#like someone who had only ever seen me once and never really spoken to me called me he and guy

[thefleshyougoveggie]

getting correctly gendered by someone who doesn’t even know you’re trans is so euphoric to me

#like someone who had only ever seen me once and never really spoken to me called me he and guy #and it made me so happy #like yes!! i am a he!! and i am a guy!! thanks for acknowledging that #i’m not a guy in the traditional sense per se #and i don’t like being called a man #but just a little guy… that’s definitely me #and idk since i’m pretty dysphoric about how i’m perceived and i fairly often just assume ppl assume i’m a woman #it was so refreshing that someone just… proved me wrong about that!! #even after i had spoken a few words he still used he! not sure how much he heard but STILL #whenever someone hears my voice they tend to misgender me #and idk maybe it was bc he might’ve not heard a lot but… still #idk it’s a small victory and it just made me happy and euphoric #trans #transgender #transmasc #nonbinary #lgbtq #queer #atlas the thinker #personal

[fairydustblossom]

encroaching promises

azriel x reader

summary: based on this request "I would love if you wrote something where Azriel was a dick and he has to GROVEL. (Angst feeds my soul) please and thank you."

category: angst (i just rly love it)

word count: 4.8k

warnings: slightly nsfw in some parts, emotional (not physical) disloyalty ?? maybe ?? kinda ??

notes: umm this was so fun to write! it came to me so fast like I didn't even have to edit it?? hopefully it's good lmao anways i hope you enjoy this @liddyr03, thank you for sending in a request!!

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Something had shifted between you and Azriel. It had been a gradual shift, one you had felt coming on for some time- but you could have never expected the reason for the growing distance between you and your mate.

He had been working longer hours, waking up earlier, barely spending any free time with you and you knew the middle Archeron sister had a part in it. You had tried to ignore it, their growing closer. Azriel had taken a liking to her. At first, your heart had warmed at Azriel’s willingness to help. There had not been many opportunities in his life where he could help someone directly, not just in a battlefield or in an interrogation room. You witnessed the impact it had on him, you could feel his inner peace, the way he viewed himself, his self worth improving- and you were proud of him. You really were happy that Azriel was finally seeing himself in a way you had always seen him. You believed in kindness, in helping others, in going above and beyond for someone in need, you had always preached it to Azriel. It had been one of the things that had drawn him to you, seeing in you traits he wanted to possess. But now, it had gone too far. 

You had noticed Elain and Azriel growing closer and closer. You had pushed your wariness aside, opting to be kind to her, hoping to help her in the way Azriel was doing so. Maybe she could be a good friend to you both, you thought. But Elain had not been as welcoming to your helping hand. Instead, she had treated you as she had treated all other fae, like you were a monster, personally responsible for her family's misfortune.

You tried time and time again to be graceful, to brush off her rudeness. You chose to be understanding, to put yourself in her shoes. But still, she treated you poorly. When you would join Azriel in visiting her, you noticed the difference in treatment. How she would look at him, and how she would look at you, like you had something she wanted. 

Eventually, you stopped joining Azriel in his visits, finding it hard to control your feelings of jealousy and not wanting to come across as an irrational possessive mate. He was only helping her get better, you told yourself.

After you stopped going together, you noticed how his visits grew longer and longer. The longer he would be there, the more you would question it. What are they doing? Why is she keeping him there? Is it him that wants to stay longer?

The questions would run through your head until the moment he would walk into your shared chambers. You would lay your eyes upon your tired mate, but you would catch the gleam in his eyes, happy with himself for doing some good for once, and you would push aside all jealousy. How could you ever doubt your mate? The very same male that had worshiped you for years, that had vowed his undying love to you, who was bound to your soul. And so you would welcome him home with open arms, letting him fall to bed, little words spoken of his day.

It kept on like this, for months, till a whole year had passed and you no longer recognized your relationship with Azriel. You barely spoke anymore, going through your established routines around each other in silence. What had once brought you so much comfort, now left you fretting that something had irrevocably changed. You knew next to nothing about what Azriel was thinking, of where he spent his days, although you had a good idea of who he spent them with. You who had once been his closest confidant, wrapped in his arms till late hours of the night, whispering every thought that crossed through your minds to each other. You were barely having any sex. What used to be almost a daily activity, was now a hurried fuck in the dark, taking no time to explore one another's bodies, only looking for a quick release. You hadn’t actually seen your mate’s body in months. Had Azriel finally had enough of yours after all this time?

Elain’s smell had practically been imprinted on him. You never smelled any sex, no, and you thought, no you hoped, that Azriel would never do that. But it hurt all the same when you could smell her on his clothing, for that only happened when a fae was around all the time. 

You had decided to take matters into your own hands. You were waiting for Azriel to come home, wearing his favorite silk slip that you had surprised him with on the night of your mating ceremony. Determination drove you- you would not let him go to bed without first feeling satiated. 

And so you waited, your belly fluttering with parts equal nerves and excitement. You were excited because you knew your mate would melt at the sight of you, and love on you like you were accustomed to. You felt maybe all you and Azriel needed was one night to destress, to reconnect and everything would be back to normal. 

When Azrile came home, his eyes immediately darkened at the sight of you, he recognized the slip you were wearing, images of your mating ceremony flashing through his mind. He was overcome with need for you and it only took a matter of minutes before you were pressed up against the wall, lost in a hungry kiss. You sent all your excitement down the bond and he groaned into the kiss, sending his desire right back. You were elated, nothing pleased you more than the feeling of Azriel against you and feeling the bond thrumming with need.

Azriel was quick to pick you up and carry you to your shared bedroom, tossing you on the bed. You sat up on your knees, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting to slow this down a bit. You could feel how badly he wanted you, not only through the bond but by the bulge pressing into your flushed bodies. The mother knew you wanted him just as badly, and any other time you would have given into your needs in a desperate attempt to chase the release you were craving. But you wanted to take him in, wanting to drag this out as long as possible, to drink in the sight of his glorious body that your eyes had been deprived of. 

You pressed your forehead against his, willing your breath to calm down. Azriel pulled his head back a bit, brows furrowing slightly and a look of confusion overtaking his eyes, “You alright, love?” a wave of worry flowed down the bond, his hands roamed your body, bringing you comfort and spreading warmth all over. 

You flushed slightly, butterflies erupting in your belly at hearing the pet name. Your ears perked, not having heard the endearment in so many months. Gods, you had missed him. You smiled shyly at him, and gave him a slight nod. Azriel felt his knees buck, so many years later and a single look from you could make him feel like the inexperienced younglin he used to be back at the camps. You looked so so lovely in that slip, the shy look you gave him, eyes shining with love, and the pink tint on your cheeks he had elicited all warmed his heart. He brought a hand up to your face, moving a stray piece of hair behind your ear, resting his hand at the base of your jaw all while staring intently into your eyes. When he saw your cheeks flush a darker red, he gave you a charming grin, amused and delighted by the sudden shyness in you. He loved that he still had that effect on you, as if you were meeting for the first time.

“I’m alright Az, just taking you in” you murmured, your voice sounding like honey to his ears. 

“You can take me in all you want Y/N, I’m all yours to look at” he murmured back, dipping down to place warm loving kisses on your neck. You were delighted by his words, breathing him in deeply, relishing in the smell of his arousal. You felt delirious and giddy all at once, yes, you thought, all mine. Wishing to remind him, you sent the possessiveness you were feeling down the bond, making Azriel growl and nip at your neck more feverishly, marking you as his. He loved when you claimed him just as much as claiming you, feeling lucky to have someone in his life that wanted him as badly as he had always wanted.

The feeling of Azriel’s nipping and sucking your neck urged you on to keep undressing him. Undoing all the clasps you had started unfurling downstairs, you removed the tight fitting top of his leathers. You ran your hands along his arms, taking pleasure in the warmth of his bare skin against your fingertips. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, trailing your gaze up his tattooed arms, to his chest, hands sliding along- when your eyes snagged on something just below his pec and you halted all your movements. Azriel buried in your neck still, stopped as well, feeling you tense up. You pulled back, taking a good look at what your eyes had seen. It was a tattoo. One you hadn’t seen before. 

Your heart sank, hurt overpowering any feeling of desire you had been feeling. The unexpectedness of the moment had left you vulnerable, leaving your side of the bond wide open for Azriel to feel the sudden shift in your emotions. He froze, suddenly panicked at why you were hurting and he pulled back, grasping your arms and holding you at arms length. He tried meeting your eyes, noticing they were locked in on his torso. When he looked down he saw what you were staring at. 

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the rose shaped tattoo resting on his right rib. You didn't know what it meant, but you had a feeling you knew what, or rather who, had been the cause of it. You thought of Elain and her precious garden. You thought of Elain and her treasured white roses. You couldn’t fight the tears that lined your eyes and you moved out of Azriel’s grasp to the other side of the room, wanting to be as far away from him as possible. 

Azriel felt his heart sink at the way you fled his touch, as if he had burned you. He saw the look in your eyes and felt his that his world was crashing down.

“What is that Azriel?” you asked, struggling to conceal the wobble in your voice, not actually wanting to hear the truth you already knew.

He swallowed the lump in his throat, looking down at the tattoo your gaze hadn’t drifted from and then looked back up at you. Forcing himself to look at you, even if it made him feel like the biggest dickhead.

“It’s… It’s a promise” he said, wishing he didn’t have to tell you and see the betrayal in your eyes. He had been avoiding this conversation, feeling disgusted at himself for having made the promise in a lapse of judgment.

He saw the fire ignite in your eyes, anger rising at his answer. You already knew it was a promise, and he was aware you wanted more of an explanation. He only hoped you could forgive him, for he did not know if he could forgive you if it were the other way around. Shame creeped up his spine and he mustered up the courage to confess his mistake. He had barely been able to look at himself since the tattoo had seared itself onto his skin and he had opted to ignore it all together- to pretend it wasn’t there. Azriel had done so much pretending, that the tattoo had been fully forgotten moments earlier when he had welcomed and encouraged you to look upon him.

At your lack of response, he cleared his throat and carried on, praying to the mother in his head, for he knew he was about to hurt you and he would hate himself for having caused you pain, “I made a promise. I-I made a promise to Elain.”

You looked up at him then, and the pain he saw in your eyes made him feel sick to his stomach, knowing he has caused it. “Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean to-”

You cut him off, your voice terrifyingly low “What did you promise her Azriel?” 

His cheeks were red and his body felt hot with shame as he replied, “I promised I would always be there to protect her.” 

His words, uttered barely above a whisper, felt like daggers to your heart. You flinched, unable to conceal the effect they had on you. The tears broke free, you managed to hold in your sobs by biting the inside of your cheeks, but you couldn’t hold back the tears. You were biting so hard you tasted blood, and the world felt like it was spinning. You couldn’t find any words, there was nothing to say. He had promised her something he was supposed to only ever promise you.

“I fucked up. I know I did, I’ve been working out a way to undo it.” He started to plead, taking a few steps to close the distance between you. You stepped away, not letting him get near, barely hearing his words over the rushing sound in your ears. “Rhys and Feyre have been helping me find a way to break it. We actually know how, the same way they broke their deal from under the mountain, we just need Elain to-”

You were done listening to him, his words only adding to the hurt you were feeling. Rhys and Feyre knew your mate had promised his protection to another? Did everyone know? Why hadn’t he told you? 

“Leave” you hissed at him. You didn’t care to hear his excuses, you were done. Never would you have ever spent so much time with another male, never would you have ever made such an intimate promise. 

“What?” he asked. He had been expecting you to react this way, for months he had been mentally preparing himself. But to hear you actually say it still caught him off guard. “Y/N, please, I can expl-”

“Leave” you said again, your voice strengthening with conviction. “Get out of my home, Azriel.” You felt if Azriel stayed any longer you would go mad, and you meant your words. This was not a home anymore, not with him in it. He had bound his soul to another, and kept it from you. If he remained here any longer, you don’t know what you would do. You could feel your power thrumming in your veins, begging for release. 

Azrile looked heartbroken, like a man that had lost everything he cared about in this world. He pleaded with his eyes, pushing everything he was feeling down the bond, hoping you would take back his words. When you only looked away as a response, he knew he had to respect your wishes. It pained him unlike anything else to leave you alone after the damage he had caused but he understood there was nothing he could do at that moment to make it better. He steeled himself, calling all his shadows to him, fighting with the ones that were wrapped around you trying to comfort you, and then he vanished.

You broke down when Azriel left, letting the pain of your failed relationship consume you. The image of the rose tattoo was all you could see behind your eyes and you ran to the bathroom to release the bile that had risen up your throat. You sat there on the floor, picturing all the interactions you had witnessed between Azriel and Elain. You could have prevented this, you couldn’t help but think, if you had only stepped in sooner. If you had only kept that girl away from your mate. If you had only shown her anything other than kindness. You had in a sense, lost your mate to another woman. For how could he spend his days with you when he promised to protect another for the rest of her days?

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Azriel knew he had to fix this. He honestly had already been trying to, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of the promise he had made Elain. A promise that she had coerced him into. But to be rid of it, she had to be in agreement. Rhys and Feyre had helped him contact Helion and that is what he had told them. The High Lord of day had also told them it would cause great pain, which Elain had grasped onto in her refusal to break the promise. She argued she had been through enough in the past years to willingly put herself through more pain.

Azriel blamed himself, really. For letting Elain get so close to him, for having been there at her beck and call to the point she expected, no demanded, that treatment from him all the time. He had spent the last few months attempting to convince Elain to go through with breaking the promise. He was doing everything he could for her, hoping if he did enough she would come to her senses and consent to Helion’s spell. 

He kept telling himself she was only holding on to this because she had lost everything else in her life, it made her feel that she was finally in control of something- that she didn’t mean his beloved any harm. But Azriel had come to the realization that whether Elain meant to hurt others or not with her actions- she was being selfish with them. He was devoted to you and he would not let Elain cost him what he prized so dearly in his life. His mate, he kept thinking, he would not lose his mate.

Rhys and Feyre were curled against one another in the living room when Azriel winnowed in, looking distraught, wings drooped, and frantic shadows dispersing around the room- swallowing all light. He dropped down to his knees, tears lining his eyes as he looked up at his High Lord and High Lady. They were instantly alarmed, Rhys dropping to the floor to join his brother while Feyra went to Azriel’s side. Rhys grabbed Azriel’s face in his hands, quickly assessing him for any injuries, he tried peeking into Azriel’s mind and only saw your pained expression. Azriel dropped his head on his brother's shoulder, looking like a fallen angel, and he cried. “Please help me. Please, brother”.

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For the next few weeks, you had isolated yourself- putting wards around the house to prevent any of your family from winnowing in. You had felt each of them attempt to come in, to console you, but you refused to let them in.

You couldn’t forgive them, at least not anytime soon, for having kept this from you. You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know how long ago the promise had been made, you didn’t know how long they had known- all the interactions you had with your family since the time Elain came were now painted in a different light in your mind. Had they all thought you a fool? To let your mate get so close to another female, when Elains affections for Azriel had so clearly been written on her face? You couldn’t bear to face them, knowing they had kept this from you. 

You had also distanced yourself because you weren’t sure of what you would do if you came across Elain. Your territorial feelings had only been enhanced and you were scared of what you would do to your High Lady’s older sister if you saw her.

Azriel had tried almost everyday to talk to you, but you remained firm in your decision, refusing to yield to his pleas. You had received countless notes from Rhys, the only one who could get past your wards, and had burned them all. Until the latest one. You had been reading when a note appeared on the page you were on. Unlike the other ones, this one did not come to you unfolded so you had no option but to read the words they said.  “It is done. Azriel is recovering in the infirmary.” The note raised your heartbeat and caused dozens of questions to rise within you. Suddenly Azriel’s absence the past few days made sense. He had been resolute everyday since you had kicked him out in gaining your forgiveness, staying outside the door to your home waiting for the day you would let him back in. He hadn’t pushed or attempted to break through your wards, and you knew he could, he was the spymaster after all; instead, he had patiently waited, accepting his punishment. Every night, for weeks he had waited, until a few days ago, when he had disappeared and hadn’t come back. You figured he had gotten tired, or given up- you were still too hurt to find out why he had left. 

Now, worry filled you. Was he okay? What did Rhys mean by “recovering”? You recalled the time Rhys and Feyre had faked breaking their bond, fooling everyone by breaking the promise they had made instead- you remembered their shouts of pain, and that was the High Lord and the High Lady, the two most powerful fae in all of Prythian. 

You quickly stood up, pacing around the room, trying to decide what to do. Deep down you knew even if you didn’t go right now, adamant in your stubbornness, worry would eat you and thoughts of Azriel would consume you. Acknowledging you wouldn’t be able to go an hour without knowing, you made your decision and winnowed to the infirmary.

When you arrived, the sight of Azriel made you gasp. He looked awful. You could see the stark dark circles under his eyes, his ruffled hair, the pain expression etched on his face even as he slept. He looked thinner too, as if he hadn’t been eating well- he hadn’t, you learned later on, too sick at his own actions to feel any appetite at all.

You rushed to his side, grasping one of his hands, they felt cold, almost lifeless, and you reached deep within to the bond that tethered your soul to his, the bond you had buried deep down within you and ignored for weeks. You sighed with relief when you found it and tugged on it. He was still there you could feel, but the bond was dulled, as if life had been sucked out of it. 

You burst into tears, never having imagined that the beautiful bond you cherished would ever be in such a weak state. This feeling you had feared, the feeling of Azriel fighting for his life, of barely being there overwhelmed you.

You cried for him, for your love, for everything that had happened until your throat felt hoarse and the tears wouldn’t come anymore. You had sat there by his side for hours, squeezing his hand and murmuring his name over and over, tugging at the bleak bond, willing it to go back to normal. 

All night you spent by his side, the sun was now rising over the mountains of Velaris when you felt a hand land on your shoulder. It was firm and gentle- Rhys. You didn’t look up at him, your head pressed against Azriel’s hand, cradled within your own. When your tears had dried you had resorted to praying to the mother, you were convinced if you prayed enough he would be okay and you wouldn’t let anything interrupt the prayers that tumbled out of you. 

“Y/N” Rhys mumbled, sitting down next to you, arm now wrapped around you. “He’s going to be okay.” 

When he realized you would not acknowledge him until you felt satisfied with your orison, Rhys pulled you into a hug, waiting for you to finish. He does not know how long he sat there next to you, only that the sun was now high up in the sky. You slumped against him, still not letting go of Azriel's hand and started crying again. “You knew” he heard you say, and he felt a pang in his chest. He realized now that not only had you been hurt by Azriel, but he had hurt you as well. 

He nodded, “I’m sorry for keeping it from you.” He said “I was only doing what I thought best. I will let Azriel explain everything when he wakes up, I want you to hear it all from him. But just know I am sorry” 

He felt your body shake more violently at the mention of Azriel. “What if he doesn’t wake up?” you asked, voice small and filled with agony. 

“He will, Y/N. He will.” He pulled you away to look in your eyes, making sure you were taking in his words. “Madja and Helion have both guaranteed that he will wake up, his body just needs to heal.” 

You nodded, calming down slightly at his words. “How long has he been here?”

At this, he looked down, embarrassed to tell you he had kept yet another thing from you in hopes that Azriel could go to you himself and tell you he had gotten rid of the promise. “He has been here a few days, I-I didn’t take it would take long for him to wake up. I wanted him to be able to tell you.”

You only nodded, having already guessed as much, piecing together Azriel’s absence outside your door with his unconscious body. Later, you would give Rhys hell for keeping it from you, but currently you had no energy to fight. You leaned into his hug further, needing the comfort he provided and resigned yourself to waiting. 

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It took three more days for Azriel to wake up, Rhys had briefly explained that the impact had been greater than it should have been because they had manipulated Elain into consenting to break the promise instead of her going willingly into it. You could feel the anger Rhys felt towards his sister in law as he explained- making sure you understood they had coerced her in a way not too unlike how she had done to Azriel when he made the promise. Your anger towards Azriel had diminished, you still wanted to hear what he had to say, but you were ready to forgive him. All you wanted was for him to wake up.

You were sitting next to Azriel, head nodding off in sleep. After almost four days of little to no  sleep, you were struggling to fight it off. Your eyes had fully shut and you could feel yourself drifting when you felt the hand you were holding twitch.

Immediately you gasped and sat up, watching with wide eyes as Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed. He seemed to battle with himself to wake up and once he finally did you stood up grabbing a cup of water for him. He looked at you with daze eyes and croaked out, “I’m sorry”

Your heart melted, his voice was barely there and you shushed him, raising the cup to his lips, urging him to drink some water. He gulped down the water you offered, pulling back to catch his breath, then he looked at you again, eyes filled with sorrow before he whispered again “I’m so sorry, my love”

You only nodded, too overwhelmed with emotion to form any words. Instead, you pushed everything you were feeling down the bond and in return Azriel poured all of his love. You could feel how sorry he was, his love for you, his sadness. His eyes watered at feeling the bond thrumming again, he had been convinced he would never feel it again and he thanked the mother for blessing him with such an amazing mate.

 “I’m sorry, I’m sorry” he kept mumbling, groggy from his week-long slumber and unable to form any other coherent sentences. 

You shushed him and cradled his face to your body, peppering his face with kisses wanting to convey how grateful you were for your mate. You stayed there, curled up against him the rest of the night, letting him know how much you loved him, your mate, who had risked his life to make things right. 

“I would do it again, for you, I would do anything” he murmured, head tucked in the crook of your neck, before drifting off into sleep again.

#azriel #fairydustblossom #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel angst

[jgracie]

SAY YES TO HEAVEN — PERCY + DAUGHTER OF ZEUS

masterlist | rules

❝ hiii can i ask for a percy and daughter of zeus hc but in a non stereotypical way? where reader is quite literally the princess of olympus and no one would even think zeus is her dad ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a daughter of zeus

pairing percy jackson x zeus!reader

warnings none

on the radio . . . say yes to heaven (lana del rey)

an they have phones in this sorry !

You met Percy through Jason, your brother dearest

When you’d arrived at camp in the winter, getting claimed as soon as you stepped foot into the border, he’d been there for you and explained everything you needed to know about life as a demigod

One of the first things he told you when you got claimed by Zeus is that you, “aren’t like his other kids.” You didn’t think much of it at first, but then others who got to know you started saying the same thing - you were much too kind to be Zeus’ kid

Despite this, he seemed to have an affinity for you, for he’d claimed you immediately and had a weapon ready in your cabin for you. Once others caught wind of this, they started dubbing you “princess” as you had a heart of gold and seemed to be Zeus’ favourite child

As the months went by, you heard stories about all the quests people had done, the most spoken of being a quest prophesied about in the great prophecy. Your brother, along with six other demigods, saved the world from Gaia

Jason told you all about the six other demigods, but only one of them intrigued you - Percy Jackson

See, Jason wasn’t the only person who’d speak about Percy. You’d always hear his name pop up in random conversations: the great Percy Jackson, two-time saviour of the world. When they talk about him like that, you can’t help but be interested

So when Jason told you that Percy would be arriving at camp soon and to let him in if he shows up at your cabin, you were a little excited

You didn’t meet Percy at Cabin 1, though

It was a particularly hot summer day and after hours of trying to cool yourself down with your wind powers - which had started giving you an awful headache - you decided to go to the beach

Grabbing a packet of biscuits, you ran to the shore, desperate to be rid of the heat around you

When you got there, the first thing you did was make your way to your dear pegasus, Lovely. A month into your being at camp, you found her at this very beach, which you thought was strange as all the others were at the stables. Still, she grew on you, and now you regularly visit her with biscuits

“Hello, Lovely,” you said, giving her a biscuit which she immediately chomped down as you petted her nose. You smiled, breathing in the salty air of the shore

Suddenly, someone interrupted your peace, “what’re you doing with Blackjack?” He asked, an accusatory tone laced in his voice 

You turned around, confused, “her name is Lovely, she’s been my pegasus for a couple months now,” you explained, not wanting any conflict to arise

“No, his name is Blackjack. He’s a guy, and he’s been my pegasus for years!” The pegasus neighed and whinnied. You didn’t know what he was saying, but the guy did, as he smirked and gave you a look that clearly said, ‘I told you so’

You made your way over to the guy, “I’m sorry, I only arrived this winter. I haven’t seen you around before, and no one told me this was your pegasus.” 

He smiled and you breathed a sigh of relief, glad to know he wasn't offended, “it’s fine, he really enjoys your company. I’m Percy Jackson.” 

That was the day you fell in love. All you could think about was Percy, and getting to know him didn’t help either. To you, he felt like a breath of fresh air. He was easy-going, charming, and everything you could ever need in a man

Percy had fallen for you too. He never thought he’d ever crush on a daughter of Zeus, out of all people, but there he was. Everything he hated about your father was absent in you. 

You made shapes out of clouds for the younger kids and used your voice to advocate for good

As June turned into July then August, the two of you spent more and more time together

Your crushes on each other remained, of course, but neither of you were willing to do anything about them due to something Jason had said on the day you met 

After the Blackjack-Lovely incident, Percy decided to walk you back to your cabin, partially because that’s what his mother drilled into his head when he was 13, and partially because he desperately needed to know more about you

When you got to the front door, you decided to invite him in, not wanting to say goodbye so soon. He accepted, glad to not have to leave you already.

Jason was already inside and they shared a brotherly reunion before he noticed you were there too, “I see you’ve met my sister, Y/N,” he said, smiling at you

While Jason was usually pretty oblivious when it came to love, he noticed a spark had formed between the two of you. With a teasing smile on his face, he said, “well, you two better not start dating!”

You respected your brother’s wishes. He’d been so kind to you when you first came to camp, not dating his best friend was the least you could do

And although Percy was notorious for not following directions, he couldn’t help but obey Jason’s rule, as he didn’t want to create a wedge between you and him

He tried to stay friends with you for as long as he could, but the sea does not like to be restrained

One day, Percy woke up feeling unable to push down his feelings for you anymore. Even if you rejected him, he knew he had to tell you. So he went to the beach, where he knew you’d be

Percy took a deep breath and sent a quick prayer to Aphrodite, “Y/N, I have to tell you something.”

Turning, your lips pursed in confusion and concern at the seriousness of Percy’s voice. You left Blackjack and walked towards the boy, “is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, don’t worry,” he began, “it’s just that I really like you, Y/N. No, actually, I love you. I’ve loved you for so long. From the moment I saw you on this beach, I was a goner,” he sensed you were about to tell him you can’t date because you didn’t want to upset Jason, so he continued, “I know Jason said we couldn’t date but trust me, I’ll prove my worth to him. I’ll even prove my worth to Zeus if you ask me to, I’d do anything just to be yours. Please, can’t we try?” 

You felt tears prick your eyes at his heartfelt confession. Who were you to deny him? “Okay,” you said, before throwing yourself onto him, lips interlocked

You promised Jason to train with him first thing in the morning. When he woke up and found that you weren’t in bed, he decided to look for you at the beach, knowing how much you loved Percy’s pegasus

He was, of course, right. You were at the beach. You also seemed to love Percy more than the pegasus. Jason smiled, happy to see his sister and his best friend finally confess to each other, “Y/N promised to train with me, but we can always do that later.”

Immediately, the two of you started explaining yourselves, apologising for not following Jason’s wishes, confusing him, “why would I be upset about this?” He asked

“You said we better not start dating, remember?” Percy replied

“Guys, I was joking. Couldn’t you tell? I was clearly teasing you.”

You vowed to teach Jason how to properly make a joke after that day

Percy couldn’t be happier. Every morning, he’d show up at your cabin just to walk you to breakfast

He also sits at the Zeus table now. He gets judging stares for it, but he doesn’t care

When people found out you and Percy were dating, he started receiving lots of threats from random campers detailing what they’d to to him if he even thought about hurting their princess 

Zeus also left a letter on his bed. That was scary, but he was glad the God didn’t blast him all the way down to Tartarus

Your guys’ favourite place to hang out is on the roof of your cabin. As a child of Zeus, you enjoy being in places with high altitudes, and after Percy had caught you up there a couple times, you decided to teach him how to climb up

You always watch the sunsets and sunrises from up there together <3 they become your thing. Whenever you’re apart, you send each other pictures of the sky so you can still sort of watch the sun rise and set at the same time

Blackjack loves you more than Percy. If he's with Percy and glimpses you from afar, he gallops over to you and nuzzles the crook of your neck 

Jason is lowkey sick of you. Especially when he enters HIS cabin to relax on HIS bed and finds you guys making out

Its okay though because you’re camp's prince and princess

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson headcannons #percy jackson x zeus reader #percy jackson x daughter of zeus #zeus pjo #children of zeus #daughter of zeus #cynwrites

[imyourbratzdoll]

Hello my beautiful bubs💗 so I see you added Max Burnett to your list and like to request a little angsty and fluff. 

So Maybe him and reader get into a ugly and heated argument or he leaves her with no explanation like he does in the movie but then they End up fixing everything after awhile. 

hey baby! I hope you like what I wrote!

summary - max left you with a word, causing you to go through many stages of heartbreak until you finally meet again after 5 years.

warning - angst, swearing, heartbreak, no happy ending.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips and @firefly-graphics

He told you to meet him here. You were sure of it. You had reread the address and time he sent, not wanting to disappoint him. You waited anxiously on the bed, gnawing your bottom lip as you whipped your head from the door to your phone. You turned it on and went to the messages, opening his contact.

Max❤: Meet me at our spoken place, you know what room. No, later than 12.

You looked at the time, noting it was now an hour past 12, and you were all alone. You scrolled through the messages you had sent him.

You: I’m here. 12:00 seen

You: Max? Where are you? 12:05 seen

You: Max? 12:15 seen

You stared sadly at your last message.

You: I see… You’re not coming… 1:00 message could not be delivered

You blinked back the tears, wondering if you would’ve seen the signs beforehand if you weren’t so stupidly in love. You would’ve rathered him break things off face to face instead of leaving you like this. Did he even care about you? Were you nothing to him? All these thoughts ran through your head as you stared at the wall, not bothering to wipe the tears that rolled down your cheek away. You must’ve been there for a long time because you were only brought out of your zoned-out state when someone entered the room, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder and asking if you were okay. You painfully smiled, nodding your head before leaving. You made your way home, feeling drained of all emotion, not knowing if you’ll ever feel okay again. 

You slowly stripped from your clothes, turned the shower on and entered. Your head rested against the cool tile, letting the water run down your body as tears fell from your eyes. Your heart hurt more than ever, squeezing harshly inside your chest as if someone had reached inside and begun to squeeze. Your sobs filled the quietness of your apartment, showing you how alone you really were. Once you were finished with your shower, you slowly got out and dried yourself, dressing in your comfy clothes before crawling into your bed, ignoring the harsh rumbles in your stomach, begging for food, ignoring the dryness of your throat. You just wanted to close your eyes and never wake again. 

It had been about five years since Max left you without a goodbye and a shattered heart. You spent the first year numb, barely living or feeling anything. Your friends and family didn’t see or hear from you, and when they did, they noticed that you barely took care of yourself. They tried convincing you to go to therapy, but you stared at them blankly. Barely even hearing a word they spoke to you.

The second year, you spent grieving. Your feelings came crashing down on you one day, and you couldn’t stop the dam from breaking. You’d cry whenever you saw something that reminded you of him, and you’d cry if you saw his name or someone who looked like him. You’d cry when you came home and saw things he had gifted you or the jumper he had left behind. The people in your life were still worried, but they were relieved you were at least feeling something now, taking more care of yourself than the previous year. 

