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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

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meet clay, he knows how you'll die.

intro filler chapter sorry

☾ pairing: dream x reader

☾ cw: interact at your own risk; contains graphic depictions of various character death and violence, suicide, blood, gore, and other triggering material. angst, language, guns, adult content, mentions of sex, slow burn friends to lovers

☾ wc: ~4100

Clay pulled the strap of his backpack further on his shoulder as he wove through the mindless sea of college students, eyes scanning the crowd for you, his best friend and the only person he could stand at the early hour. His knuckles flashed white as he sighed, taking the blunt impact of someone walking into him. He removed one of his headphones, mumbling a quick apology and swatting off the enthusiastically apologetic sophomore girl. All he could focus on was how much she bit her lip as she stammered on about not seeing him. It wasn’t alluring to him when most girls tried to sway his affections by looking at him with a puppy dog expression; all his mind drifted to was the dead skin across the body of her lower lip.

He finally nodded and reinstated his headphone, turning on his heel and heading for the front of the building. He received a few greetings from his peers as they crossed his path, people who shared past lectures with him and who had cheated off of him during exams. He wasn’t popular by any means, but he stayed out of people’s business and didn’t express his opinions loudly, so people tended to like him. The autumn breeze picked up as he stood in the dwellings of political science majors on the front lawn, acting as if they hadn’t seen one another in years when it had been only a few days. Clay absent-mindedly looked down at his cellphone, flipping through music as he leaned against the cool brick of the hall’s facade, waiting for you to find him.

Clay’s usual brooding manner was often off-putting to outsiders, with the careless-hollow look in his eyes giving bystanders the impression that he was nothing but a machiavellian. But you always saw the brightness in him; the side that you always experienced was specifically for you, and he made sure to keep it that way. You had wedged herself into his life and he was ever grateful for the love you had given him.

Despite the understood truth between the two of you that nothing was to be left unsaid, Clay still found himself keeping one of the most important aspects of his character unknown to you. His bloodcurdling secret was his own curse, something that would only be poison for another soul to know.

“What’s up, stud?” Somehow a flush of relief rippled through Clay’s body as his eyes locked to yours, pulling him from his isolated shell. Your hair looked brighter today against the dark hoodie peeking out from beneath an all too familiar bomber jacket. The wind fluffed your locks slightly as you continued towards him.

His eyebrows perked up as if to signal he was attempting to downplay his excited demeanor. “Stud, huh?” You smirked at his response, taking one of his headphones and putting it in your own ear, her face angled up to Clay as you waited to recognize the song, swaying slightly.

He chuckled as you shrunk away from him after muttering the song’s artist disappointedly and rolling your eyes, pulling on his hoodie pocket to follow you. As chaotic as his life often felt, he could always rely on the consistency of you. You usually attached yourself to one of his backpack straps, handles, his belt loop, or ended up under his arm, wedged against his side. It had gotten to the point that he felt naked if you weren’t within arm’s length of him, which was rare for the two of you. “So, I have something for you.” He smugly looked down at you, green eyes masking a hidden sparkle as you handed him a can of root beer, making him chuckle.

“Aren’t you sweet?” He popped the tab, taking a sip as you waved at a group of girls passing the two of you before slipping your hand against the crook of his elbow where his hoodie sleeves were pushed back.

“Actually, I was hoping it could be payment for later. I need to head over to the cemetery for some rubbings. History 270 has me getting into some weird shit, huh?” He laughed again at you, offering you the drink.

“And you need wheels?” You nodded and smiled politely at him, beaming at his words. “Yeah, alright. I have to sketch something for art anyway.” He thought about the week’s assignment and then about your little project he had dealt with the prior year. You had acted like the two of you hadn’t been to the cemetery on a regular basis, but he was grateful that you wanted him to come along with you.

You quietly jumped once. “You are my hero in faded denim, Clay. You know that, right?”

The two of you parted ways to your select destinations, one of Clay’s least favorite parts of the day, which was only solidified as he sunk into his seat and attempted to look equipped for the lecture. He spotted an unfamiliar kid shaking his knee in a distant section of the classroom. In any other circumstance, he wouldn’t have thought twice, but the sie of the class had given him the pleasantries of getting his own personal curse out of the way on the first day.

He carefully watched the boy speak smugly to a few of the more athletic kids in the room. One of the athletes pointed to the general direction Clay was sitting in and they all moved towards him. He, yet again, took out his headphones, knowing full well that they would be talking to him for the rest of the class.

“Oi, Shaman,” one of the main guys greeted Clay like they always did: a strange pattern of slapping and shaking his hand. He was thankful he had gotten all of their first impressions months prior and didn’t have to worry about getting their scenarios again, but he geared up to meet the new kid.

“How are you, Punz?” Clay took a deep breath as the new kid was gestured to and brought into the light.

“This is Mark. He’s a transfer from one of the commuter campuses. Mark, this is the mastermind you pay for notes.”

Clay sarcastically smiled at Punz. “My, you flatter me more than any girl. Nice to meet you, man.” As soon as he touched Mark’s hand, Clay’s mind flashed to a dingy-looking barn out in the middle of nowhere before an older man in his mid-thirties came into view with a lever-action rifle in his hand. In another flash, Clay was in front of the man, now kneeling with the gun in his mouth, red, blurry eyes looking straight through Clay. A pang of guilt broke open in Clay’s stomach as he pushed against the handguard lever and pulled it back into place, squeezing the trigger and sending Ckay back to the class. He let out a sigh and fought to plaster one of his less absent smiles.

“Speaking of our lovely girls, Mark here has a question about her.” Clay’s head tilted towards Mark, not exactly squaring up to him, but sending him an amused look as if to warn him not to cross a line, knowing full-well this conversation would somehow involve you. “We all know that no guy would ever intrude on her without your blessing, but Mark sat near her on the bus before his first class and was thinking about asking her out.”

Clay bit back a laugh, feeling like the Vito Corleone. “Well, you know her, Punz, and you know she would be mortified if I told some guy to fuck off, so I would just ask her yourself?” Oh, how desperately Clay wanted to bash Mark for not even telling Clay himself and the fact that the boy before him was nowhere near your type, but Clay knew better than to burn bridges and he felt bad for the way Mark would meet his end.

Nobody, not even you, knew about Clay’s gift. In the going-on-five years of knowing you, he came breaths away from letting his secret slip but has always kept it hidden, hoping to bury it with him after being married to you for forty happy years.

The visions started around his fifth-grade year, beginning with vivid dreams of dying in the midst of the Civil War, feeling the warm gushing of blood leaving his system, and the stabbing pain of being shot multiple times beside a woman who oddly looked enough like you that he almost called out your name. He had lived what he presumed to be his death in the life before this one several times, each vision taking him a few clicks further.

Soon, he found himself catching glimpses of others’ deaths before they happened as soon as they touched him, but thankfully it was usually over with no time passing and he only endured the visions once for each person, fate having already sealed itself. The only person who seemed to mix him up was you.

It was love at first sight for him, but as soon as you touched his arm, bleak snapshots of a boating accident raced into his mind, only to have to re-experience the scenario a few months later with you stepping in front of a train. Even as a measly high school freshman, he promised himself that there was no way he was letting you die in the gruesome manners being predicted to you. He didn’t think changing fate was possible until he witnessed you in action. He hated seeing you so young in each of the glimpses, tearing him to shreds as he knew time and time again that there was no way he could change what was meant to be.

There were even times when he quietly promised you that he’d die by your side if he couldn’t stop it.

As his lecture let out, Clay found you tucked into a corner of the library, smiling to yourself silently as knew you had finally found what you were looking for in one of the massive books before you. There were many moments like this that Clay wished he could pause and remember for the rest of his life. He was proud that you were there for him even though you could have left instead of playing your own little game of library scavenger hunts.

Since knowing you, he had taken note of how you treated other boys, usually as first dates and never true pick-ups. You didn’t care if they called you the next day or not and he was sure you had never even been kissed before. Something about your guys’ relationship gave others the nod to leave it the fuck alone, and that your heart truly belonged to Clay; a responsibility he wished didn’t plague you with. Despite this, he couldn’t bring himself to be with you, only worried that what you had would be destroyed because he knew that as soon as he told you about his gift, you might leave.

You always brought a bag of marbles and a bouquet of flowers to the cemetery. You loved to find the tombstones that looked neglected or ones with older dates, knowing that the possibility of having family members who remembered the person was lower. The trees in the graveyard were reds and yellows with the changing season, leaves scattered over the grass, naturally piling in large masses. This was your favorite for how neglected it seemed to always be. You had a knack for making inanimate objects and lost souls feel loved; Clay often feeling like he was one of these disembodied figures.

Clay leaned his back against one of the massive trees a few paces from the tombstone you had picked, smiling as he watched you carry out her routine. He flipped to a clean page in his sketchbook as you sat cross-legged in front of the great stone resting place, pulling the long-dead flowers from the concrete gauntlet and replenishing a few flowers in their place while setting an equal number of marbles along the grass line of the stone. A daisy was tucked behind your ear as you ran her fingers against the worn chiseling of the dates, smiling slightly. He began to sketch you out. Your eyes drifted to him before the corners of your mouth curled up into a smirk and you returned to her previous position, straightening your shoulders. “Who is it?” He asked, blending a rough edge with the pads of his finger as you tilted your head at the script carvings.

“George McAfee. Born 1926. Died 1963.” The wind picked up, blowing your hair away from your face as you pulled your jacket closer around you. “What was happening in 1963?” You turned your head to him momentarily before looking back at the lucky man. “I mean besides Beatlemania and JFK’s assassination?”

Clay outstretched one of his legs, swallowing as he thought, his eyes fluttering from the page in front of him to you. “Well, Alcatraz was shut down, Studebaker stopped production, the USSR sent the first woman into space…” he trailed off, watching you as the gears began to spin in your head.

“Do you think he died in the Coliseum explosion?” You wet your lips and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Maybe he died in the USS Thresher sinking?” He was thankful that he could capture your thoughtful gaze in this picture.

“You’re smart, Dream. Have I ever told you that?” He chuckled at the sigh in your voice. He detailed the bomber jacket you were wearing---which you’d stolen from his closet god knows when---a bit as you placed a piece of paper over the engraving and rubbed a crayon against the stone, his name coming to life on the paper as you came to life on Clay’s. It didn’t matter why you two would be in the cemetery, you always had a type of bond with the dead, surprising Clay due to how bright you were and your power of holding onto so much compassion. He threw his sketchbook into his backpack and slug in over his shoulder, moving to help you up. You decided to give the rest of the flowers to George as Clay stood next to you, gazing down at his grave.

A high-pitched moan startled the two of you, snapping your heads to look over the hedges separating your section of graves and the one beside it. Clay’s eyes widened as they fell to a girl in all black with porcelain skin propped on top of one of the tombstones. You clasped your hand over his mouth pulling him onto the ground next to you as you peered through a hole in the bushes. His mind noticed your arms first. One of them was secured over his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder from beneath his arm, holding onto him as he steadied himself in the weird crouching position. “Are you enjoying this?” He jeered, looking over his shoulder slightly as he heard you snicker. The girl began to ride the stone harder.

“How many times in your life are you going to see a girl humping a gravestone? Honestly, Clay, how many?” He shook his head as you both looked at the girl, giggling to yourselves. You dug her face into his shoulder trying to stifle the next laugh trying to rip through your body as the gothic girl moaned, letting out more labored breaths. Clay’s face contorted into a twisted look of disgust as the girl tugged on her own hair. “Oh, do you think that hurts?” You took the words out of his mouth, tightening your arms around him as he shrugged.

“I doubt it’s any rockier than sex with a human.” He bit his lip, a hollow sound interrupting him quietly laughing at his own joke as you thumped him in the chest. The girl moaned louder. “Alright, she’s climaxing. I’m uncomfortable now.” Clay stood and Willow popped up next to him, lacing your fingers with his, bringing color back to his cheeks as you slipped the remaining marbles into his pocket.

“Oh, hi!” In the midst of holding hands with you again and trying to slink back to his car, he hadn’t even realized that the moaning had stopped. The girl now stood near the two of you in what seemed to be a black slip. Clay found it hard to make direct eye contact with her. “Are you guys looking for someone?”

“We were, but we couldn’t find him so-” you began, gesturing for Clay’s car and pulling him next to you.

“Well, I can help. Who are you looking for?” A thousand sarcastically vulgar comments ran through Clay’shead but his eyes flickered from her face to the tombstone she was on previously.

“Uh, my grandpa. His name was Rupert Daniels,” Clay managed to choke out. Your nails dug into his arm while your hand squeezed his. The girl looked around at the surrounding stones.

“I don’t see him right now, but I can look?” You both shook your heads quickly and muttered various responses before finally slipping away from her and getting into his car. Neither of you said anything as you pulled off the gravel driveway until crossing the railroad tracks when Clay burst out laughing.

“Do you think she even knew who it was she was gettin’ it on with or did she just pick somewhere random?” Clay laughed harder at your stunned response. “I’m serious. Clay, what the fuck. How can someone even get off in a cemetery?”

“I don’t know, man. Would you hook up with someone in a cemetery?” Clay quipped, wiggling his eyebrows at you, causing you to laugh. You dug into his console, pulling out a bag of M&Ms you had stashed in there last week, popping one in your mouth.

“Only if it was you.”

He giggled. “Excuse me, what?”

“There are just some things you do with certain people, Dream. You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered I’m the only one you would have sex with in a cemetery, or like, disgusted?” You laughed at his reaction.

Within ten minutes the sun had begun to set and Clay sang loudly with you to the song playing over the radio as Clay sped along one of the county roads near your apartment complex, not wanting the night to end. He loved these moments with you. You turned down the radio and threw your hair back into a ponytail. “So, what do you think of that new kid, Mark?” Something in Clay shifted, taking away the free feeling he had recently possessed next to you. He thought carefully.

He chewed his bottom lip. “Depends on what you think?”

“Well, he seems like a wannabe Punz. And he asked me out. Naturally, I said ‘yes’ because maybe he’s different?” Clay chuckled at your sarcasm, putting his car in park on the side of the street your flat was on and getting out with you. The radio still hummed in the air lowly. “He insisted on Friday, though.” Clay dramatically acted like you had stabbed him in the heart, even though it did hurt. Friday night was their night. It had been a running tradition for movie night every Friday since your freshman year and you had never canceled on Clay for a date. “I know, I know. But I figured that I’d tell him I had diarrhea when it hit eight o’clock and be over at your place with an extra pizza? Your roommate’s working right?” He chuckled with a nod, walking you up the first three steps to your place as you made it to the concrete landing. You turned to him. “And he said he was taking me somewhere fancy, so I’ll snag you some breadsticks.” He tilted his head at you as you winked at him.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. Wanna be Punz might be fun. Maybe I’ll call up Minx and hang out with her?” He joked. Minx was a friend of yours that hung out with the two of you sometimes. He had never really liked her, but she was friends with you and thus he was always civil.

“You’re still my number one, babe.” You pushed him slightly as you climbed a few more steps, leaning on the railing as he waved to leave. “Hey, Dream?” He turned on his heel as you forced yourself to make eye contact. He stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. “You could kiss me, you know? For science.” You smiled softly at him from where you were perched. He wet his lips as his heart hammered in his chest. He wanted to scale the steps and close the space between you, to knock you off your feet and show you just how much he was in love with you.

He hated himself. “A first kiss should have more magic in it than just for science. As a romantic, you should know first hand.” You smiled at the ground in front of you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” The two of you seemed to shake off the serious moment as you stuck your tongue out at him and slipped inside your house as both giggled.

“I love you,” he murmured as you left, punching himself in the shoulder as he got back into his car.

Clay’s heartbeat pulsed in his ears, making him truly believe he was going to pass out. He had lost his gun at least a mile back. He was running mindlessly now, not knowing how long or where he was going. He trudged through the forest, hearing dogs barking and gunshots erupting around him, the ringing in his ears building with every step he forced himself to make. He wanted to rip open the front of his jacket to release the body heat drenching his collar, but he didn’t move other than propelling his body further and further away from the soldiers. You ran beside him, holding your skirt up while your hair danced around your shoulders like a great waterfall. As soon as his body felt like it might just give out, he would look at you and somehow find more of a drive to pull forward. His breaths were brittle and hoarse as he drew in borrowed oxygen. His lungs felt shallow like they were giving out on him.

You reached back, grasping his hand and pulling him into a sharp corner, hoping to lose the group. You both had managed to weave into the forest, but the dogs were somehow still picking up on your scent. The pair of you finally came upon a clearing and kneeled down out of sight, spotting a house in the middle of a glen. Bullets were streaming through the air. The forest was catching fire and cannons were echoing through the distant air. You squeezed his hand tightly, looking at him with terror in your eyes. He had gotten the two of you into this mess, but he was glad he was beside you.

He pulled you to your feet as the pair of you sprinted for a distant house. A sharp pain stabbed into Clay’s back, making him drop to the ground. How did he not hear the gun? You dropped to your feet, your eyes welling with tears, ripping at his jacket, but he pushed you off, telling you to leave quickly. He leaned forward, eyes locking on the soldiers in gray coming towards them, reloading their rifles. He groaned, pushing himself up, but only having the same stabbing sensation two more times in his chest. He heard you scream, but he couldn’t see you.

His hands were going numb as he touched where the bullets entered, feeling the warm and sticky crimson substance seep between his fingers. The soldiers reached you before you had made it to the house, pulling you to the ground next to him. You were crying heavily as you looked at him. Everything began to run quiet as you held onto him tightly. You were saying something to him, but he couldn’t hear you. He was only aware of his jacket soaking with blood. He coughed, wanting to tell you he loved you one last time, but you were tugged away from him, pressed to one of the men in gray. He raised a hand to you as you fought against the man. And then everything went dark.

Dream Tag List: (hopefully this works)

@karlkitten @pluto-dizzz @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @ghoulandghost @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @unstableye @tinyegg @behzzyboo @twist3dtinkerbell @sparkletash @shroomieissmall @clubfairy @camerondiaz48104 @victory-is-here @rat-poisin @alm334 @acidluvs @pachowpachowbucket @bbigbbrainn @cdizzlevalntyne @idiotinnit @generallysleepdeprived @sacvf @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @essencee @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity @jenlouvre @victoria-a567 @miilliiie @bunnylotl @thegirlwhowritesawksh-t @carlyferrell @dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @nyxieahh @quivvyintheclouds @sarcasticmichelle @book-of-anarchy @millavalntyne @lightdreamy @baddiesforcorpse @sunnynapp @fantasy-innit @rat-poisin @wreny24 @deepestofwaters @exenestea @indecisivehusky @fallxnly @alm334 @skaratjung @punzcanrailme @sap-naps @denki-exe @angeltears18 @silvemistxe33 @andreamalik6 @kris-stuff @sun-fiower-seed @where-thesundoesntshine @dilfdream @esmegregory04 @itsparasocial @mlqcool @mcgoddess404 @rinatdawn @chaoscait @peppermintkisses @libbynotfound @speedrunningtherapy @lunxramour @aoonai @loraleiix @ghoulpixiie

#dream x you #dream x fem!reader #dream x y/n #dream imagine #dream x reader #mcyt au #mcyt x reader #cw gore #cw language #tw violence #tw death #tw angst #tw gore #tw suicide #tw blood

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ushittyoldman · 3 years

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sweetheart like you

request. hiii welcome! my brain is empty rn but some spike fics would be so amazing! i’ll probably be back when i have an idea but for now maybe just some first kiss with Spike and up until then they had just been flirting:)

pairing. spike x fem!reader

warning. language, mentions of s ex, & just a whole bunch of fluff

a/n. my first spike request eeeeee here u go anon! i hope u like it, it’s still taking me a while 2 pin down his characterization so i kinda just went w how i thought he’d b in a situation like this. nevertheless, i hope u like it thank u 4 this cute asf request (fun fact! spike always reminded me of bob dylan bc of his hair so this title came from a bob dylan song)

"Found him,” you mumbled discreetly into your ear piece, your sunglasses sliding slightly down your nose.

“Attagirl,” you heard Spike’s smooth drawl through the ear piece, and you attempted to conceal the slight smile that had made its way to your face.

“Careful, Spike, looks like I’m doing your job for you,” you teased, still keeping a watchful eye on the slimy suspect who happened to hold a handsome bounty on his head.

“Can’t really complain when you look so much better doing it.”

“Just fuck already so I don’t have to hear this everyday!” Faye snapped, and this time you couldn’t help the soft blush that colored your cheeks. You tightened your jacket around yourself, attempting to alleviate some of the embarrassment you felt.

“It’s not like that—”

“You know you’re always welcome to join us, Faye,” Spike retaliated, and this time you couldn’t hold back your giggle. Had you turned around, you wouldn’t have missed Spike’s smile widening upon hearing the musical sound.

“I’d rather die.” Faye deadpanned, and you had to remind yourself that you couldn’t laugh too loudly due to the delicate position you were currently in.

“One day... just one day of peace and quiet. You think that’s a lot to ask for, Ein?”

Silence followed Jet’s tired question, and you realized you’d have to once again step up and apologize on behalf of you three. You softly mumbled into the earpiece, “Sorry, Jet, remind me to buy you a new bonsai tree to make it up to you!”

You could hear the smile in his voice as he enthusiastically said your name. “Anyone ever tell you you’re an absolute sweetheart?”

“Once or twice.”

Before anyone could respond, movement from the corner of your eye caught your attention. The man you had been tailing had stood up from his seat on the couch, paying the stripper who had clung to him for the majority of the hour. You began to subtly gather your things and pay for your drink at the bar, preparing to follow him out of the club.

“He’s on the move,” you angled your head to your left, eyes searching for familiar brown eyes, “I’m gonna follow him.”

Once your eyes met Spike’s, an understanding passed between you two. He had been sitting on one of the couches towards the back of the dimly-lit room. His long legs were spread as his arm was casually draped over the top of the couch, and a cigarette loosely hung from his lips. His long hair was pulled back slightly, since it was styled to mimic the type of men who frequented the club, and you smiled at the memory of you and Faye attempting to tame his hair in the bathroom right before you three departed on the mission. Though he was attempting to pass off as a regular civilian enjoying the strip show, there was something about Spike that made him stand out from the rest of the crowd. Realizing you had probably spent an abnormal amount of time admiring him, you met his eyes again and decided to ignore the look of blatant amusement that so clearly danced within them.

You simply nodded once and you silently applauded yourself on being able to catch the subtle nod he gave you in response in the dimly-lit room. His lips quirked up slightly, and you somehow felt more reassured in your ability to pursue the criminal.

