#the worst edit you'll ever see

[rabbitxxhole]

... in Strangerville 🌵 | next

[lizzybeeee]

DATV Spoilers - The Story We Lost

Posted earlier that I was compiling a list of lore/story threads that have been dropped with DATV's handling of Southern Thedas. The sheer number of things means that I've made this into two parts - this one focusing on all the story threads that have been effectively dropped.

Spoilers for the game ahead, of course.

If you've played the game then you'll know that Southern Thedas - everything from the past three games - was basically swept away by the blight.

A double blight should have catastrophic consequences for the entirety of Thedas, I don’t deny that, it’s nothing short of a mass extinction event – the absolute worst case scenario for all of Thedas.

However, waving away the fact that Southern Thedas - specifically every area you ever traveled to and interacted with in previous games – is gone, devastated by the blight, in a codex entry and line of dialogue makes it abundantly clear that BioWare is attempting to clean the slate so that they can move forwards with the game series with no ties to the previous ones.

The Warden, Hawke, and the Inquisitor effectively accomplished nothing.

As I put it in another post: I never expected them to consider every decision in game outside of the three options they gave us, but I certainly didn’t expect them to go scorched earth on the possibility of ever seeing the results of those decisions either.

How the lore has been handled in this game, summarized to “the elves did it” and “there’s been a shadowy organization in the shadows pulling the strings on everything” is absolutely devastating to the franchise.

The lack of care with which this was treated just bleeds, “There, we’ve answered all questions and finished with this era of Thedas. Moving on now.” At the same time, this destruction absolutely obliterated whatever story threads remained from the first three games.

Could BioWare bring these threads back? Yes, I suppose. But it doesn't change that it was so carelessly thrown aside in the first place.

If they didn't want people to care about their decisions and the impact they made on the world, perhaps they shouldn't have made that a feature of all the previous games.

-------------------------------------------

Story Threads/ Plot Points that were dropped:

Limited my points to what was in the Dragon Age Keep and what points were brought up frequently in codex entries, conversations, etc...

Edit: I never expected all of these points to be answered in DATV - this is just a list of what was effectively brushed to the side through very bad handling of lore and story.

-------------------------------------------

Dragon Age: Origins

What is the line of succession in Ferelden?

Things are looking very grim for Ferelden's succession and the Theirin/MacTir line if nothing is done. And nothing was done. The entire plot of DAO literally culminated in resolving this issue, yet no one seems to have learnt a thing from it?

- Anora ruling alone is unmarried with no heir - Alistair ruling alone is unmarried with no heir - Ruling together they have no heir - Alistair and a Cousland Queen have no heir - Anora and a Cousland King-Consort have no heir

The only potential candidate that can fit into several of those world states is Kieran.

Fergus Cousland, according to lore, is the second closest to the throne that is confirmed to be alive in DAI - potentially the brother in-law to the King/Queen of Ferelden.

Ferelden's succession with Alistair as King hinges on whether or not the Warden was able to cure the blight. Alternatively, it is hinted that he may be more resistant since he has dragon blood in him from Calenhad.

The potential implications of Kieran being the bastard son of the King of Ferelden.

Kieran being used as a political pawn to depose Anora using the Theirin bloodline.

DAI took away whatever destiny Kieran had with the Old God soul – that didn’t mean that BioWare had to take away everything else too. Regardless, it doesn't matter. Denerim and Redcliffe have fallen to the Blight - it's unlikely that any of this will ever be brought up again.

2. Did the Warden find a cure?

Unknown. Irrelevant.

Ferelden ended up blighted. Denerim fell. If Ferelden rises from the ashes, it will be without any sign of their influence. Any mention of them will likely be their title alone - no mention of their accomplishments.

3. General Questions about the Landsmeet

What happened to Anora if Alistair is named King? Who rules the teyrnir of Gwaren following the blight?

What happens to Alistair if he's exiled? We know Teagan finds him in DA2 but what happens after?

If Leliana becomes divine does that mean that Connor Guerrin is potentially an heir to Redcliffe?

4. Companion Plot Threads

Morrigan's sisters - the many daughters of Flemeth.

Shale's quest to reverse the process of becoming a golem.

Whatever the hell Nathaniel Howe was going on about when you run into him in DA2 in the blighted thaig.

What, if anything, Avernus leaned from spending a literal age or two studying blighted blood.

5. Zevran's Crusade against the Crows

RIP Zevran's one-man crusade against the Crows and their child slavery ring.

DATV messed up immensely by portraying the Crows as more of a ‘found family’ rather than the horrifically abusive organization it was set up to be.

The very same organization that preys on the weak and disenfranchised - honing them to be tools for the nobles/powerful of Thedas - are now the heroic freedom fighters of Antiva.

The literal decade he spent hunting down the Crows and their leaders is up in flames. No mention in DATV whatsoever.

Wasted a perfectly good opportunity to have a schism in the Crows, with Zevran at the helm of kicking out the antaam, taking in Crows who are are sick of what's happening.

6. The Dwarves of Orzammar

The impact of Bhelen/Harrowmont's reign - ruthless progression verses strict traditionalism

The rumours of an uprising of the casteless dwarves in DAI

Will we ever hear of noble House Brosca or Queen/Lady Rica? Nope.

Will we ever hear of the son that Aeducan can have with Mardy? Nope. (RIP Duncan Jnr - I still love you)

The Anvil of the Void and potential links it may have to the Titans.

If Branka lives what happened to her?

No more fine goods direct from Orzammar

The entire caste system has been simplified by Harding in DATV to effectively be: 'surface dwarves' and 'deep roads' dwarves.

7. The Magisters Sidereal / Awakened Darkspawn

According to a codex in the Descent: one went mad, consumed another, and the final magister fled into the Deep Roads.

Corypheous + Codex Magister + the Architect (most likely) = 4/5 magisters remaining? Possibly?

Reminder that it's hinted that there's an eighth Old God that was struck from the records of Tevinter.

The Architect and his Awakened Darkspawn.

No, it was all the elves. They're all dead now anyway. Thanks BioWare.

8. The Guardian and the Urn of Sacred Ashes

"Where did you come from, where did you go? Nobody in Thedas will ever knowwwww."

-------------------------------------------

Dragon Age 2

Dragon Age 2 was pretty self-contained, with most things being tied up in Trespasser or DAI. The worst of the plot points abandoned relate to the companions in the game and the lack of closure/answers about them.

General Questions:

Kirkwalls, apparently, endless line of 'provisional' viscounts and constant political instability since Varric ran off to go after Solas.

According to DA: Absolution the Red Templars are still in Kirkwall...yet the show is set after Trespasser - when Varric is viscount? When he mentions that they threw a parade when getting Meredith out of the Gallows?

Aveline, Varric, Merrill and whoever remains of the Kirkwall crew apparently just allowing red templars take over the Gallows?

What happened to Petrice if she lived?

What happened to Feynriel if he went to Tevinter?

If Hawke lives following DAI - where are they?

I have a whole list of lore that's also been brushed over: the Sundermount, Corypheous, the Band of Three etc... I decided to put them in Part 2 since I feel they fit in more with 'lore obliterated' rather than 'abandoned plot points'.

2. Companions

Merrill's Eluvian:

Merrill spent years fixing an eluvian with a piece of string, a potato, and some gum - managing to actually do it.

And it meant nothing.

Eluvians are now a fast travel hub - all mysticism and awe at this marvel of magic are completely gone. Whatever sacrifices Merrill went through to save her sliver of elven history is meaningless.

Imagine if Merrill's eluvian aided in the fight against Solas - if having it intact gave you an advantage against him. Imagine Merrill weeping as Bellara fixes every other single eluvian in ten seconds with her magical omnitool.

Fenris and Slavery in Tevinter:

DATV utterly trivializing slavery in Tevinter is abominable.

Disregarding everything Fenris went through, everything he ever fought for, and making it something barely touched upon in DATV is insanity.

You wouldn't know there was slavery in Tevinter if the Shadow Dragons didn't drop a line or two about it.

Fenris' entire story of going to help free the slaves is diminished because no one wanted to show the ugly, dark side of Tevinter in DATV.

DATV has retroactively made this choice for him to be so unfulfilling.

Where is Anders?

What happened with Sebastian's crusade against Anders? Was he ever captured? Was he executed? Are you telling me that no templars ever pursued this man fanatically after what happened in Kirkwall?

Does his fate vary if Hawke was friends/romanced him?

Varric appointing a new Viscount’s Keep healer called ‘Banders’ who just happens to sleep in the same room as Hawke and their children call him ‘daddy’ lmao

Does his fate vary according to who is Divine? Vivienne hunts him down, Cassandra puts him on trial, while Leliana pardons him?

How does he react to Leliana abolishing the Circles? How much does he weep when the rebellion fails and the mages are destroyed? This man instigated the starting event for DAI and drove most of DA2's major plot and he's just...gone.

The Hawke Siblings:

From DAI we know that Warden Bethany/Carver are safe, but what happened to them if they're in the Circle?

Give us Knight-Commander Carver and First Enchanter Bethany Hawke, you cowards! Have them dismantle the Gallows and be the shining examples of human decency we know they are.

What happens to them after DAI and the Mage/Templar War is concluded? In a world that can embrace or reject them - how do they find their place?

Varric

Trespasser gave him a satisfying conclusion - he's viscount, he's in his shit hole of a city, he's surrounded by the people that he loves and cares about. He has the chance to truly build up Kirkwall after all the shit its gone through.

It just feels so bitter, so meaningless, that they gave him the end that they did in DATV. Varric should never have been the one to go after Solas - the only reason it was him was because he's a popular character in the franchise and was used to draw interest.

Why not Cole?! Who was literally mentioned in Trespasser as being on hand to help his friends - who has the ability to get through to Solas in a way no one else could?

No proper send off - no acknowledgement from those who loved him as to his fate...Varric was reduced to a marketing gimmick to draw people in who wanted to see if he died or not.

Isabela

Isabela's story was brought to a close in DAI - she became an admiral, got a fancy hat, helped the Inquisition, and kept in contact with those she loved/Hawke if defended from the arishok.

Imagine bringing her back in a terrible outfit, having the most sex/gender positive character misgender another person, and making her part of the group that steals cultural artifacts from others.

The tomb of Koslun and Aveline would like a word with you?!

The entire Lords of Fortune group is also extremely bland? No commentary on the ethics/effects of colonialism/cultural appropriation - because confrontational topics/ideas are not allowed in this game. Just like topics of slavery/indoctrination.

Her entire character just seems to have regressed from DA2. Why bother having her cameo in the game if she's not going to meaningfully contribute/comment on whats happening?

Edit - Thanks to bunnyiscthulhu for reminding me that Isabela's mother sold her into marriage...yet she does nothing when Taash's mother is outright forcing them into a life they don't want. Isabela, who believed that everybody should be free - that no one should be forced into a life they don't want, just...lets it happen to another person?

-------------------------------------------

Dragon Age: Inquisition

What's going to happen to the Red Lyrium that's popped up across all of Thedas?

Ferelden, Orlais, Kirkwall - all areas are reported to have red lyrium on the surface.

What happens to the Red Lyrium in Suledin?

DAI speaks about how they can never stop the spread of red lyrium, only slow it – animals, insects, organisms - whatever life is in the ground is all susceptible to becoming blighted by red lyrium. Suledin Keep in particular was utterly devastated by the Red Templars - what happens to life there?

2. What happened to Corypheous' Inner Circle?

What happened to Samson? How long did he live *if* he’s given the chance to help Cullen? Can something good come from his cooperation?

What happened to Calpernia?

Looking at previous concept art for DATV she was a companion - freeing slaves, gossiping about Samson & Corypheous. Just...what a waste. Any potential insight we could have gotten into Corypheous is gone.

3. The Mage / Templar War:

How does the world vary if you conscripted vs allied with either?

How do the remnants of what faction was not chosen fit into this new world?

How does the world deal with abominations and weird magic shit now? Is an alternative to the Order made if it's wiped out in DAI?

How is Cullen's templar clinic doing? If the templars still exist, how is Divine Victoria changing/adapting the Order to better support mages/templars?

4. Wicked Eyes and Wicked Hearts:

How do Orlesian politics reflect who was made ruler?

Is Gaspard looking to expand into Ferelden once more? Are the elves being brutalized under his rule like they were by his chevaliers? Does he do away with the grand game like he threatened in DAI?

How does this differ if Briala has collared him? How do his supporters feel that Briala has his balls in a vice?

Do Celene and Briala stay together? Do things improve for the elves and for the culture of Orlais at large?

Do improvements for the elves mean that Solas' arguments to his elven agents are less persuasive?

If Florianne is alive what the hell is going to happen to her? How quickly does she fall on her blade after being forced to wear flat shoes for the rest of her life?

How quickly does shit fall apart if you get all three to cooperate lmao

Friendly reminder that DATV sets up that all of Orlais, except for the Winter Palace has been overrun by the Blight - and that a coup from the Venatori is inevitable, likely resulting in any ruler dying.

5. What is the line of succession in Orlais?!

Why does every noble family in Thedas have no contingency plans for if their head of government dies?!

Part of why we needed to resolve the leadership problem in DAI was because there was no clear, direct heir if Celene died!

Celene has no heir Gaspard has no heir

Florianne planned to frame Gaspard, murdering Celene herself, leaving no clear heir to the throne - Orlais was already in a civil war, the council of heralds/nobles would have all campaigned in their own interests...that was why this was so important!

Orlais shortsightedness and pride in their nation being the greatest in Thedas led to them almost falling in a single night!

6. Here Lies the Abyss:

What are the ramifications of having the Warden's exiled verses remaining in the south?

Trespasser literally states that there's a schism in the Order because some Warden's believe they should touch grass more often and not listen to some bloke up in Weisshaupt for what they do down in the south.

Perfect opportunity to have the wardens remaining in the south mean something! Greater numbers in the south means that there's a greater chance of holding against the blight - while greater numbers in the north can effect if Antiva/Tevinter end up blighted in the first attack!

How does public perception towards the Wardens/King of Ferelden change when they learn they were exiled for committing human sacrifice to demons?!

Give us a warden coup and First Warden Alistair / Blackwall, you cowards!

7. The Well of Sorrows:

What was the point of drinking Mythal's bathwater?!

It's been set up as something that changes you. Bound to Mythal forever?!

Retroactively, Solas feels like he's going mental about nothing! One of the few times he ever breaks - he begs you not to - and...for what? Nothing.

DATV does not acknowledge that in the slightest. Such a waste and disappointment of what was made out to be an impactful decision in DAI.

Imagine if the Inquisitor drinking from the well made us forced to fight against them during the fight with Solas - imagine if Solas, in a world state who hated the Inquisitor, used them as a puppet! Just like the envy demon in DAI - and no one notices until its too late. Imagine Mythal herself, wanting Solas to go through with his plan - (or one of the other evanuris) using an Inquisitor/Lavellan he loved as a puppet - imagine the horror he feels as another one of his friends is reduced to nothing more than a mindless slave of the evanuris once more. Imagine the devastation as he watches Lavellan lose all sense of self - perhaps swaying him to, maybe, not go through with his plan?! Imagine having Cole come back to help save the Inquisitor - or Solas begging Rook to save them.

8. DLC Implications:

What happens if Hakkon is not slain? What happens to Southern Ferelden and the Avaar?

How does the rest of Thedas react to the truth of what happened at Red Crossing and the Dales? How do they react to learning that Inquisitor Ameridan - First Inquisitor and leader of the Seekers - was a dalish, elven mage?

What happens if you do not save the mines in the Descent DLC? How badly is Orzammars economy crippled? There are already rumours of riots occurring within Orzammar - it this enough to push the caste system over the edge?

9. Elven Uprising and the War with the Qun:

The elven uprising that was implied to be occuring all over Thedas as a result of years of oppression, systematic abuse, and Solas’ influence? What happened to it?

Where are the agents of fen'harel?!

It was set up that Solas was planning to use this rebellion as a smokescreen for his plans - the elves, all rebelling for good reason, rallying to his cause while Solas planned to restore the world that once was. The rest of Thedas would only see an elven uprising, not knowing the true face behind it until it was too late!

The war between Tevinter and the Qun?!

Everyone conveniently forgetting that the Qun literally attempted to assassinate every noble family in Thedas? Why was there no exalted march because of this? This should have destroyed any accord between the chantry and the qun. There would absolutely be blood for this – Tevinter could have attacked the Qun and all of Southern Thedas would have applauded - no one would have differentiated between extremist qunari and the normal qun, especially not after Kirkwall.

The implication at the end of Trespasser that we could convince Solas to abandon his plans? Him saying that he welcomed giving us the chance?!

The difference that the Inquisitors friendship, love, or hatred could have in either convincing Solas to take another path or damning him to go ahaead with his plan, no matter the cost?

Have our decisions in previous games matter! How we treated the elves - if we worked to better their lives or 'put them in their place' - can be used to convince him that the world can change! Have the ripple effects of these decisions be seen when the elven gods return, blighted - does the world turn against the elves, hardening Solas, or does the world defend the elves from those who would blame them?

Why was Sandal in the Crossroads?! Where is Bodahn?!

10. Divine Victoria!

How does the world of Thedas change with Leliana, Cassandra, or Vivienne at the head of the chantry?

How does Tevinter react to having a mage divine?!

Do relations change between both nations because of this?

Leliana allowing elves, dwarves, and even qunari to join the Chantry! Leliana also allowing members of the chantry to get married if she's romanced by the warden.

What happened to the Seekers? Are they being rebuilt?

Does the chantry inform the masses, the rest of the mages, that they can CURE tranquility?!

If either Leliana or Cassandra was romanced - what are the implications that may have on the chantry?

-------------------------------------------

No wonder the writers insisted that none of the past choices would have an impact on Veilguard - they literally went scorched earth on everything we ever did.

Ferelden is blighted - any legacy of the warden is gone.

Kirkwall is destroyed - any impact Hawke had is gone.

The hard won peace/order of the Inquisition was rendered meaningless since every single place that you went to and helped is now destroyed by the blight.

Orlais' ruler will likely be assassinated by the venatori who are plotting a coup with the nobles - making whomever you chose obsolete.

AND IT WAS ALL THE WORK OF THE MAGICAL ILLUMINATI FROM ACROSS THE SEA???

