#its was so much fun and I really hope to convey the awkwardness and silliness

[star-trekster]

⭐️Happy Wednesday! From the best DS9 crew photo⭐️

[kirislut]

kissing your doubts away

a/n: this honestly a self indulging drabble, (THIS TURNED INTO A ONE SHOT) to help me out and help me want to write again! but i also hope it can help you as well. also like kind of a part two to this drabble? but not really. also thank you @katsushimaa for giving me kirishima when i asked for a character to write for!

warnings: sad times, overthinking

friday nights. they’re supposed to be fun right? it’s finally the weekend and you’re able to relax, or party, or just do whatever you want really. but instead of doing any of that, or anything you wanted to do. you were in bed, hiding under your blankets and sulking.

so when your phone started to buzz and ring from getting a call, you just ignored it and let it stop on it’s own. recently thoughts of doubt began to flood your mind. you weren’t even sure why yourself, it was like a silent tsunami ready to crash at any moment. you were just bracing yourself now.

but what you weren’t bracing for was the sudden knocking at your door. you don’t remember inviting anyone to come to your dorm, besides wasn’t everyone else busy? once again you decided to just ignore it, and for a few seconds it was silent. then there was knocking again. yet you still gave no response.

soon enough you heard the door creak open slowly, and you didn’t see the tuft of red hair start to poke out from behind your door. “(y/n)?” kirishima’s eyes glanced around your room, thinking for a second you weren’t there until he saw the lump in the bed.

still not responding, the red head came into the room and shut the door behind him. he had been worried about you today. even if you thought no one had noticed that you were a little less smiley and joking as usual, kirishima noticed. he honestly didn’t know when he wasn’t staring at you. you were just always in his sight, even if you weren’t there.

“(y/n) are you okay? you didn’t answer the phone earlier.” hearing kirishima’s voice got your attention, you didn’t realize that he was the one to enter your room. and now panic was starting to spread throughout you. you couldn’t have him see you like this, even if he was your best friend. he didn’t need to burden more of your troubles.

“i’m fine kiri, just got some stomach pain that’s all!” you were trying to reassure the male, but part of you was trying to convince yourself as well. this was just a pain, if would go away eventually. it always did before so why wouldn’t it now? why did it feel so different this time?

kirishima on the other hand wasn’t convinced, you definitely weren’t fine. he sat himself down beside your hiding self, staring at your caved in form. “(y/n). you can talk to me, i’m always here to help you ya know?”

hearing his reassurance made your jaw clench tightly. of course you knew he was there for you, just as you were for him, but this time you didn’t want to depend on him. depending on someone is something you’ve gotten so used to. but now, now you’ve realized that maybe you shouldn’t always depend on them. if you were strong enough to defeat villains, then you could be strong enough to do this by yourself. right?

“(y/n) please? at least let me bring you some water.” kirishima was getting antsy to help you, the poor boy was fretting now. his instincts and gut feeling was telling him that you weren’t fine. so why wouldn’t you let him help you?

you knew that kirishima wouldn’t stop, he was a very determined person after all. almost stubborn. so, you just let out a hum as a response, with that the red head got up and quickly went downstairs to get you some water. which left you feeling a bit guilty since he was rushing, why was he making a big deal out of this. he didn’t even know what was going on.

he was quick to come back as well, didn’t want to keep you waiting after all. so when you heard fast paced footsteps enter your room, you pulled yourself out from under your blanket. and seeing you again definitely helped calm kirishima’s antsy nerves. you’re eyes didn’t look red or puffy so he knew you hadn’t cried at least. but he was currently smiling at the fact that you’re hair was ruffled up and how adorable you looked. was this how you looked in the morning? he wanted to see—

“um kiri are you going to hand me the water?” you cleared your throat, feeling a bit awkward under his gaze. he was just standing there and staring at you, not even trying to hide it. “r-right! sorry (y/n)!” he let out a nervous chuckle as he handed the glass to you. the red head sat himself on the edge of your bed as you took a sip of the water. you mumbled a small thank you as you took another sip of the cool liquid.

it definitely helped cool your body down, honestly it was getting warm under that blanket, but it didn’t work as well for cooling your mind. as you set the glass down on your bedside table, you looked at your lap. you weren’t sure if you should say something but you could feel that kirishima definitely was trying to say something. it was like the air was holding its breath as well, kirishima’s words being its exhalation.

“(y/n), what’s really going on? i know i shouldn’t push it but i’m worried about you.” exhale. even if the tension was gone in the air, you didn’t feel any less tense sadly. “kiri, i’m fine really! i just, i guess i’m having one of those days.” kirishima saw that you were slowly opening up to him, even if you didn’t think of it. you had just admitted that you weren’t fine, even if you previously said you were.

“one of those days?” he asked, trying to coax the words right out of you. “ya know, those days when you’re just kinda sad.” there it was, the reason. at least the beginning of it. he gave a little nod of understanding, pausing for a moment to see that you were still looking down. then he saw little droplets falling down one by one, when had you started crying?

you weren’t even sure yourself, but the second you started to talk about how you were sad. the tsunami came crashing down and the flood gates busted wide open. there was no holding it back now.

a quiver ran down your body as words just started to flow right out. “kirishima i, i’m actually not sad. i’m terrified. absolutely scared out of my mind. everyone is so amazing and progressing. they are stepping towards their goals s-so quickly i feel like i’m being left in the dust. what if i can’t do it too? w-what if my dreams never become a reality and..a-and i disappoint everyone. i could f-fail at any moment and never be able to accomplish what i desire..”

hearing your voice waver and break, and seeing the droplets of tears turn into streams absolutely wrecked kirishima’s heart. of course he didn’t know that you had been carrying these thoughts, but it still surprised him. the red head couldn’t quite comprehend how you could doubt yourself so much, you were always so amazing in his eyes. he was about to reach out to you, but you noticed his hand and leaned back.

“i’m so sorry kirishima! i-i didn’t want to burden you with all this. i know it’s silly and pathetic, and very unmanly of me. besides you already deal with so much of my problems before you didn’t need to deal with anymore. i didnt want your getting tired of me and my problems—“ as you leaned away from the touch you started to vigorously wipe away you’re still running tears. so you didn’t notice as kirishima’s hands came towards you once again.

he gently pulled your own hands away from your face, cupping you’re cheeks and kissing your lips. he just had to stop you from continuing on about him being upset with you. kirishima would never, ever be upset with you over something like this.

he conveyed all of that into his kiss. which you were at a loss of words for, you were stunned under his touch. how could he have so much love for you, and how have you never known?

kirishima pulled away slowly, part of him never wanted to part from your lips but he needed to console you first. “(y/n) i never want you to think that you burden me. i’m you’re best friend after all! besides that i’m more than certain you can obtain your dreams with ease. please try not to doubt yourself, even if it’s hard. but i’m always here for you, always.” he still held your face in his hands, even with slightly calloused hands his touch was ever so soft.

his words, his touch, his loving gaze. it was all so much that it made you feel like a fool. how have you never noticed this before. emotions seemed to overwhelm you again, and once again you were crying. it seemed another wave came crashing down, but this time filled to the brim with so many feelings of love and gratitude.

unfortunately for kirishima he didn’t know this, and was panicking to see you cry again. though seeing you smile definitely calmed his returning antsy nerves. of course you were smiling, for so many reasons sure but the main one was because of the boy right in front of you.

how he could steal your lips and your negativity away so easily was beyond you, but it didn’t matter right now. “thank you kiri, i promise i’ll depend on you if i ever feel like this again.” you nuzzled your face into his touch, still smiling. “and, i suppose i owe you something.” you removed kirishima’s hands from your cheeks and copied his placement but on the red head’s face instead. for a moment you saw how his cheeks flushed red as you moved closer to him then connected your lips with his.

you returned all the feelings he had given to you in the previous kiss, making sure that he felt just as loved as you did. as you finally pulled away, kirishima had just the biggest grin on his face. he was just filled to the brim with joy, you loved him back. “i’ll always be your rock, got that (y/n)?” you gave a little giggle as you nodded in response, partly because of his little joke but mostly because now you knew. you knew that if you ever doubted yourself again, kirishima would always be there to help you fight your own villains.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Horror / Six: The Musical AU (X Reader) || Headcanons

Explanation: So all the songs are being sun by different readers with different Henry’s (The Horror Villains of course) instead of one Henry. I think its pretty straight forward apart from that! I hope to make a second part to this where the readers actually meet up and complain about their times with their respective horror villains. This is fun XD Had the idea a couple months back and I posted it and one blog commented saying Six is their favourite musical, so this is basically for me and them haha XD 

Character Included: Michael Myers, Chucky / Charles Lee Ray (And Tiffany Valentine), Bubba Sawyer, Norman Bates, Mayor Buckman (And Harper Alexandre) and Jason Voorhees. 

Warnings: Murder of the readers (By respective Horror Villains and a non-explicit difficult birth in Bubba’s), birth / pregnancy, toxic / abusive relationships, sexual harrassment / maybe rape (All You Wanna Do- Buckmans), language, suggested mother / son grossness (Norman and Norma of course). 

I laugh in the face of those who would subdue my mad ideas. 

‘No Way’ (Reader as Catherine of Aragon): Michael Myers as Henry

My name's Catherine of Aragon Was married 24 years I'm a paragon of royalty, my loyalty is to the Vatican So if you try to dump me You won't try that again 

You were in a, of course, very unequal relationship with the shape of Haddonfield. He saw you one day, was completely taken by you, and decided to let you live. He would come by and use you however he liked, kill the people you loved when they got your attention over him, etc. Like any other Michael Myers x Reader.

And, years and years later (Because it’s not like Michael finds someone every day that he gives even a bit of a shit about like he does - did, - you) he comes upon a new person. Someone he, like he was you, is drawn to.

And he tries to drop you like a hot potato.

And this infuriates you. You are not about to let go! He has ruined your life! You have no friends, no family, no life, because of him! All you have, is (regrettably) him and you are going to be his for the rest of your life. That’s what he wanted, that’s what the bastard’s going to get.

(Many, many years with him has caused your courage against him to grow spectacularly. You can say nearly anything to him)

|- ‘You must agree that, baby, in all the time I been by your side

I've never lost control’

‘I've put up with your sh- like every single day’ -|

You give him one more chance- if he can tell you one thing that you have done to him to legitimately hurt him… then you’ll leave willingly.

…

But he has nothing. And he doesn’t care.

|- ‘You got me down on my knees

Please tell me what you think I've done wrong

Been humble, been loyal, I've tried to swallow my pride all along

If you can just explain a single thing

I've done to cause you pain, I'll go

No?’ -|

//

|- ‘You wanna replace me? Baby, there's

N-n-n-n-n-n-no way

You made me a wife, so I'll be queen 'til the end of my life’ -|

He ends up strangling you to death when you won’t shut up.

‘Don’t Lose Your Head’ (Reader as Anne Boleyn): Chucky / Charles Lee Ray as Henry (And Tiffany as Catherine of Aragon)

I'm that Boleyn girl and I'm up next See I broke England from the church Yeah, I'm that sexy Why did I lose my head? Well, my sleeves may be green but my lipstick's red 

Chucky and his filthy ass catches sight of you. Young, French and vivacious and he’s got heart eyes on the spot. He wants you, but he also doesn’t really want to lose Tiffany.

So... yeah, you end up living with them both for a while and its very awkward and a very hostile situation.

|- ‘Here we go

(You sent him kisses)

I didn't know I would move in with his misses

(What?)

Get a life

(You're living with his wife?)

Like, what was I meant to do?’ -|

You don’t like it. No one likes this. Chucky! Make up your mind!

|- ‘Three in the bed and the little one said

If you wanna be wed, make up your mind

Her or me, chum

Don't wanna be some

Girl in a threesome

Are you blind?’ -|

Tiffany is of course Catherine, and the fandom (The people of Britain for the sake of this AU) loves her (As we all know), so when you come along and insult her because Chucky is now your man (Supposedly.) and of course you two aren’t getting along with each other in the first place because of him … you get a bad name.

|- ‘Ooh, why hasn't it hit her?

He doesn't want to bang you

Somebody hang you

(Wow Anne, way to make the country hate you)

Mate, what was I meant to do?’ -|

When eventually Chucky is able to grow the balls to boot Tiffany out (My heart hurts writing this, trust me), he pulls a ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater’ kind of shit and has no loyalty to you or respect for the sanctity of your relationship, and starts having one night stands here, there and everywhere. He tries vaguely to tell you you’re being silly and that’s not true- but he has lipstick on his shirt collars and perfume smell all over him.

Its not a nice living condition.

So you, still very much being the vivacious bitch that he ‘fell in love with’, go and flirt with some other guys. Just to make him a teensy bit jealous! I mean, its not like he’ll really care, right? You just wanna spark the fire again!

|- ‘Henry's out every night on the town

Just sleeping around, like what the hell?

If that's how it's gonna be

Maybe I'll flirt with a guy or three

Just to make him jell’ -|

But he finds out as planned… and is p i s s e d. He threatens that if you do that again, he’ll fucking kill you.

