cxncri

[cxncri]

love buzz [mello x reader] [chap. 5]

last chapter: chap. 4

author’s note: I’M SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING FOR MONTHS, I’VE BEEN SO BUSY W/ SCHOOL <\3

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after talking it out, you settle on act 4, scene 1. it’s the scene where beatrice persuades benedick to kill claudio, his friend. there’s a good banter, and plenty of room for dramatic improvisation. of course, the whole acting part is easier said than done.

it’s easier being around mello now, after all the tension and spite has been somewhat resolved. almost all of the previous malice and whatnot you’d held against him had subsided, and you honestly felt a lot better now. he’s almost bearable, and you’re starting to see why people like him so much. he’s charismatic, first of all, and the way he carries himself is full of confidence.

you’re both on your bed, and you’re suddenly aware of how close he is to you. this is the first time you’ve ever had a boy over, especially in your room? even though it wasn’t anything serious, it was still new to you. he seemed pretty at-ease though, so you weren’t entirely worried.

“okay, claudio? benedick? the hell are these names?” the two of you are hunched over, reading the script on your laptop. he has a point, because benedick? what type of name is that?

“give poor shakespeare a break. this was written in what, the 1500s? 1600s?”

“fair point, but still. i can’t believe i’m going to be some guy named benedick.”

this time you try and stifle your laugh when he says it, but he hears you before you can stop it.

“so you do have a sense of humor! honestly, that wasn’t even that funny, but i don’t think i’ve ever heard you laugh before.”

you scoff. “i’ve laughed before, i mean, duh, of course i have. i laugh all the time?” it comes out like a question, and mello raises an eyebrow at you.

“okay, i guess,” he says, dragging the “okay” out.

“i do!” you protest, shrugging. “like uh, like hmm,” you fumble for examples. “like yesterday! sayu and i were studying and-“

“seriously?” he interjects. “studying? the first example you think of has to do with studying?”

“it was the most recent example, okay? let’s just get back to working on this.”

“sounds good,” he agrees.

you get back to work, annotating and highlight important parts. it’s going to be somewhat of a challenge to memorize, but that’s the point, isn’t it? besides, both of you were always looking for a challenge, anyway.

after maybe twenty, thirty-ish minutes, you’ve made quite a decent amount of progress on it. see, it’s not only the scene where benedick agrees to kill claudio, but also the scene where benedick and beatrice admit that they love each other. it’s not a big deal, the romance part, but you have a feeling that neither of you will mention it.

since it’s only been a few hours, your parents aren’t back, and you have nothing else to do, you offer to put on the movie adaptation for much ado about nothing.

“sure,” mello says. “it’ll probably help visualize the scene more, you know?”

“yeah,” you agree. he rolls off your bed, stretching when he gets up. you get up, smooth out the blankets, and close your laptop, leaving it behind on your bed. you could’ve just watched it on your laptop, sure, but something about having him right next to you for the entire movie made you nervous.

you go downstairs, grabbing the snack you made earlier, a blanket, and the remote. you turn on the television, flipping through streaming services until you find one with the movie on it. mello flops down on the couch, and you sit next to him, leaving a good amount of distance between.

you start the movie and if you’re being honest, it’s not that entertaining.

“huh. i don’t know what i expected, but i expected more out of this, you know?”

you’re glad he feels the same about it, because as beneficial it might be for the acting, it’s so boring.

“do you just want to skip to the scene we’re doing so we can get this over with?”

“yeah, that would be better than this,” he concludes.

you fast-forward to the scene you need, and note how the characters interact, how the scene plays out. you’ll probably end up watching that specific scene again later, but it’s more interesting to you now after studying it for hours.

after the scene finishes, you realize the sun has set and it’s starting to get dark. since you and mello are done with everything for today, it’s probably best that he goes home. except, for some reason, you don’t really want him to leave? it’s nice having company that isn’t sayu for once, it’s different.

you’re just about to say something when he offers up the idea of going to get food.

“hey,” he says, “you said your parents weren’t going to be back until late, so how about we go get food somewhere?”

you’re a little stunned by this, to be honest, but it sounds fun.

“c’mon, i’ll drive,” he adds on, and you’re in. you didn’t really expect the day to end up like this, but you’re not exactly complaining.

he gets up from the couch and looks at you, waiting for you to follow him.

sure, you think. why not?

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taglist: @mo-3-bius

#death note fic #mello death note #mello x reader #mihael keehl #death note fluff #[love buzz] cxncri

[cxncri]

love buzz [mello x reader] [chap. 4]

last chapter: chap. 3

author’s note: this is just a short-ish chapter, but i hope you enjoy it! also, it’s growing increasingly difficult to find this silly little panels, so please forgive me for the fuzzy quality <\3

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mello comes over today, and for someone you don’t really like, you’re strangely paranoid about what he thinks of you. that’s why you’ve been frantically cleaning the house for the past hour, sweeping, dusting, washing everything you can reach. your parents had watched you, somewhat bewildered, as you lugged the trash bags out the door. you sigh, regretting your decision of offering your house as a space to work on the project. one more hour until he gets here. half of the work you’re doing is probably unnecessary, because is he really going to inspect the tops of the kitchen cabinets? probably not, but it can’t hurt.

you have everything ready; you’ve printed the script, planned what you’ll say, and practiced it a countless number of times. hell, you’ve even made a snack just in case either of you gets hungry.

your parents left earlier- they have an event or something this afternoon, a business something-or-other that’ll drag on forever, meaning they won’t get home until late at night, or early tomorrow. you’ll probably have to order something for dinner.

checking your watch, you realize you have around fifteen minutes until mello gets here. gritting your teeth, you accept that this is what you have to do. it’s for a major grade, and nothing can get in the way of a good score. especially not mello.

in all honesty, he’s been better lately. he’s been nicer to you, less prideful, more respectful. how odd. maybe he’s realized that being a dick to you won’t help him graduate as valedictorian, because you’re going to do that regardless of his behavior. still thinking on this, you pause for a second. why do you hate mello so much? hate wasn’t the right word for it. it wasn’t hate, it was more like…envy? that’s when it hit you- you were envious of mello.

you were envious of how he stayed out late, how he never treated anything like it was a big deal, how he was so calm, effortlessly. how did he do that? you had no clue. envious. that word echoed in your head as you thought about it. envious, jealous, however you want to put it.

the knock at the door shakes you out of your realization and you hurry to get the door. mello stands on the other side, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet.

