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musicarenagh · 11 months ago

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Lexi Lemonade Crafts Musical 'Flavors' With Her Debut Ep Come on, let’s go inside Lexi Lemonade world! Her first EP entitled “Flavors” sounds like a playlist of emotions – love, lost loves, and discovering self. This is especially so since, as she puts it, “Lexi’s from New Jersey, and her sound is this great melange of sounds; everything from cool to smooth, groovy beats to straight up chill R & B vibes.” In fact, Lexy began singing songs, and creating demos from home during her college days. In 2019 she released her first single, “drip” and it is safe to say that there has been no turning back ever since. For instance, her hits on ‘How Could I’ and ‘Flavours’ epitomize her growth and maturity as an artist. It’s hard to say anything about ‘flavors,’ but it is somehow like a love warning. Sweet indeed but with a warning telling you to take care! For that, Lexi’s music is very colorful and depicts different but beautiful representations of true love. She thinks visually and when she does music, it is just painting a vivid fairy tale in her head. This has all been a learning experience for Lexi. She adores artists such as Rihanna, appreciates fashion and photography, and values her family. In a recent interview with Lexi Lemonade, she shared what inspires her daily life, including the musical vibe of her family. By practicing a lot, she learned how to sing and write music and she still learns something new every single day. Gratitude remains at the core of Lexi’s message to her fans. She is so grateful to her, and she has decided to continue this musical journey together with all these people. Lexi is looking forward to wrapping up her current project. She is very willing to work with other artists, and she still desires to mature further as an artist. Her music is how Lexi Lemonade speaks, and she is prepared to continue revealing these ‘Flavors’ to the world. Listen to Flavors EP below https://open.spotify.com/album/3oAhnRGZJmoEjLWPKY3A9v?si=jD1wSvvdQuCX7F6hV04ryA Follow Lexi Lemonade on Twitter Spotify Youtube Instagram What is your stage name Lexi Lemonade Is there a story behind your stage name? lt started as a nickname when I was in high school! I had a slight obsession with the drink Simply Lemonade to the point people started referring me to Lexi Lemonade. It stuck and i decided to use it for my artist name Where do you find inspiration? I find inspiration in every day life and the beauty in it. I know it sounds cliche but sometimes i’ll just be doing something and the music comes to me 🤣. I tend to reflect about experiences that ive had in my life or something im into in the moment and that could be sort of inspiration for my music What was the role of music in the early years of your life? It was my escape from reality lol especially if i was bored. Music always took me to another place in my mind almost like an alternate universe. Also in my school years I played in the marching band, the Alto Saxophone and was apart of my school(s) choir for about 7 years. Music was always in my life from a very young age. Are you from a musical or artistic family? My Dad I would say is the start of it all! Hes so naturally gifted. Hes always singing and self taught musician. He taught himself how to play drums, guitar, and piano. From the day I could Talk he would teach me how to sing and we would do karaoke together. As I got older my brothers got into music. One is still currently doing music in such an innovative way and i love it. You can find him @RoofsbyDon on Spotify and instagram! Who inspired you to be a part of the music industry? My dear friend from my early college years . We were actually co-workers but had such similar interests. Honestly i think everyone was so artistic in their own way it really inspired me to follow my dream and just go for it no matter what anyone thought. It was something that i feel like i loved and dreamed of secretly because im naturally shy How did you learn to sing/write/to play?

Really just through practice and from what i learned in school and with my dad. I feel like im still learning everyday. Theres always room For growth. What was the first concert that you ever went to and who did you see perform? My first concert ever was an Alicia Keys concert . I loved it, i had to be in like elementary school or something still lol but i remember my mom buying me my first trench with some boots. I really felt like a star that night 🤣 How could you describe your music? I feel like it sounds ethereal and airy but also a little off center. Its unique and I feel like its what makes me, me! It really just takes you into another world. [caption id="attachment_53265" align="alignnone" width="1290"] Its unique and I feel like its what makes me, me! It really just takes you into another world[/caption] Describe your creative process. Im a visual person when im creating so i go off the feeling whatever im making gives and i envision the colors and the story behind whatever it is im making. I can guarantee i already see a whole movie in my mind when im done. I like to make a demo production first that i write to and then i take it to the studio where the magic happens What musician do you admire most and why? I have more than one but I would have to say most recent is Rihanna before she went on her break 🤣 I went to her LOUD concert and was just in awe! I loved her energy on the stage it really felt like we were literally just partying together. She has a great way of showing emotion in her songs and also I feel like her personality shines through. Nothing about it ever feels inauthentic and I admire how shes able to incorporate the fashion, and her business endeavors in her career. Did your style evolve since the beginning of your career? I am still quite early in my career but I am absolutely sure it will evolve. I do embrace change, I tend to get bored quite easily so I enjoy switching things up Who do you see as your main competitor? To be quite honest, it is myself. I just want to continue to get better and hope that my art grows and gets better with time. What are your interests outside of music? Fashion Photography, fashion, and spending time with my kids and family being able to enjoy life to the fullest If it wasn't a music career, what would you be doing? What I’m doing now 🤣 I do have a day job and also a business @SABAAElite that i run with my spouse. i haven’t gotten to the point where im able to fund my life solely off music but i welcome the day it comes What is the biggest problem you have encountered in the journey of music? I guess for right now its just finding my tribe. But im sure that will come with time. If you could change one thing in the music industry, what would it be? I think on a mainstream level just more innovation. I feel like things kind of felt like a standstill for a while everyone following trends what is hot and somewhere along the way some people just lost the art of art 🤣 if you think of all the icons who came before us what made them so iconic was the ability for them to stand out and really just create a lane of their own. Why did you choose this as the title of this project? Flavors. Its a play on my name Lexi Lemonade! Its an analogy for the different sides of me. I am not a one dimensional person. I am a human with different sides to me and different interests. I think its just about embracing all parts of yourself and knowing its ok to not be the same all the time. As time changes we grow and change with it too. https://open.spotify.com/artist/57u4pJ8fyeE5MhQhiylDma?si=IQEAyq0JRnCBGUS-vaAegQ What are your plans for the coming months? I really will be focusing on completing my next project! Im excited to get the ball rolling and really just to build up my catalogue. Ive already written a couple pieces so im excited to hear it manifest in the studio Do you have any artistic collaboration plans I am open to collaboration! What message would you like to give to your fans?

Thank you so much for supporting me and accepting me for who i am :) its really tough decision to put myself out there but really with all the love it is so rewarding. I am excited to continue this journey with you!

#Interviews #FlavorsEP #FlavorsEPbyLexiLemonade #FlavorsEPfromLexiLemonade #FlavorsEPLexiLemonade #LexiLemonade #LexiLemonadedropsFlavorsEP #LexiLemonadeFlavorsEP #LexiLemonadeoutwithFlavorsEP #LexiLemonadereleasesFlavorsEP #LexiLemonadewithFlavorsEP

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kiwanopie · 2 years ago

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Laptop

boyfriend!kiyoomi part IV!

“So… Where’d you two meet?”

Sakusa sighs.

This was exactly the scenario he was trying to avoid. Sitting on the bed adjacent to his longtime teammate and trying to avert his eyes from the way he kicks his feet from under him like an overgrown school boy. His gleeful - prying eyes sear holes in the side of his head from where he’s got his nose pointed at his laptop monitor, and if his hunch should tell him anything; it’s that little Mr. GossipGirl won’t rest until he’s juiced him of all the mushy details.

But the problems not that he doesn’t like talking about you. It’s the opposite actually, he could start and never finish, it’s just…

It’s embarrassing to get all sweet and blushy in front of this honey-eyed fool or any of his teammates. He hates the vulnerability of it all. Fending off a smile and trying to minimize all of these very big, very honest feelings he has about you. And ever since meeting you he’s been very slowly but surely pushing himself away from his previous dispositions.

Aloof old Omi, safely reclusive - inside his little shell, has peeked his head out and fallen in love with the sun.

This guy’s gonna eat that shit up.

Sakusa grazes his finger along the touch pad, tapping it a few times before grumbling curtly. “Can you go to bed already?”

“Not without a bedtime story,” Atsumu chirps. “C’mon. Tell me all about ‘er! I know you want to.”

Sakusa sighs again as he taps in a few loud keys. White orange tinted light turning his skin a filtered fuchsia as the screen flickers. “What are you five? You’re a little too old to be swapping secrets like a grade schooler.”

“Is she a secret though?”

“She’s not.” And that’s a resolute answer if he’s ever heard one.

“Then why won’t you tell me about her?!”

“Because-“ Sakusa blows out an exasperated breath.

There’s a long moment he spends pointing his nose to the hotel ceiling to quietly deliberate. Longer the few seconds he spends clenching and unclenching his jaw as his eyes fall and his pupils twitch in careful thought. He opens his mouth - closes it again but his lips part on their own. Sakusa blows out a breath until his voice comes tumbling after it, and it pains him to know that his fight for composure was fruitless.

“If I tell you, will you shut up and go to bed?”

Atsumu crosses his fingers over his chest. “Hand to God.”

Sakusa stares at him for a while.

“We’ve been… dating for the past couple of years,” Three years and eighteen days of pure bliss. “She was one of my sister's students so we met through her.”

The uncut version is that Sakusa stormed his sister’s office before her lecture could fully clear to bitch about her saddling him with mom on his only days off. Had to have looked mad as a snake when he walked in there, face twisted up and everything.

And obviously a 6’4 Olympian isn’t what your average college student expects to run into during their four o’clock lecture, especially when he’s calling out to their professor like he’s got a loaded gun in his hand. But you were too busy filling in your last minute notes to care about him or whatever he was doing at the time.

Sakusa sees you but he doesn’t see you. He just knows you’re the only person in this room and there’s a wicked witch on the loose. “Have you seen Kyouka?”

You hum. “Sakusa-san?”

“Obviously.”

Your eyes are the first thing he notices when you raise your head. They’re doey and soft and disarming. You’ve got that kind of look to you that reminds him of a love song; one of those old school radio ones that you hear in the car on the way to work but it’s stuck in your head throughout the day and you can’t stop singing it under your breath.

“You look like someone shit in your laptop and closed it.” You say.

The tendons in his jaw stress as you point your extended arm toward the door. “She’s in Nabuya’s lecture down the hall but, I don’t think she’s gonna talk to you with your face all twisted up like that.”

Sakusa quietly nods before turning his heel for the door.

It took two whole months of silently pining and bringing his sister pickled daikon for lunch to finally get you to agree to go out with him, and since then he’s been living on cloud nine.

“Oh-Ho!,” Atsumu grins. “And did charmin’ ol Omi put the work on her? ‘That it?”

He didn’t anticipate how dry the air would be on your first date so he wound up with a nosebleed that geysered for like a solid five minutes. “Yeah…”

“A’right, a’right, So… How is it that I’m just hearin’ about her now? I mean, from that phone call-“

“Let’s not talk about the phone call.”

Atsumu titters. And he seems genuinely happy to see his friend all settled down and loving someone so earnestly. He knows how difficult relationships can be for a high maintenance guy like him, and it’s refreshing to see his edges softened a little. He kicks his feet until he’s pressed against the headboard adjacent to Sakusa, smiling at him from across the way as he cradles a pillow against his chest.

“You should know that you’re safe to talk about yer personal life with us, Omi. It’s not like we were gonna tease ya too much about it.”

Sakusa blows out a short breath through his nose. “I know that. It’s just-…”

The way Sakusa softens up is quite honestly enough to make him start to blush. “____’s really special to me. So, I guess it’s hard to bring her up without getting touchy about feedback.”

Atsumu throws his head back a little. “Well, it’s flatterin’ that you’re bein’ so honest about it with me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He snorts as he rests his head on the headboard with a quiet thump!

And then he furrows.

Atsumu leans in to get a better look at his monitor. “Why ya lookin’ up purses?”

Sakusa hurriedly shuts his laptop.

Physical therapy

#boyfriend!kiyoomi #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#sakusa kiyoomi x reader #hq sakusa #bnha x reader #hq x reader #hq fluff #hq #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa fluff #sakusa x reader

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sad-brunnettee · 2 years ago

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omg hii i jst discovered your blog and i am absolutely in love with you eddie x reader especially since it’s a hispanic reader :(( it feels so nice and srsly as a mexican it makes me so happy !! ive had this hc stuck in my brain that Eddie wouldve loved spanish rock !! so may i ask for a eddie munson x hispanic! reader where reader gets hombres g lastest album “La Cagaste ,,, Burt Lancaster” and they jst run over to eddies all excited and immediately head to his room to play it in his record player . he’s like “what is that !?!,!.” to which reader replies “it’s hombres g duh have you never heard them” and he’s like utterly confused bc he only listens to his rock obviously so reader plays it for him and makes him listen to it and by the end he and reader are jst jamming out to songs w reader singing some lyrics like to “Te Quiero” or “Marta Tiene un Marcapasos” w eddie asking for more spanish rock songs bc he absolutely fell in love w it <3 this is my first time requesting ahhh JDJAJJS SRSLY I LOVE YOUR BLOG 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Hi cutie 😽, I’m happy to hear that you like them. thanks so much for requesting!! I also think that he would’ve really enjoyed it. <3

A/n: I’m going to be honest I don’t think I’ve ever heard their music so I really hope I made some justice to your request 🤞🏼

Eddie Munson x Gn Hispanic! reader

—

You had just gotten your hands on Hombres g new album. It wasn’t easy to get it since not many people listen to their music but you were glad that you found it.

Whenever you get a new album you always run to your room and listen to it at full blast. Having it on repeat until you finally memorize the lyrics. Not this time, no, you decided to drive to Eddie’s trailer

During your drive you had to stop yourself from getting a quick peek at the album songs. In order to stop yourself, you softly drummed your fingers on the steering wheel while trying to think of something else.

Aside from being together with Eddie for a while now, yet you never got the chance to share your favorite songs with him. Even though you also listen to rock music, you weren’t sure if he would be a big fan of Spanish rock music.

As soon as his trailer came to view, you parked your car carelessly. Grabbing the album you got out of the car and locked it. You took long strides towards his door, once you stood in front of it you lifted up your hand to knock.

You heard some footsteps approaching and as they gradually got closer, you were bouncing on your feet with excitement.

Once Eddie opened the door you squeezed your way through to get to his room. He was confused and cautiously walked behind you. As he did that, he kept on wondering if he did anything to get you mad. Since you didn’t even greet him, just stormed past him. At least that’s what he interpreted as.

“Is everything ok…” He asked as he finally reached his bedroom.

Instead of answering, you got the record out and inserted it on his record player.

Within a few seconds the music began to play causing Eddie to give you a questioning look. He still wasn’t sure what you were doing.

Stepping back you handed Eddie the album to show him what you were listening to.

