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wangxianficfinder · 8 months ago

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Fic Finder

March 5th

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1. I’m pretty sure the fic im looking for is a one shot, but it’s been so long I can’t remember: LXC brings WWX (who he’s been teaching musical cultivation) to LQR and is like “he’s never learned this song, watch” and plays something. Then gestures to WWX who plays it perfectly from memory. LXC gestures to him while looking at LQR like “see?” and LQR is impressed

FOUND! multitude Chapter 13: good teacher lan qiren by bunny093 (bamf/genius wwx, the lans are better are sect-ing here, lightly based on a lilo&stitch scene, not yunmeng jiang friendly)

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2. Hello! Looking for a specific fic, at some point wwx transmigrates or reincarnates into the modern world where he is a ceo (?) and was trained by a teacher his whole life about sword fighting etc, and then he eventually gets his memories back and invents a way (i believe it was a device) to dimension/time travel to get back home. @vulpeculatee

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3. Hi, I'm looking for a Wangxian fanfic, where Wei Wuxian is in the Lan sect and he grows mushrooms. I just know that mushrooms were an important part of the fanfic, there was a scene where the other sects followed the Lan disciples to see where they bought the mushrooms. Thanks.

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4. hello! i just finished rereading "switched" (wwx switched with xz) but its ending was wwx finding out that he's pregnant. i remember that there's a part two of that where he gave birth in modern world, and they even cut their own hair but i cant find it. does anybody know where can i find it? or maybe im talking about two different story? im not really sure. thankyouuuuuu!

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5. good day! for the enxt fic finder, do u guys know tha time travel fic where wwx came back during the lectures then he let himself fall from the cliff where lwj was there and told him to let go? thank u in advance!

FOUND!🔒 Without end by barisan (M, 69k, WIP, WangXian, Time Travel, Suicide Attempt, Hurt/Comfort, Depressed WWX, Good Uncle LQR, Bad Parent YZY, Bad Parent JFM, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Yunmeng Jiang bashing, Sentient Resentful energy, Medical inaccuracies)

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6. Making a deep dive into my AO3 history is an Exhausting prospect right now, so I must turn to the hive mind. Three fics I'm looking for rn.

A) Meng Yao is running an errand and finds his car beset by a swarm of bees! 🐝🐝🐝 Cue LXC to the rescue.

B) Wei Ying is out on a first date and it's going poorly. Lan Zhan overhears. Tea facts are relevant. 🍵

C) Post-canon case fic, where the case is a mysterious energy that some people can see/sense and some cannot. Can't remember whether WWX just happened to bump into LWJ+ducklings or if they were already hanging out, but the two of them figure their shit out whilst investigating. I think there was a garden involved. And energy-induced kissing (possibly even sex?). @linderel

6A)

FOUND! save the bees (ride a beekeeper) by Ariaste (T, 4k, LXC/JGY, modern, Fluff and Humor, Meet-Cute, Bees, Flirting)

6B)

FOUND!🔒 Heaven, Wait by sunflowersfield (T, 2k, wangxian, Modern, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Neurodiversity, Falling In Love, Getting Together, Happy Ending, First Dates, First Kiss, Hyperfixations, Strangers to Lovers, Meet-Cute, The bad date with the original character is brief and he never sees that guy again)

6C)

FOUND! Not What We May Be by brooklinegirl (E, 29k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Mutual Pining, Bedsharing, casefic, Hurt/Comfort, background Jingyi/Sizhui)

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7. Hi. Hope you are well.

I'm trying (and failing!) to find a WangXian fix I read years ago on Ao3.

From what I remember, Wei WuXian was a Captive of the Wen and kept in a high tower where is tortured and chained with a small window and Lan Zhan also gets captured and put in the same cell of Wei WuXian.

Lan Zhan is there when the Wen soldiers drag Wei WuXian away for torture and they bond. Later Lan Zhan finds out Wei WuXian is a Phoenix and the Wens want his tears. Wen Qing and Wen Ning are his only friends.

Wei WuXian helps Lan Zhan escape and Lan Zhan has to convince the cultivation world to save Wei WuXian but by the time they reach the Wens, they see that Wei WuXian lost control of the Phoenix and Lan Zhan calms him down amidst the fire.

I also remember the fic mentionimg that a Phoenix meant Goodluck.

Thsnk you in advance!

FOUND? a thousand hills, no birds in flight | 千山鳥飛絕 by defractum (nyargles) (E, 26k, WangXian, Mythology, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon adjacent setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort)

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8. thank u so much for all u do! i actually have two fics i’m searching for! i remember reading both in 2021 so i believe that narrows things down!

A) first one is canon divergence from qiongqi path, i remember that wwx almost dies but puts his consciousness into a paperman and his body is somewhat preserved by wen qing till they can find a way to heal him and then transfer his consciousness back but they pretend he died to the other sects (i remember they even go check his body) i remember the wen remnants go to lotus pier pretending to be related to ppl from yunmeg and jzx survives. the whole mess with mxy and the summoning array happens but it fucks it up a little since wwx isn’t actually dead and he becomes something like a spirit/ghost for a while and ends up meeting lwj by accident when he’s taming mxy back to lotus pier. they manage to heal his body and he transfers himself back in and they all live happily ever after.

B) the second one is a fic in a fic series of wangxian having more children and being very domestic that includes past lwj changing places with present lwj for a day and he basically spends the day with wwx, they go farming he helps with the kids, they see lsz for a time, unfortunately that’s all i can remember from it.

8A)

FOUND? 🔒 something like by silversshadow (T, 69k, wangxian, Major Character Death, Canon Divergence, Everyone Lives AU, Temporary Character Death)

8B)

FOUND? These Two Most Powerful by stiltonbasket (G, 4k, wangxian, LXC & LWJ, Married Life, Family Feels, Parenthood, Temporary Amnesia, Time Travel, it's amnesia but it feels like time travel to LWJ, wangxian have more babies, and they are the cutest buns, not your average amnesia fic? there's no drama here tbh, just soft husbands carrying on with fatherhood, And loving each other, Mild Angst, Happy Ending)

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9. Hello! I am looking for some help to find a fic. It's a story where Wei Wuxian becomes the ruler of afterlife essentially. All the characters who died before him are there but he has no memory of his past. The only way to get his memory was to go to earth and retrieve them(?). The last chapter I remember is MXY calling him, allowing him to return to the earthly realm.

Please and thank you 😊 @myblurryreality

Thank you for the suggestion but that is not it, unfortunately. The one I'm looking for starts out with Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan being in this after life city. They had to struggle for a bit because there death offerings(?) were delayed. Wen Qing was a doctor in the town and helped heal Jin Zixuan from an injury at one point. The reason everyone's offerings were delayed was because there was a new Ruler, who ended up being Wei Wuxian. He had absolutely no memory of anyone, but allowed Jiang Yanli to visit him. He would hear a song (Wangxian) played as a tribute(?) but didn't know who played it.

NOT FOUND!🔒 A Secret Never Shared by Vrishchika (T, 28k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, frankencanon, Pining, Soft LWJ, Deity WWX, BAMF WWX, Alternate Universe, LSZ is the best boy)

FOUND! A Celebration In White by Enigmatree (T, 20k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Afterlife AU, Underworld, god AU, 13 years of Inquiry, Happy Ending)

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10. Help!

I lost a Twitter threadfic! I could have sworn I saved it, but either I accidentally deleted it or the author did. And they were about to update it too!

It was about WWX who, during the first Burial Mounds siege, was transformed into a rabbit, and now lives as an immortal bunny. Now it's modern times and he's been rescued by a reincarnated LWJ, who is about to leave for college (veterinary) and doesn't remember anything about his past life. WWX is wary of him at first (he thinks that LWJ was amongst those who led the siege), but he eventually warms up to him and manages to tell him the truth using a computer.

Please help me find this! @blueghost13

FOUND? Here's the link for the Twitter Thread And I just discovered that it got updated 2 days ago when I had expected no more, so thanks for making me check 🤗

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11. Hi! I've been searching this fic for so long and couldn't find it. As far as I can remember in this fic Wei Ying survives the siege and he goes away with Ayuan. He invents a silver core type of thing. some kind of mechanical/physical core. And later I think the jins capture him or something. Do you have any idea about this fic?

FOUND? 🔒❤️ kick at the darkness ‘til it bleeds daylight by AlfAlfAlfAlfAlf, tardigradeschool (T, 75k, WangXian, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Eventual Happy Ending, Getting Together, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, Inspired by The Parent Trap (1998), Kid Fic, teen shenanigans, two a-yuans, Fluff and Angst)

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12. Hi. I love your Fic Finder and Recs and your suggestions have kept me busy reading for almost 2 years now 😍

I was hoping you could help me find a fic I've recently read the summary off. Something about WY accidentally domming LZ Z somehow and turning him into a sub without realizing? And I think WQ pointed it out to him? I believe it was a modern setting, and the summary sounded very light-hearted and entertaining.

I'm not sure if that's enough info to go on, but thanks for your help in advance 🥰 @papperlapapp1

FOUND! And They Were Roommates! or The Accidental Domming of Lan Wangji by DizziDreams (E, 21k, wangxian, Dom WWX, Sub LWJ, inexperienced BDSM practices, un-/under- negotiated kink, horny climbing, horny cohabitation, horny on main except by main I mean at a party surrounded by innocent bystanders, Praise Kink, Masturbation, Bondage, Lingerie, Orgasm Delay/Denial, omg they were roommates, Modern, BDSM, debatably a bit of dom drop, Public Masturbation, Edging, Getting Together, WQ has to come in and straighten this shit out)

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13. I was reading a great fic and then Tumblr updated and ripped out from me when I was only in chapter two! Devastated. Its world building at its finest, you are not folks directly what's happened or happening. WWX is the proprietor of Yiling Garden, a cafe that offers sanctuary. Mo Xuanyu arrives in the first chapter seeking sanctuary from the Inquisition. Lan Wangji arrives, saying he's sanctuary and there for Mo Xuanyu, but WWX assumed he was inquisition at first. They have not seen each other for years. Clearly something happened to separate WWX from everyone he loves except Wen Ning, who works for the shop too, and had been raised from the dead. For unknown reasons, Wen Qing is elsewhere and happy. Wen Yuan is mentioned, but WWX doesn't know what happened to him. There are phones so it's a modern au. And... That's it. Tumblr died right after Lan Wangji asks WWX out for dinner. Help! Thank you VERY much! @lurkdot

FOUND? transmuter by WithLoweredVoices (Not rated, 113k, wangxian, Modern with Magic, Magical Realism, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending)

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14. Hi 😃 I need help to find a fic because I only remember a tiny bit! LWJ isn't wearing his forehead ribbon and LQR/Lan elders are trying to get him to wear a new one, the bit I really remember goes like this:

LQR: gives LWJ a new forehead ribbon LWJ: it's not the same 🥺🥺🥺

FOUND? A Future Family In A Broken Past by Hauntcats (T, 121k, wangxian, WWX & Wen Remnants, Jiang Family & WWX, WQ/MM, JYL/NHS, LXC/NMJ, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not Cultivation World Friendly, WWX Needs a Hug, Family Dynamics, What is a good family?, Fear of emotions does not excuse abuse, Not Jiang Clan Friendly, Angst with a Happy Ending, Time Travel fix-it, Canon-Typical Violence, Canon Divergence, LXC needs a hug, Everyone Needs A Hug, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Not YZY Friendly)

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15. Hi! Hope you are well. I am desperately searching for a fic I read once but cannot find it anywhere. In this fic WWX survives the siege and leaves with A yuan. He and a yuan live in hiding. wwx also builds a golden core-more like a silver core as he invents a physical core that works the same as a golden core. I can't remember how it finishes but I think Jins capture him and A yuan seeks help of LWJ. Hopefully you can find this!!! Thank You!

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16. Hi! This is for fic finder. Its cql post canon i think. WWX goes to some place near ocean and he resque a men who battling a ghost ship? I think he was a cultivator from a nearby sect. WWX then teach them a little bit before he continue his journey. He went to Jinlintai. In the road he met a woman who goes to the same destination as him to met her wife. They become a fast friend. Thats all i can remember. Thank you! @idontknowwhattowriteforusername

FOUND! Linger by the Door (I’ve Always Been Yours)by piecrust (T, 78k, wangxian, slow burn, canon compliant)

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17. Hi! I don't know if I'm doing this right bc I'm new to tumblr... I've seen your blog before though and it's so helpful! I have a fic finder request - I remember it was a harry potter au where wwx has been gone from lwj's life for 13 years. he came back (as an animagus?) as a black rabbit and lwj was a professor at hogwarts. lwj takes care of rabbit wwx and then jgy comes with aurors at the end of the fic to attack hogwarts and lwj fights him. When lwj is almost going to be killed, rabbit wwx turns back into a human and protects him. Thanks so much!

FOUND? an armful of warmth by Alaceron (G, 3k, wangxian, Harry Potter Setting) It has a sequel, too!

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18. I seem to have read a summary or a review of a wangxian fic and can't recall if it's from this blog so i am putting in a request for help in finding it so in that summary it was mentioned that wangxian had travelled to a village and met a lady on bank of the sea but she was actually a sea monster/creature don't exactly remember what and she consumes hearts of her victim and LWJ becomes her target but he distracts her by tell her his and WWX's story while WWX tries to save LWJ as the body of the victim comes to shore after a week or so don't remember much or more so I hope this suffices also it was most likely to be a multi chapter fic with less than 10 but more than 3 chapters and that it was probably on ao3 . Thank you so much for your work.

FOUND! The Eater of Hearts by ElDiablito_SF (T, 17k, WangXian, Post-Canon, Chinese Mythology & Folklore, LWJ is Scheherezade, WWX and LQR speak to each other agenda, Angst with a Happy Ending, WangXian are very in love and very disgusting, Case Fic, Gratuitous kissage)

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19. Hi!

For the next fic finder can you help me with this ao3 fic, Modern Au where wwx gets kicked out of the Jiang family house so he has to stay (I think) in a shed close to his school, and also he has to take extra food from the school cafeteria and that’s how (I think) LQR finds him stealing after class

There was missing food so they also checked the cameras but wwx dodged them also NMJ in this AU is a cop and close to LXC

When they find out about wwx situation he’s taken to the lan house, eventual wangxian

And I don’t remember more

Thank you a lot for the help!🙇‍♀️❤️

FOUND? Where is home? By SpicyRamen_10969 (M, 80k, WIP, WangXian Modern AU, High School, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Coming Out, Not Jiang Family Friendly, Supportive LQR, Good Sibling LXC, Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, JC Being an Asshole, Possible Smut?)

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20. There is this fanfic where Sizhuai(sp?) And Jingyi are night hunting with other Lan juniors. Nearly everyone dies, except him and Jingyi because out of desperation, Sizhuai uses demonic cultivation but he gets whipped a lot with the discipline whip because of it. Because of this Jingyi leaves the Lan sect. When he wakes up, Sizhuai is devastated. Cue angst, and Sizhuai eventually tracking Jingyi down and reconciliation. Unfortunately I can't remember this fanfic title and I would love to reread it. @andyousaidtruelovedidntexsist

FOUND? Give Me A Reason by useless_slytherclaw (M, 25k, ZhuiYi, LSZ & LWJ & WWX, Junior Quartet, Angst with a Happy Ending, Heavy Angst, Friends to Lovers, Post-Canon, Canon Compliant, Mutual Pining, Minor WangXian, Minor JL/OYZZ, Aged-Up Character(s), Grief/Mourning, PTSD, Dreams and Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Rogue Cultivator LJY, Family Feels, Demisexual LJY, Injury Recovery, Love Confessions)

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#wangxian #mdzs #wangxian fic finder #wangxian fic search #the untamed #wangxianficfinder #long post

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bratshaws · 2 years ago

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through the hourglass 12. brb x oc

i love finding new gifs in the tag

a/n: sometimes being an author is good because you know whats to come.......then you remember you have to create the buildup and that's a pain in the b u t t (feedback is welcome and appreciated thank uuuu <3333333 )

pairing: plus size!oc x rooster

warnings: fluff,rooster being the best husband to ever exist ( he's a simp your honor)

goodness gracious (pls read this one to know more what this fic is about!!)

chapter

1/2/3/4/5/6/7/8/9/10/11

(pls let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!! )

taglist: @mirandastuckinthe80s @roosterschanelslut @wiipes @lcahwriter @shrimping-for-all @gretagerwigsmuse @frenchtoastix

@lizzie-rdj @fanboyluvr @atarmychick007 @comebacktoearthpls

@peachiicherries @mak-32 @lizziespidiepridie @roosterswifey @ollyoxenfrees @piceous21 @sqrlgrl22 @hofficoffi @lexhalstead3 @lorilane33 @legendarydreamersharkparty @luckyladycreator2

@emilybradshaw @j-6o @louisahale @leobabbyyy @kulicny @winter-run @ktjmac @graciereads @bigpoppajes @taytaylala12

@caitsymichelle13 @becks-things

“You know there was a girl in there that reminded me a lot of myself.”

Rooster unlocks the car but looks up at Beatrice when she says it, standing a few feet away in the empty parking area with her arms crossed over her bust “Yeah?” She nods in agreement, walking closer to her husband so she’d seep a bit of his warmth. “How so?”