You, not going to let him talk to you like that, flirt with one more man. Just to be disobedient. 

|- ‘Henry finds out and he goes mental

He screams and shouts

Like so judgemental

You damn that witch

Mate, just shut up

I wouldn't be such a b-

If you could get it up’ -|

And you find out that he very much meant it when he said he would kill you.

|- ‘And now he's going 'round like off with her head (No)

(No)

Yeah, I'm pretty sure he means it’ -|

‘Heart of Stone’ (Reader as Jane Seymour): Bubba Sawyer as Henry

Jane Seymour the only one he truly loved (Rude) When my son was newly born, I died But I'm not what I seem or am I? Stick around and you'll suddenly see more 

You were an intended victim of the Sawyers, but like with Stretch, Bubba crushes on you instead. The difference here, is that you see the gentleness to him compared to his brothers, and how scared he is when one of them yells at him, and all the other little signs that he’s not as vicious or evil as his first impressions might convey. You have a big, brave heart, and you realise right there that its death and cannibalisation or understanding and caring for this man and you choose to love.

|- ‘You came my way, and I knew a storm could come too.’-|

//

|- ‘You've got a good heart

But I know it changes

A restless tide, untameable’ -|

So you take his hands in yours, all shaky and meaty as they are, and promise him that you will never leave him. You’ll protect him. You’ll take any mess he and his family can throw at you- you’ll always be with him. Your promise.

|- ‘But I took your hand, promised I'd withstand

Any blaze you blew my way

'Cause something inside, it solidified

And I knew I'd always stay’ -|

And he believes you, of course. Its so nice to be looked at so softly, especially by someone as pretty as you.

I- ‘You can build me up, you can tear me down

You can try but I'm unbreakable

You can do your best, but I'll stand the test

You'll find that I'm unshakeable

When the fire's burnt

When the wind has blown

When the water's dried, you'll still find stone

My heart of stone’ -|

And you prove yourself. You prove over and over again that no matter what he, or the twins, or Drayton, or even Grandpa throws at you- you’ll survive and you’ll stay, and you’ll never stop looking at him in that lovely soft way.

|- ‘You say we're perfect

A perfect family’ -|

You get pregnant of course because everyone in the Sawyers / Hewitts family has a breeding kink and you can’t tell me otherwise, and the birth is of course very difficult because Drayton isn’t about to pay for hospital bills. So you’re in their home, in all the mess and the dirt and with no sort of aesthetic, and…

|- ‘Soon I'll have to go

I'll never see him grow’  -|

You don’t make it. Your babies born fine and healthy, and you bring another strong Sawyer boy to the family, but you’re gone.

‘Get Down’ (Reader as Anne of Cleves): Norman Bates as Henry

Ich bin Anne of Cleves Ja! When he saw my portrait, he was like Ja! But I didn't look as good as good as I did in my pic Funny how we all discuss that but never Henry's little- 

So, one day, Norman decides its time to properly settle down (Long after his mother… ah… ‘dies’) and get a partner, and because there isn’t really anyone around where he lives to date or, even, who wouldn’t get creeped out by him and his taxidermy, he turns to online dating.

He meets you there. You own and run your own hotel in the next state over, you don’t mind his taxidermy at all, and your profile picture looks… hauntingly familiar (If you look nothing like Vera Farmiga go by the original movie- she was but a skeleton there so she really could be anyone).

|- ‘Sittin' here all alone

On a throne

In a palace that I happen to own

I'm not fake 'cause I've got acres and acres

Paid for with my own riches’ -|

And you two get along great over messages! You online date for a good year before Norman proposes you elope and come to live with him! You think you’ve known him long enough, and you trust him!

So you fly right over, and he meets you at the airport, and…

He’s disappointed.

Like, ‘sorry, nah, you don’t look enough like mama so this isn’t gonna work’. In a more fidgety, quiet, subdued kind of way though. He’s so awkward with communication that he even suggests that you doctored your profile picture.

I- ‘You, you said that I tricked ya

'Cause I, I didn't look like my profile picture’ -|

And, understandably, you’re p i s s e d, and disgusted! But ya’ll already got married over the internet, so theirs no stopping that! This is your husband. You realise you’ve made a huge mistake and go right back to your home and your hotel to get divorce papers drawn up.  

You’re the queen of your own fucking castle, who needs him?

|- ‘I'm the queen of the castle

Get down, you dirty rascal

'Cause I'm the queen of the castle’ -|

You are understandably, very very mad. And you say some things to Norman about he and his mother, that… may be true… but that he certainly doesn’t appreciate.

When you finally get the papers, and you’ve been separated long enough for it to be legal, you go back to the Bates Motel to get Norman to sign them and stay over a night. You’ve calmed down enough that you’re able to have a pleasant conversation with him, and you decide that you’re too tired to take the plane back home right away so you take up Normans offer to stay in one of vacant rooms (*Cough* So you basically have the run of the place. Or they do. *Cough).

Norman is also pretty calm about the whole thing as well, like you! But… Norma, is still seething.

You don’t wake up the next morning.  

‘All You Wanna Do’ (Reader as Kathrine Howard): Mayor Buckman as Henry (And Harper as Thomas)

Prick up your ears, I'm the Catherine who lost her head (Beheaded) For my promiscuity outside of wed Lock up your husbands Lock up your sons K. Howard is here and the fun's begun 

Right, so, you haven’t had good luck in love throughout your life, so you decide to give up on boys entirely. 

|- ‘So I decided to have a break from boys

And you'll never guess who I met’ -|

… And meet a man, not much later. A man in power; A mayor. A man who’s been married before and has a beard (So you know; He’s a man. XD No little boy.). This is of course Buckman. He calls you love, and you get a job in Pleasant Valley that keeps you comfortably busy. You feel like, finally, you’re where you belong. You feel fulfilled- no committed relationships are necessary.

|- ‘Globally revered

Although you wouldn't know it from the look of that beard

Made me a lady in waiting

Hurled me and my family up in the world

Gave me duties in court and he swears it's true

That without me, he doesn't know what he'd do

He cares so much, he calls me love’ -|

But then Buckman tells you that he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more. And, though you are a little disappointed that your solitude didn’t last, you decide that he’s decent enough (’He is rather kind to me, and he does makes me smile a fair bit’, you try to reason with yourself that this is a good idea) and so you start to go out. Its not long before you’re married.

|- ‘So we got married Woo…’

Woo…’ -|

But being married to him isn’t easy. Not at all. You’re not use to politics; There are so many rules now, and he’s always too busy to help. And the rest for Pleasant Valley are a bit… odd. And you just don’t fit in. And this is wear Harper (Thomas) comes in.

|- ‘With Henry, it isn't easy

His temper's short, and his mates are sleazy

Except for this one courtier

He's a really nice guy, just so sincere

The royal life isn't what I planned

But Thomas is there to lend a helping hand

So sweet, makes sure that I'm okay

And we hang out loads when the King's away’ -|

And he’s so lovely and caring towards you (Never more then when Buckman leaves for business in other towns), helping you through the transition from your old life to this one. He’s a good friend, to you. And that is most definitely all he is, on your side of it. A friend. You don’t feel attractions towards him at all apart from that, and he doesn’t try to make any moves. Its wonderful!

|- ‘This guy, finally

Is what I want, the friend I need

Just mates, no chemistry

I get him and he gets me’ -|

… Until one day when Buckman has been away for a month, he tells you he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more.

|- ‘He says we have a connection

I thought this time was different

Why did I think he'd be different?

But it's never, ever different’ -|

Lets just say one things leads to another, despite you at first turning him away and saying no. He’s so insistent, and a little scary, and you’re lonely because your husbands’ has been away so long, and… something happens that you regret and feel gross about.

|- ‘Squeeze me, don't care if you don't please me

Bite my lip and pull my hair

As you tell me, I'm the fairest of the fair

Playtime's over.’ -|

You tell Buckman when he gets home, and you watch as every bit of warmth and love in his eye disappears, just like that.

Its not long after that that his jealousy and betrayed rage takes over… and… you die with a rope around your neck and your feet swaying above the ground.

|- ‘Playtime’s over’ -|

(Alternatively, Sheriff Hoyt as Henry and Thomas as Thomas)

‘I Don’t Need Your Love’ (Reader as Catherine Parr): Jason Voorhees as Henry (Your last love was Jason when he was alive)

Five down, I'm the final wife I saw him to the end of his life I'm the survivor Catherine Parr I bet you wanna know how I got this far I said I bet you wanna know how we got this far Do you wanna know how we got this far then? 

So, you’re like the leader of the ‘Slashers Ex Squad’ because you, unlike the others, survived your time with Jason. This is because Jason did, truly, love you (To an extent- not enough to let you go and live your life without him or be free). None of the others really did. Not like he did.

|- ‘Became the one who survived’ -|

Your story:

You and Jason had an adorable little 11-year-old puppy love relationship when he was alive. You were his only friend, and he had it bad for you because of it. Pamela loved you, too.

When he died you were of course devastated, and years later when you were 30 (Making him also thirty- not that you know that. You still think he’s dead at this point) you’re taken by the need to go back to Camp Crystal Lake and pay your respects to your childhood love / friend. Its just one of those nostalgic days.

When you go, and you set flowers down by the lake, Jason catches sight of you. He thinks about killing you… but then your features start to make sense to him. He recognises you, and for the first time since his mother was killed, he feels his heartbeat speed up and swell with hope.

Jason of course kidnaps you then, and keeps you hostage for himself. He missed you. He doesn’t want to survive anymore time without you. You’re all he has left!

… After you realise that this is Jason Voorhees, you quickly learn that this Jason is, of course, not the boy that you cared, and care, so deeply about. He’s done horrible things, and he is never going to stop; And frankly, deep inside… he scares you.

But its not like you can leave him! He would never let you, he’s made that clear. You are all he has, and now, he is all that you have.

|- ‘I don't have a choice

If Henry says "it's you", then it's you

No matter how I feel

It's what I have to do’ -|

So you write a letter to the old Jason (And your old life), saying goodbye, in admittance to the fact that you’ll never be able to get away from this new Jason. This is you letting go of your freedom and any preconceptions that anything will every be the same- with Jason, or otherwise.

|- ‘It's true I'll never be over you 'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you And now the hope is gone There's nothing left for me to do’

'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you

And now the hope is gone

There's nothing left for me to do’ -|

You never stop hating him for how he’s changed (How he’s taken your Jason away, and wont even attempt to go back) and how he’s stolen away your freedom.

|- ‘I'd say "Henry, yeah it's true

I'll never belong to you

'Cause I am not your toy, to enjoy till there's something new

As if I'm gonna give up my boy, my work, my dreams

To care for you"

"Ha, darling, get a clue”

But I can't say that

Not to the king’ -|

You eventually die of natural causes at, like, 60.

[airquietworks]

Bitter Hearts, Sweet Confessions (IzuOcha Oneshot)

Summary: There are some words Ochako cannot bring herself to say, even as she explores a romance with Deku. Bombarded by the onslaught of Valentine’s Day, Ochako is forced to confront the feelings she kept buried deep within. For on Valentine’s, chocolate can be the gateway to love.

The sensation of his hand weaving its way through hers was equal parts lovely and terrifying.

As always, it was oh-so-gentle in its grip. But Ochako could feel the unevenness as their flesh clasped together, their hands both worn and calloused.

It was a strange sensation – but not unpleasant.

 Even walking like this, hand-in-hand, was enough to set her nerves ablaze. Even if this was their third date.

“Umm…would it be alright if we walked the grounds a little while?” He spoke quietly, barely above a whisper, as they found themselves at the front gates of U.A. “I’m...I’m not ready for this to end yet.”

His cheeks reddened as he scratched at a cluster of freckles on the right side of his face. He could be so effortlessly adorable sometimes.

“Sure, Deku!” she replied brightly, despite the hard thumping of her heart. “I’d be happy to.”

Their weeks together had been a whirlwind of conflicting emotions since he had finally, after two years, worked up the courage to ask her out.

It had been a close call, accepting his invitation for their first date. The question had put her on a terrifying precipice. But, in spite of her misgivings, she could not bring herself to say no.

The gravity between them had completely flipped since then. Easygoing interactions were suddenly fraught with fear. Their dialogue had oft become a dizzying dance of awkwardness.

But they were too determined to not see this through. They fought past their nerves. Their first date, albeit terrifying, was still wondrous. Those memories were something she was sure she would treasure for her lifetime, whatever came of things between them.

Now, nearing the end of their third date, they had progressed to regular hand holding. The new gesture was still enough to make her sweat.

Still, they quietly kept connected, their bodies finally starting to mimic their hearts.

“I’ve really had a wonderful time with you tonight.” Deku’s heartfelt words snapped her from her reverie. She rolled with the sudden conversation easily, nodding with a grin.

“Yeah! It was a lot of fun,” she responded with enthusiasm, recalling their pleasant meal together and their various escapades throughout the evening. “That movie really got my blood pumping!”

She raised her fist and flashed a cocksure grin. His answering smile warmed her to her core.

Ochako continued to talk the night away with him, enjoying every moment. They eventually found their way back toward their dorms and their inevitable parting.

“Want to grab a seat?” Deku suggested as they came upon an ordinary-looking bench on the path. “I don’t really want to get back yet.”

“Me neither,” she replied, shaking her head as she thought about the interrogation her friends would put her under after the date. “I guess it’s not too late yet, right?”

The pair gently placed themselves on the bench. They stretched their legs in unison, rolling their worn-down ankles and leaning back.

Ochako took a deep breath, gazing up at the dark night sky. The light pollution kept most of the stars at bay, but there were a few bright spots she could pick out.

She side-eyed Deku, who was leaning back heavily into the bench. He had closed his eyes and was breathing slowly. An unfamiliar peace made its way across his features, plain-looking as ever. Still, she found her eyes drawn to his serene face.

Her pulse quickened, sending blood racing to her cheeks. She bit her lip lightly, clenching her fists and trying to keep control of her nerves. Why did she still get this way around him? She had hoped after years of controlling her tumultuous feelings about Deku, she could handle trying to see if a relationship would work with him. Deep down, she knew her heart yearned for it.