Eddie grabbed it with a look of confusion he wasn’t sure how to pronounce the name that was written on the front.

You walked over to the edge of his bed and took a sit. You patted the space next to you so he could take a sit as well. He walked slowly towards you and sat down before looking up at you.

“What is this?” He asked. It wasn’t in a rude way but more of curiosity.

“It’s hombres g, duh. Have you never heard of them?” You asked.

“Mmm no, I’m afraid I’m not familiar with their work.” He answered truthfully.

You let out a gasp, you thought that maybe someone might’ve mentioned them before. Yet you were proven wrong. You got up and raise the volume, not too loud. Just loud enough for the both of you to hear.

As the music played you kept on moving your body to the rhythm. From the corner of your eye you could see how Eddie was bopping his head.

Once the album finished played you turned to face him with a bright smile

“So, what did you think?” You asked

“I think it was the most amazing thing I have ever heard. Drastic change from Iron Maiden and… you know my type of music.” He spoke slowly while flickering his gaze around his room to show you what he meant. “Could we, listen to it again?” He asked rather sheepishly.

You didn’t say anything just let out a squeal as you stood up to put the music once more. Once that was done, you went back to sitting next to him and you’re not sure how but you felt your body fill itself with more excitement as before.

When the song Te quiero started playing, you felt yourself getting familiarized to the song. You started off by mumbling the lyrics before gradually signing them loudly.

Even if you weren’t the best singer, Eddie would do anything just to hear you sing forever. In his eyes, there wasn’t anything that you could do wrong.

He let out a heartfelt laugh, you looked over at him with a smile while still singing. He mustered enough courage to try and sing along with you. At least the words that he learned from those years he had to repeat his Spanish class.

His pronunciation wasn’t the best but it brought you so much joy seeing that he was trying his best for you. Although he didn’t need to, he always made you happy no matter what.

That may be the reason why you singed the chorus a bit louder than the rest of the song. You’re not sure how much Eddie was able to understand but you could see in his eyes the affection they held whenever he sang the words ‘te quiero’.

When the album finished, once more, you and Eddie were now laying on his bed. Even if the only thing the two of you did was sing, it drained you both to a certain extent. Just as the two of you caught your breath, Eddie stood up and said:

“Hombres g… I might need to buy my own albums. Tell me, do you have more I could listen to?”

🏷: @hellomyweirdos @lubsana @satsuri3su @n39ro-chann @kenzi-woycehoski

#sad-brunnettee #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gender neutral reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #Eddie Munson x Hispanic! reader #request

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wkemeup · 5 years ago

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Heal Me, Baby

summary: Bucky Barnes can’t seem to keep away from your med tent no matter how many times you fix him up. // challenge prompt: bed sharing pairing: 1940s bucky x reader word count: 5k warnings: a very charming bucky 😉 a/n: This was written for @cake-writes 1940s challenge! Congrats on the 3.5 milestone!! The title of this fic comes from the song Heal Me by Snow Patrol

There was blood on the white of your dress; slow and steady seeping into the fabric and staining the cotton blend fibers. Red and as deep and bold as the cross sewn into the chest of your uniform, the blood became part of the design because no matter how many times you scrubbed it clean, more would find its way back to the hip of your skirt, the sleeve of your shoulder, the hem of your apron by morning’s end. Sometimes you wondered why they’d bothered dressing you in white at all. Might as well make it red with the number of wounded soldiers they dragged through your tent; most halfway towards the shiny bright light and others inches away from their last breath.

The chaos was constant, a given, and despite the noise and clutter, it was where you felt most at home. It was better than the lull, the calm before the inevitable storm, where you’d be swarmed with men on stretchers, bleeding out onto the dirt and tossed into overcrowded beds. The steady stream was easier than the rapids, easier than assigning ten men to a single nurse where injuries could be missed, vital tears overlooked.

You were at the end of your shift for the night, dirt on your forehead, sweat damping the carefully curled ringlets at your neck. A file in your hand of the man at the end of the room, thicker than most, and you kept your eyes down as you pushed your way through the crowd of nurses and visiting soldiers, heels sinking slightly into the grass with every step.

When you came upon him, you finally noticed the name etched into the top right corner of the folder; the cheesy grin as he propped himself up on his elbows, blood and dirt coating most of his face, though still as annoying handsome as ever.

“Hiya, doll.”

“Oh, not you again.”

Bucky chuckled to himself as he plopped back down against the pillow, hands clasping behind his neck as he watched you work around his bedside. You huffed the hairs from your eyes, brushed the sweat from your hands as you slipped on a pair of gloves, careful to avoid the urge to smile at the way Bucky was so obviously studying your every move.

You’d seen him about a dozen times since you’d been transferred to the Italian warfront along with the 107th. He’d found a habit of stumbling into the medical tent after a night in the trenches, covered head to toe in what looked to be a dried mixture of mud and blood that didn’t always turn out to be his own.

He’d flash that smile of his like he couldn’t smell the retch of sweat and grim on his skin, sweet talk you like he wasn’t thrown head first to the middle of a war he didn’t sign up for, and get your stomach twisted all up in knots, hands fumbling with the IV bag, a nervous flutter in your chest – though you’d never let him see that.

Sergeant Bucky Barnes was the kind of man the nurses talked about when he walked by. A tip of his cap, a slight salute in their direction, and they’d giggle themselves into a mess, clinging onto one another as they waved at him.

But then, across the courtyard, his eyes would catch yours, a softer tone about him and he’d simply wink, something subtle and barely noticeable, but enough for it to be personal, almost intimate, because it wasn’t for others to see.

“Not happy to see me, huh?” Bucky drawled, crossing his ankles as he stretched back on the worn-down cot like he was sitting at home on the couch, waiting on a beer as he read the evening paper.

You pursed your lips, shooting him a narrowed look as you glanced over the intake file. “I’m never happy to see men in this tent, Sergeant Barnes. Did you forget where you are?”

You gestured down to the series of beds filled with men, some waiting as they hung off the edge of crutches or slumped over in chairs, with bandages wrapped around exposed chests, blood seeping through, broken limbs exposed, the quiet whimpers of pain muffled by forearms and pillows.

“Oh, come on, doll. You know I’m just teasing ya,” Bucky smirked, sitting up in the bed because he knew the routine well enough by this point.

You held a single finger pointed up in front of his eyes and he followed it without instruction as you moved it across his line of sight. No sign of abnormal dilation. Ruled out a concussion, at least.

“You should be more careful out there,” you warned, gathering the first aid kit from the bedside table. “You’re in here almost every day, you know.”

“Maybe I like the company,” he shrugged, blue eyes piercing straight through you and you tried to ignore the way your heart skipped a full beat.

Your hands trembled slightly as you cleaned the wound on his forehead, a hit from a fall by the looks of it, though it wasn’t deep enough to require stitches. He winced a little, a slight hiss in his tongue as you applied the alcohol.

“You shouldn’t be taking the bed from someone who needs it.”

“Hell, I do need it, doll,” Bucky whined, a little dramatically. “Look at me. I’m in pieces. I’m fallin’ apart at the seams and you’re the only one that can save me, sweetheart. I need ya.”

You paused with a tight pout of your lips, sitting back on the cot beside him long enough to roll your eyes. “You need a band-aid and stern warning, Sergeant Barnes. You’re fine.”

“Oh, call me Bucky, won’t you?”

You pressed the bandage to his forehead, a little firmer that you would have for most any other patient and he grunted under his breath, trying to steady himself against the thin mattress.

“Time for you to go, Sergeant Barnes.”

Bucky grinned, nodding to himself as he stood. “Been a pleasure, doll, as always. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“You better not!” you called back, arms folded over your chest as he snickered to himself, walking through the mess of chaos to the exit on the other end. He glanced back over his shoulder as he pulled up a flap of canvas and winked at you.

You clenched your jaw and got back to work.

***

Sure enough as the tides rolled in, so did Bucky Barnes to your med tent a few nights later.

You found him waiting for you on the last bed in the aisle, one leg tucked under him, the other hung over the side of the cot as he nursed his right hand in his lap. He was humming to himself through pursed lips, a tune that you recognized from the radio station your father often played back home; head bouncing a bit to the rhythm, massaging gently at the palm of his hand, completely unfazed by the chaos around him.

Stepping up to the edge of the bed, you supposed he caught sight of your shoes because he started to smile before he so much as lifted his head.

Slowly, like he was taking his time, he glanced up at you with that sheepish smile of his, a light chuckle under his breath, and he ran his left hand through the mess of hair atop his head.

“Hiya, doll.”

“What is it this time?”

Your arms were folded, toe tapping against the ground, but there was something in the way he couldn’t stop smiling at you, even as you scolded him, that tugged a bit on the tight strains in your chest. It pushed at the walls you’d built, poked at the cement layers between bricks until they started to fall one by one and you fought against the urge to smile back at him.

He was too sweet on you, too handsome and charming, and you were almost certain it was an act, so you clenched your jaw and forced a frown.

Bucky held up his hand and for you, showing off a rather nasty burn in the underside of his palm, just along his thumb; red and seared, bubbling a bit on the edges. Your resolve took a bit of a hit because he winced a little in the motion, like the chill of the air was enough to cause him pain.

“How did you manage to do that?” you asked, tone still a little tense, though you took a seat on the side of his mattress, the lumps of the worn-down cot pressing against your thighs.

You reached for the medical cart near the bedside table, though it was just an inch from reach, and Bucky took the liberty of wheeling it over for you. You paused, watching him as he casually slid the cart in front of you, careful of your shoes and the dips in the ground.

“It was my shift in the kitchens,” he shrugged.

His hand slipped into yours as you gestured for it; rough and calloused though still untouched in places, soft and tender. You wondered what he did before he was drafted, if he worked in factories or in a garage, if his hands had seen hard labor before he was handled a weapon and a battalion, or if they were a blank page, yet to be filled by the scars and abrasive markings of a man at war.

You turned it over gently, easing the back of his hand to sit cradled in your palm as you examined the burn. It looked like he’d singed it on the side of the stove. The ring of the plate visible on the edge of his palm.

“Didn’t think you were required take shifts in the kitchens, Sergeant,” you commented, raising an eyebrow, though you kept your focus on his hand.

“Helps with morale,” Bucky replied simply. “Doing the same grunt work together does something for when we’re out in the trenches, you know? I’m not any better than them because the higher-ups threw some title in front of my name. We’re all stuck here, aren’t we?”

There was a chuckle in his voice, a lightness, and it surprised you as you looked up to see that it didn’t quite touch his eyes. How often did that happen and you didn’t notice because you were so caught up in holding up walls to keep from his games? How often had it not been a game at all and rather a mask he wore, to protect the most vulnerable parts of himself from giving into the horrors he saw on the front lines?

He took a deep breath, focused on the grip of your hand around his as you slowly started to apply aloe along the burn. Cautious eyes glancing up to him, you watched as his shoulders slumped a little, a weight lifting from the tension he carried as the cooling of the gel started to take effect. The hardened lines on his face softened, his breaths coming in a bit steadier, the sigh that left his lips light and sweet.

“I’m sure they appreciate what you do for them,” you said, softer this time, in hopes of distracting yourself from the way his lips parted ever so slightly in relief the longer you soothed the gel along his hand.

“Eh, keeps me busy,” he said, brushing it off, almost like the praise was uncomfortable for him, like it didn’t feel warranted or necessary. He smiled to himself, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as you started to wrap his hand, gentle touches delicately easing the bandage around the burn. “Brought me back to you, didn’t it? I call that a win.”

You laughed a bit at that despite yourself as you clipped the edges of the bandages and secured it properly. “I’m sure you would have found an excuse to come bother me all on your own, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Bucky,” he reminded you again, grinning so wide it must have hurt.

“I don’t want to see you in this tent for at least a week,” you warned, placing his hand back into his own lap. You stood, brushing the wrinkles from the edges of your dress. Though you were stern with him, you were smiling. He certainly took notice of it.

“That’s a lot to ask of me, sweetheart. I’m a clumsy guy.”

“You’re the best sharpshooter we have!”

“I’m a mess, honey. Look at me! You’re my only hope.”

“Oh, get out of here!” you laughed, pushing on his shoulders though you were met with significant resistance; a playful game of cat and mouse, and damn if you weren’t completely falling for it.

He finally gave in when your laughter started to draw the attention of the nurses gathered around the bedsides of injured soldiers, and you swatted him on the shoulder, heat flushing to your cheeks in embarrassment, though you were unsuccessfully biting back a smile.

As he made his way to the exit, he turned back for a final look, surprised to find you still watching him, and he winked; cool and collected, confident. You shook your head at him, arms folded over your chest, but he saw the way the corners of your lips pushed up high into your cheeks, the brightness in your eyes, the whisper of a laugh still in your breath.

If this was all a game, he was certainly winning.

***

A few weeks later and the nurses had resorted to reserving a spot for Bucky in the back of the tent; the same cot in your assigned row because he all out refused to be seen by anyone else. He’d duck through the canvas flaps at the entrance, smile politely at the nurses and wait patiently for you to notice him.

His injuries varied anywhere from a paper cut along his palm to a splitting headache to simple heartburn. He knew better than to take your attention away from soldiers who really needed it, but he’d come to consume the moments in between, whether you liked it or not.

But a funny thing started to happen.

You started to look forward to the days when he’d peep his head into the tent, checking to make sure you were on shift before he’d saunter his way inside and take his seat on his favorite cot. You’d find disappointment burning like jealousy in your chest on the days he didn’t, and your mind would wonder where he was or if he was alright.

He’d once waited hours before you were able to step away from the gunshot wounds of a soldier two beds down and though the scrape on his knee had all but scabbed over by then, he stuck around until the kid stabilized.

You were exhausted by the time you made it over to Bucky, losing hope that you’d be able to keep the injured soldier alive through the night and trying to mask the utter helplessness you felt.

But Bucky made his light-hearted jokes, he teased you for the dirt on your forehead, whined and complained dramatically about his knee though you both knew he’d sleep it off my morning, and it brought back a smile to your face before you realized it. He managed to push through even the darkest parts of your days.

***

Bucky’s regiment was out on assignment for over a week and you would have been lying to yourself if you said you didn’t miss him. You found yourself glancing down at the entrance every few minutes, feeling like something was missing when you finished your checklist, stabilized your patients, and finally had a free moment for yourself. There was something else you would have been attending to.

It wasn’t until you realized it was Bucky you were searching for, waiting to see his smile light up at he caught your eye, that it hit you just how easily you’d fallen for him.

At the end of a very long week, he stumbled into the med tent on a rolled ankle, leaning off the shoulder of Captain America himself, complaining of a pain in his left arm. You were relieved to see him, like a weight lifted from your chest that was holding you underwater for days, but you couldn’t let him see that.

“Been a while, honey,” he smirked. “Miss me?”

