#this has been in thr works since july i have been. so weird lately

[normal-person-i-promise]

that onigiri you like

reigen arataka/reader

Arataka scours the onigiri aisle, running everything under his careful, though sluggish eyes, looking and searching and scouting, and... Right there!

He reaches for one for himself and one for you, and his hand moves so fast that he finds himself having brushed it against someone else getting that same flavour. He huffs in annoyance, looking up to apologise, and—

Oh. It's you.

★ ★ ★

Arataka waves off the last clients with a wide smile that doesn't reach his eyes, thanking them for the hefty tip as the door closes.

Lonely. It's very lonely.

His smile disappears the moment they can't see him as he roughly counts the money, flapping the bills in his hand, and halves it; he pockets the bills in his left, and the bills in the right, he puts into the saving box he has hidden.

You had an off day, and Mob had needed to go home. Arataka had taken a later job — just a simple massage — and it's late enough to see the warm orange streetlights spilling through the blinds as he flicks the lights off, the dim stars in the sky twinkling as they dance across their inky black stage.

As Arataka locks the office door, he argues with himself. He should really go and eat dinner.

...He doesn't feel like it, though...

The night air is chilling as he walks down the silent grey pavement that almost seems to swim under his feet. Arataka's walk is accompanied by nobody other than his shadow, and his footsteps form a steady drumbeat on the sidewalk that helps keep the silence at bay.

Not that it's quiet. He can hear the rumbling of cars as they rush home from work, hear the excitable crowds in those overpriced coffeeshops and cafés. There's the lingering scent of the cars' exhausts, the warm smell of hot foods and cold beverages leaking out from the shops.

He's thinking about you. You mentioned you always go to this convenience store, right? Maybe he'll go there.

"Oh, Reigen, the onigiri there are to die for," you'd said excitedly on a particularly slow day in the office. Your eyes had sparkled in the afternoon sun, your hair shining in the golden rays.

God, you're pretty.

"You should pop by one day! The staff are friendly, and, if I'm lucky, I can get you a discount," you'd said with a wink. "I'm friends with one of the cashiers."

Arataka rolls his eyes at the thought. Silly you, with your endearing voice and adorable excitement, your cute little smile and your addicting laugh...

He clears his throat. No need for those kinds of thoughts, yes? Especially not for an employee?

This is highly inappropriate behaviour, he's aware. So scandalous — a boss falling for an employee, giving this special little worker extra perks, like attention, jokes, extra leeway...

He can't resist.

He thinks about you as he walks. He thinks about how you'd go on and on about that onigiri, and how often you'd ask him to go to dinner with him. He knew it was usually just because he'd pay, but... It never really felt that way. It felt like you were less coworkers and more friends, maybe even more than that.

He likes those dinners with you even more when Mob wasn't around. He likes it when all of your attention is on him, all your laughter caused by his fumbling hands or quick-witted jokes, all your jokes made for him, and only him. It feels so... So personal, so intimate, like a...

...

No.

As he walks, he stares up at the night sky. The stars, tiptoeing and twirling against the black, are barely visible from all the light pollution. The moon is a crescent, hanging beside the dim stars and casting a glow on the grey clouds besides it.

He hums.

The streetlights cast an artificial golden glow onto the cold concrete of the sidewalk, and Arataka's shadow is spindly as he walks slowly, slowly, taking in the view with fatigued eyes.

Half-lidded are his eyes, and slow is his gait — though behind his scattered gaze, his mind is running rampant with thoughts of you. He physically cannot conjure a thought that isn't related to you in some way, shape, or form, and he shakes his head as though it'll rid his brain of you.

The lights remind him of how warm, both physically and metaphorically, you are, with a smile as bright as the sun, the shining moon holding slivers of your twinkling eyes. The wind that combs through his hair reminds him of your hands, as gentle as a summer breeze, the soft music he hears from the cafes and restaurants reminding him of your voice, as silvery and sweet as song. He hears shreds of your laugh in the excited chatter of the late-night partiers, and he almost falls flat on his face as he thinks of the noise.

He shakes his head to rid himself of the thoughts, though to no avail.

He stops in front of a brightly lit store, and it looks just as you'd described. MOB MART is written in bright LED lights on the front, yelling the store's name in the loudest font that was available.

He straightens his tie and smooths down his suit, trying to look at least a little bit presentable — you said you knew one of the cashiers, after all.