Beatrice chewed on her lower lip, leaning away from him a bit to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear “The first time I came to the Hard Deck I was so…uncomfortable. Shells invited me, but I felt so out of place.” She explains quietly, keeping her arms crossed “It was hard at first, but…you know, over time it got better because I had amazing people that made me feel welcome, like Shells and Penny.”

“You never told me that.”

She just offers him an apologetic look, “It was…four years ago since I first stepped foot in the Hard Deck and I’ve been coming here ever since before getting the job.” she thanks Rooster when he opens the door for her, waiting until he sat behind the wheel but didn’t turn on the car, he just looked over at her in hopes she’d continue, “...yeah, so…it was just a few months after I met Shells, no it was the first month after I met Shells that she brought me over. I was terrified, I’ve never been in a military bar before so I felt so…odd.”

But she’s smiling as she reminisces, “But it was really fun, if it wasn’t for Penny and Shells I didn’t think I’d be so comfortable there as I am now.”

Bradley smiles back at her, one of his hands resting on top of the steering wheel, “But?”

“...but seeing that girl there made me think…about everything. She’s from Northride too, they all were but I don’t think they are good friends for her.” she whispers, “I don’t know, it just…made me rethink so much. I’m very thankful for everything that happened in my life, Roos, I really am, it just brought me thoughts of what could’ve been.”

Rooster leaned back on his seat, with his arms still resting on the steering wheel while his opposite hand sat on top of his thigh, watching Beatrice’s eyes move away from him to look out the window to the empty dark parking lot. She always mentioned she was thankful, the subtle veil of disbelief still on her voice, coming up every now and again. He could understand why she’d speak like that when seeing someone that reminded her of herself before they met. “If she shows up again, I think I’ll try to make her feel more comfortable at the bar. Just like Shells did to me.”

The corner of his mouth lifted into a grin and the hand on his thigh raised just to touch her cheek with the pad of his thumb, the subtle touch making Beatrice blink her eyes at him, “You are too sweet for this world.” her cheeks warm under his touch and her smile widens, “I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”

“I hope so, I don’t want to appear like I’m intruding or something.” he drops the hand from her cheek to finally turn the car on and drive away from the Hard Deck, Beatrice’s eyes returning to look at the outside with her hands folded on her legs, “Her friends…were really dumb.”

“They were what,twenty one? We all are dumb at that age.”

“Were you?”

He chuckles, “Not that much.” he says, keeping his eyes on the road, seeing some houses already had Halloween decorations even though it is not the end of the month yet, “I had my moments.”

Beatrice hums, her own lips quirking up in a smile, “Well, I forgive you because I love you a lot.” he lets out a quiet ‘thank you’ looking very proud of himself “But I’m serious, maybe she just needs…a little push to get better. Hopefully she won’t get nervous about coming to the bar again.”

“I hope so, gorgeous.” he says sweetly, letting go of the wheel briefly to scratch his jawline, then resting his chin on his palm as his elbow supported his weight against the window, “But there were a lot of people at the bar, huh?” She agrees, “I think some of them are new recruits.”

“Oh?”

“Yea I’ve seen some new faces at the base earlier,” he explains, “I have a feeling Penny will have a boost in sales for the coming weeks.��

Beatrice smiles after that, leaning back against her seat and then looking out the window for a brief while, “Brad,” he makes a sound of acknowledgement, “What is this mission of yours? Can you share something with me?”

Her husband’s smile falters, brown eyes swiftly moving to Beatrice before looking away, “I can’t tell much, gorgeous.” he begins, “We’ll have contact, at least once a month and I’ll be away for about…four months. It won’t be a long course, so there’s that.” he explains “Which I’m thankful for, a whole lot.”

“It’ll go by soon.” she reassures him, holding his hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel as they got to their garage, Beatrice’s eyes moving to the mirrors out of habit to check the surroundings “So you’ll be back before my birthday, basically?”

“I think so, baby.” he tosses her a grin, “We should figure out how to celebrate it again, I’ll have to make it bigger than last time.’ she was still warm inside because of the karaoke night with her siblings and friends - and punching Eric on the nose - “So I’ll think of something while I’m away.”

Beatrice laughs softly once they finally enter the garage, stepping out first after slinging her bag strap over her shoulder, walking around the car to meet Rooster on the opposite side - the sound of Jolene’s nails clicking on the floorboards signaled that the pittie was already aware they were back.

After a short greeting to the pittie, Beatrice tossed her bag on the hanger, running her fingers through her hair as she looked around her house with her eyebrows low. She couldn’t stop thinking about that girl and her “friends” and especially how that one girl tried to hit on Rooster! Okay, she was new and had no idea who they were exactly but that doesn’t mean anything, he has a wedding ring on his finger therefore he shouldn’t be considered an option.

The fact this happened more than once made Beatrice frown without noticing and she was trying to not let the dark thoughts win this round. She was good enough for Rooster, he wouldn’t have married her if that wasn’t the case! Beatrice chews her lower lip, standing in the living room close to the couch as Rooster disappears into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water, only walking out and seeing she remained in the same position.

He took a few sips to wet his throat before stepping past a zooming Jolene and coming up to Bea from behind, his wife didn’t even jump when she felt his arms around her waist “What’s got you thinking, gorgeous? The girl?” He asks with his chin on her shoulder and eyes closing.

“…yeah.” She knew he was referring to the other one but Beatrice could only remember the one who tried to hit on him instead. It was bothering her so much she eventually broke the silence about it “Are we that odd of a couple?” Bradley opens his eyes, then furrows his eyebrows before lifting his head to give her a weird look. “It’s because sometimes people don’t seem to get that well, we like each other and proceed to think we are just….friends that kiss or something.”

While that question was odd, he had to admit that way too many people thought that Beatrice wasn’t his girlfriend or his wife, only calling her his friend even if they’ve been seen kissing and being more than romantic. It annoyed him a lot because he loved her and the fact people didn’t seem to grasp that concept was so annoying to him. “I think people are just stupid, Bea.” He tells her after a few seconds of silence, offering her a shrug soon after “I honestly just think that’s the actual reason,you know? Because I love you a lot,” he kisses her cheek after he says that “And if people don’t get that I can gladly show them how much.”

“Thank you,Roos.” She whispers, touching his cheek “ I guess it’s the old mindset that makes people feel so…I don’t know, dumb.”

“Which has been proven time and time again, gorgeous.” He smiles, grabbing her hand and spinning her in the middle of the living room, the movement making Beatrice giggle in surprise “And we just have to learn how to deal with them.”

Her eyes move to his when he stills her body, her cheeks a soft shade of red “You are right.” She grins, leaning closer to kiss his lips with her hand on his chest “Thank you Roos.”

“You are more than welcome, baby. Now come on, I think we should eat something because I’m starving.”

She wakes up in the middle of the night to the room in complete darkness, Rooster’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind and his soft breathing hitting the back of her neck. Beatrice blinks as she suddenly feels she can no longer sleep, as if someone wiped whatever fatigue was in her body with a hand.

She stays there, with her cheek pressed against the pillow hearing the silence of their house - partially broken by Rooster’s quiet snoring and Jolene’s nails clicking below them as she went to the kitchen for a drink of water- and eyes directed to their bathroom’s door. She tried fluttering her eyes closed, trying pushing her head deeper into the pillow or wrapped Rooster’s arm tighter around her in hopes she’d fall back asleep…but it didn’t happen.

Beatrice opened her eyes once more, huffing quietly, trying to count sheep under her breath, if not sheep then llamas, if not llamas then F-18s but nothing was working. She couldn’t understand why, she was pretty exhausted from working and yet now she felt like she had to get up and do something. So she decided to make herself some tea in hopes it’d help her go back to sleep.

Getting Rooster’s arm from around her was a bit difficult, but her husband just grumbled in his sleep and let his arm drop to the side, which gave Beatrice enough room to get out of the bed. She was quiet as she walked out the door, running her fingers through her hair and making her way to the kitchen.

Jolene’s head lifted from the couch, watching her owner march barefoot towards the open kitchen and turning on the light, before she tried - quietly - to grab herself a mug and some chamomile tea, before setting the electric kettle to start. Beatrice groaned, rubbing her hands up and down her face, trying to understand what happened that made her lose all her sleep.

She wasn’t anxious, what happened at the bar with the girl was no longer in her mind because Rooster always had a way of calming her stupid insecurities. She wasn’t worried about work, nor about her family…then what happened? With nothing popping in her mind, Beatrice sighed, thinking that maybe she just naturally lost sleep and the tea would definitely help her get back.

And since she didn’t want to turn on the tv and wake Rooster, she decided that she could draw something in the kitchen while having her tea, that could help her get back to sleep,right? “Right.” she answers her thoughts, leaving the kitchen to enter her art room, rummaging through some papers and her mechanical pencil to doodle on while waiting for her tea.

She gets back to the kitchen, smiling at Jolene who was now lying under the table with her sock monkey under her jaw, “Hi, Jojo, did you lose sleep too?” the pittie’s response was a slow blinking meaning that unlike Beatrice, Jolene was tired and would probably fall asleep while keeping her company.

Beatrice sits back down on the chair, keeping an eye on the electric kettle before she taps the lead of her mechanical pencil on the paper while supporting her head with her opposite hand, “Hmmm…” she keeps on tapping, hoping to come up with an idea, but when she doesn’t she repeats the studies she used to do back in college whenever she had an art block.

Squiggles and spirals.

Also known as the ‘loose wrist technique’ where you let your hand guide itself while drawing, not thinking of anything else until suddenly you see a face or a shape you can draw between the many lines you drew. Beatrice did that once, twice, three times until the paper was completely filled with the random lines.

She looks down at it, narrowing her eyes when she thinks she sees what she could only assume would be a duck, so she overlines it to give more contrast to the paper. When her tea is ready she just fills a mug then returns to the paper, tapping her feet in a rhythm that reminded her of a random song playing in the jukebox at the bar earlier that night.

She takes pauses between drawings to sip on her tea, humming to herself before she continues drawing. She smiles while looking down at the paper, seeing tiny forest creatures coming into view, with trees and a lake, maybe some mountains…

Beatrice’s smile falters for a second, the hand holding her head up drops to the table as she looks down at it for a couple more seconds. She then stands up, picking the drawings in one hand and her mug in the other, gently pulling the chair back so she wouldn’t make much noise - Jolene opening one of her eyes to see Beatrice leaving the kitchen - walking up the stairs in the same quiet pattern from before.

She bites her mechanical pencil so she could turn the light on in the blank room, pushing the door behind her so the sudden luminosity wouldn’t wake Rooster up, being extra careful with her steps to make sure her husband would still be asleep when she was done. She slowly sits on her knees, setting the papers by her side before she leans closer to the wall, the tip of her mechanical pencil gently scratching the white plaster.

Beatrice adjusts her position a few more times when her knees are screaming because of the strain, sometimes lying on her stomach, the other times sitting with her legs crossed, taking more sips of her tea with her eyes locked on the wall. A triangle here, a circle there, another triangle with tinier triangles inside. It wasn’t perfect, it wouldn’t be perfect because it was just the sketch but she was liking what was happening.

Jolene’s huge head peeks from the door, the pittie pushing herself into the room with her sock monkey inside her mouth, slowly trotting to the center of the room where she lies down with her head directed towards the brunette. She was close enough for Beatrice to stretch her arm back and gently scratch her fur.

What Beatrice didn’t know however was that time goes by fast when you are busy with something else and when Rooster tapped the side of the bed to feel the sheets were cold, he blinked his eyes open to the dark room just like his wife did minutes before.

He stays in bed, looking straight at the bathroom’s door thinking he’d see Beatrice show up there any second now, but she does not and his brows furrow. He pushes himself on his elbow, running his hand over his face, “Bea?” his voice is so hoarse he has to clear his throat before trying again, “Babe?”

He could hear a soft scratching noise coming from the room right in front of theirs and a sliver of light appearing on the hallway as he sits on the bed and has better vision of their bedroom door. He stares at it for a couple seconds, narrowing his eyes, trying to figure out if it’s the sleep hallucinations kicking in or if there was actual luminosity coming from there.

He picks up his watch from the nightstand, pressing the button on the side of light up the small visor, “...two in the morning.” he groans, rubbing his face again, but he couldn’t complain, he’d wake up around this time at night to use the bathroom or drink some water if need be so it wouldn’t disrupt his sleeping schedule so much.

He does go to the bathroom and after washing his hands he slowly treks his way to the blank room - or baby room, should he call it the baby room already? - seeing that the door was open just a creak all he had to do was push it open just a bit more. He could see Jolene’s head looking at him, before she cranes it back to the opposite end of the room, to where he couldn’t see yet, “Bea?” he calls again, this time opening the door fully and stepping inside, “What are you–”

He stops mid question, widening his eyes when he sees what was going on. Beatrice, somehow, drew an entire forest scene on the walls. A whole forest. She had her back to him, busy on adding leaves in the flower bush she was drawing with her body partially tilted to the left almost as if she wanted to follow the lines herself. Rooster’s mouth parted open the more he looked, there was a small fox seated on a rock to his left with several trees, a family of bears that went from one side of the window to the other and behind him he could see a few rabbits eating berries.

It was all pencil, there was no color but it was amazing already. He turns to look at Beatrice, tilting his head just like she was so he could see what this part of the room would have and he smiled sweetly once he figured it out: ducks on a pond, with one of them having only the tail up.

He looks back down at Beatrice, the empty mug by her side and her sleeping shorts riding up her buttcheeks as she stretches herself further, almost lying down on her side. Has she really not noticed him there? Bradley smiles even more, slowly approaching his wife, leaning over to touch her arm, “Bea.” she jumps a bit, the sudden movement making her drop the mechanical pencil to the floor and crack the thin lead.

Her wide eyes turn to him, with her lips parting in surprise, “Roos! I–” she then frowns, groaning, “Oh no, what time is it?”

“It’s two in the morning, gorgeous.”

“Two in the– shit.” she groans again, pushing herself to a seated position and frowning when she hears some of her joints pop, “I’ve been here for forty- five minutes, gosh dang it.”

“What are you doing up, though?” he crouches next to her, gently tucking a strand of brown hair behind her ear, “Did something happen?”

“Oh, no I just lost sleep.” she explains, “I went to make myself tea and I decided that since I was having tea I could draw something while I waited, just until the sleep came…and now I’m here.”

Rooster smiles at her response, his eyes moving around the whole room with amazement, “You’ve decided to draw on the walls?”

“Yes…oh God, did I wake you?? I–”

“No,” he chuckled, ‘No, you didn’t. You know I wake up around this time to get some water or use the bathroom, pretty girl….but I did miss your warmth while on the bed and got confused.” he looks up at the duck pond again, his smile widening, “It looks amazing.”

Beatrice’s eyes softened, turning her head to the duck pond just like he was, her little smile getting wider and her cheeks getting red, “You think so?” he nods, “I…I don’t know I felt…really inspired.”

“Well, we did talk about making it a forest room.”

Her eyes dropped to her hands and her smile faltered a bit as she wrung her hands together, “Am I being too quick?” she questions quietly “I mean…there’s no baby yet.” she whispers, almost feeling ashamed of doing this, “I just…I don’t know, I don’t want to be–”

“Too much too soon?” He repeats her words from days before with his smile turning wistful. Beatrice smiles embarrassedly and Rooster lowers his legs to the ground, pushing himself to sit beside her against the only blank part that was left of the wall. He holds up a hand, palm directed at her and she places her smaller hand in his,interlacing their fingers, “I think it’s great.” he begins, rubbing the side of her hand with his thumb, “I mean, there’s not baby yet but there will be a baby soon…we are trying a lot.” cue to Beatrice’s embarrassed little laugh, “And…hey, it’ll be ready for when the baby does come. You don’t have to finish this whole thing now, keep it as the sketch then when it’s time you can paint over it.”

Beatrice’s worried frown melted into a grateful expression, her smile returning with full force as she took in his words. He’s completely right, just because it’s there it doesn’t mean they should worry about that now…it’ll be done when it has to be done, “...you are right.” she whispers, then sighs as she leans her back to hit the wall, pursing her lips a bit, “...I really liked the bears.” she gestures vaguely to the family walking across the window, “I based on the black bear I saw in that book when we went to Virginia.”

His heart was going to explode.

Bradley just looked at her like she was the sun and he was Icarus ready to die on it, “...you are so fucking cute.” she smiles at him, “God, you are so fucking cute and if it wasn’t so late at night I’d make out with you right now.” Beatrice giggles, but her laughter is broken by a soft yawn, the first one of the night since she woke up, “Time for bed, ma’am.”

“Yeah I– Rooster!” she laughs tiredly when he just picks her up so her legs are around his waist and his hands on her butt, her cheek resting on the curve of his shoulder, “I need to take the mug back down.”

“Nah, that can wait, come on Jojo.” he whistles softly for the pitbull to follow them outside, turning off the light in the room with a flick of his finger, “It ain’t goin’ anywhere.”

#bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x oc #top gun maverick #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw x named reader

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hanmi-xo · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 3: “Curiosity of Ambiguity”

| Between Us | Chapter List |

Previous | Next ------------------

| L I H U A |

It’s been a few days since the I went to the museum with the others, but that painting was hard for me to forget. I didn’t take any photos of my old artworks before selling them off, and I wish I did.