But her infuriating heart made her skittish. She wanted to explore something more with Deku – and how deep her feelings for him truly were - but she could do without their every interaction being a tightrope walk.

“Hey, Uraraka?”

Once again, his voice halted her train of thoughts. She internally chided herself on getting lost in her own mind again.

“What’s up?” She replied, not missing a beat.

Without her realizing it, Deku had scooched himself closer to her. There was barely a foot between them now. He seemed to loom in front of her, his presence sending a light shock through her system. Goosebumps ran up her arms as his emerald eyes gazed at her, a bright spark flickering within them.

“I just...” he trailed off, his throat bobbing with a gulp. At least he was nervous too.

“I just never thought…well, maybe it’s kind of silly.” His eyes were glued to the wood between them, his cheeks as inflamed as hers. “I wasn’t really popular growing up. I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to be with someone like this.”

“Deku…” she might never understand how he, of all people, could not make friends for much of his youth. It was always a sore spot when he brought it up.

“I’ve been really happy being with you, Uraraka. As more than friends, I mean. It’s been…it’s more wonderful than anything I could have dreamed of.”

Why did her heart have to hammer in her chest so fiercely? She felt an unbridled, fiery passion towards the boy in front of her take shape, freezing her in place.

“I...I feel the same way, Deku.” She offered him a tight-lipped smile. It was an honest-enough response, even if she was clamping down on her urges to glomp him.

It was enough to send a bright, beaming smile across his face, one that never failed to delight her. But it did not last long. His face fell, his eyes suddenly looking everywhere but at her.

He gulped again.

“Would it be alright if I…I mean…could I...would it be alright if I…”

She might be as romantically clueless as him, but she could tell what he was getting at.

Her heart thrummed in rhythm with the electricity that seemed to flow between them. Her thoughts went quiet as she became laser-focused on the boy in front of her.

Ochako could not tell what had possessed her. Without a word, she pressed a finger to his lips, cutting off his mumbles. They felt soft to her touch, sending a small shock through her fingertip.

She gazed into his suddenly wide-eyes and took a deep, bracing breath. She refused to say anything, sure she would somehow put her foot in her mouth.

But her head moved. She nodded twice, firmly, to leave no doubt as to her answer. Her chin tilted upwards and her eyes closed. Darkness overtook her sight and she readied herself for whatever might come. 

A second passed. Then two. Her heart rattled rapidly within her, out of control. Another second. She waited.

She felt his breath against her lips.

His mouth was gentle, yet solid, against hers. The contact made her eyes tense up further, determined not to look into his.

She pressed back into his lips. Back into the electric, terrifying, heart-quivering moment. She gave as good as she got, her body refusing to be passive. She heard him gasp slightly as she pushed. But he did not yield, his face standing firm as she washed over him.

The contact burned deeper than their lips’ previous chaste meetings. Their mouths started closed but then opened slightly, moving in unison. They were both still too tepid to go beyond that, but it was enough to send an inferno coursing through her blood.

The moment faded as quickly as it came. As their lips parted, Ochako dared to open her eyes, in time to see Deku open his. There were no nerves in those green irises anymore. Only an admiration, deeper than she had ever seen. She could see the moisture built around the edges of his eyes, piquing her curiosity. She resisted the urge to reach out and wipe them away, the remnant feeling of the kiss keeping her still.

Another beaming smile blossomed across his freckled face. She was sure she wore one to match.

Truly, it must have been magic that had overtaken her.

“I love you, Uraraka.”

With those words, the spell was broken.

Her head spun at the confession. As she tried to process it, his passionate gaze was suddenly something frightening. They were expectant, awaiting a response. She struggled to find her voice under the sudden swell of emotion between them.

She felt her heart racing again. She swallowed a lump in her throat as Deku moved his face away from hers, staring down intently at her.

Ochako tried to summon the right words. She should respond. She had to.

Say ‘I love you.’

Her feelings for him were a knot wound tightly around her heart. She was still slowly untying it, seeing whether the cords would lead them together. It was supposed to be slow, steady, safe. Not jerking forward faster than she could handle.

You love him. Say it.

The buzzing in her mind drove her to panic. Why could she not say anything? His face was questioning now. She had to move.

I love Izuku Midoriya.

“I…that’s…um…why…” she stammered out, her sentences falling over themselves repeatedly. She could not muster the words.

Ochako looked up, hoping to convey something in her expression while her mouth mumbled wordlessly.

But she was surprised when Deku placed his finger over her lips.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything.” Her lip quivered under the watch of his gentle gaze. “I just wanted you to know that.”

His voice was deathly calm. A quiet confidence, as if he were speaking as a hero trying to comfort a victim.

The tone unsettled her deeply.

“Deku…I…” she gulped again. Closed her eyes, trying to find the words from deep within her heart.

I love you.

“…thank you,” she whispered.

His small smile did not betray him. Nor did his gentle hand clasping around hers, as he edged forward, startlingly bold, and pressed his lips to her cheek.

But his clouded eyes showed her the truth. The hurt she had inadvertently wrought, sitting in the water starting to overflow from them.

“I’m going to turn in.” He stood up, not waiting for her reply. “Good night, Uraraka.”

She sat statuesque as he walked away, the light casting his shadow behind him.

The display before her was enough to make her sick to her stomach.  

The rainbow of colour bombarded her eyes, with strings, creams, and moulds as far as her gaze could reach. Red, pink, and white stood out more frequently. Stacks of boxes stood in a far corner, ready to house the affections stored in their many hearts.

The brightness clashed against the browns of chocolate, filling bowls in all kinds of varieties. Normally, she would be all-too-delighted to see such a large amount of sweets. Now, though, the chocolate poured onto her mounting sense of dread.

Other ingredients dotted the terrifying landscape: strawberries, nuts, eggs, butter. No possible ingredient – or expense – was spared for the display.

“I do hope we have enough. I’m pretty sure my list was comprehensive, but I’d hate to think we missed anything.”

Ochako, Mina, Tsuyu, Jirou, and Toru all glanced at one another. They did not dare speak it, but they all knew they shared the exact same thought about Momo.

She’s way too rich.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Toru stepped forward, arms of her uniform flying upwards in her exuberance. “Let’s get to work!”

Ochako shuffled her feet behind her friends, letting them lead the charge to dig into the absurd amount of food before them.

She lacked enthusiasm towards Momo’s idea to make Valentine’s chocolates together. Given that she had ardently refused to disclose what happened during her last date with Deku, she could not summon a good-enough excuse to get out of the activity.

At least it was probably a good idea to make something for Deku. Plus, this was a lot more cost-effective for her than store-bought chocolate.

Ochako reached out and grabbed part of the table, staring intently at what was laid out in front of her. There were more types of chocolate than she could count, from liquid chocolate to baking chocolate to chocolate chips.

“Do you need a hand, ribbit?”

Ochako blinked and looked to her side. Tsuyu stood next to her, a gentle smile on her face, but with eyes as unreadable as usual.

“Well…I guess I could,” she replied with what energy she could muster, turning to stare down once more at the food arranged in front of her. “But I’m not really sure where to start.”

“There is a lot to choose from,” Tsuyu observed, looking out towards Mina, Toru, and Momo, who were eagerly starting on making customized chocolate. “But maybe it doesn’t have to be complicated..”

“Whaddya mean?” Ochako asked, looking over at her friend with a piqued eyebrow.

“Well, you’re making some chocolate for Midoriya, right?”

Ochako nodded in simple affirmation. She did not even sputter about it; she supposed she was growing in that regard.

“And the chocolate is supposed to represent how you feel about a person, right?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, how do you feel about Midoriya? What would best reflect that?” Tsuyu punctuated the question by turning her blank stare to Ochako, dark eyes probing her response.

Ochako sucked in a breath at the dangerous, innocent questions. Once again, she froze in place, trying to find an answer.

I love him.

“Well, I like him.” She gave the words as much bubbliness as she could, flashing Tsuyu a smile, trying to disguise her inner turmoil.

“Liiiikeee him, huh? How much?” Like a manic pixie, Mina hopped over to them, getting far too close on Ochako’s right side. The pink girl’s dark eyes were menacing, a toothy grin wide on her face.

Ochako gulped as her mind scrambled to find a way to thwart her overly-enthusiastic friend. Not even her and Deku getting together was enough to stop Mina’s teasing.

“I dunno. A lot? He’s…he’s my best friend, after all,” The words rang lamely even to her own ears. In desperation, she grabbed a bowl of chocolate, lifting it into the air. “Hey, let’s get to work on making some chocolate!”

“But do you love him? That’s what this chocolate is supposed to be for, isn’t it?” Mina stared intently on her, her yellow eyes piercing right through Ochako.

“I-I don’t know. What does it matter? I’m still just…figuring it out. We only started dating a month ago!” Ochako could not stop the rush of blood to her cheeks. She glared at her pink friend, hoping to intimidate Mina into backing down. She did not need this.

“Well, it matters for your chocolate, after all!” Mina said with an innocent enthusiasm, not budging in the slightest. “Do you not love him, then?”

“No! That’s not it” Ochako shouted, stomping on the ground, outright glowering at her friend. She took a loud step forward, making Mina step back.

An annoying, self-satisfied little smirk blossomed on Mina’s face once the shock wore off. Ochako kept glaring down…until she realized what she herself had said.

She scanned around the room to see the rest of the group all staring directly at her. She could see the knowing little smiles on their faces. She imagined Toru wore one to match the rest.

“Wait! I didn’t mean it like that!” Ochako went into full damage control mode, trying to find the words to turn the tides of this situation. She swung her head around rapidly in search for some kind of lifeline.

“It’s not a big deal, Ochako,” Tsuyu interjected. Ochako felt Tsuyu’s hand grab hers gently, stopping it in place. She had not realized it had been shaking – and balled into a fist.

“Love doesn’t have to be a scary thing,” Tsuyu noted in her simple, matter-of-fact tone. 

Ochako blinked at that and tried to digest how easily the statement rolled of the frog girl’s tongue.

“I...it...that’s not what this is,” she replied in a low tone, eyes glued to the bevy of chocolate, unable to meet her friends’ eyes.

“Isn’t he your best friend?” Tsuyu challenged, forcing her face into Ochako’s vision.

“He is-“

“And you even want to be with him as more than a friend, right?” Mina interjected, impish glee bursting from her voice.

“…I do!” Ochako admitted, spinning her head to try to answer Mina. “But-“ 

“And you really care for him, don’t you?” Toru piped in.

“Yes!” she answered, rearing her head to try to speak to the invisible girl. This was ridiculous. She was not on trial here. “If you can just let me-“

“I don’t understand,” Momo stated serenely, flashing her brown-haired friend a pitying glance. “Why can’t you just say you love him?”

You love him. Why can’t you say it?

“I don’t want to deal with it!”

She could feel her hands shake with unbridled emotion, no longer in Tsuyu’s grasp. Her friends’ incessant questions – and that nagging voice in the back of her mind – finally gave way to sweet, merciful silence. She looked around to see slacked mouths and eyes full of questions.

I don’t want to deal with it.

The words rang through her mind, more clearly than when she spoke them aloud. Her red-hot frustration quickly dissipated. She brought a hand to her mouth as if hoping that doing so might retroactively stop the words from bursting forth.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Kyoka asked bluntly for the other five girls in the room.

“I…I…” Ochako leaned forward, bracing her tense arms against the granite countertop, staring down into it.

Images flashed in her mind. Watching Deku from afar as her feelings for him blossomed. Pushing those feelings down – as she did for so many of her emotions – lest they get in the way or her or the people around her. Struggling with those feelings for years as a strange gravity bound them together.   Those self-imposed, rusted chains had ensnared her heart tightly. They choked her. She wondered if she could even pry them loose.

“Ochako…” Tsuyu placed an elongated hand over hers. “Do you really want to keep doing this?”

Her mind flashed back to her disastrous last date. Deku, so forlorn, acting as if nothing was wrong. Walking away from her, not daring to look back.

Alone.

Her head drowned in the tears she was sure he shed. They fell, splashing on the granite counter below.

Her friends came to her side. They guided her to sit down, and she gladly stumbled into a chair, her limbs suddenly far too heavy.

The nagging voice in her mind grew louder as she calmed down. She refused to cry for long – not with how much she had to do.

Through her watery eyes, she looked back up towards the volume of chocolate wonder before her. As she pondered the potential of all the different varieties, she could feel inspiration bloom forth within her mind.

She had to give him an answer.

“I have an idea.”

Izuku groggily cracked his eyes open, blinking the sleep away from his vision. Remnants of his dreams floated their way through his mind – hazy pink hearts, a fast-moving cityscape, and an overbearing amount of Uraraka’s face.

He reached out a hand and worked to turn off the alarm clock on a table by his bed. He could usually awaken himself before the whining blare of the device at 6:30 a.m., but it never hurt to have a backup.

Izuku groaned and rolled back over when he completed his task. He made long, slow blinks, trying to push off the urge to fall back into slumber. He had an early-morning workout to get to.

Floating a few feet above him was a small, heart-shaped, brown lump.

He blinked again and tried harder to rub the sleep out of his eyes. His dreams must be seeping into reality.

But the lump stayed right where it was, floating solidly above him. He recognized it as chocolate, catching a whiff of the sweet fragrance emanating from it.

It was a plain-looking thing. Milky brown, with darker lines crisscrossing atop it. As the last remnants of sleep dissipated, he noticed there was a delicate character written in the center of the heart.

愛

He blinked, rubbing at his eyes, confused by the kanji for love and affection. He reached out with a hand and grabbed it, pulling it close to get a better look.