Gulping down the last of your drink just for that liquid confidence, you delicately placed the payment on the table, and adjusted your top as you followed the man out the door. As you left the strip club, you noticed the shadow of the man’s trench coat as he leisurely walked towards the darker side of the already extremely shady town. You inhaled sharply before wrapping your own coat around yourself tighter. Suddenly, the man took a sharp left turn into a narrow dark alleyway between two buildings with impossibly bright neon signs.

“He went down an alley— that’s gotta be a dead-end. It’s almost too easy!”

Spike quickly yelled out your name, an odd edge to his words. “No! We’re sticking to the plan.”

“But I can—”

“Spike’s right, it’s too risky,” Faye interrupted evenly, though her tone showcased her own concern at your irrational thinking.

Deciding to prove them wrong, you furrowed your eyebrows and tightened your grip on the concealed gun. You let out a soft exhale, your breath visible in the frosty night. You immediately turned the corner, prepared to take the man by surprise, yet you stilled in shock when you were suddenly slammed against the brick wall. You could faintly hear your sunglasses clatter on the ground. You saw stars the moment your head hit the wall, and you were almost positive you were dealing with a concussion. You internally grimaced at the earful you’d undoubtedly be receiving from Spike, Jet, and Faye.

“What do you think you’re doing, you sneaky little bitc— ooh,” he mockingly cooed, “You’re pretty.”

“Oh, for the love of—” you heard Spike groan in your earpiece, most likely realizing you deliberately disobeyed the plan.

The man’s rough hands began playing with your hair, and you tried your best not to cringe at the feeling. Briefly, you conceded that Faye and Jet may have been right when they voiced their concerns over you working alongside the bounty hunters on this mission. You were the Bebop’s resident medic, and you had an alarming lack of experience with guns and self-defense in general. The two facts paired with your intense hatred of harming people, and you were most definitely the least qualified person to be on this mission.

Momentarily, you wondered why you even pushed so hard to join your friends and leave the safety of the Bebop. You suddenly thought of Spike. Spike with his lazy smile, as he encouraged you to join them. Spike and his untamable hair as he taught you how to use a gun. Spike and his warm hands as he softly caressed your cheek the first and only time you had managed to take him down in your self-defense classes.

You groaned internally as the realization hit you harder than the concussion.

Stupid Spike.

Deciding not to succumb to death just as yet, you abruptly realized there was a technique that Spike had taught you for this very occasion. You groggily tried to remember the technique, and you urged yourself to remember quicker when the man began to trail his hands down your body. Belatedly, you realized your coat was now on the ground, drenched in the wet snow, and the unforgiving cold air was nipping at your exposed arms and legs.

“Gonna take you on a ride, girly,” he wickedly mumbled in your ear, and you tried your best not to flinch.

Through the cloudy haze of your brain, you managed to mimic Spike’s exact movements as you replayed the memory of his lean body demonstrating what to do. Lifting your knee to kick the suspect in his groin, you cringed as he let out a yell of pain. He bent over, and you took advantage of his momentary distraction by lifting yourself up and gracefully (you’d like to think) wrapping your thighs around his head, letting out a quiet grunt as you used all of your weight to flip the two of you over and onto the cold pavement. You shakily landed on your feet, but you heard a sickening crunch as the man’s face was the first to make contact with the concrete. The guilt almost bubbled to the surface, but you decided he was one of the few who deserved what he got.

You let out a quick huff as your ample chest heaved up and down with every breath. You could feel that your hair was a tousled mess, and your skirt had ridden up considerably.

“Holy shit.”

You looked up quickly and belatedly realized Spike had been standing there, casually leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. He had a small smile on his face, though there was also an uncharacteristic red tint to his angular face.

“Spike?” you breathed out. Despite his relaxed expression, you were momentarily worried that he would be annoyed with you not following the plan.

“Quite the little badass, aren’t you?” he responded, no heat and all fondness.

You took a step towards him, though you swayed slightly. You grimaced at the idea of your bare knees hitting pavement, but more so at the fact that you’d be embarrassing yourself in front of Spike. Your confusion grew when you realized that you were suddenly gently lifted in someone’s arms. Perplexed, you looked up and made eye contact with warm brown ones.

When did he catch me? you silently thought to yourself, and you figured the concussion was a lot more serious than you had previously thought.

“You with me?” Spike softly mumbled your name, and you noticed the concern clouding his eyes. You suddenly realized how close your faces were.

“Concussion,” you quickly responded and you internally slapped yourself at the stupid response, “I, uh. I have one.”

Spike’s face broke out into his typical shit-eating grin, and you felt yourself lighten at the familiar expression.

“You’re cute,” he casually spoke. Spike’s smile widened at the pretty blush that had colored your cheeks.

Just then, a particularly relentless gust of cold air blew through the ally, and you unknowingly shivered. You boldly cradled yourself further into Spike’s broad chest, and his smile dropped upon remembering your current situation.

“Faye,” he snapped into the earpiece as he angled his face slightly away from you, “thank you for taking your sweet time.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, jackass. I’m almost there.”

Your shivering worsened, as the cold air nipped at your exposed arms, legs, midriff, and cleavage. Softly shifting your body so that you were comfortably held up with his one arm, Spike quickly pulled off his jacket with his free arm, and moved you so that he could hold you with his other arm as he completely took off his jacket. You hadn’t noticed, mainly due to the softness of his almost imperceptible actions, and so you were completely surprised when you suddenly felt a warm blanket cover your entire body.

Your eyes snapped open when you realized that it smelled way too good to be a blanket. You looked down at the familiar navy blue jacket that dwarfed your entire body, and you looked up into amused brown eyes.

His yellow shirt was casually rolled up at the sleeves, and the button-up was tightly fitted across his lean yet muscular figure. His arms flexed underneath your weight, and you relished in the feeling of his warm arms caressing the bare skin of your own legs and arms as he held you bridal style in the dark alley. Your stomach erupted into butterflies as the weight and intimacy of the situation set in. You were brought out of your thoughts when you realized he had caught you subtly checking him out again.

“Stop laughing at me,” you huffed as a wayward strand of your silky hair landed on your forehead.

“Why would I be laughing at you, pretty girl?” he mumbled, a smile dancing on his lips.

His lips.

They were so close to your own, and you were once again filled with the insatiable urge to kiss him. You blinked quickly at the thought. Your concussion must have been doing a real number on you.

Your internal confliction grew stronger with each passing second. A large, large part of you wanted to close the distance between you two and finally kiss Spike, consequences be damned. But the small, louder part of you was terrified. You were terrified of rejection, of your insecurities coming to light, of being just another meaningless fling to Spike. Your thoughts grew cloudier, and you were overtaken with the sudden urge to sleep.

Your eyes grew heavy, and your head began to loll against his broad chest. Noticing this, Spike’s smile dropped once again and he began to silently curse Faye and her damned time management skills. He hurriedly mumbled your name, his distress clearly evident in his deep voice.

“C’mon now don’t go falling asleep with a concussion,” he teased, and some of his worry for you was quelled when he heard your quiet, breathy laughter in response, “Careful, doc, looks like I’m doing your job for you.”

Your smile widened upon his teasing remark, mocking your words from earlier, and you rolled your eyes in response. “Smartass.”

“Never said otherwise.”

Once again, his lips were just the right distance from your own, and you felt an instant surge of confidence. You swallowed, and squashed every single worry and fear you had, reasoning that this was Spike, your Spike, and he wouldn’t hurt you.

“There is... there is one thing you can do to help the concussion,” you shyly said, your cheeks burning brighter than the red neon sign that loomed over you two.

Spike’s eyes widened and his face turned serious and desperate as he nodded. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll do it.”

Butterflies erupted once again upon noticing how prepared he was to help you, and you smiled up in pure adoration at the tall man. Your eyes quickly darted to his lips then back up to those enchanting eyes.

“You have to come closer.”

Spike blinked once. A second time. And then he smiled softly at you. Understanding flashed in his eyes, and you swore his cheeks held the faintest of blushes. He leaned in closer.

“This close?” he knowingly teased, an encouraging lilt to his soft tone.

“Closer.”

You swore you could feel your heart in your throat as it sporadically beat faster the closer he came. His face was now right in front of yours, and you nervously swallowed. You licked your lips, and he looked down at them, mesmerized with the action.

“How’s this?” he smiled up at you, his usual playful smile on his handsome face.

“Spike,” you half moaned and half whined, frustrated with having him so close, yet not being able to finally get what you want.

His breath hitched at the sweet sound of you moaning his name, and he couldn’t help it before he leaned in slowly and met your soft lips. You closed your eyes and relished in the ecstatic feeling. The kiss itself wasn’t very long, yet everything about it was already burned into your brain. Your lips molded against his for a few more seconds before you softly pulled away and let out a dreamy sigh.

Your nerves attempted to get the better of you, yet you surprisingly felt reassured in your feelings for Spike. You silently looked up at him, but he was already looking down at you with nothing but warmth and fondness on his face. He softly reached down and tucked the wayward strand of hair behind your ear, before softly caressing your cheek. You leaned your face into his warm palm as you closed your eyes once more, and he felt his heart ache sweetly.

“You really should get concussions more often,” Spike cheekily said.

“Shut up,” you responded as you closed your eyes again to nuzzle your face into his chest. There was no heat in your response, and Spike couldn’t help but silently admire you.

He moved closer to you and gently kissed your forehead before straightening himself up. He tucked you closer into his chest and tightened his jacket around your figure.

Somehow, you weren’t as cold anymore.

“About damn time.”

Your eyes opened, and you mustered up as bright a smile as you could at your friend.

“Faye!”

An unamused expression donned Spike’s face, and he turned around to pointedly glare at Faye. “I could say the same thing to you. What, you saw a mirror on your way here?”

Faye had restrained the suspect at this point, her heeled shoes digging into his back as a way to alleviate the anger she felt at the man for what he did to you. She looked up and genuinely smiled at Spike, adjusting her coat.

“Jab all you want, Spike, but thanks to you, I won the little bet I had going on with Jet!”

Faye’s amusement grew when she saw your smile drop and Spike’s glare turn into a lofty smile almost simultaneously. You looked up at Spike, yet you flinched at the sudden movement, as the pounding in your head worsened. Concern washed over Spike, yet you shook your head in reassurance, before continuing.

“Spike— the earpiece!”

“You just had to make a move now,” Spike mockingly chided, though you knew he wasn’t as bothered as you were.

“Concussion!” you reminded him, and he cooed at the pout you gave him as his gaze softened.

You gulped before guiltily mumbling Jet’s name. “…Jet?”

“Two bonsai trees, you hear me? You owe me two bonsai trees now.”

#spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel #spike x reader #cowboy bebop #cowboy bebop fanfiction #this was so fun 2 write n i am sad its over #spike cowboy bebop

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ringmyheart · 3 years

Note

Can I request Vin Jin boyfriend headcanons and some fluff? (You don't have to force yourself)

(This and the other vin jin rq were merged!)

Honestly the way I see it, it doesn’t matter if you’re a very calm person or outgoing person. No matter what this relationship is gonna end up being considerably chaotic

He ropes you into everything he does. Doesn’t matter if u r a design student or an architecture student or if ur on the opposite side of the school from him, u r practically in his class. Dating him is like signing a contract sealing away ur own life bc he makes it a point to be ALWAYS w u

In class he doesn’t gaf if the teacher has ur seat on the other end of class, he is somehow finding a way to sit next to u against ur will or not. And when the teacher moves u two away from eachother INTENTIONALLY bc of this, he is threatening whoever happened to sit next to u to trade seats w him. He will go as far as to dress up as them to make it look like they’re them to be next to u and he’s so dramatic ab it.... being away from u felt like u were star crossed lovers whom the world was fiercely against

And if UR against this cuz ur tired of getting in trouble in class, or if you reject any of his advances, he’s gonna be really, really, really offended. He will at first sputter and be kinda shy and embarrassed about it, before he goes “fine! Have fun on your own without me, the greatest thing in your fucking life!”

He move seats back and will glare at you periodically every five minutes to pavlov dog you so that every five minutes every day, even when he’s not there, you feel the burning stare of vin jin

If you’re his s/o, he’ll buy you a matching pair of sunglasses so ur the freshest looking couple around Seoul (they’re hideous and thick but he thinks u look fly)

The glasses don’t have nearly as many layers as his does for himself so u can see, and u wonder how he managed to make them just as bulky and if he did it on purpose to sabotage u. Like “did u make my glasses purposefully ugly so no one else will want me?”

U have to dodge a punch after saying anything like that ab his fashion decisions LMAOAO

He’s rlly proud of u two matching. With the glasses and anything in general. He’ll make you wear a jacket matching his, or the same shoes and he will stop people in the hall and be like “wait. Notice anything cool ab us today?? Cooler than normal??”

And when they don’t respond he boasts “that’s right!! Me and my other half r matching. Look at us and weep, losers.” He thinks u two look so good....... if ur enthusiastic ab wearing matching things too he is elated u have to pray that tomorrow he won’t show up w another “if lost return to Vin Jin” “I’m Vin Jin” pair of jackets or anything of the like bc it happens SO OFTEN

And on the topic of sharing when it’s cold he likes to share jackets and blankets w u. Ur desks r moved by eachother by vin jin himself and u two share one blanket over u and shiver bc he just likes it, sharing w u plus he’s slightly warmer. And yes if you guys had indivizual blankets you would be warmer, but u guys have to struggle together he doesn’t care what anyone says (yes even ur protests ur sharing that one blanket wether he has to wrap it around u himself and tear up the one u brought on ur own or what”

He is so blind in love that he cannot tell when u guys suck at stuff. Like if ur in the wrong he doesnt care ur RIGHT and he’s taking that to the grave. He can belittle u and call u out but if someone else says ur in the wrong it’s on sight

Will die protecting ur name even when ur the one who was genuinely wrong

He forces u to make a beat for him to rap to. He loves rapping and wants to enjoy it w u, so ur forcefed YouTube videos of how to beatbox so u can be his bgm and eventually u probably just start to enjoy it to

And u always start a beat and he starts busting out rhymes and it’s SO BAD. It doesn’t matter if ur good at beatboxing if vin Jin is on the track w u it’s gonna sound terrible he brings the quality down immensely but u two just cannot tell

Like after a two session ur like “omg... that was so good. We should go pro?” “Fuck yea we should we’re better than those posers” “we could rlly make it in the industry fr” no u absolutely could not

During the school festival, u sang with him and it was SO bad. Half the crowd is gonna have 2 be hospitalized but u two had FUN up on the stage

Like I said, he has absolute faith in u. All u do is right. If ur driving a car for the first time, he is going to be ur little hype man doesn’t matter if u suck. U hit a curb and he went “YES babe!! Ur killing it cant wait till u hit the road bby” Ur not allowed to touch a car for the next two years now bc he kept cheering u on when u we’re doing CLEARLY wrong things

On a plane u r looking for the bathroom like pensively and u see a handle and look back and r like “is this it???” And vin jin thinking u r all righteous will go “yea babe go for it” and u open it and u depressurizate the cabin immediately

Now both on like 5 no fly lists

He loves to do things with u, like I mentioned earlier, and things he wouldn’t do alone he’ll do w u. Like drawing alone?? Boring. Drawing w Y/N??!!! Who knows what could happen..... so much fun could ensue. Maybe he will draw u cutely. Maybe he will draw u so ugly u will be forced to engage in a fight.

He likes to play just dance w u and compete for the “greats/all star!” Little titles above, and it becomes like a Friday night ritual for u two to turn just dance on and just go at it. But sometimes he’ll get too intense and suddenly he’s actually fighting for the chance to beat u. Will trip u so u lose on purpose

He makes u listen to him sing and rap to u. And u try to leave and he hugs tightly and is like LISTEN IFS FOR U, DONT BE UNGRATEFUL and now u have to listen

He makes u a mixtape of songs he made himself and they are all considerably worse than “remember the times we had”. It’s uploaded on SoundCloud and all the comments r hate and u listen to it a lot bc u know he loves u sm he made u a mixtape ya ur gonna play that but everyone else hates it w a passion

Like the comments r like:

Daniel: well.... it’s definitely a song 😅 I’m glad you love (y/n) so much!

Duke: he’s not making it out the hood 😐

Zach: never let this man in a studio AGAIN

Mary: this should’ve stayed in the CD

(Y/N): love it! 😍

Zoe: kill your producer 💀

Mira: ...

He’s overprotective too

If someone looks at u for more than a second he’ll go “what?? U think she is hot, huh? I’ll kick ur ass fucking perv.... cmon babe let’s go”

Will throw his arm around u and streer u the opposite way of any potentially good looking ppl to keep ur eyes on him

Oh Daniel is coming?? What a coincidence u and vin Jin suddenly have to turn the corner to the other way of ur classroom for some reason

Eli is near?!!! Oh no u just got milk spilt in ur eye!! Oh no now he has to wipe ur eyes and u two have to leave the cafeteria whatever will he do

It’s not that he doesn’t have faith in u, he doesn’t have faith in other men. Like he thinks they r all competition, and doesn’t doubt ur loyalty rather doubts how good he can b for u

WILL beat someone up for u. If someone smokes while ur around suddenly his fists r swinging at them cuz even if u smoke or vape urself no one else can get that stuff in ur lungs but YOU or HIM!!

If ur crossing the street and a car almost hits u, it’s the cars fault and he’s kicking the license plate and cursing it out for almost touching u “stupid fucking piece of metal”

Is the type of boyfriend to call u when he knows ur in an Uber and be like “babe u got ur gun w u right?? Oh don’t forget ur BOMB and ur MACHETE!! Yeah just left the house I killed some ppl nbd haha anyways HRU what’s ur Uber driver like” so the driver of ur car won’t even think ab kidnapping u. He has got ur back even when u do not want it

He doesn’t want u to see his eyes, so he’ll tell you to look away so he can take his glasses off and look at u in full color in all ur glory but he never tells u WHY he’s telling u to look away u think it’s a weird thing of his, or he’s insecure ab his face which is partially true but really he’s taking his glasses off and just looking at u. Adoringly.....

He hates PDA. He loves PDA. Do u see his dilemma

Like he loves PDA but doesn’t want anyone seeing him vulnerable even u.... so he’ll hold ur hand and be like “EWWW WHAT R U DOING GET YR HAND OFF MINE”

If u take the lead THATS best bc he can blame it on u and it’s ur fault he HAS to lock fingers w u cuz u did it to him first and he has an excuse to touch u and v like u started this im just sending u ur own energy back 😤

The type to be just like blind, overwhelmed in love. Always thinks ab u, always wants to be w u, worries ab u a lot and frets over u without showing it.... he hates it and loves it to death. Despises it but wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world

Eats lunch w u in the cafeteria and if u sit w someone else u r the ultimate traitor and he will trash talk u to hide his hurt to Mary the entire lunchtime. Kinda possessive.... wants u to also only think about him

WOULDNT EVER fight u for real. Play fights occur VERY often, like pillow fights, tripping ur foot when u say a joke insulting him, grabbing ur collar but he would sooner die than lay a finger on u

Verbal fights happen a lot and if he ever like LOSES it he may lash out and almost hit u and follow thru. I don’t think he’d be able to catch himself that quickly, and if he ever did he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Literally until the day dies he will take it to his grave

He may not sputter out apologieswill just look at u incredulously and then at his hands because what had he done? What did he just do? To you???????? (Y/n))))?????? His (y/n)??? Light of his life?

Will apologize probably over text or through a note or call, and if u don’t respond he is consumed by regret and tries to find u instantly like runs back to ur place

If u forgive him he feels bad still, because does he deserve it? And he might just isolate himself for a bit bc he can’t face u and if it left a scar he is dead inside. It kills him, literally

I could go on w this but I’ll probably save it for another separate pair of hcs later 😭

If u guys ever break up he will fight for u again and won’t stop till ur back together like flowers in ur locker every day, chocolate give during lunch, etc. He wont ever give up hope that he can win u over again and be w u again. He would keep trying, when he wakes up his first thought is ur name in a cold panic bc he can’t rest easy till ur his again and he will try and show off and poorly serenade u and trash his price and be corny and cheesy to get u back

Will set up a performance w the school to let him rap w a mic during lunch for u and he’s saying bars like “(read in bad rapping voice w inconsistent beat) (y/n), love of my life, uh, without you I’d die, uh. Please won’t you take me back? Yuh, without you ima have a heart attack. (Wha!). (Y/n), love of my life, yeah, without you I’m in strife, yup! Please be mine again, (babe), I can never rest till then.”

If the embarrassment doesn’t make u take him back so he’ll pls stop, and when he stands up on the lunch tables to do a little performance doesn’t do it either, then the odd sincerity of his voice and pain in his look (even tho while rapping he sticks out his lower lip in a weird pout) definitely, hopefully will

U make everything worth it !! Truly the light of his life

I hope these were what u wanted, I just had fun w them and wrote stuff that came off the top of my head when I thought of VJ!! ❤️

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babyspiderling · 4 years

Text

Under the Lights Daveed Diggs x reader

Before I even paste this into Tumblr, I want you all to know that this took me two days of constant writing, and FOUR pages on google docs. I know that the second I hit paste, it’s going to be like one page. Anyways, here’s Daveed x reader.

2010

“Hey, Y/N, I brought you muffins!” A woman with a mouth full of pins, her hair up in a messy bun, measuring tape sloppily tied around her neck, and a pincushion on her wrist, exited a space separated from the rest of the apartment by a thin curtain. Seeing her best friend and roommate enter with goodies, a bright grin fluttered onto her face. “Wanna see what I did while you were gone?” He nodded and followed her to her half of the work room. On a mannequin, a beautiful dress was fleshed out much more than it had been when Lin had left this morning. It had been nothing more than a sketch on paper for the Newsies show. As a major in history with a minor in design, Y/N was accepted by Disney to create the costumes. It didn’t hurt that The Lin Manuel Miranda of In the Heights fame was on her list of references. She had decided to start with Medda’s dress first. Medda was a personal favorite of hers and was excited to do her own spin on it. A deep purple sash had been half pinned under the bodice and sadly hung from its haphazard placement. “The sash would look better if you hadn’t distracted me with food dork.” He smiled and pressed the folded paper bag into her hand. “Alright. I’m going to finish this for Alan. It’s a miracle I have this job. I’m not screwing it up. I also meant to tell you that one of my guys are going to be here tomorrow for a measure and design session. Sweet kid. Amazing dancer.” Lin grinned teasingly as he set his laptop down on his desk. “Am I getting replaced? Is he going to be your new roommate and best friend?” Y/N stuck out her tongue at her best friend and continued her work. The sounds of humming and a machine whirring mixed in with the excited clacking of keys to make a strangely beautiful symphony.