I laid in my bed and stared at my ceiling. My dog slept peacefully next to me. His soft snores were ambience.

My thoughts were interrupted by a notification. It was someone who I didn’t think would reach out to me.

I didn’t bother messaging him back.

I saw him at the reunion, but I didn’t speak to him. He made multiple attempts trying to speak about the matter, and when he did, his best friend Jeonghan was right behind him.

Jeonghan was Astrid’s ex who pretended to be something he wasn’t. Behind that pretty face and sweet words, he was a massive manipulator and was two faced. He was the devil that caused chaos wherever he went. He always seemed to find joy in putting others down.

He was the cause of Joshua breaking up with me.

And he antagonized Seungcheol about Astrid at the reunion.

I guess seeing his ex-best friend with his ex-girlfriend triggered him. Maybe it was jealousy? Or possessiveness? Maybe both?

I’m not sure.

I just remember Astrid crying and Seungcheol being held back by her. He was fuming, ready to fight. And before things could escalate, Astrid and I told them that it would be best to just go.

It was clear Jeonghan wouldn’t stop, and Joshua was there to witness it all, and he hardly did anything about it.

Joshua always let his friend cause problems. It was like he was blinded by their friendship to know what was right and wrong.

The reunion was just horrible.

I even went to the balcony to avoid it all. I had to take a breather. Seeing those two was like seeing a ghost.

Now he’s here again.

Reaching out to me to fix what happened years before. But I didn’t want to deal with him right now.

I didn’t need him ruining my mood. Today’s an important occasion.

I won’t let him ruin it.

---

| M I N G H A O |

I rubbed my eyes and glared at Dokyeom’s message. What the hell is he on?

It’s my day off and now I have to pick up Lihua from the cemetery?

What kind of request is this?

I rolled over to my back and I began to look for the chat Dokyeom put me in with his sister. That was the only way I’d be able to contact her.

I was still drowsy and it took awhile for me to find her name.

The last time I personally messaged a woman that wasn’t my mother was like 3 years ago. Was I supposed to be polite to Lihua? Greeting her or whatever?

Nah.

She’s Dokyeom’s sister.

Knowing Dokyeom, he’ll be upset if I leave her. I don’t need him nagging me later if he finds out she went home by herself.

I sighed.

She texts just like Dokyeom… why do they always use that dumb face?

I dragged myself off my bed. I have to go get my keys and pick up that girl.

Cemetery…

Now that I think about it, why would she be at the cemetery?

I pulled down my sunglasses and looked out of my passenger window. There she stood patiently in front of the cemetery entrance with a dog by her side.

The sun was shining brightly during this nice weather, and it was easy to spot her in the sunlight.

Lihua looked at me with confusion once I pulled up towards her. She had a picnic basket in her hands and she seemed to be dressed decently.

She wore a white lettuce trim dress along with her usual white sneakers. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail with some of her bangs falling out to frame her face. A camera was hung around her neck from its sling. She had a small leather backpack on, and next to her was a black Shiba Inu that she held with a red leash. It wagged its tail at me with excitement.

She looked like she went on private trip. But why at the cemetery? She seemed too well dressed for the occasion.

She looked at me with a perplexed look until I pointed at the door to come inside. There’s no way I’m going to open the front door for her. She has hands. She can do it herself.

I watched her pick up the dog with one of her hands while she struggled opening the door. Her hands were full, and her dog was getting excited. He wouldn’t sit still in her arms.

I sighed. I don’t have all day.

I got out of my car and came to her side. Lihua stared at me while I opened the door for her. Her dog moved around in her arms and looked at me too. It barked and I ignored it.

I motioned her to enter my vehicle.

“Get in,” I tell her, slightly annoyed.

She bowed her head a bit at me and situated herself within my car.

“Thank you,” she whispered to me.

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” I shut the door.

I got back in my driver seat and left the premises. She was quiet while her dog moved around in her lap. It was trying to stick its head out of the window.

“Senko,” she whispers to her dog. “No. This isn’t Dokyeom’s car.”

She tried to calm her pet who seemed very energetic. It was hard to ignore the dog’s panting with the follow of soft barks. I can hear Lihua hushing the dog and in return it would whimper and bark louder.

I reached a stop light and stared at the two. The dog wasn’t going to calm down.

I began to pull the window down further down so the dog would shut up.

I watched Lihua look at me with wide eyes before looking back at her dog who quickly stuck out its head.

It looked at me with its tongue sticking out as if it was thanking me.

Lihua looked at me as well before saying, “Thank you.”

She was overly polite and it felt weird. I appreciate her manners and all that, but I’m not used to it. I felt myself stiffen.

“What’s the dog’s name.” I decide to ask since it kept looking at me like I was some fascinating thing.

She tilted her head at me as if she was surprised by my question. She began to pet her dog.

“Senko,” she says. “His name is Senko.”

I saw a subtle smile plaster on her apathetic face. She had a soft spot for her dog. It was easy to see.

Senko looked at her with his tongue out before looking back outside the window. His paws would go up and down with excitement. He was super energetic.

He reminded me of a certain someone…

“I’m sorry,” Lihua suddenly says towards me. She continued to pet her dog while she spoke.

I raised a brow at her. Why was she apologizing?

“I usually ride the bus or get driven around by others. I didn’t think my brother would bother you,” she explained.

The light turned green and I pressed the gas. My eyes remained on the road but some of my attention was on her. I didn’t like how she sounded like she was telling me some sob story.

“It’s whatever,” I tell her. “Besides, your brother didn’t know who to bother anyways. I’m assuming he was going to pick you up or something but he had an urgent meeting with his agent.”

I heard her hum beside me.

“Yeah,” she said. Her voice was almost low as a whisper. “He wanted to take me out and eat since he’ll be leaving town next month.”

I heard her sigh beside me.

“He’s always been kind to me,” her voice was light with affection but a hint of guilt.

I’m not sure what was going on with her, and I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to ask. But I was curious about something…

“Why didn’t Dokyeom go to the cemetery with you?” I say aloud. “That doesn’t seem like him to just leave a girl, much less family, alone.”

There was a moment of silence between us, and I took the chance to glance at her before looking back at the road. She seemed to be thinking of something- almost the state of daydreaming.

“Yeah,” she says. “He doesn’t normally do that. But today was a special occasion.

Special occasion?

“And that is?” I dare ask.

“My mother’s birthday.”

I hit the breaks on my car upon reaching another red light. I felt my car jerk upon my sudden action.

Did I hear that right?

I turned to look at her. My brows were narrowed. She seemed taken back from my anger that was about to come out.

“Why didn’t Dokyeom go?” I ask her. “Does he not care about his mom!?”

My voice came out rather loud and rude, but it bothered me that Dokyeom wasn’t around to celebrate his mother’s birthday. When did she even die? It’s only been over a week since the high school reunion when he mentioned his mom.

Senko stared at me for yelling, and began to bark at me.

Lihua quickly hushed her protective pup and calmed him down before looking at me.

“That’s because that’s not his mom,” Lihua tells me. Her voice was careful yet light.

My eyes widened from her words.

What was that supposed to mean? Are they not siblings?

“Wait.” I said. I was trying to put this all together. “Are Dokyeom and you even siblings?”

There’s no way I just drove some random chick around with her overly excited dog. I refuse to believe that.

Is that why they don’t look alike? Dokyeom and her?

I should have known from the start. They act nothing alike nor do they carry any similar features.

Lihua seemed startled from my question about her and Dokyeom, but then her eyes twinkled and her lips curled up. It was like I said something she was waiting to hear.

“His mom adopted me in middle school,” she says while petting Senko. “My mom’s best friend is his mom, and when you put two and two together…”

Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t speak more about the topic. She didn’t sob or even shed a tear.

But she just smiled while she sat there with a pitiful look.

I hate seeing girls cry. It always makes me feel like I’m obligated to do something. And if I do something, I can be considered a creep and they take it as flirting, but if I don’t do anything then I’m an asshole.

I rather be considered an asshole than for a girl to think I’d like her.

I heard Lihua sigh.

She turned her head to look at me, and her calm nature remained. Not even teary eyes was shown. Although she seemed down, she gave me a soft smile. It looked endearing but not too affectionate. It was like she was telling me that she’s okay even if she wasn’t.

“But yeah,” she suddenly says. She was trying to lift the mood. “Dokyeom and I are adoptive siblings… He didn’t come with me because he believed the occasion should be between actually family members. He’s always been courteous over my mom. It’s nice to have a brother like him. Sometimes I wish he was my real brother…”

Her brown orbs wondered away from me. Her attention went to her dog that yawned before laying down in her lap. She petted him while he tried to sleep.

It was odd knowing that I held a conversation with this girl. She seemed calm and level headed yet endearing.

I didn’t like how nice she seemed. I’m not used to it.

“The light’s green,” she tells me.

I looked back at the road in front of me and saw the go signal. I quickly pressed the gas again. Hopefully she didn’t think I was staring at her.

I was just analyzing her. That’s all.

“Minghao,” I heard her call for me.

I didn’t like how she said my name. It sounded too kind.

“What,” I respond with my eyes on the road.

“You’re not so bad,” she says.

I scoffed.

I knew where this was going to go. She’s going to compliment me then try to hit on me and then play that innocent girl act. I’ve experience before, too many times.

“Listen-“

“Thank you for dealing with my brother and his antics.”

She cut me off before I could express my dislike towards her. The compliment took me off guard. She seemed more glad to know her brother had a friend like me, then complimenting me over all.

It was odd.

I mean, he is her brother. So it would make sense for her to care about Dokyeom…

“It’s whatever…” my voice trailed off. I didn’t know how to respond to her.

After that, she remained quiet for the rest of the ride. There was silence between us, but it wasn’t awkward nor stiffening.

It was surprisingly peaceful.

When I reached her house, I noticed how her eyes were stuck on her phone. There were notifications alerting her and she ended up muting her device.

I could even hear her sigh. She seemed bothered by something.

I didn’t want to ask her about her personal business since I’m not that interested in her life, but she was getting spammed like crazy and it was hard to ignore the alerts.

Was she alright?

Lihua looked up towards her house before meeting my eyes. The sunlight reflected off her leaving a glow that seemed a bit unreal.

“Thank you,” she tells me. Her voice was soft yet clear.

Her smile was gentle yet careful. It bothered me how she looked like that. Much more on how she seemed almost like an angel.

I quickly looked away from her.

I must be seeing things.

I heard her shuffle around with her basket and bag before I decided to turn back around to look at her. I watched as she began to get out of the car while she carried her sleeping pup and picnic basket. She struggled at first, and I was ready to get out and help her, but she stopped me.

“I got it,” she tells me. Her voice remained light as before.

I hesitantly stayed in my seat and watched as she got out of the vehicle swiftly before shutting the door. She looked at me through the passenger window and bowed politely.

Her hair bounced gently as she walked. The breeze made some of her strands fly up and down and she had to move some out of her face so she can find her keys.

I watched her wave at me before entering her home.

She was gone.

I stared at the seat next to me, where Lihua once was. Her faint scent lingered in the air. It smelled like sweet whisky with its sense of earthy and sweet essence.

I narrowed my brows and pulled down the window to let her trace leave my car. I don’t need her scent filling my lungs.

After I pulled the window down to air out her trace, I got a notification. It was from Lihua.

I didn’t respond. Or rather, I didn’t know what to say.

I left her messages on read.

And somehow I couldn’t help but be bothered by her text. I don’t know why, but I did.

I guess a part of me doesn’t believe she’s that terrible to be around, but I also didn’t want to think about having a request like this happen again.

She’s Dokyeom’s sister. I should have an ill views of her, but I also shouldn’t be seeing her like this…

She was gently and ambiguous. Calm yet careful.

She was… odd.

Maybe it’s because she isn’t overly talkative, nor obnoxious, but it also bothers me how she seems too nice of a girl to exist.

The memory of what happened earlier this week came to mind. Dokyeom said something about her losing her touch in art. I don’t fully remember what he said, but I do recall the way she looked at that one flower painting that came in a day before their visit.

She had a good eye with noticing the only nameless painting within the gallery.

Not to mention, the only one I actually really liked.

She’s strange, but more so reserved. I can’t help but be engrossed by her. Maybe it’s because she’s Dokyeom’s sister.

Her existence is still new to me, and knowing my friend had someone in his life without my notice was strange. Maybe I should pay attention more when Dokyeom talks about a girl…

I scoffed.

“What the hell am I doing?” I mutter to myself, waking to reality.

I started up my car and left the premises like I was supposed to do moments ago. I can still smell her faint scent in my car. I was ready to press the buttons to open the window, but I couldn’t find myself to push the buttons.

Her scent filled me like her ambiguity. She was a mystery that I found myself stuck upon.

She’s Dokyeom’s sister. That’s all she’ll ever be to me.

---

| L I H U A |

Senko slept next to me on my bed. I hugged him while I tried to ignored Joshua’s messages.

He acted as if we could be close again, but it’s been over 4 years. If anything, it made me feel uncomfortable.

I told the girls about his sudden contact, and they too had mixed feeling about him.

I put my phone on my shelving that was connected to my bed frame. I didn’t want to think about him anymore.

I’ll deal with him later when the girls come back.

I sat up and began to look through my bag for my journal. I often wrote in it as a way to remember the events that happen in my life. I usually brought it with me so I can tell my mom how my life was going.

But it wasn’t where I left it.

I quickly dumped everything out onto my bed. But it still hasn’t appeared.

I widened my eye as fear came across me. Did drop it at the cemetery? No, because I remember putting it in my bag. Then I got into Minghao’s car…

“Oh no,” I say aloud before grabbing my phone.

I ran down out of my room and down the stairs to see if he would still be in the driveway, but he wasn’t there.

I felt anxiety crawl up my spine, and my gut twisted in fear of its whereabouts. I had to contact Minghao.

Even if he may not like the idea of me bothering him, I still need my journal.

I bit my lip in fear of what he might say to me. He’s Dokyeom’s friend though. If he’s nice enough to pick me up and drop me off, then maybe he’s nice enough to check if my journal’s in his car?

I quickly opened my phone and messaged him.

I hope he’ll read the message and respond to me. I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose it. I wrote all my thoughts and feelings in there.

I can’t let anyone read it.

---

| M I N G H A O |

I stared at her message with her journal in my hand. To think someone who seemed so careful can be so clumsy?

I kept rereading our messages while I took a sip of water. I made my way out of my kitchen before dropping my body onto my couch. I slouched into the seat while I continued to text her.

“I don’t want you to waste gas.”

Pft.

I know she’s being sincere, but can she be any nicer?

She is probably one of the few people to even consider my own time and money. It's hard for me to believe this girl is even real. Way too nice.

The next time I work? Is she serious?

I looked at my calendar that hung on the kitchen pillar before messaging her.

She's far more expressive through text than in person. I found that to be amusing.

I tossed my phone onto the coffee table before lifting up the journal she so cared about. It looked beat up with its torn edges and stitched cover.

I felt it fall out of my fingers upon tearing from its strings and it fell to the floor with a thud.

"Shit," I say aloud.

I felt my gut twist. I didn't intend to rip it. I was only moving it around with my hand. Lihua is going to be upset.

I grabbed everything off the ground and tried to fix the damage that I've done. There were some photos that fell out along with a few pages, and while I tried to organize everything, I noticed a paper that was different from the others.

It was stained, and its material seemed old.

What surprised me more was what was written. Those were Chinese character strokes.

Why did Lihua have that?