[osarina]

ᡣ𐭩 WASTELAND, BABY (I'M IN LOVE WITH YOU)

FEATURING: dazai osamu

SUMMARY: at the beach house, you can pretend that nothing is wrong. you know that avoidance will only get you so far, but you can't help but want to treasure the time you have with dazai... you don't know how much longer you'll have before everything catches up to you. until then, you'll enjoy the peace that you have, even if dazai does seem oddly intent on ruining it.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: another week of minimal activity </3 sorry lil love bugs ive been so busy. BUT take civzai6!! and treasure it because this is the only chill chapter for quite a bit!! HAHAHHH no but for real i enjoyed this chapter so much that i literally had to split it in two because i wrote too much HAHAH, same goes for the next chapter ;) as always, reblogs are very 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).

IMPORTANT NOTE FOR 17 & UNDER FOLLOWING THE SERIES: partially copy and pasted from the other series - if you guys read waterloo, you know the deal. y'all knew what you were getting into. this is the smut chapter. but again, i'm not going to ask y'all to not interact/read a whole chapter just because there's 2-3k words of smut, but i am going to say here the smut is in the FINAL scene. there is very little plot development in the smut itself, so i ask you guys, again, to respectfully scroll past it. i'll make the sentence when the smut starts red like this so you know that's when it starts, and then you can continue reading at the next divider. thank you for understanding! there is NO plot development in the smut, i'll reiterate that at the end where i put the summary in waterloo, i restructured to make sure none of it was in it.

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: hardly edited - i've been busy. dazai has some insecure thoughts. he's also actively being self destructive. this is an easy chapter—calm before the storm. not much to warn. i don't think i'm missing anything but pls lmk if i am, i didn't have time to reread

SMUT WARNINGS: unprotected sex, praise, dazai cries a bit, lil bit of body worship (f->m), sub!dazai, mostly pretty vanilla - short and sweet

SEE: WASTELAND, BABY! SERIES MASTERLIST

Dazai wakes up to the sun peeking through the blinds of the bedroom he’d shared with you and the scent of pancakes wafting through the air. His lips twitch up into a small smile as he stretches, letting out a soft sigh as he sinks into the comfortable mattress. 

He thinks he slept better last night than he’s slept in his entire life. He’s always been plagued with restlessness, he can hardly ever sleep and when he does, he’s haunted by faces he’d rather not see again: Oda’s bloodstained face looking up at him as he dies in Dazai’s arms, the glassy eyes of his mother as she swings slowly from a rope, his aunt’s twisted expression as she throws Dazai to the ground in Suribachi, the hurt look in Ango’s eyes as he took all of the vile insults that Dazai spat at him. Dazai dreads sleeping about as much as the average person dreads ever having to confront their worst fear.

But last night? Last night, Dazai slept peacefully. He fell asleep curled up in your arms, laying on top of you—you’d still been awake, tracing patterns on his back through his shirt. You’d been distracted by something all day yesterday; from when you picked him up at the hospital to when you laid down with him in bed that night, something had been bothering you. Your phone had been buzzing nonstop, call after call and text after text—you didn’t bother checking it but he could tell it was stressing you out.

He tried to ask you about it but you blew it off every time. Dazai supposes he should have expected that from you but your evasion was still irritating, especially after the conversation the two of you had yesterday. You had the nerve to try to distract him with movies and figuring out how to bake a cake with him; he had the nerve to fall for the weak attempts at distracting him.

He yawns as he pushes himself to a sitting position, rubbing at his eyes and tossing the blankets off. He tugs at the short sleeves of his t-shirt, feeling a bit too exposed. The bandages covering his wrists and arms are frayed—he’ll need to grab new ones to rewrap them soon, he hasn’t checked the bathroom to see if you had any stored. His shoulders ache a bit, he winces as he rolls them before making his way out of the bedroom and down the hall to the kitchen.

You’re standing at the stove, hand on your hip as you frown down at whatever you’re cooking. You’re still dressed in your pajamas—a thin black cami and loose shorts—and Dazai yearns, he feels it deep in his chest, feels it as a lump in his throat and a heaviness in his stomach. Because he could… he could picture it… he could picture a future with you.

He could imagine waking up to you every day—you’d always wake up before him because you somehow always wake up at the ass crack of dawn. You’d usually be dealing with some of your shady business when he wakes up, sitting at the kitchen table typing away at your phone, maybe you’d sometimes be on calls and you’d lift a finger to your lips to hush him when you realize he wakes up. Every once in a while, he’d wake up to you making breakfast for him—you told him that you enjoy cooking when you have the time for it, so Dazai imagines that it would be a rare treat.

Like today.

But still, he can’t help but wonder why today? Your phone had been blowing up last night and now… now, it’s sitting on the marble counter, screen dark and not buzzing at all. He glances up at you once to make sure you’re still looking at the stove and then shifts over to the counter quietly, discreetly pressing his finger against the screen to see if your phone is even on and then frowns when he realizes that you did, in fact, turn it off.

What is going on that has you so avoidant that you’d rather turn your phone off than confront it? His mind races to all of the things you’ve been bitching to him about, remembers that you told him you weren’t responding for days because you’d been busy finishing up negotiations with the Shimazaki-kai… is it something new, maybe? But why aren’t you handling it then? It doesn’t make any sense.

Dazai makes his way over to you, feet padding softly against the ground until he’s standing behind you. He slips his arms around your waist and plops his chin onto your shoulder, humming softly as he nudges his nose against your ear before resting the side of his head against yours.

“Good morning,” he says, voice still a bit rough with sleep. “Whatcha making?”

“Pancakes,” you reply easily and Dazai’s heart swells when you lean back into his chest, fueling the fantasy of his imagined future even more. God, he’s been waiting for the ball to drop since you talked to him out on the cliff’s edge—you can’t keep giving him hope like this, he can feel it blooming in his chest and he knows that there’s going to be something to ruin it because that’s just how his life goes but… “I don’t think they came out good though.”

“I’ll eat them anyway,” Dazai says immediately.

“You’ll probably get food poisoning.”

“I don’t care.”

“I do.”

You do.

Two words, so simple and yet they ring through his head over and over again so loudly. You care. You do care. You implied it last night when you told him you wanted him, that it scares you how bad you want him because of his life being at risk, but you hadn’t out right said it until now and it’s a devastating blow. Fatal, really.

The puff of air he lets out is shaky and when you turn to look at him, confused, he can only barely muster a smile as he asks hesitantly, “You do?”

The last time he asked you this, you changed the subject and evaded answering—he took it as an answer in itself, that you don’t care… but now, he’s let himself hope again, hope that maybe this time your answer will be different. What a treacherous thing, really, because even now he can feel the dark claws of anxiety start tugging at his heart in different directions, yanking it around and stretching it until it’s painful. He thinks it would’ve just been easier to carve it out and hand it over to you.

“I do,” you finally say, voice quiet. “I care.”

Dazai lets out a long breath, one that he hardly recognized he was holding, dropping his forehead down on your shoulder to hide his face against your skin. His arms tighten around your waist as his lips curve up, he presses his lips to your neck but for some reason, he can’t fully discard the dreadful feeling in his chest.

Even with your assurances and finally verbally admitting that you care about him, it’s like he’s still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for something to shatter his idyllic paradise. And he has a feeling he knows exactly what will do it. So because Dazai is Dazai and he has been self-destructive since the day he was born, he brings it up.

“Why’s your phone been blowing up?” he asks, keeping his voice deceptively light like he’s just trying to have a normal conversation with you—you don’t fall for it. When you immediately stiffen in his arms, Dazai almost wants to backtrack.

“Nothing important,” you say, voice tight, forcing a smile onto your face as you step away to look up at him. “Nothing to worry about. Want to help me remake the pancakes?”

You use the same tactic Dazai used on you after Nakahara Chuuya showed up at your apartment. You’re good too because even though Dazai knows what you’re doing, he still wants to give in. Wants to play domestic with you, make breakfast together and then sit at the table and eat. But he can’t, so while you’re good at using the same tactic that Dazai used against you, you’re ultimately unsuccessful because he doesn’t show you the same grace that you showed him.

“Tell me anyway?” Dazai asks softly. “Even if it’s not important?”

You stare at Dazai for a moment, your lips pressed together and he could imagine the thoughts running through your head—how he’s never satisfied, and how he always has to push you. He can imagine you voicing it again, telling him how it’s always what he wants, but you don’t.

Instead, you shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about it, it’s stressing me out. I would rather just make breakfast with you,” you say. 

Your voice becomes a bit more tense and Dazai knows that he should stop pushing, that it would be smart to stop now, but Dazai’s track record for dumb decisions gets longer instead.

“Maybe I can help,” he prods, taking a step closer to you, reaching out to rest his hands faintly on your hips. He nudges his head forward, pushing his nose against yours before smiling softly and pressing his lips to yours. “Tell me, please.”

Let me in.

Dazai’s eyes are big and earnest as he stares down at you, fingers digging just the slightest bit further into your hips. Your expression is unrelenting, much to his distress.

“It’s mafia business,” you finally say.

“You’ve told me about mafia business before.”

You exhale sharply, brushing his hands off of you and taking a step away, and Dazai knows he’s pressing too much—doesn’t even know why he’s pressing because he knows that it’ll shatter the illusion of peace that the past half a day in the beach house has given him. 

Maybe that’s what he wants, for it to be ruined before he can get used to it.

You look out the window and don’t speak for a moment. Dazai itches to move closer to you again but his feet are rooted to the ground. Finally, you let out a heavy sigh and let your head fall forward a bit, shaking it as you turn back around to face him.

“Another organization has arrived in Yokohama,” you say, lifting your eyes to meet his. “A dangerous one. The Port Mafia… the executives are meeting to figure out how to handle the situation.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment. “You’re an executive.”

“I am.”

“You’re here.”

“I am.”

“But… why?” Dazai asks, voice hitching at the implications of it, not wanting to get his hopes up but unable to stop himself from it at the same time. “Why are you here?”

You stare at him silently for a moment and then you say quietly, “The call for the meeting came at the same time I got the voicemail from the hospital. I chose to go to you.”

Dazai’s breath catches as he breathes in and shakes terribly as he breathes out, unable to draw his gaze away from you. You… “You chose me,” he whispers.

“I chose you,” you repeat, swallowing as you turn your gaze down. “I did. I chose you.”

“Do you regret it?” Dazai asks softly—he wonders if he hopes you’ll say yes, that you’ll quash his hope before it’s too late.

“No,” you say. “I don’t.”

And Dazai doesn’t know how to respond to that. He’s never been wanted before. Never been someone’s first choice. Dazai has always been the one left behind for others, discarded for a better option. His throat is uncomfortably tight and his fingers are shaking a bit, and he doesn’t have pockets to hide them in now so they’re in full view of your vision before he clasps his hands behind his back.

But it’s too late—you’ve already seen it and you’re taking a step closer to him. You reach out to cup his cheek with one of your hands and Dazai’s eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch.

“I don’t regret anything about you, Dazai Osamu,” you say quietly, so honestly that it makes a shiver run down Dazai’s spine, unintentionally letting out a soft noise in the back of his throat that he’s unable to smother. “Not a single thing.”

“Well, that can’t possibly be true,” Dazai tries to joke, to play off how much you’ve rattled him with only a few words, but you aren’t fooled by his tricks.

“It’s true.”

Dazai stares at you, his eyes sting and his fingers are shaking even more than they’d been before. The pads of your fingers burn against his cheek and Dazai thinks you’ve ruined him. You’ve ruined him entirely. You’ve shattered all of his carefully crafted walls, the ones that protect him from situations just like this, the ones that prevent him from being burned just like he has countless times before. You’ve ruined him and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll be able to put himself together again if this ends poorly.

He doesn’t know what to say in response to your words and he can’t handle the way you’re staring at him so intensely, so Dazai decides to change the subject with a shaky smile and a terrifying amount of hope blooming within him.

“Maybe you just need a fresh set of eyes. Tell me about this organization, I can try to help.”

You don’t even know why you’re considering this. 

Dazai bounds next to you in the sand chatting about his poetry workship. He still won’t tell you what the project he’s writing on is about but he does seem to be mighty pleased with how it’s coming out since he’s bragging about how his is clearly the best of all of his classmates’ and that he’s sure he’s going to get the best grade on it. It’s cute, you think, a fond smile twitching to the corner of your lips as you watch him from the corner of your eye.

It’s still only mid-morning, the sun paints a pretty glow over the private beach and Dazai looks so… alive beneath it. His smile is bright and genuine, skin flushed and radiant, eyes reminiscent of pools of honey—you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so bright before. His fingers thrum excitedly against the book he’s bringing down to the beach with him: The Aeneid—he’s read it before, he very snootily told you when you side-eyed him for grabbing it, he just needs to refresh on it for his creative writing class.

When the two of you get down to the shore, you sit down in the sand right near the water’s edge, dipping your feet into the cool water. Dazai plops down next to you, pressing his shoulder against yours and you itch to wrap your arm around his waist, slide your hand under the comfy sweatshirt he’s wearing to rub circles over the bandages covering his skin, but your hands stay stiff in your lap as you stare down at the phone resting on your lap.

You have half a mind to toss it right into the bay. 

But then Dazai nudges you, waiting for you to start talking, and you sigh, looking back across the bay.

“They call themselves the Guild,” you finally say. You can feel Dazai’s eyes on you, curious, and you think maybe you should quit while you’re ahead but you find yourself speaking anyway. “They’re a kind of… secret society. Based in North America. They’re powerful. A lot of influence throughout the world.”

“Why are they here?” Dazai asks and you can feel the way his face twists as he then adds, “More influence than you?”

You can’t help the amused smile that twitches to your lips at his words. “I’m not the end all of political influence, Dazai,” you tell him, the tension in your shoulders slipping away as you tilt your head to the side to look at him

Dazai gives you a look. “Please, I was at that event. I heard the way people talked about you. I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re the most influential person in Japan.”

“Probably the eastern hemisphere,” you correct, quite humbly, snorting as Dazai rolls his eyes. “No, I’m kidding. I have a lot of influence but there are plenty with more than me, especially considering I’m held back by the fact that I can’t make myself a public figure. Having to perpetually work behind the scenes is pretty… crippling.”

“You go to the big government events though,” Dazai frowns. “Those are-”

“Very, very confidential unless certain cockroaches worm their way in and feed information to the public,” you say dryly, watching as Dazai gives you an offended look. 

“Did you just call me a cockroach?”

“If the shoe fits.” You shrug.

“My bella hates me,” Dazai sighs whimsically, dropping his head on your shoulder. “She thinks I’m a bug. A cockroach.”

You soften when he comes in contact with you, lifting your hand to cradle the side of his head. Your lips curl up into a small smile when Dazai’s lashes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. You brush your fingers through his hair, choosing your words carefully as you continue to explain what’s going on in spite of your better judgment.

“Anyway, they have more influence than me. I’ve been working all night trying to figure out what to do, pulled as many strings as I can trying to get the government to push them out of Yokohama but they’ve eaten their way right into the heart of Japan. They’ve been granted diplomatic immunity and they’re putting pressure on the government to try to get us—the Port Mafia—and some government agencies that are protesting the invasion of the city to back off. They’re trying to get their hands on a skilled business permit, we don’t know why but…”

“But you have suspicions,” Dazai finishes for you, sitting up straight again to watch you, ever perceptive. “Right?”

You don't respond for a moment as you watch him carefully. Dazai has always been perceptive—you’ve noticed it from early on when you would talk around the truth and he would train that sharp gaze on you, knowing that you were skirting around something but unable to figure out what. 

Honestly, it should be concerning. Dazai’s smarter than almost anyone you’ve ever met. He’s sharp and quick—proved it with the way he managed to get his hands on the tapes behind the Tokyo City Hall to get evidence of your mafia affiliation; even proved it before that when he recognized that he had to go about information gathering in a different manner, trying to pin down your political opinions because he knew which sectors supported which opinion and wanted to know which one you were a part of.

“Does it have something to do with me?”

“You’re so conceited, not everything has to do with you.”

Dazai flushes red, scowling at you and physically turning his back to you. “Well forgive me for assuming because you’ve certainly been acting like everything has to do with me.”

You smile as Dazai huffs shifting closer to press your lips against the nape of his neck, arms slipping around his waist. He gives you a dirty look but relaxes back into your chest, leaning into you. You slip your hands beneath his sweatshirt, smoothing them out over the bandages covering his slim torso, feeling the way his breath hitches at your touch.

“They’re here because of something I did,” you finally admit quietly, ignoring as he looks up at you curiously. “One of the boys you met when you came to my apartment the first time… they had a bounty on the black market on him for seven billion yen.”

Dazai chokes, splutters over air as he looks up at you and squeaks out, “Seven billion-why?”

“We don’t know,” you say honestly. “I… didn’t think it was a good sign that they were putting so high of a bounty on a seemingly random ability user. It made me think there was more to it than meets the eye, that it would be… dangerous for us to hand him over to the Guild.”

Dazai’s brows furrow as he nods. “I mean, it makes sense. That much money for a what? Eighteen year old kid? Is his ability special?”

“He can turn into a tiger,” you tell him. “Can’t even control it.”

Dazai sits back up straight again, holding his book in his lap as he turns to face you, crossing his legs together. You feel a bit of fondness bubbling in your chest when you see how quickly he seems to be thinking, you can all but see the gears running swiftly behind his dark eyes.

“Is he the tiger? Is the tiger something of its own sentience? I did a research project on ability users two years ago, mostly I was just reading the studies of how they’re dragged into criminal organizations at a young age, but some of them talked about how some ability users can’t even control their ability because it’s like… a separate consciousness. Maybe it knows something? Or there are parts of his ability that he hasn’t been able to unlock yet?”

Is it sentient? Atsushi hadn’t made any mention of it and you hadn’t thought to ask. It wouldn’t be… unheard of. Dazai is right in that there’s been a record of ability users who claim that their abilities have a consciousness of their own. There’s a member of the SDUP, a higher up in the Family who you met a few years back, and even Chuuya. Arahabaki is its own sentient being within Chuuya, could that be why Atsushi can’t control his ability? You don’t know, you hadn’t really considered it but it’s definitely a possibility, and it would explain the Guild’s desperation to get their hands on him.

“Either way, I mean, I think you were definitely right to keep him close,” Dazai shrugs. “They clearly want him badly for a reason and since it’s not one that can be seen at face value, who knows what it could be.”

“I wish you had been at the meeting where I had to argue with all of them about it,” you say bitterly, still irritated over the hours you spent arguing with the other executives, who were dead set on getting the money from the bounty.

Dazai tilts his head to the side, an unreadable look crossing his face for a second but then he shakes his head and asks, “So political pressure isn’t working?”