2013

“Y/N! I need your help!” In the tiny apartment in the upper east side, an over-caffeinated Wesleyan Alumni burst through the front door, a paper bag of bagels clutched tightly. At the yells, another Alumni ran from her section of the apartment. “Lin! What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He thrusts the bag into her searching hands, and lets out another shriek. “Y/N! I’m fine! They want to put The Hamilton Mixtape through a workshop! And if we get this right, they’ll move us to a real show!” Shoving his shoulders, she muffled her screams behind pinched lips. “Lin, you can not go scaring me like that! I’m going to get gray hairs before we even get to the off Broadway! What do you need my help with?” He pulled her onto the ratty couch they had in the little space. “I need a costumer. You’re the best in the business. Not to mention I’ll be with you all the time, so there’s no chance of miscommunications!” Standing from her forced seat, she cradled Lin’s head in her hands. She saw the excitement glimmer in his eyes and softened. “Lin, of course I’ll help you, I am a history major after all. Who else could make it historically accurate while still being functional? Thank you for even considering me, and for the bagels.” She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head. Giving a crooked smile, she pointed a finger in his face. “If you ever scare me like that, I swear I will never cook or bake for you again.” He smiled sheepishly and shrugged in apology. “Sorry, but hey, you’re my costumer now!” She smiled and bumped her hip with his. She dug through her pads of paper and snatched her laptop off the charger. “Alright. Give me your tracks and I’ll get started.”

July 27th, 2013

“Alright, I’m here. Sorry I’m late, I got halfway down the block before I figured out I left my notes on the desk. Who do we have here?” Three men held my attention, understandable since they were the main cast. I recognized Brian D’arcy James from other productions, there was another man with big hair and bright eyes, and finally my eyes fell on Christopher. I smiled at him and gave him a quick hug. “Oh my God! What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in so long! How’ve you been.” He chuckled and pulled me in again. “I’m good. I was missing our Vanessa for a while, but you’re working with us now so I won’t have to miss you anymore! Lin told me about the project and I couldn’t turn it down.” He turned me to the stranger at the clearing of a throat. “Oh, this is Daveed. He’s playing Thomas Jefferson and Lafayette. He raps.” I looked at him up and down, remembering the songs Lin had written for him. I cocked my head, and he looked at me with nervous eyes. “This will work. This is going to work great actually.” I saw his shoulders relax and sag with relief as I walked back to the table set up for the behind the scenes people. I gripped my pen in my hand, ready to jot down every little thought that passed through my mind for the time of the workshop.

After hours and hours of rehearsals and run throughs, I’d filled up a notebook and a half for costumes for the characters. This time around Lin wanted his cast flexible. Those whose characters were not in the second act were recast as another role, so I had to figure out how to do quick changes not only for the nine main cast members, but for the entire ensemble. As Lin and I packed up our things to head home, the man with the beautiful eyes stopped me. “Hey, Vanessa, right?” I heard Lin and Christopher snicker somewhere behind me and I shot them a look. “Actually, it’s Y/N.” His eyes widened in embarrassment and his hand lifted to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry, I just thought it was Vanessa since that’s what Christopher called you.” I shook my head and smiled. “Oh, no. That’s just a little joke between us. I was the demo Vanessa when Lin was trying to sell In the Heights. I’m the reason why Vanessa never speaks Spanish. I took French all through high school and college.” He nodded and rocked back and forth on his heels. “I’ve got some questions about costumes and everything you do. Could I have your number to keep in contact?” I nodded and pulled out my phone, switching it with his and I plugged in my contact information. “Alright. I’m headed home, but I’ll make a schedule for measuring and design sessions. I’ll see you tomorrow?” He nodded enthusiastically, making his hair bob with his movements. I waved goodnight and followed Lin out of the building.

“So, Daveed.” I looked up from my buzzing phone to Lin out of the corner of my eye, giving him an eyebrow. “What about Daveed?” He shrugged and wore a small smile. “You texting him?” I put my phone down to look at him headlong. “And if I am?” Once again he shrugged and got up to grab a snack. “Nothing, just remember your worth.” I shake my head good naturally. “Alright Dad. Now, I’ve got to sketch out what my brain was screaming during the workshop. And how to create every outfit as a quick change. Thanks loser.”

July 15th, 2015

“Alright everyone! We’ve practiced these changes for weeks! Remember your number, remember your cue. You all have been a wonder to work with and to create for. I love you all and break a leg!” Everyone is dressed in white for the opening number, and I am proud of my work. “Oh, and Daveed;” Daveed looks up at me, a strange look in his eyes. “Yes, Y/N?” I looked him in the eyes, stoic and serious. “If you rip your pants during Guns and Ships again, you will repay me by organizing the scrap bin.” He swallowed visibly and nodded his head. I smiled once again and put my hand out for a group theatre circle. “Break a leg!” Everyone scurried to their cue spot in their costumes and Lin hugged me from behind. “Thank you for doing this for me. I never would be able to have costumes this good if it weren’t for you.” I turned in his arms and smiled. “I’m glad I did too Lin. Now go, they’re calling your name.” I listened from my side of the stage, getting everything in order for the main cast. I pulled Daveeds coat off quickly and held out his blue one for him to slide on. “Hey, Y/N, maybe after the show we can-“ “Diggs! Get to your cue!” I smiled and nudged him. “Go. Talk to me after the show.” He gave a quick kiss to my cheek and went to do his thing on stage. As I pinned the rose to Renée’s dress, her sweet voice teased at me. “You do know that he loves you too, right?” I know what she’s talking about, but I pretend to play dumb. “Who loves me? Nevermind, neither of us have the time for this. Go kick ass out there.” She scrunched her eyebrows at me and pointed her finger to say “This isn’t over.”

The first act went by in a flash, costume changes and character changes took up all of my time. After I had hung up every dress, every coat, every pair of trousers and corset, Daveed had changed and packed up all of his things. I had just finished mending the lace cuff on his magenta sleeve when he had walked in. He wore a sleeveless Oakland jersey with a matching hat pressed onto his freed hair. “Oh! Daveed! Perfect timing! I was just finishing up here. What was it that you were wanting to tell me?” At my question, it was like a switch had been flipped in him. He went from the cool and collected suave man who the fans fantasized over to a shy and awkward man who had run out of words. Self-doubt and insecurity filled my inner dialogue as I watched him shut down and clam up. I was filled with the fear and anxiety that he had come to ask me to stop staring, to stop caring. I let the silence carry on for a while longer until Anthony called for us to leave. “I, I should probably go, then. You were amazing tonight, not a single trip or stutter. I am so proud of you.” I swallowed down the tears making their way up my throat and gave him a watery smile. I grabbed my bag, and started to make a hurried exit until my wrist was caught by a large and calloused hand. “Wait, no. Y/N, I wanted to know if you wanted to grab something to eat, go do something when we don’t have a show. You know, like maybe a date? Unless you don’t want to, then it’ll just be us as friends. I’d actually really appreciate it if you just forgot this whole ordeal and-” I smiled and blushed at his sweet ramblings. I stepped up onto my workbench and gripped his face in my hands. Taking a deep breath I leaned in and connected our lips, praying to every spiritual being in the heavens that they would allow him to kiss me back. I guess praying did me good because after getting over the shock of being interrupted, he kissed me back with the same fervour. Once more, we are called to leave the theater and we break apart, panting lightly with swollen lips and pink cheeks. He helped me down from my step and I lifted myself onto my toes to give a peck to his cheek. “Alright big guy, let’s go home. Lin’s either knowing of what we were doing, or he’s pacing in our living room, police on speed dial. And I would love to go on a date with you.”

#daveed diggs #daveed x reader #daveed diggs x reader #hamilton #hamilton x reader #lin manuel x reader #lin manuel miranda #lin manuel miranda x reader #hamilcast #hamilcast x reader #theatre #theatre x reader

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aaarianna-actuallywrites · 4 years

Text

Mistletoe Confessions

I wrote this for the Edens Zero Secret Santa Exchange on Discord. Here’s some EZ Crew Christmas Shenanigans!

“I know! We can do Secret Santa!” Rebecca suggested. “It’ll be fun!”

“Woahhh,” Shiki muttered, eyes growing wide. “Rebecca, what’s a Secret Santa?”

She gasped dramatically. Weisz rolled his eyes at her antics.

Shiki, Rebecca, Homura, Pino, and Happy were sitting on the couch in Edens Zero’s game room, with Weisz leaning against the arm, debating what to do for the upcoming holiday.

“I am also curious, but I won’t say that out loud.”

“Secret Santa is where everyone picks one person and gets that person a gift.”

“Ooh, I pick Rebecca!” Shiki shouted with his trademark enthusiasm.

“It’s supposed to be secret, idiot,” Weisz said. “And why do you not know, Homura?”

“We did not celebrate this ‘Christmas’ on Odeo.”

“So each person gets one gift?” Pino asked, her antennae wiggling in budding excitement.

“Yeah. Instead of everyone getting a bunch of presents, we each get one present that’s more personal,” Happy explained.

“How exciting!”

“Sounds like a shitty deal if you ask me.”

“Oh come on, Weisz, don’t be such a Grinch,” Rebecca teased.

“I am not a Grinch.”

“You’re totally a Grinch,” Shiki said.

“You don’t even know what that is!”

“It is decided,” Homura said, nodding solemnly. “Weisz is a Grinch.”

“Neither do you! Ugh, you guys suck.”

“What is a Grinch?”

‘Of course only Pino would have the decency to ask first,’ Weisz thought.

“A Grinch is a grump with a shriveled up heart who hates Christmas, gift giving, and cheer,” Rebecca explained, almost like she was giving a lecture to a group of kindergartners.

“Hm,” Pino said as she processed the new information. “The definition does seem to fit Mr. Weisz rather well.”

“What are we shitting on Weisz for this time?” Ivry asked as she, Hermit, and Witch entered into the madness.

“Weisz is being a total Grinch about doing Secret Santa,” Rebecca said.

“Oh, yeah, makes sense.”

“Why is everyone ganging up on me?” Weisz grumbled.

“Oh, are we celebrating Christmas, Lord Shiki?”

“Yeah! Rebecca just told me about it. It sounds like fun! She also told me about Santa and his spaceship that can travel across the entire cosmos in a day!”

“Santa’s not even-”

Before Weisz could finish his sentence, he was staring down the barrel of Rebecca’s spare pistol.

“Don’t even think of spoiling this for Shiki and Pino,” she threatened quietly.

Weisz held up his hands in surrender. Rebecca slowly lowered her gun, eyes narrowed in a threatening glare.

“If it is secret, then how are the recipients chosen?” Homura asked.

“Everyone writes their name on a piece of paper, and then we each take turns picking one out of a hat,” Hermit said, not looking up from her handheld game. “And then you keep who you’re buying a present for a secret until you give them their gift.”

Homura put her hand over her mouth at Hermit’s pointed comment, but said nothing.

“Couldn’t you just write a program or something that pairs us up randomly?” Weisz asked.

“I could, very easily. But I won’t.”

“Why not?” He was nearly whining.

“I’m keeping in the spirit of Christmas. Also, to piss you off, specifically.”

“Why does everyone want to bother me today?” Weisz grumbled under his breath.

“Cause you’re an easy target as long as you keep bitchin’,” Ivry said, punctuated by flicking Weisz’s ear as she strode past.

“Why do you not like Christmas, Mr. Weisz?” Pino asked.

Weisz shrugged. “It’s not like I hate Christmas, I just don’t care one way or the other about it. And it never made sense to me why so many people act like it’s such a big deal. It’s just another day.”

“It’s a holiday. That’s like saying your birthday is just another day!” Rebecca said.

“It is.”

Rebecca gasped again.

“Can you stop being so dramatic?”

“I have paper and pencils for everyone,” Witch called as she walked back into the game room.

Weisz blinked, not having realized that Witch left the room to begin with, but still taking the paper and pencil when she handed it to him.

The room fell mostly silent, with only the scratching of pencil on paper as everyone scribbled their names down.

“What about the hat?” Shiki asked.

Ivry snatched the sorceress hat off of Witch’s head and handed it to him, putting her slip of paper in. “Here ya go, Shiki. There’s your hat.”

“Awesome!” he said as he enthusiastically shoved his own paper in it.

The hat was passed around the room and everyone put their names in, though Weisz did it with extreme reluctance.

“Alright! I wanna pick first!”

Shiki nearly punched the hat out of his own grip with his zealousness as he reached in to pick his Secret Santa recipient.

“Remember, you’re not supposed to say who you got. It’s supposed to be a surprise to the person you’re giving the gift to,” Rebecca said.

Shiki handed the hat off to her as he read the name on the paper he picked. To Weisz’s surprise, he managed to keep quiet about who he drew.

As the hat made its way around the room, Weisz vaguely wondered who he’d get.

‘If I had to choose, I guess it wouldn’t be too hard to get a gift for Shiki. That idiot would be excited by actual coal,’ he thought, chuckling quietly to himself.

When the hat finally made it to him, there was only one piece of paper left inside.

Homura Kougetsu

‘Damn.’

He left the game room, wondering what in the cosmos Homura would want for Christmas.

‘Even if I asked, she probably wouldn’t know herself, since she’s never celebrated Christmas before.’

He groaned, dreading the task ahead.

~~~~~~~~

“Okay, we’re off! We’ll be back soon!” Rebecca called out to Witch as everyone piled into the Aqua Wing to venture down to Blue Garden to shop for their gifts.

“I apologize for not being able to go with you. Unfortunately, as you know, I cannot leave the ship.”

“Don’t worry, Miss Witch!” Pino said. “Miss Rebecca and I will help you get your present!”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. We’ll be in constant contact, it’ll be just like you’re there with us.”

Witch smiled, but Weisz could see that she was a little disappointed.

“In the meantime, I will plan out the decorations.”

Weisz put his new earbuds in to shut out his crewmates’ yammering. He’d taken to listening to music a bit more recently, even if the only songs he listened to were considered “old” by everyone else’s standards.

Though he’d never admit it, sometimes he did miss Norma. Even if it was only a longing for the simplicity of his time compared to the future he hadn’t quite gotten the hang of yet.

‘I still have no idea what Homura could possibly want as a present. I can’t remember her ever wanting anything since I met her, except..’

Weisz cracked his neck, shaking away the thought. ‘That’s not gonna help.’

~~~~~~~~

As soon as Rebecca led them to what had to be the biggest outdoor mall Weisz had ever seen in his life, everyone ran in different directions. Or in Shiki’s case, floated.

Weisz walked slowly, looking at all the shops around him. This part of the mall was mostly clothing stores, which would be useless, as he could make any kind of clothes he wanted in the Dress Factory on the ship.

One shop in particular caught his eye, however.

‘Heh. Christmas-themed lingerie? That’s worth buying.’

He was halfway across the court when he remembered that they’d be giving their presents in front of everyone else. And that Homura probably wasn’t one for lingerie in the first place.

‘I might be shameless, but even I’m not that shameless.’

He grumbled, but kept walking.

He passed by clothing stores, jewelry stores, and sports stores, all of which he doubted would carry anything that Homura could be remotely interested in owning. With each store he passed, his annoyance grew.

’What kind of gift do you give a swordswoman who says everything, but doesn’t seem to want anything material?’

His friends had long since ditched him, but even if he asked everyone on their crew, he doubted any of them could come up with a concrete answer as to what Homura would actually like. Though she said everything that came to her mind, she’d somehow never mentioned her interests, besides…

As Weisz rounded the corner, he finally saw a shop that he could work with.

‘What do you get a swordswoman? A decorative blade,’ he thought. ‘Even though her Ether Gear means she’s literally never without one, and I doubt she’d have a use for a blade that’s not meant to be, well, used, it’s as good a place as any to start.’

A bell rang as he walked into the shop, and almost immediately after stepping through the doorway, the noise from outside seemed impossibly distant. Weisz’s ears started to ring faintly in the sudden silence, one that even the dust seemed afraid to break.

The broad-shouldered clerk at the counter looked up, but didn’t say anything as Weisz began to wander around the shop. The sheer number of pointy-death-sticks hanging on the walls made him a little uneasy.

Guns have a safety function, after all, and knives and swords do not.

‘Zweihänder, Broadsword, Rapier, Dao, Katana, how many fucking ways can you make steel sharp enough to kill someone?’ he thought.

The man at the counter seemed to be the only employee in the shop, and he watched as Weisz navigated all the complicated classifications that he never even knew existed.

‘Well, a big sword is out of the question,’ he thought. ‘I don’t know if I can even lift it, let alone…’

He blanched as he noticed the price on a nearby Claymore.

‘..Afford it. A smaller knife will be fine. I think.’

The employee never spoke, but Weisz could feel his stare as he moved through the shop.

‘I know I’m a thief, but he can’t possibly know that, and I sure as hell can’t steal anything from here if I can’t even carry it.’

The silence was nearly unbearable, and as he came around to the back of the shop, Weisz was seriously tempted to just leave and get a generic Christmas gift that no one could dislike.

‘It’s not like someone who’s never celebrated Christmas before would know the difference, right?’

He shook his head. Homura couldn’t lie, and he- and everyone else- was sure to hear how much or how little she liked his gift. And he refused to be the only one unsuccessful in their Secret Santa charades.

Out of the corner of his eye, he just barely caught part of the description of a small dagger.

Valkyrie.

He nearly gave himself whiplash with his double-take.

Valkyrie Wingblade Dagger.

Even Weisz could admit that it was a beautiful work of art. The blade itself was somewhere around six to eight inches and two-pronged, but that wasn’t the most impressive thing about it.

Spreading out from the handle was a set of wings. Each individual feather had been meticulously crafted, and the wings formed a hand-guard of sorts. The handle itself was simple, yet elegant, and there were two little things jutting out from the bottom of it.

‘Maybe that’s for hanging it?’

“Find something that interests you?”

Weisz jumped as the employee’s deep voice boomed in the silent shop. He could hear his accelerated heartbeat in his ears.

“Uh.. yeah, maybe.”

“The Valkyrie dagger, huh? It’s a fine choice. Who’s it for?”

“A friend. She.. likes swords, and her teacher’s name was Valkyrie.”

“...Interestin’. I heard stories about some warrior single-handedly changing the tide of the war on Odeo about ten years ago now. Some of ‘em put ‘er name as ‘Valkyrie,’ but I thought that was just hearsay. It is an ancient name, after all. Didn’t think anyone besides historians and sword experts knew about it.. Wonder if it’s the same person.”

Weisz blinked at the history lesson. “Valkyrie Yuna. That’s her name. And she’s definitely the same person as my friend’s teacher.”

“Yer friend must be one hell of a fighter, then.”

“Yeah..”

“You gonna get that one, or keep lookin’?”

Weisz glanced down at the dagger’s price tag, and breathed a quiet sigh of relief to find that it was reasonable.

“Sure, I’ll get this one.”

The clerk reached into the display case to grab it. “If you want, you can get it engraved. It’ll cost a little extra, and take a bit of time, but it’s a common option this time of year.”

“How much more?” Weisz asked hesitantly. “And how long will it take?”

~~~~~~~~

Edens Kitchen looked nearly unrecognizable. Witch had gone far beyond what Weisz had expected in turning it into a winter wonderland; Color-changing lights and garland criss-crossed the room, and fake snowflakes that he suspected Witch had cut out herself all hung from the ceiling. Christmas tree and gingerbread man cutouts decorated the bottom two feet of the walls, red and green ribbons were wrapped artfully around each of the tables and chairs, and fake snow covered the floor. There was even a real Christmas tree in the corner that was so picturesque, he vaguely wondered what movie it was stolen from.

Not to mention the mistletoe that was hanging in just about every doorway in and around the kitchen, which he took careful measures to avoid meeting anyone under.

Pino had frozen in excitement for a solid twenty seconds when she saw the decorations, to the point that Weisz was nearly concerned Hermit would have to reboot her. Shiki was equally excited, temporarily losing control over his Ether Gear in the process. Witch and Rebecca had to weigh him down so he wouldn’t ruin the decorations on the ceiling.

Weisz was impressed. Witch’s decorations almost put him in a festive mood, which was more than he could say for any other Christmas celebration he’d been to in his life. Even the food was festive, with holiday staples like mashed potatoes, turkey, and stuffing all decked out in red and green embellishments wherever possible. Even the eggnog and hot chocolate had red and green shavings in them, which Witch had assured all of them were just pieces of chocolate and sprinkles.

What she missed in Secret Santa shopping, she more than made up for with the decor.

“It’s beautiful, Miss Witch!” Pino’s antennae were nearly invisible with how fast they were wagging.

“Yeah, you really went all out! It looks amazing!” Rebecca said, trying to pull Shiki away from getting tangled in the lights.

“I must agree,” Homura said from behind her hand. “I feel as if I am in that Christmas-themed village from that movie Rebecca spoke of.”

“Thank you. I wanted to make our first Christmas together truly special,” Witch said, blushing. She’d replaced her sorceress hat with a Santa one, and her staff with a giant candy cane. “I even made everyone a Santa hat to really get in the spirit!”

“Everyone meaning everyone,” Ivry said, with a pointed look at Weisz. “And you gotta wear it. Ship rules.”

Weisz grumbled, but Witch looked so happy with herself and her efforts that he didn’t want to ruin it.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll wear the damn hat.”

‘I guess it won’t kill me, it’ll just do significant psychological damage.’

After an hour of partying, eating, drinking eggnog, and watching Pino try to meet everyone, including him, under the mistletoe- which he reluctantly agreed to, letting her give him a cold kiss on the cheek, both because he feared he might be staring down Rebecca’s pistol again if he didn’t, and she was just too adorable for words while asking(though he’d never admit it)- it was time for Secret Santa.

“It’s time for presents!” Rebecca sang.

Everyone scrambled to the pile of presents under the tree, rushing to give theirs first.

“Here,” a dry voice spoke beside him.

He turned to find Hermit presenting him with a small box.

“Thanks,” he said, opening it slowly. He wouldn’t put it past the little troll of a Shining Star to give him a gag gift that would blow up in his face.

He was pleasantly surprised to find a real present in the box, but also a bit confused by it. “Is this just the Arsenal Suit?”

“More specifically, Arsenal Suit Mark One-Point-Five. I spent two days slaving over the formulas to make it more cost effective. Plus a couple of other special features. We can test it out tomorrow.”

He nodded. “Thanks, Hermit.”

“Of course,” she said coolly.

As he looked around, he saw Pino giving Witch a box that was bigger than the little bot was- or, more accurately, Pino was sitting on top of the box, and Rebecca was handing it over- Ivry standing behind them, a gift he assumed was for Rebecca in hand, and Shiki giving Happy a candy cane colored bag.

He found Homura standing in the doorway under the mistletoe. As Weisz walked over, he made sure not to step under it.

“Here,” he said, suddenly embarrassed as he handed the long box over to her.

“Thank you, Weisz.”

As she moved to open it, Weisz was struck with sudden anxiety.

‘If she doesn’t like it, no one will let me live it down for who knows how long,’ he thought. ‘And I actually tried with this. She has to like it.’

He briefly wondered why he was so concerned about her reaction now, when he hadn’t been before.

‘Is it really only because this is the first time I’m giving a gift to someone who’s opinion really matters to me? Or is it because this is the first swordmaster I’ve tried to give a gift to?’

She stared into the box silently. And somehow, her silence was worse than her outright saying that it was horrible. He’d never seen Homura speechless before.

Slowly, she reached in and pulled out the blade, examining it carefully.

“Valkyrie wings…” she said quietly.

“Yeah,” he said, unsure of what else he could say.

He watched as her eyes roamed over the dagger, taking in every detail. Her eyes widened when she noticed the engraving.

“So, what did you want the engraving to say?” the clerk asked.

“Valkyrie Homura.”

Finally, Homura looked up at him, her mouth slightly open and eyes widened a bit in shock. Then, she pressed her lips together as tears welled up in her eyes.

‘Son of a-’

“Thank you.” She interrupted his train of thought, a smile spreading across her face.

“Y- you like it?”

She nodded. “Yes.” She took a deep breath. “Immensely so.”

Putting the dagger back in the box and closing it, she looked back up at him and smiled again. A genuine smile, one that Weisz had never seen on her face before.

‘She looks really pretty smiling like that.’

His shoulders scrunched up in embarrassment as he realized what he was thinking, and he looked away in an attempt to hide the blush he was sure was spreading across his face, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Good.” He cleared his throat. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I would not have expected something so thoughtful from you,” she said, immediately covering her mouth as she realized what she said. “Oh, I hadn’t meant to say that aloud. My apologies.”

“No, I’m with you on this one. I wasn’t expecting it, either.”

She giggled behind her hand.

“So, why are you standing over here?”

“I was hoping to meet Shiki under the mistletoe.”

“I- a- .. oh. Really?” he asked, ten kinds of confused all at once.

“Yes, I was hoping to challenge him to a duel.”

“A- uh, what?”

“Ivry explained mistletoe to me. If two are caught under it, they must duel. She called it ‘mistlefoe.’ She said it was a time-honored tradition.”

Weisz burst out laughing so hard that he had to lean against the doorway so he didn’t fall over completely.

“What is so funny?” she asked, her hand coming back up to cover her mouth again, this time out of embarrassment.

“That’s not what mistletoe is for,” he said after he managed to calm down enough to be understood.

“Then what is it for?”

Now completely calm, he stood up straight. “The point of mistletoe is that you’re supposed to kiss whoever you meet under it.”

They both froze as they realized that Weisz had stepped underneath said mistletoe without realizing it. Matching blushes sprung up on their faces as they struggled to speak.

“W-well, I suppose I would not mind it so much,” Homura said, slapping both hands over her mouth with a high-pitched squeak.

His shoulders scrunched up even further at her confession.

“Y-... you wouldn’t?”

“I-... I, umm..” her voice was almost a full octave higher than normal. “Sister Ivry!”

“Oh, shit,” the wicked nun cackled, hiding behind Witch as Homura stormed over to her.

Weisz stayed frozen, staring at the now empty space in front of him, his heart racing.