SM Post:

Joshua has posted…

• • •

Previous | Next

#seventeen ff #seventeen fanfic #svt minghao #minghao x oc #svt x oc #seventeen x oc #seventeen minghao #xu minghao #seventeen smau #svt smau #minghao ff

6 notes · View notes

onlyswan · 11 months ago

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what is the lover boi thinking about???👀👀

i would sell my kidney to pet his hair

of course that boi loves to torture his senses joon said it years ago 💀💀

poor bam's sleep and oc's sassiness lol

“these days, there’s something i’ve been thinking of a lot… i’ve been researching here and there, too…” ma boi u sound like 18 year old me trying to convince my parents about my dream since 7 years old to get piercings

YES SHE SO SLAY FOR THAT PROMISE DRIVE SAFE EVERYBODY BTS SAID SAFETY 1ST, SAFETY 2ND COOLNESS 3RD

“yes. because then doesn’t that mean you no longer care about me?” they are so in love im shitting tears

your outspoken interest makes jungkook’s face light up like a christmas tree. ma parents thought i couldnt smile more bigger until the day of piercing, they still laugh about it

“why me?!” i can imagine his tone and face and im cackling oh god WHAT IF GET BORABIKE??? THEN HE IS RIDING ARMYS HJGTNDRV HCLISCLIU SHUT UP I HATE (love) MY MIND

bend over ... right now BOI SAY WHAT

OMG THE SURPIRSE YEEHAW

“nope!” you reply without a second to spare. “for fashion, i never get cold.” A HOE NEVER GETS COLD SLAYYY BITCH BE HOT AND NEVER GET COLD BE A MATERIAL GIRL AND THE COLD NEVER BOTHERS YOU ANYMORE

hold on this sounds like a possible jingle/ad if a slay clothing line

“how about let’s wear one each?” thats soo cute and FUCKING SMART

the contrast of his black t-shirt with the rainbow makes you crack a smile, reminiscent of the countless memes you’ve seen on the internet YES LIKE HIS BIG BAD STOMPER BOOTS AND CUTE SOCKS OR TOUGH BAG WITH CUTE SPEAKERS, BOX, POUCH LIKE AAAHAHAHAHAHAHA

“why is everyone breaking up all of a sudden?” cuz rose met them IM SORRY I HAD TO LOL

i love the way the man just loses his train of thought, for me i still have the train of thought but the trains get suddenly empty leaving me miming words out or just saying rest of the words lol

brb taking a bath with my lovely date, toaster

your positions are switched before he can comprehend it— you’re now on all fours on top of him. his head is trapped in between your arms and your gold necklace is dangling over his face and you’re straddling his lap and now it’s getting harder to breathe and not picture obscene images that involve you worshipping his body. OHHXHDVZSTV MY CA FUCKING LORD IM NO BETTER THAN HIM mommy, i doubt he can concentrate right now

WHERE WILL MY FIC/BOOK LOVING AND DAYDREAMING ASS GET MY BIKER LOVER

he lifts off the helmet, ruffling his hair to tame it. and as he brushes his stubborn bangs away from his eyes STOP U THIRSTY HOE DONT THINK ABOUT IT *thinks about it and remembers all similar gifs of kook AAAH

oh no she got me worried *sends hugs

oh she was soo worried about him *tears up

THE PUPPY IN THE BASKET AAH oh no they could have done it with bam NO BAM IS TOO BIG AAAH wait he could have but baby bam on bike BUT THEN BIG BAM WILL BE SAD CUZ HE CANT GO ON BIKES ANYMORE 😭😭😭 tiny baby bam with tiny googles and jacket AAAH TOO CUTE IM A PUDDLE

SAY IT MF JUST FUCKING SAY IT PUSSY EVERYONE HE IS A PUSSY * says another big sad pussy 🤡

this was soo lovely and amazing i think this is my new fav aaah take care bye im going to bed now

OHHXHDVZSTV MY CA FUCKING LORD IM NO BETTER THAN HIM mommy, i doubt he can concentrate right now

FUCKDJDJDJJFHF MY FAVORITE PART OF THIS REVIEW. MY WORK HERE IS DONE

the ramblings and reactions to every scene lmao this seriously made my entire day i can’t stop giggling. i fucking love you

ma boi u sound like 18 year old me trying to convince my parents about my dream since 7 years old to get piercings

LMFAOHDKSHDJD LEAVE HIM ALONE HES NERVOUS. but also me when i told my mom i’m movinf out

YES SHE SO SLAY FOR THAT PROMISE DRIVE SAFE EVERYBODY BTS SAID SAFETY 1ST, SAFETY 2ND COOLNESS 3RD

i’m so glad we are on the same page <3

“yes. because then doesn’t that mean you no longer care about me?” they are so in love im shitting tears

same 🥲🥲🥲

STOPPPP UR SO CUTE IM IJBOLINF 😭😭😭 justice for tiny bam and big bam </3

this was soo lovely and amazing i think this is my new fav aaah take care bye im going to bed now

love how you made me laugh then cry at the end 🥹 ahhhh yay i’m so happy it’s your new fav !! love you smmmm !! 💜

#art’s post office ☁️#minusback <3

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thisdreamplace · 2 years ago

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hi. i wish i had the courage to come off anon but im not comfortable with it. but i just had a good cry while scrolling through your blog. thank you. honestly, life has been so sad for years. in 2020, i found out about the law. life has been rough & i just want softness. all of these rules that have been thrown at me do not make me feel good. i’m even afraid to type this at this point bc it may “mess up my manifestation”. but all this forcing is not worth it. does anyone ever stop and say “is all this worth it”? not about being god but all the rules & methods & techniques. does anyone ever want to live in peace? i feel like all of it isn’t peace. at least for me. in my head, god is stress free. but i can’t even wake up or go to sleep without the constant thought of negativity. i wake up “man, my 3d is still this way ugh, let me ignore & force these affirmations down my throat” and repeat the next day. i haven’t enjoy my life for 2 years. is anyone not tired like me??? 😭 it’s all supposed to be simple. i’m not the type to repeat forced affirmation & analyze every damn thing. i just want to eat ice cream & chill. lol. after scrolling through your blog, i see it’s ok. it’s okay to do whatever feels right for me. i hate that i had to see your blog to understand that. i wish i believed in myself the way i believed in others. i was already thinking i should just do my own thing but i didn’t trust it. i had to see a blog say it. 🥲 no more of that tho. i trust me. if we think about it, someone had to discover this law themselves. who’s to say we can’t just come up with something our self. there is no limit. blogs & loa related people don’t resonate with me anymore (no hate at all, i’ve just evolved in some way). i believe the true feeling is what brings you peace within. what truly resonates with me is creating my own thing. so that’s what i’ll do. so this is my official goodbye to the community.

ty beautiful blog that i just so happened to come across a second ago. 😂💞

hi <3

awe anon. tbh i think a lot of people are tired. i think its morseo frightening to let it all go though. the scary thing is once you learn about this law, there is no turning back. there is always that voice bugging you that says, "you caused this, its your fault, change it ! fix it now !" the sort of peace our past ignorance used to bring is no longer an option. we cant forget everything we know. but how can we move forward from here, branching off with all we know now ? its honestly terrifying when you put so much time and energy and faith into this for so long.

its actually very beautiful that this blog gave you a sense of light ! i love that ! this is literally why i love people and interaction and experiences. because we can move forward and grow in such positive ways thanks to the light of someone else ! thats literally so beautiful to me ! its why we are here together !!! omg

i'm glad that youre finally setting urself free. take it moment by moment n be patient with yourself as you find what feels best, and learn what its like to really listen to yourself. i remember during my break how i went throught this process and i told one of my friends it felt like i was literally recovering from addiction. bc thats essentially what its become for many. logging into whatever platform everyday, getting their daily high from all the motivational content and success stories, just to crash again later when the world just isnt seemingly bending to their will like the top accounts promised. its really an addicting doomloop. so take it easy and be okay with wherever you are at a moment.

if u ever feel comfortable to come off anon, i would love to be friends <3 sending all the love and sunshine to u on ur new journey ! xo

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8bitgarden-sys · 4 months ago

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Anyone else think in the last great american dynasty, Bill MIGHT have been the bad guy? Like yeah everyone else, but like… “women with madness,” self hate and internalized ableism, “their men and bad habits” —- UM HOLD ON

“The DOCTOR had TOLD HIM. to SETTLE. DOWN.” But it must’ve been her fault his heart gave out.

Like he, correct me if I’m wrong, knew what his town was like. They knew they’d all blame her when he died and he didn’t care (right? I’m willing to hear other sides! Bc its very possible that he had some kind of addiction or disorder that made things way more complicated than the song had room for! So maybe bad guy isn’t exactly what I’m saying)

But yeah we have an alter, Benji, who (tw for this stanza of abuse (non graphically mentioned) holds most of our what we call “roommate trauma” which was just a specific longish form traumatic event that happened in our life before we even knew we had DID, but HE—Benji—was the host. So he was the one experiencing like pretty much all of the gaslighting and predatory and stuff.

When he listens to this song, he cries. It’s his #1 swiftie song (tied for him specifically w all too well 10 mins if u’ve been following me for even 24 hrs u probably know that) bc of the end. “I had a marvelous time ruining everything.” We say more about that in a swiftie eras themed video essay we did which I’ll link here if ur interested—warning i SERIOUSLY messed up the backing music and it does get very loud at some times. If u think u can handle that and still hear what I’m saying, give it a shot! If u can’t and are still interested in what we said, dm us and we’ll send u the script we read from! But anyway the thing that resonates w us, and Benji the most, the most, is this:

Our “first” experience w tlgad was we were finally in the mood to listen to new music (any other neurodivergents feel me?) and we wanted to try folklore. I didn’t like it at first—and before we continue, I LOVE it now. I have a personal problem I’m working on, if i think something will be very one way and it’s just not it completely turns me off no matter how good it is and I need time to be ready to accept that it wasn’t what I thought, and it will be beautiful.

I listened, two years ago, to tlgad and turned it off at the line “it must’ve been her fault his heart gave out.” (Real life and major character death when it’s not an essential part of a story trigger me, and I wasn’t ready. No one’s fault)

I did ever pick it up again until…

The Eras Tour was added to Disney+. And we just were lucky enough to have it.

And she starts playing it, and i think I remember being like “oh god oh gos oh god its this oje irk it i can do this” but 1) i am SO grateful that this was my first REAL experience w it bc while i love the original one just the same the eras tour one hits different and 2) we cried so many happy tears hearing the end for the first time, and the performance??? How every actress and actor and taylor herself and EVERYONE did so well to make a very vivid story line that I finally got it, I got it, I got it, and it was beautiful.

And finally.

The way Taylor yells it.

“There goes the LOUDEST WOMEN THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN!!!!! 😍🥰💘☀️💃💪

So healing.

Ok i thought this was gonna be a 1-3 stanza paragraph but here it is. Ig what i personally want abt this post is to hear what ppl are personally thinking about (at any detail ur comfortable with, with proper trigger warnings) the song, what it means to help, if it’s helped them?

Anyway, I’ll reblog if i’ve forgotten smth.

#swiftie stuff #did system #taylor swift the last great american dynasty #taylor swift tlgad #taylor tlgad #swiftie nation #the last great american dynasty #ttpd #us #eras #taylor eras #swiftie blog #this was the post i was gonna tag her in #😓#pls… i couldnt have hurt ANOTHER pereon… pls….

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alwastakenofc · 6 months ago

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RANT INCOMING.

WOWIE ZOWIE it’s a good thing that tumblr keeps u logged in for FOREVER bc i would NOT have remembered that this was my username LMFAOOOO.

anyways !!! i’m just here to rant now to see if it’ll still help me like it used to. just scrolled thru all my personal tagged posts and MAN was i going thru it from 2013-2016 LOL. im glad life is better now. different, but better. me and that guy that i posted abt a lot and would rant abt how he was hanging with that girl all the time broke up in 2016 THANK GOD, that was a sick and toxic and abusive relationship that went way longer than it needed to. i moved back home with my parents and got a few years with both of them before they passed away from different circumstances (fuck alcoholism and fuck cancer). now i live with my roomie/friend and she evicted the other roomie we had that was Toxic As Fuck and a literal Man Child so WAHOO! it’s been nice.

i’m going back to college this year i think, and im both so excited and also Terrified to finish. i only have 1-2 semesters left and then i gotta go get an actual CAREER.

being famous never took off, as expected LMFAO. i don’t stream to get popular anymore, it’s just a genuine hobby i enjoy that gives me an excuse to keep playing video games and having fun. but i don’t mind not having a genuine job off of it anymore; probably should’ve attempted streaming when i was posting abt it so much a decade ago, Honestly Probably Would have taken off a bit more and actually had a chance to make money off it BUT alas, i was too lazy and worried abt public perceptions lmfao

i still have that worry abt public perception especially since i now identify as non-binary (she/they). i wish to be perceived as an amorphous blob that moseys through life, ya know? i only keep the “she/her” pronouns bc a) i’m not fully out to Everyone, and b) i just know some ppl are more used to it and i Do Not mind. i would honestly probably say i don’t prefer ANY pronouns, call me he/she/they i just do Not care, but finding ppl that would reference me as “he” while being respectful just is daunting to think abt and i do not care enough, just call me whatever. but don’t perceive me as a woman exclusively ya know LOL. i don’t identify as a woman or man, i have more feminine days and more masculine days but calling myself a woman sincerely just feels … icky and weird LOL idk like i said. AMORPHOUS BLOB SQUAD, RISE! idk how else to explain it LMAO

also discovered asexuality is a thing like 6-7 years ago which has been LIFE CHANGING !! being told you are broken by ur partner for years, being made to feel like something is Wrong with you because you don’t get why everyone is All About Sex and why tf everyone actually Enjoys Sex…. MANNNNN when i discovered asexuality i don’t think ive ever had a moment in my life where i just said “oh my GOD. it’s ME. i GET MYSELF NOW.” (until i fully understood and embraced being nb about 2 years later lmao). idk i just feel so much more confident in myself and it’s great.

hmmmm what else… i guess i had a stint of struggling with alcohol and weed, but have managed to cut it back. currently on week 2 of no smoking, gonna go a couple more weeks then maybe i’ll buy a pen and edibles. NO MORE DABS! wax just Annihilated my tolerance and not even smoking 3 full joints or eating 250mg of edibles could get me high. it was BAD. but that’s what happens when u do Multiple dabs a day, EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. for 5+ years !! sooooooo that’s a thing too now. i try to Only drink on weekends now (and only 2 weekends per month, instead of Every weekend, is the new goal) and know i can’t trust myself to buy alcohol on a weekday and hold it to the weekend, which honestly Go Me for that self reflection and understanding that my brain doesn’t have the ability to Not drink alcohol/do shots if it’s in my fridge lol. well, not yet at least. maybe in a couple months i’ll be able to put some vodka in my fridge on a tuesday and be able to keep it there til the weekend without touching it, but for now i still don’t fully trust myself.

BUT! i’m trying to be healthy! i did get a treadmill and jump rope and even tho ive been neglecting jumping rope (maybe i will today idk maybe not LOL) i do still try to walk on my treadmill at least every other day!! i did a mile walk today and i was So Sweaty lol it’s crazy how outta shape i am but im hoping that cutting down on weed and alcohol helps with that too overall. i miss having abs. i miss not being flabby. i have awful body dysmorphia already bc of my boobs and getting bigger has made Them bigger too and it just makes me feel Horrified when i see myself in the mirror. or see my stomach, or double chin, or jiggly arms, or WHATEVER. i just need to be healthy again UGH. anyways.

MANNNNNNNNN i’m so scared of college LOL. i’m not double majoring anymore (also not even in art college anymore HELLO lmao, i dropped out of art school and got my associates degree from community college then transferred to a university where i was originally double majoring in International Relations and Japanese)! i just am gonna drop my Japanese major down to a minor so i still at least know Some Japanese. and ill study on my own post graduation (I HOPE!!!!!) and get better. i took a 2 year break when my mom died and its just so Daunting to think of going back LOL

i really, really… REALLY need to get better with procrastination and laziness and being at a standstill/comfortable. like, i KNOW there’s more to life but i just. UGH. idk. it’s so Hard after everything that’s happened these last few years. if i didn’t lose my dad in 2018 then my mom in 2022 i think it would be a lot better. HELL, if i didn’t lose my mom to cancer in 2022 things would be SOOOOOO different!! i would’ve probably graduated with my double major and had a kickass job and my mom would’ve seen me walk the stage UGHHHHHHHH ill never forget how i lit said “you prolly won’t see me get married but you gotta stick around to watch me walk the stage” and she said “WHERE ELSE WOULD I GO????” and IDK I JUST WISH I NEVER JINXED IT UGHHHHH. i have a lot of unaddressed trauma from both my parents’ deaths that im sure therapy would definitely help with but FOR NOW, i just gotta get thru college and see wtf is waiting for me on the other side.

ALLLLLRIGHT well this went on a LOT longer than i expected and …… idk if it helped??? idk if i feel any better after typing it all out but MEHHHHHHH. it’s nice to just throw it all out into the ether and not have a ton of questions or assumptions or embarrassment or shame come from feeling like im taking up space. i think that’s been the biggest thing ive struggled with since my mom died; i can’t even post my random thoughts on twitter anymore bc the anxiety of “well who even cares, who would even care about you saying anything, why would you even post at all? what’s the point?” just gets SO damn overwhelming. ive become a COMPLETE recluse and i haven’t done ANYTHING like this rant in at Least half a decade LOL. so. idk.

typing this all out therapeutic in a way but again, i just feel kinda anxious at the same time and idk if it’s really helped me out overall. bc why does anyone care? what’s the point?… but also WHY do i feel like People Need To Care ?!?! why can’t i just go back to my old mindset where i did not give a single fuck about what i posted bc i just liked throwing my thoughts out for everyone to read?!?! idk. maybe tumblr is gonna be the bridge to help me get better with voicing random mundane thoughts that don’t matter in the long run LOL. bc WHY is that so scary to me, man….

ANYWAYS i’m done okay. wowie. what a rant. PHEW.

hope u enjoyed reading about my last 6-7 years 😎

#personal #rant #HELLO AGAIN LMFAO #HELLO MUTHAFUKKA #uhhhhhh i still don’t rly get tags and just kinda add random thoughts to them at the end LMAO #sooooo sorry for the rant !#if u follow me then… disregard this rant LMAO

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euthymiya · 4 months ago

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ok im putting my comments under the cut:

“Wowwww,” an unfortunately familiar voice croons from a nearby table. “Look at those bags. Someone didn’t sleep well last night.”

HE SUCKS LOL

“Genuinely, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

IM CRYING AT THIS SKJDHF

“You remembered.” Dazai stares at you with stars in his eyes, face lighting up. “I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

asjdhf he definitely has low standards. you remember his bday 3 days late and he's like "u know the date!!! ur my soulmate!!!!"

