#I’m not from an English land but kids saying ‘there’s more of this to come’ feels wild

[limelocked]

[liillyliilly]

No Free-Solo

kenji sato x reader words; 10021 synopsis; from high school on, kenji couldn't do it alone, especially not when she was there for him.

“You’re missing me with that busy shit. You’re missing me with your whole ‘I can’t come over tonight’ act.” Kenji sat in what she liked to refer to as his dungeon, his lair, his Ultraman den. His too large for life couch made of black leather was cold and the emptiness was expansive in his mansion. He wanted her near, he wanted her to come back.

“I really can’t come over, I’m helping out Ami with Chiho tonight.” She tried to let him down gently, but he huffed through the phone.

She wasn’t a nanny per se, but she did do a fair amount of long-term babysitting for lots of people, mostly for Ami, occasionally for other busy mothers. She had a certain touch to the whole watching and raising kids thing, entertaining the child while also educating them.

Chiho was snoring in her bed. Ami was out with her fellow reporter boyfriend. And she, well she was watching movies in the family room of Ami’s house. Drawings that Chiho had done were covering the walls, plenty of Ultraman pictures to Kenji’s amusement.

She knew the Sato family through a long-winded connection by friendship shared between mothers. Kenji’s mom was best friends with her mom. In terms of maturity though, she was light years ahead of Kenji even when they were in high school. Back in America, when life was typical (meaning lacking in Kaiju and Ultraman responsibility) and the LA Dodgers still reigned supreme in Kenji’s head. They had met for the first time right before her junior year and his senior year.

She would be the youngest junior at the school and he would be one of the oldest seniors at their Los Angeles high school.

Her mom had insisted they visit her good friend the summer before her junior year started, and that she would need to help the son out in adapting to American High school since they had just moved from Japan.

She was worried due to a potential language barrier, but her mom assured her that he would be fluent in English. But how would her mom know that? Her anxiety was off the charts. She spent hours studying basic Japanese, which she found was probably going to kill her, why a language needs more than one writing system was beyond her.

“Ah! It’s so good to see you, Emiko!” Her mom went in for a big hug, and the petite Japanese woman returned the hug with as much enthusiasm as had been given. Her mom muttered about the separation between Emiko and Hayao, and Emiko gave a strained smile, leading them into the house.

Kenji was lounging on the couch, which she soon learned that he loved to do, a tendency to sprawl due to his height and lankiness. He was switching TV channels, until he landed on a baseball game and committed to watching that.

Her mom ushered her over to him, telling her to make conversation and get to know him. How she expected her to do that despite not knowing him at all was a wonder. She didn’t suspect that they had anything in common, and with the zeal he was watching the baseball game, she also suspected that he wasn’t going to be a huge fan of her preference for movies and shows over sports.

So she mustered up a greeting in Japanese from a textbook she had picked up. She had missed the way his eyes glinted with amusement, it was at that moment he decided to play just a small inconsequential game. A game where he pretended he didn’t know any English.

He responded in Japanese, and she realized she really knew nothing at all about Japanese. He sat up and patted the seat next to him. The moms left the main living space in favor of drinking some tea upstairs on a balcony, leaving her alone and incapable of communicating.

Pointing to herself, she said her name with a forced smile. He said ‘Kenji’ while pointing to himself and saying a variety of other words that she had no idea meant anything at all. At least Japanese sounded pretty, so she started thinking about the linguistic history and design of the syllables. He waved a hand in front of her face and she snapped out of her mini history lesson to herself.

Pushing his joke a little further, he used his head to point to a door near the stairs. She raised an eyebrow. He spoke for a few more moments, and she could only stiffly smile and nod in return. When he grabbed her hand and went to the door she thought she was going to die.

Inside the door was his room, and she really thought that this was the end of her sanity, her childhood, her innocence. She had fandangled herself into an intimate relationship with someone who didn’t even speak English and her heart was going to burst at the seams. Trying to recall all the words she had memorized, she was mad that she never learned the words for; no, stop, or I’ll kill you.

It was when she began to slink towards the door and hold her arms across her body in a cross shape that he realized maybe he should drop the joke. Her ears seemed like they were burning and her breathing had increased to a mile a minute in pace.

“Relax, I just wanted to show you my baseball cards.” He held up a binder and opened it to reveal a collection of player cards double sleeved and tucked neatly into a sheet protector.

“I thought you didn’t speak any English!” She frowned and put a hand to her heart. He laughed and she realized she had fallen for a trick.

“My bad.” He holds his hands together and puts them up near his head with a slight bow to apologize. Kenji pushes his bangs back and licks his top row of teeth, “Do you know if our school has a baseball team?” He asks.

She nods. “We’re in the top bracket for playing, it’s super hard to get onto the team though, my friend tried-”

He raised a hand to get her to stop speaking, then he informed her of his inherent athletic prowess, “Believe me, I’ll get onto the team.”

And he had. He’d even qualified to play on the varsity team.

A few months into the school year, while she was eating in the library with some friends, Kenji came bustling into the open space with his pack of baseball players. They always tagged along behind him, treating him like some sort of fancy foreign exchange kid, which she realized was exactly the situation and so her mental analogy didn’t end up working out and she clicked her teeth.

But the majority of white boys at the school did tend to lean a little too hard into the racial stereotypes and unfunny jokes. All Kenji could do sometimes was purse his lips and keep eating his natto. They thought because they had an Asian friend it was an excuse for their behavior, why Kenji never stood up to them and told them off was a huge confounding plight in her eyes. Kenji himself didn’t quite understand it either. Not even when they shortened his name into just Ken for ease and convenience.

Before she could tidy up her comparison and dissection of Kenji Sato, he was leaning on her desk, eating her carrots and searching for her eyes to meet him. He said something in Japanese, and she tried to remember how the words sounded so she could look up what he had said.

“I need your help.” He stole a bite of her sandwich, then drank some of her water. Before he even took it without asking, she offered her pastry to him and he ate the whole thing in one bite and mumbled a ‘thanks’ with his mouth full. He finished chewing and swallowing.

“I need you to pretend to date me so I can get these guys off my back.” He stuck his thumb in the direction of his teammates.

“Absolutely not. No way in hell, Kenji.” She started to pack up her bag, but he just put his hand on her bag and pressed it hard against the desk. With his other hand he gently grabbed her by the chin, and tilted her face up to his. Inches away. Her eyes went wide.

“Pretty please?” He licked his lips and she tried to bring her own face back to avoid his tongue getting to her lips.

She thought about what her mom said, telling her to help out Kenji if he needed it. This couldn't apply though, right?

“I’m going to need so many favors.” She groaned, managing to get her bag out from under his hands.

He pressed a quick kiss to her lips, ruffling her hair and heading out with his friends who began to goad him for keeping her a secret for so long. He had just taken her first kiss and it didn’t seem like it bothered him at all. She was too busy pressing her hand to her lips to even notice the way his ears were a scorching hot red.

When she went to research what he had said to her, she thought she must have misheard him because the proposed English translation was something along the lines of, ‘please let this work out in my favor’.

Continuously, she called in favors, and he was there to meet them. Getting books off the top shelves in the library. Sharpening pencils when they were studying. Even helping her learn just a little more of his language.

“No, no you gotta give each syllable its own beat. Copy me.” Kenji went over the blended ‘r’ and ‘l’ sound that felt clunky in her mouth.

She did replicate what he was saying, at least to her own belief that that was her best ability. He laughed a little and she frowned.

“Okay, move your tongue a little, right behind your front teeth, but also not touching your teeth, just let your tongue kinda do the sound in the middle.” Kenji opened his mouth a little so she could observe. She tried again but it sounded even worse than the first attempt.

“I wish I could just move your tongue for you so you could get the motion right.” She looked quickly side to side, biting her bottom lip. Kenji backtracked immediately, “That didn’t come out quite right, I think that’s enough Japanese for one day.” She nodded rapidly and closed the journal she was using to take notes.

He said that they could go get food, she agreed and they got burgers and milkshakes at a run down family owned diner. He paid, despite her insisting she could pay for her own food. Saying that that was apart of the whole fake dating thing.

“You know, you do a lot of things under the guise of our not dating, dating thing.” She sipped her milkshake. Kenji took a bite of his burger, musing about what he would say.

“Well, we’re friends as well right?”

“Yeah, we’ve been hanging out since you basically arrived here. We’re friends, but honestly, we behave more like best friends.” She finished off her shake and cleaned up her area.

That was something he liked about her, her consideration for cleanliness and organization. But also her appreciation for others around her, cleaning up her stuff so that the likely overworked waitress didn’t have to. A person who thinks about other people. Now that was his type he decided.

“I’m happy with being best friends.”

In all fairness, he was probably the best fake boyfriend that a girl could’ve asked for. They had settled on knowing their relationship was best friends, but for others they had the additional label of dating. Sometimes though, he’d do something like grab her hand or wrap an arm around her. When those situations presented themselves, she always looked for possible viewers, his teammates. But based on her data, he only did things like that around 20% of the time when his teammates were actually watching. Meaning that the other 80% of the time he did the physical acts of affection, no one was around to watch.

While his English was practically perfect, he had the hardest time in social studies and history, so he got her help with his U.S. government class. He claimed that because he hadn’t lived here at all, and because he had Japanese citizenship that this class was completely useless for him. His defeatist attitude towards history made her roll her eyes at him.

One day, when she was intending to come over to help him, Emiko crossed her arms and leaned against the doorframe as he cleaned up his room. He threw his baseball socks and jersey into the dirty clothes hamper.

“She’s coming over then?”

He mumbled an affirmative answer.

Emiko got giddy, saying she’d make a good rich curry tonight for dinner and that he’d need to tell her to stay for dinner. He gave a wave and kept picking up his room.

When the doorbell rang, he ran to the door. Emiko chastened him and told him to calm down. He let her in, and she greeted his mom, giving Emiko the box of fruit her own mom told her to drop off. He complained in Japanese that she always went straight to his mom instead of greeting him first. Emiko in turn smiled at her while scolding her son again in Japanese.

Watching the conversation unfold, she shrugged, Japanese was just not her strong suit.

“How hard is it to understand a constitutional federal republic?” She looked over his essay answer to a prompt she had given him to practice for his upcoming test. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, chewing the end of a pen. She was leaning against his bed frame, reading papers and marking up his essay with her red pen. Each time she made another red mark, he grumbled. Of all the people she had tutored though, his handwriting was the best.

“Correct these things first, and then I can edit again with my orange pen.” She held up said pen while handing the paper back to him. He just mimicked what she had said, holding his own pen the same way she had held up hers, even going so far as to bring his shoulders upwards to make him appear smaller.

In response to the insulting imitation she grabbed her notebook and hit him repeatedly on the knee. He let out a pained ouch, and she felt bad, so she put the notebook away and just patted his knee instead.

“If you really loved me you’d just write out the whole essay and then I could just memorize it and cross apply the right parts for the actual prompt Mr. Henry gives in class next week.” Kenji adjusted his body position, and her hand wasn’t on his knee anymore but dead center of his thigh instead. He smirks, and she immediately retracts her hand.

“Good thing I don’t love you then.” Kenji presses his hand to his heart and sighs, falling back into his pillow. “Just do the essay Jiji.”

He lifted his head and repeated what she had said, “Jiji?”

“Kenji.” She says his name and enunciates the two syllables cleanly.

“I like Jiji, I think it suits me. It’s a cute nickname.”

He finished rewriting the essay while she poked around his room. Photos of him with his mom and dad, which she already knew not to ask about because last time she did he went total silence for two weeks. But then he felt guilty about ghosting and took her out to get a sweet treat everyday after school for one week straight. Trophies from his old school back in Japan for his baseball achievements. Multiple MVP awards from the games he had played here.

The other photos that were in his room were mostly of him and his teammates. He just didn’t look too happy in those ones, so she tried to skim them, but failed. His teammates did their best to make him seem like he was a part of the group, but it just didn’t click all the way. Kenji always looked too serious in the photos, or it seemed like he was actually looking at the baseball diamond instead of the person taking the photo.

There was an adorable little figure, made either of acrylic or vinyl, of a little superhero with a red and silver supersuit and a blue circle on the chest. She picked it up and inspected it. What she assumed was Kenji’s name was on the foot of the toy. She bent the arms of the toy and moved it around like it was flying midair.

Kenji had completely paused writing his essay in favor of watching her dart around his room. He clenched his jaw for a second when she picked up the Ultraman toy, then eased his body language when she started making the toy fly around. If only that’s what Ultraman really was, just a toy. Just a toy and not an impending responsibility to protect and serve the people of Japan from Kaiju monsters. He wondered if she’d ever want to live somewhere besides Los Angeles. Tokyo for example.

“Kenji! Curry! Get the applesauce from the cabinet please!” Emiko called out.

She set the toy down and turned around, but Kenji was already standing right behind her. He had only meant to watch her movements a little more closely, but now this was entirely too close. He played it off like he was adjusting the Ultraman doll, smiled and then opened his door for her to exit and head downstairs.

When he heard the steps trailing down, he silently screamed and raised his hands to the sides of his head. Then he dragged a hand down his face and carded fingers through his hair. He envied the self he saw in the photos, cool and nonchalant.

“So, are there any boys you think are cute at school?” Emiko ate another bite of katsu that was drenched in curry sauce.

She swallowed thickly for a second, “I- uh, no. There’s not many good options for dating material at a hyper-athletic school.” She laughed to cut the edge off the conversation.

Emiko drank some water, but then prodded a little more. Kenji wished the earth would open and swallow him up.

“Not even at a school full of athletes? I would’ve sworn there were some good options for you on Kenji’s baseball team. What was his name? Eric? Eli?”

“Ohh, Ezra Johnson?” She supplied, eating some applesauce and then tapping her mouth with a napkin.