~~~~~~~~

A few hours later, everyone was passed out in the game room. Rebecca demanded they have a “Christmas Movie Marathon” after their Secret Santa shenanigans, and of course Shiki agreed.

Now, both of them were asleep on top of each other, drunk off their asses from Ivry’s spiked eggnog. The nun in question was also drunk, sprawled out on the floor.

‘I didn’t know Ivry could get drunk, seeing as she drinks all the time. And she’s an android.’

Hermit was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch, with Pino and Happy curled up in her lap, all of them asleep.

‘Apparently, androids sleep, too.’

Weisz shook his head, stretching his neck out and looking at the other side of the couch where Homura had been sitting. She left an hour ago, citing wanting to go to bed as the reason, but she left with both hands forcefully covering her mouth, and he had a sinking feeling it was because of him.

When they came in for the movie marathon, they sat on opposite sides of the couch and didn’t look at each other the entire time. Their earlier conversation crept, unbidden, into his mind again.

‘I wouldn’t mind kissing Homura, either, I guess. She’s beautiful, strong, kind-’

He considered it nothing short of a Christmas miracle that his stomach growled at that moment, interrupting his train of thought.

On his walk to the kitchen, he tried overthinking about what to eat, so as to keep thoughts of Homura and kissing out of his mind. It was easier to just brush off that conversation as the holiday spirit affecting her in an odd way than to think about wanting to kiss her and the ramifications of doing so.

‘For one, she can’t keep a secret to save her life, so everyone else would know within twenty-four hours,’ he thought. ‘She’s probably never even- Why am I still thinking about this?!’

He almost forgot about the decoration explosion in the kitchen. Walking into it was a decent enough distraction as he forced himself to change the subject in his mind.

The leftover food from their party hadn’t been put away yet; The bowl of mashed potatoes was nearly empty, both of the pies and the cheesecake were completely gone- most likely courtesy of Rebecca’s bottomless pit of a stomach- and the turkey was split down the middle almost perfectly, with one half picked at and the other untouched.

Weisz tore off a small piece of turkey and tossed it into his mouth. None of the party food really interested him, so he pulled up the holographic menu to skim through. But it didn’t do as much as he’d hoped in terms of distracting him. After five minutes of mindless scrolling where his mind wasn’t really on the food, he gave up and ordered a glass of water.

‘Do I really want to kiss Homura, or did that damn Santa hat do more damage than I thought it would?’

The kitchen slid his glass of water over to him, and he sipped on it slowly.

‘Is this what it’s like to doubt yourself? Have I really never doubted myself in my entire life? I probably should’ve.’

“Wow, I’m a selfish prick,” he muttered.

No longer hungry, he finished off his water, deciding to just go to bed.

‘Hopefully I’ll wake up and be able to convince myself that all of the “Kissing Homura” business was just a dream.’

As the kitchen door slid open, he ran into someone coming in. That someone being Homura.

‘Either the universe hates me, or it just likes laughing at me.’

“Weisz,” she said quietly.

“Homura,” he said, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I was just going to get some water.”

He nodded, unsure of what else to do.

They stared at each other for a few moments until Homura nodded and moved to walk past him. He was content to just let her pass him by- at least, he thought he was. But somehow, his mind and his arm weren’t on the same page, because he found himself reaching out to stop her walking away.

“Hey.”

She turned to face him, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Yes?”

‘Fuck it.’

“Did… did you mean it? What you said earlier?” he forced out.

“A-about.. kissing?” her voice was unnaturally high again.

He sighed heavily, suddenly very aware of his racing heartbeat. “Y- yeah.”

“I… yes,” she whispered, her cheeks a fiery red.

His shoulders scrunched up far enough that he felt like a turtle trying to retreat into its shell. His pulse pounded in his ears, and suddenly it seemed as though his entire torso was burning in embarrassment.

Of course it was only then that both of them looked up and noticed that they were right back where they were before: under the mistletoe.

Homura took a deep breath, straightening up. Her confident posture only lasted a couple of seconds before she spoke. “What about you?”

His eyes widened in shock. “Do I… wanna kiss you?”

She nodded, refusing to look at him.

“I, um… Well… You’re not drunk, are you?”

“W- what?” she asked, shocked. “No. In truth, I do not like alcohol. Not its taste, nor its effects.”

“...Okay.”

“Why?”

“It’s a weird day,” he said, shaking his head.

“Are you?”

“Stone cold sober,” he said. ‘Though this conversation is making me feel like I’m drunk,’ he thought. ‘Either that, or I’m in a fever dream.’

Homura paused, eyes darting back and forth. “You never answered my question.”

Weisz breathed in, then out slowly. “... Yeah,” he said, surprising both of them with his answer. “Yeah, I- I.. want to kiss you.”

Both of them were silent for a moment, uncertain of what to do.

“I have… never actually kissed anyone before. Is it like a battle?”

The noise he made was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle. “No, it’s not that complicated. It’s pretty easy, actually. Haven’t you ever seen a movie or read a book with a kiss in it?”

“Well, yes, but how can I know how much of that is fiction, and how much is accurate to reality?”

Weisz tilted his head to the side. “Fair point. But it’s basically the same, for the most part. It’s, well.. I mean, it’s just something you learn by doing.”

“Then let me learn. Or teach me, rather.”

“O-okay.” For the first time ever, Weisz hesitated to kiss her. Not even his first kiss was this drawn out.

He rolled his shoulders, projecting a calm he didn’t feel, and brought his hand up to her cheek. Without giving himself time to overthink, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

The first couple of seconds were awkward. Homura stood still, not quite grasping how to respond. But she proved herself a quick learner when she started kissing back.

Weisz brought his other hand to her waist, pulling her closer. Homura covered his hand on her cheek with her own, resting the other on his arm.

He ended their kiss sooner than he would have liked, but he didn’t want to overstep with a too-intense one. Resting his forehead on hers, Weisz still kept close to her lips, torn between wanting another kiss and wondering if Homura did.

At this distance, it was hard to not look at each other, but they both tried.

“That… was nice.”

He nodded slightly. “Mhm.”

“Weisz,” she whispered, finally looking him in the eyes.

“Yeah?”

She gulped. “...Teach me again?”

The corner of his lips turned up in a small smile. “Okay,” he said, leaning in again.

“Wait.”

He stopped. “Hm?”

Homura moved the hand that was resting on his arm to instead lay on his cheek. Then, she leaned forward and reconnected their lips.

Weisz’s hand on her waist slid around to the small of her back, pulling her even closer than before. His hand resting on her cheek slid down to join the other. He allowed himself to kiss her a little harder, nearly losing himself in the moment.

When they pulled apart again, they were breathless.

“Well… You’re definitely a fast learner,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Thank you, I pride myself on it.”

Weisz chuckled, which set Homura off giggling before taking a step back. Neither of them took their hands off the other.

“Thank you… for teaching me.. about mistletoe. It was…-”

“Yeah, it was good for me, too.”

Homura nodded, a small smile growing on her face. She looked away from him.

“Well, it has certainly been… an interesting first Christmas,” she said, stepping away slowly. “Goodnight, Weisz.”

“Night.”

She turned her head away, hiding her smile as she walked past him.

Weisz touched his lips lightly. “Yeah,” he said to himself. “Maybe Christmas isn’t so bad.”

#Edens Zero #Edens Zero Fanfic #Weiszmura #EZ Secret Santa #Mistletoe Confessions

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astxlphe-fics · 4 years

Text

Atsukyou Week Day 1 // Roleswap AU

@atsukyouweek

There is a boy with a bomb on the train, and if Kyouka can save him, then maybe she can save herself too.

(Platonic atsukyou)

Word Count : 4 296

Content warning: Graphic Depiction of Violence

Basically the train scene with Kyouka and Atsushi swapped. It was pretty fun to write uh.

“Thank you for your help, Kyouka-chan,” Yosano says as they carry the groceries on the train platform.

Kyouka doesn’t say anything, glancing up and nodding quietly, but Yosano doesn’t seem to mind.

“I’ll hide some of the sweets for you, so Ranpo won’t snatch them away,” Yosano continues with a quick wink. They walk onto the train and take their seats.

She eyes the man from earlier, who is carefully avoiding their gazes. When he bothered Kyouka about bumping into him, Yosano sent him groveling at her feet and he ran with his tail between his legs.

In Kyouka’s opinion, considering Yosano’s anger, he was lucky to have kept it, the tail.

“...Thank you,” she says quietly. “About earlier.”

“Don’t worry about such trivial things.” She waves her hand dismissively. “So, I heard you knew Dazai before you joined us?”

“Not really.” She thinks back about Dazai, whom she dragged out of the river just a few days ago. “I’d heard about him.”

She knew him only by reputation — Dazai Osamu, Port Mafia executive turned traitor, the one the boss still refuses to replace.

There isn’t much talk of him, unless you managed to pull Akutagawa or Chuuya into a rant, and what information she gathered during her past six months as a Port Mafia assassin was enough for her to recognize him as soon as he told his name.

He looked at her, eyes wide and round, before he laughed, recognizing her as a fellow turncoat.

“I killed 35 people,” she said that day— she ran away from the Mafia with the full intent of killing herself, at some point, but she ended up saving a man instead.

“So what?” he answered, and gave her a chance.

Or maybe it was him who saved her, the lines have blurred since then.

And so, she’d been hired, passing the agency test, though no one but Dazai — and probably Ranpo, smart as he is — knows of her background.

She is snapped out of her recollection as the loudspeakers let out a high-pitched sound.

“ An announcement from the driver's cabin ,” the loudspeakers sputter out. “ I apologize for the intrusion! Now, I am about to conduct a little experiment!”

The voice is familiar, one Kyouka has encountered several times before. She blanches, hand closing tight around Yosano’s arm. “That’s—”

The voice keeps going, enthusiastically announcing the passengers would be the subject of the experiment. Then, the train churns, shaken by a sudden explosion.

“Do you know who that is?” Yosano asks, having noticed her reaction.

"Did two or three people just die~?” the voice continues. “The next blast will do better than that! I have installed bombs at both ends of the train — enough to blow everyone up!”

“Kyouka-chan?” Yosano insists.

“Motojiro Kajii,” Kyouka answers, trembling.

Yosano stills, recognizing the name. Kajii, despite being in the Mafia, is still a bomber and explosive specialist well-known of the authority and, as a result, of the agency.

That Kyouka is able to recognize him by voice is a whole other can of worms.

“Well then, hello Kyouka-chan~" he calls in a sing-song voice. “ We’re here for your head, and if you you’re careful all those passengers may not be blown up all the way to heaven...it’s up to you!”

So, the Mafia is coming for her already? She joined the agency barely two days ago, how did they find her so quickly?

“We don’t have a lot of options,” Yosano says, deciding the aforementioned can of worms will have to wait. “Either we let them take you, or we jump out of this train with dozens of passengers. Or—” she sets her hand on her hips.

“We fight them?” Kyouka suggests. She doesn’t want to face Kajii, she would need to use Demon Snow to beat him, and right now this is the last thing she wants.

“I’ll got at the front and take care of the bomber. You go look for the bomb at the back.”

“Kajii has a special ability too.”

“Do you know what it is?”

“Yes.” At Yosano’s questioning glance, she elaborates. “He is immune to lemon shaped bombs. He uses them to fight, especially if he is fighting up close. It allows him to stay unarmed while doing a lot of damage to his opponent.”

“Thank you,” Yosano says. “This information is precious; I’ll keep it in mind.”

Kyouka nods. “Be careful,” she tells her, because she knows Kajii and how dangerous he is despite appearances.

“Don’t worry.” Yosano pats her head with a smile. “We’re the Armed Detective Agency.”

Taking that as a reassurance, Kyouka takes off, running towards the back of the train.

If Kajii is the head of the squad behind this attack, then maybe he’s the only one with an ability. The bomber at the back, hopefully, isn’t as strong, ability or not, and she may be able to take him without using Demon Snow.

She pushes past the crowd pressing around her until she reaches the second to last carriage, fully expecting a group of black-clad, armed men to ambush her at any moment. Instead, she runs straight into a teenage boy.

“S-Sorry!”

“You shouldn’t stay here,” Kyouka tells him. “You heard him. There is a bomb.”

“I know— I—”

Her instincts tell her something is wrong. The boy is a few years older than her, white haired and golden eyed, and she doesn’t recognize him at all. He is pale and looks just as scared as everyone else, but something is wrong.

He is dressed in black.

There is a gun strapped to his belt.

Then, he starts running past her, further towards the back of the train, and she runs after him until he’s cornered in the very last carriage — one the civilians have already evacuated.

“I— I’m Atsushi.”

“Kyouka.”

“I know.” He gulps, and his hand closes around the handle of the gun at his belt. “I’m supposed to keep the bomb safe,” he says, “and kill you.”

Atsushi doesn’t look like a mafia operative, but neither did Kyouka in her days. He is obviously a newbie, but it doesn’t make sense. Kyouka, before being a traitor, was regarded as a competent and powerful assassin, so why give this kind of task to a newcomer?

It doesn’t matter. Two days ago, she would have welcomed death gladly. She doesn’t deserve to live — she has killed 35 people in six months, her ability exists for murder, and her skills revolve around assassination.

But now her wish has changed.

“You’ve killed 35 people, so what?” Dazai said. “Does it make you unsuitable for the agency?”

She thought so, but Dazai is suitable for the agency despite having been an executive, and she passed the test — a test of character, for them to see how willing she is to help people in need.

Glancing back, she looks at the civilian in the next car. If she doesn’t find the bomb, they’ll die.

If she can save them, with her own skills, maybe she can truly believe Dazai.

Maybe she can give herself a chance. Maybe it’ll be okay for her to continue living in the light, to help people in the hope that one day she’ll earn her right to be alive.

Clutching at the phone, at the only thing she’s left of her mother, she shifts her position, moves herself in front of the open door and draws her blade, standing ready to protect them.

Atsushi’s hand shakes, and so does his gun.

Getting him to tell her where the bomb will be easy. He’s so scared of her it’s a wonder he hasn’t spilled his guts yet.

“Where is the bomb?” she asks.

“It’s—” He winces, and his free hand flies to his ear — an earbud, she notices. Someone is giving him orders from afar. Maybe Kajii? But if Yosano is keeping him busy... “If you try to escape, I’ll set it off.”

Someone on the other side shuts him up just as he goes to say something else, giving him more orders, and Kyouka takes advantage of his distraction. She adjusts her grip on her blade and moves. Her blade slashes through the teen’s shoulder, sends him sprawling backward on the ground with a scream of pain. He clutches at the wound, gasping, and she moves again, cutting his cheek.

She doesn’t want to kill him; she just wants him to talk.

“Where is the bomb?” she asks again, more forcefully.

The cut on Atsushi’s cheek heals before she can blink. So, he does have an ability — a healing power, then? Those are quite rare, but not suited for battle, making the fact that they sent him even stranger.

Pinching her lips, Kyouka attacks again, and he reflexively raises his arm to protect himself. She tries to hold back before she cuts through it too deeply, to avoid cutting the limb off, but her blade suddenly comes to a stop.

The teen’s arm has changed shape, stopping it before it could make damage. It’s now covered in fur — white and stripped with black — and his fingers have elongated in long, sharp looking claws.

He stares up at her, wide eyed, and they have changed too, now bright yellow with slit pupils.

“Oh—” His breathing becomes even more erratic. “It’s coming,” he says quickly, agitated, “I’m really sorry.”

And his whole body shifts. His skin boils over, his muscles distort and he lets out a pained grunt, killing intent rolling off him and Kyouka has to take a step back, fear only now starting a crawl up her guts.

A giant, white tiger stands in front of her, snarling.

“We are looking for a beast ,” Kunikida explained as he joined Dazai and her for dinner the night they met. “A giant, man-eating white tiger. The military police asked us to find it and dispose of it.”

The tiger the agency is looking for belongs to the Mafia.

All of Atsushi’s fear seems to have faded now that he is in his tiger form. He looks at her, eyes full of rage, and pounces.

Its claws rip through her clothes and sink into one of her arms, and she is thrown backwards, back hitting the train seats. Pain throbs through her but she doesn’t scream, merely grits her teeth and takes it.

Kyouka is a fool, sometimes. Underestimating the scared-looking teen was a mistake — has he been biding his time, camouflaging his killing intent, waiting for the moment he could transform and take her by surprise?

It attacks once more. She tries using her blade to fight back, but a single swat of his paw is enough to break it. Her body screams in pain as he hits her, and the severed half of her weapon clatters uselessly upon the floor.

She may need Demon Snow for this one. She grits her teeth, closing her eyes.

Her ability is good for nothing but battle, and she used it to murder 35 people under Akutagawa’s orders. Even before then, it killed her own mother. She doesn’t want to use it. But as the tiger looms over her, teeth bared, she knows she doesn’t have a choice. If he kills her, it could go after the civilians, and Kyouka will have been unable to save anyone .

The ghostly woman appears behind her, now bound to her will by the president’s ability. She takes in a deep breath, shoving aside her hate and disgust for it to focus on the fact that she is using it to save innocents.

It’s coming. I’m sorry .

She still can’t shake off the wrongness of the situation as Demon’s Snow cuts through one of the tiger’s legs. The suddenly missing limb throws him off balance and he collapse, but it doesn’t take long for it to grow back.

This Mafia newbie is a giant, regenerating tiger.

She doesn’t understand.

Why not set off the bomb like he threatened? Why keep up with the act until last second? Why is there still something wrong?

She thinks about the last six months, about Akutagawa’s orders coming from the phone and her ability reacting to it, outside of her control. She didn’t really want to kill anyone, but her ability had still obeyed.

It’s coming. I’m sorry .

It's not an act.

“You don’t control it,” she says out loud, staring up at the tiger. It stares back — there is nothing of the scared Atsushi in its eyes. “And you don’t want to kill me.”

The Mafia must have taken in another person with a destructive ability to make murder his life purpose, just like they did for her. She feels a twinge of sympathy for him — maybe, if she could convince him to show her the bomb earlier...

It doesn’t change a thing. Atsushi can’t hear her now. She closes her eyes, gripping her weapon tight. She doesn’t want to kill him either. But the civilians are her priority, she has to do everything in her power to keep them safe.

This isn’t Atsushi anymore.

The beast charges, and Demon Snow meets it heads on. Blood sprays around them as she cuts the tiger again, trying to slow it down. It heals fast, and she needs to be faster.

Distracting it with Demon Snow, she runs towards it. Another hit from the beast has her bones creak and protest, but she can’t give up. If it goes on a full rampage, bomb or not, everyone on this train is dead.

She slides between its legs and stabs its belly with what is left of her weapon. The beast roars and trashes, it tries to claw at Demon Snow, who avoids it. The metallic door bends and shatters under the blow. The people in the next carriage scream.

Before it can heal, she stabs it again and rolls out of the way. Demon Snow catches her and helps her as she jumps, grabbing onto the fur, until she’s on top of it.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “You’re just like me. I wish — I wish I could help.”

Her halved, jagged blade sinks deep into the back of the beast’s neck.

It shakes, and throws her off, stumbling. Its legs folds from under it, and she sees the strange, eerily glow of its eyes fade as its body shifts again.

Leaving Atsushi curled up on the floor, groaning in pain.

Atsushi coughs, one of his hand massaging his nape. It’s already healed, just like the cuts on his stomach. He looks up at her as she presses her blade to his throat, eyes roaming all over her, taking in each of her injuries.

She’s still standing, and there is something like relief in his eyes when he sees it.

“Why,” she asks, breathless, “do they send someone like you against me?”

“It’s—”

The ear bud has fallen off and he is now palming around, trying to find it, until gaze fixes itself on something close to Kyouka’s feet.

When she glances down, she sees it. The communication device has fallen there. Careful not to move her weapon and cut his throat by accident — though she now doubts it’ll actually kill him — she steps on it, crushing it under her shoe.