Pushing open the door, a gentle ding-dong marks his arrival as Arataka scans the shelves with a tired gaze, looking for the legendary onigiri you'd been singing your praises for. His shoes go click, click, click on the smooth floors, the shuffling of his hands in his pockets annoyingly loud.

They have the usual: coffee and other cold beverages in bottles and metal cans, chips and junk foods in noisy plastic packaging, bentos and instant ramen in shiny clear plastic boxes, etc etc etc. Nothing much to note down.

He looks carefully, looking, looking, looking, and... There! He spots them — a handful of flavours of these onigiri about the size of the palm of his hand, their seaweed crispy and their fillings typical.

You'd mentioned your favourite flavour, right? Like... Tuna mayo? Hah, as if he could forget anything you'd say.

Arataka scours the onigiri aisle, running everything under his careful, though sluggish eyes, looking and searching and scouting, and... Right there!

He reaches for one for himself and one for you, and his hand moves so fast that he finds himself having brushed it against someone else getting that same flavour. He huffs in annoyance, looking up to apologise, and—

Oh. It's you.

He yanks his hand away in a manner that probably looks way, way too suspicious to you — and combined with his flushed cheeks and the perspiration beginning to bead on his forehead, this is not a good look to have in front of you.

He clears his throat, clearing his cheeks in tandem.

"Reigen!" You say, a little surprised and a little excited. "Finally checking out the onigiri, huh?"

He swallows thickly, smiling nervously and nodding. He'd better get himself together before you start suspecting things — from your boss, no less.

He reaches for the onigiri just as you do, and that small, tiny brush of your skin against his sends a jolt of electricity running through his body. His cheeks redden, his eyes going wide.

Arataka does (though as fast as he can) manage to get the onigiri he wanted — salted salmon. Different than the one he wanted just now.

"So... So, uh, what are you doing out so... Late?" He asks, casting his gaze briefly to the glass doors, looking at the dark night sky. The two of you walk around the store for a little bit more, just looking at things with no intention to buy.

"Oh. Ah... Just a late dinner, I suppose. I was too caught up in that series," you reply, a grin in your voice. You bring your eyes back to the onigiri in your hands, the packaging wrinkling.

"...Though it's more like supper now."

He nods, then it's quiet again.

It's... Nice, being around you in such a comfortable silence, broken only by the soft music playing on the speakers and the click-click-click of your shoes on the polished floor.

When you both put down your things to pay, Arataka brings out enough money to buy both.

He grins, clapping a hand on your shoulder — and that makes you feel a jolt of that same electricity go through your body, a redness rising to your cheeks.

"I'll pay, no worries," he says coolly, his tone calm and collective.

Oh. Okay. That's nice.

He opens the door for you.

As the two of you walk out of the convenience store, you stand in the dark parking lot — it's not so quiet now that Arataka can hear your breathing, and it's not so lonely now that he has you for company.

You unwrap your onigiri, making the plastic crinkle and the tearing the tape as you pull the clear packaging off, settling the crispy seaweed and plump, white rice more securely in your hands.

Arataka poses an idea — a risky one, he'd wager, though not the kind of thing you'd say no to. It's reasonable, too; it's something that friends do for each other. You two are friends, right?

He takes a deep breath, steeling himself.

"You want me to walk you to the station?" He offers, his tone polite and cautionary as he, too, unwraps his onigiri, the noisy plastic wrapper crumpling loudly as he balls it in his hand.

You take a bite of yours, thinking.

"...That'd be nice, yeah," you reply in between greedy mouthfuls of rice and tuna, smiling as you chew.

He smiles — and god, is that cute — and begins to follow you wordlessly, as though it's a normal occurrence to him. He really, really wishes it was.

As the two of you walk, there's the sound of the two steady drumbeats of your footsteps, the shadows of two figures merging to move as one. It's not nearly so quiet now, especially since Arataka is shoving the onigiri down his throat like a starving man, chewing noisily and swallowing bite after huge bite.

You half-laugh as he messes up his face with soft grains of rice and shreds of seaweed.

"Wait, wait, Reigen, lemme get that for you."

He pauses, turning to face you and almost jumping when you reach for his face, his knees going all weak and wobbly (like a lovelorn fool, he thinks scornfully) when you cradle his face so, so gently, with that touch of yours he just can't get enough of. You wipe off the rice bits he'd gotten all over his face, caring for him enough to make his hands shake and his heart race.