Kenji looked to her, then to his mom, then back at her. He was trying to stuff his face with his food so he could exit the conversation and then drag her and himself back to his room. She seemed insistent on blocking out the whole fake dating thing from his mom’s view and perception.

“Yes! He’s a really nice kid! He actually greeted me when I went to the first game. It was so sweet of him. His mom and I got to know each other a little bit. I can send you his details if you want?” Emiko grazed the back of her phone.

“No!” Kenji burst. His mom and his fake girlfriend both looked at him. “Uh, Ezra is talking to this girl named, um, Claire. Yeah, Claire.” He held his plate up and his mom nodded.

Rinsing his plate off he put it into the dishwasher, then from behind his mom’s back he tried mouthing to her so they could go back upstairs but she was too busy still talking to his mom to notice anything.

When she finally finished eating, she said she needed to go back home.

“What about my essay though?” Kenji rested his forearms on the kitchen counter while she was busy doing the dishes despite having to gently fight with Emiko about letting her even do the dishes in the first place.

“I gave you enough content to work with, just do the corrections and you’ll be good to go.” She bumped the dishwasher with her hip to close it, and he wondered what her bumping into him would feel like. And then he groveled a little that he wanted to be a dishwasher for even a split second. “I need to do my own homework now, tell your mom thank you again for me, okay?”

She rubbed his arm to comfort him slightly, but he took his chance to reach to her hip, tugging her lightly into him.

“What are you doing?” She hissed at him, trying to keep her voice down in case Emiko was still lurking around.

“Saying thanks for the help, goodbye, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grabbed the hand that she had on his arm and held her hand for a second, then brought it up to his mouth to press a light kiss to her knuckles.

She smiled, then pushed his shoulder.

When she had left the house, he flung himself onto the couch and giggled a little. Kicking his feet that were dangling over the arm of the couch. His mom peeked downstairs to see Kenji wriggling around and muttering. She just laughed a little. Maybe her instigation had worked out in the end.

The next week, she was hounded by baseball players after school.

She kept holding up a hand to cover her face, but they would not relent. Asking questions about her and Kenji. What Kenji was like outside of school, outside of baseball. If Kenji ever stopped being serious and aloof for even a minute. At this point they were just crowding her and not giving her the space to breathe.

She kept giving short curt answers, tugging her backpack straps closer and closer to her. At one point, one of them stepped on her foot and she winced a little.

It was like some kind of sonar sensor, Kenji could tell something was wrong. When he turned the corner, all he could see was his girl getting cornered by a bunch of idiots who didn’t even have his best interest at heart. The only reason why he asked her to fake date him was so that he could get out of dates with the girls his teammates had thought would suit him. The secondary reason was so she could avoid his teammates entirely. But clearly, the second reason did not go as planned because his teammates were a bunch of no-brainers who didn’t even really care about baseball.

“Hey, let’s go, I’ll drive you home today.” Kenji stuck his hand in between two of his teammates, and she grabbed it, so he was able to pull her out from the crowd they had made around her.

He strung two fingers around her jean belt loop and guided her to his car. When they finally sat down, and Kenji had started the engine, she let out a shaky breath. He put his hand behind her seat, and then moved his hand so he could lightly touch the back of her neck at her nape.

“Are you okay? I had no idea they would do something like that, I mean, it’s just completely ridiculous. I don’t even talk to them that much, if at all. And they treat me like some kind of foreigner, which I may be yeah, but really come on. That’s just herd mentality to the max. Ridiculous behavior, so childish.” Kenji kept talking while driving, she thought that maybe he needed a chance to really unload everything and mitigate the tension that had built up around him.

When they got to her house, he apologized again. And again.

“Don’t let it eat you alive, it’s all good, no harm no foul, if it makes you feel better, they totally reeked of body odor.” She chimed in after he finished his long wind of apologies. “And, um, what time is your game on Wednesday? My mom asked, she wants to hang out with your mom.”

“And here I thought you just wanted to see me completely kill the opposing team.” Kenji tried to lean out of the car just a little more, but his seatbelt kept him from getting his head out of the passenger side window. “I’ll text you. Get to your house safe ok?”

To her house from the car was approximately seven steps. The smile she gave him wrinkled her eyes and creased her nose just perfectly. He slid his hands up and down the wheel, smiling to himself as he started home.

The game went perfectly, he stole practically all the bases, and he made two home run hits. And an LA Dodgers scout was there. Once he got the documents and the scout shaked his hand, he was over the moon excited to play for the best team in the United States.

When he saw her with her mom and his mom, he just couldn’t hold himself back. In a second, he was hugging her and ranting about the scout continuously just repeating the experience over and over. Since his mom knew she would have a hard time prying Kenji off of his best friend, she just had to listen in to what he was saying, and she clapped when she had finally heard it all, celebrating from just far enough away to let them enjoy the moment.

His graduation was boring, she sat with his mom in the stands waiting for him to get his name called out. There were a lot of speeches, and she recognized the valedictorian from various library encounters, but for the most part everyone was a stranger to her. Emiko kept getting a call from an international number, but she didn’t try to ask about it.

Kenji barrelled through the crowd of graduates to get to his people, his mom and his best friend. When he started to talk about what he was going to do over the summer, his baseball camps and training, getting to meet the members of his team. His mom put a gentle hand to his shoulder, and he furrowed his eyebrows at the serious environment his mom had suddenly crafted. She backed away a little, but Kenji grabbed her hand and shook his head, telling her to stay for whatever his mom had to say.

“Kenji, your dad, he’s, your dad wants to talk to you. He’s, he’s on the phone.” Emiko couldn’t help but stutter a little, unnerved with how Kenji would react.

Kenji shook his head no, pulling her closer to him trying to use her as a crutch to prevent an interaction with his father from occurring. She looked between Kenji and his mother for a moment. Emiko with her tightened face and hand gripping the phone tightly said more than what her original request was saying. Emiko wanted Kenji to answer the call. So, she in turn encouraged him to answer it.

“Jiji, just answer the call. It’s your dad.” He felt betrayed.

“I’m not picking up the phone, I’m not talking to dad, and I’m getting a ride with a friend.” He pulls his hand away, despite missing her touch, and leaves his mom and her standing and stunned from his reaction.

Emiko pulled her into a side hug. “Thanks for backing me, you’re much more mature than I think people give you credit for. I have udon at home, call your mom and let’s have a girls night. I don’t think he’ll be home for a while. I’ll let him blow off steam today, but don’t think I’m soft on him, he’ll have some hell to pay when I catch him tomorrow.”

Patting the back of her head, Emiko went to the small electric van. She stood for a second, thinking about the space Kenji had just occupied. Maybe the family dynamic in the Sato household was more complex than she had anticipated, Emiko seemed to still love her husband despite them being separated. Kenji seemed adverse to and angry with his father, but Emiko didn’t carry any slight of resentment.

Girls night was a blast, including face masks and bad romance movies. Kenji got back around midnight, just as her mom and her were leaving his house. When she left, he was the one who closed the door after her. He gave a short pained smile and a wave. In her mind, it was a win because at least he wasn’t upset with her for taking Emiko’s side.

Summer was hot and burned the apples of her cheeks, leaving both sunburns and memories in it’s fragmented state. Kenji was busy conditioning for baseball practically everyday. Somedays he’d invite her out just to watch him play, so she could sip some icy lemonade and sit in the shade instead of being cooped in her house doing whatever it is that homebodies do.

It would be deceiving to say that she didn’t enjoy just watching him play. The way his baseball jersey would bunch at his elbows and shoulders when he hit the ball. Or the way he would run the bases each time he missed a throw from the ball machine. He still needed to get a haircut, so his bangs would completely cover most of his face, until he ran a hand through his sweaty hair and his almost snake-like eyes would study her from afar.

The best part was when he told her to move her legs a little, so he could sit on the row of bleachers in front of her. Eventually positioning himself to settle in between her legs, resting his arms on her thighs and his head was leaning on her torso. Although his sweat would lightly mark up her shirts when his hair dripped from his practice rounds, she still loved to be there for him in this capacity.

Either he was here with her or he would be at the diamond alone and angry. When he came alone, he would throw his bat when he made a mistake instead of just brushing it off and doing a lap. Somehow, doing baseball training alone while waiting for official LA Dodgers’ orders made him all pent up and out of control. So when she came to observe, it felt like he had more things in his control, his ability to manage.

“How are you gonna survive without me next year?” Kenji rolled his shoulders before getting his water bottle and guzzling down the IV infused liquid.

“Well, as far as everyone knows, we’re still dating, so I’ll have another year of free solo-ing the romance world at a hormone ridden cesspool.” She slid her backpack on, ready to start the trek home.

Kenji slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, then quickly switched which shoulder his bag was on once he saw which side she let her bag rest on, so that their bags wouldn’t bump into each other as he walked her home.

“You’re not gonna tell people we ended it?” Kenji sucked in some air through his teeth, readjusting the bag’s weight placement a little.

“Nah, it’s just easier that way. At graduation though if anyone asks how we’re doing I’ll say you found a supermodel that preys on greenie Pro-Baseball players.”

He nods, accepting the route she was going in order to terminalize their fake relationship.

“I was a good boyfriend though, right?” Maybe he asked so that he could feel out the possibility of a real one, or seeing what he could do better when he finally worked up enough courage to ask her out for real and for forever. For now though, he knew that friendship would satiate most of his yearning for her time and attention.

“Comparatively, to what I heard other girls went through, you were practically a saint. I mean, you never did press me into a couch so we could make out. Ruby held that over my head for the whole year once her girlfriend did that to her.”

“That doesn’t sound too bad actually,” Kenji stroked his chin, “One last boyfriend duty for me to do before I get too busy, ya know?”

“Kiss me without permission and you're a dead baseball boy.” He held up his hands defensively.

“That was one time.”

“In the middle of the library, in front of a good majority of my friends, right after I had been begged to be a fake girlfriend.”

Kenji raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head, “I do not recall begging.”

“You definitely begged,” She clasped her hands together and turned towards him, pausing their pace on the sidewalk for her to parody him, “Pretty please.”

She fluttered her eyelashes and pouted dramatically.

He rolled his eyes and tugged her hands so she would keep walking.

The postseason began around October for Kenji, and he made his official debut into the stage of professional baseball. Around the fifth game he played, he snapped. And that’s why he was sitting on her bathroom counter holding a bag of peas to the side of his face, while she dug through the closet just outside the bathroom looking for a first aid kit.

The catcher had just stepped out of line according to Kenji, messing up his at bat routine with his comments about his age, his inexperience, his lack of genuine talent. The first punch was Kenji’s, the second punch was the catcher’s and it rocked Kenji immediately.

Tasting the metallic blood in his mouth, he was just glad all his teeth were okay. He did feel bad for going to her instead of going home. But he knew that his mom would’ve killed him for hitting another player. The only reason why his mom wasn’t at this specific game was because she had some research files from years ago that his father needed, so she was spending the time trying to transfer data from floppy disks to USB drives.

She should’ve been asleep, or studying for her upcoming exams. He felt like an inconvenience and like a child who was being coddled, but he did feel like he was being fawned over by her which he could live with. Even the way she had reacted to him texting her and asking if she could help patch him up a little. She had sent nearly thirty messages, mostly angry, but also laced with worry.

“This might sting a little.” She reached up and pressed a cloth to his lip. He lurched away from the disinfectant, and she almost fell over due to having to reach up to get to his face.

“Hold on, give me a second.” Kenji got off the counter regardless of her complaints, she stopped complaining and was silenced once he swapped their positions, her sitting on the counter and him in front of her with his hands on either side of her hips, placed on the edge of the counter. “Better.”

She hummed a little, pressing the cloth to his face again, he tried to not lurch away this time. She put some triple antibiotic ointment on his lip and temple where there were some cuts. Putting some small star shaped bandages on his face where the cuts were biggest.

“All done!” She put her hands on his shoulders and gave a big smile.

Maybe he leaned in, maybe he didn’t. But their lips were definitely touching. When she pushed him away he realized he must have made a fatal error. So he decided to play it off.

“Sorry, a little faint from the fight earlier, not in my right mind.”

“Yeah, you, uh, you were just trying to, yeah.” She chewed the inside of her mouth.

Kenji helped her off the counter, and walked to her front door, ready to head out.

Holding onto the door, she stuck her head out and commented to him before he got too far away from hearing distance, “No more fights okay?”

He threw her a thumbs up before leaving her house. When he was safely back in his car, he did something that was all too familiar when he slipped up around her, he silently screamed and gripped his hair.

Years went by.

They stayed close, and he made sure of that. Baseball was going great, but no championships under his belt. She had graduated college, working at an office as an assistant. She moved out of her family home and got a shared apartment with some college friends who also worked in the main part of Los Angeles

Then, his dad hurt his leg, and everything went to hell. Hayao had called, telling Kenji it was finally time to take the name of Ultraman. He now needed to bear the gauntlet, the responsibility of keeping his home country safe. His mom just agreed, putting her hands on Kenji’s knee. Telling Kenji it was finally time for him to go home and be who he was supposed to be. And he was supposed to be Ultraman?

Baseball was his thing, he knew baseball and he was good at it too. Baseball felt like home, LA felt like his home, she felt like his home.

On top of all that, within a week of his father’s request and his mother’s urging, his mother had an accident. He had no idea what happened. Just that one day, Emiko was there and then she wasn’t.

He was depressed, and so he drank. His house was a mess. Dirty dishes piled up in the sink, he was wearing the same clothes from four days ago. His toothbrush had become unfamiliar. He didn’t bother turning on the lights, staying in the dark and sulking.

When her mom found out about Emiko’s disappearance and presumed death, she called her daughter and told her to check in on Kenji. He had been distant lately, and she knew that the distance was a result of his grief. Her stomach twisted into knots, and she realized she hadn’t reached out to him in a few weeks.