“hi,” he says awkwardly.

you smile, close-lipped. “hi.”

he makes his way into your house, kicking his shoes off by the door, then stopping to straighten them neatly. you pause, not sure what to say. you’ve never had a boy in the house before, besides the occasional cousin or family friend. you decide to show him your room, because a house tour really isn’t necessary for a project.

while you both walk through your house, he stops, looking at a family photo from a few years ago. he squints at it, turning to face you.

“you look so different now.”

you glance at the photo, an old one of you at your secondary school’s graduation. “really? i don’t really look that different,” you say, considering it.

“you look more, i don’t know, mature now? more grown-up.”

now that he’s pointed that out, he’s right, you notice. of course you look more grown-up, but in the photo you look carefree, less put-together.

“ohh, yeah,” you say. “i see it now.”

the silence between you two isn’t tense, but it’s incredibly awkward as you walk up to your room. you finally get there, and despite the room being clean and there’s nothing wrong with it, you feel embarrassed all of a sudden. you almost feel exposed, as if you’re standing there completely bare.

his eyes wander across your room, looking at your bed, your shelves, your trinkets and accomplishments scattered around on display.

he goes to look at one, an old ribbon from a spelling bee. your eyes widen as you realize which spelling bee it was from. mello had won first, because of course he could spell ‘acquiesce’ at eleven years old.

“do you remember this?” he’s pointing at it, a smirk on his face.

“i do, unfortunately. do you remember what word you won with?”

he grins, which means he definitely does. “acquiesce. to reluctantly accept something, usually without protesting. for example, i acquiesced to the idea of working with you for this project.”

“nice job. for the record- you’re horrible too. i didn’t want to work with you either.”

he walks away from the ribbon, sprawling out on your bed. you sit on the edge, awkwardly, feeling like a stranger in your own room.

he turns to face you, continuing the conversation (if you could even call it that).

“harsh. you know, i don’t even hate you. i just don’t see why we can’t get along in a civil manner.”

he doesn’t hate you? interesting. you take note of this, somewhat surprised by his admittance of it.

“i don’t see why we can’t either. it’s you who makes everything a big deal, always trying to shove things in my face and all,” you say, crossing your arms.

“if neither of us see why we can’t get along, we might as well get along, no?” mello looks at you, cocking his head. that was a double negative, and he completely ignored the second part of your sentence, but you disregard that, choosing to think about what he just said. he wants to make amends? weird. still, you have no issues with accepting the offer.

“sure, i guess. i think we’re making this into a big deal, anyway.”

he nods, sticking out his hand. a handshake? he’s treating this like a business deal instead of an agreement to not hate each other. regardless of that, you stick your hand out, and the two of you shake on it. he has a solid, firm handshake, and his hand completely envelops yours. it’s almost nice, and you feel oddly comforted by it.

“so,” you start, “should we start the project now?”

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if you would like to be added to my taglist for this series, please feel free to dm me about it!!

taglist: @mo-3-bius

#death note #mello x reader #mello death note #death note x reader #death note fluff #mihael keehl #[love buzz] cxncri

[cxncri]

love buzz [mello x reader] [chap. 3]

last chapter: chap. 2

author’s note: hello! i hope that you all had a good christmas if you celebrate it, and i hope you’re doing well :)

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you take slow, sad steps over to mello's desk before sitting down at the desk next to him. he wears a scornful expression, and you honestly don't blame him for it. it's not like you want to work with him either.

"so."

"so," he responds, "how are we gonna do this?"

"i was thinking that we could start by choosing the play, of course, and then break it into pieces so we can study it over the week." he nods, hopefully retaining what you just said.

"okay," he says, uncrossing his arms. "just as long as you don't choose romeo and juliet. that's boring; everyone'll chose it."

you nod, because he's probably right. with luck, mello agrees to choose much ado about nothing, to your satisfaction. it was your favorite due to both the characters and the themes.

"where should we practice the scenes?" he asks. you hadn't even thought about that and you frown upon it being brought up. you suppose that your house is fine, and only for the sake of this project are you letting him come to your house.

"the acting. right. um, my house is fine, i guess. i'll send you the address later."

he gives you a thumbs-up.

"alright, cool. i'm free this weekend, for the most part, and the sooner we start the sooner we can get this shitshow over with."

nice. real nice, mello. it’s great to see that he’s looking forward to this!

"i'm free too-" you don't even finish your sentence before mello cuts you off.

"of course you are."

you sigh at his comments and furrow your brow. jerk. why does he have to be such a pain in the ass about everything?

“what's that supposed to mean?”

mello looks you dead in the eyes. “i’m saying that i’m not surprised you don’t have plans.”

it’s pointless to argue with him. whether it’s a true statement or not, you shake it off and ignore him, continuing your original sentence. "i'm free too, so i'll just text you whenever?"

"sounds good to me, i guess," he says.

you sigh again, for the millionth time in less than five minutes. oh well. it'll all be over soon enough. you just have to get through this project.