The symbol was written neatly for such a small surface, although it was a little rough on the edges. Curious about its floating, he released it from his grip, only for it to remain steady in the air.

“Uraraka,” he whispered to himself in astonishment, unable to control the smile blossoming on his face.

He briefly glanced around his All Might infused room, his groggy mind wondering if she was somehow hiding there. Idly, he plopped the chocolate into his mouth, humming as the sweet taste rolled across his tongue.

Izuku scrambled to get dressed into a warm, green jogging outfit, hoping to track down Uraraka and figure out how exactly she had gotten the chocolate into his room.

More importantly, he wanted to know what exactly she had meant by it; the kanji on its own was generic, after all. He had not anticipated Valentine’s Day chocolate from her amidst their rocky spell. But apparently, she had other plans.

Heart daring to hope, Izuku stepped out of his room to greet the rest of the day, only for his forehead to collide with yet another chocolatey treat.

This one was a little more substantial than the last: a heart-shaped, brown cookie a little smaller than his hand. Another kanji was written on it, this one in a thick, green frosting that matched his suit:

恋

The kanji for longing and romantic love was accentuated with some extra pink sprinkles.

Izuku felt like as if his heart might burst at the sight as he grabbed the cookie with a grin. He instinctively took a bite out of it. It was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted.

His eyes busied themselves with scanning the hallway, half-expecting Uraraka to leap out and confront him. Instead, his eye caught on a small object floating in the air at the end of the hallway. Yet another sweet delight left behind for him.

Izuku found himself guided through the dorms by a series of Valentine's treats floating through the air. Each was emblazoned with a different symbol relating to love, whether it be kanji, oversized hearts, or even the odd word in English. One particularly adorable cupcake had artfully included both their faces. He thought he might break out into tears at that one.

But in this early morning hour, he could not find the person who made him want to leap into the sky.

With his arms starting to overflow with confectionary, Izuku was relieved to see an empty, small cardboard box on the kitchen counter in the common area. Mercifully, there was nobody else there at this early morning hour. He breathed a sigh of relief as he deposited his treats into the box; he did not want to try to deal with probing questions from his classmates.

Another message was scrawled on the inside of the box: “Outside, backdoor.”

Increasingly perplexed, Izuku nonetheless followed instructions. More floating treats guided him when he exited the dorm building, straight into a forested area on campus.  

With each new chocolate came a new message of love and affection, further sending his heart aflutter. His mind struggled to process what, exactly, Uraraka meant by all this. She had shown she was hardly ready to confess love to him – and he was fine with that. What could have brought this on, and where was it all leading to?

Eventually, his eyes finally laid sight on Uraraka in the distance through the spaces between the trees, dressed snugly in a brown coat. Izuku sprung forward with haste, wanting to get close to her and somehow show her just how much he appreciated her unbelievably lovely gesture.

“Wait!” she cried out, holding an outstretched hand as Izuku entered the small clearing she was standing in. Up close, he could see the strain on her face. Her eyebrows scrunched upward and she placed a hand firmly over her gut, a telltale sign she was fighting back Quirk-induced queasiness.

“I’m glad you made it alright. I was getting pretty worried.” Her voice still sounded bright but quick breaths made her uneven. “I just…I need to say something before you ask me anything. Okay?”

Izuku swallowed his nerves, the air filling with a peculiar tension. His mind spun with possibilities of what she might say, unable to judge which outcome was most likely.

He took a steadying breath. It would be alright. This was Uraraka. They had made it this far, hadn’t they?

“Alright.”

Her answering smile was strained and much, much too lovely.

“I know I didn’t say anything when you told me…when you told me you loved me.” Her cheeks reddened at the proclamation, but her speech carried on strongly as she stared him head-on. “I want to apologize for that. I wanted to make it up to you.”

“Uraraka, there’s nothing-“ he tried to interject, but she pushed her hand forward again, staying his tongue.

“I didn’t understand it at the time,” she admitted, chocolate-coloured eyes rolling downward. “Why I couldn’t answer. But I realized after pushing my feelings about you away for so long…I was afraid of them.”

She reached down into a small, pink knapsack she had placed at her feet. She pulled out a sizeable, white box from within. From that, she finally managed to pull out the object she sought: a large chocolate heart with some kind of writing etched into it.

“I used to think it would be better for both of us if I never dealt with those feelings,” she sighed as she slid a finger down her crafted chocolate. “I didn’t know how to deal with them, you know? And I…I still don’t, really. I don’t know what’s going to happen next.”

She looked back up toward him, her eyes connecting with his. Izuku felt his throat catch at the intensity of her gaze, so focused, freezing him in place. The cold wind blew his hair around but did little against the warmth rising in his face.

“But I do know some things. I know I trust you, Deku. I know you’re the best person I’ve ever met. I know I look up to you. And I know these last few weeks, going out with you…they’ve been some of the happiest I can remember.”

He reined in the urge to call out, to rudely interject with his own swelling emotions. Still, he could not stop the tears from falling down his cheeks, the air chilling them against his skin.

She closed her eyes. Breathed in. Out again. She let go of the chocolate in her hands with a push, moving it rapidly towards him.

“I know I want to be with you.” The chocolate sailed quickly through the air. Izuku held out his trembling hands to catch the chocolate heart as it came to him. It was large enough that he needed both hands to hold on to it. He stared down at it with wide eyes, the texture smooth to his touch.

He narrowed his focus down onto the words, etched carefully with a white chocolate lettering.

愛してる 出久

(“I love you Izuku”) 

“…and that I love you, Deku.” She spoke the words as he read them, leaving him no room to doubt his eyes.

The chocolate in his hands shook as his own heart pulsed rapidly. He read the letters carved into it over and over again, words he once feared he would only ever hear from his mother.

He lifted his face up from it and stared back at Uraraka through his own watery eyes. The sunlight bathed her smile through the trees. She peeked at him from underneath her eyelashes, her brown locks framing her face perfectly.

There were no words that would not fail him.

Izuku closed the distance between them with two tremendous leaps, pulling a giggling Uraraka into his arms. He pushed a kiss into her hairline as she wrapped her own arms around him, pushing her face into his chest.

“You…you’re...” he blubbered, trying and failing to find something he could say in response.

“I love you, Uraraka. So, so much.” He decided it would be best to keep it simple.

“Gosh, Deku, I didn’t think you’d cry this much,” she teased, stepping back slightly to thumb a tear off his cheek.

Izuku croaked out something between a laugh and a sob. “Sorry. Couldn’t really help it.”

“Nothing to say sorry for,” she assured him with a smile. “Hey, Deku?”

“Hmm?”

“Would it be alright if I kissed you now?”

The question rolled off her tongue with quickness and ease as-of-yet unseen in their fledgling relationship. He blinked at her and felt his face burn as he stared down at her own mirthful gaze.

He could only nod.

He could taste the chocolate, and the love, on her lips.

AN: Written for the IzuOcha Discord Server Valentine’s Day contest. Thank you to folks in the server for editing this and making it so much better. Ducktective, Deadliest Sin Bin and anyone else I missed, kudos to you. Sorry it’s been a while. I’ve been working on another project which I hope I can bring to fruition. Hope you all enjoyed! Please leave a like and/or reblog if you did. ^_^

[zukadiary]

Beside the Foggy Elbe / Estrellas ~ Star Troupe 2019

First show of 2019! My home base in Japan is usually Kansai, but for the first time I’m in Tokyo for a lengthy stay. I saw Elbe/Estrellas twice in the theater plus the senshuuraku live view. Spoilers, because the ending of Elbe was one of my favorite things about it.

Beside the Foggy Elbe [Summary]

I caught Elbe quite late in the run, and most of the feedback I heard from talking to other non-Japanese fans beforehand was fairly negative, but I found it VERY enjoyable. Elbe is one of the most historically famous original Takarazuka works. While I haven’t seen more than clips and photos of the older productions, I was already familiar with much of the soundtrack, and I always love seeing and hearing classic Takarazuka elements live, especially as a relatively young fan coming in late in Takarazuka’s 105 year history. It’s a special kind of fun to be able to sit in the theater and sing along (even if only in my head) to a show I’ve never even seen. The story is most definitely dated, but I love the vintage-ness of it (if anything, I wish they’d pushed the aesthetics even more vintage). And because it’s an old classic, I was able to suspend my disbelief of the unlikely love story in the same way I can with old Hollywood musicals (is it believable that Dale Tremont falls in love with Jerry Travers three seconds after finding out he wasn’t actually Horace? No but I’m here for it). I also love that they don’t get together!! The first time I saw it, I looked at the clock when Margit and Florian began yelling for Karl on the docks, and went sort of wide eyed when I realized there wasn’t TIME for it to end any way other than heartbreak. I think it’s much more interesting that way.

Quick complaints out of the way first: while the show isn’t really hard to follow, I did find both Beni and Airi quite difficult to understand. Beni uses a very loud, slurred voice to play the foul-mouthed Karl, and while it’s in keeping with her character, I couldn’t untangle a lot of her words, even though they weren’t lines I’d find complicated if I read them. Airi put on a shrill voice that I also found difficult to understand. I get that her character is an ingenue to the extreme so it makes sense, but I still feel like she could have landed somewhere between that and her natural voice and been ok. Additionally, there is a parade in the beginning that I think was an UeKumi addition. I didn’t DISLIKE it, and I understand its usefulness because it’s a very top heavy show and the parade gives the secondary players a bit of fun extra spotlight, but it didn’t really fit the look or vibe of the rest of Elbe. 

I do think you need to like Beni and Airi to enjoy this show, because it is so top heavy (if you love them, I think this will be a really great show for you). I especially liked the role of Karl for Beni. Beni’s Karl was an extremely insecure person who disguised his self-doubt in brash mannerisms and generally poor behavior, which made his moments of sincerity very poignant. Since Beni is known more for her comedic roles than her serious ones, and sometimes seems to be questioned by fans re: her ability to be serious, I thought this really suited her in kind of a meta way. She leaned hard into the brashness because that’s more her strength, but for me she also nailed Karl’s vulnerable moments, and that made them sting extra because it felt like it was coming from a real place. I’m also kind of a sucker for the cross-social-class love story trope. Karl’s behavior for the most part is truly unattractive to the point where it can be hard to sympathize with him, but there are several scenes where you can feel his deep discomfort toward being amongst the wealthy, and how traumatized he is about his ex leaving him because he wasn’t rich enough, and Beni makes them hurt sooooo good (shout out to Otoha Minori who had the very small part of Karl’s ex but really helped succinctly convey that backstory in a way that impacted the whole show).

Margit is a hard sell for me because I don’t find her likable as a character, but I think Airi did a great job hitting the necessary notes. For the story to work, Margit has to be unhappy, but also sheltered, spoiled, frivolous, and naive enough to fall in love with someone she met in a bar at first sight just because he was a little nice to her and the polar opposite of the life she’s trying to escape. Airi made it plausible. She also plays the piano for real a couple of times (angrily!) and I was VERY impressed (Coto also does, but she can’t surprise me with unexpected talents anymore). I think Airi’s strength is sexier more mature characters and I hope she gets to flex that muscle in their taidan show, because in that sense Elbe left a lot to be desired.

As much as I think Karl suited Beni, Coto is the one who made me think it wouldn’t have been quite the same if they’d given Elbe to any current lineup other than Hoshigumi. The least believable part of the entire story is that Florian is too good. There are no men who are that good. Even for the not-men of our 夢の世界 it’s a stretch. But I completely believed that Coto was that good. I don’t even know what to say about her... she can do anything and it’s stupid. Muster up heartbreaking sincerity for a truly unrealistic character? Sure. Play the piano flawlessly while speaking? Why not. (And the way she brushed her coattails out of the way before seating herself at the piano bench made me feel A Way).

The newly inserted Tobias was a nice sendoff for Kai. Not quite as delightful and meaty a role as Kiroku, and not as strong of a goodbye present as Sho Fu Kan, but lovely nonetheless. Tobias was not inherently a remarkable character, but he was an excellent blank canvas on which Kai painted herself, making him cool, hot, and everyone’s big brother—all around lovable. Her costumes made NO sense (cowboy hat??) but she wore them so well I loved them all against my better judgment. Stage time dropped off pretty hard after Beni/Airi/Coto, but the scenes with the other sailors were my favorite, and Kai’s involvement in each was prominent enough (and CUTE enough) to make Tobias feel like a juicy role. She gets a lovely bridge solo toward the end, and fittingly leaves the ship crew to get married (to Mizuno Yuri/Karl’s sister), exiting separately in dramatic fashion to everyone else’s tears and well wishes. 

I found myself charmed by the supporting cast—including (especially??) the nameless lurkers of the background—more than usual. Was it the giant food props? Were they just exceptionally silly back there? I don’t know, but unfortunately the recording won’t illuminate them regardless. As for the named support, Mao Yuuki, Seo Yuria, Shidou Ryuu, and Amahana Ema made up the rest of the sailors with lines and stuff, and while there was barely anything for them to do, I (for reasons not entirely known) found Mao and Seo in particular extremely charming. Amato Kanon played a bratty screaming kid, the exact type of role I’d normally find annoying as hell, but she even managed to make HIM charming; she had a lot of very entertaining wordless interactions with some of the bigger players on the outskirts of various scenes while something else was happening in the middle. Mikkii used 5 of her 7 seconds of stage time prowling through the audience, and seeing her angry face advancing head on toward the gaijin seats was indescribably intimidating. The biggest surprise was I fell a little in love with Mizuno Yuri, who, to be fair, did not have to sing OR dance, but who did play a weird lanky adorably awkward country bumpkin with a stupid accent from Karl’s middle-of-nowhere hometown in a way that I for some reason could not stop watching. She, as Tobias’s bride, also bawled her eyes out on raku when the two of them ran off together. 