“Watch yourself, Barnes,” you warned, though it was light and airy. You eased his arm over your shoulders and excused Steve as he was still supporting his weight. You tried not to focus on how nice it felt to have Bucky this close, his arm draped over your shoulders, his side pressed up tight to yours as he hobbled in support of his injured ankle.

“Got real lonely out there on the front without you,” Bucky teased as you helped him down to the cot. “Stevie had to fix me up. Wasn’t pretty.”

“I can see that,” you laughed, gesturing to the mess of bandages circling around his arm. “What did you do? Bump into the corner of the tank?”

“Not exactly,” he chuckled awkwardly, pulling his arm from what remained of his sleeve to give you better coverage. He curled his shirt up in his hands, shivering as the cold touched exposed skin and you tried to ignore the taunt lines of his muscles and the placement of freckles down his back, the shadows over his abdomen.

Slowly, you pulled back the bandages, wrapped about a dozen times over, until red started to appear in the white of the cloth, soaking through the layers thicker and darker until you found the source. Your smile had long fallen by the time you saw the wound on his arm, a bullet grazing on the outer stretch of muscle; ripped and raw on the edges, a piece of your heart torn along with it.

“You were shot?”

“Oh, come on, doll, it ain’t so bad,” Bucky chuckled. “It’s just a little graze.”

You shook your head, quickly tending to the open wound with alcohol swipes that left him hissing from the sting of it. Your hands were shaking slightly, but you held your breath in hopes he wouldn’t notice.

“Why is it that you feel the need to come in here with senseless injuries and waste my time but when you're actually hurt, you brush it off like it’s nothing?”

You weren’t angry despite the tone of your voice. No, it was fear that took over, marred through the tension of your words and the frantic thumping inside your chest. The idea of him never walking into your tent again ripped the heart straight from you.

“We’re at war, honey,” Bucky replied gently and though he still wore that beautiful smile on his face, it was softer. “This kind of stuff happens all the time.”

“Not to you,” you whispered, voice low and heavy.

Your fingers were trembling as you attempted to thread the needle for the third time, though it was no use. It kept missing the eye, your hand was shaking too much for a steady grip. You couldn’t protect him when he was out in the trenches, couldn’t heal his wounds and tend to his injuries. You couldn’t save him if something happened out there, leaving him stranded.

A few inches to the right and the bullet could have torn through a major artery and maybe Steve Rogers would have showed up in your tent with his helmet held at his chest and a solemn look in his eye when he told you that Bucky fought valiantly until his last breath.

The thread missed the needle again and you let out a groan, a wave of frustration and anger and fear and suddenly Bucky’s hands were on yours, slowly lowering them back to your lap. He smiled sweetly at you as he gently took the needle and thread from your hands and slipped it through the eye. He knotted it at the end and handed it back to you, adjusting his position on the cot to give you better leverage.

“I should get someone else to do this,” you said quietly.

“No deal, honey. You’re the only one for me.”

“Bucky, my hands are shaking. I should ask one of the girls to--”

“It’s you or I walk.”

Bucky smirked, winking at you over his shoulder before he settled in again. Determined and stubborn as you’d ever seen him.

You sighed, pushing out a deep breath as you steadied your hand. “Okay, well, no complaining if you end up with a scar.”

“Me? Never.”

***

Bucky wasn’t the only soldier in the tent that night and you were worn thin; running on startling lack of caffeine and frequent cold bursts of air outside, you hadn’t slept in nearly two days as you attended to the influx of injured men.

Half of your girls were out sick from the bug that was floating around camp, though you were almost certain it wasn’t airborne as they insisted and they’d contracted it by getting cozy with the soldiers. You couldn’t blame them for seeking comfort amongst the harsh conditions of the war, but being down two girls in an overcrowded, busy tent full of men in terrible pain wasn’t easy to manage on your own.

Bucky’s presence seemed to help, though. He’d smile at you whenever you looked in his direction and you started to wonder if he was watching you as you worked, as opposed to the book in his lap. He always seemed to be looking at you when you turned over your shoulder to check in on him, anyway. The pages of the book sitting in his hand remained unturned for too long, even as he fought against the heaviness of his lids, sleeping threatening to pull him under though he resisted.

He gave in after you’d swiped the book from his hands and ordered him to close his eyes.

“Anything for you, doll,” he said, yawning through every syllable.

You watched as he settled into the sheets, bare chest exposed and the heavy bandage wrapped around his arm. His eyes fluttered shut, nose scrunching as he sniffled in a tight breath, and his whole body seemed to relax, finding sleep rather quickly.

It was nearly two in the morning by the time the med tent quieted down.

Most of the men were asleep, the others too doped up on pain medications to notice much of anything going on around them, their eyes softly gazing out ahead of them, heavy eyelids falling shut. You let the remaining girls go back to their own tents until dawn, given that the worst of it all had subsided.

With a tired yawn, you dragged your feet down to Bucky’s bed. He was snoring softly in his sleep, lips parted just slightly, and you realized gazing down at him, that he looked years younger like this; the innocence he often masked amongst the perils of war rising fresh to the surface, unobstructed.

With a cautious hand, you reached out and grazed your fingertips along his arm; his whole body sighing in response, a slight curve of his lips, his head lulling to the side closest to the touch.

But you couldn’t stand there and watch him sleep all night. The bandage had started to bleed through and it needed a rewrapping.

You pulled up a chair next to his cot, carefully beginning to unwrap the cloth from around the tight muscle of his arm. Smooth skin under pebbled goosebumps from the chill outside, you gently released the bandage to the mattress. The wound didn’t look so bad underneath, but you cleaned it up a bit to be safe. With a quick dab to his arm with the disinfectant, you glanced up at his face in search of a hitch in his breath or a hiss on his tongue, but he remained fast asleep.

Even men like Bucky Barnes needed a break. He looked so sweet sleeping like that, the slight pout on his lips as you cleaned the wound, the sniffle through the beginnings of a head cold.

You yawned, struggling to keep your eyes open and quickly rebandaged his arm. There were more men in this tent that needed your attention.

A few beds down and an hour later, you began to switch out the IV drip of a man with a severed leg; a young, baby faced kid who didn’t look old enough to graduate school, let alone be given a gun in the middle of wartime. He scrunched his nose in his sleep, his thigh twitching like he might still think something was there. There was sweat beading on his face, dripping damp into the pillow. You didn’t know how much longer he had.

Your legs wobbled slightly under you and you gripped onto the bedside table. The exhaustion was starting to reel you in, pull you under to the warm embrace of sleep, but you had a job to do, men to care for. Pressing the heel of your palms to your eyes, you tried to push the tiredness from you, though a yawn broke through again anyway.

“Looking like you might need some rest, doll.”

You froze at the sound of his voice, like ice and fire, relief and panic.

A heavy sigh sat in your chest before you turned around, only to find Bucky brushing at his eyes, sleepily smiling up at you from his cot. He propped himself him on his elbows, as you quickly made yourself busy, simply watching as you continued about your work.

“Someone has to attend to these men, Bucky,” you replied, a little tenser than you usually were with him, but the exhaustion had taken hold of you and it took effort just to keep your eyes open.

“Doll,” he called, softer this time, “you’re going to pass out. Where'd everyone go?”

“Sent them off. No need for a crowd to watch over sleeping men.” You checked the vitals of a man across the aisle from Bucky; steady rhythm, even pulse. He’d make it until morning, at least.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked slowly and you could feel his eyes following you around the tent, watching intently as you tended to each of the men, assuring yourself that they were as restful as they appeared. There was a concern in his voice, a sincerity, and it tensed in your shoulders.

You released a heavy breath, keeping focused on replenishing the infusion bag of a soldier who was hanging on by a thread. One quick glance back at Bucky proved to be a mistake as he was still watching you, though it was under kind, worried eyes. He was still waiting on an answer.

“You don’t need to be worrying about how much I’m sleeping,” you said, turning your back to him because your eyes were falling heavy and it was near impossible to keep them open. You leaned onto the frame of another soldier’s bed for support, pretending to be busy for Bucky’s sake.

“No?” Bucky questioned with an embellished sigh. “Someone has to, don't you think?”

“Bucky, I’m fine,” you yawned, covering your mouth with your wrist as you turned back to face him.

He chuckled a bit under his breath, chin falling to his chest, before he smiled up at you like you’d missed out on some kind of inside joke.

“Oh, ‘course you are, doll. Must have been someone else who put the same bloody bandage back on my arm after cleaning it then, huh?” he shrugged teasingly, gesturing to his arm where a dark red bandage circled around his bicep.

Your eyes blew wide, a gasp in your throat and you rushed over to him. Hands fumbling for the chair, missing several times and resorting to falling at your knees, you made quick work of trying to peel away the red bindings.

“Shit! Shit, I’m-- shit,” you panted, shaking, “that’s never happened before and I—oh God, I’m so sorry, Bucky—I’ll fix it, just—just give me a second and—”

“Hey, hey, it’s alright, honey,” Bucky cooed sweetly, helping to unfasten the bandage because your hands were fumbling too long with the clasps. His right hand encased your shaking fingers, holding them tightly long enough to pull your attention away from his arm. “It happens, okay? No harm done. I’m aces, alright?”

“No, no, it’s wildly...” you sucked in a sharp breath, tingling in the back of your jaw, stretching at your cheeks, “...unacceptable and I...” another yawn broke through, “...should report myself because...” and a third.

“Jesus, doll, listen to you. You’re exhausted,” Bucky eased, reaching for the clean bandages on the bedside table. He grabbed a fresh one and put one end between his teeth for leverage as he began to wrap his own arm.

You sat back on your heels, kneeling next to his bed and certainly getting dirt along the end of your dress. You watched as he wove the clean cloth in and around his arm, concentration etched into his facial features to mask the slight wince of pain as the fabric touched the wound.

Guilt was fresh in your chest as Bucky wrapped his arm himself, pulled it tight and gestured for you to fasten it. He could have done it himself, you were sure. There was a smile on his face as he looked at you, like he was trying to make you feel better.

“I’m sorry, Bucky. It won’t happen again,” you mumbled, defeated and you rose to your feet, beginning to walk away.

“Wait, honey, don’t go--”

You froze, surprised by a sudden grip at your hand before you could take a step away from his bedside, and when your eyes shot back to his, he let go immediately, his cheeks flushing red as he began to laugh nervously. It was a kind of embarrassment you never expected to see in him.

“You don’t gotta apologize to me, doll,” he started, scratching at the back of his head.

“I can’t afford to make mistakes,” you retorted, voice a little more somber. “You can’t afford it either.”

“Then, make it up to me.”

You narrowed your eyes, fighting off the urge to yawn again. “What would you have me do?”

“Get some rest?” he asked sheepishly, scooting to the far edge of the tiny, twin size cot. He took up most of the space himself and you swore you may have seen him swallow nervously as he pulled down the covers, gesturing to the open space.

“No, I... I can’t,” you said flatly, though your heart was racing.

“You’re going to pass out where you stand and you said yourself you can’t afford to make more mistakes,” he argued gently. “Just a few hours. Then you’ll be good as new. No more dirty bandages.”

“Bucky, I...” you shook your head, stepping back and folding your arms over your chest. “I-- I have to look after these men. I can’t fall asleep. What if something happens?”

“I’ll wake you up,” he responded with a shrug. “I got my hours in. Anyone starts throwing a coughing fit, monitors start going haywire, I’ll let you know. I promise.”

“People will talk,” you whispered, excuses lined up but Bucky didn’t let them break his smile for even a moment.

“No one's around, sweetheart.”

“It’s inappropriate.”

“So is half my guys sleeping with your girls and yet...”

You laughed a bit at that, chewing on the edge of your lip, the rouge long faded of color. A heavy silence passed, a slight sway in your stance as your body fought tirelessly against the urge to close your eyes. Glancing down the rows of cots, it seemed quiet. Not a peep for hours and everyone was stable.

You turned back to Bucky. He was waiting patiently.

“You’ll wake me?”

You didn’t think it was possible for him to smile wider, but – God – it was blinding.

“Cross my heart.”

Stepping out of your shoes, you slowly made your way to the edge of his bed. You stared down at the open space and the slim line of mattress available to you. You must have taken too long because he started shifted a bit more to the edge, to the point where he was nearly falling off.

“Promise I’ll be a complete gentleman,” he chuckled lightly, cheeks pink and rosy. It was damn near impossible to say no to him when he looked at you like that, with a sincerity you hadn’t known since you left the States, draped under ocean blue.

“One hour,” you warned him as you slowly lowered yourself into the cot beside him. It squeaked as you let your weight fall to its uneven springs, the lumps evident against your back, the frame prominent through the thin cushion.

“One hour,” he agreed, giving you space as you rested your head against the pillow if you wanted it, though you heard his breath hitch as you tugged his arm down a little to lean against his shoulder, his right arm curling around your back to keep you steady on the bed.

Laying on your side, curled up next to him, you rested your left arm against his chest, tracing your fingers along the exposed lines of his stomach, the dip at his sternum, the scars littering smooth stretches of beautifully tanned skin. He shivered under your touch, his breath slightly uneven, though he didn’t say anything. His hold on you tightened as he suppressed a gasp under the bite of his teeth, like a reflex, pulling you tighter as his toes curled and his spine lightened.

“This okay?” you asked quietly, voice barely above a whisper and you watched as your breath touched his chest, goosebumps in its wake.

“Perfect, honey,” Bucky replied sweetly, his fingers drawing patterns along your back, tracing along the zipper of your dress and the seams in the shoulders. “Close your eyes, will you?”

A sleep heavy laugh pulled up at your cheeks, resting on his chest, as you let your hand fall flat against his stomach. You nodded, curling up as close against him as you could manage, losing yourself in the gentle waves of his touch along your spine.

“Thank you,” you whispered as your eyes began fluttering shut. You could hear the pulse of his heart beating gently under your ear, the steady rhythm lulling you a warm embrace. The slip of consciousness tugging you kindly to the ease of temporary darkness.

There was a slight touch on your forehead, something warm and sweet, lingering as your breaths became longer, steadier, drawn out and even; the heat of breath to your skin, the slight hum of a content sigh. A kiss as gentle and kind and tender as the man behind it.