"seriously?" she asks, incredulously. "he's terrible! you deserve a medal for putting up with him for so long."

you snort, because she's right. you reach your car and swing open the door, gesturing for her to get in. she grins, getting in the passenger seat, because it was your way of silently offering to drive her home.

on the way to her house, you guys sing whatever chart-topping song is on the radio as you laugh, messing up half of the lyrics. there are tears from laughing so hard in your eyes when you drop her off, waving goodbye.

“thanks for the ride!” she says as she waves back.

“anytime,” you call back, leaning out of the window. “see you tomorrow!”

you get home, choosing to start working on the project immediately. you make a list of all the scenes you think would work, and you take a picture of it and send it to mello.

16:48

you: i made a list of all the scenes that we could do for the project. let me know if you want to add any.

16:53

mello: cool. i’ll finish reading the script and let you know. thanks.

you like his message and sit there, thinking. he’s nicer over text, you muse. huh. he even said thanks.

the tea goes off, signaling that it was time to study for that stupid chemistry test. you sigh, but this time you’re pretty sure you know what you’re doing. after all, it’ll all be worth it when you graduate as valedictorian and get into your top-choice college next year. you repeat this to yourself as you drown yourself in work and it becomes a looping mantra in your head, it’ll all be worth it.

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if you would like to be added to my taglist for this series, please feel free to dm me about it!!

taglist: @mo-3-bius

#death note #mello death note #death note x reader #mello x reader #death note fic #death note fluff #mihael keehl #[love buzz] cxncri

[cxncri]

love buzz [mello x reader] [chap. 2]

last chapter: chap. 1

author’s note: hi guys! i’m not sure how frequently i’ll be able to update this series, as i’m traveling for the holidays and i’ll be busy with all that. however, i’m trying to get these drafted and ready to post while i’m still at home, so i hope you enjoy!

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you wake up to the beeping of your alarm clock and the soft pattering of rain against the windows, blearily stumbling out of bed to turn the alarm off. you rub the sleep from your eyes and look out your bedroom window to see that it is most certainly pouring. how fun.

after your shower, you shiver as you pull on your uniform. you haven't checked the temperature outside yet, but if the temperature inside your house was any indicator, it was going to be a cold, rainy day. however, this was a day perfect for studying, and you were definitely happy about that. after getting ready, you head out the door. your parents had already left for work, and it always felt weird getting up in the morning with no one in the house. getting in your car, you drive off to school, preparing for a dreary day.

"okay- photoelectron spectroscopy. tell me about that."

the library was packed with people this morning, probably full of the students who were usually outside on the campus before school started. sayu groans as she rocks back in her chair, trying to remember whatever that was. your best friend was great, no doubt about that, but you suspected the only reason she agreed to study with you was for the free coffee from the school's cafe. you were most likely their best customer by now.

"come on," you urge, "what does it measure?"

"it measures, uh, something, definitely!" sayu says with a hopeful look. she screws her eyes shut, and after a long pause, she sighs. "i give up. i can't remember."

now it's your turn to sigh. "photoelectron spectroscopy," you announce, doing a slight drumroll on your textbook, "is used to measure relative energy of electrons in molecules and atoms." sayu frowns. "i wouldn't have guessed that in a million years, no matter how many cups of coffee you bought me." you laugh, shutting the notebook and dropping it in your bag. "let's go get your coffee- i think you're still asleep."

whoever put AP chemistry as your first class of the day must've had a serious vendetta against you. karma was here to kick you in the ass, because it was suddenly you who couldn't remember anything. you jot down notes in a trance-like state; it'll be a miracle if they're decipherable later. you watch the clock, counting the minutes until your next block, AP lit (with your favorite person, mello! you are most definitely, totally, surely over the scores from yesterday!). you try your best to stifle your yawns, and continue your note-taking haze.

finally the bell rings and ends your misery, and you head out of the classroom. heading down the stairs to the english hallway, you can't help but admire the way the rain looks outside. it's so pretty, the way the clouds blanket the sky and cast a fog over everything.

just about dropping into your seat, you plunk your things down onto your desk and wait for class to begin. AP lit you could manage, english being a strong suit of yours (and the class requiring minimal in-class participation).

class begins, and your teacher wastes no time, diving into today's class right away. you're humoring her- and maybe you aren't doing as well as you think, because you hear the words "partner" and "project" paired together and it catches you extremely off-guard. you snap out of whatever funk you've been in, trying to fill in the gaps of what you've missed.

"the two of you will act out a scene of your choosing, assuming i approve it. you'll repeat this three times over a six-week time frame; two weeks to prepare and perform each."

oh. oh no. acting wasn't good. presentations sucked, no matter how prepared you were, but acting out a skit? that was infinitely worse, especially with another person. the thought of standing in front of a large group of people and rehearsing something, something that was a major grade, scared the shit out of you.

"since most shakespearean plays have a movie made in the likeness of the original play, it may help to watch them after you read the initial script, for a better feel of the scene. this, however, is completely optional and up to you. you'll be working with the partners i've assigned. compromises will not be made without a valid reason."

your face falls. first the acting, then the randomized partners? this was horrific. absolutely horrific.

"if anyone has any questions, now would be the time to ask. if not," she continues, eyes sweeping the class, "then i will announce the partners, and you shall get started.

you hold your breath as she goes down the list of partners, finally arriving at your name."and you," she looks at you, no discernible expression on her face, "you'll be working with mr. keehl."

you freeze, looking over to see mello wearing the same gaping expression as you. his jaw is dropped, eyes wide open, face in shock. six-week project. compromises will not be made without a valid reason. is having to work with someone you can't stand in the slightest a valid reason to switch partners?

you're doomed. completely and utterly doomed.