So far I still think Another World is the crown jewel of Benigumi, but I’d place Elbe second.

Estrellas

Seeing Estrellas was an odd experience because it got the New Year’s NHK broadcast, and I watched THAT before I saw it live—how often do you see a Takarazuka video BEFORE seeing the show live?? It’s my personal favorite Benigumi revue thus far. I fell in love with it pretty instantly, and interestingly I think a big part of that was the NHK cinematography, which combined with the song selection made it feel more like a concert or a FNS-style big televised music program. I found that fresh. It didn’t have QUITE that same vibe live, but still a good impact. I can see it being polarizing though; it’s very pop and not very Takarazuka at times, and I probably like it so much because I happen to personally like the song choices. 

Allowing for the fact that she was still performing very much within her own quirky style, Beni (up until Tokyo raku) seemed very on point to me, which I was glad to see; my last live Hoshigumi experience was Another World/Killer Rouge in Takarazuka toward the beginning of the run last year, and in Killer Rouge especially it seemed like she was being extremely cautious with her movements in a way that made me wonder if she was nursing or avoiding an injury. Every time I saw Estrellas though she danced full force. Airi had more than one sexy number to make up for Margit, most notably an all musumeyaku dance in the finale portion that I feel like I see pretty rarely from Hoshigumi. Beni and Airi’s duet dance was also VERY cute and very them.

Kai again got a lovely sendoff, a big long 3-song progression with perfectly chosen lyrics. The way she drank in the theater on the last day, like she was really trying to burn the image of the audience into her eyes, was SO much. 

Coto is stupid. She paints with her voice and that gets me real bad. There’s a solid handful of siennes in the top tier of vocals in Takarazuka, and while many of them are gorgeous singers, the only two I’ve heard play and emote with their voices the particular way I’m thinking of are Coto and Daimon. Her vocal control while she’s violently dancing is also astounding. She’s stupid.

Senshuuraku was an ordeal! Estrellas opened with Beni doing what I initially thought was some weird attempt at a sexy breathy thing, and then maybe thought she was trying not to cry, till it became abundantly clear that something bigger was wrong. She got hoarser and hoarser till some notes in “Tonight is What it Means to be Young” failed to come out entirely. She used her chuuzume ad lib time to apologize for her voice... sad, because that was the prime slot for cute and touching moments with the retiring actresses, but she was clearly too panicked and struggling to think of that. Then she explained during the curtain call that she broke her voice at the end of Elbe—and it must have been on the VERY last note, because the entirety of Elbe was COMPLETELY fine (I didn’t even notice a weird crack or anything at the end). I didn’t know you could break your voice that badly on one note, but I guess you can. She was very flustered and apologetic—also full on crying—though every curtain call, and while I can’t blame her for feeling remorseful I wish she’d dialed it back after the first couple of apologies and let the retiring actresses have their moment. But considering her state it was pretty remarkable that she powered through, and I hope she has a chance to recover before the next show.

I’ve lived through my share of Takarazuka retirements, including ones that turned a whole troupe’s vibe completely upside down, but somehow Kai’s feels unusually odd (I imagine Miya’s will as well). I think it’s gonna be a downer of a year. 

[darkouter]

anyways here’s the 11 page 1.5 spacing “short drabble” i wrote for barty and remus in grimmauld place.  who knows what possessed me to do this to myself.  write a short drabble, i said.  it will be quick, i said.  it will be fun, i said.  you know.  like a liar.

cw:  emetophobia, blood, mentions of violence

     Number 12, Grimmauld Place had been fairly peaceful that day.  The Order of the Phoenix members who normally kept the place with a constant level of liveliness were busy, leaving only a few behind.  For the most part, it was quiet.  That is, until a certain Bartemius Crouch Jr. bustles into the home.

     He doesn’t normally show his face here.  No one wants him in the Black home; there is very seldom welcome in the face of his arrival.  It has been years, decades, since he has felt warmth in that home.  The only person that could have provided this for him has long been gone.  The only echo of this past is found in the face that greets him at the doorway. Regulus’ loyal house elf, Kreacher, is a ghost of Barty’s best friend’s presence.  They have a certain respect for each other, though it’s almost entirely based around their bonds to Regulus.

     Kreacher can’t help but take notice of Barty’s manner of entrance.  It’s abrupt, hasty, and the man appears absolutely sickly.  His freckles contrast more against his skin than ever, given how pale he is when he looks at the house elf with wide eyes.  He seems taken aback to be greeted, and he falters with hand pressed against the wall, leaning on it for support.  Out of breath, it takes a moment for him to think.

     “Master Barty?” Kreacher asks with a tentative and hoarse voice.  Despite his drooping and sagging skin in his old age, he manages to convey some sense of confusion and concern in the face of Barty’s interruption.

     At first, Barty can only stutter a syllable or two.  He gathers himself.  “Kreacher, is there.”  Stare. His mouth moves silently as he tries to organize his thoughts.  “Bathroom. Please.”  He only receives a pointed finger in response from the house elf. Barty offers a simple nod before rushing down the hall.  There are following words from Kreacher, directions, but he doesn’t quite register them. With each step further into the home, he begins to recollect the layout.  Barty rarely wanders this deep into Grimmauld Place.  He finds himself surprised when he correctly remembers the placement of the bathroom.

     Stumbling in, he wonders how he managed to get this far.  His fingers tremble so badly that he struggles to lock the door. Sweating, he can feel the acrid taste of nausea biting at his mouth.  He’s so dizzy.  He nearly falls over on his way to the toilet, dropping hard on his knees, and retching.  It’s bile and nothing else.  When did he last eat?  Maybe it’s a blessing that he hasn’t.  Despite the empty stomach, he heaves for far too long, as his sickened state hasn’t been caused by anything physical at all.  

     It’s strange how emotions alone can push someone past queasiness.  Anxiety has always made him suffer, but this is something else.  It isn’t completely unfamiliar to him.  The last time this happened, he was hit by this feeling with such sudden force that he hadn’t had the control he’s shown now.  Perhaps it was because, back then, he had maintained his external calm for a heinous amount of time.

     How can someone hold onto repose like that after killing their own father?

     Shock, perhaps.  Necessity, perhaps.  Insanity? Certainly, he has gone mad, though he can’t pinpoint when.  So much has happened.  Yet, there were eleven years of stagnancy; it has clearly affected him, nonetheless.  With his father, he used his hands.  There were years of reason to justify his actions. Anger, a grudge, and the abuse to reinforce it.  What of this?

     This isn’t the same.  His rage is fresh and raw and insatiable.  With his father, it was embers stoked and consistently fed over years, but this is a roaring flash fire fueled by gasoline.  He has burned himself too, manifesting in reality by way of action and its consequences; his mottled skin on his arm now greyed, necrotic, and scarred from attempts to remove the dark mark is just one example.  Then there is now, overtaken by tears and an acidic taste coating his teeth. He attempts to spit it away, but it clings to him, just a reminder that he’s dirty.  Dirty.  Barty yanks the chain to flush it all away.  Falling back, he slumps against the wall, breathing heavily.  What possessed him to come here and soil those childhood memories?  To drag his rot through a house that no longer held such foul residents?  They don’t deserve this contamination.  This thought screams louder in his head when he looks down at his feet, seeing red.

     Horror strikes his face.  There must be blood in his wake, trailing down the hall from his bootsteps.  He, quite literally, has tainted this place. Nothing fills him. Hollowness.  He feels blank.  Jarringly, he then feels punched with the full amount of what he has done, and he bursts into sobbing.  His back presses into the wall behind him, feet pushing himself into it, and he curls inward, hoping that he might wither from his wild state into nonexistence.  His hands grab at his hair, pulling, and maybe he can tear himself apart.  To stop.  Stop himself.  Stop everything.

     The man was unknown to him.  And if Barty would have recognized him by looking harder, it would be impossible now. Killing death eaters is no longer new to him.  He casts curses with hisses through his fangs, like a feral dog trying to bite anyone he can. Barty is all claws and gnashing teeth and frothing mouth.  That is, except now, when he stares at the floor where he has tracked blood in. Then, he becomes what howls and cries and tries to pull out its own teeth because it’s scared of itself.  Something that wishes it wasn’t rabid.  Something that wishes he hadn’t stomped.

     And stomped.  And stomped. And stomped.

     Its face was mangled when he left it.  The body’s, that is.  Barty thinks: it, it, it. He doesn’t want it to be a he.  He doesn’t want to think that it was ever a person, but that it was always a body, because that feels easier.  But that person screamed and fought because it was not an it, it was a he.

     When Barty can breathe again, when new tears cease to flow, he does not know how long he has been hiding away in that bathroom.  He feels exhausted.  His limbs are heavy.  His head aches.  Barty knows that his eyes must be red and his face puffy.  It takes more time before he gathers himself out of his pile on the floor, pulling himself back into a person.  At the mirror, he washes his face.  Rinses his mouth, then his hair too.  Wonders if he can clean everything about himself.  Remembering, he pulls out his wand, and he removes what he has dirtied across the floor.  Remnants on his shoes.  He thinks that it won’t ever really be gone, will it?  History sticks to his feet.

     Not knowing what to do, he stands for some time.  He lingers in this place that feels liminal; he’s scared to leave it. Instead, he puts it off longer, searching for a towel to dry his face and hair.  He reasons with himself that he can’t leave until there’s no sign of redness to indicate his breakdown.  Following this logic, he stays, feeling like he’s doing no more than floating.  Given the vomiting and weeping and subsequent blankness while standing around, it’s impossible for him to estimate how long he has been here.  Evidently, enough time for someone to feel it necessary to knock at the door.  The sound brings him back to his body, grounding him, and there’s a long moment where he wonders whether to answer at all. Which is silly; of course, he must.

     “Barty?”  He recognizes the voice to be Remus Lupin’s.  “Kreacher told me you were here.”

     Silence.  Barty trudges to the door, taking a deep breath.  Exhales.  It’s tentative, but he slowly opens the door.  He peers out, feeling shy and awkward and disgusting.  It must show because Remus seems taken aback.  Barty would not have appeared too healthy regardless of his current circumstances; lack of much eating or sleeping for the past week (or more?) has taken its toll.  He has always worn sleeplessness under his eyes and rarely stayed nourished when under his own control, but it has simply worsened.

     Remus hesitates.  He can’t say he has felt more sympathy than resentment for Barty, but the shock of Barty’s state before him seems to have rattled his usual stance.  “Can I get you something?”

     Then it’s Barty’s turn to hesitate.  He doesn’t like asking for things.  Doesn’t like to overstay his welcome, which really means that he should never set his foot in the door.  But he feels so dizzy and out of place that he cannot reasonably leave right now. Thinking of it, he wonders if he can walk very far at all because standing alone has made him feel faint.  “I.”  His eyes fall to Remus’ feet.  Those are clean.  Curious, his eyes flicker down the hall.  There doesn’t seem to be anything left behind.  “Could I.  Get a glass of water.”  He gazes back up at Remus. “If that’s okay.”

     It’s off-putting.  Remus is fully aware of Barty’s displeasure in remaining here.  Given what he believes has been a long stay in the bathroom for Barty and the red eyes, he has many questions.  He doesn’t ask.  Instead, he nods politely.  Barty has always earned that much from him, though entirely due to Dumbledore’s word. “Yes.  You can, yes.  Come along.”

     Barty emerges from his place of safety, wary of his surroundings as Remus leads him to the kitchen.  He’s possibly more upset when Order members show him kindness than when they do not. Remus has always afforded him that luxury, somehow.  Very shallow, yes, but Remus does not glare at him with contempt the way others do. Barty does not hear venom in Remus’ tone.  That seems terribly nice from Barty’s perspective.  He knows Remus must be so much more close to Harry than most people that walk through these halls.

     It’s all a daze, but Barty finds himself leaning against a counter as he hears glass clatter.  Water running.  Out of focus, it takes Remus calling Barty? for him to recognize that a cup is being offered to him.  He takes it gently, and he utters a confused, quiet, and too meek thank you in his usual flavor of gratitude within this house.  They are quiet.  This is the extent of the kindness, Barty thinks as he drinks.  The reality is that Remus is mostly just inspecting him.  Remus doesn’t quite understand what he is taking witness to right now.

     It’s a loud crack that yanks them from their stillness.  Noisy running greets their ears along with a shrill voice.  “Master Barty!  Master Barty!”  Barty stiffens, standing upright, and he feels his jaw clench as he stares wide eyed toward the kitchen entrance.  He sets his water aside as his house elf bounds into the room, much the way he himself entered Grimmauld place earlier.  “Winky is here!  Winky is here for Master Barty!”

     Upon seeing her, he immediately falls to his knees.  He nearly plummets to the ground entirely in his weakness, stopping himself with a palm on the ground, and his other arm opens wide.  As soon as she’s near, he grabs her in a hug. “Winky.  What are you doing here?”

     “Kreacher told Winky about Master Barty!  Winky is worried, so she is coming to Master Barty to make sure he is okay!”  It’s now that, looking over her shoulder, Barty sees Kreacher trailing into the kitchen. Only now does Barty realize that it must have been Kreacher who cleaned the floors of Barty’s terrible mistake. He simply hugs her tight, thankful to have her, though it must make him look worse to Remus, that Kreacher felt the need to summon Winky.  It certainly has the other man curious, as Remus regards Barty with a puzzled expression. It makes little sense to him how Barty has always treated Kreacher so respectfully, and seeing Barty show such warmth toward his house elf only serves to further bewilder.  “Master Barty, you is awful looking!  Winky will make you dinner.  Master Barty needs to eat! You is never eating, you has never eaten enough, and Winky is filled with worry for Master Barty always!”