His cheeks are definitely red now, assuming they weren't already. His eyes dart about here and there, avoiding your gaze.

Cute.

He takes his head out of your hands, shaking it as though trying to get rid of those... Wretched thoughts he has for you. You watch in amusement.

He mumbles a quick and embarrassed thanks as he resumes his walk.

The walk continues on without much fuss. It's a cold spring night, the sakura in full bloom — though they're more of a subdued, muted pink now that they're bathed in the warm streetlights and kept dark under the shadowy cloak of the night. They're still pretty.

It's really chilly, though. You find goosebumps running uncomfortably on your skin as the two of you walk, and you bring your arms up to hug yourself unconsciously.

Arataka notices this.

"Need this?" He asks teasingly, unbuttoning his — HIS — suit jacket and laying it over your shoulders before he lets you reply.

Oooh, it smells just like him... There's salt in some of the pockets, a strong scent of incense, and the pleasant, sharp smell of that expensive cologne he'd always mention he wore.

Your cheeks flush.

"Thanks, Reigen," you say sheepishly, smiling at him politely with pink cheeks, and— oh god, oh man, does that make those butterflies flutter and his thoughts race—

He clears his throat, nodding in reply.

At this point, you're still eating your onigiri. Arataka had practically inhaled his (much to your amusement), and is now walking in silence beside you.

Slowly, slowly, gradually... He edges closer to you, close enough for him to smell the floral shampoo you use, close enough for him to smell the sweet laundry detergent on your clothes.

His hands shake, his thoughts running at a mile a minute and the butterflies in his stomach ravaging the lining. You're so... Close. You're so close, and you're so warm, and... God, okay, keep it together.

His arm brushes against yours as you walk. It's such a small, tiny thing, barely even felt, but it sends such a sharp jolt through his body that he has to hold it within himself from pulling you close and... Giving you that same, fluttery feeling in the pit of his stomach.

He really, really likes touching you.

"So," you begin awkwardly, like you're trying to fill in the silence as you adjust Arataka's warm jacket on your shoulders. "Did you like the onigiri?"

You'd just finished yours, crushing it absentmindedly in your hand as you gesture to his. It's in a small, crinkly ball in his tight fist.

"Ah, um, what?"

He brings his gaze to where you're pointing.

"Oh. Oh. My onigiri, ah..."

He hums, bringing a hand to cradle his chin in thought.

"...Good. It was good."

He smiles at you, and you smile back.

"Would you eat it again?" You ask.

"...Definitely."

You take a moment to think of a reply, and decide to go in an interview-like fashion. You're going to interrogate him.

"And why did you like it, exactly?"

"Hmm..." He hums, stroking his chin in thought.

"The rice was fluffy and not dry. The portion and distribution of the filling was also really generous, and," he taps your nose with a finger, "it just automatically tastes good because you like it."

You let out a little half-laugh, and Arataka allows himself a triumphant grin.

"Is it one of your favourite foods, now, or is it just onigiri for you? Did it change your life, in other words?"

He scoffs, shoving you with his empty hand playfully. You're really cute when you try to make him laugh.

"Oh, come on. You think some rice and salmon is going to change my favourite foods list just like that?" He rolls his eyes, crossing his arms.

"I'm a man of class and taste. I'm better than having such a flimsy opinion."

You sigh. "Are you sure it wasn't that good? It was that good for me."

He lets out a little laugh. "I'm sure."

"And that was your honest opinion, right?" You ask, "no sugar-coating, no lying? You con-man?"

Arataka huffs in annoyance, kicking you with his foot. "I am not a con-man, I'll have you know — I am a respectable psychic! One of the best in the field, as a matter of fact! I am not—"

He catches you mockingly miming a talking mouth with your hand, and he reaches and grips your fist shut with his. An impulsive move, though it's enough to send a heat rising to your cheeks.

"And those are pretty bold words for someone who is being employed by this so-called 'con-man'."

"And about your question!" He changes the topic quickly. "I am not—" he tightens his grip on your hand and shakes it —"a liar! Though, I must admit..."

A grin spreads across his face. "Maybe I should've been a little meaner."

You shove him as an attack, and he laughs, letting go of that soft, soft hand. You're so cute...