And now we are here. For the remaining years, you became cold, heartless, and mean. You had built walls so damn high around your heart that no one could penetrate it. This is what caused the meeting you walked into. Your friends and family sat in your loungeroom as you walked into your apartment, staring at you worriedly. Throwing excuses that they care about you, they're worried about your well-being, and that you need to get help. You left, slamming the door behind you and heading to the closet bar. You sat on the stool and ordered a whiskey, needing something strong. You barely took notice of the man sitting beside you, rolling your eyes as other seats were available.

“I didn’t think I’d ever see you drink whiskey.” You scowled, knowing who was now sitting beside you by the voice. Max smirked, leaning against the counter. “What, no hug?” You skulled the rest of your drink, slamming the glass down before slowly turning toward him, noticing the smug look on his face. 

You smirk, causing his brows to furrow as confusion takes over his features before you raise your fist and slam it into his face, hearing the crunch of his nose. You slam some bills down onto the counter and begin to walk off, exiting the bar to get as far away from that asshole as possible. You rolled your eyes, clenching your jaw, when you heard him following behind you. “Hey! Wait up!” You don’t. You just pick up your pace until he grabs hold of your arm and spins you, quickly raising his hands as you go to punch him again. “I just want to talk.”

“Talk?” You growl, stepping closer to the man. “Now you just want to talk? After five fucking years, you finally want to fucking talk?!” You scream, punching his chest until he grabs your wrists and stares at you. You huff, glaring at him. “I don’t want to talk, Max. I want you to fuck off. I want to return to five years ago and get the shattered pieces of my heart back.” You lick your lips, “I want to go back to before I met you so that I could have never met you and fallen for your stupid words and your stupid face. I want to be me again, but guess what? I can’t! Because I fell for you.”

He raises a brow, gulping as he continues to stare at you. He took in how beautiful you had gotten and how your sweet scent wafted through the air and into his nose. He missed you and feels it’s too late to make it up to you, but god, he will try his hardest too. “Are you done?” 

“Let me go, you asshole.” You growl. You wouldn’t let him back in. You couldn’t. You don’t know if you’ll survive another heartbreak and aren’t willing to try.

“Just listen to me, okay? I’ve been looking for you for five years.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at his words. “It’s true, goddamit, Y/n! Will you just fucking listen to me.” 

“Or what? What are you going to do, huh? What’s worse than you pretending to fucking love me and then leaving me without so much of a word?” Your glare sharpens, desperately wanting to get far away from him. 

“For fuck sake! I didn’t pretend to fucking love you! I still fucking love you! I didn’t have a fucking choice, okay?!” Your brows furrow, wondering what the fuck he means by that. Max sighs. “They were onto you and me. They threatened to hurt you if I met or even spoke to you. It took me four years to get away from them, to get them off my radar. You disappeared. I’ve been looking for you to ensure they didn’t do anything. Fuck! I didn’t want to fucking hurt you!” 

You shake your head, not wanting to believe him. You couldn’t. Sure, you still had some love for him, but you couldn’t put yourself through that again. Max cups your cheeks, looking into your eyes with his tear-filled ones. “Please, just give me a chance… Even as a friend, I just… Please, I need to have you in my life.” You shrug against him, stepping back and away from him. 

“I don’t know… Maybe in another life, but I don’t know if I can put myself through that again.” You swallow the sob that tries to pass your lips before turning away from him and walking away, holding back the tears that want to fall.

“Y/n! Please!” He cries vision blurred with tears as he watches you leave him like he left you. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

#lokiandbuckydollask #imyourbratzdollasks #imyourbratzdollwork #max burnett #max burnett fanfiction #max burnett imagine #max burnett x female reader #max burnett x y/n #max burnett fic #max burnett fanfic #max burnett fandom #max burnett imagines #max burnett oneshot #max burnett one shot #max burnett fluff #max burnett angst #max burnett x you #max burnett x reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan characters #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan #sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan fan fiction #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan fandom #sebastian stan imagines #sebastian stan imagine

[keerysfreckles]

safe haven - mike schmidt

pairing: mike schmidt x f!reader

summary: mike schmidt's next door neighbor seems on edge when she knocks on his front door. the reason being remains unknown, until mike orders a pizza and lets the scared girl stay the night.

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, mentions of an abusive and toxic relationship, slight cursing

michael schmidt wasn't used to any of his neighbors knocking on his door. the only interactions being simple waves while getting the mail, or nods of their heads when they drive by.

mike instantly recognized his next door neighbor as he opens the front door. he's seen her plenty of times before, but the two haven't spoken to each other.

he notices her shaken up appearance, as her loose t-shirt hangs off one shoulder, and the grey sweatpants on her hips are barely tied. her hair is down, but the baby hairs by her forehead are erratically skewed.

"hello?"

mike's simple gretting takes the girl out of her trance. she kept looking between mike and her own front door. she fiddled with her hands before responding.

"yes, hi, uh- look i know we've never really talked before, but can i please stay here for an hour? two at most," y/n pleads, her eyes never faltering from her front door, with worry filling her pupils.

mike nods, before opening his door so y/n can walk inside, "are you alright?"

y/n's fast to shake her head, "no, um- no not really."

mike doesn't think he's ever seen her like this. "do you want something to drink? or a snack or something?"

"just water, please," y/n shuffles awkwardly by the kitchen counter, as she watches mike grab a glass and fill it was tap water.

y/n's grateful once the cool liquid flows down her throat. all of the screaming she had just done really did some damage on her throat.

mike couldn't help but notice the small bruises covering her wrists, and the giant red mark on her neck as she tilted her head back to drink the water.

"do you want to talk about anything? you seem on edge," mike offers, as he leads the two to the living room. he sits on the couch, and y/n sits down beside him.

just as y/n opens her mouth to respond, abby comes running down the hallway, a notebook in one hand and colored pencils in the other.

"who are you?"

abby's bluntness throws y/n off gaurd, causing her to laugh. she can't even remember the last time she laughed.

"abbs, this is our neighbor, y/n. she's gonna hang out here for a bit," mike tells abby, watching as she sits at the coffee table in front of the couch.

mike and y/n both turn their attention to the tv, which is playing reruns of a sitcom. they both felt it wasn't the most appropriate time to talk about y/n's situation while abby was in the room.

"what are those marks on your wrist from?" abby suddenly asks, catching both adults off gaurd.

"oh, uh, they're from bracelets i had on earlier. guess they were too tight." mike took notice of the way y/n's voice shook at the end of her response.

"hey abby, why don't you go back to your room and draw something for y/n. yeah?" mike offers his sister, who nods in return, before she walks down the hallway back to her room.

"you don't have to talk about anything by the way. i'm not gonna force you," mike spoke softly, not wanting to scare y/n more than she already was.

y/n's knee started to shake and her voice wavered as she responded, "my boyfriend- well ex-boyfriend now uh- he got too much. everything was fine until last month when he started to get aggressive."

mike's eyes slightly widened.

"at first it was only verbally. but when i came home last week, he hit me because i stayed late at work. i tried to tell him why, but he just wouldn't listen," y/n's eyes started to water as she remembers the events that took place.

"today was just so bad. i had to get out of there before he did anything worse," y/n finally looks up at mike, and sees nothing but sincerity in his eyes. her heart slightly sped up at the fact someone was actually listening to her.

"so you came here to get away from him?" mike concluded, causing y/n to nod.

"you can stay here as long as you need to okay?"

y/n nodded once more, thankful for mike's proposal. however a harsh knock on the front door caused her head to turn quickly, and michael stood from the couch. "probably just some solicitors. i'll get them to leave."

y/n stayed on the couch while mike opened the door. his heartrate picked up once he was met with a taller man, with a scruffy beard and dark curly hair. he seemed to have a glint of hatred in his eyes, and mike could only guess this was the person y/n was hiding from.

"can i help you?"

"you haven't seen y/n around, have you? she ran out a bit ago," the man explained, seeming way too calm about the situation.

mike shakes his head, "nope, haven't seen her today."

y/n's heart races as she listened to their conversation from the living room. she can't help but worry he's going to come inside and take her back to the toxic home she just came from.

y/n picks her head up at the loud noise, and stands up abruptly from the couch once she sees mike stumble back from her ex-boyfriend pushing the door open.

"you bitch!" he screams, instantly grabbing y/n's wrist, making her yelp out in pain. "i told you not to leave! and you come over here to whore around with him?"

*brad let go," the only three words y/n manages to get out, as she's more focused on planting her feet to try and make her unmovable.

brad only pulls on y/n's wrist harder, and slaps her cheek with his empty hand. y/n cups her cheek in shock, as brad pulls her out of the house and into mike's front yard.

mike follows the two, and jogs over to brad and pushes his chest, causing him to let go of y/n.

"y/n get back inside, lock the door," mike orders. y/n's quick to run back inside as she watches mike tell brad off through the window.

a few minutes pass and mike knocks on the front door. y/n of course lets him inside his home, and as soon as he closes and locks the door y/n wraps her arms around his waist.

mike's shortly taken aback before he holds onto the poor girl. he hears her start to cry, as her body starts to shake. mike holds y/n's head to his chest and he gently sways the two side to side.

"you're okay. you're safe here," mike whispers against the top of y/n's head. "do you want to stay for dinner?" he offers, of course wanting to do nothing but cheer the girl up.

y/n pulls back from the hug and wipes her tears, before nodding her head.

mike's quick to dial the local pizza shop as y/n sits back down on the couch, her hand immediately goes to her wrist and looks at the new bruise already starting to form.

mike walks down the hallway to abby's room, for two reasons. he first asks if she heard any of the yelling, to which she responded no since she had her radio playing. and secondly he asked if she wanted to join him and y/n in the living room and have pizza soon.

y/n watched as both mike and abby walked out of the hallway. mike sat beside y/n on the couch and abby sat at the coffee table again, as she continued to work on her drawing for y/n.

"are you cold?" mike asks y/n, seeing the goosebumps covering her arms. she simply nods, and mike leans forward and removes the dark grey hoodie he was wearing. y/n couldn't help but look to his stomach as the movement of him taking the hoodie off cause his shirt underneath to lift. he smiled as he handed her the article of clothing, and couldn't help but feel his heart warm at the sight of his hoodie covering y/n's torso.

a half hour passes, and mike seems to notice how a weight has lifted off y/n's shoulders. y/n and abby have been in a deep conversation about cartoon characters. the conversation however is cut short when the doorbell rings, making y/n jump from her spot on the couch.

mike reaches forward and places his hand over her knee, causing her to look at him. "it's okay, it's just the pizza."

the reassurance calms y/n down, and mike walks to the door. he pays the pizza delivery boy and places the greasy pizza box on the coffee table. he's quick to get paper plates for the three of the them before he sits back down besides y/n.

the trio enjoy their meal together, and abby starts asking y/n questions. like where she's from, where she goes to school, what her favorite color is, and a plethora of other random questions.

after the three finish dinner, mike and y/n are captived by a movie that was now playing on tv. abby was busy adding the finishing touches to her picture for y/n, and was excited to give it to her.

y/n looks down and sees abby handing her a colorful piece of paper, "is this for me?" abby nods.

y/n looks over the paper, seeing three people resembling mike, abby and herself. the figures seem to be outside as they're together in a grassy area with flowers surrounding them.

"i love it abby," y/n smiles, "i'll keep it forever."

two hours pass, and after another movie plays, abby had fallen asleep with her head on her notebook, her right hand still gripping a red colored pencil. mike only laughs, before he shakes abby's shoulder to wake her up.

"i'll be right back," he states. y/n nods as she watches mike lead abby to her bedroom to put her to bed. y/n looks at the clock placed on the wall and sees its nearing eleven pm.

y/n leans her head back on the couch, and can't help but let her eyes close, as sleep takes over.

mike whistles while walking back into the living room, after saying goodnight to abby. his whistling is cut short when he looks at the sleeping girl on his couch. he chuckles at her positon. she's now in a curled ball, as her arms are crossed over her chest.

mike turns off the tv, and grabs the blanket draped over the arm of the chair from across the room. he places the material over y/n, before leaning down and kissing the girl's forehead. he wanted to make sure she knew she was always safe in his home.

#mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt x y/n #fnaf movie #five nights at freddy's

[highonmarvel]

Ribs (II)

Bucky Barnes: Mob!Bucky has you. 18+ only.

Part I: Ribs

content warnings here!

You have limited mobility in your left arm without having sharp pain shoot across your shoulder and, of course, damaged knee caps—Dr Banner replaced the shattered one, luckily your right knee only had flesh wounds, no damaged cartilage; you still needed a cane to walk, but three months later you could at least walk without the help of another person. Theee months.

How you had survived was more a curse than a blessing, you wished you’d just died on the spot.

Bucky hadn’t hurt you since, and if you didn’t know better, you might have assume he felt genuine remorse and guilt over his actions. He’d dragged you to the car and you assumed sedated you, because you next woke up in a hospital bed. He wasn’t even there when you opened your eyes. After everything he couldn’t even be bothered to fucking show up.

Dr Banner you wanted to believe was a good man who had just got caught up with Bucky’s line of work—you remember vaguely hearing Banner “owed him” and he was now his personal medic, patching him and his men up when things went awry. He had a sad look in his face when he noticed you gaining consciousness; he didn’t speak, you (physically) couldn’t, neither of you had to—he could sense the disappointment in you, that he was going to help cover up such a violent assault, so violent you couldn’t imagine Bucky had ever tortured one of his enemies this way—maybe he fucked them up, and fucked them up bad, but raping someone was beyond.

It took a few days for you to be able to be able to speak coherently and sit up on your own after initially waking up—not once did Bucky visit.

But Steve did.

Bucky was extremely strict with you not getting involved in his business, not talking to any men, including his own. You had seen Steve a few times, spent a little time with him as you waited for Bucky to wrap something up, and gathered he was Bucky’s right hand man, but you’d never really spoken to him, and you got the sense he was under strict orders not to speak to you.

His visits were short and from afar, but you caught him watching through the window a few times with the most somber expression: he knew this had gone too far.

One night, Dr Banner had left, the nurse slipped out for the second, and you caught Steve through the window, mouthed the words “Help me.”

His eyes widened, he looked down both sides of the corridor and you were sure he was going to rush in and do something, get you out, or even just speak to you, if not for encouragement at least some form of brief conversation outside of basic health questions with Dr Banner would have done—he could even have yelled at you, you just felt like you needed to speak to someone—but he didn’t; he shook his head and left.

Three weeks later you could go back “home,��� they said—Bucky’s penthouse wasn’t home. It wasn’t a hospital you were in, it was one of Banner’s labs with a few hospital beds, the drive to the penthouse was less than ten minutes. Bucky hadn’t visited. You had expected to see him in the car, but when you were put in, it was a blond instead.

The door shut, the car started rolling, and Steve didn’t look at you.

“Steve,” you breathed, though you couldn’t reach towards him with your arm in a sling, “Please help me.”

He stared straight ahead, but you saw him gulp; you knew he was opposed to this, opposed enough to go against Bucky? You couldn’t even beg, plead for him to help, you were still a little fucked out on pain killers, but you had noted that day you could get him to help, even in just the slightest way. You could.

Steve pushed you in on a wheelchair, and when the elevator opened to reveal the lavish foyer, Bucky stood with a glass of scotch in hand and a small smile, a soft look in his blue eyes you never thought you’d see again.

He crouched down, eye level with you, “I’ll never hurt you again. Never.” And you had heard that before, you knew better than to believe him, but you just wanted this to be over, you forced yourself to believe him as tears spilt from his eyes, just enough to get through hell.

Even through the drugs, you could feel your ribs sting.

Three months now, and you went down for a glass of water in the middle of the night, not that you needed it, but you needed to get out of the bed you shared with a devil. He stirred, asked where you were going, he knew you had a glass right next to you, but you told him you just needed to stretch your legs more than anything, but only to the kitchen. To your surprise, he didn’t protest.

You hobbled down the stairs, cursing the winding steps as you made your way down, slowly.

Upon entering the kitchen,

“Steve.”

You say as you spot him leaning against the counter.

“You need to leave.”

Tears spring to your eyes. You knew it; you knew there was good in him; you knew he could do it.

You nod furiously as you take a step towards him.

There’s a sound, a loud sound, and a hole in Steve’s head, red seeping from his forehead, down his face, blank blue eyes staring back at you.

You can’t even scream, there’s a hand on your mouth instantly. Now you shake your head, struggling to breathe under the force of a palm pressed against your lips, heavily breathing through your nose, tears streaming down your face with such speed you’re momentarily worried you’ll run dry, dehydrated yourself and collapse on the kitchen floor.

Maybe this time he’ll kill you.

A knee connects with the back of your bad one and you fall forward onto your hands and knees, that splintering pain shooting through your legs again. You drop onto your stomach with a cry, reaching shaky hands down to hold your knees.

“I’m sorry,” Bucky coos as he crouches. He runs a hand down your cheek which you can’t even slap away, your own holding your legs as you breathe so shakily and heavily you’re near hyperventilating, body trembling.

“That wasn’t to hurt you, I just needed to get you down, okay? I didn’t hurt you, see?” he tries, tone gentle and assuring.

You manage to stretch your neck back to look up the room. You hadn’t even heard Steve’s body hit the ground, but there it lays, blue eyes once full of emotion devoid of it, and still staring back at you. Blood pools around him, staining the pristine white of the ostentatious kitchen.

Bucky places a hand on the back of your neck, bends your head forward to face him again.

“I don’t want to do this again,” he murmurs, eyes welling with tears, “I don’t want to hurt you again, but you can’t leave me, angel, you know that; it hurts both of us, and everyone around, see? Steve’s dead, my best friend, because of you; you killed my best friend.”

You don’t have the will to fight anymore; you’re broken, physically and mentally. You want to just nod, and you want to apologise, but you can’t through silent screams leaving your throat as you try to calm yourself from the hot, unbearable pain in your knees.

“And I still love you. I know you’re confused, but you love me too. Doll, you can do anything to me; scream, kick, try to kill me, if that’s what you want… but don’t ever leave me.”

His voice goes dark as he emphasises those last few words, so dangerously low you’re worried you’ll slip into that tone and keep falling in, and those words, more so the way he said them, will haunt you forever.

“That’s the one thing: don’t leave. I know it’s been difficult, but look at you still standing. Everything can be fine, you just have to stay. I can change, just don’t leave. I love you.”

It’s not love, nowhere near close, and you wish he’d never used that word and that he’d never use it again, it’s some fucked up need to possess, keep and own, to have and to hold, as an object, it’s like he just wants a doll—maybe that’s why he calls you that.

He places his gun aside, deliberately away from you, you can tell, and sits cross-legged next to you. His fingertips lightly graze your left shoulder. You wince through your other frantic efforts to adjust to your much more prominent pain, and he snatches his hand away, like you’re hot to the touch. Slowly, he brings his fingertips back, and though you jerk slightly, he doesn’t pull away. Calloused fingers graze where your shoulder had been popped out of place, and so gently he does it for a moment you forget he’s the one that caused it.

He presses down harder, and you cry out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispers, over and over like a prayer. You look up at him and see that sinister glint in his eyes, that thing that possesses him, that look you know better than well, that look engraved into your mind, so deep it’s an integral part of you, at this point.

That sadistic glint. He will never change; he can’t change. And you can’t escape.

✪

#dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky x reader #dark bucky x reader #dark bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x you #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky barnes x y/n #dark!bucky x y/n #dark avengers #dark!avengers #yandere bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky barnes #soft!dark!bucky

[starlightshadowsworld]

Heroes of Olympus but when Jason returns to Camp Jupiter, he's pissed.

He doesn't cower at the sight of his camp but stands taller. A steelness in his eyes no one at Camp Half Blood has ever seen before.

But one those in Camp Jupiter know all to well.

"Twelth Leigion Fulminata, stand at attention."

He doesn't even need to raise his voice as every single Roman demigod stops what their doing to look at him.

The only thing on their faces is fear.

"Oh would you look at that, you do know how to follow orders." Says Jason, strolling forward and.

Two centurions scramble to get a seat for him, Jason sits down nodding in thanks and dismissing them.

"Does anyone care to explain, just what the fuck has been going on here in my absence?"

Octavian raises a hand and Jason snorts.

"Augur, why am I not suprised? The floor is yours."

Octavian nods, a grin on his face and began to explain what had occurred.

All the while Jason listens, his expression giving nothing away. When Octavian finished, Jason sighed loudly and ran a hand through his hair.

"If there's one thing I can't tell you idiots off its for making my life boring. Your dismissed...actually one last thing Augur?"

Octavian paused, turning back around to face Jason. "Yes, sir?" Jason frowned "wipe that smug look off your face before I do it for you."

Octavian went pale, all traces off amusement gone from his face.

"Thank you. Your dismissed, get out of my sight." Octavian left without a second word.

"Jason"

"Praetor Ramirez-Arellano"

Reyna winced, and she wasn't the only one. Jason never called her by her title unless they were in the Senate.

He was hurt.

"Do tell me, has Augur Octavian missed anything in his explanation?" Reyna shook her head, for as pretentious as he was Octavian had spoken the truth.

Jason rose to his feet.

"Oh but he did, he neglected to mention that there were 3 Praetors standing before us. Now, unless the rules have changed their are only supposed to be 2."

Jason looked past Reyna, his gaze resting on Percy who waved awkwardly. "State your name."

Percy, feeling very much like he was intruding in on something answered him. "Percy Jackson."

Recognition flashed in Jason's gaze, and he softened momentarily. "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon? Formerly apart of this Camp?" He asked, gesturing to his orange Camp Half Blood top.

"Yup."

Jason nodded "apologises, Jackson. Your friends and I traveled here, you may wait in the Senate. I will release them to you momentarily." Percy grinned "thanks, erm... Sorry about all of this I really didn't know."

Jason held up a hand "that's quite alright, you are not at fault for this." Percy left and Jason's smile vanished.

"Tell me, when did the Senate allow for a new Praetor to be reinstated? And why someone so new? I'd get if it was due to an it emergency field promotion, but that wasn't the case."

He couldn't even look at her and it hurt.

"I thought you were dead, Jason.

Jason laughed, but there was no humour in it. It sent chills down everyone's spines.

"Really? Than please, show me the search parties, point me to the evidence you collected that bought you too such a conclusion. For that matter, where's my funeral pyre?"

Jason shook his head, anger and sadness in his eyes. "Don't bullshit me. You didn't think I was dead, you didn't even look. And frankly I don't think you cared too."

He looked Reyna in the eye. "You replaced me, with a Greek. I get shit for being named after a Greek hero, but none of you had a problem with this. You wanted to replace me, Reyna. I'm sorry it didn't work out for you."

He shook his head, turning his back on her.

"Jason, wait I-"

"We have several guests at our gate that we need to welcome. I've already had their weapons checked but you've proven how little you trust my authority so you might want to hurry up on that."

And with that he left to the Senate.

Jason swapped his outfit with Percy who apologised once again.

"Really man, I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault. My Leigion had been trying to get rid of me since the day I showed up. Unfortunately for them, I'm more valuable alive than dead." Explains Jason, Percy frowned.

"Well, fuck em." He grinned when Jason laughed in suprise. "You are definitely something else, Jackson." Percy grinned wider "see you're learning fast. I think we'll be good friends you and I."

Jason raised an eyebrow "you sure? Most of my friends stab me in the back." Percy nodded, a sincerity in his eyes that made Jason almost believe he wouldn't.

It felt too good to be true.

"Well, I'll just have to prove you wrong." Percy put a hand out "Percy Jackson, son of Posideon and former Praetor." Jason shook his hand. "Jason Grace, son of Jupiter and current Praetor."

Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

#long post #jason grace #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #reyna avila ramirez arellano #octavian pjo #... I don't think it's bashing if it's canon?

[vpgoldenrod]

Aziraphale's Haunted Look: On Being Forcibly Outed and Exiled From The Garden

While we're all talking about Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss, I'm surprised by those who thought Aziraphale looked disgusted because that's not an emotion I'd seen in him at all. There's sadness, and confusion, and anger, but I couldn't remember seeing disgust. When I watched the scene again I realized there's something else going on that really struck a chord with me. It's an uncomfortably familiar look.

He feels exposed. And I know what it feels like to be exposed in such a violent and intimate way.

Stay with me, I promise this is relevant to my analysis.

I didn't know what being transgender meant when I was a kid. Being raised in a fundamentalist Christian house meant that I wasn't exposed to those ideas, so I lived my life feeling like something was always just kind of broken. It was like I was looking right through the problem at other things, trying to alleviate symptoms without understanding why they existed in the first place. I eventually met other trans people, who gently nudged me in the direction of my truth. I even became aware that I had experienced some minor dysphoria. Every time I came close to acknowledging the truth however, my eyes would once again begin to glaze over the problem. I always managed to subconsciously shove it back into a little box and move on with my life. It was like I accidentally “did a big miracle” and hid this truth from myself so well that I continually forgot it was there.

Til one day I had an encounter that changed everything.

We're friends now but oddly enough, it was only meant to be a fling. I won't go into too many details because it's not just my story, but it was a lovely time that culminated with us meeting and doing what adults do. The person I was with, a cis man, silently clocked me the minute we were face to face. For reasons I now understand, without warning and in the middle of our shared intimate experience, he decided to talk dirty to me as if I were a gay man.

No one had ever spoken to me like that before. It had never occurred to me to ask anyone to do that, or that anyone would want to. I was in an intimate space and filled with the typical emotions and endorphins one has during sex, but it was a fling. I had walls up. So for the first time in my life, in this incredibly vulnerable position, someone grabbed me by my lapels and forced me to face a deep truth about myself that I'd spent decades silently dancing around. It was a blunt, irrefutable truth and it hit like a sucker punch to the solar plexus. He saw me when I was very much not trying to be seen, and there's few things more terrifying than that.

Even now, years later, I have such a hard time putting into words the overwhelming emotions I felt that night. There were so many, and yet somehow I can see every single one of the emotions I felt in Aziraphale's face when Crowley lets him go. My heart breaks all over again seeing how exposed he felt. He can barely make eye contact until he stumbles onto the one emotion that gives him his agency back: anger.

Gabriel shows up to the bookshop completely naked. When a bewildered Aziraphale points it out Gabriel says, “Who told you I was naked?”

But that's not how the story goes.

God looks for Adam in the garden, but he hides from her. He eventually tells God, “I heard your voice in the garden and I was afraid because I was naked, so I hid myself.”

Then God asks Adam, “Who told you you were naked?” And of course Adam knows he is naked because he ate the apple.

I've made jokes about Crowley being the apple that bit Aziraphale, but I forgot the bit that happens afterwards. He is aware of his own nakedness. He is exposed. To God, to Crowley, and to himself. As a result he is exiled from the safety of his Eden. Man, if this isn't the perfect analogy for being forcibly outed I don't know what is.

This show is so gay you guys.

#michael sheen deserves an emmy and also a hug #good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #do it again #neil gaiman #good omens analysis #amazon prime video #pay your actors #good omens spoilers #michael sheen #LGBT+

[nerinefy]

hellooo may i rq an obey me imagine where a blank faced , cool and calm mc who is exceptionally good at seductive speech-craft just drops the biggest flirt on the brothers and just acts cool about it not giving them a reaction. how would the brothers react ? tyy - 👺 anon

OLDER BROTHERS VER. !! (PART 2 WILL BE DECIDED.)

- details: pronouns: you/yours | headcanon | crack + fluff | word count: | warnings: slight cursing if you squint + some...jokes

- author's note: im back ig, and im sorry if this req took like a year :')

LUCIFER !

you really are a pain, truly. the avatar of pride may try his hardest to hide the effect you have on him yet he was proven the opposite. surely you wouldn't have noticed?...right? wrong. why would you continue teasing the absolute devildom out of him if you didn't notice?

the way he looks away and adjusts his perfectly neat tie is one thing, but looking closely, why would someone unaffected have short and shaky breaths with slightly flushed cheeks?

at this point, mans just gave up and ran with it. what do you mean you had him flustered? are you sure you've been sleeping well? he's known all along and sure is amused, yeah, he definitely thought of that at first.

even with his rough start, he managed to win you over. not like it was a competition in the first place but he'll take it as one for the sake of his image. he surely did a number on you later on. did you really think he'll let you do that to him? yeah, maybe after this life, just maybe.

eventually you'll be even more of a mess than him if he takes up the challenge. the other brothers may have complained more than once since you two have been going at it ever since you started teasing him using your 'assets'.

MAMMON !

unlike lucifer who eventually leaves you high and dry (or wet, idk about you), mammon fails, and he fails at the worst possible way. at least in his eyes, he is an overdramatic little shit if you've forgotten.

he acts as if you haven't taken his breath with just one word. he can't really convince anyone with forehead dripping with sweat and his entire body shifting and squirming whenever you take the smallest step closer to him. go easy on him though, please. he's trying his best.

he doesn't recover well the longer you speak to him, he brushes it off with the brightest blush you've ever seen even though he swears it's just the heat going on these days (it was not hot, actually, it was very cold at that time.)

you'd likely have to watch out, he might faint even at the sight of you. he just can't help it you know, you already look so irresistible doing mundane things, so you directly giving him all your attention, and with that voice of yours...it most definitely will leave him melting in your arms.

it's utterly embarrassing for him to be a mess in front of you, but soon he just accepts it. if that's the way you'd like him to be, then he'd be just that. only for you. of course, he'd never in his very long life admit it out loud but you get the point.

LEVIATHAN !

this one is a tough one for sure. not because you have no effect on him, it's most definitely not that. it's more like he's actively finding a way for you not to approach him. he's hiding and running away from you like he did numerous crimes bad enough to not be spoken of, not like that'll work on you though.

you've already traumatized him enough with his first encounter with you, he's not willing to go in for a second round. one word from you and he might actually faint. it's bad enough that you're the most enchanting person he's ever seen, but you going out of your way to speak to him with that mesmerizing voice of yours, it's like you came straight out of a video game with how unimaginably beautiful you are.

if you ever have him cornered, he just might have the courage to face you somehow. unfortunately, his newfound confidence will be immediately replaced with clammy hands and teary eyes. and yes, hugging him to comfort him would make things worse.

just a thought though- please go easy on him.

©nerinefy do not plagiarize, repost, or translate. | reblogs are appreciated!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me! #obey me headcanon #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me lucifer x reader #om lucifer x reader #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #obey me mammon x reader #om imagines #om fluff #om crack #om fanfic #obey me fanfiction #obey me fluff #obey me swd #obey me fanfic #om! lucifer #om! mammon #om! leviathan #om! swd #om! shall we date #obey me short fic #om lucifer #om mammon #om beelzebub

[delta-piscium]

I wrote this in September and it’s been collecting dust in my docs and staring back at me with judgement whenever I post or write something else so here 

“Steve” a familiar voice shouts across the room.

Steve turns around, and there, on the other side of the crowded room is Tommy. It really shouldn’t be as big of a shock to see him as it is. Steve is at a house party on a Friday night, it would have been weirder if Tommy wasn’t here. But still, that doesn’t mean he’s prepared to see him, they basically haven’t talked in three years, ever since Steve ‘chose’ Nancy over him and Carol (aka finally dropped them because they were horrible and didn’t drop Nancy because she isn’t). 

Still, he plasters on a smile, making it as polite as he can, and waves. Hopes it will be enough but of course, it isn’t. Tommy starts weaving through people, pushing and elbowing his way toward Steve.

“Its been ages,” he says clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder, “how have you been man.”

Steve resists the urge to shrug his hand off, but it’s a close thing. 

“It has.” Steve doesn’t add ‘because you’re an asshole and I hate who I am around you’ and he feels very mature for it. “I’m good.” He very deliberately does not ask Tommy how he’s been. 

“Me too, me too.” He responds anyways, at least he finally removes his hand from Steve’s shoulder which makes him relax marginally. “Still dating Nancy?” 