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if you would like to be added to my taglist for this series, please feel free to dm me about it!!

taglist: @mo-3-bius

#mello death note #mello x reader #death note #death note fluff #[love buzz] cxncri #mihael keehl

[cxncri]

busted and blue [spike spiegel x reader]

summary: you need to stop being so mean to yourself, and spike will do whatever it takes to make you realize how important you are. cross-posted on ao3 :)

word count: 210

author’s note: this is a really short fic, but i was bored and i’m trying to get back into writing more. i hope you’re all doing well and taking care of yourselves :)

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“you’re so important to me, you know that, right?”

spike stops kissing you long enough to tell you this, holding your face in both hands. your tears have stopped by now, but your eyes still glisten and the tear tracks still run down your face.

he’s in disbelief that you would think this about yourself, that you “weren’t good enough,” that you “didn’t deserve him,” and how you were “a burden to everyone,” when it was the opposite. you’re his world, you’re everything to him.

every time he saw you cry, every time he heard you say these horrible things about yourself, it hurt him to see you like this. he would never want you to think these things were true, because they weren’t, and would never be.

“you’re the most beautiful-“

a kiss to your forehead.

“most amazing-“

a kiss to your temple.

“kindest-“

a kiss on your nose.

“smartest-“

a kiss on your neck.

“most beautiful person i know,” he finishes, kissing you on your lips. you’re too tired from crying to say much, but you whisper an “i love you” into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his chest. he holds you so tightly, so securely, because to him, he has all he needs in his arms.

#cowboy bebop #spike spiegel x reader #spike spiegel fluff #hurt/comfort #comfort #bebop fluff #i need to stop using spike spiegel as a father figure

[cxncri]

love buzz [mello x reader] [chap. 1]

summary: you and mello are academic rivals with the shared goal of being better than each other. forced to work on a project together, you need to learn out to get along. is this plot predictable? absolutely. are we gonna ignore that? yes we are! cross-posted on ao3!

author’s note: i’ll probably upload chapters throughout the month, but i’m working on a couple other fics right now. as always, i hope you like it!

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papers shuffling in hand, your teacher hands your papers from last week’s test back one at a time. the room is quiet, hushed murmurs and whispers punctuating the silence every so often. approaching your seat, you stiffen and sit straight up, preparing for whatever is on the paper. there was one more semester in your third year of high school, and you intended to finish the year with straight a’s, just like last year, and the year before that. you had your sights set on being your class’s valedictorian, and to make that, happen every grade counted. the test was brutal- you’re sure you passed, but with flying colors? you hope so, but you’re not so sure.

almost snatching the paper out of the air, your eyes fly to the right hand corner and-

“ninety-eight.”

your face falls as the boy who sits behind you announces his score. mihael kheel, or mello, as everyone calls him, is already smirking. you turn and look at him, hands behind his head with his paper fully displayed on the desk, boasting the grade he’d just announced previously. you sigh, handing the paper back over your head. you got a ninety-six.

he looks at the score and scoffs, handing it back immediately. you glare at him, taking the test back and stuffing it deep inside your backpack.

“looks like i win this time,” mello says with a shit-eating grin.

you huff, turning all the way in your seat to face him. “shut up! at least i didn’t rub it in your face the last two- no, the last three times! you’re just lucky i-“

the bell drones out the rest of sentence, and you gather your things and stand up. you walk out of the class, hoping to get to your bus before mello catches up with you.

“ah, not so fast!”

shit.

“you beat me,” you grumble, your brisk walk turning into a trudge. he’s practically floating, skipping beside you. “i know! every winning grade is a grade closer to being valedictorian!”

sure it’s childish, but this has been going on as long as you’ve known him. it’s not a rivalry, per say, just a highly competitive acquaintanceship. not a friendship. you two aren’t friends- not by any stretch of the imagination.

he gloats about it all the way to the parking lot, all the way up until you slam your car door in his face. you wave goodbye as you pull out of the parking spot, making a mental note to text him about the last three grades. sure it’s petty, but you’re not going to let mello get in the way of your only goal for high school. there’s no way you’re going to let him graduate as a co-valedictorian with you either. no way in hell.

as soon as you get home, you look over the paper. after going through it twice, no mistakes were made with the grading; that ninety-six was here to stay. it wasn't even the grade that bothered you by now- it was the fact that mello did better than you and broke your streak. there was something about him that just irked you, something about him that rubbed you the wrong way. you just weren't sure what it was.

groaning, you drag your feet into the kitchen and make yourself some tea. you put the kettle on the stove and while you wait, you pull out your phone and mindlessly scroll. not much is going on aside from the wake of post-party pictures and such, but one post catches your eye. it's of mello, his best friend matt is there looking shit-faced drunk. it's a priceless photo though, there's three pizza boxes teetering on matt's head and mello is smiling this stupidly goofy grin. you catch yourself smiling at the photo, and for his sake you hope that no college ever sees that.

you don’t know how mello does it, finding time to balance school with everything else. he goes to all these parties, he stays out late, he has time to sleep in and relax. you just don’t know how he does it. he’s nothing short of a genius, but some things just don’t make sense.

the kettle starts whistling and snaps you out of your mindless scrolling, signaling the start of your study time. it was like a ritual at this point; the kettle goes off, you make the tea, you study. speaking of studying, you had another test coming up next week. the last test of the semester (in AP chem, no less), so you really should’ve started studying earlier.

after steeping the tea, you take it back to your room, shrugging off your school’s uniform and swapping it for a huge sweater. the weather was so cold, and it was really time for you to switch your stockings for thick tights underneath your school skirts. you shiver, cupping your hands around the warm cup of tea and opening your backpack, groaning as you see the chemistry section of your binder. you pull out the review packets you’d been putting together and set them on your desk. it was going to be a long week of studying.