He seems to notice your judgment of him and looks offended

I giggled sdhfg

you find yourself making your way over to him.

This is so funny bc she said she would flee if she ran into him again LOL liarrr

For a second, Dazai looks flustered. You watch as his eyes dart from the chairs and back up to you, the faintest pink hue spreading across his cheeks. His lips part to respond, but no words leave then, and he finally pushes out, “Yes.”

notttt him lying like a loser sdjkhfsd

“I was in an exceptionally good mood,” you amend smugly.

The expression on Dazai’s face is nothing short of bitter and withering. “The next time you’re in a good mood, you should pay for my tuition and rent,” he says snidely. “Well, my next project is a zoo,” you say, and you can tell from the way Dazai’s eyes narrow that he knows he’s not about to like what you’re going to say. “We can fit you in with the rest of the baboons, I suppose. That’ll be your new apartment.” “Haha. Very funny.” “I thought so.”

THIS WHOLE INTERACTION HAD ME GIGGLING

Dazai isn’t particularly liked by the other students in his year—they think he’s odd. Which, he is odd, but they could be more discreet about it.

the good thing is he is self aware HAHA

“Fine,” you say before you can stop yourself, which he clearly doesn’t expect from how his eyes shoot open, and you don’t expect from the way your heart rate spikes as soon as the words register. What the fuck?

omg I was like :O when she said fine

Dazai: hi (＠＾◡＾)

HIS KAOMOJI KILLED ME

Albatross: not ur personal chauffeur 😒 i’m busy

I feel him on a deep and personal level I too am everyone I know's personal driver

“‘s a ten minute drive. I’ll get there in three.”

he is so meeee as a driver hahaha

Two years ago, an organization called the Serpent’s Tongue targeted a girl Chuuya’d been talking to trying to get him to turn himself in—a civilian girl, actually, one that he dragged into this life just like you’re unintentionally doing with Dazai. He turned himself over for her; they killed her anyway, and the whole organization paid for it with their lives. So did all of their families. You don’t think Chuuya’s ever gotten over it.

aw man this made me sooo sad for him :(

Sensing his discomfort, he watches your eyes track down to the bandages peeking over his collar and sleeves, and then you pointedly turn around to face the wall, sighing as you pull out your phone.

this made me clutch my heart it was so oddly sweet in a way awww

Kido slaps his hand to get him to stop when it messes up the measurement of his hips, and Dazai promptly stills. “I prefer free verse. It’s my favorite style of poetry.”

I got a good giggle at the image in my head of him getting his hands sternly slapped kjdfh

Oh. Dazai hesitates, throat bobbing as he swallows, lashes fluttering as he averts his gaze down toward the floor. “My friend… he passed away a few years ago. Right before I was about to enter college, actually. He asked me to finish his book for him—I told him I don’t know anything about writing and that it’ll turn out bad if he had me do it, but he insisted… and I mean, I can’t really say no to my dying best friend, can I?”

eating a rock as we speak. here she comes with her killing everyone off streak. even though this is canon but still

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he’s positively vibrating at your words until Kido lets out a heavy sigh. “Dazai-sama, please stop moving so much.”

he is just a puppyyyyyy

"Cao Xueqin will have him chopped into pieces and send you on a fucking treasure hunt across the city to get all of his limbs together for a proper burial."

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“I’m not you,” you spit out, a low blow, you know. To Chuuya’s credit, he doesn’t react beyond a sharp inhale, nostrils flaring briefly. “No, you’re not,” he agrees. “I wouldn’t be so fucking stupid to make the same mistake twice.”“That was your mistake,” you hiss. “Not mine.”

oh shitttt the girls are fightingggg and its heatedddd

ᡣ𐭩 YOU'RE TOO SWEET FOR ME

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: one chance encounter at a bar and suddenly you're seeing dazai osamu everywhere you go. you must have truly done wrong in your past life for you to run into him at so many places so frequently. you can't let this go on—for his sake and for yours—but the stupid civilian is worming his way into your life, blissfully unaware of who you are and what you do.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: AHHHHHHHH GUYS I HOPE UR EXCITED BECAUSE I AM, i've been obsessing over this literally since the idea first came to me, i'm rlly hoping you guys enjoy this half as much as i've loved writing it. civzai is truly becoming my roman empire. please leave a reblog! always appreciated!

GENERAL WARNINGS: fem!reader, port mafia executive!reader, civilian!dazai, dazai's struggles w suicide & sh, reader partakes in mafia business, dazai isn't dazai without a bit of obsessiveness and possessiveness (the possessiveness doesn't come til later but the obsessiveness starts from day 0).

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

If you had known stopping at some random bar in the southern part of Hodogaya-ku would lead to a fucking college student attaching himself to you like a goddamn leech, then you would have gone to a different bar. You should’ve known better; this area is close to YNU, but you figured it was lowkey enough that most of the college students wouldn’t know about it.

It’s just your luck that the most irritating one just so happened to.

Your eye twitches as you take another sip of your whiskey, pointedly ignoring the brunette who’d made his home on the barstool next to yours. He’s talking about something—an assignment for his creative writing class that you could hardly give half a shit about—and your head hurts. You’d been hoping for a quick drink before having to go back to headquarters and give Mori the rundown on the negotiations with Mishima.

You don’t want to go back. Mori pissed you off by scheduling this meeting without notifying you of it until literally thirty minutes before. But you also think that if you stay here any longer, you might murder this kid—and that’s saying a lot for someone who usually refuses to get her hands dirty.

“... but you see, I just have no inspiration,” the student—he said his name, but you ignored it—complains loudly, slumping over dramatically onto the bartop. “How am I supposed to write with no inspiration? I have no muse, no drive, no will to live. What do I do, bella?”

You side-eye him heavily before turning your attention back toward the bartender, Kobayashi, a man who knows who you are and what you do since this is a place that the lower ranking Mafiosos frequent, and is watching the scene taking place with an expression that’s nothing short of concern. You recognize some of the other bar patrons as well—one is an informant of yours that you’ve been meaning to get in contact with, two of Chuuya’s subordinates are here, and one of Kouyou’s.

“Luckily, I’ve run into you, bella,” the man sighs dreamily, big brown eyes peering up at you from where he’s draped across the bar. “You’ll be my muse, won’t you?”

For the first time since you’ve arrived at the bar, you address him, “I think I would rather die.”

He blinks once. Twice. And then he laughs so loud that it draws half of the patrons’ attention. “Would you allow me to die with you?” he pleads, hands clasped together as he leans in closer to you. “I knew you were the one for me—it could be beautiful, a double suicide on the banks of Tsurumi. I-”

“Okay,” you say more to yourself than him, placing your wine glass on the bar and rising to your feet. “I’m leaving.”

He pushes his lip out as he watches you rise to your feet. You tell Kobayashi to put your drink on your tab before turning on your heel and making your way out of the bar. Much to your extreme displeasure, the student seems to follow you, scrambling after you.

“Wait! Won’t you give me your name? Number?” he cries.

You slam the door to the bar in his face, but he’s unperturbed, yelping and pushing it right back open. You grit your teeth when you realize Albatross is the one who came to pick you up and bring you back to base, which means you’re never going to hear the end of this from him or any of the other Flags. You can already see him peering out the closed window, trying to figure out who’s chasing you.

“No.”

“How will I find you again then?” he laments, and to your horror, he catches up with you, trying to grab your wrist to stop you from leaving. You toss him a flinty look before snatching your wrist back.

“That’s the point.” You smile sweetly. “You won’t.”

You get in the car and slam the door shut, pointedly locking it before turning your attention to Albatross, who’s already chewing on his bottom lip, trying not to laugh.

“So,” he starts with a tone that lets you know you’re very much not going to like whatever he’s about to say.

“Albatross, shut the fuck up.”

Dazai stares after you curiously, watching as you slam the door shut to a car that probably costs more than everything he’s ever owned in his entire life. He doesn’t think he’s ever met someone like you before, and he doesn’t even know what it is about you that’s drawing him in.

You’re beautiful but cold, aloof but magnetic. He hadn’t been the only one affected by your presence—he’d noticed the lingering stares of other men in the bar, the way the bartender always rushed to ensure that your glass was full, hardly able to meet your eyes. Something itches in the back of his head, a gut feeling that maybe he’s missing something, but Dazai disregards it, leaning against the brick wall of the building behind him, tilting his head up to look up at the vast night sky.

He does know one thing for sure, and that’s that he thinks he’s found his muse. After four years of the worst writer’s block he’s had in his life, Dazai’s fingers finally twitch for a pen.

He finds a smile curling onto his lips—a genuine one—and the muscles of his cheeks strain from the unfamiliar stretch.

For the first time since Odasaku’s death, the emptiness that has been endlessly plaguing Dazai’s chest is pushed out by a warmth that he hasn’t experienced in years. Letting out a shaky breath, giddy and excited in a way that leaves a skip in his step, Dazai makes his way back to his apartment rather than the bridge as he planned, intent on trying to figure out a way to find you again.

Maybe another day, Odasaku.

The gods are sick and cruel. You’ve known this since you were a child—seven years old and sitting in the center of piles of corpses after your village got caught in the crossfires of the Great War, rescued by a man who promised to send you right back if you couldn’t prove your worth to him. Your entire life, you feel like you’ve been the laughing stock of whatever higher beings there are, which is why you’re aggrieved but not surprised when that boy from the bar shows back up in your life.

You don’t even notice him at first. You’re exhausted—you’ve spent the past forty-eight hours awake and on comms for Akutagawa Gin and Tachihara Michizou as they infiltrated one of the low-rung gangs trying to move into the northern wards of Yokohama. It took longer for them to get to the leader than you thought it would, you were confident that it would be an in-and-out, less than twelve hours, but here you are two fucking days later, and you can’t even go back to your apartment and sleep because someone is demanding your immediate presence.

You wonder, sometimes, if death would be easier.

A part of you wants to just straight up ignore Mori and go back home to sleep. You personally think you deserve it, considering the mission went off without a single issue besides the unexpected length of it, but you also don’t want to hear the man bitch and make snide comments about insubordination, so you give your coffee order to the barista—your voice a bit too harsh, so you make up for it with a generous tip and then go wait for it at the opposite counter.

“Wowwww,” an unfortunately familiar voice croons from a nearby table. “Look at those bags. Someone didn’t sleep well last night.”

You think maybe death would be easier.

“As if my night couldn’t get any worse,” you say tightly, lips pressed together in a strained smile as you stare ahead, refusing to even turn to look at the irritating college student.

“It’s actually morning,” he says astutely.

“Find someone else to bother.”

He ignores you, naturally, and you let your eyes slide shut as you will yourself some patience when you hear the chair scrape against the ground, signaling him rising to his feet. You keep your gaze trained ahead even as you hear him approach you.

“Do you believe in fate, bella?” he hums, leaning over your shoulder to look at you.

You squint as you stare forward, rushing desperately for the barista to hurry up with your coffee, and you pointedly step away from him. “No.”

Well, you don’t actually know the answer to that question. Do you believe in fate? You don’t think you do. You like the idea of being able to carve out your own future without the meddling hands of gods trying to interfere, but can you really believe that everything in your life that’s happened to you is just by sheer chance? You’re not so sure.

“Well, I believe in fate,” he begins, and you already know you’re not going to like where this is going. “If I didn’t before, I certainly do now. What else could have led me to you again so soon? The red string tied around our fingers is demanding our love to finally bloom; it no longer tolerates the distance between us. My fated, no wonder I’ve evaded death for so long; it refused to embrace me because it knew I belonged in your arms instead!”

You almost don’t even register what he says, blinking a few times as the words process.

“Genuinely, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

You turn to face the brunette, appalled, and he gives you a sweet smile before saying, “You’ll have to be more specific. There’s a lot of things wrong with me.”

“Clearly,” you scoff, shaking your head and taking your coffee from the barista.

You can already feel your phone buzzing incessantly in your pocket. You don’t even have to look to know it’s Mori asking where you are, probably Chuuya bitching about having to cover for you too. You can’t waste any more time lingering around, so without another thought or word, you promptly leave the cafe.

“Hey! Hey, wait!” he calls after you. Much to your displeasure, he scrambles to grab his over-the-shoulder backpack before, much to your displeasure, chasing after you. “My name is Dazai. Dazai Osamu.”

“Did I, at any point, ask?” you ask irritably, making your way down the street in the direction of the headquarters, hoping that he leaves you alone before you get there because the last thing you want to do is get there with him trailing you like a lost puppy. Albatross already saw him following after you once. If he catches the kid around you again, he’s going to start making assumptions, and that’s the last thing you need because he’ll immediately go gossip to Chuuya and Lippmann about it.

“Well, no,” Dazai says, “but won’t you give me your name in return?”

“No,” you say, giving him a smile as equally sweet as the one he gave you before. You roll your eyes as you take a sip of your coffee. “Don’t you have more productive things to do than bother me? Like, I don’t know, finishing that assignment you spent two hours bitching my ear off about a few nights ago?”

“You remembered.” Dazai stares at you with stars in his eyes, face lighting up. “I thought you weren’t paying attention.”

“It’s hard not to pay attention when you’re babbling in my ear,” you say dryly, a bit put off by how surprised and pleased he is over you remembering what he’d been talking about. “Why are you still following me?”

“I want your name,” Dazai pouts, words drawn a bit long as if to make a point, but it only makes your eye twitch. “Your number, if you’re feeling generous.”

“Well, I’m in a decidedly bad mood, so you’re getting neither,” you say, giving him a faux sweet smile that makes him push his lip out even further. “You look ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously cute?”

“No. Ridiculous.”

“Your beauty blinds me to your cruelty,” Dazai sighs dramatically. “I will not be driven away.”

“You should have more self-respect,” you say flatly, giving him yet another facetious smile before letting it drop and giving him a side-eye. You look him over once as you do; he’s dressed casually in a cream sweater and corduroy pants, a brown bag slung over his shoulder. Cute, but sickeningly… civilian. He seems to notice your judgment of him and looks offended—you speak before he can complain. “I have to go to work, so it’s time for you to leave.”

“To work?” Dazai blinks as if he hadn’t expected that from you, brows furrowing. “You look dead on your feet. You should be going home.”

I wish, you think mournfully. Even just the thought of your bed makes your body heavy with exhaustion. You just want to sleep, but Mori won’t even allow you the relief of that. You can’t help but wonder if you pissed him off because you have no idea why he’s being such an asshole. You don’t even think you did anything this time; you disagreed with him at one of the executive meetings last week, but you weren’t even rude while doing it. And you thought your idea was good.

You realize that Dazai is still waiting for a response from you, and you try to recall what he’d said, rolling your eyes when you do.

“Wow, thank you.” Your voice is dry and sarcastic. You give him a withering look that he meets with a stupid smile. “The longer you hold me up, the longer it’ll take for me to get home and sleep, so kindly fuck off.”

Dazai sighs. “The things I do for love,” he says mournfully, stopping in his tracks and giving you a downcast look, brown eyes wide and sad and lips curled down. You’re actually a bit surprised that he gave in, letting out a hum of appreciation—you almost didn’t think he would. “The next time we meet, you have to give me your name.”

“We’re not going to meet again,” you say firmly, and you mean it this time because if you see this guy again, you’re going to flee in the other direction. For his sake and your dignity because it’s only a matter of time before unwelcome eyes catch you with him.

“We will,” he sings. “Fate demands it of us. Goodbye, bella. Have a good day.”

You don’t respond to him when you walk away. Dazai is still undeterred. He’s hardly stopped thinking of you since that night at the bar a few days ago. Every time his mind drifts off, he finds himself picturing your face, longing to talk to you again. He thinks maybe it’s a bit weird for him to be so enamored by you after just two brief meetings, but there’s just something about you that’s drawing him in like a moth to flame.

His eyes linger on you until you turn the block and disappear from view. He’s a bit put out over the fact that he still doesn’t have your name, but he thinks that the meeting is still a win in his eyes. First at the bar, now at this cafe, you must live or work somewhere in the eastern part of the Kanagawa Prefecture—Hodogaya-ku or Minami-ku, maybe Nishi or Naka. He’s leaning toward the latter, considering you’re heading eastward to get to wherever your work is.

And it would make sense. Naka-ku has all of the high-end corporations, and you must work for one of them. Your outfit the other day, your outfit today—not gaudy wealth, but wealth for sure. He thinks the black suits you wear cost more than his tuition, and the rings adorning your fingers cost a liver or three. You can’t be much older than him if you even are, so you’re probably just a nepo-baby—father owns one of the big corps and gave you a high-up position right out of school. Probably never had to work a day in your life, he thinks bitterly of all of the time he’s spent working odd jobs just to afford rent in the area, surviving off cheap ramen and canned crab.

But it’s a bit odd, isn’t it? You look like you haven’t slept in two days, maybe longer. Dazai almost felt bad for badgering you just because of how exhausted you seemed. Dazai can’t imagine any type of business demanding that type of energy from one of its workers—especially a nepo-baby.

Dazai finally shakes his head, glancing down at his phone to see the time, sighing when he realizes it’s time to get to class for his poetry workshop, a bit more pleased because, for the first time since classes started three months ago, he actually has something to give to the professor.