     Barty simply shakes his head, and his eyes shortly flick toward Remus before focusing on Winky while he pulls away from the hug.  “N- no, Winky, I am fine.  This is not — we are not home right now,” he mumbles.

     “Master Barty will eat in the Black home.  Master Regulus would want Master Barty to eat,” Kreacher reasons.  

     Remus continues to watch, befuddled by the house elves’ insistence on taking care of this man, once a death eater.  Yes, house elves might remain loyal to their families regardless of how they are viewed by their masters, but these two aren’t really bound to Barty by any means. Kreacher never has been.  He hasn’t complained about Barty’s traitorous intentions toward pureblood kind.  Winky has been released from Barty’s care since Barty Crouch Sr. died, and this is not to mention that the man now down on his knees hugging her was the one to murder the Crouch home’s last head of house.  She showed beyond no ill-will, but a true desire to take care of Barty despite his betrayal.

     “I am not your master, Kreacher.”  Barty sighs. “You must not call me that.”  Making a scene is the last thing that he wants. Still, Kreacher hobbles over to them, looking quite stubborn with his chronic hunch and crossed arms.  Winky appears just as determined.  It seems that she never will be able to stop being his caretaker, as she has been for almost his entire life.

     “The kitchen is mostly under Molly’s supervision,” Remus notes.  He is not looking at Barty, but over to the entrance. Barty only then realizes that they have gathered an audience of one, with Mrs. Weasley eyeing them with an equally bemused stare.  Her brows are furrowed, as she has never quite been able to hide her dislike, choosing what one might call aggressive passive-aggression.  She stares at him hard.

     Having weighed her decision carefully, it seems he has made claim to some amount of sympathy from her.  Barty is completely certain that he must be in pathetic condition when she announces it. “You can have dinner here.  Be sure to eat at the dining room table.” After the curt acceptance, she abruptly turns and leaves.

     It’s a bit late, but Barty sputters a “thank you.”

     From the other room, he hears:  “You’re welcome, dear.”

     Molly Weasley terrifies him more than anyone else here, he thinks.

     Given the permission, the house elves begin zooming around the kitchen.  “Kreacher will make tea for Barty.  The werewolf can take Barty to the dining room.”

     Remus seems to go rigid.  His secret, once again, is taken from him.  He shouldn’t be surprised by now, but it particularly goes down sour to have it announced to Barty.  Worse yet is the dumb-founded look spread across his face.  Remus’ arms cross, feeling defensive.  Barty composes himself.

     “Kreacher, that is.”  He reaches upward, rubbing his forehead.  He still has a headache.  “Well beyond rude.  You shouldn’t say things like that.”

     “Kreacher thought that Barty was not his master,” replies the house elf haughtily.

     Barty furrows his brows, now pushing himself up with hands on his knees. “I doubt Regulus would care for you to conduct yourself with such ill-form.  Remus is, after all, a guest in the Black home.  You reflect poorly upon them.”

     The house elf doesn’t spare him a glance.  “That is up for Kreacher to decide.”

     Now standing, Barty sighs.  The most he can do is offer Remus an apologetic expression.  What he receives back is a perturbed face.  It manages to soften.  “You tried,” Remus acknowledges, and he beckons Barty to follow him to the dining room.

     While most of the home was still in disrepair, much less grand than when Barty was a boy, the kitchen and dining room are far more presentable.  He supposes this must be due to Molly’s frequent use of the kitchen and the dining room serving as a place of conference for the Order.  It no longer feels as intimidating to him as when he was a boy.  He and Regulus were so small.  Remus gestures to the long table for him to sit, and Barty does with a nod in thanks.  Then exiting, Barty is alone.

     It’s hard to sit in this place.  The nostalgia isn’t pleasant like most would feel when encountering a place with fond memories.  It’s painful. Oppressive, even.  It only makes him think of what he misses.  Nothing was ever perfect for him, but coming to the Black family house was a reprieve from a hostile home life.  Two boys horsing around.  He remembers hiding under this table when playing hide and seek.  Regulus grabbed him by the ankle and pulled him out as they screamed with laughter.  Now this place contains meetings with the goal of stopping people like who they became.  Barty wonders if Regulus would feel just as out of place as Barty does now.  Then again, Barty always feels like Regulus had a sense of self that he never had or ever will have.  Confidence.  Enough to emotionally reclaim what was his.  He likely could have walked right in without this anxiety.  Barty wishes he would.  Wishes Regulus would run in, grab him by the arm, and lead him to his room, and he would show Barty all of his obnoxious knick-knacks, and Barty would be delighted.  Yes, Barty wishes that.  He has wanted to see that room ever since he first revisited Grimmauld Place, but he never dared.  He isn’t sure he ever will find it in him to.  Even if someone invites him.

     For the umpteenth time that night, he finds himself being dragged back to reality. This time it’s with the arrival of Winky and Kreacher with his promised meal.  It’s vaguely upsetting to see them serve him, though there is something comforting about it.  While Kreacher chooses to leave, Barty requests Winky stay, and she sits in his lap with one of his arms wrapped around her.  This is another depressing form of nostalgia, as the last time he had the pleasure of dining with her like this was while he lived in the Crouch mansion, enslaved by the Imperius curse.  It still brings him happiness to have her here.  He wouldn’t have it any other way.  He misses her dearly.

     They still don’t get it, Remus and Molly.  Unable to simply leave Barty be, they peer into the dining room periodically before stepping aside to talk about it.  Stranger and stranger he seems to them.  “Do you think he’s really so fond of her?” Molly asks after a suspicious peek at the guest.

     “I don’t know.”  Remus keeps his gaze pointed towards his hands, rubbing a thumb against his palm. It’s all interesting.  “You know, I never could understand how he became a death eater.  I knew him while at Hogwarts.  We were both prefects, so he would come to me sometimes.”  He chuckles with slight disbelief.  “He was… Talkative.  He always said he didn’t like death eaters, and a few of the kids he ran around with were muggleborn.  It never added up to me.”

     “I didn’t know him, but the way Minerva described him when they caught him — he sounded evil.”  She never asked Harry about that night since, though she desperately wanted to know more. Dumbledore warned them all about talking to him about it.  “Absolutely vile.  Mad. But we’re supposed to accept him now? I just don’t understand it.”

     Remus nods.  “I never saw him like that; haven’t seen him at all since school.  I almost didn’t believe he could be a death eater, and I still wasn’t entirely sure after the trial.  But after Lily and James…  Well, anything seemed possible.”  His face fell, incapable of not becoming somber at the memory of the Potters and Sirius and Peter.  That night made it so hard for him to trust anyone again.  “But that man in there seems more like the boy I knew than anything anyone has said about who he is supposed to be now.  Dumbledore knows something we don’t.”

     “I wish he would explain more.”  And that, they could both agree on.

     Remus took it upon himself to try and understand.  Curiosity had won against his reservations about Barty, so he grabbed himself a cup of tea before entering the dining room.  He finds it less reasonable to hold onto his anger after Harry expressed to him that he found Barty to be pitiful and disappointing rather than someone to be hated.  Perhaps Dumbledore had explained to Harry why this man started visiting them. Remus doesn’t exactly know if Harry forgave Barty, though either way wouldn’t surprise him.  Harry has gone through so much because of this man, but the boy has always been so full of a desire to seek out the goodness in people. He isn’t unlike Dumbledore in that respect, Remus thinks.  Whether Barty deserves that kindness has yet to be seen.

     Barty never expected the company, so his eyes widen from his corner at the very end of the table.  Winky, too, blinks her large eyes at Remus as he sits down across from Barty.  A pause falls between them as Barty expects Remus to make some comment.  When he doesn’t, Barty becomes quite sheepish, and he returns to his soup so that he isn’t expected to fill the silence either.  The only sounds between them are the soft clacks of silverware and sipping.

     Finally, unable to remain silent, Barty speaks:  “I — well.  Thank you. For both of you.”  He paws at his soup with his spoon.  “Letting me be here, that is.”  If Sirius had been the one to find him, he certainly would not be sitting at this table.

     “Why did you do it?”

     Barty’s eyes raise from his food, astonished by the question.  It seems so abrupt from Remus, of all people.  The accompanying intense stare, also unusual, only exacerbates this feeling.  It takes him a moment to entirely wrap his head around what Remus is asking.  It’s such an all-encompassing thing to inquire; there’s too much to be said, and he isn’t sure what Remus wants to hear. Barty’s eyebrows knit together.  “That is…  Rather complex.  There is a lot to say.”

     “I have the time,” Remus encourages.

     It isn’t that Barty doesn’t want to explain.  In fact, he yearns for it.  He wants people to understand.  Maybe they will still hate him by the end of his story, but he just wants them to listen. However, he hasn’t even begun, and it feels like it may end up too overwhelming to repeat it in its entirety the same way he did to Dumbledore.  Barty’s eyes fall on Winky.  He isn’t sure either that he could start with her in the room.  “Winky.  Do you think you could check on Kreacher?  See if he needs help with anything.”

     He and Remus know fully well that Kreacher isn’t doing any work anyways. Perhaps Winky around might facilitate some change in that area.  Barty just wants her to go for now.  She seems crestfallen at the request, but she slides off his lap.  “Winky does what Master Barty asks.”  As she walks away, Barty takes the chance to try and finish his soup to fill in the time before she exits.

     Then setting it down, he sighs at the bowl, fingertips tapping away at it. What to say.  Where to begin.  “How much do you want to know?”

     Remus considers.  “Everything,” he decides.

     The expression Barty gives him betrays that he feared Remus would say that. “Alright.  It just.  I do not know how long it will take to tell you.”

     Remus nods, now also looking down at Barty’s bowl.  “If not tonight, you can finish tomorrow night.  Or whenever you next have a chance.”  Barty tilts his head at Remus.  Remus continues, “Something tells me you could do with more meals here.”

     Barty’s stare is long.  Bewildered, to say the least.  He never expected the offer.  Frankly, it doesn’t make sense to him.  Doesn’t seem reasonable.  There isn’t a reason to want Barty here, want his explanations.  Even from Dumbledore, he can’t understand the kindness he was given by being able to share, nor the later acceptance.  To think Remus would give him the same privilege is an alien concept. But he nods.

     “If you wouldn’t mind,” Remus adds.

     “Yes.  Of course, yes.  I can tell you everything.”

[glitterysummerkitty]

Aaron Paul

Aaron Paul One Shot

Requested on Wattpad

Warning(s)- None

       Bad was a very mild word to describe the dark acrid liquid, that sat in the paper cup staring back at you dully. Usually you prefer to grab a coffee on the go before you got to work but for the first fifteen days of the new film you were schedule to film, left you stranded in a remote forest. To access the nearest convenience store one had to travel forty five miles which you didn’t fancy at all. So you had to settle down for the mediocre coffee being served on set.

      On a brighter note, today was the third day and you knew that the other lead actors were due to arrive. You had been called in early to test a few things and also to film those small bits where your other co- stars weren’t required. Today Jennifer Lawrence, Toby McGuire and Aaron Paul were due to arrive.

      Aaron Paul’s arrival alone had left you in jitters and butterflies in stomach since he had been your celebrity crush for as long as you can remember. You fiddle with your coffee cup, absent minded, as you cast your mind back to the time when your agent, Sally, had called to inform you about the way. You still remembered like it had all happened only yesterday. As Sally gave the gist of the story over the phone you had listened to it intently. You had liked it and would have said yes immediately but your sister’s words about acting nonchalant stopped you from giving an affirmative nod just yet.

      That was until Sally had thrown, at the end of the conversation, in the same casual, professional tone of hers, “Oh and just so you know, they have already cast Jennifer Lawrence for the other female lead and for the character paired with your character they have cast Aaron Taylor. Do you know him? He’s a great actor. The directors and producers both feel that you two would make a great pair.”

      Her words had set your heart racing and fluttering all at the same time and these were the words that made you forget all about acting cool and you nearly leaped into the phone informing your agent that you were free that evening to talk about the details of the movie and it’s schedule along with your manager.

      In hindsight it all seemed childish to you. Surely the Aaron Paul wouldn’t find any interest in a newbie actress now, would he? It was one thing to fantasise about him instead of finding sleep at night but this was reality. You had heard a lot about Aaron’s professionalism and doubted he would even look beyond the professional relation you two would be sharing.

      Like air leaving a slowly deflating ball, you feel your excitement leave you as the keen nip in the forest air picked up. You pull the ends of the jacket closer and wish that these next few days that you have to be here would pass quickly.

      Your assistant’s voice announcing, that you were next up for make- up and hair, cut through your thoughts and you look up to meet her eyes, but instead they come in contact with a pair of blue eyes staring right at you. His penetrating gaze seems to suck the breath lung right out of your lungs, forcing you to suck in air audibly through your mouth.

      Your eyes dart towards your assistant, and you nod at her slightly, before your gaze flickers back at your celebrity crush, who was looking at you with a hint of amusement in his blue eyes although his face remained stoic.

“Hello. You must be Y/N. Am I right?”, he said when he came to stand before you.

      You couldn’t decide whether it was the shock of seeing him in person or hearing his voice in person or a little bit of both, had led to you forgetting your vocabulary in its entirety. You wanted to respond but somehow your mouth seemed unable to convey what your brain was relaying to it.