Thank you so much for reading! ❤️ If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting me at my ko-fi account ✨

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #cake's 1940s challenge

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some-dr-writings · 4 years ago

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Nagito x depressed, imaginative S/O

· You were a very introverted individual. Preferring to keep to yourself and having very few friends whom most others would consider family should they be in your position. You rarely spoke and avoided the spotlight. Being the center of attention or being with too many others was incredibly draining so you always tried to hide. You were certainly on the extreme side of introversion, in fact, it likely wasn’t even introversion that led you to the point of outright avoiding people at any cost. You found them so noisy and annoying…

· That was likely why you liked Nagito and agreed to date him. He was a walking disaster either summoning incredibly good or bad luck. Many avoided him because of that, so even if there was a brief stint of chaos things soon settled down… Nagito was also kind. He’d quietly watch as you worked on your latest rpg maker game. He’d cook and clean for you letting you hold yourself in your dorm just working away…

· As amazing as Nagito found you, at times he was worried. You always seemed to be somewhere else. Your eyes seemed unfocused, glazed over as if they were that of a porcelain doll’s. You’d never noticed when the school bells rang, and if it wasn’t for him texting you every morning you’d likely never get out of bed. But as the Super High School Level Storyteller you were likely just thinking about new plot lines or character arcs for your characters, maybe composing the perfect theme song or game mechanic. Yet… Something about you just kept nagging away at him. You’d get so frustrated with yourself at times, and he didn’t know why. There was something about you he just couldn’t quite place his finger on.

· It was the dead of winter. Nagito watched as the snow drifted down, swirling around. A rather lovely sight. Pulling his coat just a bit closer he trotted over to your dorm room.

· “The door’s unlocked?” It was open by only a crack… He simply stood there for a moment before hesitantly pushing the door open. Your room was just as cold as the outside so Nagito promptly closed the door upon entering, hoping to trap even his minuscule amount of body heat in the room. “Y/N?” It was absolutely silent, only his own heartbeat and his soft footfalls upon the carpet could he hear. Your room was an absolute mess. Trash, dirty dishes, reference sheets and notes scattered about, quilt and sheets seemingly tossed onto a pile of… something Nagito was too nervous to even take a peak at, clothes uniform and pajama alike in a corner and you, just laying atop the mattress, arms draped over your eyes, a few empty bags of snacks with you along with crumbs. “Y/N.” You didn’t respond… at all… were… were you even breath- Nagito immediately shook his head as if trying to shake away that thought and instead he looked at the floor, puzzling out a path to take that wouldn’t step on anything.

· This wasn’t the first time Nagito had seen your room like this, but… it seemed worse than usual. Nagito couldn’t help but begin to fret as to why he even had come here in the first place. It was common for you to go off the grid for a few days, so completely absorbed in your work, or lost in though planning out a new tale to tell, but… it’d been two weeks without a singe sign of our existence anywhere, you didn’t even send a text telling your friends to not bother you since you were in the creative zone. There was just nothing.

· “Y/N!” Placing his hands on your shoulders he rocked you. “Ugh, what do you want. I’m thinking right now.” Nagito shakily let go of the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “I’m sorry. I just thought I’d check in on you since it’s been a while.” “Okay.” Then you rolled over onto your side. “… Do you know how long it’s been?” “…” “It’s been two weeks si-” Finally it seemed he had garnered your attention. You looked over your shoulder to him. “two weeks?... that can’t be. I… yeah! I just texted you before getting to bed.” He opened his texts and presented the screen to you. You just stared at it before abruptly sitting up. “Two weeks!? But I… Damn it, not again!” You rubbed your temples, seemingly those two weeks hitting you all at once. You groaned, crumpling over yourself… Nagito simply sat beside you, holding you up, rubbing his hands up and down your upper arms to help get some blood moving and warm you up, you were freezing. “Again?” You flinched… then chuckled? “Yes, again. As always! I just can’t bother anymore! I’m tired, I want to sleep, but I can’t sleep. I sleep when I shouldn’t and am awake when I should be sleeping! I want to be passionate and do things but I just can’t! Isn’t that fantastic!? Being absolutely worthless and not being able to do anything!” “Y-Y/N!” “You say you’re garbage but look at me! I’m worse than garbage! At least trash can be made into art, and I… I’m just worthless! I can’t even take care of myself! I rely on you for everything! I can’t even work anymore! All I can do is just hate myself for not doing anything, try to do something, but give up because I’m too exhausted and hate myself again! Isn’t that just fun! An endless cycle of suffering! All I can do is daydream and pretend to be something better, but it’s funny torture, because I know I’ll never improve! Maybe I’d be better… better… fuck… I said too much…”

· You wanted to hide, but even that was too much of a bother. Your whole body just felt so heavy, impossible to move. Even trying to keep your swirling, racing mind steady sent shivers through your body. You…

· …

· Everything was very white and sterile. You were… in a hospital? You were going to look around, but found an IV stuck into your arm, Mikan dashing away, saying something about a doctor, and Nagito, who was asleep, laying his head on the mattress you were on, holding your hand. Soon after Mikan and a doctor showed up to speak with you, shooing Nagito out temporarily. Your body couldn’t take how much strain you were putting on it with eating and drinking so little so when you started having a panic attack, it was too much for your body to take on so suddenly and you had collapsed. It had been a few days since then and you were now in a more stable condition… they were also rather keen on finding out why this happened.

· You just wanted to talk to Nagito.

· When he entered your room he looked so relieved, yet the concern etched into his features was evident. You hated it. So gently he hugged you, nuzzling into your shoulder. “… just stop.” “Stop what?” You felt his grip loosen, and before he could let you hugged his arm, keeping him in place. “Stop caring about me, please.” “I… don’t think I could ever do that, even if I want too.” You held him tighter, feeling the tears percolating in the corners of your eyes. “Nagito… I just keep getting worse and worse. Now with this… it just shows I can’t even keep my head above water. Please just ignore me, I don’t want to be a burden to you. I don’t want to worry you like this, I… I just…” You quickly wiped away those tears that kept trickling out. “I’m sorry…”

· He hugged you tightly. “So warm.” “Huh?” For a moment he simply indulged in being able to hold you again, hear your voice even if it wavered. He was just so glad to see you awake. “It’s alright. You’re here, I’m here. You are amazing and can do anything. And I’ll do anything I can to help you. We can work together and try our best.” “No, I can’t, i… I’ve been dealing with this for so long. Nagito… I’m tired, I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up. It’s just going to get worse and worse and… I’m sorry. I… I should have told you about this, I shouldn’t have dragged you into my mess, I shouldn’t be with you, I’m just going to hurt you. I…”

· Slowly he let go and instead sat beside you. “Do you not want me anymore?” “…” You couldn’t bare to look at him, instead glancing to the wall, clutching the bed sheets. “You said we could work through this, right?” “Yeah.” “… I… I can’t deal with this… how I have no control over my body… how I can’t do anything to satisfaction… how I just can’t be happy anymore… That’s why I daydream. I don’t even do it intentionally anymore, it just happens… Heh, e-even now it’s taking everything I have left to be ‘here’ to even have this conversation or to talk with the doctor before… I… I don’t know how much longer I can force myself to concentrate before I just give out again. but… I can’t work through this, i-if I do, I’ll lose what little I have left, my talent and you. You… y-you adore people who are talented s-so even if I’m magically normal like everyone else, I… I won’t have to day dream, I won’t daydream, then I can’t make games anymore, my daydreaming is where I write so if I change and stop that I won’t be a story teller, I won’t be ‘hopeful’ or an ‘Ultimate’, you won’t love me, but… I… I see now that… I’m toxic like this, I’ll just drag you down with me I-I, I…” You pulled up the sheets, tucking your head under them… You didn’t want him to see you like this, though… seeing how not hopeful you were, how you were just falling deeper and deeper in this despair that has always suffocated you. Maybe he’d finally leave you, that way you’d have one less thing to mess up. All you would have was yourself. You wouldn’t hurt him anymore and he’d leave of his own accord and be happy without you, so he wouldn’t have to worry about his bad luck hurting you like it had done with others… but… what if he blamed himself for this. What if he thought it was his bad luck. Were you hurting him even more than you thought!? Was he blaming himself this whole time!? Is that why he was with you when you woke up, to apologize for his luck!? Were you-

· …

· What was that pressure?

· Though your vision was still clouded you could see Nagito was still by your side, his hand placed atop your arm. He scooched over a little, getting closer to you before cupping your cheeks in his hands, stroking those tears from your puffy red eyes with his thumbs. “I’m a trash boyfriend. Y/N. I love you. Your talent is only a sign of how amazing you are. Look at Hinata, he’s amazing and he’s in the reserve course of all places! And you are like him, amazing. Even right now you’re fighting to be here with me despite how much it hurts. I will love you no matter what happens. If you want help, I’ll search for help with you. You can make it through this, I know you can. You were able to make it this far on your own, weren’t you? You did what you had too, and you’re still here, and… if you’ll still have me, if fearing your hurting me is not too much, I’ll still be here. So… do you want me to stay?”

· It… was a long process. Due to why you ended up in the hospital you were sent to therapy. Despite Nagito’s constant assurances you were still so scared and distanced yourself again, just getting lost in thought. Going to the sessions took all the energy and focus you could muster and you’d end up daydreaming immediately after so Nagito would keep a vigilant eye on you, getting you back home, and making you a healthy meal, even staying with you through the night hoping the presents of another person would lull you to sleep.

· It was difficult every step of the way, but everyday you both kept trying. It was all you could do, and… you had each other. On good days when your mind could be clear for a moment, when you were with Nagito and not in one of your many worlds… you’d make a vow to get better and better so that one day, you could support Nagito just as he had for you now. It was the least you could do for such an amazing person.

#nagito komaeda #nagito x reader #Mod Gundham #danganronpa #danganronpa 2 #danganronpa2 #Super Danganronpa 2 #danganronpa imagine #danganronpa imagines #danganronpa 2 imagine #danganronpa 2 imagines #dr imagine #dr imagines #dr 2 imagine #dr 2 imagines #danganronpa x reader

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duckymcdoorknob · 3 years ago

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BNHA Boys Headcannons:

He Hears You Sing for the First Time.

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

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Katsuki Bakugo:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Izuku Midoriya:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Ejirou Kirishima:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“BUT LISTEN TO THE SONG!” You chimed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shoto Todoroki: (got carried away here too uwu)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you alright, Tamayaki?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#bnha #mha #deku #midoriya #my hero academia #Bakugo #Katsuki #mha Bakugo #bakugou katsuki #mha todoroki #shoto todoroki #todoroki #shouto todoroki #denki x you #denki kaminari #Kaminari #Kirishima #ejirou

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bucksbisexual · 3 years ago

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ever since i heard this one purple kiss girl sing oh my god by gidle ive had it stuck in my head and like....... i just can't believe there's a song from a girl group with lyrics like "she took me to the sky [...] she showed me all the stars" ???????? it's so....... sapphic i just can't wrap my head around the fact that they'd be Allowed to do that

#kpop #purple kiss #(g)idle #i don't understand the rest of the lyrics besides the english ones so maybe it's like.. idk supposed to be abt someone that isn't a s/o #but it's so. In Your Face that it's supposed to be that #according to dawn the mv is also Very Sapphic and i think i watched it when t came out but i literally don't remember doing that #so maybe i will and cry about the blatant queerbaiting they are putting me through

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huearmy · 4 years ago

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The Smell of Truth - VII

Summary: After years being forced to fight in clandestine hybrid ring, Jungkook is now living in shelter, but life remains bad, the place is abusive, and nobody seems to want adopt him. Until one night a pro-hybrid activist group invades the shelter, and a woman in black smelling like truth promises that things will get better, and he decides to follow her wherever she goes.

Pairing: pitbull!Jungkook x human!Reader

Genre: fluff, angst, future smut maybe.

Words: 5784

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: None.

A/N: I know, Y/N and Jungkook eat all the time and spend a lot of time on her car.

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI

"Jungkook, can you help unload the new merch, please?" Jessi said from behind the cashier, where she was talking with a customer.

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Be careful!"

Jungkook dropped what he was doing at the back of the store - cleaning CD shelves and rearranging alphabetically and music genres that customers take out of place - and ran outside by the back exit, where his coworker, another hybrid, was already signing receipt papers in front of a truck. One of the delivery men was already carefully removing some boxes from inside the truck and putting it on the sidewalk.

"What's in the boxes?" He curiously asked.

"These two bigger ones are guitars, they are orders. And those others are smaller instruments, like flutes and harmonicas." The golden retriever with slightly pink hair that he hadn't memorized the name yet said. Was it Ryujin? "Take care, even if the box is light, everything is very fragile."

"Ok." Jungkook stacked the two heavier boxes, as he saw the delivery guy do, and being careful, he went back inside to store it in the warehouse. In one second he was back to pick the others.

It was his first week on his new job, and obviously, it didn't even surprise you, he chose the music shop. The boy has a great ear and an excellent musical taste, besides music proved to be one of the things he likes most in his new life.

The other day you caught him risking singing softly in his room, when he thought you weren't at home, and in order not to make him uncomfortable, you didn't reveal your presence at all, letting him be. He has a beautiful voice. So, the possibility of being able to discover new music and new artists at work and talk to people with the same tastes as him made Jungkook's round eyes shine like the universe.

Up until then, working was fun, and the coworkers were nice. Maybe it was because of the initial excitement, but Jungkook was efficient and learned quickly, so he was praised almost all the time, which made him blush and have an almost permanent smile. The customers usually think it's cute.

"Ah... excuse me."

Jungkook listened to someone calling, he was at the top of a ladder, arranging some instruments on the top shelf, and looked down to see two high school girls.

"Yes?" He asked.

The same girl responded.

"I'm looking for new strings for my guitar. Can you help me?" Her voice shook a little, but at the end of the sentence she smiled confidently.

"Sure!" He went down. "Six strings or twelve strings? Nylon or steel strings?"

The two girls looked to each other in confusion.

"Ah... Six and... steel." It was almost a question.

"Ok. I'll get it for you."

From the cashier, Jessi and Ryujin watched the scene with judgmental eyes. Both of them were free, but it was obvious it wasn't their help that these girls wanted. Who knew Jungkook was going to bring new customers just for being handsome.

"I never saw these two here." Jessi crossed her arms.

"Me neither. Bet she doesn't even have a guitar." Ryujin shrugged.

"I don't care, as long as they buy something." The other shrugged too, leaving to the back of the store.

At this moment Jungkook was coming to the cashier, three packs of guitar strings from three different brands in hand, and speaking the decorated speech they taught him on the first day, followed by the two girls, who were attentively paying attention with heart eyes.

"If you can't or don't know how to put the new strings on the guitar, just bring it here that we put for you... Not we, because I don't know how to put it, but Jessi knows..." Jungkook smiled, and it looked like the girl that didn't talk at all wasn't breathing anymore. He placed the three string options on the counter in front of his coworker, still smiling.

"Are you going to take them all?" Ryujin asked, also with the friendly smile of a good employee.

The girls' eyes widened for a second.

"No." The talkative one replied, perhaps with too much emphasis, and with a quick glance at Jungkook and an embarrassed smile, she added. "Only this one."

Ryujin took the set of strings that the girl chose - the cheapest one - to pass through the barcode reader. After the two paid, Jungkook accompanied them to the exit with a short conversation, implying that the girl should dedicate herself to learning the new instrument and wishing her luck and that she would always return if needing anything. He was happy. Technically this was his first sale ever.