No orders will come for him anymore.

“It’s a test.”

She almost lowers her weapon in surprise. “A test.”

He nods. “I am — a beast,” he tries to explain. “A beast of calamity. I bring misfortune to everyone around me. My life has no worth at all if I can’t be of use to someone—” he licks his lips. “Akutagawa said—”

Akutagawa. Of course, it’s Akutagawa . He must also be the one who convinced him he is a calamity.

“Akutagawa said, that if I kill you and protect the bomb, I will have proven useful to him, and they’ll keep me and show me how to control the beast.”

“And if you fail?”

“They’ll sell me — there is this organization looking for me, the Guild? Or the military police, he said they will put me down. But—” he shakes his head, and his voice’s pitch rises. “I don’t want to hurt you, or anyone! ”

She almost asks why he didn’t just say so — but the answers come to her by itself as she remembers the earbud she just crushed. If Akutagawa was on the line, Kyouka doesn’t doubt that, at the slightest hint of Atsushi trying to explain, he would have blown all of them to kingdom come.

First, they need to defuse the bomb.

“The bomb,” she says instead. “Tell me where it is.”

Paling, Atsushi tugs at his white tie, undoing it, before unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt, pulling it open to reveal part of his chest — and the bomb strapped to it.

She can’t, for a few seconds, breathe. Her knuckles turn bone white as she clenches hard around the handle of her blade.

The bomb is on him. Akutagawa put the bomb on him.

She doesn’t expect the sudden rage bubbling under her skin.

“Okay.” She says, trying to stay composed. “We will take it off.”

She can still save him. She can still keep him safe. She can save the passengers and Atsushi.

Kneeling besides him, she takes a look at the way the bomb is attached. It would be more prudent to carefully undo the strap than try to cut it with her weapon.

“He’s wrong,” she suddenly says. It’s been bugging her since Atsushi said it. “You’re not a calamity.”

“What?”

“Akutagawa is lying. He told me that my life only had value if I killed people. So, I did. But—” she shakes her head, looking for the straps holding the bomb to his chest. “I'm working on changing it, which means he was wrong. He will make you into a calamity if you obey him, but you don't have to. You can still get away.”

“Kyouka-san, I brought a bomb in this train.”

“So what?”

Compared to 35 people in six months, one bomb they’re working on defusing is nothing.

She looks at him in the eyes, serious. She wants this point to get across, to show him what Dazai showed her.

Unlike her, he hasn’t truly harmed anyone yet. If people like Dazai and her can have a chance at something different, at giving their lives the value they want instead of the one others want to give it, Atsushi can too.

“I put all those people in danger—”

“So what?” she says again. “Do you wish to hurt anyone?”

“No!”

Her fingers close around his wrist, steadying his trembling hands. “Then what do you wish for?"

“I want—” He choked on his own breath. “I want to fix this.”

“We will,” she promises and he looks at her doubtfully. “I’m from the Armed Detective Agency. It's my job to help now.”

It seems to calm him down, and he smiles at her tentatively. "Thank you."

She is just about to resign herself to cut through the straps when the speakers come to life.

“Announcement from the driver’s cabin!”

Yosano’s voice echoes through the train, and both Kyouka and Atsushi look up to the nearest loudspeaker

“Is Kyouka-chan alive? ” Yosano asks. “ That bomber wasn’t actually that much to deal with. According to him, the bomb on your end is set off remotely. It’ll blow fast if not defused properly too— is that right?” A soft mumble is heard through the speaker — Kajii sounding very out of it. Yosano hums in approval at the reaction. “The only way to defuse it is with the emergency button, that the Mafia member on your end has.”

Turning to him, she extends a hand without a word.

“Ah—” Atsushi stands and dusts his pants, before taking a remote out of his back pocket. “Yes, I have it.” He holds it out to her, allowing her to take it. “Here.”

Kyouka studies it. It’s a simple remote, with a single button at the center, but there is a gnawing suspicion in her guts. It’s too easy.

Akutagawa would never let them get away so easily — send a newbie so obviously unwilling to harm anyone with the only mean to defuse the bomb? That’s practically asking him to disarm it and make a run for it.

Was he counting on her to kill Atsushi swiftly and try to defuse it on her own? Did he think the prospect of being caught and killed — or sold to whoever gave the Mafia the most money — would be enough of a deterrent? Did he believe the promise of acceptance, of giving his life worth, would have him cave in and obey?

Atsushi looks at her expectantly, biting his lips, twisting his fingers. He tries hard not to show how terrified he is, and Kyouka nods at him, attempting to be reassuring.

She presses the button.

Her phone rings.

Heart pounding in her chest, she freezes.

The phone — Akutagawa used it to control Demon Snow, but she didn’t want to get rid of it anyway. It was what she had left of the mother her own ability had killed, and he couldn’t take that away from her.

With a shaking hand, she flips it open, and Akutagawa’s voice echoes from the other side. “ He pressed it, didn’t he?”

Her eyes fly to Atsushi, who is trying very hard not to move, and she makes herself sound more confident for his sake. “Leave him alone.”

Atsushi slowly backs away from her, but her focus is back on the phone.

“How cute, ” Akutagawa says dryly. “Don’t take it off, weretiger. Kyouka decided to take all the passengers with her.”

“Kyouka-san—”

She whips around. The bomb makes a ticking noise, and she drops the phone. It clicks shut as it bounces on her chest.

“Take it off,” she orders, but Atsushi takes another step back instead, towards the gaping hole left by the tiger’s claws earlier in the fight.

“It’s too late. I’m sorry — I— It’s my fault everyone here is in danger.” He’s speaking fast, words almost mixing with each other. “They’re right, I only bring trouble and bad luck but— it’s better if I —” His jaw clenches, and the fear fades from his eyes. “I want to fix it. It's the only way.”

He is getting closer to the edge. The train is passing over the river and the drop, on top of the explosion, would probably kill him, the explosion too close for the regeneration to kick in fast enough.

He’s going to jump, and it’s like she can’t move to stop him.

"I made this mess and my life has no value anyway, so if I can do something right—” His heels come to the edge of the drop. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Don’t—”

“Thank you, Miss Detective.” Atsushi smiles at her. “You helped a lot.”

He falls.

Kyouka runs.

She jumps after him, Demon Snow materializing in front of her, pulling her downward until she can wrap one of her arms around him. With a quick work of her weapon, her ability cuts the bomb free, and Kyouka grabs it with her free hand, flinging it away from them.

It blows in a jumble of unbearable heat and ear-piercing sound and a burning sensation on her skin, and Demon Snow embraces them, taking the brunt of it.

They hit the water hard and the cold makes her skin tingle where the heat burned her. She can’t see straight, can’t tell up apart from down.

When her head breaks the surface, she takes a large gulp of air and coughs. She stays there for almost a minute, refusing to move, her muscles aching but still holding onto Atsushi.

Then, she kicks her feet, trying to swim, though a kimono is probably not the best outfit for it. In the end, Demon Snow reappears on its own, gently wrapping its arms around them and pulling them towards the riverbank.

After being hauled there, Kyouka pulls Atsushi up on the dry ground, never once letting go of him. She breathes in deeply, the adrenaline fading, and her shoulders slump. Her kimono sleeves are charred, but thankfully she wasn’t burned in the explosion.

Atsushi still unconscious, she gives him a once over, making sure he’s not hurt. One of his sleeves is ripped and the slight burns are already healing, but he otherwise looks fine.

“We made it,” she whispers, holding him close, fingers running through his hair.

She will have Akutagawa’s skin if he harms him again.

Demon Snow sits by them, and one of her translucent hands rests on Atsushi’s shoulder. Kyouka pointedly looks away.

She did it. She used Demon Snow to help and protect, but still, she can’t forget that it’s her ability who murdered her mother, the ability she used to kill so many people.

But it saved them.

If she keeps using it to save people, maybe one day she’ll have earned her right to life, the same way Dazai is earning his own.

“Kyouka-chan!” The clacking of heals on the cement draws her attention to Yosano, hurrying in her direction. She stops once she reaches them. “Any injuries?”

“I’m fine,” Kyouka answers. The cuts the claws left in her arms sting. “But I’m not sure about him. I want to bring him back to the office.”

Yosano pauses, considering the tight grip Kyouka has on the boy, and the way Demon Snow looms over them protectively. The translucent woman’s head snaps up towards her, blank face evaluating her until Yosano is deemed harmless and she fades away.

“He is from the Mafia, isn’t he?”

Kyouka shakes her head no. “He is not an enemy.”

“Very well.” Yosano straightens up and fishes her phone out of her bag. “Let's take him home, then.”

#atsukyouweek2020 #bsd #bungou stray dogs #nakajima atsushi #izumi kyouka #bsd atsushi #bsd kyouka #cw violence #writing

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louu-7 · 4 years

Text

everything i don’t know

on wattpad

CHAPTER 4:

I can finally get out of this house. It’s only for a few hours, but it’s better to be a step ahead, and I’m not gonna miss my chance to enjoy the fresh air of the island…

I finish adjusting my outfit and leave my room to rejoin my parents at the first floor, then my sister arrive too. She’s perfect, as usual, with her beautiful red hair and her elegant style. She just always is the one that my parents want me to be, and I really think that sometimes she likes it when they tell me that I should dress like her, but it’s Alyssa.

“Do you know where are we going, young girl?” Asks my mom while I’m checking my phone, waiting for Isaac to come. “Yes, sure,” I look up and shrug, “to the restaurant. What’s the matter?”.

“You should dress up correctly, we aren’t some of these parents who can’t afford a pretty dress for their daughter. Why don’t you put a dress on?”

“Mom, we only go to the restaurant, it’s not like it was an event or some chic parties. But next time I’ll try, promise.”

“Everything that we do does matter. People have to take us seriously. Go put a dress on now please.” My father come back from one of his million business calls. “Dad, please, I don’t want to-”

“You don’t have to discuss this decision. Just listen, we have to go.”

I slightly sigh and turn toward the stairs to climb it and get to my room to look into my closet and grab my favorite one, a simple blue short dress before putting it on. I don’t particularly have a problem with being well dressed but I feel like I’m mocking the people who can’t afford all this get-up when I put something really formal just to go to the restaurant…

I look at myself in the mirror and fake a smile. You can do it Thara, it’s only for a few hours, and it’s your favorite dress, I think as Dad yell my name from the first ground.

I don’t answer, brush my hair so it’s softer and perfume myself a little more. They should be happy of what they see now. Something’s missing tho… my eyes observe the makeup that I got and my eyeliner attract my regard. I decide to do a fine line on each one of my eyes, and I’m ready.

I lay my phone in my black purse, inhale and come back to my parents. They all inspect me and this kind of reaction’s pretty annoying for me, but I’m used to it.

“Can we go now?” I ask while opening the door to get out and prevent them from staring at me this way. “Sure, let’s go.”

“You look stunning Thara, you really should be more dressing up like this.” Says my mom when she starts walking next to me. “Thank you.”

“Being dressed up don’t prevent you from smiling, you should take a leaf out of your sister’s book.”

“Leave her alone OK.” My sister come to my defense and take my hand in hers. “I just say that she could be more enthusiastic than how she is-”

“Shut the hell up Isaac.”

“Kids, don’t make me a scene now and let’s have a good time, OK. Thara, pay attention to your language please, it’s not the language expected from you.”

I apologize and we arrive in front of the car. I give a faint smile to the man who opens me the car door before sitting into the black backseat. The leather make me shivering, and everything’s so dark on the inside, it’s like the night came in a minute.

The chauffeur starts the car, and we’re finally getting out of this house. This restaurant trip is the first thing that we do together since the beginning of this summer. They all seem to be so occupied that they always forgot our diner, or our walk on the beach, until today.

Once in the restaurant, a waiter guide us through the room and bring us at a table in a corner. We all take place and I quickly tie my hair up in a bun before my Dad look daggers at me. I do my best to ignore this look when my mind make me remember about the gun.

I can’t stop thinking about it. Since when does he need a fucking gun? And mostly, did he already used it? This question don’t wanna leave me, and every time I look at him in the eyes I just freak out. My Dad knows everything and if he notices that I get weird with him, he’s gonna questioning me until I “confess”.

“What do you want darling?” Asks my Mom while I get lost in my mind. I would prefer to be at the beach and eat burgers to be honest… “Hum, I don’t know, a chicken salad’s good I guess. I’m not hungry, I just wanna hang out at the beach so…”

“Sure?” Alyssa looks at me and I smile to agree.

We order, and the courses are quickly in front of us. I eat in less than fifteen minute. My impatience is killing me, and also my parents apparently. They take their time, talk business, and anyone of us is talking about something cool.

“Did you choose your options for next year sweetheart?” Dad brings some vegetables to his mouth while looking at me.

“Hum, I...” I shrug and look around to escape from this question. “I didn’t really think about it yet but like I told you, I’m not sure I wanna go to college…”

“And we already answered that it wasn’t an option.”

“But you can’t send me to college without my permission.”

“We’re doing whatever we want, we are your parents, darling.” My Mom fakes a smile at me and I grit my teeth.

I sigh and stand up before excusing myself and rapidly reach the bathroom. I arrive in the big room full of mirrors and decide to put a little bit of water on my cheeks. I feel so bad to be so controlled by them. I would like to have a talk with them, to discuss like adults about my future, not having to listen to their orders.

Dad certainly would like me to work for the vineyard, with him and Isaac. The kind of work where you’re staying in an office all day and come back at home to live a boring life. I don’t like this kinda work, I wanna be outside, feel the warmth of the sun all day and work for something useful. I wanna be useful for the Outer Banks.

My dream job would be to work with sea animals, it would be the goal of my like, working around dolphins, turtles, whales or sharks and fishes, I would love it. There’s a real world in the sea, and we don’t see it until we get interested in it. I just would to protect these fragile world...

The thing is, I don’t know yet if I wanna go to college and study marine biology or find a refuge or an association so volunteer can teach me everything they know. College isn’t gonna make me explore sea depth unlike associations or refuge, if I’m lucky.

I come back with my dear imperfect family and sit to wait until the end of the lunch so we can go to the beach, and feel the sun, and listen to the sea.

It’s the next day and tonight’s gonna be a really good moment, because we’re invite, like everyone on the island, pogues and kooks, at Cameron’s house. Why? Because every year we’re celebrating the union between people. I know, it’s completely hypocrite and kind of disgusting to know that everyone is playing a role to show that they’re perfect, kind, smart and everything.

Anyway, the party’s at 8pm, it’s 6pm and I didn’t start to prepare. I’m chilling since at least an hour and a half, checking my phone, walking around impatiently. Tonight, nobody’s gonna tell me what do I have to do, how do I have to act and with who do I have to talk, because it’s union and love.

Love’s big word but, they’re claiming that it’s a love relationship between kooks and pogues. It isn’t, of course, but that’s great, I’m so happy and I can’t wait. Tonight I have the chance to talk to Sarah and get everything clear with her. I hope she’s gonna forgive me…

“Babe! Did you choose what dress are you gonna wear tonight?” Alyssa’s asking from her room. “Yeah, I’m almost ready. What ‘bout you?”

“What did you choose?” She suddenly appears behind my door and enters to let herself fall on my bed. “Look, I didn’t even know this dress was in my closet but I love it.” I bring the dress that I found before the story of the gun and she smiles while observing it before standing up and take it from me. “Are you sure?”.

I frown, confused, and look at the dress. “Yeah. Is it too much with the sparkles and everything?”

“No. It’s not enough, do you have something else?”

“You kiddin’ me? This is enough for me.” Shes raises her eyebrows while looking back at me, surprised, even shook. “What, there’s a lot of sparkles, and it’s a long dress.”

“But nobody’s gonna notice you. You need a more puffy dress so-”

“No no no, that’s perfect for me if I’m invisible, leave me alone so I can put it on.”

“Babe how can you kick me out?” She asks with a fake sad voice and I sigh while smiling. “C’mon Aly, leave me alone girl!” We laugh and she gives up so I’m alone in my room. I put the dress on and lock myself in the bathroom. OK, I won’t leave this room until I’m ready, even if it takes the two hours left before the beginning of the celebration.

I turn on my speaker and put music so loud that I don’t hear anything else. And Dad’s not gonna tell me anything because he’s not here. And my mother doesn’t care that much. Anyway they’re pissed off against me since the pogue thing. The only one who could annoy me is Isaac, but I’m locked and I don’t hear nothing so I’m not gonna hear him and his complaining.

I start by the makeup, while dancing and singing in front of my mirror, and then I hear someone’s knocking when the song ends. I open and Alyssa’s coming in, dressed up. I know what does that means. Let’s sing and dance in wild dresses for two hours straight…

We’re all ready, and to be honest we took two hours and I only put mascara, eyeliner, a bit of blush and a translucent gloss. That’s it. And we just arrived at Sarah’s house, I can’t wait to have a talk with her, because I’m sure I can ask Alyssa to go and tell her to meet me at the bathroom or something.

I don’t know why am I so excited about tonight, it’s maybe because my life isn’t that fun, so when there’s a party that’s kinda cool. Anyway we’re warmly welcomed by Sarah’s parents, and they come with us to the garden, the big garden where everyone’s gossiping, drinking champagne and acting perfect.

I take the hand of Alyssa’s in mine and take her away so the parents aren’t hearing us.

“OK, I have a mission for you, and I’m serious. Can you please go talk to Sarah and tell her I’m waiting for her at the bathroom. And also tell that it’s serious like, I really want to, and don’t tell the parents.”

“What, why do you wanna talk to her, she’s-”

“My friend. She’s my friend and I love her so much, and since we can’t talk I never had the chance to explain her what happened.”

“And when?”

“Right now, go.”

She looks at me, exasperate by my person, and I smile so she does the same and search for the blond to go talk to her. I come back to my parents and tell them I have to go to the bathroom. They don’t seem to believe me but I don’t care, Sarah’s my best friend, we’ve been known each other for years. They’re not gonna keep me away from her for the eternity.

So I wait, five, or ten minutes, and the door eventually open before letting her coming in. We look at each other for a moment and I sadly frown before walking towards her so I can take her n my arms. She responds to my hug and I smile, relieved.

“I’m so sorry for everything and I didn’t mean to stop talking to you overnight.”

“You owe me an explanation tho babe.”

“I know.”

We let go each other and I sigh.

“It’s kinda simple, you know as well as me that my parents hate the pogues, and when they found out that you were hanging with them they just forced me to delete your phone number and forget you, but I never did, of course.” I let out a little nervous laugh.

“What, really? They really have a problem with pogues, I mean, they’re human, not monsters.”

“Yeah, I know…”

“Give me your phone, gonna write my number so we can talk again.”

I give her my phone and we continue to talk for sometimes before someone literally comes in and caught us. It’s actually her mom, and of based on how she’s, she’s not gonna tell my parents that we talked. I hope so…

She advises us to come back and we agree. At least we have our phones, and maybe I will have the chance to go with her at some moments of the evening. My parents won’t be able to keep their eyes on me all along the night.

“I’m so happy to talk to you again.” She says before hugging me. “Me too babe, I missed you so much.”

“Oh, also, you owe me an explanation about something else, but we talk ‘bout it by text, love you.” She gets out of the bathroom first. “Hum, yeah, OK, even if I don’t know what you’re talking about, love you too. You look amazing.”

“You too babe.” She turns towards me and send me a kiss.

We laugh and I get out of the bathroom at my turn. I come back with my parents again and smile at Alyssa when she shrugs. A waiter is walking through the people and distribute some glasses of champagne, I take two, for me and my amazing sis.

“Cheers! I laugh happily and she does the same.” My parents seem… cold with me. Or maybe they’re also like that with Aly and Isaac. All they have in mind is business, every time.

I spend my night drinking a lot champagne, talking, dancing and singing with Aly, and it’s a really good evening. Moreover, we’re texting with Sarah, everything’s perfect. The only boring thing is this man who’s doing a speech on love between people and everything, even if everyone of us know that war between pogues and kooks isn’t gonna end up that easily…

Moreover, I think I can put my parents in the list of boring things. They didn’t talk to me since we’re here, and I don’t even know why. Certainly because of what happened with this pogue and Nate… if only he didn’t tell everyone what happened, they would never have known.

I keep looking at them, smiling at everyone and ignoring me, and it makes me feel so bad, and abandoned, and it reminds me of everything they’re doing to keep me away from nobody even when I’m always acting like they want. I listen to their orders, I’m smiling to people that I don’t know because it’s polite, I try to do my best every time and it feels like they never notice.

It’s time for changes.

#outerbanks #outer #banks #outer banks #pogue #kook #sarah cameron #secret

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musesbygeoff · 4 years

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Who Gives a Cup Sick Burns Appeal

Event: Who Gives A Cup

Entrant: Shamus Baruda

Category: Sick Burns

Pokemon: Incineroar, Ducklett, Emboar, Heatmor

Words: 1400+

Shamus walked out to the stage. He was ready for this appeal. He was going to use four Pokémon for this appeal: Incineroar, Ducklett, Emboar, and Heatmor; though the focus will be mostly on just two Pokémon: Incineroar and Ducklett. The four Pokémon were kept backstage until their respective cues. As the stage was set circular for the crowd, the logical spot for Shamus to be would be the middle of the stage. He does after all like the center of attention.

One of his props being used for this appeal is a microphone, a common prop of his, he loves to talk and the freedom to trash talk anyone made this contest a must attend for the fire enthusiast.

Once to the center, he boasted to the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Shamus Baruda, the trainer to the Pokémon team, the Fire Warriors! Now you may remember me from the Wallace Cup a few years ago where I had Vaporeon make a lovely snow sculpture of Wallace, only for it to be gloriously decapitated by my Fire Warrior, Incineroar. Now that was years ago, and I’ve grown up since then, but I never had the chance to make things right. So, tonight, both Incineroar and I are going to make amends with the decorated coordinator and champion Wallace. Incineroar, come on out!”

A pyro of fire explodes near the entrance stage and Incineroar’s music hit.

Incineroar walked out from backstage. Walking rather slowly to have the crowd get a good look at the third stage fire type and his strong body. It takes him about 30 seconds to reach Shamus and as he does, he puts his arms in the air, setting off another round of the pyros, at 40 seconds the fire has gone away, and the music stops at 1 minute.

“Incineroar, thank you for being here. As I understand you too want to get in on this ‘apology’ to Wallace, correct?” Shamus asked his Pokémon.

Incineroar nodded.

“Roar, Incineroar.” The fire tiger growled.

“Alright, let’s get Wallace out here. Ladies and gentlemen, all the way from the Hoenn region, please welcome the Sootopolis gym leader, a former Pokémon champion, a Grand Festival winner and the host of his very own contest tournament, Wallace!”

Wallace entrance theme hits.