“No. I mean, they don’t want the Americans here anymore than any of us but they don’t have a choice. After you fell asleep, I spent most of the night on the phone with the Minister of Foreign Affairs, talked to the US ambassador in Tokyo and asked our ambassador in the US to try to work with their government to get the Guild out of Japan. Got nowhere with it. If something could’ve been done politically to force them out of here, I would’ve gotten it done.”

You even called Tolstoy last night. You don’t like going to outsiders about domestic problems but you feel as if you’re backed into a corner—it’s your fault that the Guild is here and you can’t even do anything to fix it. And now-and now Dazai is at risk too. You have half a mind to keep him locked up in this beach house until you can figure everything out but you doubt that he’d stay in one place and he’s better off at your side than on his own.

He doesn’t respond for a moment, oblivious to the thoughts running through your head—or maybe not, he probably knows exactly how stressed you are about this. You’ve never been without your phone and you know you’re making a mistake by turning it off now but you just can’t bring yourself to turn it on, dreading whatever messages you might find. Chuuya’s rage at your disappearance, Kouyou’s disapproval and worst of all, Mori’s disappointment.

He would know where you are. Who you’re with. Why you disappeared and why you were unable to fix this before it became a major problem for the Mafia. He promised not to intervene if it didn’t affect Port Mafia business and you let it anyway. You ran to Dazai when you should have gone to the meeting and you can’t even bring yourself to regret it even when you know that you put him in danger, not just from your enemies but also from-

You feel Dazai’s hand brush your cheek as he reaches out, brows knit in concern as he looks at you and you realize that your breath has quickened noticeably, shallow and uneven. You try to calm yourself down but it only makes your heart rate spike more because you can’t figure out why you’re unable to get yourself under control.

“Hey,” Dazai says quietly, almost as if he doesn’t want to startle you, but he sounds like he’s underwater. Or you’re underwater. Something isn’t right—you know what isn’t right, you know what’s happening but you can’t stop it. “Hey, it’s okay-”

It’s not okay. It’s very much not okay. Your fingers dig into the sand, the small grains getting stuck beneath your fingernails as you try to physically ground yourself. You never should have started talking about this with him—you’d known it was going to force you to confront everything you’ve been avoiding the past few hours, your failure and incapability but he asked you and you couldn’t-

You couldn’t say no.

You need to-

“You need to make them want to go back.”

You’re so caught off guard by Dazai’s words that it startles you right out of your spiral. Your gaze focuses on him and you watch as he starts to light up, excited. His hands drop to your wrists, holding them gently as he urges you to pay attention to him. 

“You need to make them want to go back,” he repeats, faster this time. “You can’t force them, so you have to make them choose to go on their own.”

You shake your head, still unsteady from your sudden bout of panic. You briefly shut your eyes and then say quietly, “Dazai, that’s a lot easier said than done. How-”

“The best defense is a good offense,” Dazai quotes at you, nearly vibrating. “Counterattack, do something to make them have to go back to America.”

Oh.

Oh my god.

“Oh my god,” you voice out loud, little over a breath. “Oh my god. Octavio.”

“Who?” Dazai blinks, staring at you as you fumble to turn your phone back on.

“Octavio Paz,” you say hurriedly, willing your phone to turn back on. “He’s the leader of one of Mexico’s biggest cartels, has been trying to expand his foothold into the central parts of the US for years but one of the Guild members—Twain, maybe, Steinbeck, one of them—they always prevented it. If I can get him to do something now-”

You’re stupid, you’re so stupid for not thinking of this sooner. Mori has always taught you it—the one that strikes the first blow wins the battle—you should’ve had Octavio Paz making movements in the US as soon as you decided to keep Atsushi with the Port Mafia. As soon as you were considering keeping Atsushi with the Port Mafia. You were stupid and you let the Guild make the opening move of the game, and now it could cost you.

But if you can act fast enough then maybe…

As your phone finally starts to turn on, you look back up at Dazai.

“I could kiss you,” you breathe out, watching his face light up at your approval. 

You almost find yourself a bit suspicious of how quickly he came to this conclusion, how naturally this thought process seemed to come to him. You had been struggling trying to figure out what to do and you have over a decade of experience now—you were too focused on the fact that they were already here, so focused on the defense that you were scrambling and blinded to the prospect of an offense. And yes, it might’ve just been stupidity on your part—stupidity and carelessness, that is—but Dazai is a twenty-two year old literature student, how the hell was he able to figure it out in a span of a handful of minutes while you’ve been so lost?

“What’s stopping you?” Dazai prods, leaning forward.

His eyes are wide and imploring, a warm golden color beneath the rays of the sun; his lips are curved up into a sweet smile and you let all of your suspicions wash away. You reach forward to cup his cheek, watching as he immediately presses his face into your hand, eyes sliding shut as he brushes his lips to your palm before looking back up at you, expectant.

You lean in and graze your lips against his but just as you consider deepening the kiss, you notice that your phone screen has finally flickered on, so you lean back, not catching the way Dazai’s face instantly falls.

“I’m going to go make a few calls—I have to head back to the house to grab my laptop. You want to come in or stay out here for a bit?” you ask absently as you rise to your feet.

“I think I’ll stay out here for a bit,” he says quietly. “Hopefully everything works out.”

You don’t respond as you make your way up the beach back to the house, wincing as you see a spam of nearly forty messages from Chuuya, a dozen from Piano Man, and a handful from Kouyou come in.

Worse, there’s not a single message or missed call from Mori. 

A few hours later, you’re sitting with Dazai on the couch in the beach house watching a movie. He’s resting back against your chest, your arms loose around his waist—you think he’s falling asleep actually, every time you look down, his eyes are drooping shut but then snap back open whenever he realizes that you’re looking down at him. 

You’re being spammed with calls again now that your phone is back on—both Chuuya and Piano Man have been calling and texting incessantly. You think they’re taking turns, honestly, when one isn’t calling, the other is. You had to put their numbers on do not disturb but you did reach out to Klaus and Akutagawa, giving them quick orders to do what they can to fuck with the Guild. 

Now, you’re waiting for a text from Paz to confirm he’s made the necessary movements into the central parts of the US—you had to redirect a weapons shipment from South America up to Paz and his men, so you have to compensate for that with Machado down in Brazil, but he’s always been easily appeased. You’ll just have to take a trip down there some time soon to wine and dine him as an apology.

As soon as you get the confirmation from him, you can put your phone away and just spend the night relaxing with Dazai. Maybe try to figure out what’s going on in this movie. Honestly, neither of you are even really watching the movie so you don’t even know why it’s playing but it’s nice background noise at the very least. 

“Can I ask you something?” Dazai asks quietly after a few moments, playing with your fingers and tilting his head up against your shoulder to look at you.

“You have no idea how much I dread those words coming from you,” you say dryly. “Go ahead. Ask.”

Dazai pouts at your words but there’s a serious look in his eyes that has you on edge, a bit concerned to what he might want to ask you.

“What did Chuuya mean the other night?” Dazai asks after a few moments, as if trying to figure out how he wants to phrase his question. When you only give him a confused look in return, he adds on, “He said that you couldn’t save someone last time. That this time wouldn’t be any different.”

 Immediately, you stiffen and Dazai straightens up from where he’s sitting to turn to look at you, concerned. “I don’t-” you start to say, voice strained and tongue heavy in your mouth. “I-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Dazai tells you, seemingly a bit taken aback by how you’re struggling for words. “It’s okay. I was just wondering.”

You think you should take the out given to you because even just the thought of talking about what happened two years ago with Chuuya and his girl and the Serpent’s Tongue. Even after all of the time that’s passed, the image of Chuuya hunched over her body is still burned behind your eyelids. You still wake up gasping and sweaty with the sound of Chuuya’s screams still ringing through your ears. There are still days where the guilt of what happened is so crushing that you can hardly breathe. 

“Chuuya… he was dating a civilian two years ago,” you find yourself speaking instead but your voice sounds distant, like you’re not talking but instead listening to someone else talk. You don’t even register that your lips are moving, they feel numb and prickly but the words tumble from your lips. “She was our age, a year older maybe. In her third year of university, on track for med school—I think she went to YNU actually. She wanted to be a doctor. I only met her a few times, but Chuuya never shut up about her, would brag about her to anyone who would listen.”

You sit up straight, smoothing your hands up and down against the skin of your thighs a few times anxiously. Your tongue feels weighted, you can hardly bring yourself to continue; you don’t want to continue so you don’t know why you’re trying to force yourself. Dazai’s gaze is so intense that you can’t even bring yourself to look up at him, you keep your eyes trained on your lap even as he reaches out to entwine his fingers with yours.

“How did they meet?” Dazai prods curiously, purposely trying to steer the conversation to a lighter topic when he hears the way your voice wavers.

“He was stupid,” you say, the wry smile that tugs to your lips is a bit more genuine. You pause and then amend, “We were both stupid when we were twenty—thought we were untouchable—but Chuuya especially. Was a bit too arrogant on a mission and got three bullets in the back because of it. He dragged himself out of the warehouse they were ambushed in and into an alley—she was coming back from a late night class and ran into him. Took him back to her place and patched him up, he couldn’t move for three weeks and he didn’t have his phone on him. I went crazy looking for him, thought he was dead or worse, captured.”

Crazy might be understating it, honestly. In the three weeks Chuuya was missing, you all but upended the entire Mafia. There was no information on who the assailants had been, the entire warehouse had burned to the ground and the only three survivors were comatose, so you orchestrated the end of five different organizations that had been pressing their luck in Mafia territory, hoping that one of them had been the culprit. 

Realistically, you had known that if any of the organizations had captured Chuuya, they would have made it known that they had him, but you’d been so viciously angry that you hadn’t even cared in the moment… and you had thought at the time, that if he wasn’t captured, he was almost definitely dead, so you hadn’t wanted to consider the alternative as an actual option.

“But no, he was with a civilian girl who knew damn well from the wounds and his outfit what he was involved with but still decided to help him,” you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. “She was just as stupid as us, I guess.”

“How did you meet her?” Dazai asks curiously. “Did Chuuya introduce you?”

Your smile softens a bit at the edges as you pull his hand into your lap, tracing along the lines of his palm and up his fingers. “Nah, Chuuya tried to keep her out of this as much as possible. Talked all about her but never brought her around, was careful to never give up too much information about her to people he didn’t fully trust.”

You sigh, gaze drifting from his hand over to the window, watching absently as the wind smacks a tree branch against the glass. You think there must be a storm rolling in—you’d noticed that the skies were getting cloudy before the sun had set earlier but you hadn’t thought anything of it. You hope it doesn’t knock the power out—you don’t think this place has a generator. 

“I only met her by chance—was in the area with Klaus handling a small gang that was causing trouble for civilians because I had nothing better to do. I get there and lo and behold, they’ve got Chuuya’s girl backed in an alley. We got there before they could do anything but she was shaken, obviously. Was sweet though, she recognized me from pictures Chuuya has, invited both me and Klaus back to her apartment and made us tea. Chuuya flew across the city when I texted him, crashed right through the window.”

Your lips quirk up into another smile as you remember the way that Chuuya had quite literally crashed through her window, panicked and furious that some lowlives had tried to fuck with her. The way she spent thirty minutes shouting at him for breaking her window and forcing him to go replace it before he even had himself oriented.

Dazai snorts and then quietly asks the dreaded question, “What happened to her?”

“We were stupid,” you repeat, softer this time. “Thought we were untouchable. Chuuya—he’s the strongest ability user in the world—and I’m set to take over the strongest mafia in the eastern hemisphere. No one would dare try to attack either of us because they know it’s futile—a death wish. And we… forgot that the people we love aren’t as protected. That there are people out there who would do anything to try to cripple us if given the chance.”

Your throat swells, an uncomfortable lump forming as you stare ahead blankly, the movie still playing but none of it processing through your brain. You don’t even know what’s happening on it, all you can see are indecipherable blobs moving on the screen. Dazai doesn’t press you to continue but you can still feel him looking at you and the way he squeezes your hand, so you take in a deep breath before continuing.

“It was a Thursday night. Chuuya was meeting her on campus to bring her out of the city for the weekend as a surprise. She never walked out of the building her class was in and when he asked around, they said she never showed up. He went to her apartment to check on her because he realized something was up and the whole place was trashed—blood everywhere, windows shattered, they even killed one of her fucking cats. Chuuya called me but he couldn’t even speak properly, I tracked him to her apartment and realized what had happened.”

He had her other cat in his lap, you remember, stomach twisting uncomfortably. Was kneeling in her blood next to the other one with the living one curled in his lap, licking his wrist as if begging him to get up and snap out of it. You’d never seen him like that before—face so pale that he looked bloodless, eyes wide and haunted, not processing anything around him—he was usually good in emergencies, never froze up, always moved forward. He didn’t even fight Klaus and Akutagawa when you told them to get him to your apartment, to not let anyone see him like this.

“I… he wasn’t in the right state to lead or plan an operation, so I did. I took over,” you say quietly, “and I failed.”

It wasn’t your first failure. Itou’s death was your fault no matter how much people try to convince you otherwise. Even if the information you’d been given wasn’t accurate, you still should’ve been quicker on your feet. You’ve circled the what-ifs in your head over and over again, there were so many routes you could’ve taken but you’d frozen up in the face of a situation out of your control and it cost Itou his life.

Wasn’t your first failure, but it was the first that had been entirely in your control. You took too long to figure out who had her, took too long to get the Black Lizards organized, by the time you got to their base, she’d already been dead.

“They were called the Serpent’s Tongue. A younger organization that had been based in Kyoto before they came to Yokohama. We hadn’t been taking them seriously,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “Should have been, obviously. By the time I’d figured out who had her and where they were… Chuuya was demanding to come with us, wanted to be the first face she saw after getting her out of there. Wouldn’t budge on it. We got there and they left her head for us to find. Chuuya had barged into the room first and…”

You still hear the way he screamed her name in your nightmares, still see how he’d fallen to his knees. He’d unleashed corruption in his grief, devastating the area and nearly killing you with it—when you pulled him out of it, he told you that you should’ve let it take him. You let out a heavy breath, gaze drifting to the side again. 

“I don’t have a good track record for saving people,” you say quietly. “I don’t… her death destroyed Chuuya. And if you… if something happens to you now when I know better…”

You’d never recover from it. Never.

“... That’s why you were so mad,” Dazai realizes after a few moments. When you give him a confused look, he elaborates. “The day we got my suit tailored and I texted you.”

You snort. “I had Chuuya on standby and was about to put the Mafia’s equivalent of the special ops on standby because I thought you were in trouble.”

Dazai flushes bright red. “I didn’t know,” he complains. “How was I supposed to know?”

Your lips curve up into a fond smile as you reach out for him, beckoning him to come back over to you. He pouts but he crawls back over, wrapping his arms around your waist and pushing you back until you’re laying on the couch so that he can lay right on top of you, burying his face in your chest. You bring one hand up to cradle the back of his head, the other sliding down to his back to hold him close to you.

You feel his lips pull up into a smile as he tilts his head up, big brown eyes peeking up at you, a soft brown under the dim lighting of the room, sweet and adoring. You’ve never had someone look at you that way in your life—like you’re something worth being treasured, someone to treat gently. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans up to brush his lips against your jaw and-

And you think you love him.

The thought is so jarring that you almost physically flinch as soon as it crosses your mind. You only realize something’s wrong when you notice that Dazai’s eyes shot open in surprise and instantly, your mouth floods with ash.

No way.

“What?” he breathes out.

“What?” you echo, voice flat.

“What did you just say?” he asks, a bit more rushed, eyes bright but expression hesitant—as if he’s trying to not get his hopes up but can’t help himself. “Tell me what you said. Say it again.”

You have half a mind to deny it but Dazai just looks so… he looks so happy. Hopeful. Like you’ve told him something that he never expected anyone to ever say to him. So all you can do is steel yourself and clear your throat as you say quietly: “I think I love you.”

Dazai doesn’t respond; he stares at you and you think he’s hardly even breathing. His eyes rapidly search your face, desperately trying to figure out if you’re telling him the truth or not and when he finds his answer, he looks entirely devastated, as if you’ve taken his world and ripped it right out from under him.

“I’m not someone made to be loved,” he tells you, voice so quiet that you barely even hear it. His fingers clutch your shirt tightly like he’s scared to let go of you.

Your smile softens. “Yet here I am.”

“You’ll regret it,” Dazai says shakily, throat bobbing as he swallows. “You will.”

A part of you wants to tell him no, that if anyone ends up regretting anything, it will be him—that if anyone isn’t made for love, it’s you—but you don’t have it in you. You raise your hand to cup his cheek, watching as his lashes flutter shut; you lift your other hand to brush his hair back behind his ear.

“I won’t,” you tell him quietly.

“You will,” he insists. “You really will. I-”

“I won’t,” you say again, firmer this time, and Dazai lets out a noise in the back of his throat, dropping down to lay flat against you, hiding his face in the crook of your neck.

His lashes are wet, you can feel the dampness against your skin, and you can also feel how hot his face is. You smile as your hand slides to the back of his head again, absently playing with the dark locks as you tilt your head to the side and kiss his temple.

Dazai takes in a wet, ragged breath at the casual and unexpected action. You can feel his shoulders shake as he tries to regain control of himself and your free hand rests between his shoulder blades, thumb drawing circles against his skin. 

“What happened to the cat?” Dazai suddenly asks after a few moments of him trying to settle down, voice cracking and wavering over the words as he desperately tries to change the subject to something that doesn’t have him on the verge of collapse.

“The cat?”

“The cat, the one that lived. What happened to it?” he asks more insistently, not bothering to even look up from where he’s hiding his face against you.

“Oh.” You realize what he’s talking about. “Chuuya took it in.”

Dazai makes a sharp noise of disgust. “Gross,” he complains. “He doesn’t even seem like a cat person.”

You can’t help the puff of laughter that escapes your lips. “What is your problem with him?” you ask. “You’ve had it out for him from day one.”

Dazai sniffs. “I just don’t like him, that’s all,” he says defensively. “I don’t need a reason.”

“Sure,” you agree, amused. “Whatever you say.”

Dazai lights up suddenly at your words. “Whatever I say?” he prods, finally lifting his face to look up at you, eyes gleaming. You give him a suspicious look but Dazai only gives you a sweet smile in return.

“Nothing,” he sings without you even needing to say anything, making you even more suspicious, but then he lays back down on top of you, nudging his nose against the side of your face. You feel him smile against your skin, he kisses your cheek once, twice and then a third time before settling back down. “Let’s watch Despicable Me.”