His front door was locked, she had a basket of fruit and a stack of tupperwares filled with lunches and dinners for an entire week. She tried to think about what food were both comforting and had a lot of protein, so she made a variety of pasta dishes with extra meat.

“Kenji?” She knocked repeatedly, checking her phone only to see that her messages had been left on read. She called out for him again, knocking harder. “I know you’re in there Jiji.”

Opening the door made her grasp the gravity of the situation he was in. His hair was covering his face, he seemed to have recoiled into himself, wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt instead of his typical jeans and jersey thrown over a solid color tee. He smelled too, not of his usual mintiness and clean linen, but of all and any sort of alcohol. With eye bags darker than dirt, and hollow looking features, he just left the door open as he lurked back into his blacked out house.

Setting her gifts on his kitchen counter, she turned on the lights, and got to work. First the dishes, and then she picked up all the clothing and started a load of laundry. She made him a plate of the food she had brought, and a big glass of water and some Advil for the inevitable hangover he would have.

Lying on the couch, Kenji played with the hem of his sweatshirt. He tried to take another sip straight from a bottle of red wine when she stole it out of his hands. Whining, he told her to give it back and turn the lights off. She clicked her tongue.

“Eat this,” she handed him the plate, “Drink this,” she sat the water and pill on the coffee table. She tapped her foot, her arms folded in front of her chest. He groaned but did as told.

Satisfied with his actions, she dragged him upstairs and told him to take a shower. Hearing the water running, she looked around his room and cleaned it up. His passport, along with a one way ticket to Tokyo for one month out, was on the floor, covered by blankets that were strewn around. Opened letters were lying on the floor as well, pictures and clippings of ‘Kaiju’ attacks in Japan. Maybe she needed to brush up on her international news instead of staying in her little bubble.

Coming out of the shower with baggy clothes on, he dried his hair with a small towel.

“What are you doing?” He saw her holding the letters his dad had sent. He reached out for them, but she held them back and to her chest.

“What are Kaiju?”

Soon, he was sitting on his bed with her as well. He had the Ultraman doll in his left hand and a stuffed animal that she had given him some years ago in his right hand.

“Basically, I’m this, by blood,” He shook the Ultraman doll, “And I’m supposed to fight these back home. Since my father can’t anymore.” Laughing slightly, he slammed Ultraman into the stuffie repeatedly.

Her eyes were wide. She may not have understood everything about what he was, or what he was supposed to be doing, but she knew it was important to him to some degree. It was irrelevant that his dad needed him, the only thing he cared about was that his mom had asked him to take the step to become something he wasn’t sure of.

But the idea that her best friend was going to be a superhero? That he could change into some kind of robotic monster slayer? She had to disconnect a little from reality just to process the whole thing.

Suddenly, he thought of something that could possibly get him out of his funk. Something that could make his time in Tokyo, living an entirely new life bearable.

“There’s some extra rooms at the place I’ll be living in. I know that you want to go to some kind of graduate school. There are really good graduate schools in Tokyo.” He scratched the back of his head, if she said yes, then he would be truly mortified that she had seen him like this but he would also get to have neverending time with her on a day to day basis if she agreed.

“I remember none of the Japanese you taught me, I’d need to get a visa,” She started listing off all the things that would keep her from leaving, “But, uh, I think I’ll go with you. Yes.”

“I can handle the visa thing, you’re just going to need to sign some papers and have an interview with some people, and you’ll need to wear a ring on your ring finger. As for the Japanese, I’m a better teacher now than when I was 18.”

Getting married was not on her bucket list, but at least she could get better tuition at her graduate school for technically being a form of naturalized Japanese national. Her mom was glad to see her living away from LA, and she was grateful for Kenji going with her daughter. Her mom just didn’t know about the marriage for a green card/visa situation, and honestly, she didn’t plan on telling her mom.

The whole flight to Tokyo she was practicing her Japanese with Kenji. For the first time in a long time, he was actually happy. Not ready for the whole Ultraman thing, but ready at least to leave home and be out of LA. Los Angeles reminded him of his mother, every street sign, every restaurant, the greenery and flowers, it all came back to his mom.

What he had explained to her as the Ultrabase wasn’t just some place that he was staying at, it was a literal industrial modern masterpiece of a mansion. The sleek design ebbed and flowed into the molding of the island it resided on. Ceilings higher than a museum’s, she traced her finger along every surface trying to soak in the elitism of it all. He reclined himself on the ginormous couch, watching her observe the surroundings.

To him, she was the best feature of the homebase. Where most things were cold and stricken with a detrimental weight of his responsibility, she was like a beam of no expectations. She gave him the space to just exist without pressure. That and she was always fighting with his robot assistant MINA which also made each time returning back from fighting a little easier to endure.

“Listen MINA, I just think that you’d be more effective if you were pink, also can you pass me my pencil case.” She was sitting at the kitchen table, snacking on candy and working on an assignment from one of her professors on her Master’s Committee. MINA used an extended robot hand to fly over the pencil case that had been in her backpack.

“If I was pink, it would detract from my integrated design.” MINA floats around her head, observing her completed work thus far. “Your work is completely correct, why are you changing the grammatical structure?”

“For the love of the process MINA, for the love of the process.”

Kenji just ate another bite of his New York Strip, enjoying the free entertainment. When he finished his meal, he asked if she wanted to go out for an adventure.

Matching helmets, black and gold design with her wearing one of his extra leather jackets just in case. For safety he justified. The cool Tokyo air felt even colder as they rushed around the streets, lane splitting and cutting in between cars. The headphones had built in bluetooth so they were listening to a shared playlist they had made. Blending rap, RNB, pop, and EDM crafted the right ambiance needed for a late night drive.

In some ways, Tokyo was similar to LA. She reasoned that it might have been the lights to a certain degree, but here, the lights were brighter and bolder. Neon signs and air pollution were the common denominators between the two cities.

He takes a corner just a little too hard, and she instinctively tightens her arms around his waist, tucking her head a little closer to his shoulder.

They end up taking a break for a minute, pulling off the side of the road to grab some vending machine drinks. Tea for her, coffee for him.

That’s when his watch begins to blare red. She fidgets with the ring on her hand, she didn’t need to wear it around he told her, but the cool diamond gem had grown on her. Just as a precaution if the case workers came around to check on their ‘marriage’, that was the explanation she gave to him for why she always had her ring on. They never talked about why he always kept his on too, despite interviews asking and continuously pestering him about the ring. The baseball world had just concluded it was either a secret wife or for the style since he never gave an answer.

“I think you have to go do your whole superman thing.” She pointed at his watch that he was trying to ignore.

Kenji groaned a little, calling for a ride so she could get back to his place. MINA had already gotten to them by the time the watch had started to blare.

“Ken, it is time to mitigate the primary conflict in Shinjuku.” MINA did a bow with their robot body. She tried to throw a pebble at MINA to test for reaction time, that being said MINA caught the rock. She shrugged.

Back at the dungeon, also known as the Ultrabase much to her distaste for a name like that, she was surprised to see an elderly man with a crutch sitting on the couch in the central living room.

He was watching a big hologram screen, which now clearly looked like Kenji (in Ultraman form) fighting with a pink monster dragon thing. When he got a particularly nasty body slam she sucked in some air through her teeth.

“Ahh, hello strange girl in the Ultraman base.” He circled her for a moment, his crutch slowing down his assessment of her.

“Ahh, hi strange grandpa in the Ultraman base.” She waved, and the older gentleman introduced himself as Professor Sato.

“Kenji’s dad?” She checked.

“Yes, I’m his father.” She nods, getting a glass of water.

When Kenji gets back to the base, that’s when things get a little crazy. What was once a slimy egg turned into a cute komodo dragon mutant baby. She was all over the baby in an instant, trying to get to know it better.

“She’s adorable. I love her.” She was tapping the glass of the containment cylinder, cooing at the infant Kaiju. The baby seemed to respond positively, making little coos back and stomping around a little.

Kenji just folded his arms and took it all in. He was still trying to get rid of his dad, despite his father’s willingness to help out. He just couldn’t balance it all without Hayao’s help, he realized. Especially when Emi needed more assistance, and help avoiding the KDF’s insistent attacks. She loved Emi, despite the Kaiju having the ability to totally crush her, Emi reciprocated quickly to her. Considering the contrast in how long it took for Kenji to demonstrate that his Ultaman form and his regular self were the same through systematic desensitization.

They became a family, even if a family consisted of a pro-baseball player, his fake wife/best friend, an estranged but loving father, a Kaiju baby, and a robot assistant.

A learning curve consisted of a lot more mistakes and complaining, but at the end of it all, Kenji had to commit. He was Ultraman now. He needed to protect Tokyo. At least now he had a support system he could rely on. Slowly, changes occurred with him. Putting others before himself, really truly thinking about life and the value of other human beings. The catalyst was a Kaiju baby named Emi, especially the way that said Kaiju baby loved openly.

The misadventures of raising Emi were wild and laced with KDF fights, but in the end, Kenji and his dad were brought together by defending Kaiju in a unique way. The monsters weren’t intentionally villains, humans had just made them out to be like that. That’s life though, people defining and categorizing things into concepts and schemas that made sense to them.

That’s what his dad was doing when he and Emiko separated. Hayao was trying to find ways to open human eyes to the world and beauty of Kaiju. Living in tandem with them may not have been immediately possible but why shouldn’t it be ever given a chance? Professor Sato, his dad, wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, he was trying his best to make the world a little bit better. Forgiving a father who he once believed left him wasn’t an easy road, but it was a path that needed to be traveled.

Saying goodbye to Emi was rough, yet, the Kaiju Island was close enough to go and visit on occasion. Baseball was great, winning the championship and going into a post-season diffusement.

Yet, Kaiju still came and wreaked havoc, and Kenji still had to fight and protect Japan. Even if that meant coming back to the base bloodied and bruised. She was almost always there, wrapping his arms in white bandages and wiping off blood with towels. Running ice baths and making cold soba noodles.

Which is what she was doing at this moment, rinsing the noodles in ice water and stirring a sweet sauce for Kenji to pour over rather than dunk his noodles into.

He was resting a frozen water bottle on his shoulder, hoping it would numb the pain, the Kaiju just had to try and rip his good arm off didn’t it?

“Hey, can I come in? Got your soba.” She knocked on the bathroom door using her elbow, since both hands were carrying bowls of soba with sauce containers precariously resting on her lower palms.

“Yeah, I’m wearing swim trunks.”

“Good because I’m not ready to see you naked, like, ever.” She chuckled, but pulled a chair next to the ceramic tub, breaking her chopsticks and saying a quick itadakimasu. He copied her, immediately drowning his noodles in the sauce she set on the edge of the tub. She rolled her eyes at his action.

He laughed a little, ignoring the pain in his shoulder, “What, it tastes better like this.”

She hummed an affirmative sound, but her eyes glinted with an agree to disagree conclusion.

The noodles had been fully digested, but she was still there, dipping her fingers into the water and making small swirls. The frigid temperature makes her fingers feel detached from her body.

Kenji lowers himself in the tub for a moment, getting his hair wet. When he came back up, she was pushing his bangs away from his face, smiling. Her hand stayed in his hair, brushing the strands away from his face as they dropped droplets down the back of his neck and then into the tub again. The ice cubes bumped into each other, melting slowly but steadily.

He ran his tongue over his teeth, uttering a few words, “Hot tub?”

She nods and heads out of the bathroom to get a swimsuit on.

The pool on the second to bottom floor of the base had an attached hot tub. He turned on the low lights, leaving the space in a warm brown shade of yellow light. The glass wall gave an outlook over the city and the ocean that surrounded the base.

MINA zoomed into the pool area, “Shall I put on some smooth jazz Ken?”

“No. Do not do that.” Kenji waved off MINA with red stinging his ears. MINA states they were just trying to speed up the whole process, and quoted one of her favorite phrases adding an addendum of MINA’s understanding and AI learning, “For the love of the process, especially if it's about love.”

The hot tub was warm, not quite boiling, but warm. She rested her arms on the outside ledge of the tub, looking out through the window. Kenji came to her side and replicated how she was positioned, before remembering that his shoulder hurt and gave out a small sound of displeasure. She giggled a little, rubbing the back of his shoulder where there weren't any distinct injuries.

“You’ve changed a lot since we were in high school.” She closed her eyes and dropped her head so that it was on her crossed arms.

“That’s what happens with time.” He wants to ask why she brought up his self-improvement. But she cuts him off before any words settle in his mouth.

“Yeah, but you’ve made a lot of great changes. You’re actually friends with your teammates now. And you’ve taken on this whole responsibility for an entire country. You aren’t just Kenji Sato, you’re also Ken Sato, and Ultraman, and I like to think you’ve fully embraced your father again, and not to mention our friendship.” She looks up at the ceiling, “You’re like an actual adult now.”

“I’ve been an adult for way longer than you.”

“But not like this, like an actual responsible person. You can juggle everything now.”

She sniffles a little, “Which is why I can understand if you don’t want me to stay once I finish my program you know?”

Kenji grabs a hold of one of her hands, “What the hell? Why would you ever think I’d want to kick you out?”

She shrugs.

He continues, “I hate to say it, but I think you’re stuck with me. You know too much about my dark secrets.” She smirks in response to his teasing tone.

Kenji dives deeper into things he wished he would’ve said earlier.

“I mean, you already have the ring to prove it too.” Her mouth gapes open a little, raising an eyebrow.

It would be amiss to say that this wouldn’t alter everything, but it was time.

“I know that we’ve only ever been friends, but you need to know what I feel.”

“I think I already know.” She cups the side of his face, and he pulls her into him, and makes her face him. She’s sitting on the expanse of his thighs, and he looks up at her from how he’s leaning back onto the wall of the hot tub.

Wrapping arms around his neck, careful to not rest too much of her arm on his shoulder, she brings their noses to brush against each other.