At this moment you pulled over at the other side of the street and jumped off of your SUV. An excited sound left Jungkook's mouth and he beckoned. Remembering to look side to side, you crossed the street, walking straight to him.

"Hey, cutie." You gave him a shiny grin. "I've come to pick you up."

"Hm?" He was surprised, he had walked home by himself everyday since day one, and you didn't say today would be different. "Ok. Want to wait inside till my shift ends?"

You chuckled, looking at your wristwatch.

"Your shift ends in three minutes."

"Really?" His eyes widened, and his hands pulled your arm towards him - consequently you whole - so he could look at the hours too. "Wow. I didn't see the time passing..."

"Go change and pick your things." You bossed, releasing your arm from his hold just to mess up his hair.

He nodded and got back inside, fast stepping to the back of the store. Through the glass in the window you waved to the other two employees, who smiled and waved back. Ryujin seemed torn between running to you to greet you right and giving you love, or staying at her post doing her job, in the end she sent you several different hearts with her hands.

When Jungkook got back, now in his everyday large clothes instead of the shop uniform, you were exactly on the same spot waiting for him, but now with two ice cream cones.

"I was thinking here, you said 'do you want to wait inside bla bla bla...', but like, I'm your boss, JK. If I wanted to pick you up earlier I could. You know?" You said, talking betwing licks on your ice cream.

Jungshook looked at you with a half-open mouth.

"You wouldn't." He stated.

"Why not?" You took his hand to cross the street.

"Isn't that abuse of power or something? I don't think you look like someone who has favorites... Like, you are too pragmatic, too good girl for that."

You looked offended, as if he had slapped you. You entered the car and waited for him to do the same and close the door behind him.

"First of all... The whole town already knows you, know you are my roommate. Everybody already thinks you are a favorite of mine, so no one would be surprised if I pamper you in public, cuz I do it all the time?? Aaaand...!" You aggressively put your seatbelt on."You know very well I'm part of a group considered a terrorist by the government, which automatically takes from me any title similar to good girl."

"The government is dumb. You are a hero, and this absolutely returns your title as a good girl and its variables." He raised a cocky eyebrow at you.

You started the car and turned it off again, looking at him incredulously.

"On one of our first talks, I literally told you about how I got expelled from the only school I attended in my whole life... I only went to college because my parents are rich and know important people." You shrugged at the end.

"That's not true. You are intelligent and had exemplary grades during college, I heard Jackson talking about it ..." He pointed out, before you could question how he knows it." Besides, you were expelled for protecting your family, and that is heroic to me."

"It was actually revenge and pure violence... But I'm dropping this conversation." You started the car again and it started to move just to stop right then at the red light. "Put some music on."

"Ok." Jungkook obliged. "But seriously, Y/N... Why did you get this offended at being called a good girl? Do you want to be a bad girl?"

Your face heated up. One month ago he didn't even know what playing bickering was and now this...

"Shut up!" You yelled.

He gave a loud laugh, losing it with your flustered face, and all you could do was to laugh along with him. ______________________________________________________________________________ Instead of going home, as Jungkook imagined at first, you had different plans for today. You took the road and in forty minutes you were in the neighboring city parking in front of a movie theater - the kind of thing you don’t have in your city because it’s so small. It was Saturday night and you had reason to celebrate.

"Wow, I've never been to the movies before... What are we watching?"

"You can choose." You pointed to the mural of posters and opening times of the movies. "We can also choose where we'll get dinner."

"I want pizza." He bluntly said.

You chuckled. Of course he wants pizza.

You went to buy snacks and let him get the tickets.Waiting for the big bucket of popcorn, you were humming a song that has been stuck in your head all day and drumming your fingers around the candy display case, considering buying a chocolate bar.

"Are we celebrating something? You look really excited today..." Jungkook came back, stopping by your side, looking you up and down, your whole body expression saying happy puppy to him.

You smiled as if he had catched you on something.

"Is just... You ended your first week of work ever... I finally got what I wanted from my job... We are like, both successful, gorgeous, young and free. We deserve to fill our stomachs with buttered popcorn, gummy bears, pizza and coke."

A wide smile spreaded on his beautiful face, cute teeth showing up and making your own smile wide too.

"What did you want from your job?" He picked the bucket of popcorn from the attendant's hands when you didn't notice it. "Thank you."

"I'll tell you later." You dismissed the question with a hand wave. "What movie we gonna see?"

Jungkook pointed to a dark sign with a putrefied hand coming out of a half-open wardrobe, blood dripping from the doorknob.

"A horror movie? Do you want me to scream in public?" You laughed in self-depreciation.

"I never watched one of these. It should be fun. Don't worry, I will hold your hand." Jungkook inflated his chest and indeed held your hand.

You were actually worried about him, not you. It is not your custom to watch horror movies, usually you only watch the ones with the most hype, but you know they can be very violent, and maybe your cute Jungkook still can't deal with it... Instead of voicing your concerns, you decided to pay attention to see if it really was necessary to worry at all. First sign that he was more uncomfortable than he should be, you would leave the theater.

You reciprocated his hol and scoffed.

"I'm holding your hand." _______________________________________________________________ At the end, your concerns weren't necessary. The movie was kind of trashy, besides some jump scares that got you screaming, and some disgusting, gross special effects that made you feel slightly nauseous, the bloody scenes were funnier than violent, drawing some good laughs from Jungkook. Still, he spent the entire movie holding your hand, as he promised. At the pizzeria the two of you ate until you had to open the button on your pants, still laughing at how bad the movie was, and how the couple sitting in a row in front of you were startled by silly things and made everything funnier. Jungkook was radiant, and that was what you wanted.

"A month from now when I get my first payment, we have to come back here. And I'll pay." Jungkook declared. "What reminds me, what would you say about your job?"

"Hm..." You looked around. The place was considerably crowded, normal movement for a Saturday night, your table was a little isolated, but not enough for you to have this conversation here. "My... friends wanted me to work with a guy. And I finally got the opportunity."

At first Jungkook thought of Jimin and Tae, but then the message sinked in. It was a secret organization's thing.

"Let's go?" You got up from your chair.

"Sure." Jungkook's eyes were big with curiosity. He didn't expect you to tell him about such things, but now you were implying the rest would be said in a more private place.

You two got back to the car with the pizza box with what you couldn’t eat whole and a stuffed animal that Jungkook got from a hook machine on the first try. You were feeling tired and sleepy, not in the mood for driving at all - maybe you should teach Jungkook how to drive for moments like that. You didn't put on some music or asked Jungkook to do so as you usually do.

"The organization has been investigating some lawyers, suspected of facilitating illegal hybrid purchases and transfers, and of covering up such crimes. And I basically need to get proof to frame this guy and expose who he works with." Your eyes were glued on the dark road. "Now I'm going to work directly with him."

"He is a lawyer from your firm?"

"Not yet. He is in the process of being the new partner in the firm. I worked hard to be part of the process or to be designated as his assistant." You explained, still too focused on driving. "I just have to do one mission. Whatever you want to call it. The rest is up to the organization. But for that I need to travel, to work in person, for about a week."

Oh." Jungkook looked at his hands.

Until now he hadn't thought about being alone, by himself. But of course at some point it would happen, you can't live exclusively according to him. He's not the only thing in your life, as he feels you are in his. Suddenly a week seemed like an eternity. Suddenly your apartment looked huge.

"Now I need to know what you want to do." You continued, not noticing the change in his mood.

"What do you mean?"

You made a funny face. It was like you were making a lot of effort to talk about it in a serious tone, but he could see the happy puppy in you again, and it made him relax a little bit, even though he didn't understand why.

"I thought of taking you with me, of course. But you may not want to... Which is ok too. You can stay at home taking care of things and going to work normally... Or you can stay with Taetae and Jimin... which would surely make them happy... " You chattered.

"I want to go with you. I’ll go where you go." He decided, almost solemnly. That sentence gave you both a nostalgic feeling, even though it hasn't been much more than a month since he first said it to you, and your lives changed overnight. You smiled, glad that he chose what you wanted him to.

"Awesome." Your finger drummed on the steering wheel. "Even if it's a business trip, we're going to have some free time, so I chose a super amazing hotel with lots of things for us to have fun together, and for you to have something to do when I'm at the office. Besides... There are others things that you have to decide..."

Jungkook was already excited about the idea of having fun with you on a trip.

"What is it?"

You sighed, as if you were collecting courage to say what was on your head.

"I am thinking about it for a while now... And my friend from the organization suggested it would be a good idea too. If you were in agreement..." You hesitated. "Would you like to help me?"

Jungkook didn't answer. A stiff silence settled in. In the absence of an answer, you panicked, your fingers tightening the steering wheel.

"It wouldn't be really dangerous, because my task is simple... I would never put you in danger, JK. I don't even get involved in really dangerous situations. It's just because you know about us. I ...I'm sorry."

The silence prolonged.

It was selfish, but you saw in the opportunity of Jungkook working with you in the organization a little of your loneliness fading. Loneliness that is created when you keep a secret even from those you love the most, like your family and the guy who always says he wants to spend the rest of his life by your side. Even your best friends since childhood... Even if you don't hide the truth from them, you can't tell everything either... Your fears and concerns. With Jungkook I would be different. He would be your partner. You could lean on him. It is selfish because you promised him a new life, of peace and tranquility, without even a shadow of the horrible things he lived in the past, and you still don't even know exactly how horrible they were. And in your secret work, bad things can always appear, in one way or another.

"Anyways... One thing we are going to do for sure is bungee jumping. And I think you will love it." You cheered, masking any disappointment you could be feeling.

You chose this double life for a much bigger reason than yourself. You knew from the beginning how it would be. So let's push those bad feelings back inside and move on.

"I'm really... grateful." Jungkook whispered, uncertain voice reaching your ears. "To you, and the organization. I truly think you guys are heros. I would like to be a hero too."

"JK..."

"I trust you." He didn't let you interrupt. "I know that you would never put me in danger or in a situation against my will. You respect me. So I don't have concerns about it. I just don't think I'm going to be very useful... I don't know how to do anything... except to fight. And I will never do that again."

Your hand reached to his on his lap, and as it had become natural his fingers intertwined with yours.

"You don't have to worry about that. I just basically need two little things from you, and I'm sure you got it. One of them you are doing right now."

"And is it?" He was confused. He was doing absolutely nothing. Right?

"I need you to be handsome and charming, just like you are doing now, but in a button-up shirt." You winked at him, making him feel hot, and totally thankful for the darkness so you couldn't see him bright blush. "And that you watch a door for me."

"I-I can do that." ______________________________________________________________________________ The sun didn't even rise yet and you are programming the better route in your gps, sunglasses on the crown of your head, sleep still on your puffy eyes. The suitcases were already in the trunk, and the snacks on the backseat, but for some reason your travel partner was not yet seated beside you, the passenger door he forgot open, letting the morning air in, covering your skin with goosebumps. Is too early to be in a hurry, so even though you have a schedule to follow, you patiently reclined your head on the back of the seat and waited. Jungkook got out the back door of the flower shop, checking twice if he locked the door and turned on the alarm, and then ran to the car. In his hands were his keys, cell phone - that you gave him when he first started working -, and his new wallet - papers and old photograph inside.

"All ready, Y/N!" He entered and closed the door, happy smile on his also puffy face. He was about to put on his seat belt. "Wait!"

"What?" You said in your morning voice - you don't like to speak for the first hour after you wake up at all.

"I forgot my toothbrush." He was already with his hand on the door to go back and get it.

You chuckled and started the motor.

"Sorry, JK. We can buy a new one later... Now we need to hit the road." __________________________________________________________

Just like the suitcases and everything else you would need to travel, at the night before you and Jungkook prepared a travel playlist, specifically songs with road vibes and good for singing at the top of your lungs - your plan was to make him sing along with you to finally praise the beautiful voice you already know he has. If it didn't work, the next plan would be karaoke. It worked. In fact, at start your were all by yourself, you always sing in the car, so he didn't saw it as a invitation to join your personal show, preferring to eat m&m's separated by color while watching you, some hours later tho, motivated perhaps by a specific song or by the energy you established, he gave in, and now you two were having so much fun. The lyrics he didn't know - like the 70s and 80s ones you like because of your mother - you explained about the artists and bands, detailing things about their careers and why you like them, he likes it because he knows more about his job an about you, and the next second you started the next song that you both knew how to sing, there you were joyingly screaming again. You forgot to compliment his voice.

With his mouth full himself, Jungkook filled yours with mini carrots and slices of apple cutted in bunny shape. It was about 10 already, your but was square and legs were sore, you needed to stretch, not to mention your bladder, which should be twice as big as you needed to go to the bathroom.

As if he was reading your mind, the boy beside you whined.

"Y/Nnnnnnnn... I need to pee."

"Me too." You whined back. "Can you wait a little bit more? I planned a stop, and we're almost there."

"Yeah... Sure." He smiled, opening another can of energy drink.

Your look went from the road to him, from him to the can, and from the can to the road again.

"I can't see how drinking another one will help with the bathroom issue..." You mocked.

"I'm also thirsty." He answered as if it was obvious.

Almost half an hour later you parked at a gas station beside the road. As you jumped up the suv, a pursehanging on your arm - with toilet paper and other hygiene items that toilets for community use by the roads don't usually have, you are a prepared woman -, you checked your location to make sure it was the right place. You were supposed to be at a specific gas station at 11am. It only had two bathrooms. One was under maintenance, and the other had a broken lock. At least it wasn't as filthy as you expected it to be.

You handed the purse to Jungkook.

"Go first. I'll guard the door for you." You said.

Jungkook just obeyed, having taken another can and a half of soda after the energy drink. You watched the movement of people and cars, a few filling up with gas, customers at the convenience store, truck drivers stopping for lunch at the restaurant next door. There weren't many people. And you haven't seen anyone paying attention to you.

"Are you looking for something?" Jungkook quietly asked, already beside you.

"Oh. Nothing... I just zoned out. My turn." You run inside the bathroom, remembering your physiological needs.

Back at the car, Jungkook expected you to continue the journey right away, instead you grabbed the steering wheel, still looking through the window with a look so intent that a little line formed between your eyebrows. Jungkook didn't know what was bothering you out of nowhere, but he was willing to help.

"Y/N?" He put a lock of your hair behind your ear so softly that you hardly felt it at all. You looked at him, face unconsciously relaxing. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Just a little headache." It wasn't a lie, until he asked you hadn't noticed, but your head was throbbing a little. "We ran out of water, right? I'm going to buy more."

"Want me to go?" He volunteered.