“No.”

“You said whatever I say-”

“No!”

“Are you asleep?”

Dazai pouts as he nudges you gently—he’s been wide awake for over an hour now and he knows he shouldn’t bother you considering you didn’t sleep the night before, but he still finds himself seeking out your company. He’s half laying on top of you, head resting on your shoulder as he continues to bop his forehead against your chin to wake you up.

The two of you had gone back to the bedroom a few hours ago and you’d fallen asleep pretty quickly. Dazai had dozed off for a bit too, but he found himself startled awake by a particularly loud cracking noise from outside, a tree toppling over from the wind probably, and now he couldn’t fall back asleep.

And a Dazai left with only his own mind as company is not a good Dazai.

He tried to distract himself with you for a bit. Watched you sleep for a while—creepy as it is, he found peace in watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the soft puffs of air that left your lips, how every time he tried to pull away from you, your brows would furrow and your arms would tighten around him. He’s never had someone who wanted him before, much less someone who wanted him so genuinely and unconditionally that even in their sleep, they seek him out and want him close. He didn’t even know what to think of it, honestly, a part of him was still waiting for you to start laughing and telling him that this is all some big joke.

I think I love you.

His breath shakes the same way it does every time your words echo through his head, fingers trembling from where he’s running them up and down your arm softly. 

Love. Love. Love. 

You love him. Him. Someone who can hardly function on an everyday basis, someone who has to wrap himself up in bandages because he’s embarrassed of what lies beneath them, someone who has only ever had death and misfortune follow him around his entire life. You love him even though you’ve listened to him fumble over words like a fool because he gets tongue tied in your presence, you love him even though he blackmailed you into giving him a chance because he was that desperate for your attention, you love him even though you had to pick him up at the hospital after a failed suicide attempt because he has no one else in his life to call. 

You love him. Him. You love him in spite of all of his flaws—and he knows very well there are a lot of them. You love him in spite of all of the pushback from the people around you. You love him in spite of the fact that your world is completely different from his, in spite of the fact that you could do so much better than him, in spite of the fact that Dazai is Dazai and you’re you and you’re so far out of his league that Dazai doesn’t even think he should be breathing the same air as you, much less curling up next to you in bed. Even though it puts so much at risk—your life, your occupation, everything—you love him still and Dazai just can’t understand it.

And Dazai loves you. 

He does. He thinks he’s known it since the beginning, since that day at the school library when you came over because he was sitting all alone at a table that was clearly meant for a group of individuals and not just one, when you realized something was bothering him so you gave him your name even though he had been rude to you when he got embarrassed over having no friends. Since that day at his apartment complex when you showed up to deal with his shitty landlord; he’d made a joke about how you should waive his rent, not expecting anything of it, and you did. Since you rushed to him while he was at the men’s warehouse—he’d thought it was odd that you seemed so irritated by his dramatics trying to get you to come to him, but now that he knew it was because you thought he was in trouble, thought he was in danger and rushed to him like he was the only thing that mattered even back then…

Dazai loves you, and he didn’t tell you when you told him—he wants to tell you even though the thought of pushing those words out of his mouth terrifies him, so he returns to trying to wake you up.

“Wake up,” Dazai complains quietly, booping his forehead against your chin again. “Wake up, wake up, wake-”

“What’s wrong?” you finally ask through a yawn, voice rough with sleep as you shift a bit. One of your hands comes up to run your fingers through his hair and Dazai hums at the feeling, eyes drooping shut again as he sinks back into your chest. “Dazai?”

“Osamu,” he corrects quietly, “... will you call me Osamu?”

Your fingers still in their steady strokes through his hair and for a split second, Dazai thinks that he misstepped. But then, you lean your head down to press your lips against his forehead and he can only let out a shaky breath, nuzzling his face into your body.

“Osamu,” you repeat, voice soft and a bit more awake—and god, the sound of his given name leaving your lips is almost heavenly, he thinks. 

He can’t remember the last time someone called him by his first name, his aunt was probably the last and it was her screaming at him to get out of his car before she left him to die in Suribachi. It’s an unpleasant memory, and he thinks that maybe he’s only been able to associate his given name with unpleasantness because of it, but this… it makes him feel light and cozy, like the warmth of a hearth surrounding him after spending years alone in the cold wilderness. He thinks he could hear you say his name a million times and never tire of this feeling.

“Osamu, tell me what’s wrong. Why’d you wake me up?”

His lips part to say the three words he planned on saying but they wither and die on his tongue when his eyes meet yours. Even with your words ringing through his head, he can’t bring himself to say it. And it’s silly. It’s silly because he’s scared that if he says it, it’ll be the trigger the gods need to finally rip you away from him—everything he never wants to lose is always lost the moment he obtains it, it’s true, he told you this and he’s been treading such a fine line and he’s terrified that speaking those three words out loud will be enough for the twisted gods above to finally rip the rug out from under his feet.

So, he doesn’t say it.

“Osamu,” you frown—he’ll never tire of it, he has half a mind to ask you to say it over and over and over again, doesn’t care if it makes him seem crazy. “What’s going on?”

He needs to say something—the longer he sits here evading answering, the more concerned you’re going to get, and the more concerned you get, the harder it’s going to be to lie. Dazai’s throat spasms as he instead broaches a different topic that has been bothering him for a few weeks.

“Are you attracted to me?”

It has been a rather persistent thought in the back of his head, even more so since the two of you spoke at the cliff yesterday. At first, he thought maybe it was just because you didn’t really want him—that you were trying to evade any physical intimacy with him because he was backing you into a corner and you were uncomfortable. 

But now? Knowing that you do want him? He doesn’t have any other explanation than the fact that maybe you just aren’t attracted to him… and he’s not sure he can blame you. Who would be attracted to someone who hardly takes care of himself and wraps himself in bandages like a mummy?

You stare at him for a moment, expression too blank for comfort before your brows begin to furrow. The longer you take to respond, the more embarrassed Dazai is.  

“What?” you finally ask, voice stunted and perplexed.

Dazai’s face heats up, regretting his words immediately. 

He should have just told you what he wanted to say originally.

“Nevermind,” he says, rolling over so that his back is to you, not wanting you to see his red face. “Forget it.”

“Hey, no,” you say, suddenly sounding all too awake and Dazai squeezes his eyes shut, wanting to crawl into a ditch and die. “Osamu, what? What are you even talking about? How is that even a question?”

He feels you sit up in the bed next to him and pointedly lays on his stomach to bury his face in the pillow to try to hide himself even as you shift to look over at him. It’s to no avail because you’re a brute and decide to just grab his shoulder to forcibly roll him back onto his back. Dazai scowls up at you, face still aflame. 

“Don’t manhandle me,” he grumbles, averting his gaze but you only shift right back into his line of vision, frowning. “Stop, it’s nothing. Forget it. Really.”

“It’s not nothing,” you say, reaching out to cup his cheek and Dazai thinks you’re entirely unfair because he is simply too weak to your touch so he can already feel himself giving in when you look at him with a slight frown and say, “Tell me.”

Dazai huffs. He huffs and he bristles like an irritated cat, he scowls up at you for forcing him to explain himself and then his shoulders slump in defeat. 

How embarrassing.

“I just… have tried to… initiate things and you… don’t ever… want to?”

Dazai thinks a gun in the mouth might be kinder than this.

And then-

And then you have the nerve to laugh at him. Or, you don’t laugh but you smile and you look like you’re about to laugh, so Dazai jerks up into a sitting position, offended. Your hand falls from his face and instantly, he’s yearning for your touch again. 

“You’re laughing at me,” he accuses, voice dripping with disbelief. “You just laughed at me when I was opening up to you.”

“No,” you say and then laugh. You laugh and Dazai stares at you in abject horror. “No, I’m not laughing at you.”

“You’re laughing at me right now,” Dazai squawks. “You’re-I can’t believe you’re laughing at me.”

“Osamu,” you say, smile softening as you look at him. You reach out again, fingers brushing his skin before your palm settles against his cheek again, thumb so close to the corner of his lips. Dazai’s breath hitches, lashes fluttering as his eyes meet yours. “I knew that if we started something, I wouldn’t be able to stop. So I didn’t want to let it start. I… still thought you’d be better off away from me, out of this life, and I wouldn’t have been able to let go if I let anything happen between us.”

Dazai stares at you for a moment, processing the words, and then confirms, “... So you are attracted to me?”

“Yes,” you say, unbearably amused. “Very.”

“... But why?” Dazai asks quietly, voice a bit too vulnerable for his liking.

“What do you mean why?” 

He clears his throat and looks up at the ceiling as he says, “I’m not anything special, y’know?” He’s careful to keep his voice light and airy, void of all of the insecurity that’s been ripping him apart since the two of you met. “I just don’t get it. You could have anyone you want—literally—so why me?”

You click your tongue and Dazai hears you shift around again, breath catching when you sit yourself right on his lap, lifting both hands to his face now to force him to look at you. With his face settled between your hands and your body flush to his, Dazai has no choice but to meet your gaze head on and he almost dies at the intense look in your eyes, can hardly breathe.

“Do you want me to show you why?” you hum with a teasing smile.

Dazai inhales sharply, eyes widening at the offer. His lips part to respond but no words leave them, so he just nods. You’re not pleased with that response, clearly, from how you raise your eyebrows.

“Yes,” he rasps out. “Show me. Prove that you want me. Please.”

You don’t even waste a second before you’re leaning in to press your lips against his. Dazai’s eyes flutter shut and his breath hitches as you press him back against the plush pillows of the bed. He’s suddenly acutely aware of the rough bandages covering his body that are probably prickling your skin uncomfortably, of his chapped lips and hair that’s a bit too dry because he never properly washes it. 

“The first thing I noticed about you was your eyes,” you say quietly, pulling away from him so your gaze could meet his. He tries to chase your lips but you don’t let him. “I could hardly look away from them. I tried to walk away from you that night at the bar but every time I looked at you, I found myself lost in them.”

Dazai’s throat spasms, face flushing. “Don’t lie,” he tells you, voice hoarse. “Nobody likes my…”

Too wide. Too black. Too empty. Dull. Hollow. Soulless. All things he’s heard people say about his eyes—no one can ever look him in the eyes for too long before they find themselves uncomfortable. 

“I’m not lying,” you say with a soft smile, there’s almost a wistful look in your eyes as you continue. “Right now, they remind me of the night sky, dark and endless, filled with countless glittering stars… I love the stars… They remind me of home.”

Dazai chews on his bottom lip as he stares up at you; he tries to speak but again, he finds himself unable to. You don’t force him to this time though, bringing your hand back to his cheek and running your thumb over his bottom lip as if to stop him from biting at it.

“Under the sun, they’re gold,” you tell him quietly. “The first time I noticed, it was the day we met at the ports. Sunset. You were standing right at the opening of the alley I’d been waiting in with Klaus and the sun hit you just right. You looked so pretty beneath it that I was almost tongue-tied. If we hadn't been interrupted, I would’ve made a fool of myself.”

“You’re exaggerating,” Dazai’s voice wobbles terribly. “You-”

“I’m not,” you murmur. Dazai’s breath shakes as you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips. This time, instead of going back to his lips, you kiss down to his jaw slowly. “The second thing I noticed about you was your smile.”

Too fake. Too teethy. Too strained. Unnatural looking.

“Not the fake one you love to put on,” you say, nipping his skin gently. “Your real one. I got a glimpse of it that day at the cafe—the second time we met—when you realized I’d actually been listening to you that night at the bar. But I really saw it that day at Kido’s when we started talking about poetry… I don’t even think you realized you were smiling, the corners of your lips were curved up and your expression was just so… soft. Peaceful. You looked happy and I think that was the first time I really realized that a large majority of the time you put on a mask when you’re around people.”

When you kiss down to the edge of the bandages around his neck, Dazai thinks you’ll ask him to take them off and he braces himself for the question. Braces himself for the discomfort of being bare in front of someone for the first time… ever maybe, because it’s not like he can say no if you ask him to take them off after he badgered you into this.

But you don’t. You kiss over the bandages as if they’re not even there, you tug at his shirt to get him to lift his arms up for you to pull it off and when you do, you continue kissing down his chest—over the bandages—and don’t even show the slightest bit of discontent about it.

“You’ve seen through me… since all the way back then?” Dazai swallows thickly when your hands rest on his slim waist, breath quickening. “But then why…”

Why did you stay?

“That day at the boutique… I was supposed to cut you off,” you admit quietly, sitting back on his thighs as your hands rest on his hips, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of his sweatpants, but you don’t move to pull them off. Dazai’s body is uncomfortably hot, head frighteningly fuzzy, he can only barely bring himself to listen to your words. “My first thought when I realized that I’d gotten my first glimpse behind your mask was that I wanted to see more of you, wanted to see you smile genuinely, wanted to learn more about you, I wanted you. I’d realized I let it go too far—that I was starting to actually fall for you and I was putting you in danger—but even then, I couldn’t do it.”

His breath shakes as he breathes in and out, fingers digging into your thighs. He parts his lips to say something but you continue before he can.

“I spoke to Chuuya that same night—he told me that this had to stop, that I was going to get you killed. The next time we met was at the ports. One of the Port Mafia’s enemies had seen us together,” you say, expression a bit more serious now. “Klaus killed him. I had the entire organization exterminated that same night.”

Dazai thinks that shouldn’t have turned him on as much as it did. His heart rate spikes at your words, breath quickening and that pool of heat in his lower abdomen gets impossibly hotter, his mind almost entirely shatters at what you’re saying. Your grip on his hips tightens just a bit, lips pressed together as you look down at him with an unreadable expression.

“I would do terrible things for you, Dazai Osamu,” you tell him softy. “I have done terrible things for you and I would do them again and again and again.”

“Please,” Dazai breathes out, and he’s not even sure what he’s saying please for, but you do. 

You do. As always, Dazai is seen when he’s with you and he can’t help the whimper that spills from his lips, the way his eyes mist over with tears. Dazai is seen and he is loved and-and he’s happy. He’s happy—really, truly happy for the first time since Odasaku’s death.

You lean down to kiss Dazai again—this kiss is sloppier than the last few, a frantic clashing of teeth as your hands slide down his body to pull his sweatpants off. Dazai lifts his hips to help you get them off of him, his own fingers clumsily tugging at your silk shorts to try to yank them off of you.

Once he gets them off, his hands drop down to your hips, pulling you down so that you’re sitting flush against him. He moans into your mouth when he finally gets the friction he’s so desperately been aching for, grinding his clothed cock against your panties. He feels almost dizzy with need, lips sliding messily against yours, nails digging crescents into your hips. He thinks maybe he might be able to cum just from this and the thought is embarrassing but he can’t even stop the way he’s rocking his hips up.

Your lips trail from his down to his neck and Dazai tosses his head back against the pillow when your teeth scrape against his skin before you bite down hard, a lewd moan escaping his lips.

“Please,” he gasps again, voice breaking over the only word he seems to be capable of saying. “Please.”

You lean forward as you reach between your bodies to ease his cock out of his briefs and Dazai nearly cums on the spot when he feels your fingers wrap around him, fingers sliding against the precum dripping down his length. You rest your forehead against his, lips dragging across his cheek back to his lips as you press the tip of his cock against your entrance.

He almost says it in that moment—foreheads pressed together, sharing the same sliver of air, both of you breathing shakily as his tip just barely sinks into you—those three words, he almost says them. They almost slip out when his gaze meets yours and he sees the soft, enamored expression on your face as you look down at him.

Dazai’s eyes knock back when you sink down on his cock, lips parted in a silent moan, vision white. For a terrifying moment, Dazai thinks he might’ve cum just from the feeling of your walls warm and tight around his cock. His whole body trembles, his head feels foggy and garbled—he’s speaking, he realizes, but he doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He can feel his lips moving, can hear something leaving them, but he’s so out of it that he can’t even process what it is. 

You nip at his lips once, then twice, before you trail kisses to his ear, savoring in the way he shivers when you tug at his earlobe. You only start to rock your hips when your lips get to that spot behind his ear that makes him entirely incoherent. You suck and nip at the skin as you roll your hips slowly, each drag of his cock against your walls makes him choke over moans. 

He’s not going to last long, he realizes absently, unable to even be mortified by the thought considering how focused he is on your body, warm and flush against his. His hands are moving sliding up your body to your chest, back down your body to your ass—he doesn’t even know what to do with them, honestly, wants to touch every part of you all at the same time, wants to make you feel half as good as you’re making him feel but he can’t even think with your lips sucking at his skin and your cunt squeezing his cock.

His moan breaks suddenly, cracking and quavering as it slips into a sob. His breath is ragged and shuddered, and his vision swims. He feels his cheeks wet and your hands leave from where they’re braced on his shoulders to cup his cheeks. 

Your thumbs wipe away the tears spilling down his cheeks, you lean down to ghost your lips against his temple, and your voice is soft, so soft as you whisper, “I know, baby, I’ve got you. Let go.”

And he does. The taut cord in his abdomen tightens impossibly more before snapping, his nails drag down your thighs, leaving long red marks, his hips snap up and he tosses his head back against the pillows. One of your hands slides from his cheek to wrap around his neck firmly and Dazai is gone—his vision goes dark and spotty, a choked cry of your name escapes his lips and Dazai cums so hard that he thinks he blacks out momentarily.

You lean down and press your lips against his, moaning into his mouth as your walls spasm around him. Dazai’s breath is sharp and quick, lashes wet and heavy, his body twitches and trembles as you ride out your high on his spent cock. He can feel you panting against his skin, your lips sliding from his to press against his cheek as you try to catch your breath.

And Dazai thinks he could stay like this forever, basking in your presence, the feeling of your body pressed to his, his cock still snug in your cunt and one of your hands cradling his face while the other cups the side of his neck, fingers absently playing with the ends of his matted hair. Your forehead rests against his cheek, savoring his presence just as much as he is yours.

He feels warm, he feels safe, he feels loved.

He feels loved.

You shift back just enough to look him in the eye, close enough so that your nose is still brushing his, that you’re still sharing air. Your thumb runs along his cheekbone and your eyes are soft and adoring as you look down at him. As you admire him.

“I could give you countless reasons as to why I want you,” you finally say quietly, “but when it comes down to it, the main reason is because you’re you, Osamu.”

He feels loved. 

Your weekend paradise with Dazai shatters with a single message not even six hours later.