“Mine now? Right? You’re mine now?” When she doesn’t respond he continues, “Pretty please? Mine?”

“I thought you said you never begged?” She grazes his lips with her own and he sighs with a light shudder in his chest.

“I’ll beg for this, for you.”

“Fair enough.”

He tightens his grip and pulls her flush to him. Angling his neck up and tilting his head, he kisses her. She smiles too much for it to be a proper kiss, but he keeps pressing against her mouth. When she stops smiling and starts responding with her own pressure of lips to lips, he has to suppress the hunger to bite her.

His tongue brushes against her bottom lip and she opens her mouth for him, he runs his tongue along the inner lining of her mouth before biting on the tip of her tongue when she tries to take her turn. He chuckles when she pulls back a little, nose crinkled and lips wet.

“C’mere.” He trails kisses down the side of her face, going to her neck and collarbones, glad that her swimsuit was low cut enough for him to graze the top of her chest, where the rise of her curves began. She just presses kisses to the top of his head while her hand tangles into the hair at his nape, twisting the locks into fake curls.

When their fingers were wrinkled from the water in the hot tub, they showered and curled up on his bed, watching a meaningless show.

“So, my thoughts are that we can just skip the dating thing and go straight to marriage since legally we already are.”

“My mom will kill me.”

“Good thing she loves me, just say we eloped.” He wraps his good arm around her and pulls her down to lay on the pillows. She snuggles into the silk blend pillow cases and murmurs a little, tired from a long day. He caresses the side of her face and rests his hand on her hip.

MINA flits around the base, erasing specific footage from the recordings in the pool room, for everyone’s benefit.

Kenji paced back and forth in the base, waiting for her to get back from babysitting Chiho, hoping that Ami’s date would end shockingly early for his benefit.

He’s still on the phone with her, “I don’t want to wait to see you.” He kicks a throw pillow that had fallen on the ground from the couch.

“Have patience, I’ll be back around one AM.”

“This is spousal abuse.”

“It really isn’t”

MINA chimed in and agreed with her, so she exclaimed and said that even a robot knows the truth that Kenji was just a little clingy.

“I think you should stop watching other people’s babies and come take care of your family. And by family, I mean me.”

“I know what you meant.”

He looks to the clock, three more hours of waiting would be excruciating. But at least she’d be back in time for him to wish her an extremely early happy anniversary with the new ring he got.

[coryosbaby]

i saw that you wrote for donnie darko a while ago and since i’m currently fixating on him i present a very intriguing concept: stepbro!donnie.

i feel like he’d love the taboo aspects of it and would have no trouble justifying it to himself bc it’s not like you’re related.

18+, MDNI !! stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), suggestive content , kissing

No cs he literally would. In the movie he’s all about “I don’t want to fuck my family, that’s weird.” But with you, he doesn’t even view you as family— not really, anyway. Sure, your parents are together but at the end of the day there’s no blood relation, right? It’s not normal to daydream about tit fucking your sister, either, so— yeah. Definitely doesn’t view you as a relative.

He’s a total horn dog. I can imagine him making a move on you for the first time when you’re both watching a movie— some dumbass sex scene comes on and suddenly his dick is springing up and he’s subtly placing a pillow across his lap. He watches your concentration on the screen, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

“Why do they always decide to fuck in these movies?” You question. You say this because you’re both watching some random slasher with an unnecessary amount of girl on boy sex scenes. “There’s like, a killer on the loose. How stupid can you be?”

He shrugs. His hand moves to the bulge in his pants.

“Spur of the moment, I guess,” he replies. “Can’t really control it once it starts.”

“And what would you know about the art of intimacy?”

It’s a joke, an innocent little jab that usually has Donnie firing back with something like, “you’re one to talk,” and then making a joke about your empty dating history— but he doesn’t do that this time. No, you’re too pretty. He’s too horny. He needs to break the ice before he lands hard on his ass and doesn’t get back up.

“Wanna find out?”

Your pupils dilate, eyes a bit wide and freaked out when you hear the (incredibly impulsive) words spill from your stepbrother’s lips. But also— and only Donnie would notice this, seeing you all the time and all, and not because he thinks about you every waking moment— you seem to be intrigued. Your eyes scan over his body and move back up to his face.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” You tease, and let out a nervous chuckle. “You wish. I’d never fuck your virgin ass.”

“How’dya know if you’ve never tried it?” And he gives you that shit eating grin when he’s really amused, the one that makes your stomach do flips. “You could kiss me instead, then. See if you like it.”

“I’m not kissing my brother.”

“Stepbrother,” he corrects. His legs spread apart, almost like an invite. You pretend not to notice. “C’mon, kid. don’t be a pussy.”

He calls you kid even though you���re only one month younger than him. He does this because he knows it irks you. You roll your eyes, licking your plump bottom lip.

“Whatever,” you mumble, then you groan. “Come here, then. But if you slip me tongue, Darko, I swear to god I’ll tell your English professor that you cheated on your exams last year.”

He begins scooting closer, his jean clad thigh pressing against your bare one, and he seems very giddy.

“Won’t give you tongue,” he replies. “I swear it on my life.”

You give an annoyed hum. Donnie’s arm goes behind you on the back of couch, and you can smell his cologne and the dial soap he uses in the shower. When neither of you makes a move— an awkward stare into each other’s eyes, faces a few inches apart, Donnie’s eyes filling with something you can’t quite make out— you utter, “Well, are you going to do it or not?”

Instead of replying, he just.. goes for it. He presses his mouth to yours in a smooth peck. But fuck, he’s so hard, and he’s wanted this for so long. He goes back in for another, mouth opened slightly, awkward. Virginal. The two of you kiss like this because that’s exactly what the both of you are— virgins. When you pull away from him, his lashes flutter open and he grins again. You want to kiss him some more— maybe his tongue in your mouth wouldn’t be so bad. But you hold back, eyes blinking.

“This is really fuckin’ weird, Donnie.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz

[billlydear]

SUPERNOVA - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART ONE)

word count: 3135 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: max's english tutor has a black eye and a shitty alibi. billy sees right through it.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending, mentions of abuse, injuries mentioned (black eye), reader is abused by her mother just like billy is by his father

A/N: thank you for 300 followers!!! have this as a little gift from me to you <3 basic biology part three is in the works, don't worry! i just wrote this in a fit of sleep deprived passion the other night after thinking about it for a week or so and i wanted to share :) i hope you enjoy! the ending of this is pretty straightforward and, though i plan to write more parts, this can be read on its own for now.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

There’s never a good reason for Max to stomp into Billy’s room. It’s always either her demanding a ride somewhere, asking for money, or shouting at him to turn his music down. This time, though, there’s no music playing, and it’s nearing 11:00 PM, so he’s not sure why she’d need money or a ride.

He glances up at her, really more of a glare, through his eyelashes, reclined against the wall as he lounges on his bed. He’s got a magazine in hand and the pages are as boring as the cover was, but he’d rather stare at faded jet ski advertisements than read the book he’s supposed to be working on for English.

She stops just inside the doorway, jacket on and shoes laced. He narrows his eyes at her, something of a question, and she sounds just as venomous as he looks when she replies.

“I need to borrow your window.” She mutters, piercing eyes set on him.

He’s heard her say a lot of weird things since they started living together. Mom, I can’t find my left rollerskate, Why is my bra in the freezer?, and We’re not going in the theater, we’re going to sit outside and talk, have previously topped the list but this is off the charts.

“Sure, Max,” He drawls, fingers tightening against the waxy magazine paper, “Just haul it back in here when you’re done, okay?”

“You know what I mean,” She huffs, already lunging for his bed. She practically topples him in her overzealous attempt to reach the window, and he shoots a hand out to steady himself as the mattress rocks. He has half a mind to kick her onto the floor but he watches her click a flashlight open from her jacket pocket, and stares with suspicious intrigue instead.

“Come on, come on,” She huffs, clicking the light on, off, on, off, “Where is she?”

“Who?” Billy leans forwards, peering out the window into the blackened neighborhood, “Jesus, Max, don’t go shining lights into people’s windows at night, they’ll think you’re some creep trying to watch them change.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you know that from experience,” She grumbles, shoving his hand away when he tries grabbing the light.

“I’m not kidding,” Billy seethes, muscled arm coming to combat her defenses, nearly shoving her off of the end of the bed, “What are you even trying to do, anyways?”

“I’m trying to talk to my tutor,” She snaps, landing a sharp slap to his thigh that reddens the skin there, “Butt out, butthead.”

“Assface,” Billy grumbles, rubbing at the tender spot on his leg with half a mind to whack her upside the head. She ignores him completely, desperately flicking the light at a ground floor window.

“Do you really need tutoring help now?” Billy groans, the incessant clicking preventing him from what was supposed to be his before-bed relaxation.

“She wasn’t at school today,” Max explains in a huff, “Or- like, she didn’t show up at my school. She called this morning to say she was sick, but she sounded fine, and I heard someone in the parking lot say that they saw her outside her house, just sitting there, like, really late last night.”

“So she was getting some fresh air,” Billy deadpans, “Now get out of my room.”

“Would it kill you to cooperate?” Max turns to him with such a judgemental stare that Billy’s surprised he doesn’t wither away right on the spot. Hell hath no fury like a teenage girl scorned, he thinks, annoyance bubbling in his chest.

“She’s obviously not coming,” Billy reasons, his patience wearing thin after almost two minutes of flashlight nonsense, “She’s probably sleeping. She’s got the flu or something, and you’re gonna wake her up and make her even more sick. Just leave her alone, and leave me alone.”

“I’m not asking you to be a part of this!” She gushes, jaw set in a hard frown and eyes rolling when he props his elbow up on the windowsill, cheek smushed into a bored expression against his palm.

“I just want to see if she’s okay, because she doesn’t normally get sick, and I haven’t seen her window open all day, and I really think that something might be wrong, so-”

After a staggering two minutes and forty-six seconds of morse code from hell, your curtains part. Max practically lights up at the sliver of light that appears between the drapes, but when your face pops between it, her breath hitches in a gasp.

Your eye is bruised. It’s swollen shut and purple, an ugly stain that blooms down your cheek, like a rose that sticks its thorns straight into Billy’s chest. His posture, previously saggy and bored, stiffens until he’s nearly pressed against the glass, brows furrowed in horror as his lips part ever-so-slightly.

“Oh my god,” Max breathes, and you regard them both with a weary gaze.

Max lifts the lower half of Billy’s window, slipping out the gap with such agility and speed that Billy doesn’t have a chance to try to stop her before she’s already outside. He rushes to follow her, cringing as his bare feet land in damp piles of leaves.

“What happened to you?” Max runs to your window, bracing her hands on the sill.

“Nothing,” You try to smile, and it pulls at the skin around your eye, finishing the expression off with a wince, “I just- it’s silly, okay? I slipped and fell on the ice out front and I hit the stair rail on the way down. I was too embarrassed to go to school, ‘cause I knew everyone would ask, so I just called out sick. I’m sorry, Max, I know today was our day, but I’ll do double time once this heals.”

The more you ramble, the quicker you spew your pre-determined speech, the more the thorns lodge themselves in Billy’s gut. It’s familiar behavior, having an outlandish excuse at your disposal, reciting it like poetry, blaming the bruises on a misstep down the stairs rather than a rage-fueled fist. He’s done the same to countless teachers, all staring down at him with a condescending sneer, assuming he’d instigated another fight.

Max might not be well acquainted with different types of bruises - and god he hopes she never has to be - but Billy certainly is. And your black eye is not from a stair railing, he knows that. It looks the same as his does whenever Neil decides he’s in a fighting mood, and it doesn’t seem like you have the frozen peas that Billy usually medicates his marks with.

“It’s okay!” Max promises, and thankfully she commands enough of your attention to where you don’t notice Billy’s grief-stricken stare, looking for all the world like he’d been punched in the gut.

‘It’s okay, we can just meet up some other time. Or- or I can come over to your house! So you don’t have to show your face anywhere. And I won’t tell,” She insists, hands dug snugly into the pockets of her jacket, “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

So are you, Billy notes, just not to the people with the same ones.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” You frown slightly, biting the inside of your cheek, “This really hurts, and it’s kind of giving me a headache, so… might be best to just meet when it’s healed.”

“That’s fine,” Max nods, reaching up and through the window to sling her arms around your neck in a rushed hug, “Just- call me when it’s better, okay? My teacher set us this new essay, and it’s got some stupidly complicated prompt, so I need your help figuring out-”

Billy watches as your head ticks up, eyes widening slightly as you tune into the sounds of your house. He knows the look all too well, you’ve heard someone coming.

“That’s great Max,” You stammer, reaching for the window pane to close it, "I’ve gotta go!”

“-how to… write it.” She finishes, face wrinkling in confusion when you slam the window shut, yanking the curtains closed, “Feel better…”

“Go,” Billy jumps to action, hearing a raised voice from within your room, not your own, “Max, move!”

He pushes her along the side of their house, shoving her around the back until they’re out of the line of sight from your window. He peers around the corner from behind an overgrown trellis, one that lets him see you without you seeing him. He waits with bated breath, ignoring Max’s indignant protests and slamming a hand over her mouth.

She licks his palm, but he manages to stay calm and keep it there. He will smear it on her cheek later, though.

Sure enough, Billy watches your curtains fly open. There’s a woman in the window now, and you’re standing behind her, expression unreadable. Then you speak, and Billy can’t hear it. Your voice must be soft, gentle, calming. The woman barrely reacts, eyes scanning wildly for whoever you’d been talking to. But Billy keeps Max quiet, pinching her hard when she tries escaping his grip.

Billy watches the woman in your window with a hatred he’s only ever felt towards Neil. She acts the same, menacing glares and a puffed-up chest. You react just as he does, a personified tension-diffuser as you shrink in on yourself and give steady, slow answers. She’s shouting, you’re mumbling. She’s advancing, you’re backing away. She’s grabbing your wrist, forcing you close to her, and you’re squeezing your eyes shut.