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if you would like to be added to my taglist for this series, please feel free to dm me about it!!

#death note #mello x reader #mello death note #enemies to friends to lovers #mihael keehl #death note fic #[love buzz] cxncri

[cxncri]

like blood from a stone [joseph joestar x caesar zeppeli]

summary: joseph comes to terms with his feelings after caesar's death, and he realizes there's nothing he can do to change anything. cross-posted on ao3.

word count: 569

author’s note: hi! seasonal depression is killing me currently, but i’m trying to write more. also help i can’t stop writing angst kxbjkbxkjxkzcjx

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it’s nights like these where joseph feels the most alone. he sits here, back in his room, and reflects on every fucking thing that he’s done wrong. it’s late, too late to be thinking about this, but he’s so damn tired, so damn guilty.

the nightmares are still happening, too. it’s horrible how many times his mind replays the same scene, over, and over, and over again.

caesar.

stupid, headstrong caesar. caesar, who was so proud of his bloodline, so stubborn and so brave.

worst of all, joseph is responsible for everything that happened. i really am, he thinks bitterly.

“your words struck a chord where caesar is his most vulnerable.”

this is what lisa lisa had told him as caesar stormed off- that his words, joseph’s words, did this. he was the one to bring it all up, he was the one to blame for caesar’s death. hell, joseph thinks. there really is no one to blame but me.

no matter how hard that truth hurt him, there was always the other truth that hurt much more.

caesar would never know how much joseph loves him.

this, deep down in his heart, hurt him the most. he didn’t love caesar, no— he loves caesar. he loves him still, even after he’s gone, after joseph knows he’s not coming back. he’ll love caesar until he, too, dies.

not love as in the way one would love a friend, or an interest, or a possession. love as in joseph would’ve done anything for caesar, anything. he would’ve taken a bullet, he would’ve died for him, all at the slightest request.

and yet, still, caesar would never know.

a tear rolls down joseph’s cheek, and then another, and he sits there, head in his hands, wondering how he could fuck up this badly.

the worst part is, he thought, i’ll never find anyone else like caesar. i’ll never find someone as clever, as dedicated, or as beautiful. i’ll never meet him again. i’ll never find someone who made me as happy as he did, who fixed everything the second he looked at me, telling me it was all going to be okay.

joseph feels so goddamn pathetic, so goddamn desolate. he can cry all he fucking wants, but in the end, it’s his fault.

lisa lisa knew how much he cared for caesar, but did she know the extent? did she know that joseph would’ve killed for caesar, would’ve sacrificed anything and everything for him?

would caesar have loved me back ? this hurts him more than anything else. joseph’s heart splits in two, wrenched apart by this question. but every night, he asks himself this, and every night, he cannot seem to figure it out.

joseph doesn’t even realize how hard he’s been crying until he realizes he can’t breathe. he’s panicking, he doesn’t know where he is and everything is so, so loud. it’s everywhere— surrounding him, in his ears, inside his head. he can’t escape and he can’t hide.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been like this, but eventually he finds his breath again, gasping. his throat burns, he’s dizzy, he’s aching, yet he’s so fucking numb. he doesn’t even have the strength to cry anymore.

this hollow feeling, this emptiness, it haunts him. every night, it’s all he’s left with. he’s left with nothing but his failures and mistakes, and he deserves it. he deserves it all.

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #jjba fanfic #caesar zeppeli #joseph joestar #jjba angst #why does the tumblr algorithm hate me

[cxncri]

white ferrari [joseph joestar x reader]

summary: joseph is bad with girls, and you’re good at making people feel better. so, logically, you go to get ice cream to cheer him up (you also ride ride a motorcycle!) cross-posted on ao3 :)

word count: 1,249

author’s note: hey guys! this is just a short idea i had, and i might add a second chapter if it does well.

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you’re sitting on the counter, listening to joseph talk about how it didn’t work with that girl from his history class. you swing your feet as you watch him pace, slightly amused by this. this is the third time this month that you’ve had to listen to him lament and whine about girls, and how he’s so sure he’s “going to die alone.” he’s exaggerating, of course, because he has girls falling all over him. he’s just, well, picky.

he stops, mid-step. “hello? are you even listening?”

“yeah- yeah i am,” you say, hoping whatever he just asked was a yes or no question. he looks at you, with a scrutinizing expression.

“are you sure? what did i just say?” he’s got you there. go be completely honest, you stopped listening around the third or fourth sentence, responding with an occasional “hm,” or “really?”

you look at him, with a somewhat guilty expression. no “fine, i admit, i was zoned out.”

he sighs, shrugging. “i don’t blame you for it. thanks for putting up with me, at least. i know it’s annoying to hear about every time something doesn’t work out, but it’s nice to talk about it, you know?”

you feel a little bad for him now. you hop off the counter, almost slipping on the floor. joseph rushes over to catch you, getting you before you tip over. it catches you off guard and your cheeks get hot, not expecting the sudden contact. “thanks,” you say, shaking it off. he was just being nice; there’s no reason to get all flustered.

“what i was going to say, before i almost cracked my skull open, was that we should get ice cream!” it’s easy, a go-to solution for most problems.

he cocks his head, looking at you. “ice cream?” he asks, puzzled. you nod sagely. “ice cream,” you repeat. “to make you feel better. i’ll pay,” you add on, trying to convince him. in all honesty, you want to take his mind off everything. it’s not healthy for it to be weighing on him all the time, and you want to help him however you can.

“cool!” he says, seeming to cheer up. “i’m not letting you pay though,” he says as he tugs his shoes on. ah, joseph, ever the gentleman. you get your stuff and as you start walking, headed downtown towards the ice cream parlor, he stops you. “where do you think you’re going?”