Chuuya: I need you. Going to use Corruption.

smut development: minimal besides some dialogue. she told him that when she saw through his mask, her first desire was wanting to see/know more of him. also tells him what happened after she met him at the ports (ie. having the yakuza exterminated). tells him: i'd do terrible things for you - i have done terrible things for you and i would do them again. then at the very end, she tells him that the reason she wants you is because she's him.

[court-jobi]

Hi, is there any Headcanon of a Married relationship between Izuku Midoriya and the reader? Could you write based on the Canon? Although the Reader, besides being a heroine (Izuku the teacher), is a model for clothing brands, cosmetics, etc! like any celebrity.

The reader is female!

ooooo~ how fun, anon! Let's see what I got... first headcanon request, here we go!!

A/N: I've gotten several fun asks recently, and am moving those larger works to the top of my WIPs as time allows. This is so fun, and you all suggesting prompts like these make it a joy!

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Fem!reader (SFW)

MARRIED HEADCANONS!

Married!Izuku who -even though you're coming up on your third wedding anniversary- still crams love notes on index cards into your e-reader before he leaves for the day. You have it plugged into the side table of the living room and will pick it up as soon as you come home from work to wind down; so even though he will have a later arrival home than you, you'll hardly feel alone with Izuku's words of affirmation pouring out their surprise greeting.

Izuku writes in the middle of the night when he wakes before you- whether by an overactive mind or a nightmare he'd sooner forget. Rather than disturb your much needed rest, will channel reflective thoughts towards you onto paper- and sneaks their secrets around the house where you'll least expect them. Just when you think you know all his hiding spots, he picks a new one to surprise you. Once satisfied with his "journaling" tactic, he'll scoop you back up against him and settle into sleep.

Married!Izuku who chooses a travel tumbler for you every morning and fills it every time it's empty. Car ride ahead? It's crafted with your homebrewed coffee to keep you awake. Got a photoshoot ahead? Water it is, keeping his love hydrated. You are his beloved beverage goblin and though he finds your car to be a tervis graveyard, what's one more dish to wash if it makes you happy?

This man, who will hiss when your hands are too cold against his, getting ramped up far too easily when it comes to worrying over your health... meanwhile Izuku toughs through the worst of allergies himself with a hundred sniffles (and an aversion to cough medicine.) It's one of the first big arguments you had as a couple: you forcing him to take better care of himself when his self-preservation streak peeks through and nearly wears him into the ground during grad school. He'll start to defend himself, only to be caught by flashbacks to the last time he tried managing things on his own, and rightfully apologize. You are a team, and Izuku tries his hardest to let you step in and give him the same care and caution he gives you. It's a hard lesson, managing pride when it comes to taking care of someone so selflessly, and Izuku is still unused to this treatment when turned to himself. You're doing your best, armed with a world of grace to set him straight.~

Married!Izuku who is a phenomenal teacher. One of the most patient souls you've ever met, which is a large draw that led you to date him! You're encouraged to stretch your ways of thinking, listening to his alternative points of view... and find yourself marveling that a man who's so closely engrossed with training the next generation of heroes is still so happy to watch the news at the end of the day in hopes of learning more!

You've gifted him a notetaking tablet that's meant to replace his waning supply of favorite notebooks, but if you find that blue Campus brand in a shop that's selling your brand deals somewhere, you are absolutely picking it up for him. He cries every time you make him close his eyes and hold out his hands, producing your surprise in giddy silence. "They don't make this edition anymore!! H-HONEY!!"

^^^After a day of sparring with his students -giving them a run for their money- you'll be the one patching him up out of sight of Recovery Girl, everything from a lightly busted lip to each blooming bruise he's gonna feel in the morning. You're surprised he's getting hit as much as he is when he's still renowned as one of the heartiest teachers at UA- quirk or not, he is no lightweight. You may worry over him just as much, but with your honorary brother-in-law 'Kacchan' running drills on him on the weekends, you know Izuku is in tip-top shape. No one is invincible, after all.

Will gladly talk to your mom on the phone~ welcomes it, actually! Izuku wants to learn every little tidbit and creature comfort he can about you, so any nerves he had about meeting your family when you began dating dissolved once he kept that goal in mind. (This mentality won your father over well, to a comical degree once Izuku showed him the notes folder on his phone with your die-hard favorite secret pleasures only a loved one would know...) Allmight makes his trip to your dinner table every other week or so, becoming a ready and available father figure to you while yours lives hours away. It does your heart a world of good sitting in his nurturing company.

Married!Izuku will carry your luggage to and from the airport without a single grunt or complaint (That's what he continues to work out for, even as a teacher!) A few tears upon departure and arrival, sure, but will always ground himself steady in his pride over the hard work you're putting in. He's the one who calls to wish you a goodnight when you're on location for hero support, and a sends a text for every morning and lunch break. Regardless of timezone, he's going to make sure you are part of his routine like nothing's changed. You rely on this consistancy more than life. Living apart -even short term- is expected at this stage of your career where you're needed more than ever to help fund your hero ventures through sponsorships... but Izuku will forever be your biggest supporter.

///Little does he know, you are cramming in twice as many roles to help fund a certain someone's hero suit development, per Bakugou's discretion. It's the one, solitary lie of omission you keep from your husband, but one you trust is going to be worth it in the end to see him shine where he wants to once again. He'll always be your hero, but you'll help him see that realized self any way you can.///

Married!Izuku will be flooding the groupchat with every single advertisement that features your face. Every last one. And there are many. The girls will share you on each of their socials in support of whatever you are sporting, while the boys will... look respectfully and congratulate Izuku on his absolute knockout of a girl. Izuku is just insanely proud of his wife and will make it everyone's problem~

He may be operating on a teacher's salary, but is the most thoughtful gift-giver. Married!Izuku will choose experiences over 'things' when it comes to you, like vacationing to the largest library in the world where you can spend hours holed up on a loveseat somewhere, taking notes on all the old tomes you find, using those classic academia desks as if you were still at the 'study abroad' college where you met... Trip planning gives you both something to look forward to amidst your busy schedules, and takes the financial pressure off you both as well. Not that he won't still treat you to just about anything you ask for when you're giving him that sweet, small 'please' standing in the checkout line at the corner store...

Married!Izuku, who misses you adorably when you're not home. He runs a fairly typical working schedule that lines up with yours for the most part-- makes him the happiest, coming home to you! You adhere to a few sacred rules in your shared home: you always go to bed together, you can occasionally go to bed angry- but always remain in each other's corners, and you know giving him head scritches is the easiest way to make Izuku pliant enough to sleep. He'll nurse your migraines that aren't so pretty, you'll give his hands massages when the phantom pains make them ache. Whatever you can do to give your man some ease into his life, you give wholeheartedly.

You'll kiss Izuku's every trouble away; and the ones that linger, you'll tend to as gently as you can until you can replace the thoughts with something sweeter, kinder, delicately on his still-healing heart when the embers remind him of old hurts you weren't around to see. You care for Deku just as you do your darling Izuku- as they are two sides of the same coin. You polish and affirm them both, strengthening all the parts that have made your life partner the man he is today. That made him him.

Married!Izuku: your darling husband with eyes that light up when you enter a room, mist up when they see you down, and stare eternally grateful on you as you listen and take in every word he has to give and through every promise shared-- just like your vows.

[kimingyuslover]

shattered promises

synopsis: in a relationship marked by constant arguments and unfulfilled promises, you seek clarity from Jeonghan about your future together.

word count: 1,543 & some edits

genre: angst

warning: tears, jeonghan is an asshole, 6 and a half year relationship!!! lowercase intended

a.n: kinda rushed ending(?), i had a writer block while making this t__t. I hope y'all enjoy this. Also, i finally updated something on my account, lol

☆ check out my other works > main masterlist

argument after argument keeps happening inside of your relationship with him, whether it's because of something small or big.

in the past, these fights would simmer down after a few hours, ending with whispered apologies and lingering touches. but now, things feel different. after years of cycling through the same frustrations, you find yourself standing at a crossroads. you need clarity, certainty, something more.

"do you plan on taking our relationship to a serious level?" you ask, breath shaking, and your voice seems to waver.

he's silent, not wanting to answer your question, because he knew he'd say the same thing– he's not ready.

you sigh, the weight of his unspoken words crashing down on you. quietly, you retreat to your shared bedroom and pull out a large suitcase. slowly, methodically, you begin packing your belongings.

while Jeonghan stays seated on the living room couch, his mind running hundreds of miles per hour, he just needs to wait for your reaction. either you'll lock yourself in your shared bedroom like you always do or the worst thing that he could ever imagine, you broke the relationship you have with him.

Jeonghan, initially optimistic that the argument will blow over like before, realises with dread that this time it's different.

His stomach churns at the thought of the worst-case scenario: you leaving him for good.

minutes later, he hears the unmistakable sound of luggage being dragged. alarmed, Jeonghan rushes to the staircase, his heart pounding. at the top of the stairs, he sees you—three suitcases packed and ready.

"no, no, no," he mutters under his breath. He wasn’t expecting this. the arguments were familiar territory, something you always overcame. he thought this would be no different.

"I've made up my mind" you said to him, still a little struggling carrying all of your suitcases.

Jeonghan's eyes widen in panic. the woman he thought he’d love forever is walking out of his life, and he doesn’t know how to stop it.

“you're everything i want, Jeonghan–

you pause, the usual softness in your voice replaced with quiet resignation. no more "baby." no more "my love." none of the pet names he adored so much.

"You’ve always told me I’m ‘the one,’ but I’ve never felt like it. I’ve tried to hold on, but I can’t just survive anymore—I need to live. I love you, Jeonghan. I really do. I always will."

your words hang in the air, heavy with finality.

Jeonghan opens his mouth to speak but quickly closes it again, realizing he has no answer—nothing that can undo the years of uncertainty he’s put you through.

"You’ve been inconsistent," you continue, tears threatening to spill. "We’ve been together almost seven years, and you still tell me you’re not ready for something serious. I told you, from the start, that I wanted more by the time we hit four years. But I’ve been waiting... and hoping... and I just can’t do it anymore."

“but i guess i'm hoping too much, i shouldn't be putting hope to you when i first asked you at our 5 year anniversary, it may be selfish of me for thinking this way, thinking that maybe you want to be wed to me as much as i want to be wed to you, i'm always wrong. thank you for the memory though, i've learned a lot from this” with that you drag your suitcases and walk past Jeonghan whose legs are pinned to the floor, even when he heard the closing of that one door.

You still hope, deep down, that he’ll chase after you, beg you to stay, promise to change. But as the seconds turn into minutes, and the minutes stretch into ten, the apartment door remains closed behind you.

By the time the elevator reaches the ground floor, you know—he’s not coming.

You step into the night, flagging down a taxi to take you away from the place that once felt like home.

.........................

meanwhile, Jeonghan is still seated at his couch, replaying every word you say to him earlier. His brain is still processing everything that happens, the argument, confusion, and regret fully filling his head.

all he knows is, the next second, his brain finishes, swallowing every piece of information he got, tears already staining both of his cheek, and it's too late to chase you.

he hurriedly searches for his phone, wanting to call you, but he halts his movement, thinking that you would want some space after the big argument.

so he didn't call you.

.........................

Three and a half years pass.

Jeonghan steps off the plane at Incheon Airport, his sleek black hair neatly styled, his black trousers and white button-up making him look polished yet distant. he’s returned from Italy, where work projects with Woozi kept him occupied, but no matter how far he went, he could never escape the thoughts of you.

he's hoping that this time, you will gave him another chance, because he's ready now, to be in a serious commitment with you.

in fact, he already has the ring on him, he just has to find you again, making you his again and you will live happily ever after.

arriving at the old apartment, he feels a strange mix of hope and dread. he’s never let go of the memories you shared there, good or bad.

he picked up his mail from the receptionist, giving him a smile before walking to the lift carrying his things.

A few minutes pass and he finally arrives at his apartment.

after he takes a shower and gets dressed, he wants to start opening his mail one by one, but something catches his eyes, an envelope with your name on it.

for a fleeting moment, his heart leaps. but then he notices another name below yours: Choi Seungcheol.

he opens it, and he doesn't even think he can handle his heart breaks again, but it does happen.

it was your wedding invitation, with that man.

all of his hope was getting crushed by the simple “we're getting married!” text inside of the invitation and the pre-wedding photos of you and seungcheol.

the photos show you and Seungcheol, radiant and in love. the invitation is beautiful, but it feels like a dagger to his heart.

all of it was beautiful, but it's not him who you married, it was not your wedding invitation, it was not his intention when he came back overseas.

the things he had in his mind long gone, only filled with the regret that starts to fill up his body painfully slowly.

he curses under his breath, tears streaming down his face, nothing can't stop it anymore, his sobs are getting louder.

.........................

days later, Jeonghan finds himself seated in a church pew, his hands clasped tightly together. the music begins, and all eyes turn toward the doors. You appear, arm-in-arm with your father, wearing the wedding dress you once described to him as your dream. you look breathtaking.

the music starts to play, all the guests turn around to see the big door opens then there's you and your father. The gown fits your form gracefully with the veil covering your face and there's crown on your head.

you really look like a princess, and Jeonghan remember that you had told him that this is your wedding dream look.

lots of guests start tearing up, including him.

tears well in Jeonghan’s eyes, though not from joy like the other guests. he watches as you walk down the aisle, each step taking you further away from the life you once shared with him.

everything feels like it's going slow, the way you walk down the aisle delicately with your father by your side while holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers and seeing your fiancé ahead with the officiant, the slow music fills the air and makes this scene even more beautiful.

and god, you're so gorgeous in that dress, a smile etching both at yours and seungcheol's face, happy moments really shared through the air.

after the officiant announces you as wife and husband, seungcheol launches at you, kissing you deeply while Jeonghan and the other guests clapping and smiling, except his was fake.

your "I love you"s and shared smiles are beautiful, but they aren’t meant for him.

morning turns into evening, the sun finally gets tired and decides that it was the right time to get some sleep while the moon is rising to replace the sun's work.

all the people you invite watching you slow-dance with the one you love.

Jeonghan swallows the lumps in his throat with a shot of vodka while seeing you with seungcheol, his heart burns and so does his body.

this time, his heart is shattered, he knows he loves you but he has to let you go, because you're someone else’s now.

you're not his girlfriend anymore and you will never be again, he regrets not being able to fix his mistakes, and he regrets not being able to be your husband so he can be by your side as long as you live.

he will mourn every single day of his life until he dies, the pain of missed chances, and unfulfilled promises will always haunt him

[ploppythespaceship]

So to absolutely no one's surprise, the new Section 31 movie is quite bad. Critics are tearing it to pieces, and rightfully so. As IGN said, "Section 31 will infuriate Star Trek fans and bore everyone else." And... yeah, that's about right. I don't know if it's the worst Trek movie ever made, but it's certainly in one of the bottom slots.

This post has no major spoilers, but I am putting it under a cut because it turned into a long rant.

The core problem here is the cast. It's an ensemble piece consisting of characters ranging from mildly boring to actively irritating. There's no depth or interesting dynamics at play here. Just a bunch of characters trying to be zany and edgy.

Which brings me to the next issue -- the tone. Basically, this movie wants to be James Gunn's Suicide Squad, but it doesn't understand the careful balance needed to pull that off. It wants to be the edgy, gritty Star Trek movie where people get to murder and be bad, while also having wacky side characters that get to joke around. The result is that half the cast feels like it's in a gritty drama, and the other half feels like it's in a bad comedy.

To emphasize how bad this issue is -- the very last line of the movie is a yo mama joke. No, I am not kidding.

The pacing is pretty bad. You can tell that this was conceived as a miniseries before being cut down to a 90 minute film. The whole thing feels choppy and uneven. They spend too long in some sections and then not long enough in others. At one point halfway through, I literally said out loud, "Oh that's where episode one would have ended," because you could practically feel the entire film switch gears.

We also don't see enough of Georgiou and San's relationship, which the climax sort of hinges on. All we get are flashbacks of them pressing foreheads together in a backlit room, saying that they're one.

This either needed to be stretched back out to a full miniseries -- which probably still would have been pretty bad -- or it needed to be drastically reworked to better suit its runtime.

The style is also absolutely all over the place. It's trying to emulate something like Suicide Squad or Guardians of the Galaxy, but with a laughable incompetence. The first scene left me gaping in awe of how terrible the editing was. There are so many badly placed cross-fades, extended establishing shots, weird almost-music-sequences that aren't willing to commit... then other scenes will just be filmed normally. If they wanted this film to have its own distinct style, they needed to fully commit to it, and make that part of the story's core identity. This just feels like they tacked things on without fully understanding how to actually utilize them.

And the QUICK ZOOMS. This might be a weird thing to fixate on, but I genuinely felt like I was losing my mind. This movie would not stop doing quick zooms, on everything, for every scene. You'll be watching two characters exchange quiet, calm dialogue, and the camera just keeps cranking in closer to their faces. It's just another stylistic choice that they're doing without any real understanding of why.

Perhaps most irritatingly, this movie fundamentally misunderstands the concept of Section 31. First, they just don't get the most basic premise of the organization they based their entire movie on. A Starfleet officer is an official part of their team, expressly there to serve as their Federation oversight. Excuse me?? Did you watch a SINGLE previous Section 31 episode?? The entire point of this group is that they exist beyond official oversight.

But even worse, I'm not sure these writers understand that Section 31 are the bad guys. One of Georgiou's lines is, "Section 31 is just the place for officers who bend the rules, never quite break them, until they do." The final scene has Garrett fondly calling Georgiou a "bad bitch." And the team doesn't really do anything all that morally questionable -- they all just crack terrible edgy jokes the whole time. In this movie, Section 31 genuinely is just Starfleet but edgy, and it pisses me the hell off.

Genuinely, the utter misunderstanding of Section 31 is one of my least favorite things about modern Trek. I really hope this movie's reception will convince them to just shelve the group entirely for a while.

I do think a decent version of this movie could have existed. Cut the entire side cast to have a tighter focus on a trio of Georgiou, Alok, and Garrett. Georgiou and Alok have a similar enough backstory that they could develop a really interesting dynamic with more screentime. And Garrett can be there as the Starfleet officer who stumbled into the situation against her will, and tries to maintain her moral compass while also recognizing that drastic action is needed to defend the Federation.

Then you could actually explore the meaningful differences in morality between these characters. Touch on the core themes of what Section 31 was originally meant to be. Do the ends justify the means? At what point have you gone too far? And with Georgiou specifically -- is it even possible for someone like to her to seek redemption? Can she truly earn it?

Instead, we get a bland movie that isn't interested in exploring any deeper meanings. It just wants to be an edgy Star Trek version of Suicide Squad. And that's a damn shame.