Billy’s stomach churns; he can’t watch this any longer.

He herds Max to the other side of the house, keeps her restrained with one hand and pries at her window with the other. It opens smooth and easy, no squeaking that would alert their parents to their escapade.

Once they’re both inside, she flips.

“You asshole,” She huffs, “You manhandled me! You really couldn’t just let me have one nice conversation with my friend? You had to yank me away like some psychopath?”

“She wasn’t going to come back,” Billy murmurs, a glint in his eyes urging her to lower her own voice, “And she didn’t fall down the stairs. Go to sleep, Max.”

He feels a pillow hit him in the back as he strides out of her room, and each step down the hallway towards his own feels like he’s numbing from the inside out. The role reversal of his own life had been so mind-shattering, watching a scene from his household happen in real time in front of him instead of a torturous memory in his nightmares.

By the time he reaches his room, his fingers are too numb to shut the door. He kicks it closed instead, staring out of the still-opened window to watch your own. The curtains are drawn again, shutting you off from the world.

He stands there staring for what feels like seconds, but is probably minutes with the way his brain is warping his thoughts. Abuse felt so lonely, it was a soundproof room with padded walls, but they stung like hot coals when his dad came stomping in to shove him up against them. His family, his safe space, his padded room, came with the irony of only existing alongside pain, fear, and anxiety. And knowing there was an identical room beside his for god knows how long, thick layers of insulation drowning out each of your cries and blocking out each other’s existence, makes him sick.

His eye stings with the residual image of your own, a feeling he knows all too well. His hand, on instinct, tingles with a cold sort of sensation, the same that he got from grabbing the ice-covered peas out of the freezer.

He’s off to the kitchen in a hurry, feet padding carefully across the floor so as not to alert anyone of his presence. The biggest challenge is opening the freezer door quietly, but he’s a pro at it by now. He takes the peas back to his room, but this time he doesn’t curl up in his bed with them pressed to his eye, he clutches them tightly and heads for the window.

Max’s flashlight is discarded on the sill, and he wraps it in his free fist. He clicks it on cautiously, testing the sound to see how it echoes in the empty space between your house and his. It’s not obnoxiously loud, hopefully no one can hear it.

He flashes it against your window, only for a second, then ducks beneath the sill. He waits, expecting an explosion of sound as your mother reaches out to grab him. But nothing happens, so he straightens up to his full height. The wind nips at his bare arms, goosebumps erupting over the skin not covered by his muscle tank. He waves the flashlight once more at your window, covering it with his thumb to flash it instead of clicking the button rapidly. 

He hears shuffling from inside, then silence. Then shuffling again, a little closer, and silence. Then more shuffling, and the routine continues until he hears your fingers scrape at the window pane.

You duck under the curtains this time, easier to slip back inside and shut the window instead of drawing the curtains, “Max, I can’t-”

Billy doesn’t know what to say when your eye catches him. He blinks, once, twice, three times, watching as your anxious eyes rove over him. Only then does he register the chill in his hand, the peas.

“Here,” He murmurs, voice soft and slightly raspy, as he holds the package out to you, “Ten minutes, then turn the package around, then ten more minutes. And if it’s still icy, do it over again.”

You take the peas because you have to, because he’s pressing the cold package into your hand. Your fingers wrap around it and you peer curiously at the image on the front, only glancing back up at him when he shifts in his stance, leaves crushed beneath his feet.

“The package rustles,” He warns you, “Be careful. Don’t get caught.”

“I won’t,” You finally murmur, breaking your stunned silence, “I- Uh, thank you. It’s.. Billy, right?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, nodding once. He’s half aware that his curls aren’t exactly perfect like they typically are, because nodding sends one of them tumbling into his eyesight over his forehead, “That’s me.”

“Y/N,” You mumble, and this time even Billy hears the heavy footfalls in your hallway. They set you on edge again, and he yanks his fingers back from the windowsill so that you can snap it shut, “I gotta go.”

“Bye,” He whispers, voice lost to the night as he stands outside your window. He ducks beneath the sill again, where your mom can’t see him if she decides to search the premises. He doesn’t hear anything from your room, though, and he takes it as a good sign when the footsteps retreat. Then he hears the soft crunch of the package of peas, muffled beneath what he assumes is your blanket as bed springs creak from within.

His eyes snap shut at the sound, envisioning you curled up beneath your comforter, hugging the bag of peas to your bruise. It’s a position that feels so natural to him he almost replicates it, back slumped against the siding of your house. The rustling stops; you got yourself settled.

Only then does he move, climbing back through his window and shutting it for the night. He can’t sleep, though, eyes drifting towards your window from his seat on his bed. He watches, he waits, he stares until his eyes sting, every second that passes a blessing for the lack of commotion it causes. When he does fall asleep it’s after the upstairs lights of your house have shut off, because only then is it over, only then is it safe. He sleeps in solidarity with you, knowing that the click of the lightswitch puts you at ease just like it does him; if there's someone else awake, it’s not safe to sleep. He’ll wake up tomorrow morning with a stiff neck from sleeping up against the wall, but his eyes will flutter open and the first thing he’ll see is your window, hopefully open to showcase peace inside.

Never in his life has he felt connected to someone his age. That’s what abuse does, that’s what Neil does. He isolates Billy, keeping him under his thumb so the boy can’t escape his clutches. But now there’s a glimmer of hope right next door. Hope, he supposes, isn’t the right word. A muddy black eye isn’t hopeful. It is, though, when it’s matching his own, when your scars and bruises line up with each other’s to map out constellations of torture. He wants to chart them, find out where the patterns are, spit out the stories behind them.

He’s spent enough time stargazing his own past, picking a new ball of fire each night to examine. To pick apart, to wish he’d have acted differently in, to regret. Now there’s a whole other sky mere feet away from him, and he yearns to chart it, to explore its patterns in the desperate hope of finding companionship. Oh, that cluster? A missed curfew. That bright one? Backtalk.

He’s always felt like a potential supernova. Like one day, all of the hurt, rage, and despair inside of him is going to burst forth in an explosion of color, blood and guts paired with anguish and heartache. 

And now, knowing there’s another ticking time bomb beside him, two panes of glass separating the two dying stars, he has hope. Maybe it’s morbid, to want to explode in tandem. To seek connection in even destruction. All Billy knows is that if he can’t get out, he’ll die.

He thinks about it for a moment; getting out. Shooting across the galaxy, hurtling over the inky black sky until the swirling black hole that is Neil Hargrove can’t suck him in anymore. Landing somewhere where he burns bright without the threat of explosion. 

And for the first time since that vision began, he sees two stars. One yours and one his, twin flames, both rocketing towards a safe corner of the universe, one where no one else can dim your glow. 

Billy knows right then and there, he has to get to know you. He’s never tried making real friends, never wants to get close enough to have to reveal that Daddy hits him and Mommy - New Mommy - doesn’t care. But you’re the same as him, a dimming star puttering along with the desperate hope of migrating instead of exploding. And if you can feed off of each other’s light, merge into one, he knows you’ll be strong enough to escape together, to go out without a bang.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

[kindlingkeen]

Keen!! No pressure or anything but will you ever write Jason&Damian-centric fics? hehe

Dick finds him on the top of the Old Gotham Cathedral at dawn. 

Jason hears the sound of boots touching down behind him and doesn’t bother to turn around. Nightwing has always had a different cadence to his landing than the Bat. It’s lighter, softer. He can never really suppress the bounce to his step.

Jason runs his hand over the head of the stone gargoyle to his right once more, the weather-roughened stone catching against his bare palm.

“I’ll be gone by tonight,” he says evenly. “I just had a few things to take care of while I was in town.”

“Hood,” Dick calls softly, “Jason, please.”

Jason hunches deeper into his hoodie. He feels naked without his leather jacket.

In front of him, the Gotham’s skyline stretches out. The buildings are bathed in the pink rays of the newly rising sun. For a moment, the city’s darkness, the poison-riddled grime that covers everything, fades away in the sun’s burgeoning glow.

“What do you want, Wing?” Jason asks irritably.

Dick’s boots scuff against the roof's slate tiles as he moves closer. Jason knows Nightwing can be absolutely silent when he wants to. His shoulders climb up higher, practically to his ears. He doesn’t turn around.

“Aren’t you going to ask about the kid?”

“No,” Jason grinds out, ignoring the way his stomach twists. His hand clamps down hard against the gargoyle’s head, his fingers digging into the stone. He feels one of his thumbnails crack and tear.

“He stabbed Tim.”

Jason snorts softly as he rolls his shoulders back slowly, letting his hand fall away from the statue to rest in his lab. “I warned you about letting him near weapons.”

“It was a butter knife!”

Jason huffs a breath out his nose, amused in spite of himself. He pretends not to notice when Dick plops down onto the roofline three feet away from him. Out of the corner of his eye, he watches as the vigilante hunches forward, propping an elbow onto his knee with a sigh as he drops his chin into his hand. Even with Nightwing’s domino in place, Jason can feel Dick’s eyes boring into the side of his face.

“Jay, he’s refusing to speak in anything except Arabic. B is the only one who can understand him.”

The tilt to Jason’s lips falls away. “Don’t call me that. And the kid knows English. He’ll come around.”

“He’s not even five years old. He lost his mother. His home. He got dragged halfway around the world only to be left with strange people in a strange place.”

Jason glances over sharply, finally meeting Dick’s gaze directly.

“Does the Bat know you’re here, Wing?”

Dick grimaces. “He won’t stop asking for you, Jason. He cried himself to sleep last night, and the only thing he would say was your name.”

Pain lances through Jason’s chest as white-hot heat clogs his throat.

“What are you to him, Jason? You bringing him here—it’s more than just you owing Talia a favor.” 

Nightwing’s white lenses stare at him unblinkingly. Jason looks away.

“You still haven’t told me what you want, Wing. You can’t guilt trip me into something if I don’t know what you’re asking for.”

There’s a beat of silence, and then Dick says softly, “Come home, Jason. Please, we need you.”

Jason surges to his feet, stumbling back a step before he catches himself. The scar across his neck throbs.

“The manor isn’t my home,” he rasps. “Not anymore. I’m not welcome there.”

Dick springs gracefully to his feet, following Jason’s retreat with measured steps as Jason continues to back away slowly across the roof.

“It is, you are,” he entreats, and then more softly, “please, for Damian. He needs you.”

Jason swallows, his throat working. He feels the echo of a warm weight in his arms, soft hair tickling his face, the fresh, clean smell of a baby wafting thickly through his nose.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” Jason whispers, his voice cracking at the end. But he stops moving away.

He can see the knowledge that he’s won wash over Dick’s face a second before the man smiles tentatively. Jason scowls in return.

“One week,” he spits out. “Just until the kid settles in. And the Bat stays out of my way. Don’t start playing happy families in your head.”

Dick’s smile grows. “Sure, Jay, whatever you want.”