“Yes— That would be me.”, you mumble, after a good long while.

“Hi. I am Aaron.”, he grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement now.

“Nice to meet you.”, you squeaked as you placed your hand in his rather large and warm hand. You both shake hands and your fuzzy mind takes notice of two things- how he tightly held his hand and also how it lingered much longer than necessary, not that you minded either of it.

“So you are playing my love interest.”, you sensed a hint of mischievous delight in his voice and for a moment you wondered if you imagined it.

      Agonisingly you watch his face split in a wide smug grin as you just nodded your head. In your head it was chaos but outside you were all frozen up and if you could you would have kicked yourself for acting like a lunatic before this man you adored. Embarrassed and convinced that you had made a complete fool out of yourself you storm towards the trailer allocated to you.

                                                   ****

      That was the first day and then there is today. The process of filming was almost coming to an end and you couldn’t believe that not only how amazing this whole experience was for you but also how you had become extremely close with your co- stars. Toby was not only an extremely amazing actor but also a good human with a charming personality. Most of the time he had been serious around the set but occasionally he allowed his mischievous to come out. Jennifer was also an amazing fun loving woman and you enjoyed every girl time you two had after long hours of filming. Also you bonded well over gossiping.

      But there were also times when she pissed you off and this was one of those moments. You both were seated in the quite Japanese restaurant in Toronto, enjoying a simple meal of Sushi and wine in the serene restaurant and for some reason she couldn’t shut up about yours and Aaron’s blooming friendship.

“You know you like him.”, she said for the hundredth time as she shoved a piece of Sushi in her mouth and you couldn’t help but groan. One thing about J- Law- she could be very persistent.

“I don’t.”, you lied instantly. For all the bonding you two did over the past couple days, you still couldn’t admit the truth to her. Not that you didn’t trust her, you did but you were embarrassed to admit out loud how your silly crush on Aaron had evolved into love for the man.

“He likes you too.”, she continued.

      You roll your eyes at her. Aaron and you had probably become best of friends but that didn’t mean he liked you. Besides it would be preposterous to think he would want more when he had explicitly confessed that he would never consider dating another actor.

“No he doesn’t.”, you mumble, hurt to say that one out loud.

“Oh really? Then what is he doing there when I had clearly stated that this was our day?”, she smirked, as she sipped her ice tea and let her gaze slide over something beyond you.

     Confused you follow her gaze and are pleasantly surprised at the sight of a solemn Toby and grinning Aaron strolling purposefully towards you and Jennifer direction. Like the thousand other times, you felt fluttering sensation in your stomach as Aaron slid in the pace next to you in your booth.

“Hello ladies. Mind if we join you?”, Toby spoke as he sat down next to Jennifer who was smirking at the two.

“Well not at all. We were just talking about Aaron anyways.”, she teased. You gasp and quickly shoot a warning glance towards her but she just winks at you.

“All good I hope.”, Aaron chuckles next to you and you feel the tingling sensation in the pit of your stomach intensify.

“Jheez... Thanks Jen.”, you mumble under your breath as you nervously push your hair behind your ears and try to focus on your food instead. As you pick your glass of iced tea, out of the corners of your eye, you notice the three of them exchanging curious glances, as if they were secretly enjoying a joke that only they knew about.

“Aren’t you guys going to order something?”, you point out to the two men.

“Nope. We already ate.”, Toby answers for the both of them.

“Then why are you here?”, you laugh.

“I came here to drag this one out of here. Come on Jen. I would really like to perfect that scene before we have to repeat it in front of a camera.”, Toby poked at Jennifer’s cheeks. You giggle as you look at Jennifer glare at Toby mockingly before poking her tongue out and squinting her eyes at him. You thought that they were too cute sometimes. Of course they were best of friends and there was no room for anything else there but still. Their friendship was totally adorable.

“Well then in that case I am almost done.”, you chuckle but are taken back when the two of them abruptly abandon their friendly banter and turn to you and loudly exclaim a “NO” at the same time.

“You stay here and finish your lunch. Get a dessert. We will be off.”, Jennifer spoke rapidly as she shoved Toby, forcing him to get up while she slid out of the booth as well.

“Oh, and the bill is on you!”, she winked at you and gave a pointed look at Aaron, who, you only noticed now, had gone completely silent ever since he arrived, before walking out of the restaurant along with Toby.

“Sometimes she’s so weird.”, you say in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

“That’s one way of putting it.”, Aaron chuckles as he got up and occupied the seat opposite to you.

“Hhmm. You don’t have to stay.”, you say.

      Pushing the plate of half eaten sushi you lean back in your seat and silently contemplate on ordering dessert or just paying the bills and leaving when Aaron spoke, “Do you remember the first day we met each other? It was in that God forsaken forest.”

      Aaron laughs softly as he looks down at the table, as if he was fond of the memory. You instantly cringed at the memory thou, and wished he would forget it. Of course you remember the day you had made a complete fool of yourself but what you couldn’t understand was why he was bringing this up now. You look at him and find him observing you keenly. There was something definitely very much off in his behaviour today.

“Ya. I totally remember. I was fumbling for words around you and made a complete fool out of myself. God! I had never been more embarrassed of myself in my entire life.”, you laugh.

“Not to forget you snorted when I finally managed to get a laugh out of you.”, he laughs before adding, “And took a tumble into the brook while doing our first ever scene together!”

“Oh God! Please don’t remind me of that!”, you groan and cover your face with your palms.

“Oh come on! There’s no need for you to be embarrassed about all that.”, he coos.

“Of course I am embarrassed! And to think you are still friends with me!”, you sink further into the seat.

“I am aren’t I?, But seriously. Why were you so nervous around me?”, he asks taking a sip of the water from your glass. You notice it and smile to yourself. You had noticed this before too. Aaron always felt the need to take a sip from your drink and you obviously didn’t mind that.

“Well wouldn’t you like to know.”, you mumble.

      Aaron lets out a sigh as his gaze turns serious. Suddenly you feel the atmosphere turn very serious and wonder what was going on.

“Is everything alright?”, you ask raising an eyebrow. Aaron doesn’t reply immediately but when he does, the words leave your mind ecstatic and confused at the same time.

“I like you.”, he states softly. “I like you very much.”

“What?”

“You heard me Y/N.”, he chuckles, “I like you. Now I know you are confused. I told you once that I would never consider dating someone from the industry and all that but I....”

      His gaze shift to beyond you and for the first time you notice the nervousness in his eyes. The always confident and cheerful Aaron looked nervous and, for reasons you couldn’t understand, that made you want to squeal.

“But?...”, you coax him to continue as he seems to be lost in thought. His eyes flicker back to yours and latches on to your gaze.

“Y/N, I was attracted to you the very instant I first laid my eyes on you. At first I thought hey... She’s hot and beautiful. Then I spoke to you and we had so many conversations and I realised you were also so smart, not to mention talented and a beautiful woman on the inside as well. For as long as I could remember I had set this rule that I would never date my co- star or someone from this industry but I think I am willing to make an exception this time. I mean... I can’t let you go... I mean--”

“Oh my God! Aaron! Look at you! Stumbling on your words.”, you tease.

“Oh Shut up!”, he mumbles.

“I never thought in a million years that you can be nervous. The Aaron Paul nervous!”, you laugh but stop when you notice his unease.

“Aaron”, you say softly and place your hand on his, which was sitting on the table. “I— The reason why I was first nervous around you was... I had a crush on you even before I met you. I saw all your movies and I loved Breaking Bad. You are crazy talented and so good looking and I was, well, me! I was so worried about impressing you I guess.”

      Aaron continued to look at you but you could see he was no longer as nervous as he had been only a couple of minutes ago.

“The truth is I like you too.”, you admit shyly. In your mind you knew you were in love with the man but for now you settled for just like not wanting to scare the poor man away.

“So would you be my girlfriend then?”, he grins.

“Only if you agree to be my boyfriend!”, you squeal making him roll his eyes playfully at you.

“Wow! You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that.”, he brings your hand up to his face and places a soft kiss on your knuckles, making the butterflies in your stomach go wild.

“You want to get out of here or what?”, you ask.

“Sure.”, he says and you both rise from your seat before proceeding to leave the hotel. Once you settle the bills you both step out and soon Aaron catches hold of your hand and entwines his fingers with yours. You look down at where your hands were joined and suddenly the reality of the whole situation seemed to come crashing on you- Aaron had just asked to be his girlfriend and you had said yes!

“So...”, you look up at Aaron who wiggles his eyes at you and you instantly knew he was up to no good.

“What?”

“Now that we have established that we are interested in each other how about rehearsing that love scene which is scheduled a few days from now.”, he says and you gasp.

“Oh God! No! Thank you very much!”, you shriek.

“Why not?”, he whines.

“I am not doing anything with you Aaron!”

“You’re mean!”, he pouts as you both come to stand at a crossing. You giggle, watching the signal which indicated that pedestrians weren’t supposed to cross yet.

      You look at your entwined hands and then back at the man. You still couldn’t believe all of this was happening. Ignoring the fact that you both were still practically standing on the side walk you stand on your toes and place a soft kiss on his lips. Surprised Aaron looks down at you but soon pulls you into a long and passionate kiss.

[begonethoughtt]

1.

Contrary to what Iwaizumi thought, you hadn't tripped because you were drunk.

In fact, you've only had one drink the whole night, and even as much of a light weight as you are, it wasn't enough to get you as fucked up as you appear.

You're not drunk. What you are is a klutz. And a nervous one at that.

And who could blame you, really? Ever since your friends had invited you to the game you'd been working yourself up into a frenzy. You'd spent hours wrangling your hair into what you hoped looked like a more sleek, mature style, and then spent time applying a full face of makeup.

All to spectate at a volleyball game.

Truthfully, you could barely even focus on the game. Save for the moments when a scored point drew your attention back to the court, your eyes repeatedly drifted to the sideline: to a head of spiky brown hair, to broad shoulders covered by a fitted black Team Japan polo, the sleeves of which barely fit around thick, toned arms.

You popped another stick of gum into the growing wad in your mouth--much to your friends' amusement--and tried not to get caught staring.

What were your friends even thinking, bringing you here? The last time they'd invited you to a game, Iwaizumi had immediately caught your attention across the court. You'd apparently not been subtle when asking your friends about him, and they'd set to work getting intel from their significant others on the team. Besides learning Iwaizumi's name and the fact that he was the national team's athletic trainer, you'd learned that he made a habit of stretching the players out and that he was, according to Komori, "super single."

You wondered if anyone would have volunteered this information if they knew how much you'd been creeping, you thought, as you watched yet another JNT clip online in the hopes of seeing Iwaizumi on the sidelines.

It was different watching him work for a whole game, talking to the players during technical timeouts, helping to reapply Ushijima's KT tape, checking Sakusa's wrists and guiding him through some stretches when they seemed to bother him. Even from here you could sense the strong, reliable presence he had, the reassuring vibes he gave the whole team.

You leaned over and asked your friend if she was sure Iwaizumi was joining you all at the club after the game. She laughed at the eager look on your face and said yes, told you not to worry.

"I'm not worried," you'd said, popping yet another stick of gum.

That was hours ago, by now. After you insisted on getting a picture with the Vabo-chan mascot, smiling wide and throwing up a silly peace sign, your group had made its way to the club. You opted for a caipirinha, since the taste of minty gum still lingered in your mouth anyway, and sat at a high table with some friends while the rest made their way to the dance floor.

Iwaizumi is dressed far more casually by the time he arrives, dark buttoned shirt over boot cut jeans and a military-style jacket. His eyes glance around until he sees Suna, Komori, and Issei waving him over and begins making his way over to your table. After daps with the guys he knew, he greeted the one friend of yours he'd met before, who raised her brows as she gestured to you and introduced you to Iwaizumi.

God, but he has nice teeth, you think as he smiles brightly at you. He moves to shake your hand, but you remember your friends' advice from earlier and decide to be brave. When he gets closer, instead of shaking his hand, you place one hand on his shoulder and move in to kiss his cheek in greeting. You hope it's smooth, like your friends promised it would be, and not weird or presumptuous or awkward like your brain is screaming at you. You hope Iwaizumi can't feel or see your hand shaking as you pull it away from his shoulder and force it onto your lap under the table. "It's nice to meet you," you say, swallowing as you pull back, trying not to think about how good he smells--like some mixture of patchouli and cedar.

He blinks at you a few times, resting his hand on the table. "You too," he says, and you immediately take a long sip of your drink, draining the rest of it and setting the glass down. "I'm about to go grab a drink, if you wanna come with and get a refill." He gestures to the empty glass.

For a moment you panic, glancing desperately at your friends, who look at you with wide eyes and make shooing motions at you. You look back at Iwaizumi, who gives you an expectant look, and nod, hopping off your seat.

You knew he was taller than you, objectively, but this is the first time you've been close enough to appreciate the eight or so inches he has on you as he leads the way through the crowd towards the bar. Occasionally he glances back to make sure you're still with him, but you're barely 5'5" with your boots on and sometimes the crowd swallows you easily. When this happens, Iwaizumi lightly grasps your elbow with one big, strong hand and guides you through the club until you're at the bar.

It takes a few minutes for the two of you to get the bartender's attention, after which Iwaizumi orders whiskey, "and whatever she's having," he says, taking out his wallet. You open your mouth to object, but he waves you off immediately, gesturing to the waiting bartender. You order a soda, to which Iwaizumi frowns as the bartender gets to work.

"You can get another drink if you want," he says, and you shake your head.