[bon2bonn]

Weathering Your Storm

22!F1 grid X female!driver!reader

° Venture your silent sea

Part 2.2

Words count : 2.3k?(excluding the texts).

It's finally done!

Warnings : grammar,not edited, not proof read.

*it's long and packed , and I hope you enjoy reading it .

F1.grid masterlist

...............

Two weeks gone by and now she had her mind was made , she had her time to think and evaluate her career in new light away from the pressure of actually driving and having her view clouded with the rush of her hectic schedule with no time to breathe . So she took a step back , not complete letting go of hope but to process what she's doing and what to come .

She went off the grid but her dad as always found his way to her , not that she minded but she felt the weight of thinking that she failed him somehow , he didn't say anything after she told him what went on that weekend , expecting some sort of a grand reaction but he just looked at her and asked " are you okay?" She wasn't sure how to answer but she shrugged " I don't know yet" , he nods and went on with collecting firewood as they were doing before she stopped abortly to tell him not expecting this , it was like ripping a bandaid and I felt like one .

Hours later they both sat at the fire side by side in a content silence, she took a look at her father finding him lost in thoughts staring at the fire ahead and before she could stop herself she asked " are you disappointed?" He glanced at her hunched form , knees up to her chest and her hands around them , he saw that little girl trying to act tougher than her heart is . He asked back "about what?" She gave him a quick glance picking a dry branch to doodle on the dirt before her " disappointed in me" he scratched his growing stubble in thought " and why would I be?" She cleared her throat " you know, I basically got fired mid-season with no seat for next season or even a chance in the reserves " he gave her a knowing look asking bluntly " and why would that make you think I'm disappointed in you?" She rubbed her forehead " cause I feel like I failed " he gave her a long look , gathering his thoughts and turning in his foldable camping chair " I already told you , and I'll keep on doing so until you accept it. You are never going to disappoint me, I'm beyond proud of what you've done and what you'll ever do because I know how hard you worked to reach where you are now , and with a seat or non I'm still proud of you . Yeah I'm saddened that you won't be out there driving to your heart content for now but it's not your last race" she cuts him " but you don't know that, so far no team reached out and they know how chaotic it'll be to give me a seat , they won't take the chance , not after this" giving her a shrug he kept going " I just know , the same way I knew you're destined for great things when you drove your first race , hard headed and determined, holding your head high and beating all those taller boys with their mean dads" they both chuckled at the memory, as he added " it's will take time " she lowered her head " but what if I never get any seat ? , what if I got a seat and it turned up worse than last year ? , what if I stopped racing?" He sighed heavily before answering " for the worst and the best cases I'll be there for you , and if you wanted to quit I'll still support you and still be as much proud of you , it's your journey to fulfill it the way you see fit and no matter what remember it's yours so don't let anyone or their words or decisions makes you forget that . You hear me ?" She nodded in understanding giving him a determined smile as he ruffled her hair up laughing as she groaned in annoyance smacking his hand away before pulling on her cap and tying her hood up covering her head and pulling the strings to secure it around her face .

Both basked in silence watching the wooden logs crack in the fire but got startled as his phone pinged with a new message

(from Max's pov 🤭):

He chuckled quietly cause her to raise an eyebrow in suspicion " What got you laughing?" He shook his head turning off his phone before leaning towards the fire his elbows on his knees and he turned his face to her in a serious manner " have you thought about what I proposed?" She nods with a groan " I did and I might take your offer " he gave her a knowing smile " it's only till you get a seat and it might be sooner than you think , but you'll have fun and still travel whenever you want aaaaaaaaand" she tilted her head in question earning a huff from him before he explained " you'll get to be your own boss !" She gave him a side eyes " if it's soo great , why are you dumping it on me? " He leaned back and crossed his hands behind his head sighing dramatically " I want to live my life too, I'm still young , I'm going out to date again , find me a ...." She cuts him with a disgusted face " DAD! Ew no ! I don't want to know about you romantic life , last time was traumatic enough!" He laughed at her face throwing a punch of dry leaves at her " oh ! Grow up, be grateful I'm not snooping into your nonexistent love life!" She gasped in offence " Wow! Just wow! My own dad is bullying me!" She stood up dramatically ", you know what!? I quit! Find you a new person to run your business" he held his hand to his chest as he kept on laughing " I didn't even hire you yet!" She only groaned louder sitting back down and chucking a wrap paper at him as he kept laughing, joining him eventually as the both spent their night with her relieved that a weight is off her shoulder.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Two days later

Settling back home in Monaco after your trip turned you back to the stressing atmosphere, as days gone by and it now settled in that you've got no seat for the rest of the season, let alone next season or the one after . Getting back home was both the best and worst thing to do right now . Still got piled stacks of paperwork to do , piled forms to sign and things to move , but staying in your bed looked more appealing than doing anything else so that's what you choose for now .

The news is yet to spread , but it's only a matter of time before it gets leaked , your face blastered on every sports site and every gossip magazine , you can already see the headlines . the slander and rumours of why would a team like Mercedes suddenly drop their driver mid-season ? Speculations and allegations of every absurd theory under the sun would make appearance , But that's for future you to worry about, now you just want to sleep in and let shit happen .

Glancing at your phone on the bedside table , having it turned off for the past two day after ignoring calls and emails asking about your whereabouts . It'd only take sometime before someone figured out where you dipped to or Danny might fall under pressure and snitch on you and come barging in dragging you out of your so called hibernation . You made a note to come up with a way to tell the guys later . telling them rather than them finding out from media or worse George himself , so you gotta make the most of the quite atmosphere as possible.

But That didn't last long , half hour later and someone's already bounding on your door , opting to ignore it as whoever is knocking is bound to get tired or think noone is here and leave . But that didn't happen , 10 minutes and they won't leave , you huffed removing the pillow off your head and getting up shoving the covers aside sliding out and blindly heading to see who's trying to break your front door down , throwing on the first thing you found on your way out , one of Danny's old hoodies you've stole and claimed as yours , covering your messy hair with the hood and trying to wipe the sleep out of you eyes , Praying silently to every higher power there is to not be one of the guys .

Groaning quietly as whoever is knocking covered the Peep hole ,so after contemplating for a second before swinging the door open startled by who stood before you , he smiled at your stunned face " you're a very hard person to reach Y/N " you kept looking at him in confusion before snapping out as he asked" would you mind if I came in? " .