You considered it. He is just so sweet. But not all places are friendly to hybrids on their own, even documented or free ones, you didn't want to find out if the convenience store was friendly or not in the worst way. It was going to ruin the mood of the trip. Strangers mistreating Jungkook for no reason is always the last thing you want in your day.

"Thanks, sweetie." You shook your head negatively. "I'll be right back."

Jungkook followed you with his eyes as you jumped off the car, walking straight with your hands on your jacket pockets, till you disappeared into the store. Last night when both of you were packing your things, you showed him a 'first aid kit bag' you prepared with several remedies you could need, remembering it now, for sure there's something for your headache there. Wanting to help, he got out and opened the trunk.

You said you would put it in your suitcase... Can he open it? Was it an invasion of privacy? Maybe the kit was in the suitcase's outer compartment, and there would be no issue...

A shiver went up his back and a growl formed in his throat, but it didn't come out. Someone was behind him, terribly close, and with a confused smell that made it impossible to know whether they were human or hybrid. Jungkook did not hear the person's footsteps approaching, and that was fearsome.

"Don't turn around, don't try running, and don't scream. Act naturally." A deep voice of a male spoke.

Despite it being low, there was so much force and authority in this voice that Jungkook couldn't desobay. His eyes reached to the store, looking for you.

"Are you Jungkook?" The voice calmly asked.

How could this guy know his name? What does he want? Different thoughts crossed Jungkook's mind, none optimistic, all scary. He wanted you to show up to save him, and at the same time, without knowing exactly what was going on and the risks, he wanted you not to come back, so you wouldn't be hurt. What should I do?

"I'm." He answered, voice firm to not show fear. A voice he is used to using almost all the time, but since you came into his life, he didn't need it anymore.

The man behind him hummed. Jungkook concluded that he must be a hybrid after all, because he had the urge that the guy was smelling him, but he couldn't say for sure, it could just be in his head. How could this guy's voice be so calm and trustful if his presence had all this power that made Jungkook unable to move a muscle? How conflicting, the feelings this caused in Jungkook were unheard of for him, a kind of fear that he never felt before, the fear that his former master imposed through threats and punishments...

Jungkook searched around, wishing the man wouldn't notice it... Somebody... Anybody... At least one person would notice that there was something wrong going on there, and if Jungkook made eye contact, if he managed to ask for help in any way, everything would be fine. But nobody seemed to see them there, nobody noticed. The gas station employees continued to work normally, the customers entering and leaving their cars, totally unaware... How frustrating.

"I'm a Y/N's friend." The man throatily said. "Nice to meet you, JK."

Jungkook's eyes wided. Friend. One of those friends of yours?

The sound of something being placed on the floor caught Jungkook's attention down, next to his feet was now a small black backpack.

"This is for her. Take care, it's fragile."

"What is it?" Jungkook questioned, not trusting at all - he wouldn't give you anything without being sure it's safe - but strangely relaxed for such an unusual situation.

A low, funny sound came from the guy. Was he laughing?

"Something you guys will need." He simply said. One moment of silence and Jungkook thought the guy was gone, but then he spoke again, now his voice seemed a lot less impersonal. "Tell her she's beautiful today. As always. Good luck."

It was not possible to hear the guy's footsteps leaving, just like when he appeared, but Jungkook felt the absence of an extra presence after a few seconds. The guy was some kind of ninja. He bent down to pick up the backpack and slung it over one shoulder, looking around, trying to find someone who could be the intimidating guy... But he found no one. Without thinking much, he took the kit and closed the trunk, returning to the passenger seat, still looking over his shoulder.

A few minutes later you got back, still with a frown in your face.

"I definitely need an aspirin... You got the kit already!" You slammed the door by accident and cringed at the loud noise, you hate to slam your car door. "Thank you, sweetie... What is it?"

You pointed to the backpack, and Jungkook looked at you with doe eyes. Only now you noticed he was looking frightened.

"Your friend told me it is to you."

Your eyes widened as well and your hand reached your mouth. You were instructed to find someone from the organization at this gas station to receive the necessary equipment for your task. So you were stressed about nobody showing up at the appointed time, it even gave you a headache. Even though you involved Jungkook, you didn't expect them to contact him instead of you. Actually you forgot to tell him about it at all.

"Oh my... JK, I'm sorry I didn't warn you. I guess I still haven't gotten used to having a partner..."

Usually, in this kind of situation, you are all alone or needing to be sneaky around your friend and family. It was out of habit.

"It's ok." Jungkook gave you a sympathetic smile. "What do I do with it?"

"Put it on the backseat." You shrugged and started the car.

"Aren't you checking on it?" Jungkook was surprised. What if it was a bomb? You guys have used bombs before...

"Not here. First we leave." Suddenly you were on your pretty good mood again. "Can you give me an aspirin, please?"

Jungkook gave you the pill and you drank almost an entire bottle of water with it. A car honked past you, because you slowed down, but you just ignored it.

"Did my friend say anything else?" You asked, putting on some low music once again.

Jungkook looked through the window, wishing his cheeks wouldn't get red just because he agrees with what he was about to say. He couldn't look at you to say it when the wind was making your hair move to all directions as if it has his own life, or the sun on your skin makes it shine, or your eyes showing above your sunglasses as you look at him. It wasn't fair.

"He said you are beautiful today.... As always.'

A loud, ringing laugh escaped your lips, forming an incredulous smile.

"I can't believe Yoongi came personally..." You laughed again. "Now make sense... He was checking on you... He didn't let you see him, right?"

"No. He stayed behind me the whole time."

You nodded vigorously, as if that obviously confirmed what you were saying. Jungkook was confused, not understanding anything.

"Who is Yoongi?" He uncertanly asked.

Unlike when you talk about your friends of the organization, almost as if you were telling a story of people who do not exist, perhaps because they are people you work with but generally don't know, neither name nor face, when talking about this Yoongi was much like how you talk about Jimin or Taehyung, a real friend. Only with something more... An admiration that Jungkook hadn't yet heard so present in your voice.

"Min Yoongi." You said, and it was almost possible to see the fire on your eyes. "He is not just one of my friends... He is the boss."

Now it makes sense. It wasn't a ninja. It was the super hero. That is why all thatauthority in his voice and the powerful presence, totally intimidating, but at the same time Jungkook did not feel threatened as he felt so many times before... because there was no real threat. Suddenly Jungkook wasn't frightened or uncomfortable with the situation anymore, he was euphoric. He had met the boss of heroes who save hybrids, and soon he would be one too. Now it seemed a little more real that he could help others like him, just like this Min Yoongi and you.

"What are you smiling at?" You brought him back from his daydream with a teasing smirk.

"It's just... It is exciting." He was clearly excited.

Your smirk wided, eyes on the road. Your partner feels it just like you, and you almost couldn't hold yourself back. You never gave a name to it, and now Jungkook used a perfect word to describe it, and since you can't get out of your head. This secret job... secret life... It really does make you feel like a hero. Sometimes you feel guilty for feeling that way, since you were born on the bad side of history, you are human and humans are the villains. Helping hybrids to fight for justice and gain their freedom is nothing more than your obligation... But with Jungkook you can feel how you want, because you are sure that he will understand and never judge.

"Isn't it, JK?"

You two exchanged a meaningful look. The bond between you becoming stronger without you realizing it.

Just moments later you both excitedly increase the volume of the music that just started so you can sing at the top of your lungs again and again.

__________________________________________________

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olderthanthemorning · 3 years ago

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south london forever (sirius black) part 1

pairing: sirius black x reader

summary: "and everything i ever did was just another way to scream your name." in which reader remembers adolescence and a certain someone's youthful grin.

wc: 1.6k

warnings: mentions of drinking

a/n: look so i fell off the face of the earth for the past few months but i'm in school and also mentally unwell so that's my excuse. this didn't turn our the way i wanted it to but i feel like that's ok?? not quite as painful as it could've be. (also ik i need to do gold rush pt2 but ive been trying to write it and never like what i write so :/) anyway, feedback is always welcome! also request stuff! characters or songs!! (p.s. i'm obsessed with SOUR by olivia rodrigo rn so pls request songs !!)

the night bus jolted and shook you awake. it was a long journey from hogwarts, but you were finally near your own neighborhood. as you looked around, everything seemed just slightly different. you were suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you would never be in any of these places as a student, or a child, again. the old church that had at least 4 weddings every spring seemed a little faded, the park and playground where you and your mates would drink at night looked much smaller in the light of early summer.

within the playground was a swing set, which hadn't meant much to you until a year ago. after a night of singing way too loud with a group of your friends, the manager of the local pub, david, kicked the lot of you out. after a few playful swears and hand gestures to the man, you promised to be back the next night and headed across the street to sit and sober up before trying to climb back into your bedroom window. the group you were with seemed larger than usual so you linked arms with mary, a fellow witch that lived up the street from you.

"picked up a few stragglers, have we?" you asked. mary was a social butterfly, and when you didn't know someone, you could count on her to know them.

"yes! and even better, they're from school," she was careful not to name hogwarts. one of the only downsides of hanging out with muggles was having to police your conversations. "that one there is james," she said pointing at a boy in a slacks and a button down that looked like it was only tucked in a fraction of what it had been at the beginning of the night. his hair is neatly cut and he wears glasses, although they make him look young, like you can see him growing out of them in while you look at him.

"he looks like he's far from home," you laughed, the boy seemed far to sheltered to have been just thrown out of a gay bar.

"tell me about it," mary snorted, "but no he's here with the other one," she nods at another boy who looks more like the others. he has on jeans and a t-shirt that is just short enough to threaten showing his middle at any moment. his hair is dark and curly but a lot messier than james', like he had been listening to a lot of rolling stones. "he's called sirius. apparently he's staying with james this summer because his parents kicked him out. they're pure bloods, real pricks."

"you'd have to be a knob to call your kid sirius," you snickered, letting go of your friends hand and flopping onto the grass. you looked up and saw the upside-down face of sirius, "just wait until you hear my brother's name."

you feel yourself go pale and cover your face with a hand, "shit. i'm sorry," although embarrassed, you couldn't help but giggle.

he chuckled, "no, it's alright. but i your going to make fun of my name, i should at least know yours." he sat beside you, prompting you to sit up, and frantically brush the grass from your hair. "i'm y/n," you say, sticking out your hand, "and that's mary."

"hi mary," sirius give your friend a knowing smile, which confuses you. "you're both going into seventh year?"

you nodded and he continued talking for a bit. sirius seemed to be engaged in the conversation with you and mary but would look around every so often, like he was expecting something. over the course of a few minutes, he managed to refer to three family members as "dickheads," admit to a prank that had involved a charm on a library door that resulted a tidal wave dowsing whoever tried to open it, and start an argument about how the chudley cannons were so much better than the holyhead harpies. the last of which you disagreed with, hence the argument.

"come on sirius, you're not fighting about quidditch again, are you?" james sat down on mary's other side.

"i like to think of it as educating our new friends. they support the harpies, james. they need all the help they can get."

"no no, harpies are decent. they've got you there." james replied, smiling softly at mary.

"listen, y/n, do you want go on a walk?" sirius suddenly turns to you.

"um..." you're caught off guard by his forwardness, you only just met the guy.

"yeah, come on. just a short walk." he pulled you up to your feet and dragged you away.

you follow him into the middle of the street, illuminated by a dim yellow glow from a light post. "how come i've never met you at school?" he turns around to look at you, walking backwards.

"dunno, not looking hard enough i guess?" you tried to test the waters of flirting, since he tried so hard to get you alone.

"i guess not," he smiled and stuck his hands in his pockets. a silence fell over the two of you as you continued to walk, just around the block.

as you rounded the corner to the opposite side of the park from your friends you decide to speak again, "so do you just really like walks or something? this seems like something you could've done alone." you continue to follow him up to a swing set and sit down in the swing next to the one he had perched in.

"you can be kind of thick, you know?" sirius looked at you as if he had just explained a simple concept to you.

"i'm sorry?" you felt annoyed, like he was mocking you. "look, you're the one that asked to be alone with me and then go on acting like a preteen boy that's never kissed anyone."

"y/n, i wasn't trying to put the moves on you, honest. i know i can go on a walk alone, but it's a little awkward to make out with someone while their best friend's right there, innit?" he pointed across the park to where mary and james were coming up for air from a kiss, giggling.

"oh." a different kind of embarrassment washed over you. "how long has that been happening?"

"james hasn't shut up about her for about a week, but tonight was the first time he's had the guts to actually talk to her."

"right." you had a sudden wish to recall a hex that would allow you to melt into ice lolly goo and seep into the mulch at your feet. you took a chance and glanced at sirius, who was grinning at you. "please don't say anything, my ego is already bruised," you said, dropping your head again.

"i mean, i'm flattered, really," he clutched his heart, dramatically, "but if i was really trying to pull you, we would be long gone by now."

"wow, you know some people find humility endearing."

"not me. how could i be humble with a face like this?" you're unsure if your eyes have ever rolled this much before in your life.

"so your ego has also had enough attention for the evening," you laugh. there is another short silence, much less awkward than the one during your walk.

"it's a star, by the way," it's sirius who breaks it this time. "sirius is a star in canis major," you realize he's referencing to your comment about his name earlier.

"yeah, i know. brightest star in the sky, right?" night lessons in the astronomy tower hadn't prepared you for much, but it was proving helpful now.

"something like that. i agree with you though, it's a little much. my parents are kind of," he paused, "supercilious? that's not the right word. but i'm not sure there is a good word for what my parents are."

"i didn't mean to give you shit about it earlier. i actually like your name," while calling it your favorite name would be a stretch, but you felt like this was the sensitive thing to say. he couldn't change it, after all.

"thanks."

"oy!" james calls to you two. the entire group had gathered and was waving you over.

"well, i guess that's our queue," you stand up and walk back together, making small conversation on the way.

the group had gathered because it was apparently time to call it a night. everyone said their goodbyes and started walking their separate ways. you were now waiting on mary to say goodbye to james, as she was always your buddy to walk home with. once again, you're left with sirius as he waits for james.

"well, it was a pleasure to meet you y/n, i look forward to next time." he said. you rack your brain and try to remember if you had made plans to hangout again. you were drunk but not still drunk enough to have missing memories.

"next time?" you ask.

"i've already bragged about how quickly i could charm you. now i just have to prove it." you hope the light post is dim enough to hid your slight blush.

"well, then i look forward to disproving you." and with that, mary is ready and the two of you link arms once again to walk back towards your homes.