And, okay yeah, he and Tommy haven’t really spoken since he and Nancy were still together but Hawkins is a small town and he’s sure Tommy knows that Nancy had both broken up with Steve, gone on to date Jonathan for two years, and recently broken up with him as well. Actually, he thinks he remembers a shower conversation with Billy just days after she dumped him and went off to Murray with Jonathan, a conversation that Tommy was also present for.

“No, we broke up years ago.” He dutifully replies anyways, because what else can he say? 

“Yeah, heard she dumped you?” 

Steve is gonna remain calm, play along in whatever game Tommy is playing, and not react. 

“She did,” he agrees easily.

“And got with Jonathan right after? Should have listened to us and stayed away.” He grins as he speaks, grins as if Steve is gonna agree with him. 

“We’re still friends,” Steve shrugs, letting the fall of Tommy’s smile bring one to his own lips.

“Was for the best that we broke up, we’re much better as friends.” 

Tommy squints a bit, his hackles raising and Steve only notices because he once knew him so well. Why he’s still getting defensive talking about Nancy Steve doesn’t know.

“Oh Stevie, you still hung up on her huh?” 

It’s deliberate, he’s trying to press Steve’s buttons. ‘Well, tough Tommy-boy.’ Steve thinks, ‘those ones don’t work anymore, have been defunct for ages. You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want a reaction.’ 

“Nah,” he says, lets his smile be a bit more genuine when he continues, “she’s great but I’m dating someone else.” 

“Rebound?” Tommy whistles, “she hot?” 

Why Tommy is convinced Steve is still pining after Nancy he can’t say, or maybe it’s the only angle he has on Steve nowadays? Except they basically lived in each other's pockets all through high school and if Tommy really wants to get under Steve’s skin there are other things, better things. Things he has used against Steve before and seen the effect of. Why he isn’t he using them now when he clearly has some agenda Steve can’t say.

Steve is about to respond, has his mouth open and ready to speak when someone calls his name again. Thankfully this time the source is a lot more pleasant. 

Tommy turns around to see who it is, completely exposing his back to Steve. It’s probably the last few years of fighting hell monsters that has ingrained a distrust in Steve. Making him hyper-aware of his surroundings and never willing to leave his back open like this to people he doesn’t trust. He knows this but still, he thinks there should be some primal instinct in Tommy to stop him from making himself so vulnerable to Steve, the action speaks of leftover trust that Steve isn’t ready to face. 

“Munson? You know Munson?” He turns back around, an incredulous look on his face.

It snaps Steve out of his thoughts and reminds him Eddie had called for him. He leans to the side, stretching out so he’s visible behind Tommy, catching Eddie’s eye and waving him over.

“I do, yeah.”

Tommy’s face twists into something Steve can’t immediately place. He recognizes it, knows he’s seen Tommy make that face before. It’s not disgust or confusion but maybe something in between? Before he can figure it out it clears.

“Oh, King Steve getting drugs? Who would have thought?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, the only reason he had stopped smoking weed for a while in high school was because athletes got tested. Why Tommy is pretending Steve ever had some moral issue with it now is beyond him but not much of this interaction has made sense to him so far so what’s one more thing?

“What Steve doing drugs? He’s a very responsible young man and would never” Eddie says, twisting past the last couple of people.

“Right Stevie? You wouldn’t touch the stuff?” Eddie–knowing very well that Steve would in fact ‘touch the stuff’–asks. 

“Not with a ten-foot pole.” Steve–who smoked yesterday–deadpans. 

“Knew I could trust in you to stay a good boy.” Eddie coos as he steps into Steve's space and kisses him despite where they are. It’s quick enough that no one who isn’t watching would catch it though and the only one who is watching is Tommy. When Steve looks back at him his face slack with shock. 

“Hagan,” Eddie says with a short nod. 

“You-?” Tommy looks between them, that same look as before flashing on his face, still just out of Steve’s grasp.

Steve contemplates what he should do for a second but Tommy already saw them kiss, already knows. And honestly, Steve doesn’t really care what he thinks and he knows Tommy won't say anything. Steve has too much dirt on him.

“Oh sorry, Tommy this is my boyfriend.” His voice is deceptively sweet as he introduces Eddie as if that’s what Tommy had been getting at.

Steve turns to Eddie, “baby, you know who Tommy is right?” 

He’s laying it on thick, asks despite Eddie greeting him by name two seconds ago. Knows others' unabashed confidence and being on the outside are things Tommy can’t handle.

“I think so,” Eddie plays along, “you were friends once right? Before you found better people?” 

It’s mean but Steve wouldn't have thought too much of it if it weren’t for the wounded noise Tommy makes. When Steve looks at him again his face is cracked open and it finally clicks what that expression is.

“Aw, you jealous?” Eddie says in a mocking tone, hitting the nail on the head because that’s exactly what that expression is, jealousy. 

It’s the same look he had whenever Steve told him about a new girl, the look he’d have when Steve started bringing Nancy around. It’s deeper though, not only jealousy. He also looks like he did when Steve told him and Carol to leave him alone. He doesn’t just look jealous, Tommy looks heartbroken. 

He tries to pull it together, scrunching his nose up in disdain, and scowls at them. Quickly looks away from Steve when their eyes catch and his mask falls a bit, instead focusing on Eddie who raises one eyebrow in response. 

“Hardly,” he scoffs, it comes out strained, “I would love to stay and chat but-” 

He doesn’t elaborate, just turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd.

Steve is frozen to the spot, a war going on in his head. Puzzle pieces he didn’t know were missing falling into place.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” Eddie grabs Steve’s wrist and starts pulling him outside, away from the party. He gets them in his car and doesn’t try to speak to Steve, probably sensing he’s having some earth-shattering realizations right now. 

“He liked me,” he finally manages to say. “That’s why he hated Nancy so much. He was...” he trails off, knows it’s true but can’t quite say it.

“Jealous,” Eddie finishes softly.

“You knew?” Steve asks because Eddie doesn’t sound or look surprised at all.

He shrugs, “I had my suspicions.”

“But how-”

“We looked at you the same,” his smile is wry, self-deprecating, “I recognized it.”

And Steve can’t really process this right now even though he knows it’s true so he grasps at straws, “Carol, he was with Carol?”

Eddie reaches out one arm and cups his face in his hand, glances at him quickly before he looks back at the road with a sad smile.

“If you’re in love with your best friend, your male best friend who you believe is straight, you do what you need to do to push it down, to hide it. Especially in high school and in a small town.”

“In love?” Steve rasps because he’d said ‘like’.

“Yeah, sweetheart. In love.”

Eddie brushes his fingers under Steve’s eye and he realizes it’s because he’s crying.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I don’t know why I'm reacting like this.” 

And it’s true, he really doesn’t understand why it feels like a big hole has opened in him. He never liked Tommy, not like that, yet it feels like he’s lost something, fucked something up.

“He used to be your best friend, it’s a big thing to realize.” Eddie parks outside of his trailer, turns to Steve making no move to get out of the car. “Kind of changes everything, or at least puts it in a new context, explains some things.”

Steve feels the blood drain from his face because he’s suddenly remembered something and oh god does it put it in a new fucking context.

“Baby?” Eddie asks when Steve sits frozen again.

“We used to get wasted and make out,” he whispers the words, shame coursing through his veins.

Eddie goes still and Steve rushes the explain.

“Not often and not after he got with Carol, just,” he takes a shallow breath, “It happened a few times. We’d steal my dad's whiskey and get so beyond drunk and, well, kiss a lot.” 

He’d smile at the memory if he wasn’t so horrified by it at the moment. 

“The first time Tommy had never kissed anyone, asked me to teach him so he wouldn’t fuck it up when it mattered. Then after that it just kind of continued to happen. We’d get drunk, make out, and pretend like nothing. It stopped when he started seeing Carol, he tried but I stopped him. Told him he didn’t need to practice now when he had the real deal. We never talked about or even mentioned it.”

Steve sees Eddie’s arms shake and when he looks up he sees Eddie holding back laughter, eyes filled with barely concealed amusement.

“Are you laughing right now?”

Eddie stops holding back, letting the laughter burst out of him and Steve is so confused because he thought Eddie would be mad at him. He’s not sure why, it’s just that this has been such a deeply buried secret wrapped in shame for years with a big ‘do not talk or even think about it’ sign placed in front of it. That it would be met with laughter was never a possibility.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps through it, “It’s just such a cliche.”

Steve’s confused face only makes Eddie laugh harder. When he calms down he takes Steve's face in both his hands holding him firmly and looking him in the eyes.

“Steve, baby, sweetheart. Tommy used the oldest trick in the book on you, asking you to teach him how to kiss and you did it multiple times because what? he needed practice? That’s the flimsiest excuse to gay kiss your best friend and it’s also fucking done, it’s a cliche.”

Steve blinks, realizes that while he never had feelings for Tommy he had definitely found him attractive, had enjoyed kissing him. Had very deliberately not thought too deeply about his or Tommy's motives because that would have made it something he would have had to face.

“Oh,” he says.

Eddie smiles, wide and warm, “yeah, oh.”

“You don’t think I used him?” Steve has to ask, “if he had feelings for me and I didn’t have any for him.”

“No,” Eddie says, “not more than he did you. And you were kids, just messing around and trying to figure yourselves out in a not-very-accommodating world.”

Eddie squints a bit in thought, “though he probably thought you were more on the same page, that you could continue even though he was with Carol. Must have stung to be rejected.”

Steve snorts, “wasn’t really interested in helping anyone cheat, even under all the pretenses.”

“I know.” 

Eddie's eyes are soft, looking at him with so much warmth that Steve momentarily forgets what they were talking about until Eddie's mouth twists into a sly grin.

“I can’t believe your first gay experience was with Tommy fucking Hagan.”

Steve gives him an unimpressed look, “at least I didn’t come in my pants ten seconds in, like some people I know.”

Eddie draws back, clutching his chest with his hands, “harsh words, love. It was at least a minute.”

#the amount of times i used the word realize- Steve in this and kylie jenner in 2016 #🤝 realizing so much #listen Tommy being in love with Steve and them kissing as teenager just takes up such a specific part of my brain always #like look at them- they would okay #don't ask me what this is beyond that #Steve and Eddie are assholes together b #but only (mostly) when it's deserved #Dels steddie thoughts #My writing #my post #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #tommy hagan

[spqcebunsforever]

Finally Reunited

Pairing: LA Buggy x Reader

Summary: Y/n and Buggy used to be best friends when they were little but time split them apart but because Y/n is a part of a crew that contains a certain stretchy pirate who stole something that the clown pirate wants he and Y/n will be reuniting sooner rather than later.

Y/n's Pov

Me and Luffy have known each other from the very beginning. I was friends with Shanks and for some reason, Luffy admired him so he and I got very friendly and I grew to be very fond of the boy. Luffy since he was very little had always said that he wanted to be a pirate and join Shanks crew but he would always get turned down and always for the same reasons. I was there when he tried to poke his eye out to show how determined he was to be a pirate. I along with Shanks got him cleaned up and bandaged after it was tough trying to get him to realize that he was only a child and children couldn't be pirates.

I also remember the day Shanks had gone away to try to find the one piece he had come to say goodbye to me after he had spoken to Luffy and I remember him saying how devastated he was that he was never coming back. Shanks had always been brave even when we were growing up but along with that, he had always been stupid as well. "I can't believe you are going to really do this it's like you have a death wish" he just gave me a small smile "Yeah but just think about how cool I'll be when I find it". With tears in my eyes, I gave him the tightest hug I could give. I knew that this would maybe be the last hug that we ever share so I wanted to at least make it different from the rest.

A few years later Luffy had come up to me and told me that he was leaving to become a pirate and that he was going to create a crew and find the one piece. I was not about to let this boy that I had grown so fond of just leave so I packed all my stuff and told him that he had his first crew member. His smile was huge when I told him I was coming with him and that's what we did set off to go find the one piece. And that brings us to the present with Luffy jumping around on this boat that we stole and Nami trying to get the map to the grand line out of the safe.

When she finally opened the safe Luffy couldn't have been happier. Nami opened up the map and we all looked at it Zoro who had been taking a nap in the back had also come out to check out what was going on. Luffy asked Nami where exactly the grand line was so we followed her to the back so she could explain but while she was explaining we all heard bangs. Our first thoughts were that the Marines had caught up to us but when we got on the deck to see what was going on instead of cannon balls hitting us it was red smoke. Before I could even think about what was happening I felt my body go stiff and fall to the ground.

When I woke up I realized that I was on a bed and a very comfy one. Once my eyes had fully opened and were adjusted to the light I started looking around the room. It was a very nice room it had lots of gold stuff all around it, it looked like whoever owned the room was trying to impress someone. Before I could take another look around I heard the door creak open and I immediately moved back into the bed getting ready if I needed to fight. What I didn't expect to see was blue hair and a red nose from someone who I hadn't seen in years.

Buggy came into the room with a straight face I didn't like that whenever I had seen him he had always worn a smile but now it was completely different. "Ah, your awake good" I just continued staring at him so confused "Buggy is that you?". He walked further into the room and shut the door "Oh so you remember my name I'm surprised I thought you would have forgotten". I just again shot him a confused look "Of course I didn't forget your name why would you think that". His mood immediately changed from straight-faced and calm to rage "Why because you left me to go with Shanks!". I felt my eyes open in shock "What you know that's not true I didn't leave you for Shanks".

"Yes you did you left me for Shanks and betrayed me and to think that I ever liked you!" He realized what he had said and for a second we just stared at each other both our faces pink. Buggy put his hands over his face and slid down the bottom of the bed frame trying to hide himself. I couldn't help the small smile that appeared on my face he was still buggy.

I carefully moved closer to the bed frame still sitting on the bed. "Hey, you remember when we were little and we used to see how much food we could steal without getting caught by the chef". He didn't say anything but I knew he was listening "I remember because one night you had stolen 3 cookies from the boat's kitchen and I really wanted to beat you so I went down and tried to steal 4 but that's all that was left so in the morning the chef was so angry because he knew someone had stolen and before I could confess even though you knew I had done it you said you had done it and got toilet duty".

He still wasn't responding "Or I remember when you tried to open a door for me when we were younger but instead of opening you hit me with it and I ended up with a nose bleed and you started acting like I was dying asking if I was going to faint or if I was going to puke remember you carried me back to my bed after that as well you told everyone you didn't care but that night you brought me soup to make me feel better".

I started giggling at the memory but he still hadn't moved from his position hiding at the bottom of the bed frame. I started to think of something that I could say and then it hit me. "But my favorite memory from when we were little was when we were stargazing on the ship I think that one is my favorite because that night was actually the night I admitted to myself that I liked you". I felt my face again turn pink finally admitting that to him but I heard him move and his head popped up making eye contact with me.

"Is that true did you really like me". I just playfully rolled my eyes "Yes of course I liked you and listen I'm really sorry if I made you feel like I ditched you for Shanks and I'm sorry that I left you in general I should have stayed with you". Buggy then moved onto the bed with me sitting in front of me. "As long as you say you like me more than Shanks I will forgive you". I touched his cheek with my right hand "I like you way more than I like Shanks hell Bugs I love you". He accepted my touch and put his hand on mine. "Now could you please tell me where the rest of my crew are" Buggy rolled his eyes "Why are you a part of their crew come join mine we can be happy just us together".

I really thought about it I really did but I had to shake my head. "Not now bugs I need to make sure that he stays safe if the offer still stands in the future I'll of course join but I just need to make sure that he doesn't kill himself first". Buggy looked a little bummed but still gave me a smile "The offer will always stand for you no matter what". I gave him a quick peck on the cheek "Well now please show me to my crew so we can as nicely as we can kick your butt". Buggy got up and opened the door for me and this time I didn't get hit. As we were walking out buggy put his arm around my shoulder and gave me a smirk. "Yeah, I'd like to see you try sweetheart".

#live action one piece #buggy the clown #captain buggy #Live action Buggy #buggy x reader

[petalsofyouth]

limerence; and it goes both ways | ran haitani x reader

tw: unestablished relationship, smoking, mentions of usage of weed, sexual activity (it's not really detailed, but it is, haha) /i think that's it, but i probably missed something as i usually do, so please do tell me if you think i forgot something/

wc: 28 128

author's note: ran was supposed to be extremely toxic in this, but he isn't. we'll meet the version of ran i initially intend in another story. oh, and they all are in universities, so it's uni au, no usual gangs activities.

i.

Aoki Ogura is perfect, or so Ran thinks.

She says her first name is spelled with kanji that mean 'a little love,' and her last name means 'tiny' and 'blue.' She giggles as she says it, staring with her beautiful eyes at Ran. She might like him, and he might like her too.

Or even more.

Ran thinks he is in love with the girl in front of him, and it doesn't really matter that he has only seen her twice in his life: once when Rindou was picking him up from rehearsals for dinner and Ran happened to tag along, and today, for the second time, at someone's party in Kamakura.

He doesn't dare to say it aloud yet, but he already calls it fate. Ran is quick to assume.

He chats up this pretty, perfect girl, leaning down to her so she can hear him over 'Cherry Girl' by Black Cherry, which is playing too loudly for Ran's taste. But today he won't complain and whine about it as he usually would've, because this works exactly in his favor, creating the much-desired proximity between his body and Aoki's. They are really really close.

Her body is nice too. She's wearing a white summer dress that hugs her shoulders and waist so tightly that Ran doesn't need much imagination to have her undressed before him. Besides, he knows that Aoki is a dance major. A nice body is a given. He has hooked up with girls from the dance department before. He has never been disappointed once.

Right now, though, he feels like the happiest person at this party in the house that is too small for so many people. His chest is burning, and a smile blooms by itself. Aoki is telling him about her white cat, and Ran, who has never before been very enthusiastic about animals, nods at her, agreeing that cats are the best pets to have.

By the end of their conversation, Ran forgets that he always wanted to have a dog and that his favorite color was never blue, but white and purple.

ii.

Rindou doesn't share his brother's enthusiasm about Aoki.

He doesn't think she's cute, beautiful, or even talented. He has spoken to her before numerous times, and the only thing he remembers is the deep irritation he felt as she spoke in that high-pitched voice of hers that every J-idol claims to have. If she weren't your friend - of a sort - he would never entertain her with his company.

But you are classmates, and you are Rindou's best friend, and he loves you too much to ruin your somewhat good relationship with Aoki.

So when he spots his brother's face with the softest expression he has ever had while he talks to Aoki, Rindou is beyond disgusted. Blame it on alcohol or real physical disturbance from the unfolding scene, but Rindou gets nauseous and, closing his mouth with his hand, retreats to the back of the house in the direction of the beach. All the toilets are occupied anyway.

It's not long after he is done, and the rusty taste fills his mouth, that you appear with a bottle of sparkling water and mints in the pocket of your leather pants. He can see the outline of the box there, and he shoots you a half-smile, knowing well that you stole those from the cupboard in the hall of Ryou's house.

"Are you good?" you ask, squatting down near him. You pass him a bottle of water and watch him as he drinks it to the end.

"Yeah. I am okay," he hums appreciatively and takes a candy from the box. They aren't minty. They are strawberry flavoured. He likes these. "Thank you. You are a real-life angel."

You don't reply. Just nod at him and peer in front of you at the vast darkness where the sea and the sky are one black hole; your eyes are the same.

The music from the house is distant, and it feels as if you and Rindou are somewhere far away from this place, only the two of you in your own little world where no one and nothing can touch you. However, this is not true, and Ran is the one to prove it. If there's someone more worthy of this role for shattering illusions than Ran, Rindou doesn't know them yet.

"I've told you not to mix weed and alcohol," Ran sighs, standing behind you both. He doesn't sit down or come closer, and yet his presence is suffocating.

You turn your head, disappointment written all over your face, and Rindou wonders why it is that you are disappointed. Is it because instead of words of consolation, Ran is quick to assume? Or maybe because you just don't want him here? Or perhaps it's for your own reason that you hide deep in your chest, unknown to him?

You and Ran aren't really friends, but you aren't on bad terms either, nor could your relationship be called neutral. It is whatever it is - the mess, the chaos, and the calm understanding.

"We weren't smoking, Ran." Your lower lip quivers, and your eyes are squinted. Finally, you are disgusted with him, but out of habit, you call him by his name. There's something Rindou knows you won't admit, but you like Ran's name a lot. Otherwise, why would you say it so often? "Why are you even here? Shouldn't you be entertaining your bimbos?"

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your red-haired celebrity?" Ran shoots back, taking a step closer in your direction, and if he wants to be intimidating, it doesn't work on you.

"First of all, Haru's hair is pink. Secondly, he isn't even here. And lastly, are you colourblind, by any chance, Ran? That would explain this atrocious outfit…"

The sentence is never finished because Ran yanks you by the elbow and pinches your arm. Hard. You yelp and barely stand on your wobbly legs that hurt from squatting for too long. Ran steadies you, helping you not to fall down on your ass as he holds each of your arms in his hands. Your eyes meet. Yours furious and his calm but curious.

You open your mouth to say something, probably unpleasant, but Rindou cuts in. "Stop pinching her."

"Okay. I am sorry." Ran still holds you by your arms, his hands warming your cold skin where he touches you. When you scoff and attempt to break free, he doesn't let go. He tugs you closer. "I really am. See."

Fatigue from emptying his stomach only a few minutes earlier returns when Rindou stands up. His vision goes blurry for a second. The world spins around him, and the music and you and Ran are a beautiful smudged carousel. He grounds himself, breathing in and out. In and out. More than anything, he doesn't want to puke again.

But when the world clears, and he sees Ran rubbing soothing gentle circles on the place on your arm where he pinched you, he wishes he puked. It's even worse looking at him being tender with you than dumbstruck by Aoki. With you, it's gut-wrenching.

"You know, Ran, I prefer it more when you are rude to me than whatever this was," you exclaim, but if you were angry before, you aren't now. You break free from him and come to Rindou's side. You take a good look at his face and cupping it, brush long blonde hair away from his eyes, spreading them all the way to the back of his head. "Do you want to go eat something? Maybe ramen? Hm? No. Actually, you should eat ochazuke now, and then we'll get you that vitamin thing from 7-Eleven. Okay? So you won't have a hangover tomorrow."

Rindou is not that drunk. He only had two cans of beer and a shot of vodka. But he doesn't argue with you. After all, he is used to you babying him from time to time. He hated it at first, but hate is nothing more than love that you can't untangle just yet. He nods at you and steals a box of strawberry candies from your pocket, popping one into his mouth. They are indeed nice.

As you leave the party, your arms linked, Ran follows behind you both. He wasn't invited to your little late dinner or early breakfast, but he assumes he is coming because he is the one with the car.

Well, if anything, Ran is quick to assume. iii.

Inside the diner, it's warm, and the air is rich with the smell of delicious food.

You sit beside Rindou on red cushions and watch him eat ochazuke with unagi and nori. Ran is sitting across from you, his plate of shoyu ramen untouched. He's waiting for it to cool down a bit. He claims that hot food never sits well in his stomach. For one reason or another, you don't believe it's true; it's probably another white lie.

In your opinion, Ran is woven with lies—innocent and not. As long as those lies don't harm you, you're fine with them.

The diner you're in is the usual one you always stop by after Ryou's parties. It's small, cheap, and the food is always fresh and tasty. It's in Kanagawa, near Shirahataike Park. If Ran weren't with you and Rindou didn't throw up earlier, you would've asked Rindou to go there and lie down on the grass near the pond, maybe smoke one or two of your specially reserved "Seven Stars" until dawn found you there and it got too cold. He, of course, would have agreed. He always does. It's more of a habit now. A little custom that's only yours.

Out of the blue, Ran asks, "On what days does the dance department practice?"

With a spoon between your lips, you frown. You shoot a quick glance at Rindou and catch how quickly his eyes harden, his mouth becoming a thin line. Oh, so Rindou knows the reason for the question, and while you might not, you have your suspicions.

"So? Who's your next victim, Ran?" you ask and put the spoon down in the bowl with the thick brown broth. You and Ran ordered the same.

"Why victim?" His eyes widen in surprise, and he looks quite comical.

You tilt your head to the side and laugh. Rindou near you is smiling too, but for a different reason than you suppose. "Just tell me who you want to hook up with, and maybe I'll give you her number."

"Actually, you know what? I can just ask myself."

"You sure can," you reply, shrugging your shoulders and in the next minute, you forget all about Ran's question as you turn to Rindou and ask him if he finished that music assignment he was working on. You say that today you talked to Ryou, and he had almost finished his.

The conversation between you and Rindou flows as effortlessly as ever. You discuss your classes, assignments, and even gossip about your mutual friends and people you don't even know the names of. You laugh a lot, and a couple of times, you get too serious, needing a pause before picking up the conversation again. You enjoy these two hours spent at the diner more than you enjoyed the party itself.

When the sky is flushed with pink and blue, you decide to call it a night. Rindou excuses himself to the restroom, and you find yourself with Ran standing on the porch of the ramen shop. It's raining a little, but the air is fresh, smelling of grass and soil. It smells like new beginnings and the meaning of life. You catch yourself thinking that for the first time in a long while, you're truly happy.

Sometimes, life is worth it all.

"Do you like the color blue?"

"What?" You stop swaying on your tiptoes and tuck your hands into the pockets of your jacket. It's mid-April, but still a bit chilly. "Do I like the color blue?"

"Yeah. Do you?"

"Depends on the shade of blue. It can be the happiest or the saddest color in the world. I need to know which shade of blue you mean, Ran." You contemplate it for a moment and then shake your head, quickly adding, "No. I don't think I actually like any color at all. Maybe just white and black."

"Aren't those two colors too?"

Your lips curve into a smile, and you look down at your tabi boots, thrifted from a vintage shop in Nakano. The shop owner told you, it once was his wife’s boots and she got them in Belgium in 1994. It was her favourite pair of shoes, but she died recently and he can’t bring himself to keep them around. He said that he wanted these stupid tabi boots to continue living on and bring happiness to other people even if his own wife was beyond the point of any human emotion.

"No, they aren't, really," you whisper, more to yourself than to Ran. "It's the absence of color that I like. It's like none of them exist."

The rain continues to pour until the afternoon, and then it suddenly stops, as if it was never there.

iv.

Ran had never longed for a girl before.

The feeling is new, and it is unpleasant. He doesn't understand why he keeps thinking about her and why he wants to hear her voice again. The fact that he couldn't remember what they were talking about at the party doesn't matter. Ran never remembers conversations he had with girls. He only remembers Aoki's plump, pink lips and her sweet, pretty eyes.

He needs to see her now. Today.

But unfortunately for him, he doesn't study at your university, and tagging along with Rindou to pick you up after your classes might be suspicious. Besides, Aoki might not even be there.

He doesn't want to ask you about Aoki either. It's stupid, really. He has asked you about multiple girls from your class before, but right now, he feels that asking about precious Aoki might spoil everything. Ran wants everything to be perfect because he thinks he was in love.

Having you as a connection to Aoki is like having no connection at all.

So, he tries the only remedy he knows—sex. And when that only blows off steam for a couple of days, a week at best, he does something he has never done before: he studies.

That's how you found him one day as you stop by their apartment to pick Rindou up so you can have your lunch together. Ran guesses he looks ridiculous in his grey sweatpants and old, loose T-shirt, surrounded by piles of books and handouts. Otherwise, why would you smile at him?

"Didn't know you were such a fan of studying, Ran," you say, dragging his name out and he rolls his eyes at you. If you want to mock him, you need to try harder. "Why don't you join us for lunch? Have you eaten already?"

"Not interested," he replies, not tearing his eyes away from the handouts with case-study before him.

"Oh, really? Too bad. I thought you might want to see Aoki Ogura again."

As Ran lifts his eyes to take a look at your face, to see if you were being serious or messing with him, you aren't there anymore. He catches a glimpse of your back disappearing through Rindou's door and hears his brother cursing at you for scaring him.

You close the door as you get in.

v.

Of course, Ran tails for the lunch with you, and of course, it annoys Rindou.

It's not that he doesn't enjoy hanging out with his brother—he pretty much does, and yet, he prefers having his own circle of friends to himself. You and Haruchiyo were his sacred zone. Only his to enjoy and spend time together with.

With Ran and Aiko and Aiko’s new boyfriend Takeshi, lunch gets awkward. Not because Ran is upset or mad or anything of the sort, but because Aoki gets flustered when she sees Ran and despite bragging to you before that she is so in love with Takeshi - you have told that to Rindou over another lunch on another Sunday - she sits between you and Haruchiyo, leaving Rindou to sit next to her stupid boyfriend.

"How did you two get together?" Ran asks Aoki, his voice dripping with sweetness. He chews on a yellow plastic straw that smells of fresh orange juice. "The last time we saw each other, you were single, or am I wrong?"

Aoki giggles, and her doll-like face turns pink. "We met at the party a week after Ryou's. I thought you would have come. That's why I went."

"Me?" Ran raises his eyebrows and takes a big sip of juice from the glass, ignoring the forgotten straw on the marble table. "Why would I?"

"Probably because I was invited, but I didn't end up going. I heard that party was a huge flop. What happened?" Already tired of the meaningless and obviously flirtatious exchange, Rindou cuts in, shifting Aoki's attention from Ran to him.

The girl sighs and, before replying, cuts a small piece of her vanilla cheesecake and puts it in her mouth, chewing. Pretentious little bitch. "You probably don't know them, but Shota from the second-year oil painting class got into a fight with Rintaro from the first-year dance class. They say Shota's girl cheated on him. Wasn't much of a fight, though."

"Bullshit. I know Rintaro pretty well, and he never laid a finger on that girl."

"Oh, really? I heard they made a tape with her."

"Like a sex tape?"

"Yes. I haven't seen it, but they say it was..."

"Cut the bullshit, Ogura." Haruchiyo is too loud as he defends his friend for the second time. A couple seated nearby turns their heads toward your table, intrigued by the sudden commotion. "It wasn't him in the video."

"You talk like you're familiar with his dick," the smirk on Takeshi’s full lips is not meant to be perceived as a mocking one, Rindou really wants to think it’s not, but before he or either anyone else reacts, you laugh and your laugh is cruel and cold.

"If Haru says it wasn't Rintaro, then it wasn't Rintaro. Why the dick comment?"

"Just joking. Right, baby?" Takeshi shoots a toothy smile at Aoki, who sheepishly nods. Rindou wishes you hadn't invited her to lunch. It should've been just you, him, and Haruchiyo. "But I still find it strange that he's so sure it wasn't him in the video. It was just a guy's dick sliding in and out."

"I've never seen the video."

"So you believe whatever he says?" “Oh, God. It’s annoying.” You whine. You lick your lips and stare straight at Takeshi who is right in front of you. Your eyes are black and endless, bottomless, reminiscent of that party where Rindou threw up, where Ran saw Aoki for the second time, and where this mess began. “So, say, your friend comes to you and says he didn’t do it, but everyone else says he did it. Who do you believe? Your friend or them?

Takeshi doesn't hesitate in his response. "A lot of people can't be wrong, right?"

A small little cloud of air escapes your mouth, and your body that has been strained like a tightrope, is now limp in the chair. You look tired. Rindou wants to ask if you're okay, but he refrains. Besides, you start speaking again, this time not looking at Takeshi but at the blue summer sky above you. "Nah. I think they can be wrong. If Rindou or Haru tell me they didn't do it, that's all I need to know. No one can convince me they did it if they say they didn't. So if Haru says it wasn't Rintaro, then it wasn't fucking Rintaro in the video."

For the rest of the lunch, you don't speak much, and Rindou is concerned. He doesn't like it when you get quiet, as it usually means you're sad. More than anything in this world, Rindou hates it when you crawl inside the small room in your heart and lock the door from the inside. It’s the one place he can never reach.