"No! No, Reigen, why? Did you really not like it that much?"

Arataka chuckles, dusting off the place you'd placed your warm hand on his shoulder when you'd shoved him.

Before he can reply, you cut him off.

"Not like I was forcing you, anyway. You could've just spat it out if you didn't like it."

And he sighs. "That would be mean to you, wouldn't it?"

He shifts so he's walking just a little closer to you. Butterflies ravage your stomach. "And I liked it, anyway. One of the best onigiri I've had in a while."

You grin pridefully. "I have the best taste in things." Arataka nods.

It's not a long time before the two of you arrive at the station you'd been walking to. He follows you, almost diligently so — his shiny black shoes play a steady tap, tap, tapping beat echoing through the stairway, blending nicely with the sounds of his grey suit rustling and the general noise of the station.

You can hear distant trains in the background, impatient patrons waiting on benches and in convenience stores, the sounds of the city night life — lives infinitely more complex than yours in every shoulder you brush against and every face you pass.

Quiet. It's really quiet, though not in the way your ears would ring — it's quiet in the way that it's comfortable; there's a lovely background noise, though it's not so overwhelming you'd feel like crying, but it's not so quiet that it risks you hearing Arataka's racing heart or shallow breathing. It doesn't feel awkward, either, and it doesn't feel like either of you should be talking. It just feels... Nice. Like how things are supposed to be.

You take a seat at the bench, and Arataka follows. He sits... Far, but close at the same time. The urge to pull you into his arms is almost strong enough to make his chest ache.

He's... Not subtle in the way he stares at you. At all.

...

A minute or so passes before your train arrives, grinding slowly to a stop on the tracks. You get up.

"I'll be leaving, yeah? See you tomorrow at work."

You get up, almost reluctantly, pushing yourself off the seat and bringing yourself away from your crush's employer's company. It's a difficult battle, all in all, and your pace is much too slow and your strides are much too short when you begin walking towards the train's doors, sliding smoothly open and letting the cold air-conditioning flood the train station.

There's a second set of footsteps behind you.

Arataka. He's following you. He follows you into the train, and before you can ask him why, you need to hold on tight to the freezing metal handlebars and move aside for other patrons until you can find a seat.

"Ah."

He stares at you awkwardly. The two of you are close — very close — it's enough to smell that sharp cologne he always wears, and it's enough to make his heart rate skyrocket through the roof.

His body heats. His cheeks flush a pretty shade of red that's hard not to stare at, and his stomach tightens.

"You're going on the same train?" You ask, struggling to keep the excitement from being so near him out of your voice. He swallows, deciding every and any reply would be bad, and just nods in response.

"Are you switching trains?"

He pauses. Does he need to switch trains? He can barely think when he's so near you.

He nods again. "L— later on. At the..." He points to a station on the display whilst mentally cursing himself for stuttering. "...Thyme Station."

More people are rushing into the train, and the two of you are forced to stand almost near enough to touch.

It's driving him insane.

It's silent between the two of you again. The doors slide shut, and there's no warning when it suddenly jerks to a start. Everyone gets shaken — even if it's just a little bit — and others adjust their feet to be more stable, or shift so that they're seated comfortably in their seats.

You almost fall on Arataka. He grabs— he grabs your arms and steadies you. He. He's grabbing your arms?

The train slowly picks up speed, the scenery outside the window turning to a multicoloured blur, the trees and the buildings and the cars and the people all blending together to form nothing more than smears of paint. It's much more stable now, and it only shakes a little bit; you could let go of the handlebars. It's enough to stand still with little instability.

Arataka still grips tightly to your arms. His hands are shaky and his palms are sweaty, fingers digging into you a little bit.

"...Reigen?"

He jumps at his name being called by you, and he immediately lets go, mumbling apologies as he does.

"Sorry, sorry, s— sorry, uh—"

He clears his throat in vain as his cheeks gain a pretty reddish hue. Yours do, too.

It's cold and quiet. You find yourself adjusting Arataka's coat lying heavily and warmly on your shoulders, making sure it's settled nicely on you and it's covering the coldest spots and he stares at you for a while, a little awestruck by how cute you look, before smiling and nodding. He hopes it looks normal.

...The train ride goes a lot faster than you want it to. You're in that comfortable silence with him again, blankly staring out the window as you focus on keeping your breathing steady. Everyone's sitting down or standing quietly, taking up as little space as possible.