The next time you run into Dazai, you see him first. Despite vehemently telling yourself that you would run in the other direction if you happened upon him again, you find yourself hesitating. You don’t even know why you’re hesitating; you shouldn’t be hesitating.

You’re stopping at one of the libraries at YNU to meet with an informant of yours—the son of the leader of your political opposition in the House of Councillors—all it took was a few sweet words and teasing smiles to have the boy wrapped around your finger, giving you all of the dirty details of his father's dealings for you to use against him when trying to sway the swing votes to your side.

It’s supposed to be an in-and-out meeting, and you don’t want to spend more than 15 minutes in this building if you don’t have to. You still have to meet with one of the oil barons from Venezuela that Mori is trying to get in bed with, and you’re hoping to meet with Mishima before the new military bill passes through the House of Representatives in two months—you suppose you can do that tomorrow, but you’re pretty sure he’s leaving to go deal with some issue with his narcotics trade in western Europe in a few days so you don’t want to leave it to the last minute.

The kid—you don’t even remember his first name, you only know that he’s Kimura’s asshole son, and he cares more about getting his dick wet than the sanctity of family secrets (not that it bothers you considering you’re benefiting from it, but you digress)—is surely already upstairs in one of the private study rooms waiting for you, but your feet are rooted to the ground.

Dazai Osamu sits at one of the study tables in the back, brows furrowed as he reads whatever textbook is in front of him, dressed in a cozy brown sweater. He looks distinctly displeased, tongue poking out between his lips as he scribbles away at his paper—you can’t tell what he’s reading or writing, but it notably does not look like creative writing.

He also looks distinctly lonely. He’s sitting alone at a table meant for four, and there are dozens of groups of students around him, chatting and laughing in their study groups. There are tables for one person lining the walls, so you can’t help but wonder if he chose the larger table specifically to spite the people coming in groups so they have to cram at a smaller table or if he’s meeting people here.

Before you can stop yourself—because you should stop yourself—you find yourself making your way over to him. He doesn’t even notice you at first, not until you’re right in front of the table and peering down at the textbook he’s reading: Intro to Engineering.

“That doesn’t look like creative writing,” you say dryly, lips quirking up in amusement when Dazai physically startles at your appearance, looking up at you with wide eyes and parted lips. Almost cute, if he wasn’t so annoying—you think maybe if he was one of Kouyou’s girls, you might’ve given him a chance.

For a second, Dazai looks as if he’s going to make a quip—you expect a loud comment about fate and love, but instead, his expression softens after a minute as he looks down at his textbook, making you tilt your head to the side curiously at the change in demeanor.

“Intro to Engineering,” he finally says with a wry smile, motioning toward the book. “A required class, much to my extreme displeasure.”

“Sounds terrible,” you say absently, gaze flicking around, noting all of the prying eyes now not-so-discreetly eyeing your table.

You’re used to people staring at you, you have eyes on you pretty much at all times, and a bunch of nobody college students are nothing compared to the eyes of politicians and foreign mafiosos, half of whom want your head piked. Dazai, on the other hand, doesn’t look quite as comfortable beneath the stares of so many of his classmates, which is surprising to you, considering how bold he was with you at the bar and in public the other day.

“Are you meeting people?” you ask curiously, glancing at the empty chairs around him.

A lie. A blatant one at that, and he can tell how poorly it came out from the way he winces. You blink, curious as to why he doesn’t want to admit he’s at the library alone, but then shrug because you don’t really care.

“Why are you here?” You raise your eyebrows at the sheer attitude in the question, almost caught off guard by it. Dazai clearly did not intend for it to come out that way, so he immediately shrinks and then adds too quickly, “You don’t go to school here, I mean.”

“Yeah… okay,” you say dryly, a bit offended, wondering why you even came over here. Dazai looks remorseful at his words but only averts his gaze down to the table. Finally, you sigh, choosing your words carefully because you don’t want him—or anyone—to know you’re meeting someone because if anyone finds out Kimura’s kid is feeding you information, you’d be in a shitty position. Instead, you go with, “I own this building. I come to check on it from time to time.”

Any remorse on Dazai’s face is gone as he stares at you flatly. “You… own this building?”

“I donated the money to have it built, yes,” you say, unsure of why he’s giving you such a deadpan expression.

And it’s the truth: you did it three years ago when you first realized Kimura’s son was attending YNU as a freshman. You needed an excuse to come to campus and ‘run into him,’ so you decided to just have a library built with the reasoning that your deceased father attended the university, and you wanted it in his name.

Did your father attend YNU? You have no idea—hardly even remember the man—but you had Piano Man forge some records to show that he did.

“Why?” Dazai asks.

“I was in a good mood,” you say sarcastically to evade the question.

“You were in a good mood, so you decided to spend hundreds of millions of yen on a library for a university you don’t even attend?” he questions doubtfully.

“I was in an exceptionally good mood,” you amend smugly.

The expression on Dazai’s face is nothing short of bitter and withering. “The next time you’re in a good mood, you should pay for my tuition and rent,” he says snidely.

“Well, my next project is a zoo,” you say, and you can tell from the way Dazai’s eyes narrow that he knows he’s not about to like what you’re going to say. “We can fit you in with the rest of the baboons, I suppose. That’ll be your new apartment.”

“Haha. Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

As you banter, there’s something sharp and calculating in his eyes that you don’t like—you vaguely noticed it in the past two meetings with him but are only really catching it now as he stares steadily at you, trying to figure you out. Which you can’t let happen, obviously, so you give him a faux-sweet smile instead and lift your hand to wave your fingers in a goodbye, preparing to make your leave and go find Kimura’s kid upstairs.

“I have to go,” you say, and then add belatedly, “hope this never happens again.”

Dazai pushes his lip out into a pout reminiscent of the one he gave you the other day outside of the cafe, but his heart doesn’t seem to be in it this time. His eyes are distant as they flick around the vast library again, disappointed almost. Lonely. You don’t know why you’re still standing there and you especially don’t know why you find your lips parting to speak.

You very much don’t know why your name comes out, and when Dazai looks up at you, eyes wide and with a shine in them that wasn’t there before, a question ready on his lips, you almost hesitate. Almost find yourself at a loss for words. Something that hasn’t happened to you in… years, actually.

What the fuck?

You play it off quickly. “You wanted my name, didn’t you?” you drawl, looking down at him unimpressed as if you’re not entirely horrified with yourself right now.

Dazai looks at you as if you’ve handed him the stars, sun, and moon on a silver platter, and you decide it’s time to leave before he can say anything else—more importantly before you can say anything else—lifting your hand lazily to wave at him over your shoulder without looking back.

Once you’re well out of sight—all the way up the stairs leading to the private study rooms with the one-way glass windows looking down into the main section of the library—you finally allow yourself one last look.

Dazai still sits the same exact way you left him, staring at where you’d left with a stupid smile on his face and a starstruck look in his eyes. You roll your eyes, and you firmly choose to ignore the faint smile curving at the corners of your lips.

Your name rings through his head on repeat, a giddy feeling spreading through his chest. His whole body feels light and his fingers thrum across the wood of the table he’s sitting at, unable to stop the smile that rises to his lips. You approached him this time and you gave him your name—progress, good progress. In his exhilaration, he can almost ignore the dozens of curious eyes lingering on him wondering who you were and how you knew Dazai of all people.

He supposes he can’t blame them for being curious—you’re someone who’s clearly not cut from the same cloth as the rest of them; if your clothes didn’t make that apparent enough, the way you hold yourself does. And to approach him… Dazai isn’t particularly liked by the other students in his year—they think he’s odd. Which, he is odd, but they could be more discreet about it.

“Hey, Dazai-kun, who was that?” one of the third-year boys asks, leaning over from his table to try to get Dazai’s attention, intrigued gaze pinned on where you’d disappeared to.

Dazai pointedly does not acknowledge him. Partially because he’s not about to encourage competition, you’re Dazai’s muse, and Dazai is not keen on sharing you, but mostly because he doesn’t even know the answer to that question.

Who are you?

Dazai knew you were wealthy just from the way you dressed, but the way you so casually mentioned that you’d donated the money for this library to be built a few years ago was absurd. You can’t be much older than him, so what? You were eighteen or nineteen, donating hundreds of millions, billions of yen to have a library built? And for what? It doesn’t make sense. Dazai prides himself on his shrewd mind and ability to read people, but he just can’t figure you out.

He must be missing something

He pulls out his phone, clicking on the safari app before hesitating. You only gave him your first name—he doubts that he’ll actually find anything on you, but a part of him holds out hope because you clearly have more money than god, and anyone with that much money must have some heavy sway on politics and society. Rich people have the media following them like dogs looking for a bone.

So, he tries, and he’s sorely disappointed when only websites about name etymology and pronunciation pop up. He sighs as he flips to a new page in his notebook, giving up on trying to figure out these engineering formulas for now.

Instead, he writes your name at the top of the page, tapping his pen to his lips as he tries to figure out who exactly his new muse is.

You don’t see Dazai for two weeks after that. You don’t have the chance to—you’re busy getting ready for the gala the government is hosting to honor some agency based in Tokyo. An excuse so they can gather all of the House Representatives and Councillors in one spot for both sides to advocate for or against the major military bill passing through the National Diet in a month and a half. You’ll be attending to represent the Mori Corporation, as always, and you’re hoping Mishima sends Kiyomasa on behalf of Age of Blue Co., his own front for the Sun and Steel. You think with the two of you taking on the burden of convincing the swing votes, you’ll get it done.

Now, though, you’re in a foul mood because you have to waste time you don’t have out of your day to deal with one of the landlords the Port Mafia is leasing property to. He’s been skimping out on payments owed and, evidently, has grown balls that he certainly shouldn’t have, considering he had the nerve to turn away two of your subordinates when they came to collect. He obviously thinks he can get away with it because it's a low-priority issue compared to all of the other things going on with the military bill and developments in China and Russia with Cao Xueqin and Vladimir Nabokov. You have half a mind to stuff a 24 in his mouth and pull the trigger just to show him how low of a priority he really is.

You might, honestly, depending on his decisions in the next ten minutes.

You get to the complex in Hodogaya-ku half-past six in the morning, wanting to get this done and out of the way well before Tolstoy arrives in the city at ten to meet with you about the rising issues in the mainland. For once, luck seems to be on your side because when Albatross pulls up to the complex, you see Mado on the phone outside, in a heated conversation with someone.

“Have fun,” Albatross sings as you push open the car door to make your way over to the older man.

Mado catches sight of you instantly, eyes widening and pallor taking on a ghastly color as he hangs up on whoever he is talking to so he can take a step back closer to the front doors of the complex. You tilt your head to the side, pointedly shifting your suit jacket so he can catch sight of the gun holstered at your side before hiding it again.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you say with a thin smile as you draw closer.

“You’re-” Mado begins but cuts himself off quickly.

“Mado-kun,” you greet, hands clasped behind your back as you watch the man carefully. “I hear you had an issue with two of my subordinates.”

“I-”

“Or, well, there was no issue because you quite rudely turned them away,” you amend dryly. “I’d love to know your reasoning. I’ve got a few running theories of my own.”

“You misunderstand-”

“The most plausible theory, in my opinion, is that you think you can slide under the radar because there are more important things going on right now. You think you can make quick money by shaving off the money owed to us to keep for yourself,” you continue, smile falling off your face. “If that’s the case, I’m afraid you’re sorely mistaken. The Port Mafia always repays its debts, and we always collect upon them.”

Mado takes in a stunted breath, then steps back again. “N-No. No, you misunderstand-” he tries again, and your lip curls up in frustration, eyes darting around the complex.

It would be risky. Very risky. The Mafia controls all of the cameras in the complex, and you’re not in sight of any of the windows, but it’s broad daylight, and there’s always the off chance someone walks out while you’re in the process of putting a bullet through his skull. You’re just so fed up, and Albatross is right there…

You let out a puff of air, almost amused, as you take a step back and nod to yourself. Whatever, you think to yourself. It’s better than listening to him stumble over weak excuses, wasting even more of your time. Just as you’re about to reach for your gun, the door to the apartment complex slams open, and you halt.

“Really?” A familiar voice says, loud and frustrated. “You’re going to hang up on me now?”

You blink, head snapping to the side for your eyes to focus on Dazai Osamu, dressed in gray sweats and a black-tshirt, bandages wrapped all the way from his wrists disappearing under his shirt. He’s angry, brows furrowed as he glares at Mado, doesn’t even notice you standing there. Your irritation instantly fades, replaced with mild curiosity and entertainment.

“Dazai,” you greet easily, an amused smile curling at the corners of your lips. You ignore the stunned look Mado casts between the two of you. “You live here?”

Dazai freezes as soon as he hears your voice, brown eyes wide as looks at you, finally registering your presence. “You-what are you doing here?” He sounds caught off guard, in disbelief.

Almost the same question, almost the same tone as the way he asked why you were at the library two weeks ago, the smile on your lips now is decidedly mocking as you repeat the answer you gave him back then. “I own this building. The whole complex, actually.”

“You’re joking,” Dazai says flatly.

“Hmm,” you say, as if you’re thinking to yourself. “No, I don’t believe I am. Ask Mado-kun here, I’ve had to take time out of my day to come speak to him because he refuses to pay for the property we lease to him.”

You give Mado a faux-sweet smile, watching as he looks even more aghast as he looks between you and Dazai.

Dazai looks incensed by your words. “So not only do you refuse to fix my water problems, but you can’t even pay for the property?” he says snidely. “Somehow, I’m not surprised.”

You raise your eyebrows, glancing at Dazai and then back to Mado. “Is that so?”

“Dazai-san,” Mado laughs nervously. “Don’t be hasty now-”

“Hasty?” Dazai demands. “I’ve gone two weeks without water. Every time I call you about it, you blow me off.”

“How fascinating,” you say lightly, giving Mado a cool look. “Well, the complex will have a new landlord soon. Mado-kun, please head to the car so we can work out the details of terminating the contract.”

Mado stares at you as if you’ve just signed his death sentence. Which you suppose you have. Terminating the contract is a gentler way of putting terminating his life. You raise your eyebrows and lift your hand to shoo him away, making eye contact with Albatross who had stepped out of the car as soon as Dazai had come outside.

Albatross tosses you a wink and nods toward Dazai; you give him a withering look, directing your attention back to Dazai as Mado walks over to the sleek black car you’d arrived in.

The look Dazai gives you is akin to a kicked puppy, and his words are drawn out long as he speaks, a quiet whine that shouldn’t do something to you but it does. “I was suffering in your building for two weeks,” he pouts. “I should be compensated.”

You roll your eyes. “I’ll send someone to fix your water,” you say dryly.

“You should give me your number,” Dazai says sweetly. “Just in case this happens again.”

“I’ll get you a new landlord and I’ll give you his number,” you say just as sweetly, relishing in the way he pushes his lip out even more.

“But what if it’s another bad landlord? I should have your number so I can call you just in case,” Dazai presses, tilting his head to the side and batting his lashes at you so blatantly that you have half a mind to snort and walk away.

Instead, you find yourself letting out a huff of laughter as you shake your head.

What the fuck?

You justify this by telling yourself that Mado’s inability to properly run the complex has, in turn, made the Mafia look bad, making it seem as if you’re unable to manage your own properties. It’s better to have someone who will instantly start complaining as soon as things go wrong so you can fix it right away.

Dazai scrambles to pull his phone from the pocket of his sweats and your lips quirk up a bit when you see the way his fingers are just barely trembling.

Cute.

You can see him watching you anxiously from the corner of his eye as you type your number into his phone quickly with your first name and hand it back to him. A bit embarrassed by how quickly you gave in to him, you make up for it with: “Don’t bother me unless it’s urgent.”

“Mhm,” Dazai agrees as he takes his phone back from you, looking down at your contact information with bright eyes. Then he suddenly pouts, “You didn’t even give yourself a cute contact name. Just your first name. That’s so boring.”

You watch as he immediately starts typing and squint at him, “What did you change it to?” you ask suspiciously, trying to look, but he pockets his phone before you can, tossing you a saccharine smile.

“You should waive my rent too,” Dazai adds, voice soft and honeyed.

The fucking audacity of this kid, you think to yourself, almost laughing in disbelief. You just gave him your number against all better judgment—he has to have more than a few screws loose, maybe all of them. The worst part is, you think the more time you spend around him, the looser yours become, too, because somehow you’re actually considering it.

You shouldn’t even be having this conversation with him. He’s a civilian. You’re an executive in the Mafia. You shouldn’t have given him your number, you shouldn’t have given him your name, you shouldn’t have entertained any of this at all. He’s a civilian, and you can’t be giving him special treatment because he is a civilian. A normal guy going to university to live a normal life. The more time you spend around him, the more likely he is to become one of the nameless bodies dumped in the abandoned shipping container yard by the ports, caught in the crossfires of an underworld conflict that he shouldn’t be anywhere near just because he was seen with you.

This shouldn’t bother you. It shouldn’t. You’ve been the reason for countless deaths, pulled the trigger yourself on most, so why is it when you think of Dazai Osamu’s stupid big brown eyes glassy and empty—body forgotten and rotting in a pile of corpses in that dumping ground—do you find your mouth dry and your chest tight?