“huh?” it then dawns on you, as you see joseph leaning against his motorcycle. it’s new- a graduation gift from his grandmother, erina.

“no way. no way am i getting on that,” you say, crossing your arms. you’ve seen joseph drive, and that’s enough of a reason not to get on it. on top of that, he doesn’t even wear a helmet most of the time.

he pouts. “come on, it’s fun! i’ll drive especially safe because i’ll have precious cargo on it!”

you laugh, because that line was embarrassingly corny. “precious cargo? you’re so cheesy!” you laugh, secretly flattered he considers you “precious cargo,” despite how stupid it sounds.

“fine, i guess,” you say, giving up. “you have to wear a helmet though.”

he sighs, “if i must.”

he goes to get the helmets, returning with two. he hops on the motorcycle, and you stand there, unsure of how to get on. “do i just… jump?” you ask, not sure what exactly to do. he grins at you, “swing your leg over, and hold on to me if you need support.”

“i will definitely not need support, thank you very much,” you say triumphantly, putting on your helmet. you stand, planting one foot on the ground and as you swing the other you realize you might, in fact, need support. begrudgingly, you hold onto his waist as you attempt to get on the motorcycle.

as soon as you’re on the motorcycle, joseph puts his helmet on and then turns around to look at you. “you good?” he asks, voice muffled by the helmet. you give him a thumbs-up, and he starts the motorcycle. as the engine starts, the vehicle stutters, and you grab back onto his waist. “i forgot to mention,” he calls back to you, “you should probably hold on tight.”

with that, he start moving. at first, you’re terrified you’ll fall off, that the vehicle will tip over, that you’ll be hit by another vehicle. however, none of these things happen as he cruises down the road. he’s going at a leisurely pace, as not to scare you, and you definitely appreciate that. it’s nice, almost, and it’s somewhat comforting to hold on to him. he picks up speed as he crosses the bridge, and you hold on tight, leaning into him. you close your eyes, not because you’re scared, but because this is nice. you’re not even sure what ‘this’ is- him? the motorcycle? the adrenaline? you appreciate it nonetheless.

you enter the downtown area, and you slow down and he eases into a break, parking the motorcycle with a jolt. once you’re sure that the engine is stopped, you take off your helmet and attempt to gracefully dismount the motorcycle. you take a deep breath, stepping onto the sidewalk with shaky legs.

“so, what did you think? were my motorcycle skills as impressive as you thought they’d be?”

“that was actually really fun,” you say. “thank you- i don’t think i’m scared of that thing anymore,” you say, gesturing to the motorcycle. joseph grins. “good! now i get to drive you around, and you get to look cool! it’s a solid trade off, if you ask me.” you nod, pretending to think it over. “indeed it is,” you say. “okay- now to do what we came to do- get ice cream!”

joseph pushes open the door to the ice cream parlor, holding it for you. “thank you,” you say as you walk in. it’s pretty busy in there, filled with families, friends, dates. you stand in line with joseph, looking at the menu. after deciding on what to get, you go reserve a booth near the window. after sitting down for a while, just talking about life and everything that comes with that, your ice cream is brought out.

you choose to savor yours, but joseph, on the other hand, dives right into his. he has the entire thing polished off before you’re even halfway through yours, and you laugh at him. it’s not often you go out with him, because you’re busy with school and he’s busy with girls, partying, everything else.

“you know,” he says, “this did make me feel a little bit better. thank you,” he looks into your eyes, and you can tell that he means it. “i really appreciate it.”

you smile. “glad that i could help,” you say, meaning it. he stretches, flexing his fingers, and then leans back against the booth. “i’m, uh, really glad that you and i were able to hang out,” he says awkwardly. you might be wrong, but it almost looks like he’s blushing? it’s cute, nonetheless.

as you finish up your ice cream, you grab your stuff and you leave the ice cream parlor, both feeling a little bit better. you don’t struggle as much to get on the motorcycle this time, and you don’t hesitate to hold on to his waist. it’s comforting, it really is.

he starts up the engine, and you set off, holding him a little bit tighter than before.

#joeseph joestar #jjba joseph #joseph joestar x reader #jjba part 2 #jjba x reader #battle tendency

[cxncri]

stigmata martyr [misa amane]

summary: misa amane decides to commit suicide after her life without kira becomes pointless. cross-posted on ao3.

word count: 900

author’s note: this is somewhat of a dark fic; please read the tags if you’re easily triggered. also! i’m trying to post more consistently but school is killing me right now :((

“when light died, bleeding out on that staircase, dying of a heart attack, misa did too, just internally. misa’s heart kept beating, but her will to live faded, for she had realized that she no longer had anything to live for. no savior was going to save her now.”

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light yagami was her god, casting down his ruling and authority down on the unworthy and unjust who’ve done wrong. he was her idol, untouchable on a throne of righteousness.

he’s misa’s savior, and every single time she looked up at him with her round eyes shining with admiration, he felt so adored. not adored as in a way a family might love each other, but adored as in the way a king loves his subjects; the way a god loves his followers. the thing that he loved most about misa was she would do anything for him, how she would steal for him, kill for him, die for him.

and that’s exactly what she’s about to do.

she’s about to die for kira, just to see him again. she’ll see him in his heavenly kingdom, where he’ll sit atop his throne and finally be not only a god to misa, but a god to everyone.

and when light died, bleeding out on that staircase, dying of a heart attack, misa did too, just internally. misa’s heart kept beating, but her will to live faded, for she had realized that she no longer had anything to live for. no savior was going to save her now. she had no purpose, no god to worship, no one who would look out for her. without kira, there was nothing left to live for, which means she was worthless. her only purpose was to serve light, to love him, to put her faith in him.