#sirius black imagine #harry potter #sirius x y/n #sirius black #mauraders #james potter #sirius blurb #harry potter imagine #hp imagine #imagine #florence and the machine #hp #hp marauders #marauders imagine #marauders blurb #sirius #reader

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years ago

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Breakable Heaven (pt. I) - p.l. dubois

As promised, here’s the first part of Breakable Heaven! I’m really excited for this one, there’s so many things I can’t wait for you all to read. This chapter is more setup and background, but I promise it’s all worth it! I’d love it if you reblogged (helps me know people like my work!) or pop into my inbox and let me know what you think! I read all the tags :)

part I part ii part iii part iv

June 4 (thurs)

Laurel clipped her pager back onto her scrubs, leaning over the counter of the nurses’ station. “You ready to go grab lunch?” She had just finished changing the bandages and administering pain medication for a little boy who was recovering from a heart surgery, and was looking forward to getting off her feet for a few minutes. The PICU floor was quiet, only about half of the rooms being filled, and there were no pressing matters that required her attention. If something drastic changed in the next half an hour, she always had her pager.

Madeline looked up from her chair, where she was finishing up filling in a patient’s chart. “Sounds good,” she said, letting their charge nurse know that they were headed down. Madeline Peltier had been one of the first people to introduce themselves to Laurel when she started; having only been on the unit for two weeks herself, she was still getting a handle on the reins and was more than willing to show Laurel around.

Madeline was also one of the few on the floor who was just as comfortable in English as she was in French. French had been Laurel’s foreign language through college, but she was made rudely aware upon her move to Montréal that the pronunciation and slang of Canadian French was very different from the Standard French of Madame Anderson’s rural Minnesota classroom. Her grasp of the language was good enough to take the Québec nursing licensure exam — which wasn’t even offered in English — but the spoken dialect was proving much more difficult to pick up. They walked down to the cafeteria, on the second floor, grabbing some sandwiches before swiping their ID badges for the employee discount.

“I still think they should give us free food,” Madeline said moodily, unscrewing her water bottle and taking a sip.

Laurel laughed. “When hell freezes over, maybe. Doctor’s lounge usually has some pretty nice stuff set out, or at least that’s what they say. Pity our cards don’t let us in, I’m not above identity theft.” Madeline snorted into her sandwich.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Madeline asked a few minutes later, starting to peel an orange.

“Uh, not much?” Laurel said. “Getting my papers together to resign my lease in a few weeks, grocery shopping, but nothing big. It’s been a long few shifts this week and I’m mostly just looking forward to taking it easy. Why?”

“If you’re up to it,” Madeline shrugged, “Patrice and I are going out for dinner Saturday night and we’d love for you to join us.” Patrice was Madeline’s long-time boyfriend, they started dating in university and had been together ever since.

Laurel rolled her eyes. “Madeline, thank you for the offer, but I don’t want to keep being your third wheel.”

Madeline let out a conspiratorial grin. Oh no, Laurel thought. This can’t be good. “As it would so happen,” she said, “you wouldn’t be third wheeling. One of Patrice’s friends is back in the city for a few months, and I think you two might hit it off,” she sing-songed. Madeline had been trying to set her up from practically the moment they met; whether it was someone from her gym, one of the critical care fellows, or apparently, her boyfriend’s childhood friend. They were always nice guys, but nothing had ever stuck for more than a date or two.

---

Twelve hour shifts meant that, at least on work days, there was no way Laurel was going to have the emotional or physical capacity to make herself a real dinner. She’d order in occasionally, but it more common to just pull together something quick like a frozen pizza or grab whatever leftovers she could find in the fridge. Yesterday’s chicken and rice it was, then. Sticking it in the microwave, Laurel opened the door to her balcony, letting Piper out to use the bathroom. Piper was an eight-month-old chocolate lab, the love of her life who she had adopted just after the new year. Laurel had always grown up with dogs; back in Minnesota she had Jackson and Lucy, and she had been missing them more than a little bit since moving to Canada. Piper was incredible. Intelligent, loyal, and so friendly that even her neighbor’s notoriously picky five-year-old son had taken a shine to her. She wolfed down her food, grabbed Piper’s leash and her water bottle, and headed out the door.

June 5 (fri)

The intricacies of language were hard. And, somehow, learning the intricacies of a language you already knew was even harder. Laurel was trying her damndest to pick up Québecois French as fast as humanly possible, but while she could conjugate l’imparfait in her sleep, the accent and vocabulary were what was really throwing her off. But she intended on making a life in Montréal, and staying as long as she could, so there really wasn’t any option but to hit the books. Immersion worked for some people, and thank God she knew the medical terminology to communicate with her patients and their families, but it wasn’t quite the same when she was struggling through telling the mechanic her car needed an oil change. In a perfect world she’d have someone to help her one-on-one, but she didn’t want to ask Madeline for that big of a favor. And while she made decent money at the hospital — she could afford her own apartment and had a little left over every month to put into savings — it was nowhere near enough to pay for a tutor. So Duolingo, and podcasts, and Youtube lessons it was.

Letting out a groan, Laurel leaned her head into her hands, shutting her laptop. She wasn’t going to make any progress being this frustrated. She bent down to scratch Piper, whose favorite spot for naps was a blanket right beside Laurel’s desk, between the ears, pulling her leash and collar off of their book by her bedroom door. Piper’s ears perked up, and soon enough she was running around the apartment wagging her tail as fast as it could go, a slightly exasperated but nevertheless laughing Laurel following. She finally managed to clip on her leash; at fifty pounds, Piper still had a little bit of growing left to do, but she had already proven she was more than capable of bending the will of a full-grown and otherwise capable 23-year-old woman.

She had discovered Parc Saint-François-d’Assise a few weeks after adopting Piper, and had thanked her lucky stars for finding a dog park so close to her apartment. Having a schedule like hers meant that she couldn’t always get her to a weekly training or obedience class — plus, the French that she did know certainly didn’t include ‘heel’ — so the time spent socializing was well-appreciated. It was only a fifteen minute walk, and Piper was good enough on a leash that she only stopped once to bark at a squirrel in one of the many birch trees that lined the street. The park was an acre or two, small enough that she could see all the way across and keep an eye on Piper as she let her off-leash, but big enough that there was more than enough room for all the animals. It wasn’t particularly crowded that Friday; Laurel was confused for a moment before she remembered that most people were busy at 11 AM on a weekday. There were a few families, with kids out for the summer from school, and a man playing in the far corner with his two small dogs, but not much else.

Laurel leaned down, unclipping the leash from Piper’s collar, and gave the chocolate lab a scratch on the head. “Have fun, girl!” Piper never needed much encouragement, and took off running almost before Laurel had even wrapped up her leash. Rolling her eyes and laughing, she picked up her phone. A text from Allison, one of her only friends in the city aside from Madeline, inviting her out for her birthday next week. Madeline, giving her the address for the restaurant the next night. The Duolingo owl, threatening her with bodily harm if she didn’t log her language progress for the day. She was so engrossed in checking her email that she didn’t hear the shout for her to look out, or the two bulldogs barreling towards her at full speed, until they had knocked her off her feet and she landed straight on her ass.

“Desolé. Vas-tu bien?” The man asked, holding out a hand and helping her up. Laurel nodded, brushing the dirt off her jeans.

“Ouais, ouais. Pas de problème, pas de mal. Ils sont chiens, non?”

He chuckled, patting the smaller of the two bulldogs, which had decided to take a break from accosting passers-by to get petted. “C’est vrai.” They talked for another minute or two before saying goodbye, but she could have sworn it was an hour.

Walking Piper home half an hour later, Laurel was struck with two realizations. The mystery man — bulldog dad, as she had started calling him in her internal monologue — had very possibly the prettiest eyes she’d ever seen in her life, and she’d be cursing herself for the next week for not getting his number.

June 6 (sat)

Saturday meant Laurel had a day off, but more importantly, Saturday meant she didn’t have to set her alarm for 5:30 and could actually wake up at a semi-normal hour. Her internal clock didn’t wake her up until half past seven; even then, it was Piper’s soft barks that finally got her up, throwing on a pait of shorts, and leading her out to the courtyard down the hallway to use the bathroom before coming back to her apartment and throwing open the fridge doors. No 7 AM shift meant that she mercifully had enough time to make a proper breakfast. On shift days, there never seemed to be enough time to actually sit down and eat, and Laurel usually ended up just having a quick bowl of cereal or some overnight oats and making a protein shake to drink on the drive over. Eggs, bread, yogurt, a peach she had picked up from the farmer’s market.

After the bread was done toasting and her tea was finished steeping, she gingerly carried the food out to the balcony, placing it on the table as Piper trotted out behind her. Laurel crunched her toast with one hand as she flipped the pages of a book with the other, a Shirley Chisholm biography that Victoria, her best friend from high school, had recommended her. It was almost an hour later when she finally found a good place to stop. As much as she may have liked to just camp out on her balcony all day and blow through the rest of the book, her pantry was crying out for a grocery run and she was running desperately low on ice cream.

---

The dinner reservation was at 7, and by 6:30 Laurel was almost ready to leave. Her blue skirt fanned out on the couch as she sat killing time on her phone, tapping the floor nervously with the same pair of block heels that she’d worn to her university graduation. The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment building, so a few minutes later, she decided to go, leaving Piper with a pat on the head and plenty of food in her bowl. Laurel laughed to herself on the way over, her eyes flickering over the skyline as she walked alongside the St. Lawrence River.

It’s like what she had told Madeline over and over again, every time she tried to set her up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She wasn’t actively looking for a relationship but wouldn’t be opposed to it. Whatever happens, happens. Biting her lip, Laurel decided that even if she didn’t hit it off with whatever guy Madeline was trying to set her up, even if things go horribly wrong and he’s the exact opposite of what she’s looking for in a partner, she’ll get a free meal and, hopefully, a new friend.

Laurel hadn’t been told much about her blind date, or anything, really. She didn’t even know his name. From what she had been able to figure out, he was from the area but didn’t work in Canada most of the year — so maybe he was in business? All Madeline told her was that he was tall, attractive, and had a dog. Or was it two? She honestly couldn’t remember. She trusted her and Patrice’s judgement, so if he had gotten their stamp of approval, it was good enough for her. She grabbed her phone out of her bag as she neared the restaurant, letting Madeline know she was almost there and asking where to meet her. She told the hostess she was meeting some friends, and Madeline walked around the corner less than a minute later. “Hi, love!” she said, reaching out and wrapping Laurel in a warm hug. “We’re over this way.” Laurel followed her around the corner and past the bar to a four-seater against the wall. She slid into the seat closest to the wall, leaving a space empty.

“He should be back in a minute, just ran to the bathroom,” Patrice said, nodding towards the vacant seat and referring to her mystery man. A minute passed, Laurel scanning the wine list, before Madeline threw her hand up in greeting.

“Salut, PL!” When Laurel looked up, she almost dropped her menu.

“Oh my God!” The stranger — PL’s — eyes widened in recognition. “You’re the bulldog dad!”

He chuckled, rounding the table to greet her with a kiss on the cheek. Left, then right. It had taken Laurel a while to get used to; even going to university in Toronto, cheek kissing was practically obsolete, but that changed very quickly upon her move to Montréal. “I am. Pierre-Luc Dubois, good to meet you properly this time.”

Madeline looked between the two, clearly confused. “You know each other?”

Laurel shook her head. “Not really, no. His dogs ran into me at the park yesterday when I was there with Piper, we talked for a minute or two.”

Pierre nodded in affirmation. “So, Piper. The chocolate lab’s yours then?”

“My pride and joy.”

June 13 (sun)

Over the next week and a half, it became more and more common for Laurel to meet up with the group on the weekend, or one of her off days, or really whenever she had spare time. She had learned that Pierre-Luc was a hockey player, Patrice explaining that they had played atom league together growing up and the friendship had somehow stuck. Come to think of it, he had looked a little familiar. The University of Minnesota Duluth was less than an hour drive from her hometown, and besides being the college that the majority of the 50% of college-bound graduates of her high school went to, it also had one of the best hockey programs in the country. So she knew the sport, followed enough to be informed, and had even become a de facto Maple Leafs fan from her time in Toronto.

Sometimes Madeline and Laurel would bring another friend from the hospital along, sometimes it was just the four of them. Once, a Sunday afternoon coffee meetup turned into just Laurel and Pierre-Luc; Patrice had come down with a bad cold and Madeline was staying behind to look after him. If she was being honest, it was far less awkward than she had anticipated. Pierre had insisted on buying her iced capp, and they had settled in a corner booth, sharing a box of Timbits.

“Patrice mentioned you’re from the U.S., somewhere in the Midwest?” Pierre asked, sipping his coffee.

She nodded. “Cloquet, Minnesota,” Laurel sighed, “where there is exactly one hotel, one high school, and life revolves around the mines.”

Pierre sucked in. “That sounds...interesting,” he said diplomatically.

Laurel laughed. “It’s okay, you don’t have to mince words. The people are nice, if you think like they do, and the scenery is gorgeous, but…” She gathered her thoughts. “It’s not the place you can really dream big, you know?” He nodded. “Neither of my parents went to college, my mom’s a receptionist at the elementary school and my dad works in the mines. I knew by the time I was in high school that I wanted something more. There was just nothing for me there, and I didn’t ever want to feel as trapped and beaten down as some people I know.”

Pierre leaned back in his chair. “Do you go back often?”

“Once a year, maybe twice?” Laurel said, shaking her head. “I’ve only got a few good friends back there, and trust me, they’re much more excited to come to big-city Canada than I would be to go back to a town of 12,000 people.”

“Fair enough.”

Conversation between them flowed easily, so easily that before she knew it, two hours had gone by and he had to leave for a skate. As she walked back to the metro, Laurel couldn’t help but shake the feeling that the two hours she had spent with Pierre had felt more like a date than any she’d been on since moving to Montréal a year ago. But it couldn’t have been a date, because it wasn’t supposed to be. Right?

June 15 (tues)

It was half past seven on Tuesday, and Laurel was just getting home from work. She loved her job, genuinely, but twelve hour shifts were no joke. Spinning her key ring around her finger, she stopped in the mailroom, unlocking her box and fishing out the stack of envelopes that had accumulated in the two days since she’d last checked. Walking over to the elevators, she held the bundle in one hand as the other punched in her button to the third floor. Laurel flipped through the envelopes as the doors opened. Water bill, bank statement, letter from Immigration, Refugees, and Citizenship Canada. Hang on. Laurel stopped at the last envelope, running her finger under the flap as she turned her key in the lock, opening the door with her hip and letting it slam shut behind her.

She had applied a little over a month ago for her permanent residency card, which she had been assured by everyone she asked would be a relatively easy and painless process. “You’re a nurse, and a good one. I could use ten of you,” her charge nurse had stated. “You went to school here, you have a Canadian degree and a Canadian license. There’s no reason they would cause you any trouble,” Madeline had said. And she had done her due diligence, double-checked every piece of information, checked off every document on the list. Done everything she was supposed to do. So when she unfolded the paper, the words shocked her.