However, out came, not Wallace! But a puny little Ducklett! The Ducklett was seemingly dressed like Wallace, however. The Ducklett came out wearing a green wig and a small light blue tuxedo, both fitted for a small water duck Pokémon of course.

As Ducklett was waddling down to the stage, he tripped and fell on his face! The trip happened around the 20 second mark of the song, and from there the song stops.

“Oh!” Shamus exclaimed. “It’s alright folks! What were you expecting him to not mess up simply coming down to the stage? You’re expecting too much from Wallace! This is actually on par for water type users!”

Shamus takes a brief pause as Ducklett started to get up again.

“Ah, there we go! He’s alright everyone! He’s okay!” Shamus stated.

Ducklett made his way to Shamus and Incineroar.

“Wow, look at this. Incineroar, can you stand next to Ducklett, I mean, Wallace there?” Shamus instructed his fire Pokémon. Shamus lucked out in getting an Incineroar on the big side of the species, standing at 6’5 and 240 pounds; half a foot plus 60 pounds bigger than average. It towered over the 1’5” Ducklett posing as Wallace.

Incineroar looked back to his trainer.

“Roar, roar.” Incineroar grumbled.

“I agree, Incineroar! For those folks who don’t understand fire type Pokémon, Incineroar is saying that after thinking things over, he feels that Wallace should be the one apologizing to us!” Shamus pointed a finger at ‘Wallace’.

“Quack,” Ducklett quacked. The Ducklett nibbled at his tuxedo.

“For one thing, back at the Sootopolis City gym I defeated Wallace for his gym’s badge, while the battle was under water! That’s right, MY Fire Warriors DEFEATED Wallace’s WATER Pokémon at the Sootopolis City Gym, UNDER WATER! He denied Incineroar of his hard work and refused to give us a badge. Later, we put on a legendary, to this day still talked about appeal at his own event and he had the shame to disqualify and ban me! So, in Unova the way we settle this is a battle. Wallace, will go one on one with Incineroar!” Shamus shouted. “Ring the bell!”

Shamus gave himself a bit of distance for his Inicineroar and Ducklett (a stand in for Wallace) to face-off. A bell rung and the mock battle was on!

“Incineroar, why don’t we let Wallace go first? Show us what he’s got! Let’s see how powerful Wallace and his power of water really is! Wallace, show us a water gun!”

“Quack,” Ducklett opened his mouth and out came a puny stream of water, looking almost like a drool. The water landed down by the duck’s feet. Incineroar was in no way affected by this attack.

“Aww, I have to admit, my bar for water types were low! But, from you Wallace? The BEST water trainer out there? That’s the best you got?!,” Shamus exclaimed. “Well, that’s on me! I shouldn’t have expected as much! Why don’t we try something simpler? Try bubble!”

A small bubble barely passes through the beak of Ducklett, almost more like a bubble you see cartoon characters make when they are sleeping. Not a full stream of bubbles, just that one bubble, and it popped immediately after leaving the mouth of Ducklett.

“Okay, well that’s the best Wallace and his waterpower has, and remember, he’s the best water trainer out there! So, let’s get this over with quickly! Flamethrower Incineroar!” Shamus shouted for Incineroar to use his signature flamethrower move. His firebelt heated up and shot a blast of fire from the middle. The flames surrounded Ducklett and the (fire-proof, don’t worry folks, Ducklett is fine!) caught fire.

The Ducklett (as Wallace) spun around and around trying to get the fire off, eventually rolling on the ground. Doing so, however, made the water type dizzy and knocked himself unconscious. Incineroar put his paw on the chest of ‘Wallace’.

Shamus came in and hit the ground with his hand.

“ONE!” He shouted.

“TWO!” Shamus hit the ground again.

“THREE!” Shamus hit the ground with his hand one more time and the bell sound effect went off again.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your winner, INCINEROAR of the Fire Warriors!” Shamus exclaimed and pointed to the victorious Pokémon who grinned and posed for the crowd with his arms up. Ducklett was returned to his Pokeball.

“So that makes us, in a way, 3-0 against the Sootopolis gym leader, and I think that means, we should be rewarded, the Rain badge, and I think we should also claim our prize that was rightfully ours—the Wallace Cup!”

Emboar comes out the back and is holding a paper mache replicas of the Rain Badge and the Wallace Cup. Heatmor also came from the back, carrying a trash can.

Emboar handed Shamus the paper mache badge and trophy, and Shamus responded by…throwing them on the ground!

Incineroar’s belt lit up again and fire came from his belt and blasted towards the ‘badge’ and ‘trophy’. Emboar next also blasted fire from his mouth, as did Heatmor. All three fire types used flamethrower on the fake badge and trophy.

With both on fire, Heatmor’s claws glowed white and he started slashing at them, putting out the flames and shredding the props to pieces.

“Yeah,” Shamus spoke again on the mic. “I no longer care or want anything resembling from Wallace, and the only thing you can do with Wallace stuff.” He picked up both destroyed props and placed it in the trash can. “Is throw it in the trash!”

Shamus then put 3 fingers into the air.

“Fire Warriors 3,” he then closed his fingers together to replicate a ‘0’, “Wallace, 0!” Shamus then dropped the mic and walked out with his Fire Warriors, effectively ending his ‘Sick Burns’ Appeal at the Who Gives a Cup.

As for how he will be judged for this appeal? Who gives a cup?! Shamus was only in it to roast Wallace, and he felt he had gloriously. If the judge didn’t like it? Who gives a cup? The real Wallace pretends he didn’t see it? Who gives a cup? If the audience didn’t like it? Who gives a cup? Shamus knows he only made the appeal about himself, and that’s all the audience and judge were going to get.

#wgac2020appeals #muse: shamus #thankfully this was for fun. i don't know if i'll ever get any ideas for a full-fledged appeal moving forward #if this was serious this is by far my worst appeal. XD

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wheremytwinwatches · 4 years

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[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 9

Hey, no narrator explaining the Alchemy basics this time, just straight into the intro song? Last time, the Elrics broke into the Fifth Lab, encountered two Soul Armors, and Pudgy the Jerk made Al wonder about his free will. Here’s hoping that we fix these worries this episode.

Episode 09 - “Created Feelings” Annoyed Ed is Annoyed, scowling in his hospital bed. Ross and Brosh try to stay positive, but have to admit to Ed that the Lab’s kinda gone the same way as the library. And Ed can’t even get properly mad about that, he’s so beat up. So close to finding out the truth… Wait, what are you two apologizing for? If anything Ed’s the one who should be apologizing for running- OH! Ed done just got slapped by Ross, who’s calling him a selfish child, who doesn’t have to do everything by himself. Thanks for knocking some sense into the boy, Ross! Ross and Brosh maintain their professional demeanor (did they rehearse this earlier, their performance is spot on), right up until Ed admits he had it coming and they collapse in relief. Oh hey, explanation that SA’s are equivalent to major, like you guys said. Ed lets them know they don’t have to act so professional around him. Um, but maybe a bit more professional than that? Where’s Al in all this? He got his lecture earlier (and Brosh was the attempted slapper). And speaking of lectures… Uh oh. Ed’s gotta call Winry, tell her that his arm’s busted already. Immediately she remembers that loose screw. Whoops! Still ticked off that Ed got in another fight, but she recovers quickly and makes plans to head for Central. [Brosh]: “Aw, was that your girlfriend?” [Ed]: “My girlfriend? No way!” Yeah, just keep telling yourself that, buddy. Brosh wheels Ed back to the room since Ed’s busted up his stomach injury again, idly trying to talk girls with Annoyed Ed. Oh hey, there’s Al! Whatcha doing in the dark, buddy? Ugh, Al’s still brooding over what Pudgy said. And in a moment of cosmic irony, some kid’s robot toy walks right into him. Seeing an example of what we know he used to be, and what Pudgy said that he is… Damn it. I don’t wanna consider it. But do we know for sure that Pudgy’s wrong? I mean, we saw kid-Alphonse up until he was consumed in the Human Transmutation. And we’ve seen other examples of Soul Armor with Pompous and Pudgy. But do we know for sure that there was continuation of consciousness? You have to admit, it’s possible that Soul Armors create an impression of a person, formulate an identity based on the thoughts of the binder. Al’s thinking of his little brother when he does the binding, and the resulting suit of armor acts like his brother used to. The executioners think about the murderers that they are hanging, and that carries over to the new guards. We haven’t even had a non-Armor perspective of Al, even. I just can’t discount the possibility. At the train station, Winry’s complaining about the seats, wondering how Ed and Al can take so many trips. Looking around the West Exit, she should see someone she recogni- oh hey Armstrong! That was easy enough. But she’s still looking around? Uh oh. She doesn’t understand why the Elric Brothers aren’t there as well. Now Winry’s freaking out at the hospital, staring at the heavily-bandaged Ed even as he snarks that she’ll probably charge him an express service fee. To which she says she won’t charge anything, she didn’t do a good enough job last time? Woof. While she mopes, the others look pointedly at Ed, who starts frantically insisting it’s not her fault. Winry realizes that Ed never noticed the missing screw, really thinks that it’s all his fault. So she’s off the hook! What a relief, now she can treat him like normal! Cue her setting out express fee, chiding him for not drinking his milk, Ed whining that he doesn’t wanna, The Mighty Armstrong being VERY DISPLEASED with Ed’s attitude - yay, we’re back to happy times! But Al was looking through the door, just closed it and walked away. Boo, give me back my happy times! As Winry works on the arm, Ed talks about how Al’s been acting odd lately (Winry takes the opportunity to sneak the missing screw into the repairs). Al’s back in the Shadowed Hallway, looking into a mirror, shattering a mirror with barely any effort.

Repairs are done, Ed’s thanking Winry for the work- Sudden Civilian-dress!Hughes! [Hughes]: “Yo, Ed, my boy! Is it true that you brought a pretty blonde girl into your room to service you?” [Ed]: “*faceplant* She’s my automail mechanic that’s all! Nothing more!” [Hughes]: “Oh… I see. You’ve seduced your mechanic, have you?” Oh jeez. Hope you’re good at dodging, Hughes. I’m pretty sure Winry has a wrench with your name on it. Or rather he’ll just enthusiastically shake her hand. And Ed can’t just tell him to go do his work, he pushed it all off to poor Sheska. But good news, Ed and Al shouldn’t have to be under guard too much longer!... Winry is not to pleased to hear about this “bodyguard” business. Did you seriously not explain how your arm got obliterated before? Nope, he didn’t tell her then, and his stubborn attitude means all he’ll say now is that it “doesn’t concern her”. Jeez, Ed. You don’t make it easy to be your friend. Winry packs up and says that she’ll see him tomorrow, she’s got to find someplace to stay for the night. Oh hey, a new houseguest for Hughes! Brace yourself for photo-albums, Winry. Actually, forget photo albums! How about a whole birthday party for Elicia! (Dang, should have seen this episode yesterday). Congrats on three years! Oh my Leto, the whole “I’m two….. No, I’m three!” is stupidly adorable. NO WAIT even the Narrator just chuckled when doing the halfway “Fullmetal Alchemist” cards! Hurk!

Later that night, Winry’s talking about how she’s known the Elric Brothers for a long time, they’re like her brothers (well, maybe Al. NO I WILL NOT LET THIS SHIP GO). But they don’t talk to her, even when it’s clear things are bothering them. Hughes talks about how guys try to talk through actions rather than words, try not to burden others with their pain. But when a time comes that they do ask for help, Hughes knows that Winry will be there for them. As they finish talking, we get a sweet scene of some little boys asking to play with Elicia… and then arguing about who she wants to play with. Aw, quite the heartbreaker alre- Hughes put the gun down! Quieter actions Hughes, quieter actions! Next morning, Winry’s saying her goodbyes even as the family extend their hospitality. Elicia even huuuuuuurk nope nope too cute, clutching Winry’s sleeve. Hughes remarks that they could be sisters- [Elicia]: “Sissy! Be safe, ok? And come back and visit me real soon!”

At the hospital, Ed is shocked... to encounter milk with his food again. Al tries getting him to drink it, saying that he has “a living body that needs nourishment” (still thinking about Pudgy). Ed just offhandedly remarks that he won’t do it if he doesn’t want to, that he has grown some even if others, like Hughes and Winry who are arriving, keep calling him pipsqueak. [Ed]: “I wish I was like you, Al. You’ve got such a big body now.” [Al]: ”It’s not like I asked for this body, brother!” Oh jeez. It’s coming to a head. Ed starts apologizing, saying that he’ll get Al back in his real body soon. But Al’s not having any of it, yelling that Ed always says that, that he can’t believe anything when he’s stuck in this body, that memories are just scraps of information that can be made up as easily as anything else. Al thinks he knows now what Ed was afraid to tell him. That Al’s soul and memories are artificial constructions that Ed created. Ed slams his hands on the table. Then asks if Al’s finished talking. Then quietly gets up and walks out of the room. Al… Ed… WINRY! Hoo boy, Winry is pissed, smacking Al around with her wrench. I mean, Al did just accuse her, Granny, and Ed of lying to him. Oh. But she’s not upset about that. She’s upset because she knows what Ed was going to say: That he wanted to ask Al if he blames him for what happened to his body. Flashback to injured Ed at the Rockbell’s crying that Al lost his body, it’s all his fault. Al can’t eat, sleep, feel… how could he forgive the one who was supposed to protect him? Granny insists that Al doesn’t feel that way, that if Ed just asks he’ll know the truth. But Ed’s too afraid. Winry keeps striking Al, crying that even as Ed harbored those doubts, Al came and accused him of creating a fake brother just to control. And Winry ask who could do something like that, risk their life to create a fake brother. … That depends, Winry. To create a puppet? No one. To try and bring back what was lost, even if was ‘fake’? … moving on. For now, Winry orders Al to go after his brother. Up on the roof, Ed’s leaning on the railing, Al standing in the doorway. He goes to speak, but Ed cuts him off. [Ed]: “You know somethin', Al… We haven’t had a good fight in a while. I’m starting to get flabby.” The slippers come off. Ed charges, kicking and punching even as Al tells him to stop, that his wounds aren’t healed enough for a spar. Then, sheet to the face! While Al’s blinded, Ed knocks him down, declaring that he’s won. Hey, this would be the first match he’s ever beaten Al in, right? Even though Al argues that it wasn’t a fair fight. Heh. Ed reminisces on how they’ve fought since they were little, over some very stupid things. Like who got the top and bottom bunks? Um excuse you, who gets the top bunk is not stupid thank you very much. And don’t get me started on candy or toys. I’ve had to defend my stuff against a twin and a little brother, that is srus bizness!

[Al]: “We even fought over which one of us would marry Winry someday.” [Ed, panicked]: “What?! I don’t remember that one!” [Al]: “I won the fight… but she shot me down.” [Ed, nonchalant]: “Oh… did she?” Ed challenges Al to discount all those memories as lies, or his determination to regain his body. They’re in this together, remember? They’ll make themselves stronger, faster and better until they get their bodies back. Even if it means they have to drink the dreaded milk. *shudder* As the brothers fist-bump, Hughes and Winry look on from the doorway. (Please, please tell me she heard about their previous fights). Winry remarks that one doesn’t have to always hear something out loud, but it is helpful sometimes. Now, to put Ed back to bed and get some proper rest! [Strong Winds]? Heat-wave desert with a white flag? Oh hey, it’s Scar! [Scar]: “My brother…” Wait. What? Scar has a brother? Oh good grief. First we get the Slicer brothers, now we learn that Scar has/had a brother too?! I swear, and I thought RWBY was bad with sisters. Well anyways, not just his brother, Scar mentions his Master too, saying they’re all gone. Aftermath of the genocide? Sudden intruder! Hey, it’s Smiley/Kimblee, that guy who’s in jail now. He identifies himself as a State Alchemist send to exterminate the sector. He Transmutes from circles drawn on his hands- Scar wakes up, bandaged and under a blanket. A small red-eyed boy cheerfully notes he’s awake, and an older white-haired man tells Scar that he’s in a slum outside East City. Guessing they’re all Ishvalan? Little Kid says that Scar shouldn’t move, they found him floating in the sewers badly injured. Remembering his fight with the Goths, Scar asks if he still has his right arm and oh my gosh are you serious? We’ve already got the brother parallels, you really gonna make him lose an arm to be a more blatant counterpart to Ed? Oh, nevermind, he’s still got it. Lots of tattoos… gift from his family? Post-credits! [Narrator]: “A good friend became a comrade in arms, and over time his presence was taken for granted.” ...wait, what? “Although the future they once dreamed of became bleaker than they had ever imagined, this good friend was always there by his side, where he belonged.” Show. Show, no. NO. Stop implying what I think you’re implying! “Next time, on Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood-” OH SWEET LETO NO NO NO THAT WAS LUST’S SILHOUETTE NO NO NO Episode 10 - “Separate Destinations” “A friend whose presence comes as naturally as breathing can never be replaced.” NNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

#wmtw #where my twin watches #ranubis #full metal alchemist #full metal alchemist brotherhood #fmab #fmab 9

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pug-bitch · 5 years

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That’s not why I’m going (33)

Humidity’s rising

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and a VERY steamy scene. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18.

Word count: around 4,500 (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!)

Notes: This picks up pretty much where we left off, as the gang is ready to go to karaoke, starting with Drake’s POV. This chapter is mostly fluffy stuff, because we need it :D

*****

Drake steps into the Uber, closely following Amara, who’s now sitting between him and Maxwell. He squeezes her hand once they’re all buckled in.

‘Are you sure you’re ok, baby?’

She nods enthusiastically. ‘Yes, please don’t worry. I had an episode, it’s gone now, I want tonight to be fun!’

He nods and kisses her hand. Maxwell rubs Amara’s other arm. ‘You’re right, let’s have a fun time! So happy to be all together! But where are we going exactly?’

Amara chuckles. ‘We’re going to the bar where Drake and I went for karaoke once. It’s a cop bar, it’s quiet, we just have to look out for Bastien or even Ilya, but if they’re both not there we’re in the clear.’

Max cheers. ‘Woo! A bar full of hunky cops, I love it!’

Drake laughs heartily. ‘Max, most of them are not hot. I just wanna manage your expectations!’

‘Who knows! Look, Amara was a cop, and she’s hot as hell! Why wouldn’t these cops be sexy?’

Amara gloats, ‘Oh, well he’s not wrong, Walker. Some cops are very hot indeed. Ever seen Broadchurch? David Tennant can get it.’

Max gasps, ‘YES, he can. Every time he yells ‘Millah!’ I feel a tingle inside of me.’

Drake rubs the bridge of his nose. ‘That’s all great, guys. I really needed to know what makes Maxwell tingle.’

The Uber driver lets out a throaty laugh, and then realizes that he did that out loud. They all pause for a second, and resume laughing together.

*****

‘Finally! What took you bitches so long?’ Liv complains as Drake, Amara and Max get out of their Uber.

‘Relax, Liv, we’ve been here for two minutes!’ Hana chimes in.

Amara rolls her eyes, ‘Oh, two minutes? Poor Duchess Olivia, your time is sooo precious. Alright, let’s get in, and let’s have fun. Bertrand, I wanna hear your beautiful voice, ok?’

Bertrand blushes but smiles brightly. Amara can’t help but think they may have failed to include him enough in the past, but she’s determined to make it up to him.

They walk into the bar, and Amara scans the room for any known faces, which she notices Drake is doing too. But they looked everywhere, and there’s no sign of Bastien, Ilya, or any other members of the Royal Guard. Just regular uniformed cops at the end of their workday, relaxing with their buddies or spouses. Amara notices there’s a lot more women in here than there were last time, which is great for them. They will stick out less.

‘This is everything!’ Maxwell yelps. ‘How come I’ve never been here? It’s so cute! Those peanut bowls are so retro, I’m into it.’

Amara and Drake look at each other and laugh. Oh, Maxwell. What a treasure.

The six of them get a booth and Drake goes to the bar to order the first round. He knows Bruno at the bar, Amara remembers from last time, and Bruno makes strong drinks.

‘Maybe I should tell Drake to just get me a tea,’ Bertrand says nervously.

‘Bertrand! If you’re gonna sing, you need liquid courage!’ Hana says.

Bertrand shrugs and smiles. ‘Well, I suppose that’s true. I’m already two drinks in, though, maybe it’s too much.’

‘Live a little, babe,’ Liv says as she takes a flask out of her bra, handing it to a blushing Bertrand. ‘Have a sip. It won’t bite, it was just on my boob, not up my ass.’

Amara and Hana bite their lips in order not to laugh, as Bertrand reluctantly takes a swig from Liv’s boob flask.

‘I’m gonna go help Drake carry the drinks,’ Amara says.

She walks up to the bar, where Drake is chatting with Bruno while he’s making the drinks. ‘Hey ma’am,’ Bruno says. ‘I remember you. You sang Queen beautifully last time you were here with Drake.’

‘Oh hi Bruno! Nice to see you. It’s very nice of you to say, I was a little hammered, so I don’t remember much of that...performance.’

Bruno laughs, and serves Amara an extra shot of bourbon. ‘Bourbon, right? You’ll need it if you want to give another stellar performance. Lower your inhibitions.’

Amara laughs and downs the shot. ‘Thanks, Bruno. I’ll start a tab.’

He waves her off. ‘This one’s on the house. A friend of the Walkers’ is a friend of mine. And Drake already put his card down.’

‘Aw, thanks, Drake!’

They walk back to the table with drinks for everyone, a round a double shots of bourbon.

‘Ohh, guys, I’m tipsy just looking at these,’ Hana laughs.

‘Lee, stop it, or I’ll make you drink from my flask too,’ Liv threatens. Hana throws her hands up in defeat, and grabs a glass.

*****

A couple of rounds later, Maxwell gets up and goes up to the stage, under the cheers of a room full of cops. He does a little breakdance as he arrives on stage, provoking more excitement from the crowd. Amara gasps, nervous that he might fall on his face again. ‘Jeez, this man will break his neck just by being himself one day.’

Drake laughs, his hand around Amara’s shoulders. He’s feeling good. At home, even. He wishes his dad were here to see them all having fun together. He’d say, ‘See, Drake? You complain about the nobles, but you had to give some of them a chance. They’re not so bad.’

He looks at Amara. She’s smiling broadly, visibly happy to be here. Surprising in a way, since her past is still so painful. He was afraid, when they came here tonight, that the abundance of cops would trigger her anxiety again, but it seems like it’s doing just the opposite. Maybe she’s just enjoying the proximity to good memories, both from her past, and from one of their first dates. He enjoys seeing her like this.

Suddenly, Maxwell clears his throat in the microphone.

‘Hello, you gorgeous bunch of cops!’ The crowd cheers. ‘I’m Max and tonight, I’m gonna sing an amazing, deep song that means a lot to me. Hit it!’