she’s so desperate for a reason to live again that she would go to the ends of the earth for him. she would walk and make her aching body carry her as far as it needed to see him again. she would walk until her feet bled against the ground, until she was starving, because only he could satisfy her hunger at this point.

but she knows she can’t. kira isn’t coming back. there’s nothing she can do anymore, and there’s no purpose for her in this world anymore.

she can hear the church bells in the distance, seven chimes resounding from them. with every chime, her heart grows heavier and her resolve hardens.

misa’s gown is pinched in both hands, and it’s hanging just above her ankles, the lace-trimmed hem just barely brushing the ground. she’s taking slow, careful steps up the stairs, taking one stair at a time. she’s ascending up, up, up, and she can see the sun, almost setting. her time is running out, the hourglass of misa amane’s life has nothing but a few grains of sand left trickling down. she holds her head high, chin up as she reached the top of the stairs. it’s her bridal march to the end, to her funeral.

a bridal march. she and light never got married. her eyes full with tears as she thinks about this, how she was robbed of light, robbed of a marriage, robbed of the man she loved most.

she can see the ledge clearly now, overlooking the entire city of tokyo. her shoes click on building’s roof, and from up here, it’s silent. there’s no wind, no sounds from the city, no one on this roof but her. there’s nothing but silence up here. it surrounds misa, leaving her with nothing but herself and her thoughts.

she steps closer and closer to the ledge until she can see over it, she can see the cars moving, the people walking, the happy couples walking together because their future wasn’t ripped from them. she’s so bitter, her heart is full of hate and spite and nothing can stop the tears forming in her eyes.

she’s sobbing, she’s hysterically crying on this roof from which she’s about to end her life. she misses light so badly, she just wants to be with him again, she just wants her lover back. her sobs subside, because in the midst of this breakdown, she remembers. she remembers what she’s doing; she’s about to get her lover back. her tears turn to laughter as she stands here, overlooking the city.

she feels delirious, insane, fucking hysterical as she laughs and laughs until her tears turn from tears of sorrow to tears of mania. her makeup is ruined, running down her face. she’s more determined than ever now, determined to see him again. he’s waiting for her, just over the edge of the building; he’ll be with her again as soon as she hits the ground.

taking a shaky breath in, she approaches the ledge, preparing to finally do it, to finally commit. she stands up straight, holds her head up high, and falls back.

at first it doesn’t feel like much. it doesn’t feel like much until she starts plummeting, plummeting down, down, down. the wind is everywhere, she can hear it rushing in her ears, her hair is loose, and she stretches her arms out. in this moment she feels as if she could fly. she feels ethereal, she feels invincible.

she’s almost there, it’s almost over.

she closes her eyes.

she’s smiling.

there’s blood everywhere.

misa amane is nothing but a pile of broken bones and dislocated joints, a gruesome picture of how far she was willing to go for love. it’s horrifying, it’s disgusting, it’s a sickening case of a martyr dying for their cause. in the end, that’s really all she is; a martyr. a martyr who died for her truth.

#death note #misa amane #light yagami #misa amane death note #light yagami death note #death note angst #bad ending #death note fic #kira #death note fanfiction #angst

[cxncri]

give you the world [spike spiegel x reader]

summary: short fic; pure fluff because i wanted to write about this exquisite man. cross-posted on ao3!

word count: 411

author’s note: i’m so glad i can finally post my work here because it makes me so happy to share it :) if you want, feel free to give me any feedback/suggestions!

“he almost forgets that you’re real sometimes, that you love him too, that you’re his. he can’t think straight with this stupor you’ve put him in, this thing that only you can do to him.”

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it’s so peaceful like this, just you and spike laying together, enjoying each other’s company. you feel at home here, lying with him on the bebop’s couch, letting him hold you. he has one hand snaked around your waist and the other strokes your hair. you have both of your arms tight around his waist and you feel so safe, so secure in his grip. you feel protected, like nothing bad could ever happen to you.

spike looks down at you smiles, because in his eyes you’re perfect. you’re perfect to him and he’s not going to let anything hurt you, not now, not ever. your eyelids are are half-shut with drowsiness and you look so adorable, so small and so cute. you’re gorgeous, spike thinks, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head. you look up from your current position and reach up to kiss him, kissing his lips, his nose, his jaw, anywhere that you can reach.

he’s smiling into the kiss, his thumb rubbing circles into your back. you turn so that you’re fully facing him, throwing your hands around his neck, bringing his face closer and closer to yours. you’ve sealed any remaining space between the two of you a long time ago, and in this moment, all he can think about is how he’s so in love with you. he’s always in love with you, from the time he wakes up with you sleeping beside him to the time he goes to sleep with you in his arms. you’re so beautiful to him, so amazing. he almost forgets that you’re real sometimes, that you love him too, that you’re his. he can’t think straight with this stupor you’ve put him in, this thing that only you can do to him.

you finally break away from him and nestle your face into his neck, eyes closing and breaths becoming steadier. it’s late, and the only other sounds on the bebop are the soft hum of the television and the old creaks from the ship’s machinery. he leans his head so that it’s touching yours, and you drift off to sleep, leaving spike wrapped around you still. he admires your sleeping form, your body rising and falling with each breath. his hand is on the small of your back, and he can feel every breath go in and out, in and out, forming a soothing pattern. he yawns, finally giving in to the sweet temptation of sleep.

#spike #spike spiegel #spike x reader #spike spiegel x reader #bebop #cowboy bebop #fluff #bebop fluff #fanfic #fanfic ao3

[cxncri]

only ones who know [suna x reader]

summary: you and suna get stuck in an elevator while going to get midnight snacks, and the two of you realize something important. cross-posted on ao3 as well!

word count: 1,056

author’s note: this was one of my first fics, i apologize for any mistakes! i hope you all like it :)

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the lights of the elevator flicker once, twice, and go out with a pop!

right after you’re able to process this, the elevator stops abruptly and you’re jolted to the ground. you yelp, completely unprepared for that entire sequence of events.