•••••••••••••

~~~~~~

The guys showed up as promised all concerned about you but as well relieved to finally see you before them , easing their minds for moments as they anticipated your words .

They settled in around after dinner , no one was joking around as usual or starting a conversation, all waiting for you somberly to say what's in your chest as they waited patiently , Daniel gave you a reassuring smile squeezing your shoulders as he sat on the single chair by the window along with the rest , all except lando who kept shaking his leg up and down nervously so you decided to put him out of his misery as you stood before them " I just wanted to wait to tell you face to face instead of you finding out from the media or someone else, well , I basically no longer have a seat " they looked at you in silence still not processing what you've just said, so you elaborated " I'm no longer part of the grid formation" the first to respond was Max who shook his head in denial " No" you sighed at his response , next to him was lando looked at you in guilt not finding the courage to say anything in fear it'll make the situation worse so he opted to keep his mouth shut , Carlos was spacing out so you opted to let him process it more before snapping him out , Charles looked very confused as he asked " why? " , you shrugged at him sitting down as you spoke again " I honestly don't know, they wanted me out and here I am " Carlos snapped at this " what about your contract?" . You shook your head " already terminated " they all looked bewildered , various " what!?" Sounded around the room " they already signed another driver for the second half of the season " Charles whispered " you're not even finishing the season?" You shook your head in answer .

Max stood up hands balled up and shoulders tense " who signed?" You refused to answer so he looked at Danny who sat back not having the same shocked reaction like the rest of them " you knew , so tell me who they signed for that fucking seat?" He looked at you before turning to him in defeat " It's not my place to tell " max scoffed at him before turning to you again " why ?" You glared at him " cause I know you won't hesitate to go up and fight him over it , I won't let you do something that stupid " he challenged you " well whoever that bastard is he deserves what's coming for him" you pinched between your eyebrows " No Max, he doesn't" he tilted his head asking " so you just give up to him , you've worked your ass for them and now they just swiped you aside and signed someone else!" Charles stood trying to calm him " Max, hey , calm down for a minute " he ignored him , still irritated so you know he needs to get it out so you let him " I'm not calming down! Why should I ?" Carlos spoke up next " cause you are not the only one who's upset about it " Danny agreed " we all are beyond pissed believe me" you added next " but you have to remember 'never take anything personally in this sport' , yeah i lost my seat so what !? It's not like It's the end of the world " and before he could argue you stopped him " here's the thing all of you can be pissed as much as you want here in this room you can scream and yell as much as like to get it off your chest , but the moment you step out it stays here , cause out there it won't affect you as it'll me , I'm already out so what can they do more ? , But you're not, you still got your season to finish, so you have to promise you won't do anything out there because I won't be there to smack any sense back into you brains " .

He stared back at you folding his arms challenging you " I won't promise you anything until I know who is he " you glared back not fazed " I won't tell if you won't promise " you both started each other down before Carlos groaned smacking you both to cut it out " fine I promise!" You gave him a deadpanned look " George" Charles asked with wide eyes " Russell!?" Daniel nods " the one and only" Carlos turned to Max who got eerily quite compared to earlier " Max ?" He just nods curtly before sitting down not uttering a word for the rest of the night .you clapped after a beat of heavy silence " so! , who's up for desert?" .

[astrobiscuits]

Astro observations part 8

[LONG EDITION] - taken from my phone's notes (also, i was too lazy to edit it so here's a nice chunk of info)

🍂 Sun conjunct Saturn individuals inherit mindsets from the father, grandparents or great-grandparents. They might never fully act like their Sun sign (aka "shine"), since they've been conditioned from a young age to listen to parents, teachers, and later on bosses. They are the type to never divorce, no matter how toxic their marriage is. If these peeps deal well with their Saturn Return, they might become "THE BOSS" (aka the person everyone looks up to due to how accomplished, disciplined and rich they are, they've literally got their shit together and deserve a round of applause, "it wasn't easy to get to the top, but it was worth it" - you might hear them say this). They are also more prone to ingrain stoic principles in their lifestyle

🍂 Mars square Neptune gives off major cult leader vibes. They're the type to fool you with false promises until you sign up for their "camp" but then you realize it's actually an evil cult where all they wanna do is put you to work (and maybe later even kill you lol). These individuals become very scary when angry (you don't wanna see them angry, trust me). If they ever commit suicide, it'll be by drowning, alcohol or drugs

🍂 Mars trine Neptune is one of the best aspects for those who make a living off their talents. The talent depends on the element the trine is in:

If it's in Earth signs - ideal for those who work in the "money handling sector" in advertising, becoming an entrepeneur, holistic care (if Virgo is involved), cooks, those who work in interior design, seamstresses, embroidery/lace makers, models, event planners If it's in Air signs - ideal for those who work in sales (their negotiation skills are ✨chef's kiss👌🏻✨), becoming a spiritual/religious teacher or an art/music/any other creative pursuit teacher (lmao, i can't even speak💀💀), writers, musicians, magicians and astrologers (for the last two - if Aquarius is involved) If it's in Fire signs - ideal for dancers, theater/movie actors, hairstylists, circus performers, photographers (only if Leo is involved) If it's in Water signs - ideal for make-up artists, painters, tarot readers

🍂 Moon sextile Uranus individuals have got the ability to create a positive parasocial relationship with their followers. Since these people often use their devices to validate their emotions, i wouldn't be surprised if most of y'all also have atleast one active profile where you post quite frequently

PRO TIP: Whenever Transit Jupiter is trining/conjuncting your Natal Uranus (to a less extent also the sextile), you'll get a sudden boost in your followers count

🍂 This is a theory of mine that i've come up with and i'd love to hear your thoughts on it. When it comes to intergenerational astrology, i do believe that we inherit all of our personal planets placements from our parents and ancestors. But then you might say "But i don't act like my mother at all! This is bullshit!". I'm not saying we're all carbon copies of our family members. What makes us unique and distinguishes us from our parents and grandparents (or even great-grandparents) are the way the planets aspect each other in our birth charts and the planetary configurations between them. Basically we start from the same ground, but we all use our traits differently, whether for the better or the worst expression of them. Let's not forget that we also tend to go through different life experiences than our parents and grandparents; we might be blessed with different opportunities that might enhance our best traits and help us achieve what our ancestors always wanted to but weren't able to

Hope you enjoyed today's post, loves!💗💗💗 I've been wanting to post for a while now but my inspiration has been wandering alone in the Sahara Desert I can't promise that i'll start posting again more frequently (the new uni year is starting soon for me + i enrolled in a local astrology school 2 weeks ago🥳🥳 ya girl can't wait to officially become an astrologer) but my inbox will be open again for further questions! I must also thank you for helping me hit 500 followers!!! I'm probably gonna do another ask game once i hit 600 followers, as i'm too busy right now. As always, don't forget to drink water and take care of yourselves! Hope to see you soon! ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[carlyraejepsans]

mind if i get sappy both negatively and positively for a sec?

if you've been following me for a while you'll remember just last year when i was still in highschool and i was so, so lonely and this blog was getting more popular than i meant for it to be. i was a wreck. i had straight up nightmares about hypothetical call outs and people taking my words out of context to turn people against me and that I'd lose the few people i genuinely thought of as friends. i used to go over my old posts deleting them and obsessively editing the wording when i felt it could be twisted to mean something else. even worrying that the fact they COULD have a double meaning meant i was secretly a horrible person in some sick freudian sense. not a good time to have moral OCD! or anon asks open, lmfao.

and i look at my past self now, after my biggest fear realized so many times it's now a monthly annoyance at worst and well. of course i did. i had no one else! that was the extent of my friendships at the time. the people i met and came to love online were the only place i felt truly safe to be myself around without having to fight for my right to be respected or putting on a persona.

but guess what? that's not the case anymore. I'm out of my parents' house, i have authority over my own decisions and presentation, i have friends at school (real friends! more than I've ever had simultaneously in my life!) that enjoy my company in person and include me in the things they do, fully respecting my chosen name and identity as a trans person. i have a queer community to share my burdens and my joys with, i am finally, finally getting started on HRT which is a dream I thought I'd never reach... and guess what. even my online friends didn't give a fuck. i was so paranoid about being alone again that i forgot to consider that they... also care about me, just like i care about them. that they're not gonna dump me out of nowhere because some random asshole decided i was their parasocial nemesis of the week, and if they had doubts or questions wbout something, we could discuss it in private and either agree or agree to disagree on friendly terms.

idk I'm just doing the best I've ever done in my life. this period of my life is perhaps the first time I've ever felt like a complete and whole person. it gets me a little tender hearted looking back and seeing how much I've grown since the time "something like this" would've been world ending.

anyway if any of this rings familiar to you, know I'm proud of you as well. in the way you've grown AND in the way you will grow, given time. hold the line, soldier. things get getter. that's a promise.

[munchmemes]

taylor swift lyrics, the tortured poets department edition, part two

guilty as sin?

▸ my boredom's bone-deep. ▸ am i allowed to cry? ▸ i'm seeing visions, am i bad? or mad? or wise? ▸ one slip and i'm falling back into the hedge maze. ▸ oh, what a way to die. ▸ i keep recalling things we never did. ▸ how i long for our trysts. ▸ how can i be guilty as sin? ▸ i keep these longings locked inside a vault. ▸ someone told me there's no such things as bad thoughts, only your actions talk. ▸ they're gonna crucify me anway. ▸ what if they way you hold me is actually what's holy? ▸ i choose you and me religiously.

who's afraid of little old me?

▸ the "who's who?`" of "who's that?" is poised for the attack. ▸ you don't get to tell me about 'sad'. ▸ if you wanted me dead, you should've just said. nothing makes me feel more alive. ▸ who's afraid of little old me? you should be. ▸ the scandal was contained, the bullet had just grazed. ▸ at all costs, keep your good name. ▸ you don't get to tell me you feel bad. ▸ is it a wonder i broke? ▸ let's hear one more joke. then we could all just laugh until i cry. ▸ i was tame, i was gentle till the circus life made me mean. ▸ they say they didn't do it to hurt me but what if they did? ▸ i want to snarl and show you just how disturbed this has made me. ▸ you wouldn't last an hour in the asylum where they raised me. ▸ isn't that what they all said? that i'm fearsome and i'm wretched and i'm wrong. ▸ you lured me and you hurt me and you taught me. ▸ you caged me and then you called me crazy. ▸ i am what i am 'cause you trained me.

i can fix him (no really i can)

▸ the jokes that [you/they] told across the bar were revolting and far too loud. ▸ they shake their heads, saying "god help [them]" when i tell 'em you're the one. ▸ i can fix him, no really i can. and only i can. ▸ i could see it from a mile away. ▸ you had a halo of the highest grade, you just hadn't met met yet. ▸ come close, i'll show you heaven if you'll be an angel all night. ▸ trust me, i can handle me a dangerous [man/woman].

loml

▸ we were just kids, babe. ▸ i don't mind, it takes time. ▸ i thought i was better safe than starry-eyed. ▸ i felt aglow like this. never before and never since. ▸ you and i went from one kiss to getting married. ▸ you said i'm the love of your life about a million times. ▸ a conman sells a fool a get-love-quick scheme. ▸ i felt a hole like this never before and ever since. ▸ what we thought was for all time was momentary. ▸ i wish i could un-recall how we almost had it all. ▸ the coward claimed he was a lion. ▸ i'll still see it until i die. you're the loss of my life.

i can do it with a broken heart

▸ i can show you lies. ▸ i'm a real tough kid, i can handle my shit. ▸ they said 'you gotta fake it 'til you make it' and i did. ▸ you said you'd love me all your life but that life was too short. ▸ i can do it with a broken heart. ▸ i'm so depressed, i act like it's my birthday every day. ▸ i cry a lot but i am so productive, it's an art. ▸ you know you're good when you can even do it with a broken heart. ▸ i can hold my breath, i've been doing it since [you/they] left. ▸ i'm miserable and nobody even knows!

the smallest man who ever lived

▸ was any of it true? ▸ now you know what it feels like. ▸ i don't miss what we had. ▸ in public, you showed me off then sank in stoned oblivion. ▸ you didn't measure up in any measure of a man. ▸ were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? ▸ good riddance 'cause it wasn't sexy once it wasn't forbidden. ▸ i would've died for your sins. instead i just died inside. ▸ in plain sight you hid but you are what you did. ▸ i'll forget you but i'll never forgive.

the alchemy

▸ this happens once every few lifetimes. ▸ these chemicals hit me like white wine. ▸ what if i told you i'm back? ▸ the hospital was a drag. worst sleep i ever had. ▸ ditch the clowns, get the crown. ▸ what if i told you we're cool? ▸ honestly, who are we to fight the alchemy? ▸ where's the trophy?

clara bow

▸ all your life, did you know you'd be picked like a rose? ▸ i'm not trying to exaggerate but i think i might die. ▸ this town is fake but you're the real thing. ▸ take the glory, give everything. ▸ promise to be dazzling. ▸ you're the new god we're worshipping. ▸ beauty is a beast that roars down on all fours, demanding more. ▸ it's hell on earth to be heavenly. ▸ them's the breaks, they don't come gently.

[upsidedownmvnson]

the challenge | eddie munson

warnings: angst, hurt, kinda eddies pov, stupid long & tropey, barely edited

AN: i just love the angst sorry :) also this is the worst trope ever but I LOVE IT. I eat it up. also i know i overuse italics its my fatal flaw. willing to do requests & taglists btw <3

i'm not sure how many words per se but it looks really long so

"I'll give you a hundred bucks if you can get any of the cheerleaders to go on a date with you."

After band practice, the conversation had devolved into who had school the band thought was hot.

"Please," Eddie tried to scoff off the idea. "When has that idea ever gone well?"

"I'll also give you a hundred," Jeff said, adding to the fire. They probably didn't expect him to go for it. But he could use two hundred bucks...

Eddie rolled the idea around in his mind. Who would he even ask? There was Chrissy Cunningham, she's sweet... but he was pretty sure she was dating Jason, and the last thing Eddie needed was more problems from that guy. But there was you.

You were different. You were still a cheerleader at Hawkins, sitting with the populars and shaking your pom-poms at every game. But you smiled at Eddie in the hall sometimes. And he'd noticed you'll talk to anyone. You weren't mean. So he could probably charm his way into one little date, and then after the date inevitably goes terribly, he'll collect his easy money and you will go on, blissfully unaware.

It's not like you guys would get along or anything.

"What happens if I lose?" Eddie asked.

"You have to put on an embarassing show in the cafeteria," Jeff said. "And easy one."

"Okay," Eddie said after a long silence, "I'll take your money."

The next day at school, Eddie was sitting on the stairs across from your locker like a predator. It was still forty minutes until first bell, so there were very few people in the halls. He had this whole plan in mind. First, he'd wow you with his natural charm, and then leave you lingering in mystery. Easier said than done, when you came walking down the hallway with a skip in your step and a smile on your face.

It made him feel guilty about this whole thing. But you would never know, so what was the harm?

He approached you slowly, slowly panicking about the idea of bothering you. What if you told the basketball team he was bothering you? What if you acted like he grabbed you, or something...

He fears were cut off by you casually saying, "Hey Eddie."

You knew his name? Why did it sound so nice coming from you?

It's because secretly you were always aware of Eddie. There was something about him that always held your attention. After seeing him for a days, you'd become a closeted metal fan. It started to impress him, but you actually did start to like it. You'd always tried to catch his eye, but it was like he didn't really see you.

"Hey, morning," he said, mind focused on his objective. But it was harder when actually looking down at you. You were pretty cute. You had beautiful eyes.

"Good morning," you said, pleasantly confused at the situation. You noticed Eddie had gotten up when you got closer. "Were you waiting for me?"

"Oh, ha, you noticed that," he said, grabbing your locker door as you opened it, and leaned on it, unintentionally making a show of his hand gripping the edge of the locker.

You felt a flutter in your chest, "Well, what can I do for you?"

"I've seen you here early before," Eddie mused, as if he'd ever been here early, but he had his intel. "Thought I could give you a little company."

"That's sweet," you said, smiling like you were hiding a laugh. "I've never seen you around before class. Only coming in late."

"I'm shocked at such an accusation," he said, leaning closer. "It hurts to believe you think so lowly of me." There was a level of teasing in his tone that made butterflies erupt within you.

"You know," you started, "I was supposed to go see Halloween 3 tonight but my girlfriends chickened out..."

"Oh yeah?"

"Well I still want to go," you said. You couldn't hint anymore if you tried. "Are you looking for company tonight?"

"What?" Eddie couldn't mask his surprise. He was supposed to come over here and charm you into a date, but... you asked him?? "Uh yeah, I can take you to the movies."

"What time is your club done? We can go after that," you said, smiling. You were just trying to be considerate, but you were making Eddie weak in the knees. Were you really this aware of him? If anything, he was wondering why you cared more than how you knew.

"I'll see when the late shows plays and make sure we'll be there," he said, "just give me your address, I'll pick you up."

The blush on your cheeks made him smile, but the gentle touch of your hand as you grabbed his arm and pushed the sleeve up, using a marker to write down the street and and number. Eddie was totally at your mercy by this point, but you just had to make worse by bringing his arm up to your face to kiss what you'd written, looking up at him with the devil in your eye.

"Kiss from a maiden has to boost luck, right?"

Suddenly, the terms of the game changed. You asked him out. It was not what he expected. He expected it would take several days before he finally asked you out. He had this whole plan in his mind, and you just... you kissed him on the arm, like it was a normal thing for you to do to him. Now he didn't really want the money, he just wanted you to that again. Feel your soft touch. Anything that would put that look back into your eye.

Everyone at Hellfire could see that Eddie was distracted. His campaign was nothing less than infallible as per usual, but his theatrics were toned down, and he was fumbling over the dice as if he wasn't always paying total attention.

After the session, Jeff and Gareth hung around. Mainly to check on their friend.

"I have to go," Eddie said, fumbling with his bag. He didn't want to tell the guys about you. He didn't want to pop the fantasy of having you all to himself. Not yet.

Eddie still had it in his mind that the date would flop. What chance did he have to impress someone like you? This whole situation was spiralling quickly. And he fucking knew better than to take a stupid bet issued at midnight after a bunch of beers. He should've called it off right there, he should've said it's stupid and objectifying the cheerleaders and that was mean, but he said nothing. He just packed his things, and told his friends he'd see them later.

He didn't have time to go change, he didn't want you to miss your movie because of him. And he was just really anxious to see you again. There was a small part of his brain, a little nagging brain cell, telling him that maybe... just maybe, this date will go well and he can get you to look at him with a sparkle in your eyes.

Your house was right in the middle of suburbia, which had Eddie losing his cool slowly. You were different, and he knew that already, but it was a comfort to remind himself as he drove passed identical, picket fenced houses. Your house was no different. Picket fence, flowers in the window sill, green grass mowed to the same height.

He parked the van and got out, walking through the gate and up the short cobblestone path leading up to your front door. He brought a knuckle up to your door, tapping lightly twice. Maybe you would bail and he wouldn't have to be the bad guy anymore. He looked at the flowers beside the house, and mentally kicked himself for not bringing you anything for you. You deserved flowers.

But you were there, waiting to answer the door a few moments after he knocked. You had counted to ten in your head before he answered, not wanting to seem too keen.

"Hey," you said, dazzling him again with an innocent smile. His voice was stuck in his throat as he looked at you. Eddie hadn't expected your cheerleading outfit or anything... but what didn't expect was a cropped Slayer shirt. It looked like you had cut it yourself, but he couldn't let himself get caught staring at the frayed edges, because that's where the exposed skin was, tempting him to look. Or worse, tempting him to reach out, running his calloused fingers over the skin that looked painfully soft.

"Hey," he say quietly, still trying to wrap his head around what was happening. How had he managed to fuck this up before talking to you for the first time? "Sorry I didn't get flowers or change or do anything all at to impress you. I kinda rushed right from school."

"You want to impress me?"

Eddie's mind was reeling. "Is there anyone out there who doesn't?"

You giggled, and Eddie didn't think he could take it anymore. If he just spilled his guts right now, he could stop himself a world of confusion. After this, he'd probably be stuck with the image of you for weeks. He's probably caused him heartache and pain when this doesn't work out. Or... worse... it does work out and one of his idiot friends tells you how this started, and then he was still heartbroken and fucked.

Eddie said nothing as he led you to the van.

On the way to the movies it was quiet, but not uncomfortable. You asked him about his day, which made him blush because, it's a simple that people never really asked him. Especially beautiful cheerleaders.

He didn't know how he was supposed to forget this. How could he continue to drive Jeff and Gareth around while he's seen you in his passenger seat... with a Slayer shirt on.

"Can I pick something?" you asked, finding a small stash of cassettes under the seat.

"Sure," he said. He's pretty sure he would've let you do whatever you wanted, as long as you stayed beside him in this van forever.

You slipped the current tape out, and slipped in Metallica. Fight Fire with fire came on and you sat back in your seat.

"Why this one?" he asked. He wanted to know. He wanted you to give some cheesy answer so he could figure out an excuse to not like you, to fight all the reasons he was starting to like you anyway. It was just a shirt, maybe you didn't listen to them at all.

"For Whom the Bell Tolls is my favourite right now," you said casually.

"What about Slayer? What's your favourite?"

"You quizzin' me?" you quipped, laughing as Eddie widened his eyes. You cut him off before he could apologize. "Die by the Sword." You drummed your fingers absentmindedly against your jeans. "Always had this fantasy about riding into battle, yaknow, Lord of the Rings style."

"Who are you?" Eddie asked, fingers gripping the steering wheel tighter. "You like Lord of the Rings and Slayer." He said it as a fact, not a question. With every casual answer you gave, a knife was turning in his stomach, reminding him that he was the bad guy. He took a stupid bet, from his stupid friends, and it was keeping him from enjoying this moment fully. There was a little voice reminding him that what he's doing, is shit people like Jason Carver would do.

"Yes, and?"

And nothing. You were just casting a spell on Eddie that he would need a miracle to undo. "So you're a hidden freak."

"Being hidden is lame," you said, "I wouldn't lie if they asked."

"Who is they?" he asked.

"The other cheerleaders, the jocks, anyone at school really."

"You don't get along with the other cheerleaders?"

"No, I do. They're my girls. <3" You smiled, biting the skin beside your thumb. "I just don't talk about fantasy epics with them, they're not really interested."

"I don't know," he teased, pulling into the movie theatre parking lot. "You don't really seem like any cheerleaders I know."

"And how many cheerleaders do you know?"

He laughed, parking the car. He was starting to ease into it a little more. Enjoying your presence while he can. "Fair enough."

"Shaking those pom-poms is going to get me a scholarship, and a scholarship will get me out of here." The words were less airy and playful than the rest had been. He'd taken note of your serious tone when talking about getting out of here. There was hardly a line, most of the movies started a couple minutes earlier, there were just a few Halloween stragglers.

"In a rush out of here?" he asked. He wanted to know everything about you.

"You could say that," you said. "I don't have a problem with Hawkins but my parents are... I just..." you trailed off. "Let's not ruin a good time."

He nodded, not needing to hear anything else. After light squabbling about who would pay for the tickets, Eddie passed his money over to the ticket guy, who had an obvious line of sight to your stomach. Or maybe it was your chest he was staring at, either away, Eddie was finding it really annoying. He used his arm to gently guide you behind him, blocking most of the box office employees view.

He felt protective over you. Which is ironic, because at the start of the day he had a plan to woo you, to take you on a date for a bet. And now, he wanted to protect you from hurt.

The worst kind of hypocrite.

The conversation died when the two of you shuffled into the little theatre. The movie had been out long enough that it wasn't too busy. It was nice, being in the dark together, silently watching the movie. You weren't really scared, but you still liked it. Eddie however, wasn't loving it as much as you.

Eddie was having such a nice time, that he was able to push the bet out of his mind completely.

After the movie, pretty much everything was closed, except the 24 hour diner a little bit down the highway, so that's where he took you. He drove about twenty minutes just to eat greasy cheeseburgers and sickeningly sweet milkshakes because he just couldn't bare for this night to be over yet.

"Guess I gotta get you home," Eddie said after the food. "It's already passed midnight."

"Oh that's okay," you said, leaving money on the table for food. "They'll be gone until next week anyway. I don't they'd care when I got home."