It’s an effort for you to force out a laugh and wave him off over your shoulder as you turn to leave.

“Yeah, as if.”

There’s a skip in Dazai’s step as he makes his way back into his small studio apartment, fingers curled around his phone. As soon as he shuts the door, he flings himself onto his futon, pulling his phone out of his pocket and smiling at the new contact in it.

My Muse is what he’d changed the contact to from the boring name you’d entered it under as if you were only just an acquaintance to him and not his muse, his inspiration, his will to live. He clicks the message button on your contact and quickly types:

Dazai: hi (＠＾◡＾)

Instantly, it pops up that you read the message, and he waits anxiously for the three dots to appear, signaling that you’re typing a response, but they never come. He pouts to himself when he realizes that you’re not going to respond. A part of him wonders if maybe you gave him a fake number, but he doubts it. Still, Dazai wanted to get more information on you anyway, so he quickly pulls up a different contact. Dazai might not have a lot of friends, but he does have a lot of people who owe him favors.

Dazai: kataiii, remember when i helped u get a date with that brunette at the cafe? :P Katai: What do you want?

Dazai types in your number and promptly sends it to him.

Dazai: tell me whatever info u can find about the person who owns this number.

Katai doesn’t respond, so Dazai figures that he’s already on the hunt. Instead, he grabs his notebook and flips right to the page where he’s been listing all of the things he’s noticed about you.

Rich. Nepo baby?

Demanding job? What type of nepo baby has a demanding job?

REALLY rich? Built the nice library on campus, donated hundreds of millions of yen at 18/19 to build it—weird. Evaded answering when asked why.

Dazai taps his pen to his lips, trying to figure out what he wants to add on the next bullet point, and just as he thinks he’s formulated his next observation, his phone buzzes again.

Katai: No information. At all. Not even a name. Dazai: really? Katai: Yeah. Kind of weird, honestly. Usually I can find at least something small to go off of. It’s like this number doesn’t exist.

Interesting, Dazai thinks to himself, even more intrigued now as he sits up in his futon and starts making his next note. Wealthy, distant, cold, and apparently a ghost to even Katai Tamaya, who can usually find anyone and everyone with the smallest bit of information.

Who are you?

You’re in a meeting with Mori, Kouyou, and Ace when you get the text. It’s from an unsaved number, but one that you already have ingrained in your head, considering you get several dozen texts a day from it. You don’t even know why you bother to check this time—you usually just ignore them until you have nothing better to do than see what he’s yapping on about. Maybe this time, it’s because it’s only a single message; you’re used to getting them en masse, eight or nine messages in a row, unnecessarily split up when they could’ve been combined into one message.

As Ace drones on about whatever issues he’s having at his casinos, you spare a glance down at your phone, unlocking it to click on the message. You halt when you see that the only thing Dazai sent you is a ping with his location. Your eyes flit back upward to make sure no one is looking at you, and then you type a quick message back.

You: ?

You wait, tongue scraping against the roof of your mouth as the three bubbles pop up on your phone. His response is quick, and your stress levels skyrocket when all he sends is a “help.” Your mind races as you try to figure out what to do—if you leave the meeting now, you’re bound to draw Mori’s attention, but…

You shouldn’t care. What are you doing? You should not care. He’s a random kid that you happened to run into a couple of times, who has somehow managed to convince himself that the two of you are fated. He’s delusional and annoying, and you’d probably be better off with him gone and unable to bother you. His existence puts you in danger as much as it does him, and the fact that you’re sitting here actually contemplating going to this location to see what’s wrong is proof enough of that.

Shit.

Once again, you’re forced to justify your own actions to yourself as you find yourself rising to your feet. You tell yourself you’re only heading there to put an end to this, to tell him that he has to stop bothering you, to stop texting a dozen times a minute, several times a day. To tell him that he has to forget about you and go back to whatever he was doing before he ran into you at the bar that night.

With all eyes on you, the cogs in your mind turn quickly for an excuse. You only come up with a vague and weak one, one that you know Mori will question later on.

“Something urgent just came up,” you say, smiling thinly at the three other executives at the round table. You pointedly ignore the curious look in Mori’s eyes, knowing nothing good ever comes from drawing his curiosity. “I have more important things to do than listen to Ace whine about his own failings.”

“You-” Ace spits out, face going red as he stands up, but you’re already leaving the conference room.

You: Have the car outside in 2 minutes. Albatross: not ur personal chauffeur 😒 i’m busy

You roll your eyes at the response as you make your way into the elevator, clicking the button to bring you down to the first floor. Each second in the elevator feels like an eternity, and you find yourself glancing back down at your phone frequently to see if Dazai sends another message, but he does not.

What are you doing?

You find yourself shaking your head, a bit lost and taken aback by your own actions, as the elevator doors slide open to the first-floor lobby. You ignore your subordinates and the other Mafia underlings as you make your way to the front doors of the headquarters.

Albatross is dutifully waiting outside for you.

“Not my personal chauffeur, huh?” you say sarcastically as soon as you open the door to sit in the passenger seat. “What happened to being busy?”

“You take me for granted,” Albatross complains, head lolling to the side against the headrest to toss you a side-eye. “Where we goin’, doll?”

You show him the location sent to you, and you pointedly ignore the knowing look Albatross gives you at the unsaved number in your phone. He takes it in his hand to zoom into the precise location and raises his eyebrows.

“The hell is he doing on that side of the city?” Albatross says more to himself than to you, putting the phone down and shifting the car into gear. You also pointedly ignore how he immediately knows who you’re rushing off to help. “‘s a ten minute drive. I’ll get there in three.”

Oh god. It’s not like you haven’t been in car chases with Albatross before, but you don’t think anything can prepare you for the lurching in your stomach as he takes off. They’re fun usually, but you’re also usually with Chuuya, and you’re also usually distracted trying to gun down whoever is giving chase, you’re not paying attention to how dangerously he’s weaving in and out of traffic to get from place to place.

Albatross looks entirely exhilarated. There’s a wide smile on his face, pupils blown wide, sunglasses hanging off the bridge of his nose as he leans forward. He lets out a wild laugh as he takes such a jarring turn that your shoulder slams against the car door. You toss him an angry glare, but Albatross is entirely unperturbed, doesn’t even notice as he lets out a whoop.

That side of the city. You hadn’t even noticed while in the meeting, sparing a glance back down at your phone. Dazai’s up in Tsuzuki-ku—all of the city is under the Port Mafia’s control, all of the city and well beyond, really, most of Japan is under the Port Mafia’s thumb, but the northern wards are frequently tested by lower-rung gangs hoping to try to sliver some of the Mafia’s heartland away from them. They always fail, but sometimes it can get messy, and recently, there’s been another making moves in Aoba-ku.

Your chest tightens in a way that it definitely shouldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time a wannabe rival to the Mafia targeted someone close to an executive to try to get their hands on one, and you hadn’t exactly been subtly approaching him that day at the library. Two years ago, an organization called the Serpent’s Tongue targeted a girl Chuuya’d been talking to trying to get him to turn himself in—a civilian girl, actually, one that he dragged into this life just like you’re unintentionally doing with Dazai. He turned himself over for her; they killed her anyway, and the whole organization paid for it with their lives. So did all of their families. You don’t think Chuuya’s ever gotten over it.

You’re not trying to start a gang war for a civilian that you’ve met a handful of times, but…

“Should we call for backup?” Albatross asks you, uncharacteristically serious, as the two of you draw closer to the location sent to you. “What if it’s a trap? That Yakuza syndicate’s been pretty active up here in Aoba and Tsuzuki,”

“No,” you say, because you’re not fucking calling in the Black Lizards for this civilian. That’ll make this a whole operation, and then Mori will find out, and then everything will go to shit. “... I’ll text Chuuya.”

You: Where you at? Chuuya: Checking in on the ports in Kanagawa. What’s up?

You: Be on standby?

Chuuya: ??? Ok. What’s going on?

You don’t respond, slipping your phone back into your pocket and resting your head on the window. If Chuuya’s at the ports in Kanagawa-ku, then it won’t take him more than three or four minutes with the Tainted Sorrow to get to your location. You don’t need him barreling over here now if this is something you can handle on your own. The less people that know about Dazai fucking Osamu, the better.

“Uhhh,” Albatross begins. “I don’t think your boy’s in trouble, doll.”

Instantly, your blood pressure spikes.

You follow Albatross’s gaze to where he’s looking at a strip of shops, pulling to a stop in front of an affordable men’s warehouse. You stare blankly. Albatross looks like he’s about to start laughing.

“I’m going to kill him,” you breathe out, stepping out of the car and slamming the door shut so hard that you hear Albatross cursing at you from inside, even when you get all the way to the door of the store.

Your phone is buzzing incessantly, so you pull it out before you go into the building.

Chuuya: Hello?? What’s happening? Where are you?

Bitterly, you type out a response.

You: Forget it. False alarm.

As soon as you open the door, you’re met with the overwhelming scent of shoe polish and cheap dye. A store attendant comes up to you to ask if you need help with anything, but you’ve already spotted Dazai in the back, looking lost as his eyes card between three black suits.

“You,” you spit out loud enough to get his attention. Dazai’s eyes widen as he looks up at you. “You have some nerve.”

“Bella.” Dazai ignores your ire, a smile lighting up his face. “You came!”

“You said help,” you accuse angrily. “You said help and sent me a location with no explanation.”

“I do need help,” Dazai pouts. “I don’t know anything about suits. You wear such nice ones all the time, I figure you can help me pick one out.”

“Do I look like a goddamn stylist, Dazai?” You raise your voice, livid, blood still running hot from the panic you felt when you saw the text, how you’d exposed yourself in front of Mori, from the anxiety of trying to figure out if you needed to bring in the Black Lizards if this was a trap.

Dazai draws back a bit now as if only just realizing that you’re genuinely pissed, and you think you should take your gun and stick it in your own mouth because why are you feeling guilty when he’s the one in the wrong? You haven’t felt guilty for anything a day in your fucking life.

A sick part of you that you want to carve out and throw away defends him. How is he supposed to know the implications of what those messages could mean to someone like you? He’s a college student whose biggest problem of the day is working out the answers to his class assignments, and he has no idea who you are and what you do. He doesn’t know that the first thing that comes to your head is the sight of Chuuya’s girl’s head rolling on the fucking ground, watching him scream over her body. Doesn’t know that there are people out there with blood that runs as black as tar that are trying to hunt you down, would jump at the chance of any weakness to exploit.

You force yourself to calm down. You take a breath, take a step away, look up to the ceiling, and pray to a god you don’t believe in to give you the patience to get through this day.

“Well, since you’re here already…” Dazai tries, giving you a sweet smile and batting his long lashes.

Your eye twitches.

You drag your gaze from his face to the three suits he’s considering. Your lip curls up a bit in disfavor as you reach out to pinch the material between your fingers—it’s stiff and scratchy to the touch, surely uncomfortable to wear.

“What do you need this for?” you finally ask, glancing at him.

“I’m going on a date,” Dazai says proudly. You snort and look him over once. His jaw drops in offense, “That was so rude, what does that mean?”

“What do you really need it for?” you ask dryly.

Dazai withers, shoulders slumping. “My journalist professor is having me attend some event with him. Told me to get something nice to wear so I don’t look out of place.”

“And you think this will do the job?” you ask distastefully. “This looks like something a high schooler would wear to a school dance.”

Dazai looks helplessly at the suit you’re judging. “How can you tell?” he whines. “It’s just a suit.”

“The material and the color. It’s washed out.”

“Why are rich people so pretentious?” Dazai mutters, more to himself than you, and you raise your eyebrows as you watch him pout, clearly taking in the differences between the suit he picked out and the one you’re wearing. Still, he continues bitterly, “It’s just a suit.”

“You’re going with a journalist. He’s going to want you to blend in so people aren’t careful about what they say around you,” you note offhandedly, tilting your head to the side as you look over him. “The more you dress like them, the less likely they’ll be to notice you and the looser their lips will be.”

This is your field of expertise, you learned all of this when you were thirteen and fourteen, just learning the ropes of mafia politics. The first lesson you learned was that of the importance of being able to camouflage yourself in any crowd—the importance of not only acting and sounding like you belong but looking like you belong. If one thing is even a little off, you’ll be sniffed out by bloodhounds. You don’t even notice how you’re absently lecturing him on it until you catch sight of him from the corner of your eye.

Dazai’s looking at you, curious and taking in your words. You don’t like the sudden intense attention from him, so against better judgment, you sigh and change the subject.

“Come on,” you say. “I’ll take you somewhere else.”

Dazai’s mouth is dry as he trails after you into a luxury boutique in Nishi-ku. Everything about the place makes him feel uncomfortable and sorely out of place, from the way even the store attendants are dressed in suits that Dazai couldn’t dream of affording to the way he catches them casting looks toward one another as their eyes drift between you and Dazai.

“Yeah, uh, maybe we should go back to that warehouse? I can’t afford this,” Dazai says hesitantly, nearly tripping over a stand because he isn’t paying attention to where he’s walking.

“Obviously,” you say flatly, and Dazai would feel offended, but when he tries to peek around for the price on one of the suits near him, he finds, to his mortification, that there’s not even a price tag to look at. “Kido-san, can you get the backroom set up to take his measurements?”

Measurements, Dazai mouths to himself, feeling a bit lost.

An older man, who must be Kido, nods his head in acknowledgment. “Of course, hime.”

Dazai’s head snaps to the side, watching as your eye seems to twitch at the honorific.

“Hime?” Dazai whispers urgently, growing more confused by the second. He thought he had a general idea of who you are but finds that every meeting with you leaves him more and more bewildered.

“Don’t call me that,” you scowl before turning to look at him.

Dazai feels strangely seen under your stare, shifting on his feet from side to side as your gaze trails down from his face to his waist. You squint and then reach out, pinch the fabric of his cotton shirt, and pull it to the side; Dazai bites back a surprised yelp, which you seem to catch from how you give him a distinctly unimpressed look.

“I-” Dazai starts to say, but he doesn’t even know what he wants to say, so he just trails off awkwardly.

You don’t seem to notice either way because whatever you’re looking for, you seem to have found, letting out a pleased hum as you make your way to the back of the store, leaving him alone with two female store attendants who are observing him like he’s some unknown specimen.

“So, how do you know her?” One finally approaches him with an excited gleam in her eyes, eager for some gossip. “Hime has never brought anyone to us before, not even Nakahara-sama.”

Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that. Partially because he’s still caught on the way they address you as hime and partially because he’s caught on whoever ‘Nakahara-sama’ is and why they’re so impressed that you brought him here and not them. He feels smug about it, actually, so smug that he entirely forgets to respond until the woman draws back.

“Oh! We won’t tell anyone,” the woman rushes out, shaking her head as if thinking that’s why Dazai isn’t answering her question. “We have a completely confidential policy with our clients, and hime is our most important. We wouldn’t ever risk betraying her trust.”

Dazai’s mind is whirling, trying to store all of the information he’s receiving so he can put it down in his notebook when he gets home. Hime, the reverence in the store attendants’ voices when they talk about you, going to a boutique with a confidentiality policy… that’s all a bit weird, isn’t it? Dazai isn’t sure—rich people are weird in general, maybe it’s not unheard of for high-end boutiques like this to have policies in place in case clients come in and have to talk about their business. Nobody would want to go somewhere where attendants leak trade secrets for a quick buck.

Hime, though, why-

“Stop badgering him.” Your voice rings through the small boutique as you step out from the backroom, arms folded across your chest as you give the two attendants a sharp look. “Dazai, come.”

Dazai feels like you’re treating him like a pet dog, but he does dutifully follow after you. You motion to a pedestal in the middle of the room and Dazai makes his way over to it, feeling a bit embarrassed as he stands on top of it. You lean against the wall, and Dazai isn’t really sure what to do when Kido waddles over with a measuring tape, so he holds his arms out.

You instantly snort and look away, Kido flattens his lips.

Dazai is embarrassed, but lowers his arms.

“Take off your clothes, Dazai-sama,” the older man snaps his fingers together.

Dazai freezes, hardly even taking note of the honorific because he’s mortified by what’s being requested of him. He does not want to do that because he doesn’t want you to see that he covers his whole body with bandages. He’s had more than enough people see the bandages and immediately cringe away, imagining what monstrosity must lie beneath them for Dazai to hardly even allow an inch of visible skin. Sensing his discomfort, he watches your eyes track down to the bandages peeking over his collar and sleeves, and then you pointedly turn around to face the wall, sighing as you pull out your phone.

Dazai’s lips part a bit in shock, not expecting you to immediately recognize the issue and move to try to fix it. He thinks maybe only one person ever in his life has been able to read him so easily, and he’s been gone for four years.

For the first time since Odasaku’s death, Dazai feels like someone is actually seeing him.

“Shirt, Dazai-sama,” Kido urges impatiently, and Dazai swallows thickly as he pulls off his sweater, noticing the man pause when he sees the bandages wrapped around Dazai’s whole torso and chest.

“I don’t ever go without them,” Dazai says awkwardly, “I-”

“Take the measurements as is, Kido-san,” you say sharply from where you’re still facing the wall.