“Don’t call me that,” Jason grumbles. But he follows Dick off the roof all the same.

~~~

More details on this AU in progress here.

[so-many-fandoms-here]

(English isn’t my first language so feel free to correct any mistake you notice.)

• Characters: Levi Ackerman, fem!Reader

• Genre: fluff, a bit of angst

• Warnings: describing birthing (not super detailed)

Daughter

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*

-Levi’s Pov-

I was already up and preparing breakfast when (Y/n) stepped into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes tired and yawning loudly. „Good morning Levi“, she mumbled and sat down at the table.

I supported myself on the kitchen sideboards, limped over to my pregnant wife and placed a kiss on her head. „Good morning you two.“

She hummed with closed eyes and rubbed her big belly. „Baby kicks just like you.“ I couldn’t help but chuckle. „It’s my baby after all.“ I placed my hand that wasn’t supporting my weight softly on her belly.

„Out of all qualities it could have gotten from you I really hoped it wouldn’t be your kicks“, she sighs dramatically and leans further back in the chair. I grabbed one of the other chairs that stood around the table and sat down in front of (Y/n) who had her eyes closed again, obviously exhausted from the long night.

„You’re not even born yet and already causing mommy sleepless nights?“ I spoke as I leaned further down until my face was in front of her belly. „Believe me, she’s way more pleasant when she slept well.“

For that I’ve earned a light slap on the head, causing another chuckle to leave my lips. Then I leaned up again and placed a kiss on my wife’s lips.

The amount of love I felt for this little rascal that wasn’t even born yet was overwhelming and sometimes left me scared.

„What if they don’t like me?“, I mumbled one of my many concerns against (Y/n)s soft lips. „Don’t be stupid“, she responded. „Our child is going to love you.“ And then placed another reassuring kiss on my lips.

But I wasn’t convinced. „I never had a father, I don’t even know how that works.“ (Y/n) wanted to say something but I just continued. „What if they’re scared of my scars? What if I can’t show my love enough? What if“ (Y/n) shut me up with a loud Shhhh and placed her hands on my cheeks. „Our baby is going to love you“, she repeated, not leaving any room for complaints.

„It’s time we talk about a potential godfather or godmother, don’t you think?“, she switched the topic while she stood up and grabbed herself a cup to pour some tea in it. I responded with a nod and said: „I nominate Armin.“

I could basically hear how her (e/c) eyes rolled. „It’s not a voting Levi“, she answered with a chuckle. „I know. I’m just messing with you“, I responded with a slight smirk. „Still Armin.“

(Y/n) nodded in agreement, her face decorated with the biggest, warmest smile that she always had when we planned anything related to the baby. „I thought about him too. He is so gentle and responsible. I’m pretty sure he will be so happy.“

„He’s least likely to drop the baby.“

The noise that came from my wife was made from the cup which she placed loudly on the cupboard again. „Levi!“

„I’m just saying what we both were thinking. They’re all just big ass kids, no way I’m leaving a fragile little human in their sweaty meathooks.“ I didn’t see the towel coming that flew in my direction and landed right on my face. While I pouted, acting like I was pissed, (Y/n) knew I was messing with her again and started to laugh so loud and long that I almost thought she would choke on her own voice.

—

Even though we planned everything thoroughly, the day the baby came still felt somehow chaotic. (Y/n) was a mess, I was a mess, everything was a mess.

It was morning when the water broke. I was reading the newspaper and watched the people through the window going to work, taking a walk, whatever normal people do, when suddenly (Y/n) started to whine. It was like a howl, painful and scared. My head turned and I saw her supporting herself on the doorframe to our bathroom in which she went seconds before.

I stood up and got to her as fast as I could, not paying attention to my crutch leaning against the table. It would only get in my way (like always).

„(Y/n)!“, I yelled, clueless what I could do instead. When I was beside her I could see the puddle on the floor. I hoped my fight or flight response would activate itself, like it did on the battlefield, but it didn’t. Instead I stood there with a horrified expression and looked at her. After a few seconds of brain-loss I caught myself again and wrapped my arms around her waist, which was kind of useless when I look back at it. „Come on, let’s get you in the bedroom.“

I had to let go of her immediately since I was no help for her with my broken leg, which I despised even more in this moment, and walked slowly behind her through the hallway into our bedroom.

The thick bedsheets that our midwife gave us where placed next to the bed, waiting for their time. I quickly spread them on the mattress on which (Y/n) sat down right after.

„Breath“, I reminded her (more myself to be honest) and took her hands in mine. For a second the world went quiet.

It’s happening. I am going to be a father very soon.

I quickly got rid of my sentimental thought and limped to the window, which I opened quickly and started to scan the streets, hoping I would see one of the brats.

„Oi!“ I yelled and immediately Armins head popped out of nowhere.

„Yes sir?“ I saw how his hand twitched, still tempted to salute. I‘m starting to believe he will never get used to not saluting.

„Get the nurse!“ I yell and a mix of horror and happiness appears on Armins face. „It’s time?“, he asks to which I nod. „Obviously!“ I yell even louder and watch him with an expecting look.

He took way too long for my liking to find out of his shock, but eventually he started to run to get the nurse while yelling „The baby‘s coming! The baby’s coming!“

I turned back around to face (Y/n) and watched how she shifts in bed to lie on her back. I walked up to her and sat next to her on the mattress.

„She‘ll be here any moment“, I reassured her while taking her hand in mine and waiting for the sound of the front door opening. After what felt like hours, but were probably not even minutes, the door swung open and our midwife, happy as ever, stepped inside the room.

„Well look at that!“, she calls out. „Looks like baby’s ready to see the world her parents made.“

She often told us how honored she was to work with us and she often tended to exaggerate a bit.

She made her way around the bed and asked (Y/N) to help her take off her underwear. She handed me the wet panty, which I quickly discarded on the floor, no way would I crawl away from my wife to tidy up right now.

The nightgown was pushed up over (Y/N)s thighs while the midwife took a look between her legs. „Yep, baby is in a hurry. I can already see the head.“

(Y/N) squeezed my hand tighter. „I’m scared“, she mumbled. I let go of her hand so I could wrap my arm around her. „Me too“, I whispered when she lied in my arms, grabbing my other hand.

„You ready to push momma?“, the nurse asked to which (Y/N) laughed a forced laugh. „I don’t have that much of a choice now, do I?“

A few hours of screaming and crying passed until a different cry cut through the air.

A light, but strong scream.

„There she is“, the nurse announced and took a towel in which she wrapped our child after cutting the umbilical cord. „A beautiful little girl.“

(Y/N) stretched out her arms, silently demanding the woman to give her the tiny being. Once she held our daughter in her arms she fell exhausted against my chest again.

Too stunned to speak I looked at the little human in her arms, looking just as exhausted as her mother.

(Y/N)s struggles weren’t over yet, since the placenta had to come out too, but after that was managed, the nurse gave us some time to ourselves while she would prepare some tea and something to eat.

Thankful for both, the peace and the fact that she would make something for us I nodded and watched how she closed the door behind her.

„She’s beautiful“, (Y/N) whispered. „Yeah“, I answered. „Just like her mother.“

I earned a tired smile from my wife and felt how she rested her head against my shoulder. „Do you want to hold her?“, she asked after a while.

„Of course!“ I said way too excited but got hesitant right after my statement. „But what if I do something wrong?“

„You won’t“, (Y/N) reassured me. „Take off you shirt.“ She giggled at my confused look. „Skin to skin“, she simply said and I remembered what the nurse told us. It’ll help bonding.

So I quickly got rid of my T-Shirt and then took my daughter as gently as possible into my hands. Her head was supported by my biceps and her little hand reached out and touched my chest lightly.

In awe I studied her face. The tiny eyes, the even tinier nose, her sweet cheeks and her lips that I just knew would carry the most warming smile the world would ever see.

(Y/N)s hand sneaked on our daughters stomach, not ready to give up every last bit of skin contact.

Suddenly my eyes filled with tears and my heart felt like it was about to burst from this immense and intense love I felt when I looked at my baby.

„If this is what the war was for“, I whispered with a shaky voice. „Then I would do it all again.“ The tears that at first just lingered in my eyes now streamed down my face. „Every last bit of it. I would do it all again for her.“

I glanced at (Y/N) and saw how she nodded, knowing exactly what I meant and knowing she would do the same.

„You still like the name Mary?“ I asked her to which I earned another nod. „Yes. But to be honest, she looks more like a Mary Isabel, don’t you think?“

My already endless stream of tears just got worse. Mary Isabel. (Y/N)s tears fell on my shoulder while we stood silent in agreement.

„Mary Isabel Ackerman“, I mumble after a while, my chest filled with love and pride. „My daughter.“

And suddenly I knew what peace felt like.

[physalian]

The Fantasy Language Translation Matrix

Whether you intend to write your own full-blown lexicon with different verb tenses and formal vs informal language, need unique words for spellwork, or just need new names for all your foreign places, behold… the Physalian patented Fantasy Language Translation Matrix.

(I kid. I have no idea if I’m the first to come up with this)

**Disclaimer!** After rolling out your fresh new vocab off the word assembly line, make sure you google it and that it doesn’t already exist and mean something you don’t intend.

Step 1: Pick your Derivative

You can make it sound completely foreign and like total gibberish, but I find it easier for you and other people to read if they have some real-world reference to compare it to, and so they have a clue for which pronunciation rules to rely on. For example: I did not know who René Descartes was my freshman year of high school. His last name was in my algebra book, and I, thinking he was Greek like so many other ancient mathematicians, pronounced his name as if he were Greek “Des-kart-ees.” I got made fun of.

Spare your readers the humiliation.

So say I want a vaguely… Russian/Latin/Italian influence. As opposed to French. Cool. That’s my starting point.

Step 2: Reorder the most common letters from English to your new language

In English, the average use of the standard alphabet by letter in order is this:

Ignore your vowels for a second. I don’t use charts like this on the regular, I use the Wheel of Fortune method and focus on RSTLNE, then go from there. I also want to make sure this isn’t a complete 1:1 ratio so it’s not super obvious I’m just juggling letters around, so I’ll knock out some “duplicate” letters and swap out singular letters for specific sounds.

The goal of this isn’t to stare at two existing language matrices and perfectly match them up, it’s to take the most common sounds and letters in English and make them new, common sounds in your new language, to sound more uniform and like you have a real etymology.

And I end up with this:

This might look a little confusing on how I got from A to Z so the basics:

All my vowels remain in the same place, they just get juggled around so I don’t end up with 8 consonants next to each other and word garbage

My “duplicate” letters are combined so I have more room for the new sounds, like c/k, f/ph/gh, h/wh, s/z. The new sounds then get the spare letters I had left over

Common english suffixes get reduced down so the pattern isn’t as obvious

If you want to include accent marks, this is your chance

I wanted to really emphasize the long “e” and long “i” sounds, so those got extra attention

Step 3: Translating

Oftentimes this is not perfect, or you end up with a word that just doesn’t fit the rest of your new vocabulary, because English is the bastard lovechild of German, Latin, Danish, and French.

I start with English, usually, but if the English word is too short or too long, I translate it first into another language, like Spanish, and go from there. Like “bus” vs “autobus”.

Using your matrix, go one by one. Let’s use a word like “letter”.

English: L-E-T-T-E-R

New: T-A-C-C-A-Z

Step 4: Polishing

So now I have my new word: “Taccaz”

Which is serviceable. I can throw an accent on either A or fiddle with the Z. I can start with “carta” instead and end up with “kizci”. The matrix is just a starting point. It’s designed to streamline the process when I’m otherwise feeling uncreative and in a rush, and it moves very quickly when I need to come up with full phrases and sentences that someone would actually say.

Step 5: Full sentences

This is only if you’re really digging deep and not coming up with the occasional fantasy curse word or new name for your fantasy land/realm/noun etc.

For this you’re going to need lots of tables. I based mine off romance languages because I know Spanish and romance languages make sense. This is where you decide how many pronouns, if any, you’re going to use, how the infinitive changes based on past, present, or future tense, how many nouns the word references, etc.

This is… a lot. Way more than you’d ever need for your manuscript. Ever. But I did it just for my own sake. Does it get long? Yes. Does it get tedious? Yes. The point here is to have little pre-manufactured word bytes you can plug and play with, with as little mental effort as possible so you can save it for the rest of your work.

I also came up with very common words already conjugated, like “to be” so I can just glance and type without having to remember to take “is” and go through the process over and over again.

Which means that I can take an entire sentence and translate it to my new language in about two minutes.

English: The payoff is worth it, this is so satisfying. New, roughly: Nu kioyb ela fyzip ne, iski ela valo nicenbalaev.

Of course, you can keep tinkering until you get something that’s easier on the eyes (I’ve been working with this language for years so I can read it pretty well), but not all languages are smooth and pretty and simple.

To be frank: Most readers will just gloss over this stuff anyway, but it shows that you put in the effort and it enhances the lore and the immersion when you do this. At least in the written medium. You can’t ignore it if this is meant to be in a screenplay.

Is this what a language professor would do or recommend? Probably not, I have no idea. Does it work? Yes. I have a fully functioning grammatical system where any input can give me a legible output.

To make this yourself, just change the order of the letters around, adjust your shortcuts, and come up with your own common sounds for those last two rows. The conjugation matrix is where you can really make it distinct, assuming you are basing yours off a romance language, which you don't have to.

—

And there you have it!

Don’t forget to vote in the dialogue poll before it closes!

[eris-snow]

𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

Tags: Revelation (Deku's birthday series 2024), izuku x fem!reader, revelation, stabbing, blood, angst, no fluff, sorry, pain, this is late, ft bakugou and ochaco,

Masterlist

15th July: Doomsday.

--

Class starts off normal. Yeah, that’s it. Cool, normal, totally not like your childhood best friend is burning holes into you like you were going to get slammed by a semi-truck at any minute.

Izuku’s eyes are pools of crystal lakes. Like Narcissus looking into his own reflection, Izuku’s eyes compelled you to look his way. Maybe it was sorcery or witchcraft—his eyes seem to sparkle, and they’re mesmerising beyond any precious jewel.

I get it. It’s your birthday. Doomsday.

And maybe, you were just the slightest bit peeved at his actions. All through yesterday, he’d been avoiding you like a plague. Wouldn’t talk to you, speak to you, hell, he wouldn��t even look at you. Then all of a sudden, he decides that he wants to shower you with his gaze and attention, or peer at you with those fucking eyes like he hadn’t been avoiding you these past few days.