Eddie wanted to ask, but he could tell your parents weren't something you liked to talk about.

"Well, if we've both nowhere to be, maybe we should stick together."

"Why don't you take me home anyway and we can watch another movie."

"I'd like that."

The ride back to your place seemed shorter, or maybe he was just excited to see where you live. He wanted to see your room. He was so curious about you. He just wanted to know everything.

Your house was quiet, pitch black and lonely... like it always was. You let him in, and he awkwardly shuffled in behind you. He copied what you did by taking your shoes off by the door. Your house opened into the living room, with stairs right beside.

"Can I see your room?" he asked, half expecting you to say no but you answered with a quick "sure!" and led him up the stairs. He watched your ass the whole time you walked ahead of him.

"It's kinda boring," you said, opening the door. There wasn't really much to it. A few posters on the wall; a couple were bands he liked and there were a few movie posters too. Your cassettes were all stacked on your desk neatly, and there were vinyls beside that, a small table there to hold the record player. He was talking and poking through them, while you sat on the bed, watching him intently. He was shocked to see you actually had some of the same things he did. And you... you had bands he didn't know. One day, he was totally going to borrow those.

He kept chatting as he poked around. This morning, neither one of you could have predicted being here like this. He stopped talking mid sentence, and you could see him looking more at the desk than the music now. You curiously tried to peak at what he was looking at.

"Is this a dnd character sheet?" he asked.

"Oh!" you laughed, standing and joining him by the desk. "Yeah, it is. I'd been trying to work up the nerve to ask you to teach me, but, I guess I didn't have to."

And just like that, you had him.

You had him totally and fully and he wished he'd never taken that stupid challenge with his stupid friends about the stupid money. His mind was emotional soup.

"You were gunna ask me to teach you dungeons and dragons?" he asked, totally stunned into silence, again.

"Well..." you blushed, turning away from him. He saw it though. "I kind of have a crush on you, Eddie. Maybe before tonight it wasn't like... real, because I didn't actually know you but..." You smiled, so soft and sweet, it made Eddie feel warm and vulnerable. "Now I know it is real."

What was he supposed to do? Look at you while you're vulnerable like that and just tell you what he's done? No shot. No fucking way would he let any of his dumb choices get in the way of, whatever this was going to be.

"I like you, too," he said finally, smiling back at you. The problem was, while it was true, it didn't feel as genuine. He did like you, but that's not how it started.

And what was he supposed to do when you looked like you wanted a kiss? Not kiss you? That would be rude.

Eddie leaned in slowly, and so did you. He brought his hand up, coddling your face and brushing a thumb over your cheek. He said, "you're so beautiful," before closing the gap and putting his mouth on yours. It was small, mouths parted and puckered, moving slowly. It was a short kiss, but a tender first one.

Until you said, "sorry if I'm not a good kisser, I haven't done much kissing," with a blush.

"You haven't done much kissing?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I'm so... inexperienced."

"No, it's okay! I don't really get to kiss anyone either."

"You can kiss me whenever you want," you said, bounce in your step as you grabbed his hand and led him back downstairs.

You let him pick a movie while you set up the couch with some blankets. He settled beside you one the couch once the movie started, and you snuggled into his side as if you owned it. Which may as well be true already, and passed out within five minutes of the movie starting. He told himself sternly that he would leave when the movie was over, and he did mean it. But he also rested his head on yours and tried to fall asleep before he saw any credits.

Which he did.

Monday morning rolling around was another one of Eddie's punishments. The bliss of his imaginary life came hurdling towards the end, and it was filling him with anxiety. Like, so fucking much anxiety.

At school, he'd be unable to avoid his friends. Eddie had spent much of Saturday morning lounging at your house with you. You two made breakfast, listened to some music, and then watched a movie. He had to leave eventually, since he didn't want to kiss you with morning breath. But he'd called you that night... and the one after that. He just couldn't get enough of you.

Eddie had avoided his best friends most of the morning, mostly by just being late. Unfortunately, that also had meant he'd avoided you. He'd hoped you'd come into the cafeteria first. He was biting his nails, his leg rapidly shaking up and down. You had said he can kiss you anytime... did that mean school, too? He hoped so. He hoped you would come into the freaking cafeteria.

But his fantasy bubble had officially popped when Jeff grabbed him by the shoulders from behind, scaring him.

"Bud, you've been holding out on us."

"What are you talking about?" Eddie asked. Gareth and Jeff sat at the table with him.

"Same thing that everyone is talking about, you and y/n."

"What?" Eddie had been so focused on not talking to anyone that he hadn't heard anything.

"Someone's sister saw you leaving her house on Saturday, and I distinctly remember you rushing out of Hellfire on Friday."

"What are people saying?"

"Some are saying drugs, some are saying you guys have sex. Did you? Did you have sex with her?"

"No," Eddie said, effectively wiping the smile off Gareth's face. "But I may have slept there."

His friends looked at each other, and then at him, and Eddie took one selfish moment to be excited about it. It was his fatal mistake.

"Are you guys gunna go out again?" Jeff asked. Eddie grinned, and nodded.

"Well, a deal is a deal. Here goes all my savings on some dumb bet," Gareth said.

They should've had a sign, some bat signal that Eddie could show above the entire student body that would get his best friends to shut the fuck up because you were behind them, walking closer and smiling at Eddie with that same sweet smile on your face.

You must have slipped in when he was talking to the guys. He tried to shush Gareth without being obvious, but Gareth was being so fucking loud. If he didn't shut up soon you were going to hear him. Eddie's heart was racing. Jeff kicked Gareth, but apparently not hard enough because he just kept talking.

Eddie's heart was going to beat out of his chest... like in Alien...

"I can't believe you got y/n on a date in like, one day." Gareth scoffed. "Maybe you let her in on it for some of the money. Last time I make a bet with you losers."

And it was like watching a star die. Your beautiful smile gone, replaced with a quivering lip and a look in your eye that reflected agony, instead of the little bit of trouble he loved so much. Eddie was going to throw up. For a second you two just looked at each other, Eddie had his hands an inch off the table, he was shaking.

He fucking knew this scenario never worked out for anyone.

And then you were running out of there, and he was hot on your heels. It must have looked bad, you running out crying while Eddie chased you. After rumors of drugs deals and scandalous sex, the fire was most definitely stoked.

Eddie shouted after you, following you all the way outside. Out there, where no one was really lingering, you turned around. There were a few tears rolling down your cheeks, and you chewed on the skin of your lip.

"Please tell me that it doesn't mean what it sounds like," you begged, stepping closer. The hurt tone of your voice sent a dagger into his chest with every word. He did this. "If you can just-" you hiccuped, "tell me that. Then we can go to the diner and we can go, we can go wherever you want. Anywhere. Just tell me that it wasn't what it sounded like."

Eddie didn't say anything. He couldn't.

He didn't have anything good enough to say.

You just watched him with tears in your eyes. It seemed like you were begging him with your eyes. He wished he had anything to tell you. It wasn't what it seemed like, or maybe it was for a good cause. But he didn't have anything.

"But," you cried, "but you said you liked me."

"I do like you," he said quickly, his voice surprisely hoarse. Being able to say something true made him spring into action. "I like you so much. I'm so sorry, I'm really so so fucking sorry, but please. Just let me make it up to you. Obviously I don't want the money, I was going to tell them it's off but I just... I didn't, I don't know why. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"What was the bet?"

"What?"

"What were the terms and conditions of the bet?"

"Is that... really productive..." he trailed off when he looked at you. Eddie sighed, and looked to his feet for some kind of comfort. He found none. "Two hundred bucks for a date with any of the cheerleaders. If I fail I embarrass myself at purpose at school."

"You were right that wasn't productive," you said.

"I'm so sorry," he said, "I can still fix it."

"Do what you want. I'm going home."

"Let me take you."

"No, no... you've done plenty, thanks."

And against what he really wanted, he let you go. If you didn't want him around right now he wouldn't push it. Eddie would just have to fix this. He had a plan to woo you once, he could do it again. But this time it would be because he knows he can treat you right. He can be the guy you deserve. He would bring you flowers. He'd never hurt you.

...this was just a really bad example... that's all.

[stonesilhouette]

Red, White and You

Yandere America x Fem. Reader

TW: Kidnapping | Non-consensual Kissing (just for a second) | Suggestion of Public Proposal | Violence ((Y/n) gets hit with a bat as a method of kidnapping)

I told myself I was going to write something for my favorite dumbass's birthday so I threw this together. So no promises on the editing. If I ever get around to it, Canada has one of these too.

I also kinda hate the title but I'm tired so give me a break.

The place you woke up in was wholly unfamiliar. With your head still spinning, you sat up, the sounds of fireworks blasting into your skull. The room was… patriotic? And was filled to the brim with American merchandise. Not a single wall lacked an American flag. Turning your head to the left, you saw the blares of red, white and blue explosions filtering in through thin curtains, illuminating you and the room in alternating hues.

Reaching a hand up to feel the point of pain on your skull, your hand brushed against damp bandages and you froze. Flinching from a blast, you desperately rubbed at your face with a limp hand, attempting to clear your foggy head. A door click-clicked and unlocked in the moment it took you to look towards the sound. Lit up by a cold shade of blue, the blond’s smile stretched wide across his stereotypically handsome face. He seemed to be hiding something behind his back and you unconsciously scooted away.

The man didn't seem to notice and instead continued his paced approach. A brilliant red, another bitter blue and then a bright white revealed the man to you.

“Alfred?” you barely whispered out, tempted to reach to see if it was truly him.

You didn't need to as he responded, “The one and only!” With a laugh and then plopped down onto the bed.

“What… I…” You winced, turning away for a moment.

Alfred quickly grabbed a hand to your chin, pulling you back towards him. “Look at me, doll,” he said with an underlying meaning. One you didn't understand.

“I just. What's going on? My head hurts like someone took a bat to it–”

The blond had a strange look on his face.

You continued, “And I– Weren't we at your birthday party?”

Alfred refused to answer, the glare from his glasses hiding his azure eyes. The scarlet blaze from outside flickered out and for a moment you could see past the lenses on his face. How cold and empty his normally electric eyes looked. You could almost find yourself falling into them like some sort of abyss. Then it hit you.

This was the worst possible day to do this, you knew this fact well. You knew just how much of an asshole this might make you but…

You looked out at the crowd, all gathered to celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday. They all seemed so happy. With each one owning a pair of seeing, judging eyes. Just the thought of all of that attention made your chest twist and your throat go dry. Swallowing down the bile, you couldn’t help but to think that if he was to… You had to do this now. Or you would never be able to.

Approaching Francis, who was chatting with the rest of his trio; you tapped on his shoulder to get his attention. He turned to you and smiled, lilac eyes sparkling like his bubbling champagne.

“Oh! What can I do for you mademoiselle?” he asked, his cheeks alight with an intoxicated glow.

“You wouldn't happen to know where Alfred is, would you?” you asked and France looked away nervously.

“Well… I am not supposed to say.”

“Francis.” you pushed.

“He is in ze parlor with ze black sheep –désóle– Arthur,” he admitted and you thanked him.

Alfred’s house wasn't as big as say, Arthur’s was, and so was much easier to navigate. You knew exactly which room was the parlor that France had been referring to. Before you could fully turn the corner, you caught word of something leaving the British man’s lips that stopped you in your tracks and confirmed your worst fears.

“You'll be alright. There's no way she'd say no.” England rested a hand on his son’s shoulders. “Just remember to breathe.”

“Yeah,” Alfred affirmed, though his nerves weren't fully quelled. “I've got this.”

It was now or never.

“Hey.” They turned toward you, surprise evident on their faces.

“I'll leave you two be,” Arthur murmured and slunk out of the room.

It was awkwardly silent for a moment; you had clearly witnessed a scene you weren't supposed to see. The blond man coughed twice before actually moving to say something.

“(Y/n)–” The words died on his tongue as you spoke.

“We need to break up,” you said, trying to remain as civil and unemotional as possible. The betrayed puppy-dog look on his face made this task especially difficult.

“I– why?!” he asked, taking a step toward you. “I thought that we… that you loved me.”

“I do love you, Alfred,” you reassured him but he didn't take your words well.

“Then why are you breaking up with me!?” he demanded, face curling in a mess of anger and hurt.

“We're just not right for each other, Alfred.” You looked away. “We just don't fit.”

He didn't speak. He didn't move. And he most certainly didn't react. You stared for a moment at his petrified figure, feeling sharp stabs of guilt puncturing your body. Finally, you walked softly past him, taking a moment to place a chaste kiss upon his cheek like you had done so many times before.

You spoke as you pulled away. “This is goodbye, Alfred.”

His low voice stopped you in your tracks, having to turn back to hear him. “No.”

“What?” you asked, unsure as to what he had whispered out.

“No,” he said it louder this time and you huffed, turning away and continuing your walk.

From the time you heard the whistle of sound in the air to impact, you barely had a second to see his prized bat heading toward your head. The honey wood collided with the back of your skull as all of your muscles failed you and you collapsed to the ground, hair splayed out like a halo. Alfred hovered over you like an unforgiving god and you as the sinner. Perhaps in his eyes, you were.

The words he chid out next would haunt you for the rest of your immortal life.

“You don't get to make that decision, doll~”

“You– you–” Your accusing words did nothing but make the blond scoff.

“All about me, what about you? What do you have to say for yourself?” he asked but you just stared in shock.

Was this the same man you knew? The man you had been dating for years? The one that was just about to propose?

“Look at you, you can't even defend yourself.” He scoffed again before murmuring under his breath, “What would you do without me?”

“Because you attacked me!” you argued back, missing his other words. “I knew you'd take this bad but I didn't you'd take it this bad.”

“You broke up with me! How did you think I'd react!” he practically raved, his perfect hair in disarray.

“Not by kidnapping me!”

“Pfft.” He rolled his eyes. “I didn't kidnap you. This is just to work on our relationship.”

“What relationship!?”

He grabbed you tight by the shoulders. Even if you had tried, you couldn’t have escaped.

“Don’t say that,” he gritted out, squeezing hard.

His grip loosened as the heavy movements of his chest began to calm.

“Listen. Can we just forget, about all of this?” He gestured into space. “We can just go back down” –A firework went off– “and this night can go how it was supposed to.”

He let go of your shoulders and you pulled away. “No… No, Alfred.” A light left his eyes and you stared on, disappointed. “This night was– is supposed to end with us separate. You know this.”

He brushed through the tangles that had formed in your hair, tugging you closer again. With featherlight touches, he pulled your face to his, suddenly attaching his lips to your own. His body weight laid heavy and you toppled down onto the bed. He pushed into you with a fervoures passion, desperate to soak up every drop of your essence.

It took what felt like forever for him to finally separate and by the time he did, it seemed that the fireworks had stopped. He smiled, taking one last moment to brush strands of (h/c) hair away. Adoration coated every word that left his mouth, like the purest of sickly sweet honey.

“I love you,” he said, taking in your terrified expression as if he was studying a Renaissance painting. “And I don't know. Because baby, you're wrong.”

Something clicked around your ankle.

“Alfred. Alfred! ALFRED!!” you screamed at him but he just chuckled as he walked away.

He turned back for just a moment. “Hey babe. You're the greatest birthday gift a guy could ask for.”

[educatedsimps]

HEYA THERE POOKIE BEARS🔥🔥 the voices told me to req for my wife akaashi “What are you doing?” “Striking a sexy pose.” “Well, sit down before you pull something.”

just for shats and giggles ( >o< )/!! i miss my akaashi fics so this will guarantee to fix my crippling depression !!!!

i also might pop in again for an osa fic hehe :33

xoxo,,, saku!!!🌸🌸

≪ back to fics masterlist

akaashi keiji x f!reader

a/n: i’m stupid i thought akaashi was the one striking a sexy pose HAHAHAHA i mean it's possible ... but unlikely 😂 anyway thank you for requesting sakuuu <3 hope this one's okay :,))

cw: timeskip spoilers, STRESSED akaashi, mostly humour, petnames (love, darling, babe), reverse comfort fic?

Akaashi rubbed his eyes as he yawned, feeling a throb of pain right behind his eyes. With strained eyes, he squinted at his laptop screen, and staring back at him were the words "page 206/632". Glancing at the clock on his desk, it read 1:56am. He sighed heavily, laying his head on the table for a second.

His boss' voice echoed endlessly in his head. "Keiji-kun, I hope you won't be too busy this weekend, 'cause I need these editions of the upcoming manga thoroughly checked and edited by Monday morning. I know you've already done a ton of work this week but this is just a little extra, I'm sure you'll be able to meet your deadlines." And with a dismissive wave, his boss had left the office.

The "little extra" Akaashi's boss was referring to was a folder of documents, each one a few hundred pages long. It wasn't the worst Akaashi had ever seen, but it was still a lot.

Don't get him wrong, Akaashi loved his job and he absolutely adored the mangas that they release, alongside the Tenma Udai. But recently, he'd been hounded by so many of his executives as well as the various departments of the company that he could hardly get a breather.

He wasn't a stranger to dark circles - they'd been a constant in his life ever since his third year of high school. Except they'd become deeper and darker than the abyss these past few weeks. He was stressed and exhausted, to say the least. Which was exactly why you decided that it had to stop today.

You had been encouraging your boyfriend to be more assertive at work, especially if he knew he couldn't meet - according to you - the "ridiculous and unreasonable" deadlines set for him. You had been looking out for him even more these few weeks too, taking over more of the house chores so he'd have time to complete all his work, taking over all the meal preps so he'd be fed while he did his work. Most importantly, you had been trying to drill it into his thick skull that his brain and body need a break, and so does he.

Unfortunately, your efforts hadn't been as effective as you had hoped, so you came up with the brilliant idea to order a massive, blow up Patrick Star costume online.

Do you see where I'm going with this?

Walking into the office room the two of you had set up in your apartment, you saw him tiredly rubbing his eyes and laying his head on the table. Strutting up to him, you planted your feet in a wide stance with one hand on your hip, and the other reaching towards your leg such that your body was bent at the waist.

Your poor boyfriend looked up to see you striking said pose in the blow up Patrick Star costume, a corset around your torso, rocking 6-inch stilettos with fishnet tights down your legs. To top it all off, it wasn't even your beautiful face that greeted him, it was the bright-eyed cheery face of the damn pink starfish.

Akaashi was absolutely sure he was hallucinating. Probably going insane. Deranged, even.

"Y-y/n?" his voice cracked.

"How do I look, babe?" you asked from inside Patrick Star, voice slightly muffled.

"What... What are you doing?"

"Striking a sexy pose," you replied nonchalantly, still in position.

Dumbfounded, Akaashi's brain was short-circuiting. "Ohmyg- Well, sit down before you pull something..." he facepalmed.

"HEy! I'm not that inflexible, okay? I'm disappointed you think so low of my athleticism," you scoffed, crossing your arms - which were still in your puffy costume - and turning your nose up.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry, darling," Akaashi chuckled, amused. You hummed in acknowledgement, satisfied.

"C'mere," he said, rolling his chair over to you before pulling you down onto his lap. Unzipping your costume at the neck, you pulled it back to reveal your face, smiling gently at him. He looked even more haggard up close, and it made your heart squeeze seeing just how spent he looked.

"What's all this for, darling?" Akaashi laughed quietly, puling at the ends of your costume.

"Well," you drawled, hooking an arm over his shoulder. "Since someone hasn't been taking my advice, I decided to take matters into my own hands and resort to more... extreme measures."

Letting out a breath, he relented, "I know... I'm sorry, love. I just get really caught up with work and I don't really know how not to stress about all of it."

Placing a hand on each side of his face, you planted a kiss on his forehead and murmured, "It's okay, Keiji. It's not your fault your bosses have unreasonable expectations of you. You're just too good of an employee." You joked. "But I'm serious, you need rest. This has been going on for way too long. It's already 2am and you know you can't finish all this by tomorrow morning, so let's just go to sleep already, okay? I'll even help explain to your boss why you couldn't finish this last document. Like, I'll literally call him up right now and tell him he's crazy if he seriously expected you to burn your weekends just for his stupid-"

"No- babe, please don't. I'll handle it, I promise," Akaashi interrupted, gripping your waist as if he could physically stop you from getting agitated.

"Good," You said, content. "You can talk to me if you're feeling overwhelmed, you know that, right?" When he nodded, you placed a small kiss on his nose.

"Now, I don't wanna see any more overworked, underpaid, stressed and exhausted Keiji. I wanna see my well-rested, de-stressed, happy Keiji. Okay?" You continued, pouting.

"Yes, ma'am," your boyfriend replied before standing from his chair with you in his arms. "Now, let's get you changed into your comfy pyjamas and we'll both get some rest, yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled as his lips pressed against yours.

a/n: the term wife akaashi is gonna be stuck in my head for the rest of this week HAHAH

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarise any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[engie-ivy]

@wolfstarmicrofic 30th: Breakup

380 words

There's now an extended edition (with happy ending?) here!

“Because she's my best friend!”

“That's all the more reason to tell her!” Lily argues, as she stands in front of the couch Marlene is curled up on. “You know what a good fit you are, you know how well you get on, you know Dorcas is not the kind of person to ever mock you for it, even if she doesn't feel the same,” Lily starts listing off as she paces up and down. “And if she does feel the same, you'll have this great foundation of friendship to build a relationship upon, and you'll have-”

“So much to lose!” Marlene interjects. “Lily,” she sighs, letting herself fall on her back on the couch. “Dorcas is my best friend, one of the most important people in my life. If she doesn't feel the same… Hell, even if she does feel the same, but we somehow muck it up, there's no coming back from that. We'll be forever changed, never the way we were.” Marlene shakes her head. “I don't think I'm willing to risk that.”

“Marls, do you know how many assumptions you are making?” Lily asks. “That it's bound to go up in smoke, for starters. But even if that happens, that doesn't have to permanently damage your friendship.”

Marlene gives her a skeptical look. “How on earth could that not affect a friendship?”

“Remus!” Lily suddenly exclaims, and Remus gives a start, almost dropping the piece of chocolate he was about to eat from the pile they had brought to cheer up Marlene (and if she's not eating it, someone's gotta).

“What?” he asks.

“You and Sirius were best friends,” Lily states. “Then you got together, dated for a while, broke up, and now you're still close friends.”

Remus nods.

“So it's possible!” Lily exclaims. “It's possible to go through a breakup and still be best friends after! Tell Marlene it's possible! Tell her that even the worst-case-scenario doesn't have to be so bad!”

Remus turns to Marlene. “It's not so bad,” he says dutifully.

Lily smiles triumphantly, but Remus continues. “At least, if you don't mind being constantly reminded of the worst mistake you ever made and seeing every single day how you let the best thing that ever happened to you get away, that is.”

[fuck-customers]

this is not a fuck customers thing but I have complain... so I work at an optics store and we occasionally have to do some online training courses and the issue is that when ever there's one for what ever new ray b*** product, the "training course" is nothing but an overlong ad. rb makes their "training courses" barely informative at all, full of boastful business talk when it's not JUST boastful ad talk. "watch this video to learn more about [feature]" and the video is just a literal advertisement with no technical info. Worst of all, the text is just very poorly written? like if you know anything about text editing or informative texts, you'll immediately see how bad these texts are.

Posted by admin Rodney

[unboundprompts]

Motionless In White Prompts

-> requested by @whitelightremains

-> writing prompts from Motionless In White songs. feel free to edit as you see fit.

"I found myself by losing hope. I lost my way to find a home." - Disguise

"I hate that I made you the enemy." - Another Life

"Sometimes I fear the worst in me is the best you'll ever know." - Headache

"We don't have to feel alone." - </c0de>

"I can feel it in my veins, laced with gold but rich with pain." - Legacy

"I've got blood on my hands, no guilt on my conscience." - Brand New Numb

"Love is lost like words." - Creatures

"You will not put out the fire that burns in me." - Disguise

"I don't give a single fuck about your thoughts and prayers." - Thoughts & Prayers

"All the rain is full of ghosts tonight." - London In Terror

"Am I man or machine?" - Holding on to Smoke

"I swear that I'm gonna be fine." - Headache

"Don't pray for me when you're the one to blame." - Thoughts & Prayers

"I will fear not my death or destiny, because death fears me." - Legacy

"All those summer nights still burn inside my lungs." - Cobwebs

"The absence that haunts you won't hurt much longer." - Catharsis

"I feel a sickness for a home I've never been." - Holding on to Smoke

"We're broken and bleeding in the name of love and I hope that we meet in another life." - Another Life

"I wanna break free from my humanity." - Brand New Numb

"What could be more beautiful than death?" - London In Terror

"Wish upon the stars, but they won't save you tonight." - Abigail

"Everyday I must practice to fake this smile on my face." - Creatures

"The past is the past, and I'm letting it kill me." - Cobwebs