He will never be there for you. Sure, you love each other, but there are places in you that he won’t ever have an access to. He is not the only one who notices the change in your mood. There’s Haruchiyo who brings you into conversation every chance he gets and smiles at you so brightly you totally find it annoying and then there’s Ran, who hasn't taken his eyes off you, since your little quarrel with Takeshi. It's a Ran, Rindou has never seen before - calm, defenceless, and so very curious. He too isn’t participating in the conversation as much as he was before. Only occasionally when he is directly addressed to would he say something, but other than that he remains silent, vigilant over you. It's as if he's afraid that if he looks away, even for a second, you might slip away from him. The sun is close enough to jump behind the horizon to wake up another part of the world when you stand up from the table. The chair screeches against the pavement as you drag it. The sound is jarring, but the entire street is bathed in gentle golden glow, and to Rindou, you look the most beautiful in this moment, even with sadness resting inside you.

"I think I'll head out. I wanted to practice for the showcase," you say, picking up your bag from the floor. Before Rindou or Haruchiyo can say anything, you wave at them. "No need to walk with me. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

Neither of them protests. Both know it won't lead to anything. They give you space when you need it. Around midnight both of them will call you anyway to check if you are still at the campus studio, and if you are, they'll come to pick you up and take you home.  They'll both call you around midnight to check if you're still at the campus studio, and if you are, they'll come to pick you up and take you home.

So you bid everyone farewell, leave money on the table, and head on your way.

As Rindou watches you walk down the street, he wishes he could fall in love with you and you with him. Then, everything would be simple, and you wouldn't be sad, and tears wouldn't mar your pretty face.

But this dream will remain just that—a dream, a mere thought in his mind that will never fully bloom.

His little sacred wish.

vi.

No one is at the university, and it's not surprising. It's Sunday, and it's almost summer. Everyone has better things to do.

Even you. You could have stayed with your friends and then invited yourself over to Haru's place and watched a movie with him or maybe read a book in solemn silence, eating homemade sandwiches without cheese. There is never any cheese at his house since he is intolerant, but it doesn't bother you. Not even a little.

Or, you could have gone with Rindou to the cinema and stayed over at his apartment. He would let you take his bed and then complain about a backache the next morning. He'd promise to make Ran buy a more comfortable couch, but the next time you'll visit, it will still be that white sofa they bought at a discount from some local shop in Roppongi. You'll point it out - you always do - and Rindou will say that it's actually quite okay and he just wanted to get your attention. You'll pinch him then.

And, of course, the three of you could've crashed at your place or gone together to the studio where you would've taught them some choreography. Haruchiyo would give up first; he is really stiff when it comes to dancing. But Rindou would surprisingly be good, and you would praise him, making him really happy about it.

But you made your choice, and now you are all alone in the studio, and the sun has already set. You dwell a little bit on what made you so upset earlier, but these thoughts - ugly worms - crack open old, forgotten scars, and they bleed. You don't know how to stop them, so you blast music at full volume and dance.

Dance is your sanity, your method of salvation, and your coping strategy. You dance and dance, and you don't stop until it hurts to breathe, and only then do you collapse onto the floor. The hundreds of you in the ceiling-to-floor mirrors do the same. They smile at you and they were smiling as you were dancing, and you suppose you did too, but unfortunately you can’t remember it, and therefore, it never happened.

The door cracks open while you're lying on the floor. You don't turn around to see who it is. Somehow, you know it's him.

It's Ran.

"Is purin daifuku your favorite, or did I mess up, and you won't let me stay?"

Food as a bargain is a bit outdated. For Ran it’s even quite a bit lame. You don't buy it, not for a single second. Because Ran himself is a white lie, a spider web of confusion [in which he pulls you in].

The heavy iron door doesn't make a sound as he shuts it behind him, and you gently close your eyes. Your eyelids fall as they would if you had fallen asleep in your tiny rented apartment in Nippori. It's an act of surrender, almost as if you're giving him the reins, but you doubt he understands it, and so it's alright.

The bags in his hands rustle, and you catch a slight smell of tuna. What has he brought? And why? The second question is the most important, so that's what you ask.

"What do you want? Aoki won't come today or ever. She doesn't practice much."

"Who said I came for her?" Ran counters, and you hear him settling down next to you. You hear the bag being ripped open and try to predict his moves. It's a silly game, but you let yourself indulge in it. You imagine him taking out the food and sitting in a lotus pose to your left. Does he glance at you? Only briefly. There's nothing new or exciting for him to see.

You'll never know if you're right in your guessing game, and you're not very interested. There's no prize to it, anyway.

"You didn't?"

"No. I came to see you."

You sigh, and his indirect lie makes you take a deep breath before opening your eyes and rolling your head to the side, so you can have a good look at him. "Don't lie to me, Ran. There's no point. Just tell me what you want."

He stops whatever he was doing, and his face, so uncharacteristically gentle in this moment, shows surprise. "What would I want from you? There's literally nothing I need from you. I just came here to see you. That's all."

His words are both hurtful and pleasant. Ran Haitani is a duality of a man. He is both white and black. The absence and richness in one body.

You sigh again, this time more disappointed, and leaning your body on your palms, you sit in the same pose as Ran. He still looks at you, his gaze unwavering and searching. A question seems to be on the tip of his tongue, but his lips pressed into a thin line keep it at bay. Only when you look down, your mouth falling open, your eyes widening in awe, does he continue the task of taking the food out of the bag.

"You clearly want something. It's my favorite food. Everything here is what I like."

"So you do like purin daifuku?"

"I do." You nod, reaching out for the bag of caramel corn chips. The flavour is almond caramel, your favourite. "Did Rindou tell you to come here?"

"No. He doesn't even know I came to see you. He's staying over at Akashi's today." He takes out a pair of wooden chopsticks and shoves them your way. A plate of the finest sashimi sits between the two of you. "Stop acting like that. You make me regret coming here. Doesn't my brother spoil you?"

"It's Rindou. Of course, he does." You fall silent as you break the glued-together chopsticks into two pieces. Ran does the same. "It's just different when you do it. Until last year, I thought you didn't even know my name."

"You're being stupid, you know? Of course, I always knew your name." He shakes his head and laughs, and the insult he directed at you a moment ago doesn't feel like an insult at all. Just a little teasing, nothing more. And that’s why you don’t bite back.

Silence envelops you as you eat. No one comes to the studio, and you hear nothing other than the sound of you and Ran chewing. He doesn't speak much, only praising the food he brought and mentioning that he got the sashimi from his favourite restaurant in Roppongi. He promises to tell Rindou to take you there, and he promises to come along. You tell him that you hope he's good with promises because the sashimi is really good, and you wouldn't mind having it again.

But when, after some time, you ask him again why he's here, he merely hums and ignores the question.

"Aoki asked me about you a few weeks ago. We don't share many classes, and we aren't friends, but she knows Rindou is my best friend. So she asked me about you when she saw me." It's another silly guessing game. This time, you try to pinpoint the reason for him being there with you, and if it's not about Aoki, then you're lost. Gladly, there won't be any retributions; just as there won't be any prizes. "She told me she spoke to you at Ryou's party and that she thought you might have liked her, so she asked me to link you two because she liked you too. I told her she should come for lunch with us. She never mentioned she had a boyfriend, though. And then..."

"I liked what you said to him back at the cafe."

"Didn't you hear what I just said, Ran?"

"I did. Did you hear what I said?" On his lips is a playful smile, but his eyes are relaxed and drowsy, and he is looking at you as if seeing you for the very first time. It might be it, but you won’t ask why he saw you only now and he won’t ever say it.

"Yeah, I did. We need to clean everything up here and get going. It's probably around ten now."

He agrees, and together you collect the trash and leftover food. The unfinished snacks and greasy chopsticks go into the paper bag with the restaurant's name on it. For some reason, you fixate on it, trying to commit the name to memory, repeating it over and over in your head.

Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi. Fukuzushi.

Retreating into your thoughts won't help you, just as it never had before, and certainly not now, not with Ran, who can access every sacred part of you.

You can't hide from him. He'll find you.

"Can I come to your place? I don't want to go home to an empty apartment just yet. It's completely fine if you say no. I'll understand."

"Don't be silly, Ran. Why not? I'd be bored at home alone too."

You're always before him.

vii.

It's his first time in your apartment, yet it feels like he's been here before.

Even though he knows very well that he hasn't.

There's no recollection of your old worn-out black leather couch, mahogany table, or the floor-to-ceiling bookshelf that stands half-empty, most of the books lying on the floor near it instead of being placed on the shelves. He can't remember the two bar stools near the kitchen island, and he definitely shouldn't recognise your bedroom, the only separate room in your apartment.

And yet, he does.

The sound of water splashing across the tiles doesn't drown out your singing, and as Ran traces his fingers across every single object in your house, he listens to your voice, which somehow feels familiar to him too. Maybe it's what they call deja-vu, or perhaps it's a sense of belonging. It's peculiar and it's strange, and too difficult for him to comprehend, so he locks it in the back of his mind.

While waiting for you to come out from the shower, he occupies himself with a book that was lying on the kitchen island. It has a bookmark inside - a polaroid picture of his brother's smiling face. Rindou is being hugged from behind by you, your body looming over him. Your head is tilted down, so he can't make out your expression, but he has a hunch you were both smiling. You always smile around Rindou.

Ran has always wondered why the two of you aren't dating. He asks you just that as you're making cherry tea for both of you in the kitchen.

Before answering, you roll your eyes at him. "We don't see each other in that way. I mean… No. I can imagine dating him, but I don't see it leading us anywhere. I love Rindou too much to risk losing him, and I don't really love him in that romantic way. You know what I mean."

Love is a foreign concept to Ran, and even now that he thinks he might be in love with Aoki, he doesn't believe he understands what you mean. To him, love is love. It either exists in you or it doesn’t. You either feel it for someone or you don't. With all these ways and methods, you're just overcomplicating something that shouldn't be difficult in the first place. "What about Haru then?"

"Haru?" You place a white mug with tea in front of him. It smells really good - sweet and pleasant, somehow just like you. "We kissed once, but we were really drunk, and it was a bet. It didn't feel like anything. I doubt Haru even remembers it."

"Have you kissed Rindou then too?"

"No." As if deeply offended, you frown at Ran, then hop onto a bar stool and look to your right at the dark window, its reflection showing the compact room you're in. He might be imagining things, but he swears you're looking at him through the reflection. "I would never. Anyway, don't you want to know what else Aoki said to me about you?"

Ran licks his lips, not responding immediately. He watches you, observing your gaze fixed on the room's reflection, and takes a sip of the tea. The tea is hot and a big gulp he takes burns his throat. "This tea is delicious. Where did you get it from?" When you turn your head, and he meets your eyes - empty, sad, and meaningful - it startles him. He adds, "No, I don't want to talk about her at all."

"I'm sorry. I thought you might want to know what else she said to me." You tilt your head, offering him a smile. In this moment, you remind him of something he once lost. It's a huge relief knowing he won't ever need to search for it again. "You can stay the night if you want. You look really sleepy, Ran. It probably won't be safe for you to drive."

"Can I take a shower then?"

"Yes, and I probably have some of Rindou's sweats lying around. You can sleep in them if you'd like."

Ran chuckles, standing up. The tea is nearly finished, and his throat, still tingling from the burn, makes him aware of its warmth. "Do you have a lot of Rindou's clothes here?"

"A couple of sweatpants, t-shirts, and his contact lenses."

He nods, more to himself than to you, making a mental note  to ask his brother why he doesn't date you.

You seem like a really nice girl.

The sky is black when Ran wakes up in your bed, his arms and legs tangled in your sheets. Your scent, sweet and fresh, envelops him, and he takes a deep breath, letting the air stay in his lungs for as long as he can. He prefers his own bed with its silky appearance and soft mattress, but yours isn’t half as bad. He doesn’t regret staying.

You aren't beside him as you promised you'd be in a few hours after reading your book. You said you didn't mind sharing the same bed. You said you and Rindou always shared the bed when necessary.

You said, you said, you said.

To him, it doesn't matter much where you'd sleep – in your bed or on that monstrosity of a sofa. What matters, and stings, is that you said you would come, and you still aren't here. His eyes barely open as he shifts and turns to the right, spotting a small patch of light coming from the living room [which isn't just a living room but also a kitchen and a hallway].

Peeling the creamy comforter off himself, Ran yawns and gets up. His body, still warm from sleep, stiffens immediately when met with the cool air. The window in the room is open, and he swears under his breath, not recalling whether it was him who didn't close it or you who opened it after he fell asleep.

His feet on the wooden floor, he takes one step and then another, and soon you are before him. You stir a bit, as if annoyed by his presence, your fingers clutching the book tighter as if afraid it might be snatched away from you. Your sudden hostility doesn't deter him, and he rubs his eyes as he mumbles, his voice deep and groggy, "What time is it?"

The night is deep and dark when he notices your glossy eyes and wet cheeks. The reflection on the window, one he got used to, isn't there anymore. Only an eternal void, an absence of everything. You once told him you like black and white because they aren't really colours, because it was like they don’t even exist. He didn't retort back then, but now he knows better than that.

Black and white are the brightest, and you exist in them.

"What's wrong?" Ran suppresses another yawn. Sleep still lingers on the tip of his tongue, in the corners of his mind.

As expected, you don't say anything. You're like a statue of melted ugly wax, yet to Ran, you're incredibly beautiful.

He needs to know what upset you. [So it won’t ever again].

"Is the book sad?" he asks, sitting on the floor next to your bare legs.

"No, it's not," you whisper, closing your eyes. More tears escape, and Ran catches them with his outstretched palm. Your quivering lips and salty cheeks make you look too innocent between his hands. "I think I made it sad."

"You made it sad? How?"

"Because it's a nice book about people living their lives and being happy. But all I could think about was how mundane and ordinary it was, and I couldn't understand why they were so happy. Then I thought that I, too, lead the same life. It's a never-ending cycle of the same things." A sob tears away from your chest and comes alive. Ran's heart breaks a little. He doesn't know why. He doesn't have time to ponder why. "Ran. Am I thinking too much into it?"

"I don't think so. No." He shakes his head and, with the last wipe of his fingers across your cheeks, stands up. "Not really. But I don't think your life is all that ordinary."

"You don't think so?" You sound expectant and hopeful. His heart cracks a bit more.

"I don't think so." Gently, he takes the book from you and slips his hand into yours. Your hand is cold. "You're studying to be a professional dancer, Rin is your best friend, and that 'red guy' is almost a celebrity. And now you're going to sleep in the same bed with your best friend's brother. Now, tell me, how is this an ordinary life?"

This makes you laugh. The ice is melting, and the darkness recedes.

Soon, it will be dawn.

He helps you stand up, holding you by your hands, and together you return to the bedroom. He lets you take the side of the bed closest to the wall. You hesitate for a moment, but then you slip under the creamy blanket, your head and body disappearing beneath it. Now it's his turn to laugh. You remind him of Rindou. He used to do the same thing when he was little, back when they were poor and lived in their old apartment, sharing a bed because that and the broken table was all they had.

The memory itself isn't bad, but it's sad, and the nostalgia it carries isn't to Ran's taste. Your sheets still hold his warmth, providing a welcoming feeling. He tugs at the comforter and lifts it off you. "Don't hide. Wanna see you."

"Do you often sleep with girls?" Your cheeks are tear stained and they shine under the forgotten light of the lamp still on in the living room.

Ran turns, lying on his side to face you. Your hot breath grazes his mouth, carrying scents of cherry tea and summer and something salty. "Are you asking about sleeping as in sex, or sleeping as in just sharing a bed?"

"Sleeping as in just sharing a bed. Like what we're doing now."

He doesn't notice you reaching out to undo his braids and when he finally does, he stops breathing, taken aback by the unexpected yet pleasant sensation. He lets you continue, because, contrary to what he might expect, it feels good – almost caring – like someone finally cared enough to untie his long hair so his head wouldn't hurt in the morning.

"You'll be the first," he breathes out, his eyes half-closed as he watches your fingers dance through his hair. If not for the complete silence that reigns in your apartment, you probably wouldn't hear his words at all.

But he's mistaken, and you prove him wrong. "In moments like this, doesn't it feel like we're the only people in the world? Like it's just us and this apartment, and nothing more?"

"It does." He easily agrees.

You hum in response and he can sense that you are far far away from him, already hopping on to your next thought, pondering over something that he doesn’t understand or maybe doesn’t want to. He wants to bring you back to him, so he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his nose grazing your sensitive skin, and your goosebumps become his. He smiles, leaving traces of his happiness – ordinary or not – on you, and you return to the real world, freed from the constraints of your mind.

"Good night, Ran. I'll make us breakfast in the morning."

"And I'll take you out for coffee after breakfast."

"Thank you."

He wants to ask what for, but the sky will soon turn blue and he doesn’t want that. He wants this night to carry on forever.

With his arms around your waist, he falls asleep.

viii.

"Hey, Rin, I've got a question, but promise me you won't get mad."

The black sports bag sitting on the unmade bed contains sneakers, two t-shirts, sweats, and a large white towel. In fifteen minutes, he should be out of the house to catch the bus to the gym and meet up with Kakucho on time. Missing the bus would mean being half an hour late. Kakucho, of course, will wait for him, but then later today he promised you he’ll take you out for ice-cream.

Unlike Kakucho, however, you wouldn't wait, and to pick you up from the dance studio on campus without delay, he couldn't afford to miss the bus that would take him to the gym.

Ten more minutes. He needs to put on his shoes.

"So?"

In the doorway to his room, leaning against the doorframe, stands Ran. He's not wearing a t-shirt, and his hair is disheveled, with a sleepy look on his annoyingly handsome face. He probably just woke up.

"What do you want?" Rindou doesn't mean to be rude, but he's in a rush, and Ran has a tendency to take his sweet time with everything.

"I told you. I have a question for you."

"Yeah? I'm listening."

Rindou zips up the bag and strides over to his brother, heading straight for the door. He grabs a pair of blue Adidas and sits on the floor to put them on. Ran follows closely behind him.

"It's about your best friend."

"What about her?" The bus, the gym, and Kakucho are forgotten. Rindou tenses up. Everything that comes out of Ran's mouth is tainted. He stares at the laces on his sneakers, hands momentarily frozen. "What do you want to know?" “Do you like her?” “Why?” Finally, Rindou raises his head up. Ran towers over him. Hands locked on his chest. Not an ounce of usual laziness in his curious waiting eyes.

"Just curious. You seem close, and she's a really nice girl. Why haven't you two started dating?"

Five more minutes. If he’d be late, you’ll mask your sadness by your anger, and the world will turn bitter.

The best option right now would be to lie to Ran. To say, I'm sorry, I'll be late. We'll talk about it later. To come up with some nonsensical excuse and make him believe it. To protect you.

Rindou does nothing of that. He sees his brother's expectant face and takes a deep breath, knowing that he'll tell the truth. He holds out his hand, and Ran reaches out to him, allowing Rindou to steady himself, pulling him to his feet.

"I wish I liked her, but I love her. And love is never simple, is it? We're better off as friends. I care about her too much to risk spoiling our friendship."

"Oh, I see." An appreciative, contented hum escapes Ran's thin lips. "Maybe you're just… Anyway, forget I asked anything. Are you going to the gym? Tell Kaku I said hello."

Maybe you just... what? But Rindou doesn't ask. He nods, waves at his brother, and with his gym bag in hand, rushes out of the house. Down the stairs and onto the street.

He watches the bus pass by a few meters away from the bus stop.

ix.

The cigarette between your fingers carries the scent of tobacco and vanilla.

You hate smoking and yet you bring the cigarette to your lips and inhale the bitter sweetness into your lungs. It awakens your cloudy mind and burns your body from the inside. You are a room full of pale smoke and hate it all you want, there’s nothing you can really do about this nasty habit of yours.

You hate dancing too and yet you dance every single day. That’s the irony of it all, you think. Being doomed to doing what you hate for the rest of your life. Making it your legacy and descending into the abyss of eternity with it.

You despise dancing at parties, yet you find yourself dancing every single day anyway. The irony isn't lost on you. Being trapped in doing something you detest for the rest of your life. Making it your legacy and descending into the abyss of eternity with it.

The music has turned down, but your head still throbs with every thought. It's painful, but this particular hurt feels borderline nice and relaxing. Almost like returning home after a long day of dance practice – utterly exhausted, yet content. You hum along to the rhythm, shifting in the corner of a bright red velvet sofa. You can't recall whose house you're in right now; it was one of Haruchiyo's friends, but he has too many for you to remember them all.

"Care to explain why the eldest Haitani can't take his eyes off you today?" Talk of the devil, and he is sure to appear. Even though Haruchiyo is more like an angel. With his sweet pink hair and easy smile, he settles on the back of the sofa, leaning against you. His voice sounds as soothing as a cat's purr. "Girls are furious with you. Overheard a few of them calling you names."

You don’t need to turn around and see his bloodshot eyes to know that he is high. Rindou, who's not in sight, is probably stoned as well. They often smoke together, and if you hadn't been late today, you might have joined them. But you're not, and it leaves you feeling incredibly sad. You hate being sober when they are not.

"Don't be silly, Haru." You extinguish the cigarette in a handcrafted clay ashtray, the color an unappealing cheap purple. Oddly, you want to take it home.

"I'm not being silly!" He whines, making an irrational turn before finally settling on the sofa next to you. Under his weight it sinks down. Suddenly, the apartment feels aged. "He's been staring at you since you arrived, and I actually spotted you two on campus the other day. What's happening between you?"

"Nothing. What could be happening between me and Ran?"

In the adjacent room – the kitchen – a bottle crashes to the ground and shatters, followed by a cacophony of loud noises. A few girls scream, their high-pitched voices drowning out the electronic music. Haruchiyo pays no attention to this minor disturbance. He slips his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers, and rests his head on your shoulder. Despite his inebriation from weed and alcohol, he smells pleasant.

"Dunno. I just wanted to warn ya to be careful, and Rin's been suspicious too.  Says Ran’s been weird about you lately."

"Oh."

People come and go, and you follow them with weary eyes, attempting to deduce how much they've had to drink or their field of study based on their attire. A silly little game to distract yourself.

You want to go home, but you can't bring yourself to leave.

"He's just hung out at my place a few times. Maybe more. And we've been hanging out, spending some time alone together. Just the two of us." You finally admit, and when Haruchiyo doesn't stop playing with your fingers, nor does he falter, you know he won't judge you.

He is your safe haven.

"Did you fuck?"

"Oh my god, Haru! No." You exclaim, and he erupts in laughter. His joyful chuckles spread happiness throughout your being.

"Rin's older brother is quite the catch. I wouldn't blame you if you did fuck him. If I were you, I definitely would've." Haruchiyo yelps when you pinch him, but then he grabs the hand you attacked him with and edges closer to you. His gray eyes soften as they meet yours. "I won't tell Rin. Don't worry."

Moments like this make you forget all the hatred, and you come to appreciate cigarettes, smoking, dancing, plum cakes, ironies, hot days, and the bitter aftermath. Most of all, you love Haru and his gentle nature. You kiss him on the nose, a small peck, an offering of lost affection. His face lights up with smiles, his cheeks flushed with either alcohol, humidity, or simply your presence.

"You're the best, Haru," you whisper to him, and he nods in response. He never accepts compliments easily. Then you add, "Let's go find Rindou. I miss him."

In the end, you don't get up from the sofa, and it's Rindou who eventually discovers you both in each other's arms.

x.

The air in the small ramen shop near Waseda University is heavy with the scent of pork broth, and Ran wrinkles his nose in disgust.

"Don't make such a face. This place has the best ramen in Shinjuku."  The machine with different water stained stickers makes a loud noise and the automat lady says something incomprehensible. Shion turns around and with a happy face shoves tickets into Ran’s chest. "I’ve gotta go take a leak or I’m pissing myself right here.”

Before Shion disappears behind a grey curtain that Ran thinks was originally white, he turns back briefly. "Kakucho should be here in about five minutes. Let him know I've already paid."

Generosity isn't exactly Shion's strong suit, but today he'd received a perfect score on one of his projects and wanted to celebrate with his favourite ramen and favourite people – or so he claimed. Ran doubted this particular ramen shop was truly Shion's favourite, but since he had said it was the best in Shinjuku and Ran was too tired to drive somewhere else, they'd settled on staying nearby. As for the sentiment, it probably wasn't genuine either.

The interior isn't crowded. A few waitresses – pretty young girls around Ran's age – and an elderly man engrossed in his newspaper occupy the space. There's a half-empty glass on his table with cloudy yellow liquid; obviously sake. Ran ponders whether he's ever drunk this early in the day, but he can't recall such a memory. He's chosen to keep a clear mind since he and Rindou have been on their own.

You never know what might happen next. And that's something Ran dislikes about life. He prefers to be in control, but with how things flow you can never be. Nothing depends solely on you.

So when the door opens, and you enter the ramen shop with Kakucho and a short girl who strongly resembles your best friend – yours and Rindou's red-haired companion – Ran's throat tightens. Conflicting emotions surge within him. On one hand, he's genuinely thrilled to see you here. When you both woke up in your apartment this morning – where he had stayed the night, once again – he hadn't had the time to take you out for coffee, and this deviation from your usual post-sleepover routine had left an aching void in his chest. [Rindou would probably say he's being overly dramatic, but fortunately, Rindou will never be privy to this particular struggle.] On the other hand, he wishes you weren't here, in this damned cramped space, where everything smells a little bit too much.

He can already envision loving stares Shion will cast upon you, and he hates it so much he wishes you'd disappear. And he wants you to stay. He wants you to consciously choose a seat next to him and he wants you to talk only to him and don’t spare a glance for anyone else.

He wants you.

The revelation dawns on him suddenly, and his eyes widen. He's surprised, and there's sadness and anger swirling within him. His heart is tender, though, as you lift your head and grace him with a small smile. He nearly forgets where he is.

"You didn't tell me Ran was here. You said we were coming to see your friends." If not for the playful undertone in your voice, someone might think you were chastising Kakucho.

"You two know each other?"

You scoff, offering Ran an amused glance. "Of course we do."

"How would she know you but not me? I should be the one surprised that you two know each other."

An unexpected edge tinges Kakucho, and he frowns, subsiding. The girl beside him bites her lip, a reproachful look in her eyes, and mumbles something Ran thankfully can't hear. But you, you smile broadly and settle into the seat next to him [just as he wanted you to]. You toss your bag at your feet and place your hand on his thigh. "I actually agree with Ran. It'd be strange for me to know you and not him. Do you know how much Rindou complains to me about him?"

Your teasing stings, and Ran rolls his eyes, playfully pinching you on the soft skin near your thumb. You squint, gritting your teeth, and he quickly presses his fingers over the irritated area, soothing the discomfort he caused. "Sorry. Didn't mean to be so harsh."

"You're insufferable. If I'd known you were here, I would've turned down Kakucho's invitation to come."

This hurts. Even as a joke it does and Ran releases your hand with a flick. "You're such a liar, ba…" A sudden cough interrupts him from adding a pet name and he frowns, turning his head to its source. It turns out to be the short blonde girl – the one he momentarily forgot was present.

"Akashi Senju," she says, offering him a small hand. "I'm her friend and Haruchiyo's sister."

"Senju also studies at Waseda, just like you. She's a first-year student," you add, grinning at your friend. "Anyway, aren't you hungry? You said you were starving."

The second you stand from your chair, Ran's mood darkens. He stares at your back, noting that you've changed since the morning, now wearing different jeans. He prefers the ones you had on earlier. These are a bit too low-rise for his taste, and the color doesn't sit right with him either. Did you practice at the studio and change into a new outfit? Or perhaps you came back home after your morning class and specifically changed for your meeting with Akashi?

"Don't bother asking me anything. I'm not in the mood," Ran says, noticing Kakucho's smug expression. "Oh, and Shion has paid for your ramen. Don't order anything."

"I wasn't planning to."

To what Kakucho is referring is a mystery Ran won’t entertain himself solving. For now, he has another thing to settle and that thing is his own melting heart.

He knocks on your door that same evening after dropping you out just hours before. The ride home from the ramen shop was silent for most part and your home was the first stop. He didn’t say goodbye as you silently closed the door wishing to see everyone soon again. And he didn't allow himself a pleasure of a biting remark – one that had been simmering on his tongue since Shion let out an unnecessary whistle upon meeting you – to slip and pierce through his friend. 

Both boys and the Akashi girl had asked to be dropped off at Nakano Station, which was relatively close to your apartment. Ran hadn't argued and hadn't offered anything in response. He is a mess and all he needs to calm down is you and your annoyingly good cherry tea. You made it every single time he was over.

So when he knocks on your door carrying two bags with a chicken logo – from a small restaurant he spotted on his way back that claimed to serve the best karaage – and a box full of glazed donuts from an American coffeehouse chain, he hopes you'll allow him another cup of tea.

"I knew you'd come," you say, stepping aside to let him in. "What did you bring? Oh! I love that place! Give me that, and go sit down. I'll grab the plates and everything."

But he doesn't sit. He follows you into the kitchen, observing as you tear into the bags, too impatient to untie knots. He smiles at your little quirks and habits. By now, he believes he knows you well. All the small details, bumps and preferences that are arranged in such a way, they make you. You are a thousand myriads of memories, of happiness and of never ending dark night and he wants to conquer every single one.

He wants you.

When you reach for two plates, he steps closer and wraps his arms around you, his hands over yours, he guides them to your chest. In this close proximity, he can smell the lingering fragrance of your shower gel and soap on your skin. He traces his lips over the damp skin of your neck, planting a soft kiss just under your ear.

"Were you planning on going out today?" he asks, not moving a single centimetre away. "You smell so good."

"No. I told you I knew you'd drop by, so I took a shower earlier. You always look so bored when I leave you alone while I'm showering."

He smiles into your skin and playfully nips it, licking the pain away immediately. He wants you, and he wants you to know it. He wants everyone else to know that you're wanted by him too. A purple mark blooms on your skin, and you tremble, your hands gripping his arms.

"Why are you so good to me? For me," he leans his head on yours and kisses the crown of your head, pulling you even closer to him. 

"Ran."

"Tell me."

You wait a second. Two. Three. More. Your breath quickens and he feels your heart pounding against his own, and he closes his eyes in an attempt to steady himself, to find some stability amidst the chaos that is you.

Somehow, he senses that whatever you're about to say won't be pleasant, which is perhaps why he doesn't rush you or urge you to continue. Instead, he litters your head and neck with kisses, communicating his love.

"You don't really like me, Ran, do you? You like Aoki."

Your  fingers are entwined with his, and he can't recall who initiated it. You or him.

"Bullshit. I barely remember her most days until you bring her up. Just what did she tell you? We never had anything going on."

"Maybe. But you don't like me. You like her, and that's why we shouldn't."

His kisses come to a halt. He gently turns you around to face him, searching your face. You don't appear sad or disappointed or disheartened. Maybe a little flustered and your eyes shine a different way. He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

"Bullshit."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"You're a terrible liar, Ran."

He scoffs. "I'm not. I am a good liar, but I am not lying to you when I say I want you. I need you. You are the one for me." "Then can we agree on one thing, Ran?" You take the hair ties out of his braids, your fingers deftly working to undo them.

"Anything you want."

"If we do this, can we agree not to kiss? At least until you figure out how you truly feel about me."

"That's ridiculous. What else? Should I take you from behind so we don't have to see each other's faces?" He is irritated, but not mad. Yet.

"Don't be crude. No, I just don't want to kiss you when you have feelings for someone else. I don't want to get too attached. I don’t kiss people without feelings." Your hands run through his hair, and he melts into the sensation. You're his solace, his sanctuary. He can't understand how you fail to see that.