Kido doesn’t argue with you, immediately getting to work on measuring Dazai’s waist and hips. As he does, Dazai feels particularly uncomfortable with you still standing there facing the wall, so he finds himself talking.

“The day we met at the cafe, I was going to a poetry workshop,” he says suddenly. “For uni. It’s one of my classes this semester.”

“Yeah?” you ask, and Dazai is almost surprised that you’re indulging his conversation, a stupid smile twitching on his lips. “What’d they have you doing?”

“Our professor had us write free-verse,” Dazai continues, fingers thrumming against his thigh as he speaks—a nervous habit that he can’t seem to break. Kido slaps his hand to get him to stop when it messes up the measurement of his hips, and Dazai promptly stills. “I prefer free verse. It’s my favorite style of poetry.”

Dazai doesn’t really know why he’s rambling about this, but he can’t seem to shut himself up. He can feel his cheeks getting hot, realizing this probably isn’t a conversation you’d be interested in partaking in, and just as he’s about to awkwardly change the subject, you speak up.

“… I prefer sonnets,” you tell him after a few moments of silence.

“You read poetry?” Dazai asks, a bit too doubtfully, from the way you click your tongue in irritation.

“Not often. I don’t have the time for it, but I am not uncultured,” you say, and Dazai smiles a bit—he can practically see the scowl that’s on your face. “Il Canzoniere. Francis Petrarch. That’s my favorite.”

Dazai tilts his head to the side, considering you in a new light. “Huh,” he says more to himself than you. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Put your shirt back on and remove your pants, Dazai-sama,” Kido orders and Dazai nearly jumps, almost having forgotten about the man in his conversation with you. Dazai quickly does as asked, feeling a bit uncomfortable standing there in his briefs with his bandages wrapped around his legs. “I’ll be quick.”

“Why is Il Canzoniere your favorite?” Dazai asks curiously when Kido gets to work measuring each of Dazai’s thighs and calves.

You hum to yourself and then answer, “I think the Petrarchan view of love is very… accurate. How it’s so coveted despite how painful it may be. Among all of his other ideas, of course, but that I think is the most meaningful to me.”

Dazai’s lips part to respond, but for a second, no words leave them. Finally, he clears his throat and forces out, “Yeah… Yeah, I agree with that, too.”

“You’ve read?” you ask.

“Of course, I’ve read.” Dazai is almost offended by the question. “It’s Petrarch.”

“Have you really read it, though? The translations don’t do it justice.”

Dazai blinks. “You can speak Italian?”

“Several languages,” you drawl, as if it’s nothing. “Useful for business.”

Before Dazai can respond, Kido rises to his feet and motions for Dazai to pull back up his pants, noting down the measurements on his pad. “The rest I can do with your clothes on. You’re free to turn back around, hime.”

You do, and Dazai’s breath hitches at the unreadable expression on your face as you lean back against the wall and look over him. “What made you choose to go into English? Not exactly a useful major unless you plan on going into law or publishing.”

He thinks this might be the first time he’s talked about Odasaku out loud since his death. He didn’t go to the funeral, hasn’t talked to Ango since it all happened. He’s emotionally isolated himself from everyone for years, and Dazai is feeling more than a little vulnerable because he doesn’t even know why he’s telling you all of this. He just can’t seem to shut his mouth.

“I think you’ll do it justice,” you tell him after a few moments of silence.

Dazai looks up at you, dark eyes wide and imploring. He searches your face to see if you’re just fucking with him but only finds sincerity—you immediately look away, focusing on the wall instead. A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he’s positively vibrating at your words until Kido lets out a heavy sigh.

“Dazai-sama, please stop moving so much.”

Dazai stills immediately and instead focuses on trying to help Kido finish up the measurements as quickly as possible. Dazai’s only been to this part of Nishi-ku a handful of times, but if he remembers correctly, there’s a cafe two blocks down, and this is his chance.

This is his chance to ask you on a date. He has to take it. He hasn’t felt this giddy, this happy, this hopeful since before he lost Odasaku. Dazai hasn’t looked forward to the future like this in years, just surviving each day, wishing each passing one was his last, but not wanting to disappoint Odasaku by not fulfilling his last request. He’d been at his breaking point that day at the bar, but then he met you.

Then he met you. And yeah, you hadn’t shown much interest in him that night. Not at all, actually, but Dazai had never been drawn to someone like he’d been drawn to you before in his entire life. He’d known something was there, even if that did make him a little delusional. His heartbeat is erratic in his chest, and he’s clumsily trying to help speed things up, but he thinks he might be doing more harm than help.

When Dazai looks over to you again, he finds himself flustered by the expression on your face. Your head is tilted to the side as you observe him, lips curved up, and a look in your eyes that can only be described as fondness. You don’t notice that he caught you staring, so Dazai tries to burn this image in his head as quickly as he can. He’s used to contemptuous, judgmental looks, he doesn’t think anyone has ever looked at him so affectionately before. It makes him feel warm, like he’s someone who’s capable of being loved.

The look disappears as soon as you realize he caught you—Dazai misses it instantly. He watches instead as a flurry of conflicted emotions crosses over your face, and he wishes he could read your mind, know what you’re thinking, but he does know that he doesn’t like the painfully neutral expression that settles there, a dreadful feeling growing in his stomach that makes him feel as if something is wrong.

“Are you okay?” Dazai asks, trying to figure out what had changed so quickly.

You don’t respond to him—rather, you look at Kido instead, making his stomach drop.

“Is that all?” you finally ask as Kido rises to his feet.

“Yes, hime,” Kido tells you. “I’ve finished with the measurements.”

“Good,” you say, and then turn on your heel to leave without even sparing another glance toward Dazai. Caught off guard, he readjusts his shirt and nearly trips over his own feet, trying to rush after you. “When do you need this by, Dazai?”

Dazai doesn’t like the sudden distance in your tone, a far cry from the easy conversation the two of you had just been holding, but he forces himself to respond. “Uh, by the end of the month, I think?”

“Kido-san will have it done for you by the end of the week,” you say, tapping something into your phone, hardly paying attention to him. “Come back and pick it up then. Charge it to my card when you’ve figured out the pricing for it, yeah?”

“Of course, hime,” Kido agrees and Dazai feels a bit unsettled.

“You’ll come with me to pick it up, bella?” he prods, nudging your shoulder and trying to peek over to see what you’re typing, trying to figure out if something is wrong, if he’d done something to cause the abrupt change in attitude or if you’d gotten a text about work or something instead. He feels a bit nervous, his tongue swollen in his mouth, watching you carefully.

You stare at him, and for a terrible, terrible second, Dazai thinks you’re about to tell him no. But then the tension in your brows disappears, letting out a soft puff of air as your expression smoothes out.

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Yeah, I will.”

When Dazai smiles, feeling light and relieved, hopeful that maybe for the first time since Odasaku’s death, he won’t have to be alone, he misses the way your expression drops as you look away from him.

“This needs to stop.”

You stiffen at the sound of Chuuya’s familiar voice coming from the door of your bedroom, your shirt half-unbuttoned as you get ready for bed. You raise your eyebrows, turning to look at him over your shoulder, a bit thrown off because you hadn’t even heard the elevator come up to your room.

“Please, enlighten me as to what has you so worked up that you’re barging into my bedroom while I’m half-dressed,” you say dryly, giving Chuuya a cool look as you turn to face him, crossing your arms over your chest.

Chuuya looks uncharacteristically angry at you, lips curled down, eyes cold. It almost makes you draw back, mind racing to try to figure out what you might’ve done to piss him off. You can’t remember the last time he’s been mad at you like this—you’re not sure if he ever has been.

“Dazai Osamu. Fourth year literature student at Yokohama National University. Graduated from Kanagawa Sohgoh High School four years ago. Currently living in building number 10511898050 in the residential area of Iwaicho in Hodogaya-ku, unit number 409. He has an eight am class Mondays and Wednesdays, a two pm class Tuesdays and Thursdays, a-”

“Enough,” you cut him off, voice clipped and heartbeat thudding in your ears as you stare at Chuuya, watching as he gives you a sharp look.

“It took me less than ten minutes to get all of that information on him,” Chuuya says, voice low, “and no, I didn’t have Albatross help me. What the fuck are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say, jaw tight. “He’s just some random fucking kid who I bumped into once and won’t leave me alone now, that’s-”

That’s a lie, you know it, and evidently, Chuuya knows it too from how he scoffs at you and shakes his head. Your expression twists, throat spasming as you swallow. You’d known you were in trouble since you left the boutique—when you’d caught your gaze lingering on him as he fumbled to help Kido with the measurements, only making more work for the poor man, a warm feeling spreading through your chest when you saw how he gradually became more and more comfortable as you entertained his conversation, rambling about poetry and literature, the solemn look that crossed his face when he spoke about his friend.

“I think you’ll do it justice.”

You hadn’t even noticed the way you instinctively made an effort to reassure him, not until he looked back up at you and you saw the pretty flush spreading across his cheeks, gaze flitting to the ground, too flustered to meet your eyes. It’d been like someone tossed cold water right over you, drawing you from your thoughts and smacking you right back into reality.

You had every intention of rebuking him as soon as you finished finalizing the details of the order with Kido—you did. You were going to tell him not to contact you again, that if he did, you’d block his number. You were going to tell him to forget about you and go back to whatever he was doing before he met you that night at the bar—you were. But when he looked down at you through his lashes, unsure and hesitant, as if he knew what you were about to say to him but had the slimmest hope that maybe he was wrong, and-

And you couldn’t do it.

Fuck.

Who even are you anymore? You’re so bitter that you can taste it in your mouth, it’s an ugly and uncomfortable taste. You don’t even know where this is coming from—the reluctance to hurt this kid, the weakness. Because that’s what this is, it’s a weakness, one that you know better than anyone that people will exploit, and you are still putting him in danger.

“Yeah?” Chuuya lets out an unamused laugh, taking a step forward and pulling something out of his pocket. His gaze is challenging, and you have a pit in your stomach, one that tells you you’re not going to like whatever he’s about to say. “The fuck is this then, huh?”

He slaps a copy of your own credit card transactions down into your hand. Your blood boils when you see the red circle around the recent payment you made to Kido; above that, the 50k yen wired to the new landlord of the complex.

“You’re going to get this fucking kid killed,” Chuuya tells you, leaning in close. “You must realize that by now. You’re going to get him killed. If I could get all of this information so easily, it’s only a matter of time before one of our enemies does. That syndicate in the northern wards. The Red Chamber. Cao Xueqin will have him chopped into pieces and send you on a fucking treasure hunt across the city to get all of his limbs together for a proper burial. And for what? You’re bored? Is that it? You’re gonna have this kid tortured to death because you’re bored?”

You don’t answer, glaring at him as you try to calm yourself down, but you’re unusually rattled by Chuuya’s words. You find your mouth dry, your fingers shaking in your pockets. The sharp, snide words you would usually smack him back with die on your tongue, and you feel like a fool staring at him.

Your lack of response seems to trigger some sort of realization in Chuuya and you watch as his eyes widen briefly, leaning back.

“You actually care about him,” he says quietly, and now he’s the one who looks uncertain, averting his gaze to the side as he thinks.

“No, I don’t,” you correct immediately, shaking your head. “I don’t, Chuuya.”

“You do,” Chuuya murmurs. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t continue this. Cut it loose now, before it gets any further, before you end up getting him killed.”

“I’m not you,” you spit out, a low blow, you know. To Chuuya’s credit, he doesn’t react beyond a sharp inhale, nostrils flaring briefly.

“No, you’re not,” he agrees. “I wouldn’t be so fucking stupid to make the same mistake twice.”

“That was your mistake,” you hiss. “Not mine.”

Chuuya laughs, a huff that’s more mocking than amused, as he takes a step away from you. You’d think you’d prefer anger or hate more than the thinly veiled pity within them now.

“It’ll be your mistake too soon,” he warns, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he turns to leave. “You’re smarter than this.”

You are. You are smarter than this. You know this will turn out the same way it did with Chuuya. You can picture it sometimes. Dazai’s body in place of hers, bruised and beaten, lacerations lining his cold body and his head severed from his neck—a trophy to be taken by your enemies. His blood stains your hands and clothes, no matter how much you scrub your skin raw and no matter how many new outfits you buy. Whenever you look down, you see his blood dripping off of you.

“I’m not reaching out to him again,” you finally say, ignoring the way your chest tightens. “Get the fuck out of my apartment, Chuuya.”

Chuuya looks back at you, not even bothering to hide the pity this time. You have half a mind to slap it right off of his face.

“For your sake and his, I hope you don’t.”

“Dazai-kun, are you even paying attention?”

Dazai startles out of his own head, blinking rapidly as his gaze focuses on Professor Ui, who’s watching Dazai with a disapproving frown. Dazai gives the older man a sheepish smile, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, Ui-sensei. I was distracted,” Dazai apologizes, glancing once more back down at his phone, smile softening a bit when he sees you read his messages complaining about such a late meeting on campus. You don’t respond, naturally, but Dazai can practically picture you rolling your eyes at him.

“Please focus,” Professor Ui says tightly. “It’s essential that you understand our plans going into this event. We have two weeks left to prepare.”

Dazai sighs as he puts his phone down, looking up at Professor Ui and the two other students who are going to be working this event with him, both of whom look irritated by Dazai’s lack of focus.

“The event we’ll be attending is going to be hosted at the Tocho for a special agency in Tokyo that handles violent crimes associated with criminal enterprises. They made huge progress in pushing the Scarlet Gang out of the Asakusa Ward—the government wants to celebrate them for it,” Professor Ui explains, for the second time clearly, seeing how the two other students share a look with one another. “The whole event is pretty much just a mask for Representatives and Councillors in the Diet to gather and advocate for and against a major military bill about to pass through the Lower House.”

Dazai can already feel himself losing focus again, itching to text you yet another update that you won’t respond to, but he knows you’ll read. He wonders what you’re doing right now—whatever rich people do at seven on a Thursday night, he supposes. Probably out drinking with people, he thinks, jealous that he’s stuck on campus getting the rundown on this stupid assignment. He pouts a bit to himself, wondering if you’re with other guys right now, listening to them ramble on in the same way Dazai did to you, but before his thoughts can spiral too much in that direction, Professor Ui clears his throat.

“Our goal during this event is to find viable proof to move forward with an exposé on a crime syndicate known as the Sun and Steel,” Professor Ui says, and Dazai suddenly straightens, interested in what his professor is saying. “We’ve received a tip that one of their executives is going to be attending this event under the pretense of being an interested party—invites have been sent out to a lot of major corporations who have stakes in the bill. We believe that the Sun and Steel is using a company called the Age of Blue as a front for its criminal activities—if we can find proof and expose them for what they are, it can be a major stepping stone to taking down some of the bigger organizations in Japan.”

“Ui-sensei,” Hinami says, leaning forward in her seat. “The government wouldn’t really let some mafias attend an event for an agency that’s dedicated to taking them down. That’s a bit…”

“Ironic,” Ayato snorts, folding his arms over his chest. “I mean, if there’s no proof of their front company being involved in shady shit—oh, uh, sorry, sensei—shady stuff, it’s not like they can just pick and choose which to invite. Or, well, they can, but it won’t be a good look.”

“Exactly,” Professor Ui says, “and the government can’t do anything about them until they have due cause.”

“That’s what we’re for,” Dazai notes, “... but why us? You’re an adjunct professor—work for Ivory Eagle, that newspaper company that everyone’s been talking about. You have a whole team, why do you need a bunch of college students?”

“Does it matter?” Ayato says with a sharp grin. “Imagine if we pull this off? Our careers would be set. We’d have helped with the takedown of a mafia.”

Dazai thinks it does matter, eyes settling on the unreadable expression on Professor Ui’s face. His two classmates might be giddy with anticipation over such a ‘cool’ assignment, but mafia business is dangerous. Dazai might be fond of the idea of death, but he’s got a final wish to fulfill before that—plus, the idea of being tortured to death isn’t exactly appealing to him. He’s not sure that it’s just a coincidence that Professor Ui chose three students who have no family to help with this assignment. Otsuka Ayato, a second-year student who was orphaned during the Dragon’s Head Conflict six years ago; Koda Hinami, a third-year student who's been in and out of the foster system since she was a baby; and Dazai, whose mother killed herself when he was seven and whose aunt abandoned him, whose only guardian died four years ago.

No one would come looking for any of them if things went poorly.

“You won’t be in danger,” Professor Ui assures them. “Just think of it as a way to test your skill in information gathering while in a conversational setting—go in there, observe, make small talk, and see what you can find out. They’ll have their guard up around my fellow journalists and I, you three are new faces. All you’re going to do is go in there and talk. No danger.”

Dazai isn’t convinced.

“Ui-sensei, you said this is meant to be a stepping stone?” Hinami asks curiously, changing the subject before Dazai can press any further. “A stepping stone for who?”

Professor Ui smiles thinly. “The Port Mafia.”

#recommendations #dazai #omggg miss rina my talented little friend #this was so good the reader was so funny she had me dyinggg #but dazai was very precious in this #especially his backstory and how it tied to canon even in a college civilian au of him #super excited for the rest of it hehe #also I do not like the prof just had to put that out there

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