Denied. Laurel brought her hand shakily up to her mouth as her eyes raced down the letter. No explanation was given, all she was told was that her application had been rejected and she had until September 17, when her work visa expired, to leave the country. The first thing Laurel did was frantically grab her laptop, seeing if there was some way she could apply for a visa extension, but the deadline had passed; she’d have to go back to the consulate in Minneapolis and try to re-apply from there, but her chances weren’t good if she’d already been rejected. The second thing she did was collapse on the floor, Piper nosing herself under her arm, and cry.

June 16 (wed)

When the group met up for lunch the next day, Madeline noticed something was off about Laurel almost immediately. Normally someone who was hyper-focused on the task at hand, she was stirring her straw around in her glass, nibbling at a piece of bread and answering questions shortly if at all. “What’s up?” she asked carefully, catching Laurel’s eye as she tried to busy herself with straightening her napkin. There wasn’t really a way she could get out of answering that one.

“I, uh, I got a letter yesterday,” she said. Pierre and Patrice stopped their conversation. All eyes were on her. “From immigration services. They told me,” her eyes pricked with tears, “they told me my PR application was denied, and I only have until the middle of September before I have to leave.”

“Like, leave the country?” Pierre asked. She nodded. “But can’t you renew your visa or something?”

“No, I looked into everything.” Laurel said in frustration, shaking her head. “There’s not enough time for it to be processed, I’d have to go back and reapply in the States, and even then the chances aren’t great.”

Madeline leaned over, wrapping Laurel up in a hug. “Oh, Laur. I’m so sorry,” she said. “You don’t deserve this.”

“It’s just hard,” Laurel started, “knowing that there’s nothing there for me back home. That’s the whole reason why I came to Canada in the first place, to get away. To get out. I’d have to retake all my licensure exams and find a new job and I don’t want to have to start all over when that’s not at all what I planned for. I thought I’d stay. I thought this was going to be my home”

“I can call my friend who’s a lawyer, see if he’s got any ideas?” Patrice offered.

Laurel smiled weakly “Thanks, Patrice, but I really don’t think they’d be able to do much. I was on the website for hours, and there’s like two ways I wouldn’t be kicked out of the country. And I don’t think I’m going to be able to give birth by September 17,” she said, letting out a watery laugh.

“You’d have to marry someone or something to stay,” Madeline said.

“Yeah, that’s the only other way it was going to happen,” Laurel agreed. “But seeing as how I’m obscenely single, I don’t see that happening…” She trailed off.

“I’d marry you,” Pierre said suddenly, shrugging.

Laurel’s head whipped to her side. “You’d what?”

“I’d marry you. We’re both single, by all accounts you’re an amazing nurse and deserve to stay. We get married, stay ‘together’ for a few years until you get your citizenship, and then tragically inform the citizenship and immigration people that while we tried, it just didn’t work out, and get a divorce. Easy peasy.”

Laurel almost burst out laughing, the idea was so ridiculous. She almost couldn’t wrap her head around what he was offering to do. He couldn’t be serious. Right?

---

Laurel slung her arm over her head, body tangled up in bedsheets. According to her phone, it was well past one. She couldn’t sleep. She had tried rain sounds, counting sheep, drinking a cup of chamomile tea, but nothing was working; she just wasn’t able to still her mind. Honestly, she couldn’t stop thinking about lunch earlier. More specifically, what Pierre had said.

As much of a bad person as it may have made her sound, the more she thought about Pierre’s offer, the more it made sense. He was incredibly attractive, so it wouldn’t be hard to fake a marriage to him for a few years. She really didn’t keep in contact with anyone from back home in Cloquet aside from her family and a few friends from high school, so it’s not like there would really be anyone to blow her cover. And she really, really wanted to stay in Canada. It wasn’t just the scenery, or the general human decency of everyone, or even the universal healthcare that pushed her to stay. She had fallen in love with the people, the city, and didn’t want to go down without a fight.

Rolling over, she grabbed her phone from her nightstand, pulling up Pierre’s contact. Hey, she texted. Laurel immediately cursed herself as the three dots popped up on his side. Hey? She was going to ask this man to marry her and the best she could come up with was hey? He wrote back immediately. Hey. You’re up late, what’s up? Laurel took a deep breath. How serious were you about offering to marry me? His second response was even faster than the first. As a heart attack.

#hockey imagine #hockey writing #pierre luc dubois #hockey smut #nhl imagine #hockey #nhl imagines #nhl smut #hockey imagines #nhl writing #nhl

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ratabethchase · 2 years ago

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ten songs i love by different artists

omg thank you @existentialvoidofexistence for tagging me!! i was very close to reblogging your post just to be an asshole but you're lucky <3

Stand Tall from Julie and the Phantoms

I could listen to this song a million times and i would literally never stop going absolutely bonkers at it. I love it so so much dude i need to rewatch jatp

2. Hate Myself by dodie

just. such a good song. i struggled to pick a dodie song because i love all of them so much but this was the first to come to mind

3. Bad Reputation by Joan Jett

This is such a headbanger and i have been listening to it recently bc my band might do a cover of it which will be fun. i dont know if i can sing like joan jett though

4. That's Not My Name by The Ting Tings

i have no idea how i even found out about this song but it goes so hard .

5. Madison by Orla Gartland

madison is my proof to my irls that i listened to orla gartland before heartstopper because when i was writing my english creative piece i had it stuck in my head so i named the two characters madison and orla.

6. Waiting in the Wings from Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure

legit have not even seen this show. i just watched this animatic on youtube and i have been hooked on it ever since. it just makes me Feel Things.

7. Real Gone by Sheryl Crow

the song from cars. my brother has watched cars so much out loud that i have grown to love this song. my teacher also saw me listening to it once and got excited that i also liked sheryl crow

8. My Tennessee Mountain Home by Dolly Parton

omg showing off that broad music taste. country music gets so much slander and for what. i love this song so much.

9. 1985 by Bo Burnham

slaps.

10. Bright Lights Bigger City/Magic from Pitch Perfect

i am obsessed with pitch perfect. it is so misogynistic and so feminist at the same time.

honestly though. these are just the most recent songs ive listened to lol!

no pressure tags for some mutuals and some people i see in my notes quite often:

@yaznomarbles @woweejoeyrichter @wands-n-lillies @ironghostie @guyhusbands @franken-pigeon @hillerska-official @fluencca @an-odd-idea @wouldthehill @whyare-youlooking

@insanitysmiles @comradebacterium @auaddict @bluedragonbaby @coffeeflavoredtears525600 @cowboy-lesbian @darkarfs @murkat @brorphine @repetitive-tautology

jeez that was a lot more tags than i thought i would do but. yeah. do it or dont do it

#thank you for tagging me!!!#slay #mine

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ronsenburg · 4 years ago

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i saw this post and IMMEDIATELY started writing an essay, so I moved it here so as not to clutter up someone else’s post...........

it absolutely blows my mind that, today in 2021, i honestly can’t remember what’s canon from the turnabout serenade case, what i read in a fanficition, and what is my own personal HC. like, it’s been more than a decade since i played the case for the first time and it’s probably been 5ish years since the last time i played AJ (definitely forgot to play it again before writing youngblood which is.... contributing to this) so i really don’t know if what goes on in my head is accurate, but, over the years, i’ve come up with a Lot of Thoughts, which i’ll discuss below.

tldr; it’s all about power (the desire for, the subversion of, the need to maintain), but if you’d like the specifics, here you go:

daryan: i think the explanation that he did it for “the money” is a line. please don’t mistake me, daryan is an asshole and a murderer, im not discounting that, but in court ive always thought that he was playing the part that everyone- especially klavier- is expecting of him. he’s the bad guy. might as well make it a finale for the books.

i’ve always seen daryan and klavier as opposite sides of the same coin when it comes to family and career aspirations. where i imagine klavier came from a well off and well loved family before his parents died, i see daryan from a working class, difficult upbringing. i read a few papers on the psychology of children/parenting style of police officers and decided early on that daryan’s dad was also a cop. his mother is either dead or (more likely) left them early on. dad coped by working a little too hard, gambling/drinking a little too much, and was overall not around a lot and kind of an authoritarian/controller when he was. it left daryan with a lot of anger he had to cope with, about what it means to be a cop, the idea of a “just cause” and the ends justifying the means, and an issue with authority (which is laughable, considering what a bully he turned out to be. sometimes we emulate our parents unintentionally; it’s the only thing we have to model our behavior on). so daryan started off at a disadvantage. klavier started off loved and supported and surrounded by expensive belongings, but the death of his parents and the subsequent emotional and financial abuse by his newly appointed guardian/brother left him in a similar place by the time he and daryan met. i think it was probably the foundation for their bond, and i think it’s why klavier decided to become a prosecutor instead of following in his brother’s footsteps and why daryan ultimately decided to enter law enforcement as well. i think they had a lot of optimistic, idealistic thoughts on being better than the people that hurt them, on utilizing the law to make the world a better place. i don’t think klavier ever conceived that kristoph could have wanted him in the prosecutors office as another pawn to play, and i don’t think he realized how fluid daryan’s morality could be.

shipping alert—you guys know me, im crazy for the idea of a “best friends to on again off again lovers to tenuous coworkers to bitterly disappointed in but still harboring feelings for the other person despite being on opposite sides” dynamic between daryan and klavier. i honestly can’t separate the ship from the case and im sorry about it. if you read youngblood you know that i think daryan started to resent klavier pretty early on, when they were still together, when the band was still successful, because klavier was able to move forward and work through the issues of his past while daryan was seemingly stuck. yes, daryan had made detective and the gavinners were a hit, he’d risen above his initial social standing and thrown off the control his father, he had money and fame and a future. but everything he had was because of klavier. daryan needed klavier, emotionally, morally, financially. but even when klavier was professing his love for daryan, both privately and in the form of chart topping songs, he didn’t need daryan. it was obvious (and of course, healthy, but how do children of abuse learn what a healthy relationship looks like without help? especially when the only relationships you’ve ever had are codependent and, in some ways, just as toxic?) and so things spiraled. daryan got possessive and angry again and klavier got distant and they broke up and got back together and broke up and didn’t get back together but kept ending up back in each other’s arms for comfort and for support and because how the hell do you move on when the person you’ve been in love with since you were 15 is sitting next to you on a tour bus and is also your partner in a homicide case and singing songs he wrote about you on stage in front of thousands of screaming fans?

okay, shipping glasses off, sorry. but no matter how you look at their relationship, daryan’s promotion out of homicide was probably the most distance they’d had from each other in years, as it removed a large chunk of the daily “working relationship” aspect. and without klavier there to act as a moral compass, it was likely easier to slip back into his earlier thoughts about what constitutes justice and his intense hatred of being pushed around by someone who has more power than you. so enter the chief justice with a son who is sick, dying even, but can’t get the medicine he needs because there’s a government out there telling them no. The reasons are arbitrary: the medicine could be used as a poison and can’t be found anywhere else so it might come back to bite the country in the ass if it’s misused by criminals. newsflash: pretty much all medicine is poisonous if it isn’t used correctly, should we stop using penicillin entirely because some people might be allergic to it? they’ve essentially condemned a whole bunch of people to death because they’re worried about their reputation. and that doesn’t sit well with daryan, who is caught up remembering the bullshit justifications his dad would spout when he knocked him around, that kristoph would give when withholding every single penny of money klavier was entitled to until he agreed to do what kristoph wanted. it isn’t right, it isn’t fair and unfair laws shouldn’t have to be upheld, especially when they’re the unfair laws of a country you most definitely did not swear to uphold and protect. it was never about money, though daryan agrees to take it when the chief offers it to him, more for his comfort level than for daryan’s need or desire. it’s about justice and putting a bully in it’s place with a (seemingly) victimless crime that should be so easy given his role in the international division of criminal affairs and klavier’s sudden hard on for the country of borginia. seriously, how could this have been any more straightforward? daryan is capable of murder, though. all cops are. and if it came down to a “them or me” shootout, of course he’d pull the trigger.

machi: when you come from nothing, the desire to have something of your own is overwhelming. the idea that machi is famous and financially set is disingenuous; he is not individually famous, he is Lamiroir’s “blind” pianist. yes, she views him as a son and seems to care deeply for him, but his main purpose in her life is to perpetuate a lie. machi has been abandoned before; what will happen to him if lamiroir suddenly remembers who she was in the past? what if she has a family and a true son of her own and has no use for him? what if their secret is found out and the public rejects him for his role in it? he is 14. what does he know about being provided for? about contracts and trust funds and royalties? he ended up in an orphanage originally because he was unwanted, and that led to a life of poverty and hardship. abandonment issues are rooted in fear and are rarely logical. i find it far easier to believe that machi did it for the money, but more for the power money might have given him towards independence in an unfeeling and capitalist world.

kristoph: i won’t get into this, because this is supposed to be about daryan and machi and the guitar’s serenade, and kristoph is not really involved in that at all. but i think everything that kristoph has ever done in the game, good or bad, is rooted in a pathological need to constantly be in control. i think that kristoph and klavier both have very intense personalities that they have sought to control over the course of their lives for the sake of their careers. kristoph believes that to be a good lawyer, you need to play your cards close to your chest, that to show your hand is to expose a weakness that the enemy can exploit, that to show no weaknesses at all places you in a position of power. klavier believes that to show his true self, to display his weaknesses and fears to the public, would result only in their rejection. as such, they both wear masks of their own creation even under the most intense of pressures: kristoph as pleasant and calm, klavier as magnetic and dynamic. note the primary difference in their rational? klavier wants to be wanted, while kristoph wants power. and power corrupts, after all. once you have it, what could be more overwhelming than the idea that you might lose it all? it can drive even the most rational people to commit acts of passionate irrationality in the name of holding on to that power. and kristoph has so many pieces involved in his strategy to maintain.

#i love daryan crescend i'm so sorry #i cut this to spare you all the pain of my rambling and also my inability to use caps and proper punctuation #gonna tag this as klavdar so you can avoid it just in case it bothers you #i think it's hilarious that this is JUST AS MUCH ABOUT KLAVIER as it is about any of these other people #shut up krissy #i have a lot of feelings about this case okay #man i'm still obsessed with lamiroir and machi's portrayal in 'dirty sympathy'#excellent stuff i'm going to go read that again #klavdar #i don't think i ever managed to squeeze in my hc about the specifics of kristophs abuse towards klavier into any fics #specifically the financial aspects of it #but its absolutely an effective weapon #klavier's money from his parents would absolutely be in a trust and controlled by kristoph until he was legally able to access it #he would have to ask kristoph for EVERYTHING #can you imagine how easy that would be for kristoph to turn against him? as a means of control? i just......#broke: kristoph physically abused klavier when he was a kid #woke: kristoph didn't have to abuse klavier when he could manipulate him so completely with money and mind games #all the while making klavier believe that he was truly looking out for him and any hurt klavier experienced was selfish and misguided #and klavier's fault #:|

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