"Please, Ran. It's more for me than for you, and I'm sorry."

He sighs, his thumb brushing over your lips. He had been looking forward to kissing you. Ran loves to kiss. But patience is often rewarded, right? Or something along those lines. It doesn't matter.

One day, he's sure he'll get to kiss you. He knows it.

"It's stupid, but alright. I'll kiss you when I'm certain I love you," he says, pressing his lips to the soft skin of your forehead. "I don't understand why I can't kiss you now, though, but anything for you. If it will make you feel better then okay.”

I'll do anything for you.

Damp beige sheets are scattered in the corner of the room near the door. The entire space is filled with the scent of sex and the nighttime city, and Ran never wants to leave. He feels at home.

His grey t-shirt you are wearing stands out on the clean black sheets you spread out a little before. You're lying on the bed with your limbs stretched out, your body still sensitive and trembling. The pose reminds him of starfish, and he bites back a laugh, his eyes twinkling with delight.

"Ran!" You roll your head to the side, propping yourself up and adjusting the pillow on the headboard to make yourself comfortable. You do the same for him, and his heart swells, yet again, for what feels like the millionth time and beyond this evening. "Are you laughing at me?"

"No. Why would I?" He places two bowls of karaage and rice – one for each of you – on the bed and slides under the blanket. Your bare thigh brushes against his hip. He isn’t wearing much. Just his boxers. And if he isn’t mistaken you too aren’t wearing anything except for his t-shirt.

“Don't know. You were just all smiles when I turned my head.”

He doesn’t grace you with a response, because just for this once he wants you to find the answer yourself. He wants you to read it in the depths of his eyes, in the creases that form beneath them, and in the glow of his lips. Lips you didn't get to kiss today. The chicken and rice are cold, but the food is still good and he has been starving ever since he got up from the bed and took you to the shower. You had been hazy and sensitive, his cum on your thighs and belly, and when the water was hitting your body it seemed like it was hurting you more than bringing you relief. He asked you if it was true, but you just nudged him closer, holding him close with your arms tightly wrapped around his waist. He'd carefully washed you clean.

"What's on your mind, Ran?" you ask, your chopsticks poised between your fingers. "Oh, wait, don't tell me. Let me guess."

As you contemplate your guess, your eyes scrutinize his face, and he notices  every small change it makes.. How your lips quiver after you lick them clean. How your eyes narrow as you attempt to focus on him. How you fidget with the wooden chopsticks, transferring them from one hand to the other. How you look flushed and innocent and so incredibly young and beautiful. How you now forever have him as a part of you. 

You sigh, your shoulders rising and falling gently. Your bowl is only half-empty, and he guesses that you probably aren’t the type to get hungry after sex. "Are you thinking about sex? Or maybe Rindou? Oh, no, wait! Maybe you're craving that dessert you love. What was it called? Rindou once made me get it for you because he said you were mad at him and it was the only thing that could save his life."

"How do Rin, sex, and my favorite dessert all fit together?" Ran sets his now-empty bowl aside and takes yours, which you kindly offer him to finish. "It doesn't really make sense."

"Your expression. You looked like you were thinking about something you really eally love."

So fucking innocently curious. So naively observant. So so so. Ran tries to grab what arises in his chest and what burns his throat, but he can’t, so he swallows and reaches out for you instead. Nestled in his arms, you fit perfectly, and he nuzzles his nose in your neck, which now carries the scent of him. He's never shared this level of intimacy with the girls he's been with before, but with you, it's different. With you, he can sense his imprints all over your body, just as he knows you've marked yourself onto him.

"Could you make me some of that cherry tea in the morning?" he murmurs into your skin. He senses a slight flinch as you're tickled, and to make amends, he places a soft little kiss there.

Your embrace tightens around him. "Were you thinking about my cherry tea?"

"Well, if you put it that way... yeah, I guess I was. Will you make it for me when we wake up?"

In this moment, in your bed, bodies entwined under warm blankets, Ran lies to you for the first time. And you both understand he's doing so. You both know he wasn't really thinking about cherry tea, but rather you.

And yet, no matter how terrifying it is, you comply, you choose to believe him and say, "Yeah, I will. Of course I will."

xi.

Rindou has a suspicion you are hiding something from him and he is determined to find out what. He is all in for secrets and mysteries, but not from you. When it comes to you he is greedy and he wants to know everything. So if you get hurt he will know whom to punch and what words to say to make the wound they inflicted upon you sting less.

Rindou, who has always been protected by Ran, loves to be protective of you. It’s a self-assigned role of a big brother he never was to anyone that he cherishes too much. But no matter how many times he has hinted - too bluntly - for you to pour your heart out to him, you simply don’t say what he wants to hear. He gets desperate and when one day he is high with Sanzu in his apartment, he asks him if he noticed it too. Your strange behaviour and how lately you’ve been smelling different. Like something too familiar and close to him.

In his typical manner, Sanzu laughs it off. He promises Rindou that there’s nothing to worry about, cause if you’d wanted to tell them you would’ve. And if not, then you will tell them later. You all are best friends and you will be so until the end of your days. A little trust, Rin, never hurt anybody.

There’s nothing left for him, but to agree, and yet the smell on your skin stays and in the next days all Rindou can is to get familiar with it since now it’s part of you.

The rumours that you slept with a college professor for the main stage in the showcase spreads around not so long after.

Rindou punches a guy who he overhears saying it in the cafeteria and almost gets detention for breaking university’s principles. But it doesn’t stop him from beating that guy up again. This time he is smarter. He does it outside of the school.

Knuckles bloody and torn he feels alive.

He isn’t that much surprised when he finds out it was Aoki who started this nasty lie about you.

After all, you’ve always been rivals.

“That was stupid, Rin.” You murmur sitting on the floor of their apartment. His hand rests in yours, a warm dead weight. The cotton ball soaked with vodka - they didn’t have any first aid kit at home - glides across his scraped skin. Despite you speaking gently, your movements are precise and harsh. You obviously are a bit mad or maybe sad and worried. “You know I don’t care what they say.” The alcohol stings his skin more than your words. He closes his eyes. “But I do. I can’t just brush it off if they call my best friend a whore right to my face.” 

“He didn’t see you,” you observe, quickly glancing at him, before returning to your task. 

“What a pity.” “Will he live?” you tear the gauze in two and wrap it around Rindou’s knuckles tying in with a pretty bow. He thinks it’s a bit excessive and he doesn’t really need something to cover up the wound, but he lets you tend to him. He likes it a bit too much to deny it. 

The water in the bathroom stops running and for a second it’s eerily quiet in the apartment. The only noise comes from honking cars - might be someone parking for too long - and people loudly laughing right under their building - might be a student couple that rents a flat above Haitani’s. Life never stops even when it stills for you. The world is wheeling around and around and around.

"What's with the hospital? What happened?" Veiled by his thoughts Rindou doesn’t notice his brother coming out of the bathroom. With Ran beside you looking at his hands, the world speeds up; Rindou subconsciousness suffers. “Hey, Rin! What happened?”

Without your permission he can’t tell the truth. He won’t dare to spill that ugly rumour about you and he won’t - everything inside him riot against this nasty lie - even say it outloud if you don’t want him to. Even to his brother. 

Rindou’s loyalty is his doom. “Rindou fought the guy who he caught saying I slept with mister Okamoto for the main role in the showcase.” There’s not a hinge of bitterness or resentment in you as you answer Ran’s question. 

Rindou wants to smack you.  He wants you to be more serious about yourself. He hates that you aren’t and he is surprised when Ran is. 

“Why would someone say that about you?” 

“Jealousy, I guess. It’s going to be the second year I am the lead.” You stand up from the floor and take the open bottle of vodka along with the remaining gauze and cotton balls to the kitchen. “Honestly, Ran, it’s just a stupid rumour. Why even bother? People are gonna talk anyway.”

“No. If we’ll make them, they won’t,” Ran retorts, going after you and Rindou can’t help, but turn around and peek out from the corner to get a better view. “Don’t roll your eyes at me. I am being serious. Don’t let them come at you for something you didn’t do.”

“Yeah. You worked hard to be the lead. Don’t let them take it away from you.”

The simple truth is the hardest to swallow, and you almost crumble under its pressure. It's obvious to Rindou that you didn't like what the wind was carrying around the university's halls. Maybe it really didn't bother you that much, but it still soured your sweet success. He wished he could've helped before blood needed to be spilled. Because now, Rindou isn't sure if his warmth and care can make you feel better. What is left for you is to wrap his hands in gauzes and share the warmth of your existence.

And so he raises to his feet, to catch you one more time, to not let tears stain your cheeks and your heart.

“Oh, no, no.” It’s Ran. He reaches for your face and cups your cheeks between his palms, his big fingers erasing fat tears from your skin. He coos at you, eyes searching for you. “You know what? I don’t want to see you cry, and I bet Rin doesn’t want to see you cry either. But it’s okay if you want to. I won’t stop you. So cry all you want, and then I’ll take you to that restaurant I told you about. Alright? I am going to blow dry my hair, and we are good to go. Okay?”

Frozen, near the kitchen countertop stands Rindou. He takes his glasses off and wipes them with the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t dare to look at you, and besides, he isn’t even sure if he will see you. Your presence isn’t for him, and maybe it never was. Maybe he was never that important in your life; only a connecting chain to something bigger than him.

He can’t find you.

“I am sorry,” you whisper when Ran is gone to his room and your eyes are almost dry.

Rindou frowns. There’s no reason for you to apologize to him, and yet he leans into you, his forehead burrowing at your shoulder. “Whatever you say or do is okay. Remember? We accept each other as we are. You don’t have to pretend to be someone else around me.”

“I love you, Rindou.” Again, it’s a whisper, a small meaningful promise. “I love you so so much.”

“I know.” He laughs, suddenly uncomfortable and very shy. That new foreign smell of yours hits his nose and Rindou inhales it fully, filling his lungs with it and a realisation comes at him so simple, he thinks he knew it from the beginning. The shock he imagined he would go through isn’t here. Nothing is. Just acceptance and your detachedness in which he loses himself. You smell like his brother. Like Ran. You’ve been for a while. He wraps his arms around your waist and holds you closer. His hands don't hurt him anymore. 

xii.

His fingers are warm on the gentle skin of your hips, and every little caress feels like millions of kisses planted straight to your heart.

Girls in your university and mutual friends through Rindou who slept with Ran had the tendency to discuss him in bed, and besides claiming that he always knew what he was doing and how he should do it, they always mentioned him being exceptionally rough. He never stayed at your place for a night, never brought you to his apartment in Roppongi (everyone assumed it was their mutual agreement with Rindou), and never slept with the same girl twice. Never. Never. Never. There were too many rules and details for you to remember. Laying under him on his bed in his room you would swear they all were liars.

Running your fingers through his long hair and combing them behind his ears so they won’t tickle you falling onto your face, you moan from the burning pleasure that never left you from the moment Ran declared he wanted you.

Slow, but powerful rolls of his hips catch you off guard - they always do - and you tug at his hair a bit too harshly. His face comes closer to yours and your naked chest touches his, he brushes against your hard nipples, and with pure curiosity and pleasure watches you close your eyes, back detaching your body from the damp sheets. It’s like you want to be closer to him. Like you run into his arms; into him.

[He accepts you.] He welcomes you.

The exposed marked skin of your neck comes into his vision and he leans down to kiss you there. Mark it again. Purple on purple. More purple. You and him are the same colour. 

His breathy whispers burn like holy oil. Something sacred that was never meant to be shared with anyone else. “So good for me, baby. Always good. It’s you. Only you for me. Right, baby? I am yours. Oh God, I am yours, baby.”

More confessions. More promises. More spilled love.

With you Ran is always tender. He always eats you out - despite you not wanting to, since you say it’s like a kiss, too intimate - and he always stretches you before he puts his cock inside you so it won’t hurt you. He always listens to your needs, without you voicing them out even once. And after you are done you both eat and talk and laugh, and then go at it again. 

After the fifth time you are sure that Ran Haitani never fucked you, but made love to you. And it was not in the tempo or poses he had you in or where you had sex or if he initiated it or you or how many times you both finished or many other stupid reasons. No. It was in his touches, his words, his smiles, his laughs, his gestures, his eyes and how soft they were right after or sometimes in the moment.

It was in his being and how you both felt around each other. 

Today, when Ran cums, your lower part warm with it, he crushes you with his body. You stroke his toned shoulders and back. It’s not just his hair that gets your attention. It’s every part of his body. You love to please him too. His breath is hot against your ear shell, and you squirm, grazing your nails against his tattooed skin. He winces, but laughs, detaching himself from you.

“I am so spent,” he confesses, yawning and you giggle at this natural confirmation from his body. “Do you wanna take a nap? We can order something later or go out. I wouldn’t mind having shabu-shabu. Whatcha think?”

You bite your lip, pretending to consider his offer, when in reality you already know you’ll agree and now you are just taking him in. Ran is very beautiful. Womanly pretty.

"Yeah, okay. Sounds good."

Before Ran rolls to his side, he kisses you in the corner of your lips and then up your face to your brows. Never on your lips. Because you asked and he promised. Genuine content smile brightens up your drown in pleasure face.

"You know," he muses, "I like your red-haired friend more now."

You laugh, immediately understanding what he meant by that and as if the sound of your laugh is an alarm for his need to be close to you, Ran shifts closer to you, bringing you too, flash against his naked body. Skin to skin.

"His hair is pink, and his name is Haruchiyo. But you always say his hair is red. It's kind of funny," you murmur, closing your eyes. Your body is too sensitive for you to move much without feeling the never ending hunger for Ran, but you still do and you gasp, your palms gripping onto his shoulders. 

He smirks and lets you nuzzle your head in the crook of his neck. You kiss him there.

"Yeah, Haruchiyo. Next time, I'll pay him myself to take Rin to Hakone. For a whole week. Anyway, let's sleep. I want to make you feel good again when we wake up. Do you want me to wake you up with my fingers or my mouth? You seem like you need it. You are so fucking sensitive everytime we have sex. It’s like I am your first and you never had decent co…”

"Rude, Haitani," you slap his back. Gently. "So rude."

Silence settles over the room and your breaths even out. You think he has fallen asleep. His chest rising up and down. His body is warm and solid and heavy next to yours. Your fingers continue their dance across his nape.

"But you still like me, right? Rude or not?" He asks, his voice a bit clearer than before, and you know that he has been thinking about this all this time.

Without a delay or hesitation, you speak. "Yes, I do. Rude or not."

Again, he doesn’t reply back and after an unknown amount of lost time, you understand that he indeed has fallen asleep. You follow him right after, thinking that maybe his question was more serious than you initially thought it was.

xiii.

The plans for Rindou’s surprise birthday party were made in advance in the kitchen of your apartment.

For the first time in four years that you’ve become a part of Rindou’s life, Ran lets you both - you and Haruchiyo - to play a part in the arranging of the birthday party for his brother. He does it because of you, of course. Another reason is knowing that Rindou will be very pleased and happy. Unlike Ran, Rindou likes surprises. It was your idea to veil every little preparation, location and guest list with exciting secrecy. Both boys [under an insane amount of pressure] promised you to not even speak of the upcoming birthday to Rindou. Let alone spill any details or hints about the party. 

Just a few days before it Haruchiyo however sitting in the cafeteria accidentally mentioned to Rindou that the colour of banana milk reminded him of kitchen countertops in the house Ran rented for the surprise party. He was saying it with a huge smile on his face that quickly faded when he realised what he said. You - who obviously had a huge soft stop for Haruchiyo - didn’t even get mad at him. You all laughed it off and Rindou asked no questions, appreciating your efforts. 

"Can you believe it?" Happy Birthday Rindou garland shimmers in your hands. You tape the second end of it to the wall and lean back, looking at it, trying to see if it’s even. It’s the fifth time now and Ran slowly loses his patience. He doubts Rindou would notice if it declines for one degree. “I thought you would be the one who would uncover us.”

The ladder echoes a clunking sound as you come down. You fall right into Ran’s arms who were steading it for you the whole time, hands gripping the metal so you didn’t fall. He is surprised. “Me? Why? You know I am actually good at keeping secrets.”

“I know you are.” Hands on your chest, you squint at the wall, overlooking the garland. Your expression is hard and serious and no matter how much Ran tries to decipher it he can’t. Silently, he prays you won’t readjust it yet again. He is getting tired and he still needs to fill the fridge with beers and what else alcohol he bought. There were also snacks and fairy lights to be taken care of. At least, all the vases and unnecessary fragile decorations were already sitting in the storage. 

“Does it look good?” Ran asks, hopefully. “To me it seems fine. From where I stand. But it seemed fine the second time too. Maybe you just should draw a huge line with a pencil on the wall so you could see where you should hang it. Or you know what? Rindou will be fine without garland. He’ll live. It’s not like he knows we were gonna hang it.”

The silence on your end is scaring him. Is this stupid garland really so uneven? He steps in front of you and scrutinizes the wall. Everything is perfect. The colorful "Happy Birthday Rindou" written on the beige wall looks fine; the tape is not visible and every letter is as neat as it could be. When the silence stretches, he groans and grabs hold of the ladder. The metal is warm under his palms from how long he has been holding it.

“Ran.” He feels your lovely hands and you pressed to him before he registers you calling his name. All frustration and tiredness are exterminated from him, thrown out of the window the second you open your mouth.

"Mhm?"

The softness of your body melts into his existence and he cranes his neck at the angle where he can see you.

Your eyes are already waiting for him and he is met with so much tenderness and endearment and fondness he resists the urge to kiss you and it’s the worst fight he’s ever been into.

His body is bruised and ugly. He is losing.

“The garland is fine.”

“Is it?” The sudden eagerness in his voice makes you giggle. He giggles with you. “I expect the same garland for my birthday. You’ve got to put Rin through the same shit as me.”

“Do you want us to rent you a house too?”

He hums, thinking of an answer. His fingers slip between yours. “Yeah. Two floors, and I want the backyard facing the ocean. A pool is a must, too. Oh! And the guest list? I’ll make it myself. Rin would invite people I dislike just to annoy me.”

“Deal.” A wet touch of your lips encourages shivers. His eyelids tremble as he closes his eyes, losing himself in your affection. You press another kiss under his ear and then on his jaw, only to move to his cheeks, and then to the corner of his lips.

His only instinct is to follow you, lean into you, reach out to you and for a second his lips are on yours, but you move away and he curses. Turning around, Ran pushes you towards the huge oak table and you comply, jumping on it. Your legs are spread for him and yet you push him away when he grabs the hem of your shirt. 

Your palm on his chest he hopes you can feel how his heart reacts to you. And as if you do - or maybe it’s something else, Ran hopes it’s something else, something sweet and precious where you can’t deny him - your open palm turns into fist and you bring him closer. You pepper his face with small kisses and it’s embarrassing for him to think how happy he gets, how you can ask of him anything now and he will do it. Be it steading the ladder for you or bringing you hot gazing stars from outer space. 

“You are so lovely, Ran.” 

Oh God. 

“Anything for you. Lovely, gentle, harsh, rude… yours. However, you'll want me.”

There’s a known firefly in your eyes and he holds your face. At this point you are just staring at each other, searching for answers or commuting without words. Or maybe both. “Yeah. I like it all. Remember? I’ve told you before.” “Say it again, then. I like hearing it.” And you do. I like you. I like you. I accept you, Ran. I like you. I like you. I like you. 

Pink looks pretty on you and Ran knows it. 

You sway with his younger brother in the middle of the huge living room of the rented house for which Ran paid a bit too much [but you were so adamant it was perfect and Rindou would absolutely love it so he couldn’t say no] and laugh. Your head thrown back, you hold hands with Rindou as he swirls you around, careful to not let go of you. 

You are the centre of this party and Ran’s attention. 

The beer in his cup is still cold and he sips on it watching you having the time of your life celebrating the existence of his little brother. The fact that you so dearly love and care for Rindou touches Ran’s heart more than it should, but it does and it warms the world around him. He tries to remember if someone from his own friends has this much love for him as you do for Rindou and suddenly he can’t name a single one. It’s a moment of loneliness and fear. Ran can deal with both, because he will always have Rin and Rin will always have you. So it’s fine. Everything is fine and the party goes smoothly just like you planned it. There’s enough food and alcohol and people who are here are the ones Rindou is happy to see. All his previous birthdays - and Ran’s too - they celebrated at clubs. Tones of booz, weed and girls never made Rindou smile as brightly as he did through the whole evening and well into the night. There was something alluring in intimacy that Ran never felt or noticed before and that he waited all his life to learn through you. 

So he drinks a bit more and watches you dance in your pink croco trousers and he knows you look unbelievably good. So good all he wants now is to get you in his car and drive you far far far away where no one could take you from him. For good measure he’ll lock you in the house [of his heart]. The keys will be thrown away with eyes closed so even he wouldn’t know where to look for them. No escape from this dream land of his. Forever imprisoned the two of you. 

It gets hard to breathe as if Ran is the one to dance and laugh. Leaving his unfinished beer on the table, Ran goes outside. He catches Kakucho’s questioning gaze on him, but mouths a simple ‘i am fine’ and then he is all alone again.

It’s chilly outside. The night sky is clouded and no stars can be seen from the porch. Two houses down there’s another party. Music travels this short distance, but as if there’s an invisible divider, it stops exactly in the middle and never touches their own music. Ran can clearly hear both songs and this alone creates a peculiar sense of detachment. It’s like he is here and then it’s like he never was and never would be.  Much to his displeasure it’s not you who finds him there. He didn’t even know he was waiting for you until viscous regret filled his lungs and the disappointment rested in his chest. He might have been scowling because the girl before him looked, if not scared, confused for sure. 

“Don’t say you don’t remember me.” The girl is beautiful, and Ran thinks he saw her at your university. She steps closer and brings her face right to his, her brown eyes waiting for recognition, but when even proximity doesn’t ring a bell, she pouts. “What they say about you is right. You never called me back.”

Oh. That’s why she looked familiar. Ran has slept with her. He gives her a dead stare, not in the mood to make a joke out of it. He turns his back on her. “Well, I never call anyone back. It’s always a one-time thing.”

He expects the girl to be offended or for the poison of humiliation to spread through her veins, but obviously, none of it happens. Instead, she pulls out a pack of cigarettes and leans on the wooden rails, overlooking the empty night street. “It’s stupid, but I thought I might be good enough for you to change your mind,” the girl giggles. She lights a cigarette for herself and doesn’t offer one to Ran. “But you don’t even remember me. You don’t, do you?”

“No. I don’t.” There’s no point in lying, and Ran doesn’t care if he hurts her. She’s been hurt before and she will be after this insignificant encounter.

“Do you wanna fuck now?” The answer is immediate and it’s the same as before. “No. I don’t.” 

“Not with me?” Lit cigarette between her fingers stands out on a stormy night sky. 

“No. Not with you.” 

The cloud of smoke escapes the girl's mouth and Ran stares at it for a bit, trying to remember how it tasted when he kissed her. But he can’t. It’s not her mouth that he sees, but an empty place. It’s scary. 

You and your crucifying rule that broke his bones everytime he was with you made kisses mean a lot and dissolved those that he shared before into drivel. They didn’t mean anything. 

Ran never remembered his first kiss. 

He guesses it happened when he was thirteen with a girl that was much older. It probably was a bet. 

The butt of the cigarette with dark stains from the girl’s lipstick is pressed against the wooden floor. The light dies. “You look awfully sick with love, Ran Haitani. It does suit you, though. Your eyes look more alive. Usually, they were like you just murdered someone. It’s scary.”

Fat raindrops hit the pavement and soon the world around is speaking. Ran can’t tell what it’s trying to say, but his heart tells him it is a premonition. A little prophecy, because what is born meaningless has a tendency to die as the most important thing. 

But of course, there are exceptions. 

There are memories, people and webs that were and always would have the dearest place in Ran’s heart. There is you and there was Aoki Ogura and now next to him is the girl he had slept with once and doesn’t even remember. There is the smell of rain and a few seconds ago there was a lit cigarette, the fire of it now dead. It’s a birthday party of his little brother, his only family, and it’s a day when Ran realises some things aren’t our choices, but are chosen for us. 

No matter how much we want, we can't change them, because just for once it didn’t happen because of us, but because of who we are.  The rain intensifies. Chills creep under Ran’s thin grey blouse. Are your pink trousers and white tee keeping you warm enough? He desperately needs to know. Now. 

“What’s your name?” Ran is at the door. His hand lies on the handle.

The girl raises her hands in the air, gasping. She pretends to be offended. In reality, she isn’t. There’s not a tinge of sadness in her. “It’s Hatsu Ikazuchi.”

The beginning of thunder. How fortunate. How coincidentally amusing and pretty. Life is full of wonders. The door behind Ran softly closes. Rain and storms stay on the other side.

xiv.

The second Rindou accidentally learns about the party, he knows it was your idea. 

When he steps out of the car and sees the prettiest house he knows it was you who chose it. The small hidden alley where it stands and green pots with pink flowers are definitely what made the cut for you. And then, when he enters the house and everyone screams happy birthday Rindou, and he shushes them so he can greet every single person there, he knows it was you who decided who should be invited.

It’s the same with the cake that you bring out to the living room singing-whispering his favourite song, instead of the classical happy birthday one. He knows it was you who ordered it and decided on the fillings. You hold it before him, a huge happy smile on your pretty face, and he closes his eyes to make a wish before he blows off the candles. Ran stands behind you, his chin on your shoulder watching his brother, but Rindou barely notices this unusual proximity. He only sees the fairy lights and decorations.

He knows it was all your doings too.

He is happy and he is loved and he drowns in your love the whole evening and well into the night.

He only loses you right after the clock strikes two when Haruchiyo finds him and urges him to smoke. They share a joint on the second floor in the bathroom. And even in the state Rindou is in now, he thinks about you. How you’d be mad if you were to find them smoking in this enclosed space without a window. How you’d scold them like you always do and say that weed smells disgusting. How you’d still slide down the door and sit on cold tiles with them, breathing smoke from it into your lungs, intoxicating yourself to the maximum. You’d laugh and smile looking at them both, your best friends, and in those moments everything in the world would be right. 

High as kite - because it’s a special birthday joint, claims Haruchiyo - from half of the cigarette and drunk on God knows how many beers and two cocktails with an unknowing mix of alcohol in each, Rindou stumbles down the stairs. Haruchiyo follows suit. With mouths dry as parchment they go into the kitchen where they gulp down two bottles of water, one and a half litre each. 

The thirst subsides and they giggle, finding the situation funny. The party carries on and so does the fun. Behind the veil of smoke and fog and fun everything [and everyone] seems brighter - happier - than they really are. Weed is better than alcohol, but both of it mixed together is a devastating cocktail of unknown feelings and emotions, so bright and positive, Rindou wants to stay in this superficial land forever. 

But the effect will wear out with time and nothing but sadness and regret will stay. And when Rindou will wake up in the morning, he will be grumpy and untalkative and borderline aggressive, angry thoughts swarming inside his pounding head. He might throw up or he might not and when this state too will pass, for there is nothing permanent, he will wonder if sadness and hostility is all he has. This eats Rindou alive. 

But there is still time till this terrifying clarity. 

For now everything is blurry. And he is happy. He allows himself to be. 

A very gracious birthday present. 

Together, with Haruchiyo they find you in the company of Senju, Ran and his friends. In the midst of loud music and the smell of alcohol, your small circle gives the impression of a cold calm island, warm to its habitants and cold to intruders. There’s an effortless conversation that flows between you all. He has no idea what it is you are talking about, but it must be something very interesting to each of you, because your eyes sparkle and everyone speaks almost at the same time, contributing to the discussion. 

A deep gut feeling of being unwanted washes over him and Rindou’s body is sticky, clothes too close to skin. Blood pumps loudly in his head and for a second or two all he hears is a stretching white noise. It calls out for him, forms a message, something so important and crucial, but it disappears before Rindou can decipher the meaning behind its static nature. And then, his brain overwhelmed and tired, his being happy and loved, he thinks that maybe some things aren’t worth reading into. Maybe it all happens just because and maybe nothing has any sacred meaning. 

Maybe living in the absence of all is easier and maybe that’s what Rindou chooses in the moment Senju spots them and waves her hand urging them to join your company.  

“My favorite birthday boy!” You exclaim, stretching your hands toward him. He accepts your invitation and dives into your arms, stumbling over his unstable feet. He falls face down onto the sofa, and Senju, who had been sitting next to you, groans and moves to the floor. But she doesn’t say anything to him because today is his birthday, and he is allowed a little more than he usually is.

“Am I really your favourite?” Rindou asks, his tongue loose from the effects of alcohol. His head rests on your shoulder, and he tilts his head to take a good look at you. You are a bit drunk yourself. Your eyes are only half-opened, and you look undeniably sexy and warm. “Tell me the truth.”

You squint your eyes, pretending to think, and he whines at you, causing you to laugh. He is happy with himself because of that. He is even happier when you ruffle his hair and whisper to him, "You are. Even when you reek of weed and beer." You lick your lips before you continue, a bit more serious than before. "Even if you find yourself a pretty girl and dump me because she's going to be jealous of us."

"No one's gonna date us with you in the picture, baby. Honestly?" Haruchiyo chimes in. He sits on the floor next to Kakucho, opposite you. Only when you and Rindou turn your heads his way, your attention fully on him, does he continue speaking. "Even I feel jealous of you, and I'm a part of our threesome."

The interrogation on Rindou’s behalf falls short at that and you slump into scolding Haruchiyo for his poor choice of words to describe your friendship. You argue, as you usually do, because obviously to Haruchiyo the threesome sounds okay and he even claims he heard someone at university refer to your trio using it and he in fact is not the one who came up with it. At that you gasp and a sound too similar to a sad wolf howl comes out of your throat. 

"Actually, you know what I always wanted to ask?" Interrupts Shion. He is taking the first long drag from his cigarette. The smell of smoke that hits Rindou’s nostrils almost immediately indicates that they are cherry-flavored. It's quite a strange choice on Shion's side, if you were to ask Rindou. "How did you all meet? You are super close. I’ve been looking at you today, and if Ran hadn’t told me before that you are seeing someone, I would’ve thought you are dating our birthday boy."

All attention has you as the centre and for a split moment Rindou is sober. All haze and blurriness swept away leaving the palace for stunning clarity. But he feels how tense your limp body gets and he sees his brother who sits at your feet with your left leg thrown over his shoulder, laying his head on your thigh. Ran smirks as he waits for your answer, but he knows his brother the best, so the sweet tender expectancy doesn’t go unnoticed. Nor does the gentle caressing of his fingers around your ankle. 

“We actually met through Haru, who I knew because I am friends with Senju. We went to the same high school.”

Shion nods. He brings a bottle of sui-umeshu to his lips and, not taking his eyes away from you, takes a large sip. When he is done, the sweet liquor swallowed, he asks you, "Why is your boyfriend not here?"

"He isn't my boyfriend yet. We are still figuring it all out," you retort. You tilt your head to the side and playfully smile at Shion. "And just why are you so interested in him?"

“I am not interested in him. I am interested in you.” 

"Oh," the smile is gone from your face and you stare at Shion as if you are seeing him for the very first time. "Thank you."

The rest of the night is spent almost quietly. You dance some more. You drink and Haruchiyo smokes again. This time with Senju on the damp porch. The rain that Rindou never acknowledged has stopped. The air now is cold and crispy. It finally feels like winter is just around the corner. 