You thought you knew dense, but this? Izuku was a fucking mineshaft.

Just as you’re about to address his intense gaze during homeroom, Aizawa calls you out for the second time in the span of one week. You pretend you don’t feel all eyes on you as you exit the classroom. There’s a certain aloofness you can never mirror from Kacchan. There isn’t the “I’d die for you in a heartbeat” mentality ingrained in your bones just like how it is for Izuku. You wish to emulate both of them, for a trait special to your personal, but when you stop to think about it, you draw a blank.

Ugly, ugly, plain and boring, you remind yourself, as you step out the classroom to meet Aizawa. You’re getting called out so often because you can’t even act fine correctly.

There’s a hand in your face before you know your mouth is open. “My turn first,” Aizawa says, dead serious. “You aren’t in trouble, and this isn’t about Midoriya.”

Your mouth clangs shut, and your throat constricts. What else would he want to talk about?

“An opportunity has been presented to you,” Aizawa says, trailing off a little. “By Star’s former agency in America.”

The world tilts sideways, and you actually stumble to keep yourself on your feet because of the floor’s disequilibrium. “W-What…?”

“One of them wants you there as a sidekick.”

America?

That’s more than, what, 6000 miles to the great wild West. The land where dreams came true (supposedly).

“Ever since you aided Stars and Stripes in her last battle, the agency’s been keeping an eye on you. There’s an interview, and paperwork, and a contract but I suspect those are simply formalities.” Aizawa says nonchalantly, but you can see the pride in his eyes. The pride of a teacher, when his student has soared high. That battle was intense, but it was ashes compared to Izuku’s heart-moving victory that had saved the world.

“B-B-But…” You stutter, “I-I don’t think I’m the best candidate! Won’t they want one from the Big Three? Did they get the wrong person? Ask them to double-check because I don’t think—”

Aizawa gives you an unnerving stare, and his words that come out flat. “Kid, they phoned me 14 times. Pretty sure they got the right person.”

Hesitation lines your face, as Aizawa pats your shoulder. “More details will be given should you accept. They want you from next year onwards, which I am willing to compromise for as long as you have fixed times with you to revise the necessary topics. You, Bakugou and Midoriya have finished most of the syllabus, correct? Should you feel necessary, I possess revision materials and suitable dates should you want to take the final exam earlier.”

It’s a beautiful opportunity. A ‘I-found-a-golden-ticket-in-my-chocolate’ kind of opportunity. It was so tempting to take.

But…

You were just 17. A teenager that won the lottery, who now had to deal with consequences. What about family, housing, language, oh God, your English was so bad you would die before they asked you ‘dine in or take out?’ And besides…

Aizawa sees the look on your face, and sighs loudly. How many times are you going to stupidly throw your life away for Izuku?

You can’t keep doing this, but clinging to Izuku and this ever burning love you have for him is all you ever know. Running of to America? You don’t think you could comprehend the distance across oceans paired with the distance of time. Aizawa stares at you and shakes his head in disappointment. “Give it a thought. It’s okay to be selfish sometimes, L/n. Don’t let anyone hold you back from chasing your dream.”

You swallow thickly. It’s all you’ve ever wanted, someone wants you, and you’re being called to help other people, be a real heroe and drop the ‘in-training’, to fight crime and kick as in a country with crime rates so high they could rival the Empire State Building.

You’re a terrible mess, and when you think about it more, the more miserable you get.

It’s my dream to be a hero, but what if my dream is you too?

—

“We need to talk,” Izuku’s voice is gentle, but it’s plush pillows wrapped up in caution tape. Assessing him doesn’t take too long, because by the way he grips your wrist as your foot is halfway out the door, he wants to tell you something, and it’s urgent.

Shrugging his hand off, you fold your arms and project aloofness, although it’s not very convincing. You feel your lips threaten to break into a false smile, and mentally slap yourself when it almost flits across your face. Izuku had caught up to you on that ever since his fragmented memories started returning, so you’d tried to stop.

Bad habits and sticky fingers.

“What is it?” You try to soften the edge of your voice like sandpaper, but you still see the way he flinches at your voice. Patrol is in half an hour, and if you don’t book it, you’ll be late. “Oh, and if this is about your birthday party and how you don’t want it, too bad, Mina already bought silly string and Sato bought ingredients for the cake, so you can’t—”

“It’s not, about my birthday.” He insists, shoving the topic aside. A hand runs through his curls, as if trying to soothe his nerves, but you can see the way he has to forcefully drop his hands to the side and avert his gaze. His outer shell had slowly crumbled off the longer he was around you, little fragments chipped off until gone is Hero Deku, and underneath is a more human Izuku, with nervous habits and mistakes.

“Look, I’m sorry I haven’t been…around.” He says, trying to phrase it nicely. It does him no favours. “There were a couple of things I had to figure out and rearrange in my head, it’s just—”

He looks desperate, and you’re feeling bad. Emerald green washes over your eyes, mirroring the calm of a forest even though he’s nothing but.

“I’ve gotten hold of how the Quirk Accident happened, and-and a way to lift the Quirk, but…” He swallows thickly, before his eyebrows furrow. “Are you even listening to me?”

Your eyes had strayed to a clock, thoughts wandering, but you jerked back to reality when a scarred hand tugged your own. “A way to lift the Quirk?”

It’s only when you repeat his words do you really understand the weight of them.

Joy bubbles up and exudes from you like an air freshener on crack.

Hey, aren’t you excited? The little child that always hoped for another way whispers, tugging your arm with a beautiful smile. Izuku’s gonna remember you.

But the logical side of you, the side with squandered hope and broken dreams makes you think through your feelings. The longer you think about it, the more it doesn’t make sense.

If Izuku had found a way to lift this curse, then why hadn’t he done it yet?

The clocks tick, and the minute hand moves. How many minutes do you have left until he forgets?

“Yeah, but that can wait.” He says in a rush. “There’s some guy I met—on the streets! He’s related to my Accident. I don’t think he’s the exact person, but close, brother, probably, since he said ‘Nii-san’—”

“What?”

Your heart rate spikes and colour drains from your face. Chisuke and Izuku made contact, oh God, and you didn’t even know. Now that you see it, you can’t unsee it. The redness on his neck, like he’d been held at knifepoint. Worry blossoms in your voice.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone? Why didn’t tell Sensei?”

“I just met him yesterday,” Izuku defends, eyes blazing. “And he’s not targetting me like you thought, he’s targetting you!”

Time slows. The declaration was like a veil lifted from your eyes, a shiny revelation that stares at you in the face. The target…

Is me.

Your eyes flicker back to Izuku’s face, huffing and puffing like he fought a bull to stand down. You stare at him. He’s all muscle, baby fat thinning, freckles sprinkled across his face like stars in the sky.

“It’s me?” You whisper, voice small.

Izuku watches you look at him dumbly, words caught in your throat.

“Please,” He whispers, features lined with worry, the same worry you once felt for him now reflected right back at you. “Don’t go for patrol, stay here, where it’s safe. Starlight—”

The name feels like ants on your skin.

“You’ve done so much already,” he takes out a hand, the same one as in that dumb, snow-white hospital room when he got concussed from pushing himself too hard.

I’ve done nothing.

“I…” He swallows. “I don’t want to lose you when I’m this close to figuring it all out.”

The last time you’d taken his hand it tasted like victory. Everything felt perfect, as if fireworks had painted the sky a vibrant colour shows, an artist’s masterpiece for all to see. But now, as you lock eyes with his hand, you can’t help but wonder if it really mattered anymore.

It doesn’t matter if Izuku remembers or forgets—Chisuke would still be hunting you down, looking for a way to wipe your emotions until the heroes lock him up.

All the memories, flashes of moments he’s gained from agony and tears—they’ll be locked behind reinforced walls by the stroke of midnight.

The karma of this exact day, 7 years ago is finally catching up to you after all this time. What will Chisuke do this time? Cut you up? Drown you in your blood? You taste ash on your tongue, throat clogged up.

If it really comes to it, maybe it wasn’t completely undeserved.

Isn’t that for the best? Someone whispers in your ear, voice a whispy and taunting.

Because this entire fiasco is because of you.

The minute hand ticks again, and your phone buzzes. Your patrol, your shift—

Izuku’s still there, waiting for you to take his hand.

Walls constrict on you, and feel your ribcage squeezing the air out of your lungs.

You’re gonna die, you’re going to flatline, you’re—

You only hurt when you let it hurt, and it all goes away when you don’t think.

Don’t think.

The answer comes to your hazardous grappling, and you’re so desperate to stop spiralling, you do something that you haven’t done since Izuku started talking to you again.

It comes as easy as breathing, as you let that rope snap. Up goes the walls, and gone your thoughts.

Don’t think.

Dissociate, detach, let go, don’t cry, you can’t start now.

Eyes flash upwards, and you force yourself to steel. Stars aren’t supposed to break.

“Move.”

Izuku’s eyes widen at your shifted demeanour, and his legs carry him out of my way as his face collapses with confusion. “Starlight, what’s wrong with you?” He whispers, pleading for you to listen. “Starlight—”

“I’m going for patrol,” You exhale sharply, looking at him with dull eyes. Expressionless, head empty, come on, just a little bit more, don’t break now—

“I’ll be careful out there, and I’ll come back safe.” Maybe.

“Starlight, you’re not listening to me—!”

“You never listen to me either, so I guess we’re both even!” You shout, swinging the door open.

The anger is foreign at your fingertips. You’ve felt disappointed, sad, longing and desire, all shrivelled up in balls of tissue paper as you wake up screaming at night. But anger? It was fresh, a band-aid ripped from raw skin.

“We’re both shitty teenagers who want to do what we think is the best for each other, and there’s nothing more to it,” You whisper, rubbing your eyes at where the tears start to leak out. This is bad, you’re out of practice, and the mask is peeling off so quickly.

You’re just so, so tired.

“Leave me alone, Midoriya.”

Hurry up and get your memories already.

“I’m not worth it.”

Haven’t I waited long enough?

Tears prickle Izuku’s eyes, pools of green watering. He’s always been such a crybaby.

Voice shaky, he echoes. “You’re worth it.”

A terrible, unsightly smile crawls up your face, and the laugh that drops from your lips is bitter and humourless.

“Goodbye, Midoriya.”

The door slams shut, and Izuku’s tears bubble over. What hell of a birthday is this?

A shadow creeps up on him, and, oh look it’s Kacchan. He messed up big time, of course he blew it with you. Furiously, he wipes his tears away and sniffles. He has no right to cry.

“God, dammit nerd, what the fuck was that?”

“I know—” He sobs, as Katsuki punches him in the face. The burn is well deserved, as the blond yanks him by the collar and spits in his face. “Good job, dumbass! You lost someone who’s been chasing after you for fuck knows how long. How’d you manage that?”

Katsuki’s voice is like a slap in the face, one he knew he very much deserved. “What, you gonna sob about this like a baby? Fucking man up, Izuku! You have a game to play, asshole. Ball’s in your court, so what’s your move?”

His mind whirls, gears turning. You’re probably halfway to the station, he knows how fast you run. Especially from him, always, always him.

“Oi, shitface!” Katsuki spits, red eyes blazing with fire from the Underworld. “What’s. Your. Move?”

A sharp bolt stabs his cornea, making him writhe in agony. Kacchan’s yelling recedes into the background, his mind sprouting words like it was trivia night on Saturday.

White lies, eyes, smiles, laughs—

He squeezes his eyes shut, pain blooming.

Starlight, Zuku, Secrets—

He gasps, unable to breathe.

Sketcheswillowtreesforgetmenots—

His mind glitches, and images flash. A lush forest that’s always lathered in colour, beautiful branches like streamers with a lake as pure as waters from springs.

Almost instantaneously, One For All crackles from the ends of his hair to the tips of his toes. Izuku tosses himself out of Kacchan’s grip, eyes wild and frenzied. “I need—” He cuts himself off. “I need to go.”

He zips past Kacchan, and bolts out the door.

Fuck the bus, he’d get there faster on foot. He knows exactly where he’s going, because he’s going back to where it all started.

Back to the memories that resided in your glade.

—

The overcast sky greets your gaze as your hero partner frowns. “Oh, man, it’s gonna rain!” She wails, lamenting the bad weather. You look up, watching the sun disappear behind the curtain of grey clouds.

What’s a little bit of pain without a little bit of rain?

—

Izuku never ran so fast in his life. He’s probably a flying, leaping safety hazard, but he doesn’t care. Stormy clouds roll in, as the sun bids farewell for the day. The news drones on about the rainy forecast prediction. 

Yeah, no shit. He thinks, as one drop lands on his jacket.

Not a minute later, it pours.

Trespassing seems like a small feat too, as he leaps over the fence and stumbles. He doesn’t fall, though The rain makes everything slippery, so it’s a fight for balance as he reroutes his way to his destination like his body is a satellite.

The voice, your voice, gets louder and louder as he nears the clearing. It’s splitting his skull in half, and he’s fighting to keep himself from doubling over.

“Save you—”

“I’m so sorry—”

“Come back to me—”

Gritting his teeth, his hand brushes past the leaves that reveal the toneless clearing that you’d adored so much. It’s so bare, without its colour. A step forward is all it takes for his legs to buckle, forcing him to kneel as his hands trace the willow tree’s rough bark.

“Who are you?” “I’m Y/n! What’s your name?”

“Race you!”

“I’ll call you Zuku! It’s shorter, and nicer!”

Wax on bone, flesh peeling and blood dripping. He screams, loud and broken, the pain more than he could ever imagine.

“I’m not a transfer, I’m not a stranger—”

“Izuku, please—”

“I love your eyes.”

“I love your smile.”

“Don’t leave, Zuku. Stay here with me.”

“I love you.”

The world is burning, and upside down, right? The cool pitter-patter on his skin feels like acid, oh, make it stop, please make it—

Tit for tat, this for that. A brother for a brother, and pain for bits and scraps.

You want to find your memories? I understand. My Quirk is simple, very simple. Pain is not worth the weight of knowledge.

The world goes dead silent, as his heartbeat thumps in his chest. Erratic, frantic, as the world seemingly explodes. Izuku isn’t so sure if he’s dying, though it certainly feels like it.

“I love you.”

The words thrum in Izuku’s head like a martyr, echoed in your voice at all different ages. Fragmented across different timelines, the world stops, and along with it, silence engulfs his being.

He blinks, and he’s standing in front of the wall again. It’s fragmented so badly, his breath hitches at the beautifully ugly sight.

In the silence’s place, is the faint but distinct sound of a heart monitor beeping.

Izuku looks up to see the wall crack once more, and shatter in front of his very own eyes.

Your trade is sufficient.

In return, I’ll return you everything that was once yours.

—

It all happens instantaneously. Suddenly, someone dials the decibel level back up to max, and Izuku’s memories arrive like a mountain avalanche. 

He jerks his head up, the ringing in his head fading as he’s thrown back into the world of senses. The rain pours, and the thunder booms.

His mind feels comfortably full, sharper, and he’s horrified he didn’t realise how empty it was in the first place.