When the train stops, you almost fall over again — and Arataka holds your upper arms again. You're almost entirely certain it's an excuse to touch you.

He smiles at you, nodding as the doors slide open. Your station.

You push your way through the crowd, and wave goodbye as the doors shut.

It takes Arataka a moment to register that he just touched you, twice, before his face goes beet-red and his chest tightens.

Oh... He really, really loves you.

...

HIS JACKET—

[valentinahart]

Didn’t know he would be a TV actor or “in the public eye”? hmmm...

He auditioned for the Glee pilot [for”Finn”] while still in college. Auditions were held late summer 2008 (as Chris has said, after a callback he was cast as “Kurt” on September 11, 2008)

May 02, 2009 he graduated from U Mich and moved to LA: 

***EASTWICK***

1) Was cast on Eastwick (July 2009)

“So I was going on these auditions, and I had my long hair back then. That’s the real me. With my shaggy Jewfro hair. (Points to hair) This is the fake me. Anyways, I was just going out for stuff and my agent sent me out on auditions. And, you know, the amount of “nos” you get–and I think people forget this, or they only realize it once they’ve been exposed to it–but a lot of us have had far more “nos” than “yeses.” I would audition all the time, and I would always get the “nos.” Like always. That’s just a part of the game. And you learn to not take it personally. It’s just business, and you can’t be hung up on it. You’re lucky enough just to have auditions. So I auditioned for a lot of random movies, TV shows, I do a lot of voice-over work, just making a fool out of myself. Honestly, I can’t get a “regular” job. I’m bad at being an adult in the real world. It’s weird and expensive and strange. And so I was auditioning for a lot. I went out for this show, I got a callback, and I booked my first TV role! And it was like the most–you know, anytime you get cast in something, it’s super exciting–but nothing will beat the first time they tell you, “Hey! We’re gonna pay you…to act!”

— Darren Criss (on getting cast as Josh Burton on Eastwick) [x]

2) Darren getting his pass signed by Eastwick cast at Comic-Con 2009  - July 25, 2009

THR: What’s your favorite Comic-Con memory? Criss: My first Comic-Con I drove directly from a call-back in L.A. for Eastwick and when I got there, I thought it would be funny to go to the Eastwick panel since I was still in wardrobe from the call-back and had my Eastwick pass on me. I saw Rebecca Romijn and told her I’d auditioned as I was getting the pass signed. I ended up working on the show and forever after, Romijn referred to me as the “kid from Comic-Con.” I always have these wonderful serendipities during Comic-Con. [s]

[Fan photo cred X]

3) Eastwick premiere: September 23, 2009

Hey guys! Darren (Harry from AVPM) is on the show Eastwick, which premieres tonight (9-23-09) on ABC at 10/9c. If you’re a fan of Darren, witches and magic, you should check it out!

“Eastwick was also one of the eighty-four shows canceled in 2010. After the series was canceled on November 9, 2009 Kristin of E! Online held an online campaign to determine which endangered show should be given another chance; Eastwick won the poll with 54.5% of the vote. Show creator Maggie Friedman was "said to be extremely frustrated and angry" with how the network mishandled the show.” [x] The last two episodes remain unaired.

***COLD CASE***

Air date March 03, 2010

***GLEE***

Spring of 2010, he auditioned for another role on Glee for the“Laryngitis” ep which aired May 11, 2010

ROBERT ULRICH podcast excerpt: “I had met Darren Criss for the role of Finn. He obviously wasn’t right for Finn at all. But I hit it off with him immediately because he’s the greatest guy you’ve ever met. Then he came in for the role of the quadriplegic football player. But it wasn’t until Blaine came along that there was the right role for Ryan to meet him… Through that process, I did watch the Harry Potter musical. He’s an amazingly talented kid.” [x]

(An interview with the actor who won the role:

Paralyzed 'Glee' Guest Star Discusses Real Life Injuries May 18, 2010

“Glee received heat for casting Kevin McHale as Artie, a boy who needs a wheelchair, even though Kevin doesn't have any real life injuries that prevent him from walking. Were producers listening to that harsh criticism? On last week's episode, Finn and Rachel spent time with a boy who suffered a spinal cord injury. That guy's real name is Zack Weinstein, and this role hit very close to home for him...”[X])

September 30, 2010 - cast as “Blaine” [x]