The golden light of sunrise adorns the living room, building an illusion of it being way more spacious and bigger than it really is. Rindou can barely stand on his own feet. He so desperately needs to go to bed and sleep until it’s well after noon. And yet, he comes to a halt when he hears your quiet laughing and Ran’s murmuring. Through the buzzing in his head he can’t hear what you are talking about, and even if he wants to eavesdrop, he won’t. He respects you and he respects his brother. He respects his loving touches and he respects your choice. So, he goes straight into the kitchen and the first thing he sees is not your blood splashed across your white t-shirt in bright stains, but Ran’s gentle moves when he wipes your face. Come to think of it, his brother was always like that around you. Curious and tender even in anger. The softness doesn’t evaporate from Ran when he looks up and sees his brother standing in the arc that connects the living room and kitchen. 

"Did you get the nosebleed again?" The house is silent, so Rindou’s voice echoes through it like a bell in the middle of a field.

Somehow, Rindou imagines it’s sunny there in that field of his despite dark heavy clouds hanging low in the sky. It’s going to rain, but before it will, there will be a thunderstorm. This time Rindou is going to be there to see it. 

“Yeah. Don’t worry though. I am just tired. That’s all.” 

Contradiction arises in him and guilt fills his throat to the brim. He can’t say anything so he just stares at the white wet towel  in Ran’s hands. Its twisted tip all red and pulpy. Behind you, on the beige plain wall, is a garland. It says “Happy Birthday Rindou”. He wants to take it home with him and put it under his bed, in his heart, to store it there forever as a reminder that someone cares for him. [Always will]. 

There are so many words and confessions he desires to share with you, but instead, he says, “I am going to sleep. Can we go for yakitori when I wake up? I just know I am gonna be starving.”

“Nankotsu or tebasaki?” Suddenly excited, you turn your head toward him.

“Both?” “Fuck, I love you so much, Rindou! You are the best!” “I know. I know. I love me too.” 

“Okay you all enough with love. Let’s take your makeup off too, while I am at it. Now, look at me.” Without anything to say Rindou leaves. He goes upstairs and without taking a shower goes straight to his makeshift bed for today. He is sharing a room with Kakucho who is already asleep. His light snores break the solemnity of the room.

Undressed, in his boxers, Rindou comes up to the window that overlooks the neighbour's patio. Classic Japanese garden stares back at Rindou and he tries hard to remember when was the last time he saw one. He can’t. It’s a bit sad. He finds himself liking the moss, the rocks and those pretty wooden lanterns. Beauty is simple; he appreciates it. 

At last, he closes the window, shutting curtains tight. Today was a good day. He felt loved and needed and cared for. 

Rindou wishes every day was like this one, but then wouldn’t its significance be lost on him? Life is a contradiction and Rindou loves it too. Just for today he allows himself to. 

xv.

Flowers bloom inside you when Ran’s hips meet yours and you moan into his shoulder, your teeth drawing blood from his skin there. 

Arms limp around his neck, your body violently quivers and he, too vulnerable and high on his own orgasm, spreads his palms across your naked back, running them up and down. Mouth hungry on your skin he leaves open sloppy kisses across your neck. It does little to calm you down. It does nothing at all to subside the hunger and emotions you have for him in this moment [and always]. 

"Shit, I bit you. I am sorry," you say, your breath still hitched. You run a finger across the mark, wiping the blood that stains Ran’s perfectly smooth skin. "Didn't want anyone to hear us. Does it hurt?"

Tilting his head to the side, his palms on the small of your back, Ran inspects the damage. He winces, and in your blissfully tired state, you don’t pay attention to how fake that wince sounds or how unnaturally he grimaces when you touch the wound again. "It…"

He doesn’t have a chance to finish, because you run your fingers around the mark and bring your lips closer to it, pecking the red irritated skin there in an attempt to soothe the pain. Ran freezes. All jokes and teasing he intended to voice die. 

He dies with them.

“Ran are you okay? Does it hurt that much? I kissed it because I thought it might lessen the pain. I probably only irritated it more. I am sorry. Let me go take a look if they have band aids in the bathroom.” You are still sitting on his lap with him inside of you and your legs still tremble, but now only lightly and you think you can stand up and walk the short distance to the en-suite bathroom. But when you lift yourself off him, Ran grips your hips so harshly you yelp. 

You are confused. Lines on your forehead you look at him with a question in your eyes. Did you do something wrong? Was he repulsed by your spontaneous biting? Love is about questions and you drown in them. It’s fortunate that Ran holds you just where you should be held. “Don’t go. It doesn’t hurt at all. I haven’t even noticed you bit me until you said. I was just teasing you.” 

In the silence that follows, each of you think of some distant places that never correlate with each other and yet even there you are together. In the comfortable familiarity and warmth of his body you doze off. Ran’s huge tattoo fades away with every drop of your eyelids; little butterflies landing on ink orchids. You swear you can smell their faint flowery aroma, but that simply can’t be true. 

A lot of things can’t be true and yet you choose to believe in them. 

"A girl today asked me to have sex with her, and I refused," Ran says after a while.

Sleepy, you place your chin on his chest, locking a gaze with him. Ran does have the prettiest eyes, you think. But instead, you ask him, "Was it Ikazuchi?"

His blonde brows coming together, he tries really hard to remember. So hard a deep wrinkle appears on his forehead. You raise your head and smoothe it, waiting for it to disappear. You don’t like seeing him troubled and now he looks like that whole encounter was unpleasant for him. 

"I can’t remember," he says honestly, catching your hand when it wipes at his eyebrows. He brings it to his mouth and kisses your knuckles.

"Oh, it was her. I know," you giggle, a stray ray of bleak mid-autumn sun pecking at your face, causing you to squint as you squirm on top of Ran. He whines, and you press a hand over his mouth, whispering, "Ran, don’t do that! You’ll wake someone up."

You see him roll his eyes, and then it’s you who is screaming, because he holds you by your waist and flips you over, so that you are under him. "So much for 'Ran, don’t!'" He mimics your voice and intonation a bit too perfectly, and then he stops, and you can only imagine what makes him shut up. But he stares at you, his half-closed eyes forever young and full of longing. You can only guess what’s going on in his mind.

Bathed in morning sun and your love Ran looks exceptionally beautiful. 

“What is it?” 

There’s no hesitation in his reply. "You are pretty."

And there’s no hesitation when he brushes his lips against yours. His breath is warm and sweet and he is your new source of air, because altogether you stop to breathe and it’s him who inhales life in you. Like a little lamb before sacrifice you stare at him with wide eyes. So full of questions. So full of don’t you remember I told you not to kiss me before you feel something for me. If you ever feel something for me. 

It’s a plea. It’s an incantation. It’s his chance; his doom and forgiveness. 

“I should’ve done it before,” he mumbles. Lips on lips. He has been inside you a few moments ago and numerous times before that, but you swear he has never been this close. “Should’ve kissed you when I’ve seen you cry that day. Should’ve kissed you when you undid my hair before we went to sleep that very first night. Should’ve fucking known I liked you all this time.”

Salty sad tears draw pretty patterns on your face and you choke on sobs, too overwhelmed, too shocked and so desperately confused. All the thinking process in you comes to a halt - blame it on your tipsiness, tiredness or early hours of the morning - and you shake your head, hands reaching out to Ran, clutching onto him. 

You are contradicting yourself and you know that. But you can’t think what’s more disappointing: that you are uncontrollable or that you don’t believe that Ran likes you. He is made of white lies. Always have been and yet you choose want need to trust him. 

In the clouds of white sheets and duvets he rolls to his side and brings you closer. With one swift strong motion he throws your leg over his hip so even air can’t come between your bodies. He wipes at your face and the uncharacteristic patience and understanding he shows you, are enough for you to peck his lips. He smiles against them, into the kiss, and it’s sincere. 

“Don’t want you to cry,” he whispers. “Especially over me. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

Hand on your waist, Ran nuzzles up to you, his nose brushing over yours and you surrender. 

You fall to pieces. 

“Only wanted to say how I feel. Would’ve done it before if it wasn’t so hard to understand. Why when it’s real it’s so hard to realise you are in love with someone?” 

Leaning your forehead on his, you sniffle, but you aren’t sad anymore and you don’t cry. It’s a light grey feeling that envelopes you and if it means that this is what Ran Haitani’s love feels like you are okay with it. You accept it. 

"It wasn’t hard for me," you say, and Ran reclines back, taking you in, his head and heart full of you.

“What?” “I said it wasn’t hard for me to understand how I feel about you.” He grins then and he looks so boyish, so happy, so content your heart explodes, its broken fragments piercing through his chest to fill up cracks in him where nothing could before. 

This time, when Ran kisses you, his fingers caressing your jaw, you respond to him. It’s shy and testing at first, but soon it gets sloppy and it’s wet and messy and lots of tongue. It’s so so so good you don’t need him to get you ready and you don’t need a lot of time to come undone again. 

Again and again and again. 

xvi.

It’s been weeks since Rindou’s birthday party and by the mouth pressed into thin line and grumpy hooded eyes that Rindou only has with Ran, he can tell that his brother has a lot of questions that burn him on the inside. 

However Rindou doesn’t ask them and Ran would never feed his brother’s pride by responding to them before he was even interrogated. That it’s going to be an interrogation he doesn’t doubt for a split second. Glares and muttering Rindou provides Ran every time they are in the same room are enough to guess. It’s late November when Rindou finally snaps. 

Ran is putting on his black boots he bought a few days ago in Harajuku after getting his hair done when the burning sensation on the back of his head intensifies. It’s a little after eight and he is worried he is going to be late to pick you up from the practice. Earlier today, you agreed to meet at nine thirty. If Rindou holds him for more than three minutes he won’t be there on time and while Ran is always late he hates to be late to you. 

Dressed in all black - black hakama, black button up and black socks - Rindou reminds Ran of a kid who pretends he is into fashion, but can only mix and match black clothes and even that isn't given since Ran can clearly see that Rindou’s hakama is slightly darker than his t-shirt. He bites a smile, averting his eyes from Rindou so he won’t notice the playfulness that spills from him. Of course, Rindou does notice. 

Of course, he groans and Ran can only imagine what names his little brother has called him inside his head. 

"What don’t you like about my outfit this time?” Rindou spreads his hands across his freshly ironed clothes and places them on his hips. He looks down at himself, but Ran is sure that no matter how much he tries, he'll never understand. Finally, he raises his now angry eyes and looks at the smiling Ran. “Is it my pants?”

“No.” 

“Then what is it? I can tell you think there’s something wrong with it.” 

Orange sun paints their apartment in a pretty peach colour. It licks at Rindou’s blonde hair and he is even more handsome than he usually is. Ran looks at him, while he stands before him frustrated, angry and lost, and in this moment he knows he won’t ever forgive himself if he wrongs his younger brother. He doesn’t remember when Rindou became so big and how his shoulders are even broader than Ran’s are and he for sure missed a moment when Rindou started dating, but he will never forget this particular moment. 

When Rindou is twenty and sunset kisses his existence. 

“The hakama colour doesn’t match with the button up.” 

“Oh.” Rindou's fingers circle around the collar of the blouse, and now he isn’t just lost, angry, and frustrated, but also self-conscious and lonely.

As an older brother Ran has - always had and always will - many responsibilities. To provide, to keep safe, to care and to love. To spare from the misery of unknowingness. Never to betray. 

And that’s why, this time, Ran gives in. He kneels down to tie his left boot and answers a question that wasn’t asked but was thought. “Yes, I am going to see her, and then I’ll take her to eat whatever she wants today. We might take a walk right after dinner or go straight to 7-Eleven and buy her favorite pudding and that stupid pizza-flavored snack she likes so much. I’ve grown to like it too by now. It isn’t too bad. Anyway, when we are inside her apartment, I’ll start kissing her the second I close the door behind us, and we’ll probably take it to the shower, and after the shower, to her bed. If she doesn’t fall asleep immediately, we’ll eat, and in the morning…”

“Does she let you eat on her bed?” 

Done with his laces, Ran raises up, he blinks at his brother, and a shit-eating grin spreads on his face. “Well, yes, she does. Always. Why?”

“Really?!” Under the circled tinted glasses, Rindou blinks a couple of times. “She gave me and Haruchiyo a lecture about how we can’t eat in bed. How are you supposed to sleep with crumbs under your asses? You absolutely shouldn’t eat in bed. Especially you, Rindou. You always spill the sauce.”

The imitation of your voice is pretty accurate. Down to the intonation and pauses you do when you are speaking and Ran can’t help, but laugh. His brother does know you well. It’s a pang in his heart. He can’t translate it into words. 

“I guess she just likes you more than us,” concludes Rindou. He adjusts his glasses and points at the pile of shoes by the door, leaving no room for Ran to contradict. Rindou blurts out almost immediately, “YSL or Yamamoto boots? What do you think?”

They settle on the Japanese designer, because Ran claims the European vibe doesn’t really suit Rindou. He also doesn’t change the button-up and it’s been more than three minutes. 

The sky is a deep blue, borderline black, when they enter Itabashi area. The roads are unusually empty for this time of the day and a few stars appear each time it darkens one shade more. Today the world is very beautiful and Ran hopes on his way back it still will be so you can see it yourself too. These floating lights, rich colours and street lamps with their alien light. 

“I don’t think she likes me more, Rin,” Ran's voice breaks the absolute silence that reigns within the car. The engine of Ran’s Honda continues its song, undisturbed and infinite. “Our significance for her is different. And not on the scale of lesser to greater.”

Beside him in the passenger seat, Rindou stretches, his palms hitting the roof of the car. “Honestly? I could kinda tell you were always into each other. All this bickering, sneak glances, accidental touches. And you never once forgot her birthday in three years. Don’t know why I was so surprised she started to smell like you in the summer.”

“Smell like me?” Despite them being on the road Ran turns his head to the left and stares at his brother. “What does it even mean?” To that Rindou never responds. He shrugs as if he never said what he just said and Ran’s curiosity remains a hungry fox. 

In less than twenty minutes they’ll reach you. They both wonder if you will wait for them outside and if not, who of them should come pick you up from the studio. 

“Can we stay at our place today? We can invite Haru, Kaku and maybe Senju over? Would be nice to watch something and eat. I think the DVD rental next to us should be still open.” 

Loneliness, myriads of sparkling little fireflies, illuminate the space between Ran and Rindou, and Ran bumps his brother on the shoulder with his fist, playfully but not too strongly. He communicates to him, "I am always here. I always will be." Then he suggests, “Of course. Shoot them a message. Say the food is on us, but if they want to drink something, they should bring it themselves.”

A huge toothy smile appears on Rindou’s face and that’s how Ran knows his brother understands that love is never divided between people. It’s shared and fed in equal amounts. Just differently. 

“Oh. And mention that if anyone is to crash at our place they might be ready to hear a few whimpers here and there.” 

With his eyes already on the phone, fingers typing away messages to their friends, Rindou raises his head and gives his brother a disgusted look. "What?"

“Your friend is awfully loud in bed. That’s what I am saying.” 

“Gross. Stop the car.” Ran laughs and when he catches Rindou’s smiling, shaking his head in a what-a-bastard way, he laughs some more. The firefly of loneliness is dead by now.

More cars pass them on the highway and nothing feels real. 

xvii.

The park near their house is not that grand as the park you always stop by after Ryou’s parties, but it has a small square playground and that’s all you need. 

Three bags with snacks and cup noodles are forgotten on the bench. Half of the goods lay scattered on the ground, but neither you or Rindou pay much attention to it. You probably haven’t even noticed it yet. Too busy laughing and enjoying yourself. 

It was - of course - your idea to stop by and play. Just for a little, you said, tugging Rindou by the sleeve of his black puffer. Inside the park it’s dark. The lit lamps here and there are the bonbori ones and while they already aren’t the brightest, the shadows of trees absorb whatever lights they illuminate. If Rindou wasn’t Rindou he would find this place creepy. The desertness of it due to the hour only intensifies the feeling. 

But you are happy before him as you sit on the swings swaying back and forth. You laugh loudly and when he drugs you by your waist to the roundabout you scream at him to set you free so loud people in houses nearby might think he wants to murder you. None calls the police though or comes outside so in your wail they might have heard merriness, the same Rindou did. They probably think it’s teenagers in love fooling around.

But you are not teenagers and you aren’t in love.  And that’s what you tell Rindou when you push him into the huge metal circle with holes in it. He does his best to imagine what child game this surrealistic installation serves, but nothing comes to mind. 

"Rindou, I am sorry," your whisper echoes inside the metal walls like an arrow. "I should have told you from the beginning."

"It's alright," he murmurs back instantly. It should be the other way around, you comforting him, but it is not.

"I just think I really, really, really love Ran, and that's why I couldn't tell you."

The confession sits heavy on both of you and the tension made of substantial marine ropes hangs around your necks. In the dark Rindou can’t see you, but he can imagine you playing with your fingers or biting your cheek. Too full of emotions and pregnant with spilled secrets. He knows you too well and you know him well too, so when he outstretches his arm and his hand falls into your, you both giggle. 

“Like I feel bad for not telling you, but I couldn’t help it. He is your brother. I was too shy to tell you. I still am.” 

"You aren't making any sense," he puffs, suddenly sounding a bit angry or maybe tired. Perhaps both. "One second you are declaring you love my brother, and then you say you are bashful about it. It doesn't make any sense." Your hold around his fingers tightens, and he throws his head back, leaning against the cold metal. It would be good to feel its bitter licks against his naked skin, to sober up, jolt back to you, away from his illusions and disappointments. But then, he thinks, even if you threw him into cold Antarctic waters, with your gentle hand in his, he could never be cold. That's why he softly adds, "And I've already told you. It's alright. No matter how I feel about it."

"And how do you feel about it, Rindou?" Instead of sounding bitter or disappointed or angry, you sound mellow and kind. You sound like everything you shouldn't. "I want to know."

When he speaks, it's not what you wanted to hear, but that's all he could say to you now. Or ever. "Ran is my brother, and if something happens, it's him I am going to choose. I want you to know that."

The last sentence is a regretful hum. Barely audible, but still evident. He clutches his eyes shut and holds his breath. What he said to you hurts him badly enough to have them closed forever and he supposes it’s painful for you too. He hopes it doesn’t hurt you as much as it does him. And he is glad it’s really dark in here so you can’t see his shattered heart. 

In an ideal world you’d run away from him or at least be angry. You really should be. He gave you all the reasons too. He desperately wishes for your fury so it eases his turmoils - so he can be mad at you too -  but it never comes. Instead, you fall in his arms and wrap your hands around his shoulders. You breathe him in and smile into his neck. This world, this version of you and him, and everything you are are too far from ideal.  He loves it too.  He loves you. 

“I know that. And I know that you know that it’s okay. I’ll never blame you for choosing Ran and I’ll never leave your side. It’s not even a choice, Rindou. He is literally your brother. Your other half and your only family.” 

“You feel like family too.” 

The walk back to their apartment is mostly silent. Hand in hand, you stroll through the dark alleys of Roppongi that you both know so well, each of you thinking about each other. But thoughts can’t hurt anymore. Not after that small significant moment in the kids playground. Rindou can’t exactly pinpoint what happened, but something did. Was it what you said? Was it what he said? Or perhaps it’s the hug or clasped hands that took the weight from his heart away and glued its torn pieces back together. 

And by the time you are actually inside the apartment, when everyone is already there and waiting for you, Rindou is calm and the part that constantly worried and kept him high on his toes is gone, he doesn’t even remember what it was like to live with it. It’s like he is another person, reborn and better. Still the same Rindou just maybe a tiny bit freer and the sparks in his eyes are shining with new light, new colour, not the absence of it. 

So, when you enter the apartment and you take your shoes off and Ran who meets you by the door notices blood stains on your white socks [a never ending battle between new shoes and dancers] and he scolds you for not telling him earlier that your feet hurt while scooping you away, Rindou doesn’t worry. Nor for your feet. Nor for the ease with which you follow his older brother to the bathroom. Instead, he joins Haruchiyo and Senju who are already there in the living room. Together, they sort out the food you got in the 7-Eleven. For the most part, it’s silent, the TV is off and the door to the bathroom remains open. Rindou can’t see you and neither can Haru or Senju, but they hear you just fine. They hear the water running down and how patiently Ran instructs you to put your feet with socks on in the warm water. He then explains you how they mother and later he himself used to do the same to Rindou when he was little and his new pair of shoes would hurt him so bad, blisters became bloody mess that stuck to fabric of his socks and unless you wanted little Rindou to scream and cry and tear the skin and meat off him, you’d need to soak his feet in the warm water. This way it won’t hurt at all and Ran, assures you, he never wants you to hurt at all. 

In the middle of this conversation Ran also points out that when Rindou was really small he always had socks with Super Mario print on them and if they were ruined for good, he would cry so hard, you’d think someone had died. To that Rindou rolls his eyes and Haru openly laughs, mouthing a silent really? And when Rindou nods, Haru laughs some more and shakes his head in pure amusement. If he or Senju catch on to something they don’t show it or maybe they knew all along, reading into sudden tenderness between you and Ran quicker than Rindou had. At this point, it’s all in the past. He doesn’t care. 

The indifference remains when Ran makes you take a shower and dresses you in his clothes. His brother stays the same and you despite looking too adorable in Ran’s old loose black t-shirt, too are the same you were before. You still bite your cheek and you still sit between Rindou and Haruchiyo, leaning your head against Haru’s shoulder. 

And yet, the stoic callousness Rindou has been experiencing through the whole evening, evaporates when Ran finds you sitting on the floor by the ceiling to floor window. The white letters that form actors and crew names flow inside the screen of their Panasonic Viera and the light in the room hasn’t been turned on yet. The boxes of instant ramen are left on the floor around the sofa and armchair. The air still smells like chicken and miso. Next to him Haru stretches in his place and yawns. Rindou is too exhausted - mentally and physically equally - but he doesn’t want to go to sleep yet. Today was different, but pleasant all the same. He doesn’t want this day to end. That’s why when Shion, who came along with Kakucho just after you were done with your shower, starts his usual post-movie banter about the hidden philosophy behind the story you just watched, Rindou happily joins, effortlessly lurking into the conversation. It’s then, in the middle of the heated argument that Rindou tries to justify his judging of the poor choice that the main character made in favour of her lover other than her career that he finally takes in consideration the vacant place to his left. He wanted to ask you what you think, what would’ve you done if you were to choose between your dream job and your boyfriend. 

But you aren’t beside him and Rindou hadn’t noticed when you disappeared or why. 

The confusion on his face must be evident because Kakucho who sits opposite him grins and with his chin points at something behind Rindou’s back. He doesn’t really need to turn his head and see for himself what’s going on. Kakucho’s happy mischievous eyes tell him all there’s to know. 

But he does turn and he does see you and Ran talking in low voices in front of the dark night and myriads of small lights of someone else’s lives. The whole room falls silent then and in this short pause Rindou remembers how you once told him that those windows are your favourite place to be in their apartment. 

It’s like you are alone in this wild wild world, but never lonely. Just how many people live in Tokyo. Isn’t it crazy we are part of them? Do you think they think about us too sometimes? 

You must be telling Ran exactly the same thing or something along those lines you shared with Rindou years ago. His eyes shift into two slits and he smiles at you. Softly. Fondly. Lovingly. His hand rises to your face, caressing it gently, thumbs ghosting over your jaw. The closing credits end and the TV blazes with white colour so bright it lights up the whole living room and bits of kitchen. But no one seems to care. Everyone watches Ran leaning into you and planting a kiss to your lips. It’s sweet and familiar. It holds something sacred that no one in the room even after witnessing it would understand. It’s beyond everyone. 

"You mean to tell me that when I asked for her number and Ran told me she’s seeing someone, that someone was him?" Fully confused, a cloud settles over Shion’s scrunched face. "What a fucking bastard. He should have just told me she was his."

At that, Kakucho laughs and shoves his elbow between Shion’s ribs, then winks at Rindou whose cheeks are now burning red. “Some things aren’t that easy to voice, Shi. Especially when it comes to love. It’s not like Ran would’ve come up to us for love advice. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Shion hums in agreement, still seemingly perplexed at the sudden revelation. It’s not clear whether he even understood Kakucho’s comment.

“And besides, you'd be a moron to think that Ran wasn’t seeing someone,” Kakucho adds, resting his head against the back of the love seat armchair. He closes his sly eyes and bites his lower lip to hide a smile.

“Why is that?” Shion asks, obviously believing that "the moron" comment was directed at him. He turns his head to the left, looking at Kakucho, who cracks his right eye open. The playful smirk is still on Kakucho's lips.

“Because when that little bimbo girl that Ran was going crazy about made a move on him in the club, he rejected her.”

“Which girl? When?” It's clear that Shion doesn't remember the incident, and neither do Rindou, Haruchiyo, or Senju. They all eagerly wait for Kakucho's explanation, but he remains silent.

The tease that he is, he only opens his mouth after finishing his can of Coca-Cola.

“I don’t remember her name, but I think it was written with the kanji for 'blue.' She kept mentioning it to Ran. Like, 'Don’t you think it’s pretty? Don’t you like it? You said you liked it before,'” it's evident that reminiscing about this is quite painful for Kakucho, and Rindou genuinely pities him. He hates Ran's fickleness. He hates Aoki Ogura even more, even if she was never one of the girls he slept with.

That it’s her Kakucho is  speaking about Rindou has no doubts whatsoever. 

“Oh, well. It’s not like Ran had ever liked a decent girl. They were always so fucking annoying. Remember the one that barged into the classroom for him to talk things out?” 

Down the memory lane they go, and Rindou barely listens to them anymore. There’s nothing new for him to hear. He too became a victim of Ran’s romantic encounters. [If you can call them as such, because besides sleeping once and never again, Ran and those girls had literally nothing going on]. 

“Our baby isn’t annoying,” eyes lidded from tiredness Haruchiyo whines, invisibly tugging Rindou by the hair out from his thoughts. Kakucho and Shion too turn at him, slight surprise on their face and Haruchiyo groans seemingly disturbed that he would need to elaborate. “My baby isn’t annoying or something. She is the best and Ran actually really really really likes her. So don’t say he never liked a decent girl, cause my baby is the best and Ran loves her very much.” 

The trip in Haruchiyo words is intentional and that’s how everyone knows he is being sincere. No one argues and Rindou pats his shoulder, agreeing. 

You are the very best. 

And, yes, his brother likes you a lot. Loves, even. 

xviii.

This January is awfully rainy and Haruchiyo thinks it fucking sucks. 

Not because of the dampness and the cold, but because he can’t light a cigarette outside on the campus and instead needs to smoke in the clamped smelly toilets. Observing the rain, he actually likes it since he’s been a little kid, from the circled window adds little to the pleasure of inhaling the fog into his lungs. 

At this point he might as well give up on smoking. 

In slow deliberate motions he pulls the pack out of his trousers and cracks it open counting the cigarettes. He places a bet that if it’s more than seven he won’t give up and if it’s less than that then maybe his smoker habit will end now. 

Eleven cigarettes look back at him and he smiles, kisses the pack and slips it back into the pocket. 

Today is his lucky day. 

“Knew I’d find you in here.” Across the bathroom scrawls a harsh slap of the door and Rindou barges in. His blonde hair disheveled and wet from the rain. He doesn’t need to tell him that he’s been outside a mere second ago. There’s a grave coldness from his damp coat and his heart. Haruchiyo squints his eyes and decides, almost certain, that you two haven’t talked yet. 

“I assume you haven’t talked yet,” as always straightforward Haruchiyo doesn’t wait for Rindou to bring up the topic. 

He dives in without a single pint of hesitation. He cocks his head and laughs when Rindou shakes his head an affirmative ‘no’. 

In between those two weeks you haven’t spoken with one another, it seems like nothing much really changed. When it comes to you Rindou still loses his ability to speak coherently. He still lowers his head down and looks at the floor. This time he also steals a cigarette from Haruchiyo’s “Hope”. The irony in seeing Rindou clutching to a literal hope in his hands would be funny, if this irony wasn’t a suffocating pool of your tears and sour expression.  

So he doesn’t laugh. Haruchiyo suffocates. 

For just a little while he needs to talk about something else and that’s why he recites to Rindou who now sits on the low windowsill about the bet he had earlier with the cigarettes. Any other day, they would laugh at it so hard and Rindou would tease him so badly, the back of their throats would hurt them from saying too much and talking too loudly. But not now. 

Now Rindou just cracks a smirk and crashes the cigarette between his fingers. The white paper snapping in two. 

Then, he is back to you. [Like always.]

“Is she alright?” Is all he asks. 

Any other day Haruchiyo would tease him, but not today. Not now when his best friend is grayer than the clouds outside in the sky. 

“Caught her crying yesterday while she was making us tonkatsu. Said she’s fine and it’s just onion.” 

“There wasn’t any onion?” 

“Bingo,” Haruchiyo puts the cigarette out, pressing its flame against the white wall. There’s quite a few fading black spots of the same size around the surface indicating he’s been here before. 

“I miss her,” the confession slips out of Rindou’s mouth effortlessly and easily, but the dead weight in his chest doesn’t lessen. It hurts all the same. “I can’t talk to her though. I mean I am totally on Ran’s side. How could she believe her out of all people? I swear if that little bitch told me she fucked Ran I would’ve never believer her.” 

And that’s a lie and they both know it. 

“She haven’t told her she fucked Ran. She’s been whispering about it with Misa when my baby was there practising. She made sure she heard that and then she added he called her little love while he was balls deep inside her. Of course it hurt. Fictional or not.” 

Rindou sighs, banging his head against the window, drops of rain chaotically sliding down. “No doubt, but Ran told me nothing of the sort happened. Besides, he hasn't seen Aoki in a while. Ran might be Ran, but this is not a thing he would do.” “Then, he should’ve explained himself properly,” Haruchiyo retorts, his smart eyes peering into Rindou. “One text and no visits screams to me as a lack of interest.” “He is just too prideful and it’s not like it’s easy on him too. All he does is sleep, eating and beating the shit out of me. Yesterday he snapped because I put soya sauce in the fridge and apparently you don’t store it there. There’s a cupboard for it,” the mocking comes out perfectly and Haruchiyo cracks a smile. He spots a light purple colour he hasn’t noticed before on Rindou's cheek and presses his lip into the thin line. Smile evaporating from his face. Again, it’s gloomy. “You know, Haru, I might try to talk to her on the day of the showcase. I am quite positive Ran might come around by then too. We can go celebrate it at Shabuan then. Yeah. That’s what we do.” Your showcase is five days from now and Haruchiyo doubts much will change and yet he hopes. And so he nods, gathers his things from the floor and hugging Rindou by the shoulders leads him to the dining hall. After smoking he is always hungry. 

Just a day before your grand performance Haruchiyo stops by your apartment and spends the night. 

All you do is talk and it’s light and enjoyable and for the first time this month his heart stings a pretty pain. And that’s why, desping knowing, it’s wrong and the time is not right [but when is it right?] he mentions that Rindou is coming tomorrow to see you. 

The brief glint of joy that lights up your eyes doesn’t escape him. But it’s there for a mere second and then you are you again. Without Rindou or Ran in your life. 

“Tell him to stay in the back then. He would distract me with his stupid face and I want everything to go smoothly tomorrow,” he knows you are only half joking and he makes a point to actually hold Rindou at the back. But then it won’t do any good, because you’ll stumble upon him in the crowd anyway. You two could never escape each other and Haruchiyo feels slightly jealous. Then, you add, in a whisper. “It might be my last year at the university after all.” 

It’s a slip up on your side because your eyes go wide and you stare at him and then hurriedly you sprint to the bathroom and stay there for seventeen minutes and when you come out you say you are going to sleep. Tomorrow is a big day after all. 

Patient and sweet, Haruchiyo nods and takes a step forward, lurching you into a big hug. He kisses the crown of your head and feels you tremble in his arms. You might think he is someone else, but he is not, and he leans back, looking at you with a genuine kind smile that screams at you you are home and whatever you do I’m right here. 