“what- hello??”

“suna??”

you blink, eyes adjusting to the darkness. it’s one thing to have an elevator break down, and another to have the power go out. both of these things happening was just unfortunate.

“are you good?” if you didn’t know any better, you would say he sounds shaken up. despite it being a small space, you feel lost, and the faint glow of the emergency light isn’t bright enough to see anything.

“yeah, i’m okay. a little spooked, but nothing too bad.” you put your hand on the floor to steady yourself and grimaced, trying not to think of what could’ve possibly been on this floor in the past.

“what about you? are you okay?” you ask, leaning against the wall. you’re suddenly aware of the fact that you’re trapped in such a small place with him, and your heart starts to race. you shake your head, choosing to focus on the most important thing: getting out of here and back to the room.

“it’s dark.” typical suna.

“great observation, smartass.”

“fine, yeah, i’m fine. so, we’re probably stuck in here for a while. the storm must’ve been worse than i thought.” he sounds tired, more so than usual. “yeah… do you have your phone with you? we should probably call someone for help.”

he groaned. “shit. no, i left it with the rest of my stuff in the room. i didn’t think i would need it, but uh, my mistake.”

to be fair, you were out on a midnight snack raid, completely unprepared for an entire power outage. still, it was unlike him to not bring his phone, and horribly ironic that he didn’t have it the one time you needed it.

“hmm… let’s see…” you think out loud, trying to think of the best way to get out of this elevator. coming up short, you sit back, stumped. with no phone, no way to get help, and no ideas, you’ll probably just have to wait this one out.

“we could press the emergency button, that’ll probably do something??” smart. you hadn’t even considered that, and you’re suddenly thankful for the other person here stuck in here with you.

“oh yeah! good idea!” you move towards where your best guess of the elevator button is, reaching out to touch the wall. instead of the wall, to your surprise, your hand is met with what feels to be fabric. surprised, you pitch forward, landing on top of (what is hopefully) suna. you both pause for a second, and then you scramble, trying to get off of him as fast as you possibly can.

“sorry, sorry! i was looking for the button, i’m so sorry!” your face feels hot and you’re so, so flustered.

“geez, y/n, you’re not the type i would expect to get handsy in such a crisis!” he’s just teasing, like he always does. there’s a somewhat-suppressed laugh in his tone, and you’re so glad you can’t see his face right now.

“i didn’t- hey- geez! it was an accident!” your face is probably way past flushed by now. if it was anyone else you would’ve brushed it off, but with suna? no way. you’ve been best friends since you were kids, and you’ve liked him for years. hell, you were even roommates, and he still had no clue. despite how many hints you’ve tried to drop and signs you’ve tried your best to give him, he’s always been oblivious to them. you’ve learned to live with this by now, accepting it for what it was.

“just messing with you. the button is over here, anyway.” see, you had the right direction, just a little uh, off-target. you hear a click, and you assume he pushed the button. you both wait for a second, hesitantly expecting something, but nothing happens. “well, shit. that didn’t work. since we’re gonna be here for a bit, you mind if i stretch out? it’s not easy being in such a cramped space with my height.”

“oh- yeah, that’s fine, take as much space as needed.” you scoot, trying to move out of his way. “alright,” he yawns. “cool.” you hear him shuffle around, getting situated. hugging your knees, you rock back and forth, getting tired as well. you sigh, fighting a yawn. eventually, you give in.

“suna…?” you ask, softly, “are you asleep yet?” his response back is quick. “nope. it’s actually kinda difficult to sleep on an elevator floor. why?”

again, you sigh, unzipping your hoodie for the greater good. “here, use this.” you toss it in his general direction, and you hear a thump and a muffled “thanks,” so you assume he got it. he shuffles again, and then pauses. “wait, y/n, do you wanna lay down over here too-? like, there’s enough room and all…” he trails off, waiting for an answer.

you scoot yourself over to him again. “uh, sure, i mean, if you’re sure there’s enough room, that sounds great-“

“c’mere.” his arm wraps around you and you let him pull you next to him. your hoodie underneath you isn’t much, but it’s better than laying on the bare floor.

you could feel his body next to yours, warm and comforting, and it put you at ease. “thanks…” you mumble, embarrassed once again. your eyelids grow heavy, and you shut them, this time letting sleep take over. suna’s breaths grow slower, and you assume he’s gone to sleep.

right before you doze off, you’re aware of his arm curling around your waist. “suna-?” you whisper, surprised by it. “shhh,” he whispers. “just go to sleep.”

you smile, because for a midnight snack run, this wasn’t too bad. you wrap your arms around him, feeling safe here, in this small space.

feeling brave, or maybe just tired, you rest your head against his chest, and for a second he doesn’t move. you contemplate moving, because what if you took it too far, and before you can do anything you feel him pull you close to him. you feel so fragile here, so delicate.

“goodnight. sleep well.”

“goodnight. you too.”

#fanfic #fanfic ao3 #suna #haikyuu suna #haikyuu!! #haikyū!! #haikyu x reader #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #fluff #friends to lovers #ao3 writer

[cxncri]

hello! i absolutely no clue what i’m doing, but this is just where i’ll be posting my writing and other stuff. i’ve linked my ao3 page here if you would like to check it out! i’m still figuring this all out, so bear with me please. i’m excited to see how this goes!!

- cancri <33

#fanfic #fanfic ao3 #new tumblr #new fanfic #new account #ao3 author #how do i tag this #i apologize for the mess #i’ll learn how to tag eventually