He gestures to Louis, who is manning the karaoke machine. Louis shrugs, and presses a button. Maxwell closes his eyes and clutches the microphone dramatically. As soon as the opening notes start to play, Drake rolls his eyes. No he didn’t.

I threw a wish in the well,

Don’t ask me I’ll never tell,

I look to you as it fell,

And now you’re in my way!

The gang cannot stop laughing at Maxwell’s dramatic rendering of Call Me Maybe. Amara actually has tears in her eyes. Before the chorus, Maxwell shouts, ‘Little Blossom, come join me!’

Amara, without missing a beat, plants a kiss on Drake’s cheek, and runs to the stage to join Max. He wraps his arm around her and they both sing in unison.

Hey, I just met you

And this is crazy!

But here’s my number

So call me maybe

Drake can’t wipe the smile from his face. Here she is, his beautiful girlfriend --he’s never said this word to her before, but tonight, when they can be normal and hang out with their friends in public, it feels right-- singing with their best friend and having the time of her life. She points at Drake as she sings the next words:

Before you came into my life

I missed you so bad

I missed you so, so bad

Yeah, it’s a cheesy song, and the lyrics are so bad that they’re good, but he feels those lyrics on a deep level, which he would probably never confess to anyone unless he had a gun to his head. He definitely cannot remember one single good thing in his life before she showed up.

*****

Amara and Max get back to the booth, both out of breath and very smiley. Amara kisses Drake on the lips and asks, ‘Did you like it?’

He chuckles. ‘Yeah. You were amazing.’

Amara turns to Hana, ‘Babe, sing one! Come on, Max and I can even join you if you’d like!’

Hana giggles, visibly inebriated enough to say yes. ‘Alright, I suppose I can give it a try…’

She gets up and consults the list of songs that Louis is handing to her. Max turns to Drake and Bertrand, a self-satisfied look on his face. He says, ‘Gentlemen, I had an idea for a male-only number, are you with me, or are you not?’

Drake sighs, looks at Amara who is nodding furiously, and says to Maxwell, ‘Fine, I’m in.’

Bertrand, visibly altered by the contents of the boob flask, nods as well. ‘Sure, Maxxie, let’s do it. As long as I know the song.’

Max bites his lip. ‘Oh, you know the song.’

‘Shh, guys, Hana is on stage!’ Amara says excitedly.

Hana giggles into the microphone. ‘Hi all, I’m Hana. I’m not a good singer, so, I apologize in advance.’

Remember those walls I built

Well, baby, they're tumbling down

And they didn't even put up a fight

They didn't even make a sound

I found a way to let you win

But I never really had a doubt

Standing in the light of your halo

I got my angel now

Amara’s jaw drops. She knew that Hana was underselling herself by apologizing for her voice --after all, Hana is good at absolutely everything-- but she didn’t expect her to have the vocal range of Mariah Carey.

‘Fuck, guys, I have chills,’ Max says, his mouth wide open as well.

Liv exhales loudly, ‘Holy shit, Lee’s got pipes.’

Everywhere I'm looking now

I'm surrounded by your embrace

Baby, I can see your halo

You know you're my saving grace

You're everything I need and more

It's written all over your face

Baby, I can feel your halo

Pray it won't fade away

For the rest of the song, the whole room is silent, taking it all in and enjoying the melodious sound of Hana’s voice. When she finishes the last note, there’s a pause, and a massive round of applause. The gang cheers and screams her name.

She comes back to her booth, blushing. ‘Thanks, guys, I hope I was ok…’

‘OK??? Are you kidding me, Lee?’ Amara says excitedly. ‘You were Beyoncé level! That was glorious!’

Hana blushes some more, as Bruno makes his way to the table, holding a round of martinis. ‘Guys, this is on the house. Miss Hana, you were incredible. I’m speechless.’

‘Oh please,’ Hana says shyly, ‘it was just a little song.’

*****

Drake goes up to the stage reluctantly, following Max closely, not knowing what’s awaiting him. At least, Bertrand is on the same boat as him.

Maxwell whispers something in Louis’s ear, and the man immediately grins widely, which suggests to Drake that this is gonna be something else.

He recognizes the song immediately, and curses Maxwell under his breath. ‘Oh please, you love it,’ Max replies.

Drake looks to Amara, who’s looking more excited than she’s ever been, obviously recognizing the song as well. Maxwell gestures for Drake to open the song. He rolls his eyes.

You are my fire

The one desire

Believe when I say

I want it that way

He can’t believe he’s singing this in public, but judging from the look on Amara’s face, she’s thoroughly enjoying the moment, so to hell with this. He’s gonna have fun.

Then, the chorus comes, and all three of them sing in unison:

Tell me why

Ain't nothin' but a heartache

Tell me why

Ain't nothin' but a mistake

Tell me why

I never want to hear you say

I want it that way

Drake grabs the drink that Bruno is handing him, silently thanks his savior, and downs it in one go. He’s gonna need this liquid courage to finish the song.

*****

Amara can’t believe her eyes, or her ears, for that matter. Her Drake, willingly singing a Backstreet Boys song. If they weren’t in public, she’d jump his bones right now. But also, the very fact that he went with Maxwell’s wild suggestion without questioning it shows a lot of growth on Drake’s part. The Drake who came to NYC would NOT have gone for a boy band karaoke song.

She gets up and greets the three guys as they get off the stage. Drake opens his arms to her, and she wraps him in a warm hug. ‘That was hot,’ she whispers in his ear.

‘Oh, was it?’ he chuckles.

She nods. Now, a very tall and very muscular uniformed cop is starting to sing Rihanna’s We Found Love, and people are beginning to dance. Amara takes Drake’s hand and guides him to the makeshift dancefloor, where they grind on each other for a while, completely forgetting about the crowd around them. They don’t even notice that the music has changed, now a female cop has started to sing a Kings of Leon song. They keep dancing closer and closer to each other, Amara’s body pressed against Drake, and his hands on her hips, drawing her closer. Their foreheads rest against each other, as they try not to kiss, but the intimate position they are in leaves very little to the imagination.

He whispers, ‘You’re so fucking sexy.’

She runs her hands on his chest, then down on his stomach, almost reaching below his belt. She smirks.

‘Don’t tempt me, Suarez,’ he chuckles.

She’s aching to kiss him. No one is watching them, everyone is dancing to the music, and looking at the successive performers. ‘I want you,’ she whispers in his ear. ‘I don’t know that I can wait until we’re back at Ramsford.’

He bites his lip, his breath ragged. She knows he wants her too. ‘Fuck, Suarez, you make me so hard.’

She takes his hand and leads him to the corner where the bathrooms are.

‘Are you nuts?’ he laughs. ‘That’s a public restroom. Not a palace bathroom…’

She laughs and whispers, ‘We just won’t touch anything. Meet me in a minute.’

She gets in, her heart racing. She looks at her reflection in the mirror, notices that her eye makeup is smudged, in a way that makes it look like a smokey eye. Drake gets in, and locks the door behind them. Without a word, he places himself behind Amara, both of them facing the mirror. He throws his arms around her waist, and one of his hands reaches under her dress, and in her panties. He quickly finds her clit, and draws circles around it with his thumb. She gasps, her breath now uneven. She turns her head just enough to capture Drake’s lips in hers, kissing him more and more deeply as his fingers explore her soaking wet folds.

With her right hand, she reaches behind her, to undo his belt, and she sets his throbbing cock free. She wipes off his precum with her finger and rubs his length up and down, making him moan. He slides one more finger inside her, and she can’t wait any longer, she needs him inside her again. She shimmies out of her panties, and he lifts up her dress. She bends over a bit more, enough for Drake to find her entrance. He teases it with his cock, but her low groans don’t leave any doubt: she can’t wait. He needs to fuck her now. He enters her completely, making her gasp for air. She whispers, ‘Fuck me hard.’ He obliges. His thumb still on her clit, stroking it, caressing it, he fucks her harder and harder, deeper and deeper. Her walls contract around his cock, they pulsate, she can’t handle it anymore, she’s going to come. She hopes she can stay silent enough. His fingers are driving her crazy, her clit is throbbing under Drake’s hand. She feels his dick getting harder and harder inside her, and his breath is getting quicker against her neck. He kisses her ear a bit more urgently. She needs to try to hold on, she wants to come with him. She hopes he comes soon, she’s about to burst.

‘Amara…’ he whispers, his voice raspy. It sends her over the edge. Her body gives in, her knees buckle, she comes for him so hard, she knows he can feel it, her walls contracting all around him. He moans long and hard, and she feels him fill her with his cum. They both catch their breath.

‘Oh my God…’ she whispers. ‘That was… I’m still dizzy.’

‘I can’t breathe,’ he chuckles. ‘Wow. I should sing to you more often…’

*****

When they come back to the table, no one is paying attention to them, Hana, Bertrand and Maxwell being deep in a very giggly conversation. Only LIv is looking at them with a smirk on her face. ‘Did you horndogs just fuck in the bathroom?’ she asks.

Amara rolls her eyes. ‘Ew, Liv, who do you take us for? A bathroom in a cop bar? That’s insane.’

‘Yeah, Nevrakis,’ Drake chimes in, ‘we may be commoners, but we’re not peasants.’

Liv snorts. ‘You’re not actors either. You’re both very bad liars. I hope you washed your hands. Suarez, I have a mission for you.’

‘Oh?’ Amara says.

‘I’ve been told by Little Beaumont that if I don’t sing a song, I will be, and I quote, ‘a stupid ass loser’. As much as I don’t care what he thinks, I think it could be fun. Do you want to--’ she wrings her hands together, visibly in the position of asking for a favor for the first time of her life, ‘do you want to sing one with me?’

Amara squeals, ‘Yes! Yes, Liv, I’ll sing with you!’

‘Alright, calm your tits,’ Olivia says with a dismissive hand gesture, ‘I’m not asking you to have a quickie in the bathroom, it’s just one song.’

‘Charming,’ Amara replies. ‘Got a suggestion for the title?’

‘Yeah. I already talked to Louis over there. Let’s go!’

They hop on stage, Olivia looking fierce in her tight black pants, high heels and bright red blouse. Amara can’t help but feel like a teletubby next to her, in her bright yellow dress. She bursts out laughing when she realizes which song Liv has chosen. Soo off-brand, and yet so perfect.

Humidity’s rising, barometer's getting low

According to all sources, the street's the place to go

'Cause tonight for the first time

Just about half-past ten

For the first time in history

It's gonna start raining men

It's raining men, hallelujah, it's raining men, amen

I'm gonna go out to run and let myself get

Absolutely soaking wet

It's raining men, hallelujah

It's raining men, every specimen

Tall, blonde, dark and lean

Rough and tough and strong and mean

Amara looks at the crowd, and sees that the rest of the gang is standing up now, dancing to the rhythm. She winks at Drake.

*****

‘Aaaah, it was so FUN!’ Maxwell yells as he flops onto the couch, back at Ramsford. ‘That was such a good idea, Amara and Hana! We need to do it again.’

Liv takes off her heels and rubs her feet. ‘I’m as surprised as you guys, but believe it or not, I had a lot of fun! I can’t believe that Big Beaumont over here sang Backstreet Boys like a fucking champ!’ she says as she pats Bertrand’s back.

‘Ha!’ he says, ‘I blame your um… bosom flask, as you say. I’m afraid I’m a tad tipsy. I should put myself to bed. Ladies and gents, it was grand. Thank you for including me tonight, it was a breath of fresh air. I will see you all tomorrow for breakfast.’

Everyone wishes him a good night and he disappears up the stairs. As soon as he’s out of earshot, Amara whispers, ‘Did he just say ‘bosom’?’

Drake chuckles. ‘Nevrakis, how does it feel to have Bertrand talk about your bosom?’

She shrugs, ‘Everyone talks about my bosom, if you must know. It’s a glorious bosom. Not as glorious as Suarez’s, of course, but I do what I can.’

Amara fake curtsies, ‘I am humbled, Lady Nevrakis.’

Maxwell opens a small bottle of sparkling water. ‘So, now that we’re in private… are you gonna tell us everything, Olivia?’

Liv raises an eyebrow. ‘What do you mean?’

Max rolls his eyes. ‘Come on. We saw you on your phone all day. You were actually--’ he whispers, ‘smiling.’ He fake gasps.

Liv sighs. ‘You guys are the fucking worst. No one can have a private life around here, huh? Did you blab, Suarez?’

Amara shakes her head as fast as she can, afraid that Liv is packing some hidden weapons somewhere, near her flask or in her hair. ‘No! I promise I didn’t blab!’

‘It’s not that hard to figure it out,’ Max adds. ‘You’ve never been in a better mood and you’re texting all day. Amara is not the only one with detective skills, you know! Call me Agent Breakdance!’

Liv snorts. ‘I’ll call you Agent Break Your Nose, that’ll be more on brand.’ She takes a sip of water. ‘Alright, you bitches, you win. I was texting someone all day, and I went on a date on Monday night. Happy?’

Hana smiles broadly. ‘It’s wonderful, Olivia! Is he nice?’

Olivia makes a disgusted face. ‘Nice? That’s gross. He’s sexy, and fun, and he respects me.’

‘Well that’s the whole package, then,’ Amara says, stroking Drake’s hair, as he’s lying down on her lap, both snuggled on the couch.

‘Tell us who he is, Liv!’ Max pleads. ‘I’ll tell you anything you want in return. I’ll tell you everything there is to know about me.’

‘Beaumont,’ she says solemnly, ‘I want to know absolutely nothing about you.’ She takes another sip, visibly pleased with herself for the suspense she’s creating, blissfully unaware that everyone knows who he is. ‘Alright, it’s Domvallier.’

Max feigns surprise. ‘Ohhhh, I love that for you! And he’s hot as fuck.’

‘Yes, Liv,’ Hana chimes in, ‘he’s a very handsome man, and very stylish!’

Olivia nods, a small smile on her lips. ‘I may actually like him, so you clowns better not ruin it for me, ok?’

Max puts a hand on his chest. ‘Liv, we would never! Our lips are sealed. Plus, all our friends are in this very room, so we have no one else to tell.’

Drake sighs, and makes eye contact with Amara. He wonders whether he should tell Liv that Liam knows about the two of them. He doesn’t want to ruin the night. He wonders what it would accomplish to tell her. Probably nothing, right? But the five of them have made a point of being honest with one another, and that’s crucial. He can’t lose her trust, not now.

‘Liv, I gotta tell you something,’ he says. Amara’s eyes catch his, and she nods at him. He continues. ‘I hope you don’t freak out. But um… I think you deserve to have all the elements.’

Liv suddenly starts frowning, her uncharacteristic smile vanished. ‘What?’ she barks. ‘What is it?’

Drake sits up. ‘I saw Liam Monday night, he was back from the beach. He had texted you, remember?’

Liv’s face falls. ‘Yeah, I got a text from him asking if I want to meet him at the beach at midnight. I never responded, though.’

‘Well,’ Drake pursues, ‘He waited for you there anyways. He saw you and Rashad, and he knows there’s something between you two. He was very upset, and last I heard, he wanted to have a conversation with you to discuss what you want. He seemed to want to make a grand gesture, like an apology for taking you for granted.’

Liv purses her lips, visibly angry. ‘Oh, so Prince Liam wants to apologize, and as always, you’re his little lapdog, huh? His wingman? Like when you broke into Suarez’s room to drop off Liam’s note?’

Amara shakes her head, ‘Liv, that’s not what he’s saying. And that note was ages ago, before anything happened between us--’

‘Stop,’ Liv says. ‘Liam can give me any amount of attention he wants, I’m done with his pathetic ass. I know you fucking love him, Walker, and you think he’s the shit, but let me tell you, he’s never had any goddamn respect for me and my feelings, until he saw me exchanging sexts with another man.’ She stops and catches her breath. She suddenly looks very calm, as if she had just solved her own dilemma.

Drake puts his hands up. ‘I agree with you, Liv. I wasn’t pushing Liam onto you, I promise. Fuck, I think he’s been horrible to you, very manipulative, and you deserve so much better.’

‘Agreed,’ Liv spits. ‘I deserve the world. Liam is willing to give me what? A pity fuck and a dozen roses? Pathetic.’

‘Yeah!’ Max says angrily, obviously wanting to be part of the discussion. ‘Get it, girl!’

Drake nods, ‘Hey, I truly wasn’t telling you that you should be with Liam. I think Rashad is a very cool dude, and I can see the two of you getting along. Like you said, he respects you, and that’s what matters. Please, Nevrakis, don’t shoot the messenger. I was just telling you what I know, so you’re not blindsided when Liam comes to talk to you.’

Olivia nods angrily, visibly calming down a bit. ‘Yeah. I guess it’s good to know.’

Amara chimes in, ‘It doesn’t change the fact that Rashad is good for you. It’s unfortunate that Liam saw you, but it doesn’t change anything at the end of the day. That’s not what Drake meant at all. He was just giving you a heads up.’

Liv, still frowning, nods. ‘Ok. Fine. Sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. I’m just sick of Liam getting what he wants. It’s too little, too late. If he asks me, I’ll tell him the truth. I have no idea if Rashad and I are going anywhere, but he’s making me feel more appreciated than Liam ever has.’

Drake smiles and takes Amara’s hand, relieved that she understood him and what he was trying to do. He doesn’t blame Liv for snapping, though. He used to be what she said: Liam’s wingman whatever happened. Now, in the wake of finding out how forceful he could be, like he was with Amara, and how dismissive he was with Liv, he doesn’t know if he can ever really be in Liam’s corner again. Not like before, anyways.

Hana clears her throat and speaks the words of wisdom: ‘How about we all get some rest, huh? Olivia, we’re all very happy you’ve found someone you feel comfortable with, and none of us disagree with you being upfront with Liam. We all want you to be happy. Now go to bed and turn off your phone.’

Liv snorts, ‘Yes, mom.’

*****

Taglist:

@drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @jovialyouthmusic @andy-loves-corgis @emceesynonymroll @mariahschoices @drakesensworld @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs @drakewalkerisreal @alesana45 @nikkis1983 @simsvetements @iplaydrake @lily1999love @drakewalkerwhipped @drakxwalker @drakewalkerrosenberg @drakeswalkers @drakelover78 @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269 @sirbeepsalot @ladyangel70 @thisperfectmemory

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

#that's not why i'm going #dramara #drake x amara #drake walker x amara suarez #amara suarez #drake walker #drake x mc #drake walker x mc #drake walker trr #drake trr #trr drake #choices trr #trr fanfic #the royal romance fanfic #choices fanfiction #fanfic #gratuitous karaoke moment

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whenimgoodandready · 5 years

Text

Adrienette, Lukanette, Adrienette, Lukanette, Adrienette, Lukanette, Adrienette, Lukanette, Adrienette, Lukanette, Adrienette, Lukanette, Adrienette, Lukanette, ADRIENETTE! LUKANETTE! ADRIENETTE! LUKANETTE! IDK!? STOP BADGARING ME FANDOM!!! Even Marinette is indecisive about it! She’s just a dumb teenager who doesn’t know what she wants!..........does she?

*Desperada-Marinette and the girl squad were hangin’ out at Julekas house boat listening to Kitty Section rehearse and Marinette and Luka get cozy with each other. It also looks to be that the squad is starting to jump onboard with the Lukanette ship. Well, Adrienette isn’t goin’ anywhere so how much longer are they gonna support something that hasn’t even set sail yet!? Adrien and Kagami show up (having ditched fencing practice) and Marinette quickly leaves Lukas side to not give Adrien the impression she likes Luka. Oh, Marinette, what are we gonna do with you? She even says they’re “just friends” too🤨.

Jagged Stone arrives and he tries to get Juleka and Lukas mother back into the band cuz they had “history”. Oh! Thing is, he fired his guitarist, Vivica, and now he’s looking for a new one. Hmmmm, a new guitarist? Like, someone who knows rock n’ roll? And who’s young and talented? Marinette knows a guy like that! IIIIIIt’s Lu-Adrien!? Whomp! Whomp! Whomp! 🤦‍♀️. Marinette WTF!? Adrien is a classical pianist! I highly doubt he’s strummed a guitar! She knows damn well Luka is a better fit and yet she’s still trying to give Adrien hints she wants him! Okay, Marinette, I know how much you want Adrien, but you can’t just ignore talent when you see it from Luka.

Just then, Vivica shows up in her akumatized form calling herself Desperada! OOOOOH! So she’s that mysterious villainess I saw in “Gamer 2.0”! Well, thanks for the closure! (I’m talking to you person in charge of episode scheduling 😑). Desperada, I like that name, reminds me of a Rihanna song. Thing is, it’s more like a Western name and she didn’t really look “Western”. I mean, she kinda did with the whole musical skeleton make-up look, which is pretty cool, but nothing really “Wild Wild West” to me. It was more like something outta “The Book of Life” or “Coco” with that sugar skull thing. I’m a little fan of westerns where there’s a female outlaw that’s why. Her powers were using any instrument like a gun to capture people in her guitar case with a pic of them appearing on it as a sticker. Let’s just say if she wasn’t a musician, she’d make a bada** sniper!

Anyways, Desperada captures everyone except the love triangle kids and Ladybug is given the lucky charm to bring in extra help from Master Fu again using the snake miraculous! The snake miraculous!? OOOOOH! We saw who that was! (“Party Crasher”), some people in the fandom were right about it too! And now, ladies and gentlemen, the holder of the snake miraculous, (drum roll) Luk(trumpets begin to sound)-ADRIEN!? AGAIN!? (trumpets die out). WTF!? WHY!? Okay, I get it, he did save Luka when Desperada almost got him and as we know, Marinette/Ladybug doesn’t know Adriens Cat Noir, but still! Adrien agrees to it thinking he’ll win over Ladybug in a new superhero form since this time, she knows who he is and becomes “Aspik”...........(turns to the trumpeteers) you guys can sound I guess, (trumpets sound, but not enthusiastically). Okay, thank you.

So um, the snake miraculous is a bracelet of a snake swallowing itself, a Kwami snake like being named Sass (remember him from “Sandboy”!? He’s kinda like the leader of the Kwamies), a harp weapon and its power is “Second Chance” where they can go back a few minutes in time by turning the snake head on their bracelet back and it’s not a one hit power! It can go on as many times until the snake head gets to the end! It’s almost like Bunnyxs power except hers is more serious and can go back (and fourth) many times and it’s more fragile. Huh, I always thought the snake miraculouses power would be hypnotism, but I’m thinking too much “Jungle Book” here (what do snakes have to do with time travel!?). That’s cool! So it’s just Ladybug and Aspik vs. Desperada. It. went. TERRIBLE! Ladybug kept getting captured again and again and again and again and again AND AGAIN! And do you know why!? Cuz Aspik over here was too busy trying to woo Ladybug and not focusing on defeating the bad guy! That’s why!