He knows he doesn’t need to say anything and yet he does. “Whatever you do or say it’s right to me. If you want to drop out then be it. If you want to switch majors or change universities be it. Mhm? Now, go rest and do your best tomorrow. I'll be right there and so will be Rin.” 

You nod at him and disappear to your bedroom. Back in time, you would always share the bed, but today there’s a pillow and a blanket on the sofa and it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve been with Ran and yet you still have his claim over you. 

Hands on his tummy Haruchiyo lies on your sofa. Green plant with wide leaves tickles his feet and he stands up to move it aside. He wonders if even one night Ran spent on his couch and he laughs to himself at this absurd thought. 

Of course not. Ran’s place is by your side. Body is made of muscles, flesh and skin, Haruchiyo thinks, blood and bones. Hair and nails. 

But not yours. 

Yours is made of Ran touches and his presence. His sweet words and loving stares. 

It probably eats you alive on the nights when he is not with you. On those days you are restless and tired and lonely and your body is burning and your mind is tortured. On those days you think, you think, you think and there’s no end to it. No salvation and no easiness. No ice pressed to the wound. Nothing. Just you and black absence of Ran and what he is. 

Today is such a day and it hurts you and Haruchiyo drowns in your pain as nothing more exists in your small apartment in Nippori. 

On the day of the showcase it’s snowing. The world is white and very beautiful. 

Despite it being awfully cold Haruchiyo is only wearing a thin leather jacket Senju got him for his eighteenth birthday years ago. It’s his favourite. Under it is a thick navy sweater. This too is a gift, but from you. A spontaneous one. You said to him you got it because it reminded you of him. How and why you associated it with him is a mystery. He never asked you. But he likes it no less than the leather jacket. 

He is wearing them both today. 

When Rindou comes in, cheeks red from cold and hair messy from running down the hall, he is afraid he missed your performance. 

“The road was so fucking slippery and Ran wasn’t home so I used my Kawasaki to get here,” Rindou explains in a hushed whisper. 

“Does Ran know today is the showcase day?” 

Before replying, Rindou rolls his eyes. The question is a bit stupid, Haruchiyo agrees. Ran knows everything about you. “Of course he does. And I told him about the dinner too, but he hasn’t said a thing back which is a good sign. He might actually come. I was hoping he would be here already, but I guess you haven’t seen him.” 

Haruchiyo shakes his head. He hasn’t seen Ran here and when he parked his own Kawasaki - a model just below Rindou’s -  he didn't see Ran’s car everywhere. Not that he looked specifically for it so it might be that he just hadn’t noticed it. 

The conversation between them is cut short, because you appear on the stage. There’s no music yet. Just a red draped curtain behind you and a circle of light in which you stand. All eyes are on you, but it seems like no one notices the slight shaking of your right hand that is raised in the air. Nor do they see your wobbly legs. 

The music plays and you start to dance. This time, unlike last year, you don’t have a costume on. It’s your usual practising attire that you wear. A leotard and shorts. And Haruchiyo wonders if it’s meant to be that way. He squints his eyes and tries to convey what your dance is about, but he can’t understand a thing. It confuses him because never before did that ever happen. 

Haruchiyo blinks and turns to Rindou. [He believes Rindou always understood you better. Which isn’t true at all. He just tries harder.]

“What the fuck is going on?” Is all he says. 

“She’s hurting. Physically. Something is hurting her, but… It’s her feet. Shit! Haru, we need to stop it. She’s hurting herself.” 

The broken clock inside Haruchiyo clicks and all the gears fall into their right place. For once he gets it. The strange outfit, the mannerism, the simplicity of it all and the absence of everything. The blood on your feet and wet stains you leave after yourself. 

In the second row someone is sick. The small girlish voice shouts something that couldn't be heard under the weight of your performance. No one can tear their eyes away from you and even Rindou who was so eager to help you stays frozen to the place. 

Cruelty and violence are always marvelling. It’s in their ugly beauty that people find themselves. 

It ends as quickly as it started. 

The girl from the second row marshes through the open door to the safety of the halls and Haruchiyo recognizes in her Aoki Ogura. He notices her crying red face, but does nothing to stop her. There’s guilt evident in her scared eyes and Haruchiyo hopes she suffocates in it. The last thing he hears from her is her throwing up somewhere down the corridor. He wonders if she’s embarrassed. For what she did to you and for the pool of acid that somebody will clear up for her lately. 

The light is on and the music is off when you take your dance shoes off and shake them in the air. The broken glass and razors waterfall to the floor and you smile widely. Almost insanely. Your mouth quivers as if you want to say something, but at last you don’t. You place your shoes soaked with blood in the middle of the stage and bow. Then you leave. Then Rindou takes off and latches himself onto the dean of the Univercity. His beige coat covers them both as he strikes the old man in the face. Once. Twice. Thrice. No one is stopping him. 

Everyone is still staring at your shoes. 

The night is dark and the snow is still falling when Haruchiyo finds you splayed out on the asphalt in the middle of the parking lot. 

For a mere moment he stops and he feels like the whole world stops too. It’s silent as he paints the image of you laying on the ground with a thin white veil hugging your body that reminds him too much of cerements. 

The image is sorrowful and it’s beautiful. Like you, this night and bloody snow. 

Your wounds are still open and bleeding. 

“What on Earth were you thinking?” As always Haruchiyo isn’t harsh or reprimanding you.

He isn’t Rindou to scold you for your stupidities and he isn’t Ran to worry about you more than he needs to just because you are you. Haruchiyo loves you in a special way where he doesn’t try much, but gives you everything anyway. 

“I just wanted them to see what I am,” you utter, cracking your eyes open. “Just wanted them to know I am enough. No glass or razors can stop me.” There’s something else you aren’t saying, but Haruchiyo knows what it is already. He kneels down to you and a smile on his face matches yours. Tired, but triumphant. 

“Art is a beautiful form of expression, isn’t it?” The question is rhetoric and he isn’t expecting you to answer him so he takes a deep breath and takes your hand in his. A mere reassurance and everything beyond it. “Now, let’s get you to the hospital. Gotta make sure you are okay.” ‘Thank you, Haru.” 

“Anytime, love.” The night is dark and beautiful and full of light that shines right through you and those you care about. 

Since early childhood Haruchiyo hated hospitals. 

He hated the lethargic smell, the richness of white colour everywhere and apologetic gazes of the stuff. Blunt himself he couldn’t stand the half-said truth and insincere apologies. He avoided hospitals like plague. And maybe if Rindou wasn’t so occupied with getting his anger out on the dean, he wouldn’t have taken you there himself, instead handing this task to Rindou. 

But here he is. An hour later with you submitted and Rindou in the emergency care getting his broken nose checked. Doctors said he might need a cast. Haruchiyo can barely picture Rindou with a white cast across his face, but he laughs nonetheless. He doubts it will cut the girls off Rindou though. The last time he got into a fight - on your behalf again - and had bruises all over his face, every single girl at university had fallen in love with him. Thus, if they weren’t in love with him before. 

Haitani curse. 

So, Haruchiyo really really really doubts the cast will scare anyone. 

More time passes and then Rindou joins him in the waiting area. Without cast, but with a plaster across his handsome face. Haruchiyo grins at the sight and Rindou elbows him between his ribs. Not hard. Playfully. 

All the anger gone from his being. 

As they wait for the news on your condition they stay silent. Each thinking of you, but probably in very different contexts. It’s only fair as you were never the same for them. Stagnancy and constancy were never your forte. You are the best at evolving, moving and… dancing. 

The doctor leads them both to your appointed room. He is a handsome male in his early thirties and he is very to the point when he says that you will be okay and that they cleaned your wounds and bandaged them and that you will need to do the same procedure for at least two weeks until you are fully healed. Some cuts were too deep, he mentions, if they weren’t it wouldn’t take so long. He mentions that you also needed stitches on your left sole, but it’s too nothing to worry about and you don’t need to get them taken off at the hospital, they will dissolve with time. 

He tells all that under three minutes that it takes him to guide boys to your room. He opens the door and hastily adds that today you will need to stay here, but tomorrow you can probably go home. Probably. If the blood that they drew from you is good and there’s no infections. 

The chances for that are low. Don’t worry. And with that he is gone. 

On the huge medical bed with both your bandaged feet poking out of the thick duvet you look almost comical. Haruchiyo wants to say just that, but notices how your eyes widen and mouth hangs open and then your arms are open, inviting Rindou for a hug. In his hold you cry. 

“I am so sorry,” you repeat again and again. 

It’s a loud mantra, a plea, and Haruchiyo isn’t that sure it’s intended solely to Rindou.

“You shouldn’t be. It’s okay. I am glad you are okay. I am so fucking glad you are fine.” But Rindou can’t peel himself off you and Haruchiyo understands why. He understands why your fingers are in his blonde hair and why your tears salten his cheek; why you can’t pull yourself away from his comfort.  

He doesn’t interrupt. He lets you soak in Rindou and lets Rindou enjoy the feeling of your warm skin. The sight is quite usual to him - you and Rindou, and Haruchiyo to have always been very touchy among each other - but there’s something new, something raw and therefore incredibly sincere between your bodies that attracts his attention. 

He feels like he is intruding so he turns away and walks to the window. The snow is still falling and the night is quite dark, but in the parking lot he can see Ran’s white Honda that stands proudly under the light of the streetlamp and his mouth stretches into a knowing smile. Haruchiyo closes his eyes thinking that what were the odds of your windows facing the fucking parking lot.

Life, it seems, is full of sweet coincidences and their outcomes.

“Honestly, I was half expecting my brother to get expelled at one point, but you, love? Never.” 

Ran’s voice is sweet with just a tinge of mocking to it. Only he can speak like that. Haruchiyo is a firm believer no one in the whole world can insult you and charm you at the same time as well as Ran can. 

And then it’s you and Haruchiyo doesn’t need to turn around and open his eyes to see how you slowly pull away from Rindou. How you close off for a second, eyes going wide as if you witnessed the most vile horror. How your lips tremble and how your whole body melts. How you pick yourself up and notice the soft gaze that Ran reserves only for those he loves. How he looks at you and no one else. 

How you understand once again what it means and how you fall into Ran again. How you love him and how he loves you. 

Love is yet a foreign concept to Haruchiyo and he hates hospitals, but he thinks he understands. 

He doesn’t need to see to feel it all. 

“I was dropping out anyway,” you confess. “What’s in the bag?” 

“Purin daifuku, those pizza chips, Pocky and soda.” 

“You didn’t bring anything for us?” If Rindou tries to hide the fact that he is a bit offended, he does it poorly. 

“No, I didn’t. You can’t stay here for the night anyway.” Ran says in his usual calm tone. Then he addresses you. “I asked if I could take you home today, but they told me we need to wait for the results till morning. Stupid if you’d ask me. But I’ll keep you company. You both can go now.” 

Under different circumstances Haruchiyo would have argued with Ran. Just for the sake of it. But right now, when he turns around and sees Ran sitting on your bed, his long hair down, head resting against yours as he holds both of your hands in his, all the words die in his throat. 

But not Rindou’s. His best friend seems agitated. “What do you mean? Why can’t we stay and you can?” “Only close family and such can stay with a patient overnight. If I were you I wouldn’t be worried about that, but about an ugly bruise that’s gonna appear on your face tomorrow. You better go home and apply that Kobayashi cream we have. Works like a miracle.” 

“Since when are you her close family?” Deliberately Rindou ignores Ran’s warnings, latching onto what he wants to know. “Okay. Let’s go, Rin.” Haruchiyo grabs Rindou by his elbow and pulls him towards the door. “We’ll see you both tomorrow.”

When Haruchiyo closes the door behind him he catches the last glimpse of you and Ran. For a split moment that will forever float between those walls of the patient room, he sees Ran leaning closer to you. He watches as his fingers brush across your jaw and your breath hitch. Ran smiles at you and his smile is so gentle, so loving, so comforting and reassuring. Haruchiyo understands why you were hurting so much when Ran wasn’t with you. He finally understands the longing. 

And yet, the smile is nothing compared to the way he looks at you. The pure raw affection he reserves just for you, that was never and will never be spent on anybody else, excludes Haruchiyo fastly and sharply. He is not needed there. No one is. 

He closes the door and sighs. Maybe hospitals aren't that awful after all. 

The thin paper doesn’t do much to prevent their asses from freezing. It was Rindou’s idea - a bad one - to lay down a thick layer of newspaper he spotted in the reception room on the parapet so they could sit on it and share a cigarette before deciding what to do next. Now it got all soggy from the snow and brought more wetness. It was like sitting in a dirty puddle. 

But the view from here was quite serene and a cigarette pleasantly burnt their throats so none of them moved. Before them was a highway and each passing car passed so fast from where they were it looked like it flew in the air. Their tires high in the sky, the lights guiding beacons. It reminded Haruchiyo of a sci-fi movie Takeomi once rented at a DVD store near their old flat. Title and plot of it was completely forgotten, but finding himself in a similar scenery brought back the unusual feeling of childish excitement. Something new was before them and Haruchiyo couldn’t wait for it. 

“Don’t you feel a bit sad?” Asked Rindou breaking the silence. 

Haruchiyo expected this question and even though he was thinking of the perfect answer for it for a while nothing right came to his head. Maybe there’s questions and problems that will never be solved and maybe that’s okay. Maybe not everything needs to be perfectly in order. 

“Don’t we always feel a bit sad?” The cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth Haruchiyo turned around and looked at his best friend. “Wouldn’t it be a boring plain world if we were happy all the time?” Rindou shrugs. Between the snowflakes and lights from the hospital windows he looks exceptionally beautiful. “I wouldn’t mind being happy all the time.”

“You only think so, Rin. And anyway it’s not like she’s gone. She’s still our best friend and will always be this. You were stupid to not talk to her. Now that you finally made up I can finally tell you that.” 

Haruchiyo laughs. His laugh is dry, but sincere. The bark he produces would suit a gangster way more than it suits him now, but maybe under the layer of time and all possible varieties that is our life somewhere out there he is one. 

Everything is possible and nothing is sure. 

“And don’t you think Ran always kinda liked her? I thought that it might be because she’s your best friend that he is attentive to her, but now that I am thinking about it I am not really sure.” 

Rindou takes off his fogged up glasses and reaches Haruchiyo to wipe them with the sweater you bought. He sighs. “Well, yeah. I mean Ran isn't a douchebag to other girls, but he was extra nice with her. I wonder when he understood it. She told me they spent a lot of time together during summer. So it probably happened then.”

“Probably.” Not that it matters now, Haruchiyo wants to add, but doesn’t. Instead, he asks. “What are you gonna do now that you got expelled?” 

“I am going to run a nightclub. Make my fucking dream come true. Ran said we have enough money to rent a decent place in Roppongi. In a couple of years if everything goes alright we can buy it and make it truly ours. What do you think she’s gonna do?” The wind blows south and snow stops falling. Everything seems still. Somewhere behind in the building is you and Ran. Probably talking or kissing. It doesn’t matter since you have each other. And Haruchiyo has Rindou. And to be honest, you are never truly alone. There’s always someone with you or within you. Present now or in the past. 

Wickedly Haruchiyo smiles and stands up from the parapet. His pants are thoroughly soaked, but he is warm. Despite everything, today is a good day. “Don’t you know? She’s gonna look out for the kid her and Ran made a couple of months ago.” Haruchiyo watches Rindou’s face fall and he laughs, licking his lips. “I am kidding. Or not really. Saw a test in her bathroom when I stayed over and she mentioned dropping out to me. Said she was sick of dancing. Don’t make such a face, Rin!” Haruchiyo laughs again and again and then Rindou laughs too. “We can think about this in the morning… Now don’t you want to eat something? I am fucking starving.” “Ramen or soba?” “Soba.” “Well, soba it is then. Let’s go.” Their motorcycles roar a long time after they are gone, but the smell of youth they carried never fades away. 

It stays forever. 

#haitani brothers #haitani x reader #haitani ran imagines #ran haitani #ran haitani x y/n #ran haitani x reader #ran haitani scenarios #ran scenarios #ran fluff #ran #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev smut #ran smut #rindou haitani #ran x reader #tokyorev x reader #tokyo revengers x reader

[itstheghostofmypast]

Music To My Ears

Five x Talkative Wife

Note: Okay, so I've had this idea for a long time, basically a HC of what it would be like if Five (when he comes back to 2019) brings along his wife who is also his partner from the commission- who is super talkative, especially when she's nervous.

Five x FemReader

Gif Credit to rightful owner

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

The first time he had seen Y/N, he simply wanted to kill her. Not only did she give away his hiding spot from the enemy but she would not STOP TALKING.

"Hi! I'm Y/N, I don't really have a last name, but it's an honour to meet you Mr.Five Sir. You're a lege-"

"Shhh!"

"It's alright they won't hear us!"

"Woman, please I don't need a partner, especially not one as annoying as Klaus!"

"Whose Klaus?"

"Tch no one-"

"HEY THEY'RE OVER THERE"

"SHIT"

And on that same mission Five got shot in the leg, which she kept apologising for over and over again, until he had to verbally say 'IT'S FINE PLEASE, JUST STOP TALKING I NEED TO THINK!'

Slowly, verrry slowly, she began to grow on him, killing wasn't his most favourite part of the job, and everytime she began talking nonsense he could tell she wasn't a fan of it either.

It didn't take him long to figure out that she would ramble on for hours a day when she was scared, nervous or just tired, especially on gruesome missions.

Yes, she would not stop talking even when she was drained. At one point he wondered if Delores thought he spoke a lot too. Until she ended up changing the topic of conversation around 5 times in 1 hour- no, this lady was a crackhead.

It was almost a year in their partnership and the Handler was pleased with their work. For Five was already a legend, he learnt that other than the useless chatter, the girl was a great assassin- quick, slick and brutal.

On one occasion, when Five was cornered and exhausted, he thought he was toast, almost ready to give up. He heard, "NOONE CORNERS MY PARTNER!" And gun shots.

They were all shot in the head

"Execution style?"

"Actually, I was super mad at you when you told me to stay at the motel because I'm very annoying and noisy. Like I get I can't be Delores but please I am my own person! I don't need to be someone else for you to accept me and hey! I am a great assassin by the way! Sure I talk a lot but before your rude a** came along I was running the show punk and-"

"Thank you Y/N, you saved my life today."

And that leaves her speechless, a whole year of knowing him, he had never thanked her, let alone ever spoken to her softly.

He smiles at her and hobbled to the car muttering a , 'You don't have to be Delores, you're better of as you.'

And that was the first mistake the boy made, because after that he began to notice more things about her that he liked.

The way she would ever so politely talk to people. How she was able to get intel by being nice- instead of using the interrogation methods he used.

More than often things would flow smoothly if she would do the talking.

3 years in and he wakes up one night, to get water and realises that she's not on the other bed. So he checks the washroom and she isn't their too.

Grabbing a bathrobe he goes out to the motel parking and finds her sitting on a bench, the cold night breeze tossing her hair around as she grips onto her cup- tea he presumes.

So, like any sane person he decides to give her some privacy, until he hears her sniff.

He goes and sits beside her and is just:

'Wanna talk?"

"No"

"NO?!?!?"

And she shakes her head, so he doesn't encourage her to speak, instead sits their quietly beside her, letting her cry silently.

An hour later he realises her head is on his shoulder and she mutters,

"When you go back, will you leave me?"

"I don't know..."

"Can I come with you?"

"You? But, I'm no fun nor a party goer, darlin' . I'll probably end up being an a** to you-"

"Would an a** have sat with me in the middle of a chilly night outside, letting me cry?"

And for once in his life Five had no answer. The resident genius had no clue to why her words had brought a sensation of tightness around his chest, why he felt her words cut through him. Was he actually going to leave her? If there was anyone (after Delores) who understood him, or rather had the balls to stand up to him, it was her. Yet, he had never realised how vulnerable she was on the inside.

That night ignites a fire within him, because 2 months later, on a mission in Hawaii, where the two are standing in a field of dead bodies he turns to her. All bloody and messy,

"Hey!"

"yes?"

"NOW GIVE ME A STRAIGHT ANSWER, YOU GOT IT?"

Utterly confused, she nods at the weirdo who looked like he was about to explode.

"MARRY ME?"

"Sure."

"I SAID A STRAIGHT ANSWER NOT A LONG EXPLANATION YOU - wait what?"

"I said, yes, Five Hargreeves, I'd like to spend whatever days I have left with an a** like you."

Cue the most abrupt and small wedding and exchanging of vows. Not that it mattered to either of them, because as soon as their 'secret wedding' was over, they were sent on another mission.

Naturally, she was rambling along the entire way,

"I really thought we could have cake though, but I guess we did have to keep it low key, oh speaking of low-key, I booked us a fancy couple's room I had been saving money for

( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)"

"What's with the face"

"You know~"

"Okay, I officially married Klaus."

"but, but, but you love me either way~"

"Seems to be so, now please stay quiet, we're entering their base and the last thing I want is to lose my wife on the second day of my marriage."

"WAIT WHAT"

"SHHH!"

Give or take many years later, the couple in their fifties is staring at the blue portal. Holding hands, both nervous, one quiet while the other...

"THIS BETTER WORK FIVE, I BETTER NOT END UP BEING TELEPORTED TO THE 1500's I AM TELLING YOU! WAIT! I DONT EVEN KNOW THE NAMES OF YOUR SIBLINGS, OTHER THAN VANYA AND KLAUS -"

"SILENCE WOMAN, ON THE COUNT OF THREE WE JUMP. 1 ...2-"

"3 I WIN"

And she pulls him into the portal as he yells at her.

The two end up on the ground with a loud thud.

Getting up he pulls her up and is just staring at her, up and down.

"Really Five, not a good time to be checking me out- wait why are you a child"

"shit."

"does anyone see a little number Five with ...a random girl?"

Without responding he drags her into the kitchen, the siblings following in right after. Watching him make her sit on a chair at the end of the table while he is preparing something.

Slowly they start interrogating him.

"It's been 22 years Number Five, where have you been?'

"It's been a lot longer than that."

"What happened to you?"

He places a sandwich infront of her and starts to devour his own.

"What do you think happened? I decided to test the limits of my time jumping, see how far I could go. Turns out, pretty far."

"Then how did you get back?"

By now, Y/N is visibly shaking in her chair, too nervous to even eat, staring up at Five who seems to be having a a not to pleasant conversation with his siblings.

Before responding to Allison he turns to look at her,his features softening, something ALL the siblings notice, "It's okay..." He whispers to her, "Eat."

"By projecting our consciousness backwards into a suspended quantum state version of us that exists in every possible instance of time."

"That makes no sense."

"It would if you were smarter."

"Granted, it did take me a little time to work out all the nuts and bolts of it."

Five notices that she's still not eating and he frowns only to glare at his siblings, "Stop staring at her you're freaking her out."

"US? YOU BROUGHT A RANDOM KID HERE FIVE"

"Random kid?" She slams down her sandwich. As Five smirks, 'well, at least she's better now'.

"I AM NO RANDOM KID, IM HIS WIFE. And by the way HE ISNT CRAZY- other than THIS MAN IN A NICE SKIRT I DONT SEE ANYONE WHO ONCE ASKED HIM HOW HE WAS? OR IF HE WAS OKAY? OR IF HE WAS ALONE!"

"Oh? danke- WAIT WIFE? Five DID U KIDNAP HER @?!"

"No, we're in our fifties."

"WHAT"

"Yes, now well that's established, Five we should really hurry up. Also, why don't any of you look similar? Didn't your dad die today? Wait, are you all here for a funeral - you guys have been fighting ever since you showed up huh? Not a lot of love I see, no wonder my husband's a little crackhead too. By the way, why are you so big? Oh- *turns to Vanya* you're the lady from the book, nice book by the way, family tea is the best, not that I'd know, I have no recollection of mine-" with that she got up and randomly walked out of the kitchen, a nervous wreck, something only Five could see.

"Five is she insane?"

"Ofcourse not you big ape."

They could still hear her go on about something from the other side of the house to which Diego frowned, "She talks a lot."

Five just grabbed his sandwich, walking out of the room, with a

"It's music to my ears."

⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

Note: OKAY SO THIS IS KINDA SHITTY? I don't know I just had to get it out of my system!, I hope y'all like it😭🥺❤️

TUA Taglist: @imaginesfire , @placidpluto , @achingwoundforaheart , @esmaada , @samyourneighbor , @xuenihao , @whoreofscience , @navs-bhat , @yuuki4646 , @simpformoonkight , @crowleysqueenofhell ,@anapotatowriter thank you, you lovely people for choosing to be part of my taglist ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ✩‧₊˚)

#ben hargreeves #five x you #five x y/n #five x reader #five hargreeves #five hargreaves x reader #tua x reader #tua #diego hargreeves #vanya #victor hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #allison hargreeves #fanfic #tau fanfic #headcanon #five x wifereader #the umbrella academy #sparrow academy #tua s1 #pleaseijustneededitoutofmysystem

[writingsfromhome]

Impossibly Real II

Y’all loved Part 1 and honestly were so sweet about it. I had to wrap up their story in return 💗

——————————————————

Harry knocks on my door and I open it before he's even done. I was excited for this date, I really think this was going to be a good one.

That didn’t stop me, however, from having mad jitters while getting ready. In the end I settled on wearing a silky pink skirt and with a fuzzy pastel pink sweater that was my favourite go-to. I paired it with white boots (still heeled) and some gold accessories. I was feeling myself.

As soon as Harry sees me in the doorway he takes a step back. “Wow. You look…stunning.”

I feel my cheeks heat, unused to this kind of attention from Harry. And I could tell he meant it—it wasn’t just a cheap compliment to get in my pants. I try not to show my internal squirming. “Thank you. You look very handsome!”

“Ah,” he waves the compliment away. “You see me wear this sort of thing to work all the time.”

“I know but you shaved,” I reach out to touch his face and then think better of it. We hadn’t even gone further than my door yet.

“I did,” he rubs his face like I wanted to.

“I like the smell of your aftershave,” I say as we get onto the lift and the smell bounces off the four walls.

He leans all the way down so that his neck is beside my face. I giggle—god, I actually giggle. I feel an overwhelming desire to rub my nose against the heat of his skin but I keep my freak hidden and fake an exaggerated whiff instead.

“C’mon,” Harry holds his hand out and we head out to the tube, my hand securely wrapped in his; I feel giddy just holding his hand.

This was going to be the best date ever.

I mean, it was still weird going on a date with my neighbour. For one, he had to only close the door to his home, turn around, and knock on my door to pick me up. For another, I'd seen Harry a million times since I moved in last year and not once did I ever think we would be doing this.

Harry and I talk all the way to the place about a new Netflix show we were both watching. It's light conversation, we don't acknowledge the fact that we're actually doing a proper date. That we were both mega into each other. It's almost like we were simply traveling into work and casually chatting 'til we reached our destination.

The restaurant—Harry’s pick, is tucked onto a street corner near Soho, the window shades are blackened except for a fancy script. Island X.

“I’ve never heard of the place.”

“It just opened a couple months ago,” Harry holds the door open for me; who said chivalry was dead.

“Wow,” I marvel at the interiors. It’s like someone took the Great Gatsby and worked it with wood tones and orange lighting. And monstera plants.

“That’s a lot of monsteras.”

“What?” Harry asks.

“Monsteras?” I wave my hand at all the ginormous planters but Harry’s attention is to the front of the line.

“Monsteras?” He asks, eyes still forward. “Like. The Lil Nas x song?”

“What?” I crinkle my brow. But then it clicks and I can’t help but laugh. “Oh my god you think I’m talking about-“

“Hiya!” The hostess interrupts me and I cover my mouth.

“Are you laughing at me?” Harry whispers as we follow to our table.

“Yes,” I wipe my tears as we’re lead to a cozy corner. I’m even tucked into my seat!

“Wow I’ve never been to someplace as fancy as this?”

“Really?” Harry’s face flits with a microsecond of an emotion I can’t read. “I thought maybe this was your scene.”

“Oh no,” I shake my head. “This is very fancy. I’m kinda low brow.”

“Oh,” his eyebrows knit together and he fiddles with his napkin. “Some woman at work suggested it.”

“Oh who?” I ask. Harry’s spoken to me about work before, I thought maybe it was a coworker I knew.

“Just someone that works on the same floor.” He pulls his glass of water close to him. “She’s just a friend.”

“Oh I didn’t mean it like…” I trail off. Why would he think I was being jealous?

Suddenly the awkwardness of the situation washes over me. I was on a date. With my neighbour. If this didn't end well we were screwed. I would lose my only friend in the entire neighbourhood! It would be painful to live next door to each other! At least until one of us found a partner or one of us moved out of the complex.

The pressure of it all makes my ears ring.

“Right,” Harry clears his throat as the waiter approaches and starts to scan the wines. “Any of the wines look good to you?”

I stare at Harry while he buries his nose in the menu. Somehow I felt like I already messed up. Maybe all of these bad dates had one thing in common: me.

God, I couldn’t even make it work with a friend.

Harry glances up. I guess I forgot to respond. Before he could notice I’d been too busy staring I start to scan the menu.

“D’you mind red?” I ask.

“Sure. Which red do you recommend?” Harry asks the waiter. I think it’s cute he asks. Dates in the past have pretended to know the difference between all the names and then ordered something that usually tasted like dog shite.

They discuss the wine and I pretend to nod here and there while I browse the dinner menu. Obviously I had studied it after getting dressed tonight. I knew what was safe for me to get (pasta or seafood) and what would cause a big mess (burgers).

“I’m gonna guess what you’ll order.” Harry says once we’re alone again.

“You really think you know me well enough?”

“Yeah. I think I know you well enough.”

“I don’t think so.” He might have a lucky guess but we hadn’t eaten out together enough for him to know my taste. Plus what I wanted and what I was going to order tonight would be two different things.

“I bet you I know. I’m so confident I’m not even going to say it right now. I’ll just order for you when the waiter comes back.”

“Are we confident or cocky?” I tease.

“Confident,” he says but he drapes his arms back against his chair and relaxes, giving an f-boy cocky pose. I laugh, grateful for the reprieve of living in my thoughts.

“Ready to order?” The waiter asks after pouring our wine. It was a nice balanced wine that was helping me relax.

Harry orders his meal and then looks up at me, “She’ll get the Organic Highland Prime Burg-“

“Actually,” I cut him off. Harry looks at me with his sure smile but I shake my head. It falls immediately.

I feel bad but I just couldn’t eat a burger at a fancy place like this on a first date. I’d done it before and it had not gone over well. Think White Chicks but instead of a Terry Crews it was a Ben Shapiro.

“Sorry,” I point to the safe item. “I’ll do the Blackened Lobster Lasagna.”

“Great choice.” The waiter says something else but I’m too preoccupied with how much worse I was making the date.

“Really?” Harry asks. The waiter pauses as he looks between Harry and I and I start to flush.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” It comes out more curt than I intended and Harry just nods.

“Sorry.” I apologize to Harry again once the waiter leaves. “I didn’t really want something messy.”

“Oh. Yeah it’s alright.” He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. "The lasagna does sound really good.”

“Right? I think it'll be really good.” I hear myself talking and want to stab myself. Really. Because this king of small talk was what I fell back on talking about when a date was going bad.

I had to redeem this. This couldn’t be a bad date. This was just Harry.

“This wine’s good too,” Harry says as he puts his glass down on the edge just as I yank my foot out from under the table to show him my shoes, yanking the table cloth in the process.

“So my shoes-“

“Shit!”

His wine tips over onto my white boots and we stare at them as the stain spreads.

“Napkin-“ Harry’s voice snaps me out of the spiral I’d found myself in as I watched wine seep into my coveted shoes.