"I actually don't drink much," you tell him, recalling the way you'd passed on the tray of shots your friends had bought earlier. Iwaizumi nods but doesn't ask why, which you appreciate, and soon the bartender is setting your soda down on a napkin in front of you. You nod your thanks and take the glass.

You and Iwaizumi linger by the bar for a few minutes, not in any hurry to return to the group as you talk, as much as you can over the noise of the club, anyway. He asks how you met your friends who are now dating his friends, and you laugh and say that it's a long story.

Iwaizumi smiles, his glass pressing against his bottom lip.

"I've got time," he says, then drinks.

Sometimes he leans in to hear you better over the noise, until you're nearly talking directly into his ear and you can smell his cologne again. He tells you about how he's known Issei since high school, how he works with Suna and Komori, and you nod as if this is new information.

You're still only halfway through your explanation of how you came to know your friends when one of them bounds over to you, fresh off the dance floor. She greets you enthusiastically, getting the bartender's attention and ordering another shot as she introduces herself to Iwaizumi and side eyes you maybe a bit too obviously. You hope the look you give her conveys both your immediate panic and your begging her to not say anything, without being too obvious to Iwaizumi.

After downing her shot, your friend takes your hand, insisting you join her and her boyfriend for at least a few songs. You glance quickly between her and Iwaizumi, who's in the middle of getting another drink, wondering if you should ask him to join you. Before you can, you're being whisked away, and you look back at Iwaizumi, who laughs and lifts his glass in your direction before he disappears from your sight.

You've never been much of a dancer--at all--but you feel a bit braver with your friends nearby and hidden in a crowd. You can pick up a beat and move with it if you need to, and for once you decide to let yourself roll with it and have fun, somewhat hoping that Iwaizumi is watching.

The trip happens as you're returning to the table. It looks like some of your friends have left for the night, but a couple remain, and as you exit the dance floor you spot them with Iwaizumi, Issei, and Komori. Iwaizumi is sitting where you were before, laughing at something Issei says with one hand on his chest. He's got a good laugh, you think, making your way over.

Flushed and giddy as you are from dancing, you're sure that you probably do look drunk. But the only thing that trips you up is your own clumsy feet, your boots catching on the steps leading up to the seating area. You put your hands out to brace yourself, your body well practiced in minimizing fall damage, but instead of hitting the floor, they're caught by a pair of strong, sturdy arms.

"Whoa, careful there," Iwaizumi says, letting you cling to his arms as you right yourself and regain your balance. "Are you alright?"

You nod, staring up at his wide, sincere eyes. "I'll be fine. Just clumsy."

Iwaizumi's mouth twists in a frown. "Are you sure? I can take you home, if you're not feeling well."

You can feel your flush spreading to your ears. Truthfully, you're not feeling well, though probably not for the reasons Iwaizumi is thinking. You're not physically ill, not feeling dizzy or nauseous or anything like that, but you can feel your social battery rapidly depleting in this club setting, and more than anything you'd like to get home to your cats.

Still, you shake your head. "It feels like you just got here, I can't ask you to do that," you say, and Iwaizumi waves you off, already reaching for his jacket on the back of the chair and nodding towards Issei.

"You didn't ask," he says, putting one hand on your elbow again to guide you to the exit. "I offered."

Once you're out on the sidewalk, Iwaizumi offers to get you a taxi, but you tell him you'd been planning on walking since your place isn't terribly far. Iwaizumi nods, then asks which direction you're heading in. As you begin walking, Iwaizumi nudges your shoulder with his elbow, gesturing at you with his bent arm.

You glance up at him, confused for a moment until your eyes widen as you hold onto his arm with one hand. "Wouldn't want you falling again," he says with a chuckle.

Might be too late for that, your traitorous brain supplies.

During the walk back to your building, you resume your conversation from earlier, and he begins to tell you about his high school volleyball career and how he came to be the JNT's athletic trainer. At one point, he says something that makes you laugh unexpectedly, loud and bouncing off the nearby buildings before you can rein it in. You slap your free hand over your mouth to stifle your obnoxious laugh, glancing at Iwaizumi to gauge his reaction, but find him smiling down at the ground as he walks.

You reach the front of your building too soon for your liking. Iwaizumi walks you to the front entrance, letting you cling to his arm as you dig your keys out of your bag.

"Thank you for walking me home, Iwaizumi," you say, looking up at him and jingling your keys in your hand.

"Don't even worry about it," he tells you. "Are you good?" he asks as you let go of his arm, making a show of putting his hands out as if ready to catch you again. You pout, lightly smacking his arm with your fingertips as he laughs.

He's...very close, you realize, as you look up at him from under your lashes. You let your hand rest on his arm again.

"Did you want to come upstairs?" you ask him, so quiet your face heats with the thought of having to repeat yourself. Your hands are shaking, but you hope that your key jingling disguises that.

Iwaizumi blinks, locking eyes with you for one long, tense moment. "I shouldn't," he says, equally quiet. Your heart sinks into your stomach and you step back.

"Right, yeah, that's...of course," you say, continuing to fiddle with your keys as you look down at your shoes.

"But," he continues, and you glance back up at him. "Maybe next time? I still need to hear the end of your story."

Next time?

You nod.

"Sure. Next time."

Iwaizumi takes his phone out of his pocket, tapping it a few times and holding it out to you to enter your number. You send yourself a quick text, your phone pinging in your bag.

"Thank you again for walking me home," you say, handing his phone back and beginning to pick out the key fob that lets you into your building. "Text me when you make it home safely?"

Iwaizumi laughs at that, glancing at his phone screen before pocketing it. "Sure, I will. Good night." He rests a big, calloused hand on your shoulder for a moment, then lets it trail down to your elbow as he begins to walk away. Your eyes follow him down the walkway leading to your building. As he steps onto the sidewalk, he looks back at you one more time and waves before disappearing down the street.

You let yourself into your building, trudging past the elevator that only works half the time, and make your way upstairs. You barely get your shoes off before you flop back onto your bed, your cats already approaching you for an investigatory sniff.

You smack your palm into your forehead, cursing yourself for inviting him to your apartment. There were no signs that he thought of you that way. Not to mention, even though you'd logged a decent number of fantasy hours on him already, he only just met you tonight, and judging by the reaction he seemed to err on the side of old-fashioned. You worry about what he thinks of you, grabbing your phone and texting your group chat.

I'm worried he thinks im a slut now, you text your friends after explaining.

After a moment, you add: in a bad way. like not just in the dirty talk kinda way

You watch the messages from your friends roll in, a mix of reassurances and promises to fight Iwaizumi should the need arise. You're smiling and reading through your messages when a notification appears at the top of your screen.

You switch back over to your group chat, scrolling through all the new messages. Your eyelids drooping, you decide to read them all tomorrow. You plug your phone in, drag yourself to the bathroom to wash your makeup off, and flop back into bed.

Next time.

//end

[difficultdivine]

The Enduring Appeal of the ‘Fake Relationship’ Rom-Com

 Hannah Giorgis     

Aug 20, 2018 

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, the new Netflix adaptation of Jenny Han’s 2014 novel, brings a sweet, teen-focused approach to one of the most beloved hallmarks of the romantic comedy.

The new Netflix romantic comedy To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, an adaptation of the Jenny Han novel, revels in the in-between. Protagonist Lara Jean Covey (Lana Condor) finds herself perpetually stuck in the middle: She’s the biracial daughter of an American father (John Corbett) and a deceased Korean mother; she’s the second of three sisters. She’s not quite awkward enough to be a social outcast at school, but she’s certainly not as cool as her former best friend, Gen (short for Genevieve), whose heartthrob boyfriend Peter Kavinsky (Noah Centineo) is their high school’s “king of the cafeteria.”

But for much of the film’s 99-minute run, the most nebulous territory Lara Jean occupies is the space between “real” and “fake” girlfriend. The central tension of To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before begins when, unbeknownst to Lara Jean, her little sister, Kitty (Anna Cathcart), mails the love letters Lara Jean has written to her five crushes over the years. “My letters are my most secret possessions,” Lara Jean explains early into the film. “There are five total: Kenny from camp, Peter from seventh grade, Lucas from homecoming, John Ambrose from Model UN, and Josh. I write a letter when I have a crush so intense I don’t know what to do.” That Josh is Lara Jean’s older sister’s boyfriend (and later, ex) renders that specific crush most dangerous. When Peter, the first boy to address Lara Jean’s affections after having received his letter, approaches her on the track field, Lara Jean notices the envelope in his hands and faints. She recovers from the fainting spell only to notice Josh rapidly walking toward her carrying a letter of his own. Lara Jean adopts a swift, uncharacteristic course of action: She pins Peter onto the track and kisses him. Later, bumping into her at a café, Peter gently reiterates his disinterest in Lara Jean and tells her that he and Gen are only newly broken up. In the delightfully awkward conversation that ensues, Lara Jean admits to Peter that she kissed him to avoid the discomfort of Josh thinking that she likes him. The revelation sets Peter’s scheme into motion, and he proposes a perfect, fraudulent solution:

“What if we let people think that we were actually together? Just for a little while. And not just [Josh]. I mean everybody.”

“Why would you want that?” “Well for starters, when Gen heard you kissed me, she went nuts, and if she thinks that you and I are a thing, then she’ll wanna get back together.” “Oh, so you wanna use me as your pawn?” “Ah, well, see … technically, you used me as your pawn first when you jumped me.”

The following day, the two formalize their ruse with a contract. It’s a blissfully naive document, one that unsurprisingly renders itself obsolete throughout the course of their publicity stunt, but it’s not without precedent. To All the Boys breathes new life into the “fake relationship” trope, itself a hallmark of the romantic comedy. Through the accidental courtship of Lara Jean and Peter, the film makes the case for the enduring appeal of artifice as a precursor to genuine connection. Their courtship, contrived though it may be, offers glimpses of sincere warmth throughout the movie. That Peter has fallen for Lara Jean by the time their school’s annual ski trip rolls around isn’t surprising to anyone but Lara Jean herself. The fake-relationship trope endures in no small part because of the same factor that makes the rom-com such a satisfying genre: The mystery is not in what the endpoint itself will be, but in how the would-be lovers will get there.

Any romantic comedy that sees its protagonists entering into a contract, formal or otherwise, to feign attraction lets viewers in on a secret: These two silly dopes don’t know what’s coming, but the rest of us do. In watching two people foolishly assume they can stick to the rules and regulations of a relationship designed for non-amorous motives, audiences gain a double satisfaction: Not only do viewers get to see the requisite rom-com happy ending, but they also get to feel smug about it. What’s more alluring than the opportunity to smirk a bit while feeling wholesome joy?

Lara Jean Covey and Peter Kavinsky may be the newest entrants into the category, but the queen of the fake-relationship rom-com is undoubtedly Sandra Bullock. The star of both 1995’s While You Were Sleeping and 2009’s The Proposal, Bullock is a master of evolving from headstrong and affection-avoidant to unexpectedly smitten. In both films, Bullock’s performance is satisfying because it replicates a nearly universal avoidance of the vulnerability that relationships require. Admitting any attraction is difficult, but admitting to another human being that your pulse has grown to match the cadence of their words, glances, and touches can feel like a willful flaying. Therein lies the central trick of the relationship ruse: Establishing guidelines for how to stay uninvested in another human being is such a tempting, if obviously futile, endeavor. Proximity is, after all, a powerful aphrodisiac. If it’s possible to fall in love within the span of 36 questions, how much more enrapturing is the cocoon of a counterfeit union? In classic teen-romance fashion, Lara Jean and Peter’s first serious conversation about the nature of their fake relationship occurs just a quick step away from the athletic facility that served as the site of their second kiss (the first being the result of a spin-the-bottle game in middle school that enraged Gen and emboldened Lara Jean). In full view of the lacrosse field, the two soon-to-be business associates sketch out their plan at Lara Jean’s behest:

“So, first things first, we need to have a contract so we’re on the same page about the rules.” “You got rules? Come on, you really know how to zap the fun out of a situation.”

The appeal of the rules is, of course, their irrelevance. Not a single one of Lara Jean’s declarations stops Peter from falling for her—or Lara Jean from moving out of her comfort zone (somewhere between the world of literature and the world around her). Again, the protagonists are desperately, deliciously wrong. The fake-relationship rom-com, with its unabashed adherence to the classic formula, thrills in part because most viewers are all too familiar with what it feels like to baldly deny feelings for another person even as they become patently obvious to everyone else. To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before may be a teen romance, but Lara Jean’s anxieties about love—that letting people into your life can very easily lead to disappointment should they subsequently walk out—are shared by plenty of adults. And watching Peter slowly fall for her (while respecting Lara Jean’s boundaries, a sticking point that some rom-coms have struggled with) is a welcome contrast to the austerity of the “relationship contract.” As Peter, Centineo is at once bashful and transparent; his voice cracks with enthusiasm, his eyes beam with adoration. The small movements speak volumes. Condor, meanwhile, infuses the ingenue Lara Jean with both wistfulness and gravity; her glances alone convey the depth of Lara Jean’s ill-contained crush on Peter.

It’s thus hard to react with anything but genuine glee as the smitten Peter twirls Lara Jean around in the cafeteria, makes a sojourn all the way across town to get her favorite yogurt drink from the Korean grocery store, and writes her daily notes with an increasing sense of urgency.   None of these acts officially breaks the rules that Lara Jean established for their false union, but that’s the point. Even in the face of self-imposed barriers, love—teenage or otherwise—finds a way to make itself known. To restrict it to the confines of a business agreement in the hopes of suppressing it is to misunderstand the most essential truth about relationships: Love is always a contract. As Peter tells Lara Jean, “You just have to trust.”