ENOUGH! Adrien quits cuz he’s had it with being a f**king failure as it’s been 25,913 times! 25,913 TIMES!? 25,913 TIMES!? 25,913 TIMES!? 25,913 TIMES!? DAMN ADRIEN! YOU SUCK! Ladybug finally sees she’s wrong again! So Adrien suggests Luka take the miraculous instead. HALLELUJAH! Ladies and gentlemen, the real holder of the snake miraculous, Viperion, a.k.a. Luka Couffaine! (trumpets sound and end with a big finish!). Now this guy, this guy! Does a hell of a better job than “Aspik” did and it only took him a few tries! Humph!

I apologize for my wild outbursts there, I’m a very passionate writer and I speak what others are afraid to say. I’m like a voice for the people. I’m sure that’s what all of you were probably thinking way in the back of your heads there about the plot that occurred in the episode. I’ve settled down now and I’ll explain more. Ahem, first off, the girl squad are now leaning towards the Lukanette ship cuz they’re probably sick and tired of all the Adrienette nonsense and want something new. More importantly, they think this ship better since Marinette is more comfortable with Luka and how he’s more liberated than the sheltered Adrien. Fair point. The character Vivica/Desperada was based off a fan who won a contest at comic con and was originally supposed to be a veterinarian until they changed it to a guitarist (she looked so cute!). I heard about that, they also said she was supposed to be a fan of Cat Noir and was upset that he wasn’t getting as much recognition as Ladybug. It would’ve been nice cuz according to my Love Chart (which I legit have), nobody and I mean NOBODY likes Cat Noir, so cut him some slack and give him at least one fangirl! C’mon! Adrien failed at being the snake miraculous holder, but it’s not because he sucked (25,913 TIMES!? That’s like 3 months!), but it’s cuz there was no black cat hero to assist Ladybug! It was just Ladybug and Aspik and no Cat Noir! I thought they would’ve realized by now that they can’t defeat the villain unless it’s both of ‘em (plus a third or fourth party if necessary) to stop ‘em! Sure Ladybug defeated Style Queen by herself, but at least she had a “black cat” like someone there to help! It has to be Ladybug and Cat Noir! Good luck/Bad luck, Yin/Yang! That’s the idea! The reason why they didn’t see that was cuz they were both blinded by love! Marinette/Ladybug mostly picked Adrien to be the snake miraculous holder cuz she thought, “OMG! I’m gonna be fighting crime with my crush!” and Adrien/Cat Noir said yes cuz he thought, “Maybe she’ll love me this time if she knows who I am!” :P. Even Plagg thought it was a bad idea cuz he knew they needed Cat Noir and they weren’t even focused on Desperada and just trying to court each other! You’d think Marinette/Ladybug would’ve listened to her own words about Adrien being a distraction in her life (“Chameleon”). Speaking of courting, during one of Aspiks failed Second Chances, he confessed to Ladybug that he was Cat Noir (cuz she knows he’s Adrien as Aspik) and we only see a brief look of shock on her face before she’s captured again. Wonder what was quickly goin’ through her head at that point? Flashbacks of all her moments with him as himself and Cat and how she acted like both herselves in front of ‘em realizing how stupid she’s been? Lol! The shocks gonna be more wilder when it happens though and I’ll be there to see it. Ladybug really should’ve picked Luka first cuz at least he was bold enough to step in and distract Desperada to save Ladybug like he did as Viperion. Poor Adrien though, now he’s gonna think his Lady is too incompetent to be a hero. Well, not a “snake” hero at least, but a different animal hero if only she knew. The problem is Marinette is indecisive. She doesn’t know what she wants which is why she can’t choose between Adrien and Luka. Tikki and Kagami can see that and the latter even points out how Marinette needs to make up her mind already! Actually, according to the Season 3 canon episode order, this is actually the start of the mid episodes which means things won’t get more complicated ‘til the end. Especially when the last few episodes are more focused on the love issues. Currently, we’re dealing with plot right now, but we’ll eventually get there.

#miraculous ladybug #desperada #miraculous ladybug desperada

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buckitybarnes · 6 years

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Street Star: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Anon:“Hey lovely! I was wondering if you could do a request where the reader is a street singer and one day Bucky hears her and starts coming by every day because he is falling for her. And one day, she finally talks to him? Thank you, darl!”

Warnings/Themes: Fluff!! Profanity/humor. Mentions of prostitutes (It’s Vegas, fam).

Author’s Note: More fluff to prepare you for your death in Infinity War. Speaking of which, this will be my last upload for a few weeks (because, like I said, I’ll be dead). See you guys when I see you! And wish me luck watching this film.

Has not been checked for fluency errors/mistakes.

Song lyrics used are as follows: “Dead Sea” - The lumineers. “Let You Go” - Mahcine gun Kelly. “Can I be Him” - James Arthur.

Y/N = Your Name

Permanent:

@chamongangae @lovely-geek @glimmering-darling-dolly @badassbaker @geeksareunique @cameronskywalker @dottirose @httpmcrvel @ludwigs-a-monster @itstribute12 @iminlovewithasuperboy @not-reptilian @blacwings-and-bucky-barnes @thefridgeismybestie @whileinparis @part-time-patronus @lionheo04 @hottrashformarvel @buckybarnesappreciationsociety

Music is food for the soul.

Bucky scoffed at that saying. It reminds him of Shakespeare and that guy? Well, Bucky thought he was a real phony.

Music was nice and all, but it was silly to think anything more of it.

Oh, how he was wrong.

It starts off on a Monday night.

There’s a month-long intel mission he’s assigned to in Las Vegas, Nevada. At first, the flashy lights and raunchy showgirls overwhelmed him. He’d be embarrassed to admit how many times he flinched when a solicitor tried to shove a card into his hands. By now, his pockets were full of them. For some reason, he felt a little bad throwing them away. These guys worked hard after all.

Still, he hopes no one sees the cards.

It would be difficult to explain the prostitutes on there.

He exhales, tucking yet another “business” card into his coat pocket. It’s chilly tonight, and he decided to walk the streets for the hell of it.

It was a weekday, meaning he won’t be bombarded by a crowd of drunkards.

His eyes wander the Vegas strip as he saunters through, offering a shy smile to a few passerbys. Living statues occasionally catch his eye and a pink Cadillac zooms past. He raises an eyebrow in amusement when a group of girls stick their heads out the window to tell him that he looks pretty.

And then he hears you.

“I stood alone, upon the platform in vain

The puerto ricans they were playing me salsa in the rain

With open doors and manual locks

In fast food parking lots

I headed west, I was a man on the move

New York had lied to me, I needed the truth.”

His feet carry him across the street. The front of the ARIA hotel glimmers brightly, enveloping you in blue light. He swears that you look like an angel. It matches your voice.

“Oh, I need somebody, needed someone I could trust

I don't gamble, but if I did I would bet on us”

He can feel your emotions project through your voice. It was absolutely breathtaking.

You were sad and lonely. He can feel it and he can empathize.

Despite the small audience that you’ve gathered, your eyes focus elsewhere, your mind lost to a world far away.

He listens in a daze, standing before you in front of the crowd. He maps out your face, remembering every little detail. It’s instinct by now. He’s had to memorize people just in case they came back to haunt him in the future. It’s different with you, however.

He takes his time.

His watch vibrates, breaking him out of his ogling. It was time to head back to his room for mission prep. “Fuck,” he murmurs to himself, disappointed that he can’t watch the rest of your performance.

He reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a $5 bill, and tosses it into your guitar case. He can feel his heart skip as soon as you turn towards him. You nod in appreciation and give him the biggest smile as you strum and sing.

He shakily sighs and returns the kind expression.

He hopes to see you again.

It’s his luck that he finds you the next night at the same exact spot.

It may be apart of his imagination, but he swears that you light up with recognition as he approaches the crowd. He grins lightly, shoving his hands in his pockets to listen in on your singing.

It’s a bigger group tonight and he has to squeeze himself into the middle to see. You’re with a guy, who raps his part after you sing a chorus.

“Since you left, I've been holding onto a memory

Since you walked out that door, yeah

And you said I changed and you're so damn sick of me

You're not mine anymore, 2 3 4-”

The crowd bursts into cheers as the man next to you begins.

“Ayy, I still remember what you wore on the first night

Still remember how that black dress had your curves right

Still remember smokin' just to calm my nerves

'Til you had to leave and grabbed your purse, I grabbed first.”

Bucky can’t help himself but chuckle. He claps along when you gesture towards the crowd, pumping your fist in the air along with the beat. It’s absolutely adorable how much you’re into your performance.

When you reach the end, everyone (including Bucky) applauds enthusiastically.

He’s one of the last to leave, still standing awestruck by the mere sight of you.

“Hey, Pal. You’re gonna catch a fly with your mouth open like that,” you call out, gesturing towards your own lips.

He jumps a bit in shock, red creeping up his skin as he closes his mouth. “S-sorry, I just- You’re really good,” he replied, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

Your eyes grow bright with pride and joy. “Well, thank you! And thank you for coming back!”

“W-wait, you remember me from last night?” He feels stupid about the excitement in his voice. He’s never acted so flustered before.

“Of course I do! How could I forget such a handsome face?”

You bite back a giggle when you practically see his mind short-circuit. He’s a blushing mess as he looks anywhere but towards you.

“You- uh- geez.”

Fortunately, for him, his watch saves his ass. It rattles around his wrist, signaling that it’s time to depart yet again.

“I’m sorry, I gotta go.”

“It’s okay, me too.”

You turn and begin packing your bags but still feel his presence behind you. Normally, you’d be wary about lingering strangers, but this man didn’t seem like the rest of those sleazebags trying to get you into their beds.

“Something you need...uhh….?” You’re at a loss for words, looking up at him.

“Bucky,” he responds.

“Bucky.” You smile at the sound of it. It’s a funny name, you’d have to admit, but who are you to judge?

You offer him your own and he seems to relax quite a bit. Remembering why he was still standing around, he quickly fishes into his pocket and offers the money to you. “I wish I could give you more, but I left the rest at the hotel.”

When you cock an eyebrow, he begins to panic. “Thank you, but I don’t have any use for those,” you tease. He looks down in confusion and internally screams.

He’s accidentally pulled out a prostitution card. A lady with pasties on her breasts peeks out from the spaces between his fingers.

Oh my god, he’s going to die.

“Jesus- I’m so sorry! I thought I pulled out a ten!”

He tosses the card behind him and makes sure that he pulls out the right thing from his pocket. He drops his gaze as he tries to hand you the money. “I’m such a dumbass,” he grumbles to himself.

You let out a surprised laugh. You put your whole heart into it, genuinely amused at his antics. Accepting the money with a gracious smile, you shrug your shoulder. “See you around?”

“Tomorrow night?” he asks hopefully, stomping down the earlier sheepishness.

“Tomorrow night,” you confirm, patting his metal shoulder. He flinches for a second but then his muscles relax at your touch. “And you don’t have to give me so much, Bucky. A dollar is more than enough,” you assure.

For the next couple of weeks, Bucky walks the strip every night. And every night, he spots you in the same corner, entertaining a lovely crowd.

By this point, he’s completely enamored with you and he’s not sure why.

Clearly, you were just an ordinary street-performer, right?

Wrong.

You wear your heart on your sleeve every time you sing. He realizes that you choose specific songs that match how you were feeling or what you went through. It was like a secret code that only he noticed.

You never really cared what others thought about you. Some nights there was one audience member, other nights, there were about twenty. Either way, you still perform.

He wonders if you even do it for the money. At one point, he saw a homeless man stand in front of you, listening intently and clapping away. When you were finished, he apologized for not having any cash to give, but he wanted to thank her for making his day just a little brighter. As soon as you noticed the dirty backpack over his shoulders and the cardboard sign sticking out of it, you shake your head with a smile, telling him it’s more than alright. You thanked him for being there to listen and donated almost the entirety of what you earned that day.

That’s when Bucky knew that you were pure and beautiful on the inside and out.

When he rounds the corner on a Sunday night, you immediately wave at him mid-song, grinning widely. You don’t break your strumming, but you make sure to address him out loud despite the others around you. “Glad you could make it tonight,” you say.

It was meant to tease him. He’s seen you so often now.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he murmurs back.

You silently appreciate the crinkle of the skin near his eyes when he smiles and the dimples that come out of hiding beneath his tired expression.

“I heard there was someone but I know he don't deserve you

If you were mine I'd never let anyone hurt you, no, no

I wanna dry those tears, kiss those lips

It's all that I've been thinking about

'Cause a light came on when I heard that song and I want you to sing it again-”

Bucky’s breath hitches in his throat.

You’re making eye contact with him as you sing those words. Were you directing a message towards him or was this just for show?

He doesn’t even notice the crowd glancing between the both of you, holding back their ‘aaw’s and endearing laughter.

Clearly, there was something there.

“I swear that every word you sing, you wrote them for me

Like it was a private show, but I know you never saw me

When the lights come on and I'm on my own

Will you be there to sing it again?

Could I be the one you talk about in all your stories?”

Bucky Barnes swore that music is nothing more than a distraction to the ears.

You’ve taught him the opposite.

It’s more than that.

Music is the food of love. It can break the soul just as much as it can fix it. He feels himself healing from you, even if your conversations were short and he barely knew you at all.

He feels your kindness seep into his skin to show him that the world isn’t bad at all. He just had to be open to learning how to be happy. It was worth the risk. Even the little things like a blue sky or your beautiful smile can lift him up.

Bucky Barnes feels like he’s in love with you.

“Can I be the one

Can I be the one

Oh, can I, can I be him?”

As you pack up, he’s standing beside you. “You were wonderful tonight,” he says. It comes out softer than usual. His warm gaze never falters.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You zip up your case and stand tall, hands on your hips patiently.

As soon as Bucky reaches into his pockets, you stop him with a hand in the air. “If you keep giving me tens or twenties, Buck, you’re gonna be a broke man. Unless, of course, you’re a lucky gambler.” He can’t help but chortle in response, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t want to tell you that he had his ass handed to him at poker two hours ago.

“But you deserve it, if not more,” he argues.

You rock back and forth on your heels in contemplation. “Tell you what,” you start.

“Since you insist on spending so much money on me, why don’t you treat me to coffee or something? Or is it technically me treating you?”

Coffee.

In his mind, it sounds like a date.

What a dream come true.

“You don’t want dinner or something instead?” He bites his bottom lip, trying not to be so nervous. It’s been awhile since he’s gone out with anyone.

“I’m scamming you. I’d like our first date to be cheap so next time I can bribe you into taking me to a Gordon Ramsey restaurant,” you joke, grinning wickedly.

Bucky stumbles over his words, clearly affected by the notion of a ‘next time.’

When his watch vibrates, he groans to himself. He forgot about his stupid mission. What was he supposed to tell you now?

“Duty calls,” you say, pointing to his wrist. “We can go on your day off.”

“How’d you-” he scowls in confusion.

“Bucky Barnes, the man with the coolest metal-arm in town. How could I not recognize you?”

When he stiffens at your mention of his arm, you gently place a hand on it. He holds his breath, only for you to pat it in reassurance. “You’ve been my niece's favorite hero since she was five. She used to pull me to the TV all the time just to see your face. I kind of fell in love with you.”

It’s your turn to blush. “I mean- that sounds so creepy, don’t take that the wrong way. It’s not like I was stalking you- Geez, I should’ve told you I knew earlier. You must think I’m a real dork!”

He purses his lips, trying his best not to snicker at this revelation.

“Nah, it makes me more confident in asking you out, now that I know you’re so in love with me.”

“Oh my god. You shut your face, lover-boy. I see you running downhill just to come find me every night. Tell me you’re not in love with me too.”

“I can’t. It’d be a lie if I told you I wasn’t.”

In front of the hotel, he finds you absolutely beautiful. You shyly tuck a strand behind your ear as you talk to him.

The city lights have nothing on you. Your bright eyes and toothy grin blows him away.

He carries your guitar case for you, offering to walk you back home before he heads out on his mission. He watches you skip and twirl around to talk to him. Occasionally, he pulls you to the side to avoid a collision between you and a passerby.

Your bubbly chit-chat takes some weight off of him.

This was his little piece of happiness. You’re his little Street Star.

You are a sign from the universe telling him:

Stay.

#Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky x reader #reader insert #reader imagine #captain america #the winter soldier #the avengers #mcu #marvel #wolf writes #fluff #oneshot #writing #fanfic

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ice-tigress · 6 years

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Definitive Ranking of BDE in YOI

I couldn’t resist the urge to rank the characters of Yuri!!! On Ice in order of Big Dick Energy (BDE).

What makes me an expert in this topic, you might ask? Well, I just took this quiz and here is my result:

This was a challenging list to compile, because I am of the opinion that you can’t really have BDE if you’re *extra*. That’s not to say they are entirely mutually exclusive, but I found in my consideration of each character that levels of *extra* often indicated less BDE. And we know that a lot of these characters are preeeetty extra.

So, without further ado, click to view the rankings, beginning with the characters with the littlest metaphorical dicks:

25. Jean-Jacques Leroy

Calling yourself “the king”, skating to a song about yourself in competition, lower-back tattoo of your own initials, “It’s JJ Style!”... Sorry JJ, you have negative amounts of BDE. (For the record, I’m not a JJ hater. There’s nothing wrong with lacking BDE, although I know this is hard for JJ to hear from someone with 100% BDE...)

24. Michele Crispino

Mickey, your masculinity is too fragile. You definitely do not have BDE.

23. Kenjirou Minami

Although this darling boy does have his moments of awesome confidence, it’s too earnest to be the type of confidence that characterizes BDE. But look at that sweet face! He doesn’t even need it.

22. Georgi Popovich

There are moments off the ice when Georgi seems so much more laid back, but if we never saw that, he’d probably be below even JJ on this list. I mean, look at this picture. There is no BDE within 100 kilometers of that smokey eye.

21. Viktor Nikiforov

Who needs BDE when you have all these gold medals? Too extra. Next!

20. Guang-Hong Ji

On the one hand, the whole assassin theme for his short program was pretty cool. On the other, sometimes a gun is just overcompensating for something (metaphorically speaking). Sorry Guang-Hong, you just don’t got it.

19. Yakov Feltsman

Yakov’s energy is decidedly not of the Big Dick variety.

18. Yuri Plisetsky

Like his coach, Yuri yells too much. And he’s always trying too hard. That being said, I think there’s BDE potential here, once he’s matured, especially if he can still pull off all that leopard print without too much effort.

17. Seung Gil Lee

Seung Gil puts too much energy into doing mental math and being stand-offish to have BDE.

16. Yuuko Nishigori

Yuuko’s excitement and spontaneous nosebleeds do not suggest much BDE.

15. Christophe Giacometti

Like Georgi, Christophe’s inner monologues on the ice have absolutely disqualified him from having BDE, despite a more down-to-earth demeanor when wearing those round, bookish glasses. He makes it this high on the list due to his quietly confident approach to skating, trusting his ability to come back in the free skate (whether or not this strategy pans out).

14. Celestino Cialdini

Ciao Ciao rocks this sick 80s hair, but it’s also his BDE downfall. Not to mention the drunken antics. Close, but no cigar.

13. Yuuri Katsuki

Yuuri’s performance anxiety threatens to outshine his natural BDE, but when it counts, he pulls through. Congrats, Yuuri! You have BDE!

12. Emil Nekola

Emil's patience, hard work, determination, and positivity is a perfect recipe for BDE.

11. Phichit Chulanont

Sociable, popular, with a strong social media presence and perfectly subtle eyeliner, even Phichit’s hamster obsession supports his BDE. He knows how to work his angles to maximize the size of his metaphorical dick.

10. Minako Okukawa

Like Viktor and Yuuko, Minako shows that she can be excitable and extra, but I can’t help but read some amount of intentional irony behind many of her actions. It’s almost as if she does certain things (like greet Yuuri at the train station with a giant banner) to lovingly embarrass him. What convinces me of Minako’s BDE is her discipline and tell-it-like-it-is attitude. Plus, she gave Yuuri the confidence that led to the development of his own BDE. She’s a BDE Sensei.

9. Isabella Yang

Bella uses her BDE to support (and probably to put up with) her fiancé JJ. She readily and enthusiastically cheers for him in his greatest time of need in front of thousands of people. Opposites attract!

8. Mila Babicheva

Mila’s got that effortless cool that most of us can only dream of. Even with all of the over-the-top male figure skaters and their dramatic shenanigans that she inevitably puts up with on a regular basis, Mila usually responds with a quip and a smirk. She’s got the kind of BDE that gives her a quick wit and the patience of a saint.

7. Takeshi Nishigori

Takeshi is a DILF with BDE. He is such a good friend to Yuuri, supporting him through his exercise-and-weight-loss montage and calling to apologize about the viral video incident. His teasing (at least now as an adult) is a testament to the strength of his friendship with Yuuri, and their trust in one another shows how far they’ve come since they were kids. I find Takeshi really compelling for the same reasons that I’m certain of his BDE.

6. Sara Crispino

Sara is kind and friendly, and she has the confidence to ask for what she wants. She also isn’t afraid to take risks and make tough decisions in order to do the right thing, even when it means standing up to someone she loves. That takes BDE!

5. Lilia Baranovskaya

This no-nonsense ballerina will not put up with your shit. She even manages to wrangle Yuri and Yakov. This woman is full of wisdom, strength, and BDE.

4. Mari Katsuki

Smoking is bad for you, but Mari doesn’t give a fuck. Look at that style, the hair, her expression. She’s just so cool! But she’s not afraid to show emotion, either. Mari is excited by Yuri when he arrives at the onsen, she’s supportive of her brother, and she is unabashedly attracted to Chris. Her ability to shift from one dynamic to another is why I think she’s got a ton of BDE. But also, just look at her. She’s so cool.

3. Otabek Altin

Although one might argue that, despite appearances, Otabek’s actions in Barcelona were pretty damn extra, that doesn’t change the fact that his energy is calm, cool, and effortlessly badass. It’s the kind of BDE that Yuri is trying to achieve. Otabek has so much BDE, it still comes naturally even when he’s doing things that are maybe a bit try-hard. That’s why he makes the top three.

2. Leo de la Iglesia

Charming, charismatic, handsome Leo has the passion and soulful eyes of someone with an endless supply of BDE. I also think it’s significant that he is a Mexican-American representing the United of America on the world stage, which is especially impressive if Trump exists in the YOI-verse.

1. Axel, Lutz, and Loop Nishigori

Just one of these triplets alone has more BDE than all of the other characters on this list combined.

Bonus: I’m pretty sure there isn’t a single poodle on Earth that has BDE. Sorry, Makkachin and Vicchan. But with a name like Puma Tiger Scorpion, you know that Potya has enough BDE for all the pets of YOI.

#Yuri on ice #yoi #bde #big dick energy #Yuri!!! on Ice

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