Harry’s leaning over patting it down but I yank my foot away. This was incredibly embarrassing; everyone around us was watching the scene we were making.

“We need water-“

“I’m going to the toilet,” I announce. Harry looks up sharply, his face is panicked.

“I’m sorry yn I-“

“S’cuse,” I don’t mean to brush him away but with all the eyes on me and the fact that I kept finding ways to ruin this date—this date that was supposed to be perfect, my eyes were pricking with tears. I needed a breather.

“Shite,” I sigh as I balance on one foot in the toilets and try to wipe the stain in the sink. But red wine stained badly just like my performance on every date I’ve ever been on.

“Get yourself together,” I say to myself in the mirror. “Harry is amazing and you’re fucking all this up! Shoes are temporary, finding a good man can take forever! Snap! Out! Of! It!”

I do some deep breaths and one last attempt at cleaning my shoe before I make my way out.

“Yn I’m so sorry,” Harry stands as I return. “I’m so clumsy tonight I didn’t mean to-“

“Harry it’s fine,” I put my hand on his arm. “Honestly.”

“The stain didn’t come out!” He notices the shoes. “I’ll replace them—send me a bill or…”

I don’t have the heart to tell them he couldn’t replace my £400 Acne boots that easily. I’d bought them a couple seasons ago to celebrate the fact that I’d finally gone out with a guy, and hadn’t thought about my ex once. They were I’m-officially-over-my-ex boots.

Now that I thought about it though, it was stupid to wear them on a date with Harry. They were soaked in the bad luck of all the dates they’d been on since.

Agh!

“I’m serious Har,” I cut him off from his plans to replace them. I take a deep breath and motion he should do the same. “Look, it’s really fine. Plus they’re my favourite colour now. They’ll go with the rest of my wardrobe.”

He stops apologizing and looks down at the splotch of pink on the white. “In that case. We’ll have to take the bottle home and stain the other one.”

“Deal,” I say and he smiles at me softly and it feels like things might go better now. Maybe we really had a chance.

When our food arrives Harry’s steak isn’t done how he asked, and they take it back. I awkwardly push around the food on my plate, not wanting to eat until he had his food too.

“You can eat,” Harry reminds me. “I’m sure it’ll be out any minute.”

“We can share for no-“

“Just eat,” Harry says but now all the focus is on me eating and I feel tense and awkward and quite frankly, frustrated.

I shouldn’t have piled so much hope on this date going perfectly.

We wave the waiter over when too much time has passed by, and he seems confused about the steak.

“D’you think they forgot?” I ask Harry.

“Maybe,” he looks frustrated, two spots of pink have taken residence on his cheeks. I feel bad. This date wasn’t turning out for both of us.

It takes another 10 minutes for his plate to come back out. By then my plate looks like I hated it but tried to eat it to be polite. Harry tries to ask if it can be heated but I’m way too non-confrontational in restaurants to let that happen so I shovel a mouthful of room temperature food and give the waiter a thumbs up.

I just wanted to go home.

By the time Harry pays the bill (it was expensive, even though we agreed to skip dessert. He insisted on paying) I was ready to call an uber to whiz us home. But he suggests we walk off the food to another station and it sounds like a good idea so I follow along. Maybe now we could have a nice time.

The walk was supposed to help clear our heads and be romantic but somehow the mood had soured beyond repair. We don’t talk the whole time, both of us lost in our own heads. Neither of us holds hands, or even loop arms.

And somehow it gets worse when we arrive at my door.

"Well this is me," Harry points to his door beside mine in an attempt at a joke. I throw a polite smile.

"Thanks for the date," I say. I feel like it's a little curt but I didn't really know how to act. Did we hug? Shake hands? We liked each other but clearly this date was proving we didn't belong together. Kissing each other goodnight felt like the opposite direction of tonight's vibe.

"No, thank you. And sorry. Again." Harry looks embarrassed as he glances down at my shoes.

"Harry, honestly it's okay," I try to reassure him. I would take walking ten miles in heels I had yet to break in than this awkward air that stifled us. It was never supposed to be like this!

"No it's not," Harry huffs. "I ruined your shoes."

"They're shoes. Just shoes."

"It's a first date, I don't want you thinking I'm a clumsy mess."

"Harry," I lean my back against my door. He looked so good tonight, I was so excited when I opened my door to him a few hours ago and everything had gone tits up. I didn't want him to feel this way. It was my fault, not his.

"I just," he rubs his face and then sighs.

"It wasn't that bad," I lie. The night had gone so badly.

"Yes it is!" He throws his hands up and the movement makes me flinch. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. God, everything's just..."

I blink and my eyes start to sting. It was the end of the night and we'd officially decided this wasn't going anywhere. It wasn't a shock, but still it was upsetting. I really liked him. I really thought things would work out between us, especially after that night with my heels in his bathroom. I had to call it.

"I should go in. I'll see you later Harry."

His brows scrunch up, he opens his mouth and then closes it. "G'night yn."

"G'night." I whisper. He stays there like he always does as I go into my flat. I peek through the peephole and catch him mouth a fuck before opening his own door.

Still in my outfit, my shoes kicked off to the side, I start to pace. I can't do anything except go over the date in my head.

Was there a particular moment I fucked up? Should I have said something differently? How did Harry and I go from having amazing chemistry and an honest friendship to this?

Maybe I was trying too hard. I should have just ordered the burger like he’d guessed, should have gone along with what he talked about. I should have been a better date.

That was it. I couldn't go to bed like this.

The fact that every time I had a shot at a date, a real chance, something had to go wrong and it was always me. I had to fix this.

I grab the doorknob, and pause. I was about to march right into Harry's flat and ask why the date went so terribly. But what was the point? It would just make things even more awkward.

I think about the last time we hung out. There was beer. Maybe we just need beer—no hundred pound dish or fancy red wine. We just needed to be us. Lowbrow beers and a relaxed environment.

I grab a jacket to throw over my outfit and slip into my Stan Smiths. I head downstairs and in the direction of the local shop for a 6-pack. We would drink beer in our flat and get over this awful date. This couldn't be the last of us.

As I cash out a familiar head of hair in the closest aisle catches my attention.

"Harry?"

"Yn?" He's dressed down in joggers and a jumper.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"Grabbing dessert," he shakes the plastic container with donuts inside. "What are you doing here?"

I hold my box up. His eyes widen slightly, a frown touches his lips for a mere second before he arranges his face into a neutral expression.

"All for yourself?" He asks.

"No actually-“ I'm about to launch into what I was going to do but the cashier clears his throat and stares pointedly at Harry. He was holding up the line now.

"Oh sorry," he walks up to the counter and pays for his items. I stand off to the side and we walk out together.

"So you were saying?" He asks.

"Well. I was coming to your place with these."

"You were?" He stops in the middle of the sidewalk to ask.

"Yeah!"

"You're not joking?"

"No!" I laugh. "Why?"

"I..." he looks down at his box and swallows what he was saying. "Let me guess, was it a bad date?"

When he looks at me it's a cheeky look. I almost want to kiss him there.

"Another bad date yep," I tell him and we start to walk towards home.

"Was it the bloke?"

"Not exactly, I think a lot of it had to do with me."

"You sure the date wasn't an arse?"

"No he was sweet. He was very chivalrous, I really thought it was just going to go smoother."

"What do you reckon happened?" He asks. We were both enjoying playing this game. Quite frankly it was combing out the awkwardness.

"I dunno. For one I really wanted a burger but I got in my head and got lasagna instead. When do I ever eat lasagna!?” Harry laughs unexpectedly and it makes me feel good so I continue. “I started thinking about all of my failed dates and almost-relationship. I tried not to make this one date turn out like them but that was my mistake.”

“Sounds like it’s tough being you,” he teases. I push him lightly.

“Well if you could put yourself in our shoes what do you think happened?"

"I think your date got a bit nervous." He responds. By now we've reached our lobby and we take the lift up. "He's not used to going on dates—didn’t he have a steady girlfriend for 3 years? That's 3 years with 0 first dates. He didn’t want to screw things up and he was so in his head about the fact that he took her to an overly fancy place when that wasn’t her scene-“

“It’s not. But it was a cute place. Just poor service.”

“Yeah it was shite service—or I heard it was.” We glance at each other and grin. "I heard he split wine on your shoes."

"Psh," I laugh. “The pink stains were on the outside this time not the inside.”

The lift lands on our floor and we hover outside our doors. "Yours or mine?"

"Mine?" Harry opens his door and I follow the familiar hall to the couch I'd sat on just a week ago. I pull my legs up and we crack open beers, each biting into the sugary pillows he'd bought.

“I actually bought dessert so I could have an excuse to knock on your door and talk to you after that date.” Harry confesses after we’ve each had our moment with our donuts.

I feel warm inside, we’d both wanted an epilogue after the date. We were determined, and ended up in the same place. I hold my drink up. “Cheers.”

Harry tilts his head and smiles. He’s gonna be the death of me whether this works out or not, the thought pops into my head.

"I feel like I need to apologize," Harry continues. "I didn't want to mess things up and I think I just overthought it all and-"

"Please." I cut him off. "I totally made everything awkward and I think I'm just cursed."

"I don't know why I thought you would like such a fancy place. As soon as you said you're not into it I felt like I was doomed-"

"I didn't mind it! I just wasn't expecting it from you!"

"You don't think I'm a classy man?"

I laugh, "Just not that uppity on a first date."

"I was trying to pull out all the stops."

"Instead we just full stopped."

That gets a laugh from Harry. It dies down as he asks, "So what do you reckon? Is this a sign we're only meant to be neighborly friends?"

I bite my donut, mulling his question over. The beer and donuts were helping. I felt like I was thinking clearer than I had all night.

"I wouldn't say no."

We sit in silence as we think about it until he moves down the couch and rests his knee against mine.

"I really like you.”

"I like you too," I agree with my heart quickening.

"Then why don't we stop dating and just do this. No dates. Just hanging out."

"I don't know," I say. "I don't mind being wined and dined occasionally. Don’t you?”

"Okay, how about we just hang out. And when hanging out gets boring we put on our going out clothes and wine and dine each other. Think about it," he says and I nod, agreeing.

“Only if when we put on our going out clothes you keep wearing that aftershave.”

“Deal. And you wear your favourite colour each time.”

“Done.” I grin.

"So you wanna watch a movie or something?" He asks.

“Is that a euphemism?” I tease. He turns his TV on and turns to me with a disappointed look. I try not to laugh.

“No yn get your head out of the gutter. A movie. An actual movie.”

I stick my tongue out. "Can we just not watch anything romantic or sad though?”

"Toy Story it is," Harry puts on the film and we lean back against his couch, cuddled into each other. His fingers play with my hair in slow movements that feel comforting.

I wake up a few hours later, the movie long over. Harry's snoring softly, his arm wrapped around me.

I smile to myself. Even after the disaster of a date we were alright.

I nuzzle myself into the crook of his neck, feeling the musky heat of his skin, and drift back off.

***

A knock wakes me.

I open my eyes slowly and look around the room. I wasn't in my room. I was still on the couch, the cushions had done wonders for my back but my neck was stiff.

Harry was still fast asleep, his lips parted, and his arm thrown across his face. He looked so kissable then.

There was another knock, and Harry's arm slips off his face. He sits up, and the knocking resumes.

"Coming!" He shouts as he runs his hands over his face and hair.

He stands and looks back at me, and smiles. He's still sleepy but he's smiling at me.

"Morning." He says.

"Good morning."

He stays there with a dazed smile until I point behind him.

"Door?"

He nods and makes his way over to answer the door.

"Harry Sty-?" a voice asks.

“Yep,” Harry mumbles something I can’t hear. He’s asked to sign whatever it was.

"Thanks," his voice is rough and he clears it.

Closing the door behind him, he throws whatever package he'd received to the floor and walks over to me. "We fell asleep."

"I guess so. I'm still in last night's clothing." My skirt was now wrinkled and my top was half untucked and ridden up my midriff. "What time is it?"

Harry glances at his watch. "Half past 8."

"Shit! I've got work in half hour!"

"Work from here," Harry leans over me on the couch and offers his simple solution.

"I'll have to shower."

"You live next door. Just do your business and come back with your work things. It'll be like old times."

He's inches closer to me, and I really want to kiss him. It's funny we'd done none of that on our first date but now I want a re-do.

"Okay," I whisper.

"Okay," Harry whispers and he closes the distance and kisses me. It was better than our first kiss.

When I pull away I have a stupid smile on my face.

"Go get ready love," Harry laughs and pushes me off the couch. "You'll be late."

"See you later," I wave and walk out the door, smiling because he’d called me love again. And he hadn’t even hesitated.

Harry was right, it was a lot like the old days. In between work meetings, and Harry's calls, we had a lot of time to spend together. We chatted shit, snuck in some kisses, and talked about work.

We don’t go on a second date, instead we order pizza and watch Toy Story 2 (even though we'd fallen asleep in the first one).

Our days together are fun, and the nights were even more fun.

It was a Wednesday, a week and a half after the disastrous date. Harry and I had taken most of the week off and we'd spent it together, and tonight we'd gone out.

It was a great date, nothing fancy or high brow. Just a lowkey pub with a bunch of beers and greasy messy food and tons of laughter.

"So," Harry says as we're walking hand in hand back to our flat. "How many more days of leave do you have?"

"I have four and a half weeks total."

"Woah. That’s a lot."

"Why? You're not regretting this are you? Getting bored of me?" I tease him.

"I've had 29 years to prepare for you," he teases back.

"That's a good one. But I don't think you can handle 4.5 weeks.”

"Try me."

"Fine," I bump my hip into his.

We're silent for the rest of the walk. But it’s a good silence. When we reach the building, Harry takes his time unlocking his door.

"What are you doing?"

"Just waiting," he shrugs and I laugh.

"Do you want me to stay the night?"

"Yes," he answers without any hesitation; in the last week I'd slept in my bed once.

He opens the door pretty quickly after that and I follow inside—tomorrow, tomorrow I would sleep in mine. Harry could join me if he wanted.

Tonight I watch him close the door, the second the lock clicks I'm taking his jacket off for him and he's laughing at my eagerness.

"Someone's impatient."

"I'm not," I lie and drop his jacket.

"No?" He wraps his arms around me, pulling me flush against him. He kisses my jaw, and then the corner of my lips. You'd think I'd be used to this by now but it's just as dizzying as the times before.

I shake my head and his mouth hovers over mine, his hot breath tickling me.

"What about now?" He whispers.

"Nope," I breathe out and I push onto my tippy toes to kiss him. What can I say, I was denying it with him but I'd never been good at the slow and steady stuff. Harry's mouth was a drug, and I couldn't help myself.

He's not slow and steady either.

He's quick to lift me up and set me on the island in his kitchen, his fingers trailing over the edge of my skirt, his mouth working against mine.

His hand cups my ass and his fingers inch closer to my heat.

"Yn," his voice is soft and he pulls away.

"Yes?"

"Did I tell you how radiant you looked tonight? I can’t take my eyes off of you any time I see you, especially when you’re so loudly and comfortably you in your coordinated outfits and elaborate hairstyles. I feel like the luckiest guy out there. I think I am the luckiest guy in the whole city. I catch sight of you in public and…you just take my breath away."

"Aw Har. I’m already yours. You don't have to butter me up," I tease him as I pull him back to me but his words make me weaker than any kiss could. I know my eyes are growing watery at all of the nice things he’s saying and I’m grateful when he pretends not to see.

This was the nicest thing a guy has said to me, he was really telling me that he liked me for me. He felt lucky. Well I must have won the lottery if he felt lucky.

"I know I don't have," he doesn't pull back again but whispers this into my neck. A shiver runs up my spine. "But I just want to tell you that you're so beautiful."

His mouth trails over my jaw, and back to the corner of my mouth, he doesn't kiss me and I want him to.

"So beautiful," he whispers and I tilt my head back to invite him to continue the trail his lips were making. "So sweet."

He kisses my collar bone and the strap of my top. "So lovely."

His hands trail over my thighs and I want him so badly.

"You're making me melt," I tell him.

"Good thing we're in the kitchen," he hums.

"You're the worst," I giggle and his hands cup my cheeks and he presses his lips against mine. His tongue swipes over my lips and I allow him entry.

We're a tangle of limbs as we kiss and kiss, until I can't breathe. When we move to the bedroom I hardly have time to catch my breath there too.

"Yn," his voice is rough, his hair wild. His body is hot against mine and the way he says my name is enough to make me transcend this dimension.

"I like you. A lot."

"I like you too. A lot too." I can barely get the words out as I try to worm my way into his skin.

He chuckles at my growing impatience but he’s too far in to hold back again. He gives in to every one of my needs--even ones I didn't realize I had.

I'm a goner.

As we fall asleep, his arm wrapped tightly around me, I know we did the right thing. Despite being neighbours or the awful first date. The fact that we bumped into each other at the shop later that night meant we were supposed to have a second chance.

We worked best like this: warm and tucked away, whispering confessions into each other’s skin, seeing each other and not caring what we aren’t.

He pulls me closer in his sleep, sighing into my hair. This felt impossible before but it was so real now. And I think I really won the lottery; I’d dated a million toads before but I think I finally found my prince.

TAGLIST:

@kuntxrgraudunkelbunt @mellamolayla

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #i hope this meets everyones expectations #for how things go between these two #harry styles angst #fanfic #i did not do a lot of edits so dont mind any inconsistencies etc

[mathiwrites]

the lighthouse, an au fanfic where orm is raised alongside arthur on the surface

baby bruce makes an appearance!

Chapter 6 - Little League

“These are my sons, Arthur and Orm, and that is my wife, Lana.”

A steady hand presses against Arthur’s back, supportive as Tom introduces his family to the Waynes—the freaking Wayne family. Half the things he owns have their logo on it, or a subsidiary of their Enterprises. Still, he insists on being the one to treat them to lunch, once everyone is settled and he feels comfortable enough to leave them if only for a moment.

Atlanna hadn’t wanted to interact. What she wanted was to take her boys and bring them back inside. She wanted to lock the doors and make sure that their little world can never be disrupted. It had taken some convincing, soft-spoken words of reassurance from Tom. Thomas and Alfred had helped their boys, and their children are alright because of them.

Her compromise was this: she would stay in the waters and keep watch. She trusts her husband to guard their sons on land. 

Tom glances at her as she wades into the water, waist deep, and her long blonde hair trails behind her. She’s beautiful, but a deep part of him understands that she is equally terrifying. He loves her, and he mourns the part of her that cannot remember what it is like to be free. 

Someone must have said something, because he tunes back into the sound of Alfred repeating a question.

“Does any of your family have food allergies? I will fetch us lunch.”

“No, no fetching. Lunch is on me. I was just going to give everyone a minute to get comfortable with one another.”

He’s not sure if he can stop Alfred from being too nice and too helpful. The lifestyle of the Wayne family is so far from anything he’s ever known; he doesn’t know how to act around a butler? Tom had fought with him (not really) when the man insisted on finding and unfolding more beach chairs for them. Alfred has done enough. God, it was so much yelling. He deserves a raise and extra vacation days, and Tom had told Thomas as much. 

“Please, lunch is on us,” Thomas counters, and that is how the both of them begin a loop of arguing about who is buying lunch.

***

Arthur stares. He holds both of Orm’s hands while his brother dances on wobbly little legs. He hasn’t started walking yet, but Arthur knows it’s gonna be soon, and he knows he’s definitely not gonna miss it.

He blinks at the other boy, watching as his mother lathers him up with lots and lots, and lots of lotion.

“Do you want some,” the nice lady asks. “It’s sunscreen.” The staring must have tipped her off on his confusion.

“Why?”

His dad has never put sunscreen on him before. Lotion, yes, and it always smells like cupcakes or something cool like cucumbers, but never that much. It makes the other boy look like a ghost and he was already pretty pale.

“So you don’t burn from being under the sun too long.”

Oh. Oh, no. 

Arthur has never burned, but his little brother comes from another place. He looks at the bouncing baby, frowning at him. Orm might need sunscreen. He doesn’t want his brother to burn!

“Dad!” He shouts, and he catches the way the sunscreen-ed boy jumps at the sudden noise.

“Yeah?”

With everyone staring at him, Arthur feels shy. It’s not like when Gramma and his cousins stare; they watch because they know he’s up to some kind of nonsense. These are strangers, and he thinks they’re looking at him weird? They all look so surprised.

“Does Ormie need sunscreen?” He points at the boy and his mother.

Tom looks at Orm, then at Atlanna in the distance who dives beneath the water. He’s never seen her burn. If she has, she would have healed before he could notice. He ponders the risk, and figures that for a baby, there are some chances he doesn’t want to take. (Oh, and shit, he never put sunscreen on Arthur. Woops.)

“Sure, but not too much.”

Arthur nods and the nice lady helps him get settled with Orm on their beach towel. She squirts a tiny bit into Arthur’s palm, and he meticulously spreads it across Orm’s skin. Orm giggles, clapping his hands, and makes a grabby motion to be picked up.

“After,” Arthur promises. 

In the time he’s spent with his baby brother, there is one thing in the world Orm loves more than anything. Whenever Arthur holds him, Orm presses his ear against his chest, mooshing his cheek, and listens to the vibrations of his voice. He noticed  it when Orm would cry, and he would stop as soon as Arthur picked him up and started talking. When he would go quiet, Orm began to fuss again.

He tickles his little brother, and the boy screeches with happiness. 

“Seems like you’ve got everything under control,” the lady smiles at them. She leaves the bottle, just in case. “Be good, you can do this,” she encourages her son before joining the other adults.

The children sit together in awkward silence, waiting for someone to speak first.

“Hi,” says the boy.

“Hi,” Arthur answers.

Silence slips in between them again as Arthur rubs his brother’s arms. He’s very focused on the task, but he’s also very distracted in squishing Orm. Orm is very squishable.

“I’m Arthur,” he finally says because the silence was… weird. “This is Orm. He’s a baby.”

“I can see that.”

Well, this boy isn’t a good conversation-maker. Arthur knows that much.

“I’m Bruce,” he finally says.

Arthur whips his head around, bug-eyed and grinning at Bruce. “Did you say Bruce? Like Bruce the shark? ” He turns to Orm and picks him up, turning him to face their new friend. “Lookit, Ormie! Fish are friends! Not food!”

Bruce has no idea what’s happening, and he makes a face at the child being shoved into his face. Is he… supposed to take it? He figures he’ll be told if he has to do anything, but the baby is covered in lotion, sand and drool. He makes a motion with his hands, as if to rid himself of imaginary dirt.

“It’s Nemo!”

Orm mimics the cadence of ‘ne-mo’, gurgling happily. Nemo is a staple at the curry household. They even have a clownfish onesie for Orm and a very cool turtle shirt for Arthur.

Bruce gives Arthur a blank expression.

“Just keep swimming!” 

(And Orm flails his arms to show that he can swim, too.)

None of the quotes stir anything in Bruce, he hasn’t actually seen Finding Nemo. He does make a note to watch it when he gets home. The talk of swimming does pique his curiosity. The… incident shook him. He’d worried that his father would get hurt or something would happen to Alfred. Yelling is harmless, but it is also the precursor to violence, he thinks.

“Were you really going to let your brother drown?”

That’s what the woman had intervened for, wasn’t it?

“Huuuuuuuh? ” Arthur says, confused and loud (but that’s par for the course). He giggles and lets Orm use him as a support to stand up. Orm bends his knees and bounces again, dancing to a silent rhythm in hopes of finding balance. “That could never happen!”

“His face was under water.”

“Yeah, that’s ‘posed to happen.”

“For a long time.”

“Yes.”

Bruce makes a frustrated sound. “You die if you can’t breathe.”

“Nuh, not us.”

“Not underwater.”

“We can!”

The Wayne boy glares at Arthur, slowly losing his nerve. “Why are you lying!”

“I’m not!”

The children argue between themselves and Orm tumbles against Arthur. He begins to cry. Apologies are exchanged between the parents, and though their first instincts are to intervene, they ultimately decide that it’s better for the boys to learn and work things out. Neither Bruce nor Arthur are used to new situations outside of their little bubbles; Bruce lives behind his family’s protection and Arthur only knows the abundance of his father’s family and community, nothing beyond it for his own safety.

“Okay, well, come and watch me swim, you knowitdall!”

Arthur hauls Orm into his arms, but Orm doesn’t want to be carried now. He wants to walk, so it’s a very slow, but determined toddle towards the water. Yeah, they’ll show Bruce. 

Orm takes one wobbly step at a time.

“Careful,” Bruce warns, brow furrowing as he walks alongside them, holding his hands out in case the baby falls. Orm misunderstands the extended hand and thinks it's an offer for more support. Innocent and determined, Orm wraps his little fingers around Bruce’s hand. 

“Oh.”

Arthur thinks to tell Bruce that he knows how to take care of his brother, but Bruce is experiencing the wonder that is baby Orm. It’s pretty cool, becoming a chosen one to the cutest baby on land and in the sea. He grins, forgetting why they were arguing in the first place.

Bruce is gentle with Orm, making sure not to squeeze his hand too tightly. As soon as they walk into the water, he’s the only one that flinches at the cold. The other two seem unbothered. Orm’s hand slips from his, and he tries to hold on, but the baby disappears underwater. He panics, trying to hold onto him, but he’s nimble and moves like no human he’s ever seen. Orm disappears under the water, and a moment later, he pops up out of the water into his mother’s arms, further down the beach.

“I told you.” Arthur smirks at him, a little too satisfied at his victory.

“That’s—That’s not possible!”

“It is,” he motions at his brother and his mother.

Bruce stumbles backwards, landing in the water. His gray eyes are wide with surprise; mermaids aren’t real and yet. He looks at Arthur, stunning. “Can you do that too?”

“Yup,” he grins, popping the ‘p’.

“Whoa, that’s awesome.”

“Yeah!” But Bruce hasn’t seen anything yet. Arthur gives into the water, too, and shows Bruce all the tricks he knows. What better way to make friends than to put on a water show?

Bruce is content to sit in the shallows, watching with fascination. His introverted nature makes him a perfect audience for Arthur’s shenanigans, and now that their misunderstanding has been cleared, their personalities complement one another greatly.

They end up playing in the sand together, building castles. Orm eventually comes back, crawling out of the water to see what his brother(s) are doing.

“This is pretty,” Bruce holds out a small shell.

“Pudit-back,” Arthur frowns. When Bruce looks at him confused, he sighs and explains. “Someone lives there.”

Right on cue, a little hermit crab pops up to say hello.

“That’s Shelldon.”

“Right, sorry.” Bruce sets it down with another muttered apology. 

He’s mostly silent in their playing, happy to let Arthur make all the sound effects. Orm joins in too, copying Arthur. When he speaks, it’s after a lot of thought. He makes sure that it’s purposeful, a belief that his parents have ingrained in him as a child. It’s important to understand his impact on people, whether it’s individuals or entire demographics. It’s also a lot for a child to think about, but he’s not any child. He is a Wayne. 

“Do you want to be pen pals?”

“What’sa penpal?” Arthur asks, pushing his longish hair out of his face.

“We would write to each other, since we live far from each other. It’s how we stay friends.”

“Okay, cool. I’ll send you sand.”

“Alright,” Bruce smiles. He’s looking forward to Arthur’s letters, and he hasn’t even left yet.

#dc fanfic #dc comics #aquafam #arthur curry #tom curry #batfam #bruce wayne #batman #aquaman #thomas wayne #martha wayne #baby bruce wayne #baby arthur curry #baby orm #my fics #the lighthouse

[sicklyseraphnsuch]

Jack starts babbling which is... funny. Hiccup is the babbler between the two of them. For all his flair and fun times, Jack is surprisingly introspective and quiet when he wants to be. Whereas Hiccup's anxiety explodes outwards, Jack just curls into himself. That's how he vanishes so easily from parties. When people go looking for him, expecting noise and a flurry of movement, less people notice him when he hushes up and falls behind.

There's an art to it, something that he - clumsy and awkward Hiccup - can't quite master. Jack can get any ball rolling, pushes it right off a cliff until people are carried away by their own laughter, swept right off their feet. Then in his cleverly created commotion, he just... slides right out, quick and clean and easy. People don't realize he's gone until hours after, when the ball finally comes to a stop.

So... Babbling. Hiccup does that. Jack doesn't. Learning about him takes an awful amount of patience, literally like waiting for water to thaw. He doesn't just talk talk talk. But he is, right now, about Nightlight. Because yeah, okay, Hiccup should have seen that coming. Jack would come apart about Nightlight - it's like Nightlight is a very important person to him, or something. As if Hiccup hadn't witnessed or listened to all the times Jack spoke about a missing part in him! Hiccup shouldn't be so surprised and now he's frustrated at his own surprise which is just... great.

"You... are not listening, are you?"

Hiccup blinks, finding Jack uncomfortably close. He jerks back. "Whoa! What? Yes, I was!"

"So you heard the part about me eating yellow snow?"

"You what?!"

"See!! You weren't listening!!"

Hiccup rubs a hand over his face. "Okay, fine. Sorry. I just... Wouldn't it be better to tell Nightlight about all this? Since he's your Other Half..."

Yeah, this is incredibly mature of him, honestly. He's not being petty at all, noooope.

Jack laughs that bright, tinkling laugh of his. Hiccup feels his stomach drop to his knees. He could listen to Jack laugh forever, he really could.

"Hic... I think... There's been a misunderstanding? But also it's hard to understand in the first place. I think the closest explanation would be... You know how Toothless is your best friend? Who understands you better than anybody? And at some point, you literally completed each other - him needing you to fly and you needing him to fly, that sort of thing? Well... It's like if you woke up one day and you had to share the same body."

Hiccup thinks this over, weirds himself out, then thinks it over some more. "I can... I can kinda imagine that?"

"Good, because my thing with Nightlight is only sorta like that. It's the closest thing but it's not exactly like that. For one thing, me and Nightlight never had separate bodies like this before. I never got to know Nightlight as someone outside of me. It used to be... hard sometimes, to see where he starts and I end. But... not in a bad way. He was - I was - We were something completely new. And now..."

Hiccup knows this part, grown familiar with this - the waiting. Jack has spoken more than he's ever spoken before, but Hiccup can tell that he's still only saying half of his thoughts. There's a lot more hiding under that shock of white hair.

"... Well, the point is... We're not together... like that. I wasn't, you know, flirting with you just for kicks and giggles."

Yeah, that makes sense. Of course, Jack... Wait. Uh. What. Wait. No. Wha- He? Then? At Hiccup? Huh?!?

"Aaaaaand I broke him. I think I broke him. Hiccup are you in there? Blink once for yes, twice if no!"

"You!"

"Me?"

"You - You - You said that men loving men was not done from where you came from!"

"Ah, yeah... But I also had like 300 years of experiences that were more or less coloring my perspective of the world, whether I realized it or not."

"You were flirting with me? Since when??"

Jack adopts a positively sly look. "Since... You showed me your big black dragon..." He wags his eyebrows. "... Then took me on a ride, up and down, and up and down."

Hiccup gives him a flat look, grabs Jack's hood and pulls it over his face. "Whenever you're ready to take this a little more seriously, just let me know."

Jack struggles briefly with pushing up his hood but when Hiccup finishes speaking, he pulls it further down, hiding his eyes. "Weren't you listening, Hics? I've... I've always taken this seriously. This, I mean - I've always been real about you, anyways. I..."

Oh. "Oh." Oh!

Jack shuffles back a few steps, hunching over, keeping his head low, and out of sight.

And Hiccup is... He isn't many things. But he does like to think of himself as smart, and... And he can put the pieces together - that he and Jack and Jack's Nightlight might have to stay apart.

#jack frost #hiccup haddock #hijack #frostcup #rise of the guardians #guardians of childhood #how to train your dragon