“Oh, Starlight,” He whispers, voice wobbly as he sorts through the different years. So many things make sense now, from your words to actions and your expressions that always screamed help me. A hand comes up to cover his mouth as he lines the memories with gold. He’s been so daft this entire time, and you—

Guilt rises to his mouth and it tastes awfully like bile. It’s getting very difficult to breathe.

How could I ever forget you?

Arms wrapped around himself, he lets out a strangled cry, shame chewing him up more and more because this? This was what you went through? 7 years of obliviousness, white lies, and a whole-ass relationship that he was never meant to have with Ochaco. 7 years of putting up to him, clinging to him, oh gosh, this year was such a dumpster fire—

“I love you.” Your voice rings in his head, and his words pile on top of each other in his throat. The revelation is warm sunlight in the cold shower of rain, and he sobs when he finally understands the gravity of them. 

I love you, even if I can only have different facades of yourself.

I love you, so I’ll chase you as long as I have to.

I love you, even though you will never love me back.

“I love you too,” He whispers brokenly, gathering up the pieces of his ruined memories in scarred hands. “I’ve always loved you.”

It was always meant to be you, that’s why nothing ever felt right.

From the times you brought him your bentos in middle school when the bullies would throw his own away, to the times you sat there with him for hours. Those times you never said anything but just listened to him, made him feel heard and respected and—

loved.

Izuku knew he was whipped the moment the nickname ‘Zuku’ sprouted from your mouth in that sandbox all those years ago.

Can’t even survive a Quirk Accident right, some love, he scoffs at himself, staggering as he pulls himself to his feet.

Your trade is sufficient. The voice at the back of his mind reminds him, causing blood to drain from his face. There’s only so long that you can overlook one factor, and this one was a ticking time bomb that got his brain throbbing and searching hungrily for the answer.

What exactly has he traded?

His phone alarm blares in his pocket, causing him to fumble with it as it automatically starts to play the latest news.

“—Currently facing off against a villain! Two of them, although it’s difficult to see as one of them has a wind manipulation Quirk. It seems he’s at least partially responsible for the storm right now. Hero/n and Everblaze continue to push for the capture of the villain behind the recent cases police cases of officers found waking up unable to feel joy—”

All colour drains from his face. There’s nothing more that needs to be said. He pockets his phone, fires up One For All, and leaps for the city.

Izuku’s lost you once. He refuses to lose you again.

—

Seeing Chisuke tastes like shit. Not that you would know or anything, but this is how you’d imagine shit would taste like.

Izuku was right, of course he was.

Chisuke was here for you.

You dodge the incoming blow swiftly, back to back of your senior. The rain pours, but it doesn’t stop the attack, because you’re a lighthouse in a storm.

“This lot is targeting you, Hero/n, what did you do?” Everblaze grits, flipping her smoke bomb of to buy time.

“Something stupid that involved crashing into a man at age 10.” You mutter, hands lighting up with your Quirk.

She curses, before reporting to comms. “Hero/n and Everblaze on the scene, requesting for backup now!”

“The guy with the knife, get him first.” You say, a strange calm settling under your skin as you navigate through this with professionalism and detachment. “He’s the most dangerous, in terms of long-term setbacks.”

You never know when he’s going to strike. A warped version of Toga, but at least Toga loved her victims. This person…he just liked stabbing people and getting revenge.

With the precision of a neurosurgeon, you toss the man sneaking up on you over your shoulder pinning him to the ground.

Cold blue eyes stare up at you, with a twisted smirk framing his face. He’s older than you last saw him, stubble growing fuzzy under his chin and hair shaggy in the rain.

“Starlight, I found you!” He breathes, cackling you when you twist his arm behind his back. The laughter will forever haunt your nightmares. “I finally found you…”

“Don’t call me that,” you hiss, digging your elbow into him even more. Everblaze’s voice is radio static in your ear.

“Deal with Knifey, I’ll manage the Whirlwind!”

“Copy,” You grit out, struggling to hold him down. “Backup ETA?”

“10 minutes, counting!”

A flash of silver flickers in your peripheral, and you lunge back the minute he takes a swing at you. Water makes you slip, and he contorts his body, pulling yours forward as he lifts up his knife and—

Your thoughts evaporate like steam over a hot pot. He wedges the dagger between your shoulder blade, and its acid corroding your bones. Grunting, you yank his knife out of your shoulder, tossing it to the side. 

You look back just in time to see him pocketing a vial of your blood.

“Two more to go!” He cackles over the thunder as he brandishes a shiny new knife.

Dread pulls in your gut as you clasp your shoulder. Water makes the blood runny, and if it weren’t for the adrenaline, the pain would have exploded like fireworks on the 4th of July.

“Backup 8 minutes!”

The rain drones on. Donning dirty clothes and an ugly smile, he looks feral, crazy, and the determination behind his voice rivals yours.

“Pay your price, Starlight!” He yells, eyes gleaming. “Give my brother back!”

What comes around goes around. The tables have turned, and the roles have swapped. The water blurs your blood into a murky red, and you grind out your response.

“No can do, Chisuke.”

You don’t have the heart of gold Izuku does. The heart to understand, to hear him out or try to empathise. Maybe for other villains, but this was too close to home.

You move expertly, but with his wild knife swings that looked random but were deadly accurate, you’re forced on defence and the back-burner. Kacchan would be so mad because you aren’t moving well. Your defenses are sloppy and the rain makes everything worse. You feel like you’re back in year 1 again, still a fragile bird learning how to fly.

Even still, you’re wearing him down because of the puffs of his breaths that are ragged and rushed. Good, you think, just as the knife lunges too close.

Oh, shit–

There’s another stabbing, and you kick him off just as he grazes you with his knife. Blood drips from your cheek, and you bite your lip when the pain flares.

“That’s two!” He beams, knife dripping red.

“Back up ETA 5 minutes!” screams the voice in your ear.

I don’t have five minutes, shit I don’t even know if I have one! You want to scream, but you know you have to pull this out. Quickly surveying the field for something useful, you hastily grab a discarded metal rod from a broken fence just as he’s about to plunge the dagger into you. It collides with a clang, and now that you see his face up close, you see the myriad of emotions flashing across his face like a light show. 

You squeeze your eyes shut, and refuse to feel a thing.

No feelings, no pain, no feelings, no pain—

“You should be grateful,” He whispers, eyes wide with light. He genuinely believes that he’s helping you. “I see it in your eyes, that agony and sorrow…you want it all gone, and I can help you with that.”

Panic shoots up your legs like it’s water from a fire hydrant, but you hold firm. It’s difficult to see in the pouring rain, but his expression is too hard to miss. “You don’t have to hurt anymore, isn’t that great?” He says, rain falling like confetti on someone’s birthday.

“You don’t have to love anymore.”

You hate how deep his words cut.

Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think—

Pain explodes in your abdomen as your eyes widen. Chisuke deflects your rod with ease.

It isn’t his knife in your chest.

“Three.” He whispers, smile widening further.

There’s a small body behind you, one lithe and quick. The face doesn’t even look at you. “Got her, boss, just as you said.”

It isn’t the Whirlwind guy.

There was a third? You think helplessly, staggering as the knife is drawn from your chest. Maybe if you’d had been more observe, better prepared, you would have caught it.

But you weren’t and now, you’re paying the price

Not vital, of course not, he doesn’t want me to die—

Your hands burn with blisters, and when you look down, they’re coated in red.

“No—” You lunge forward, but your legs buckle beneath you like your body is nothing but lead.

The ringing in your ears blooms, along with the pitter-patter of the rain. “What did I tell you, Starlight?” He coos, fingers locking around the final vial.

“I don’t miss twice.”

—

Izuku arrives on the scene and sees you drenched in blood.

“Sir, please, I need your ID—oh! Deku—” The police officer stumbles over his words in surprise, apologising profusely, but his eyes never leave your frame.

His heart rate racks up, and he’s staggering to your lifeless body with his world falling apart around him. No.

He starts to run, slipping on wet tiles as he stumbles to your side, your blood tainting his hands.

“Starlight,” He whispers, checking your pulse in a desperate attempt to convince himself you are alive. It’s weak, but it’s all he gets and isn’t a cause for celebration. 

You don’t look fine at all.

Red soaks your entire body, battered up and bruised as your shoulder twists at an awkward angle.

“No, no, no…” He yanks his jacket off and covers the nasty gash on your stomach. There’s water running down his face, but it isn’t rain.

“She’s still alive,” calls a voice. Izuku whips his head to the source, and finds himself staring at smug blue. “It wouldn’t be any fun if Starlight dies from this.”

The whole world is painted red.

Chisuke looks at him, pearly whites glistening as the rain dampens his ragged hoodie further.

“Do you like my birthday present, Izuku?”

He may be in Quirk cancellation cuffs, being sentenced to a hell worse than his brother but he looks so happy.

“Why would you do this?” He whispers, pulling you closer. His voice is wobbly, soaked to the bone in rain. The last time he felt this defeated was when he lost Kacchan to the League over two years ago.

Look at this, a voice in his head whispers.

You’ve lost Starlight too.

“If you wanna say anything to her, you should do it now!” He yells from the police car, getting shoved in. “I hope you like my gift.”

Izuku’s breathing is all that he hears, as he stares desperately down at you and your wounds, your face, everything, everything, everything—

This is all my fault.

“Zuku…?” You cough, eyes wandering and searching for his. His heart jumpstarts to life. “Hey, don’t say anything,” He shushes, trying to project a smile. It’s too shaky to pass off as one.

Your eyes find his, and a lazy smile spreads across your face. “Hey, it’s you,” You whisper, eyes so bright they could be stars in the sky. “You’re Zuku.”

Raindrops splatter around you, diluting your blood and hiding your body. Izuku almost breaks on the spot. 

“Yeah, it’s me.” He says, holding you tightly in his arms. “I’m back, Starlight.”

The smile on your face doesn’t widen, but the tears that fall are painfully washed away. You’ve done such a good job all these years, always his ray of sunshine. Now, he’s seeing all your feelings suppressed underneath. 

“Welcome back,” You wheeze, as if it’s difficult to speak. It probably is.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

This isn’t how it was supposed to end.

Your trade is sufficient.

In return, I’ll return everything that was once yours.

Izuku shakes his head, a sob bubbling against his throat.

“I never meant for this to happen.”

You force out a laugh, and then wince in pain. Izuku misses your laughs. “I’m the one that got stabbed, so stop crying, you crybaby.”

“But you were never supposed to go through this.” He whispers, cradling you gently, but hugging you tight. “I’m so sorry, Starlight. For not knowing, for not trying to know, just…oh God, when I think about it, I want to slap myself so hard, get Kacchan to Howitzer Impact me a couple of times too when we get back. I didn’t know, and I hurt you so, so badly.” He inhales, looking around, eyes surveying his surroundings. Frustration builds, and his desperation grows. “Goddammit, where’s the ambulance? Why aren’t they here yet?”

Hurry up, save my Starlight.

“Zuku, it isn’t your fault,” You rasp. His first love is someone strong enough to move hearts on the daily, and has patience that spans as wide as the Pacific Ocean. His first love is someone extraordinary, even though no one will acknowledge it as deeply as Izuku will.

“Starlight—” Izuku chokes, watching your eyes go glassy. “I love you.”

I love you so much, please, please, please, please—

There, where the wind blows strong, and Izuku’s eyes spill tears, you reply with a breathtaking smile.

“I love you too.”

His lip trembles, and he does his best to shield you from the rain.

“Zuku?” You whisper, voice cracking like spoilt leather.

“I’m tired.”

The life is slipping from your eyes, and Izuku shuts his eyes and tries to find the right words to say. “I know, Starlight, just hang on a little longer. You can do it.”

Your voice is thick with a sob. “I don’t wanna stop loving you.”

There’s a fire that lights in Izuku, as he clenches your body tighter.

“Then don’t go,” He says, voice a whisper. “Stay with me.”

The tables have turned, and now it’s his turn to say those words. Please don’t go. Stay.

Your eyes shift upwards to the sky. Even through the rain, stars peek out from behind the clouds, mapping out a land unknown.

“The stars,” You rasp. “They’re so beautiful tonight.”

Izuku’s laugh is endearing, clogged up with snot. “They are. You’re prettier, though.”

You look at him, eyes pearling with tears. “I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” You heave, eyes ever-gentle and love everlasting. “But it’s so nice to see you again.” You murmur, breath shaky.

“ ‘m love you, Zuku,” you whispers, breath floating out from your lips like an angle from above. Your eyes shut, and you don’t reopen them to meet his gaze.

The sobs that are jamming in his throat bubble over, and he weeps, and cries and screams because you were never meant to be coated in red like this.

Your trade is sufficient.

In return, I’ll return everything that was once yours.

“Why?” he wails miserably.

Why did I have to lose you to find me?

—

Your heart beats steadily, as someone screams in the background.

And then all of a sudden, a rope snaps.

A torch snuffs out, and plunges the world into darkness.

—

The trip back to U.A is a beaten path. It’s 2 buses from the Central Hospital and a hundred metres from the school entrance. You open the double doors to dorms, only to be bombarded by your classmates whispering sentiments of worry and concern.

“Oh, Y/n, thank God you’re okay!” Ochaco fusses over you like a second mom, and the others all give you relieved smiles and offers to help you catch up with homework.

There’s a boy edging the group, barely inside your peripheral. He’s a boy with green eyes and a heart made of gold, someone you’re supposed to care for very, very deeply. Your mouth opens as you lock eyes with him, drawing up feelings that you knew were once your entire world.

You draw a blank, and grasp at nothing.

“Welcome back,” Izuku says quietly. You look…better, albeit after being brutally stabbed. Your eye bags are slowly disappearing, and you look lighter than you had ever been before.

Your mouth shifts upwards to a smile, and it feels genuine for the first time in a long time.

“Yeah,” You say, giving him a half smile.

Ochaco drags you over to the couch and distracts you with food. You hold his eye contact for a moment, before breaking it in favour of food.

Huh, you wonder, the weight of love dispersing into the soil down, down below.

What a strange, foolish person I was, falling in love with him.

[yizhou-time]

HAECHAN’S BROKEN MELODY: AUTOPILOT

NCT DREAM’S BROKEN MELODIES

“Ah! There she is!” Hyunji, a girl you share English class with, shouts loud enough for most of the people in the hallway to hear, you’ve never spoken to her so you frown in confusion when she calls out your entry. No one had ever really looked at you besides when people had accidentally knocked your belongings out of your hands before quickly helping you pick them up or when Jocks had asked you for help studying (it ended up being you doing their homework and handing it in for them) so they could stay in their sport.

Hyunji let’s put a laugh as if you had said the funniest joke ever heard. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me?!” Your frown deepens as other students join in her laughing. “You’re kidding me, right?!” She continues to laugh, lightly hitting her friends who are also laughing with her. “Stalking our top guy? What’s next? You’re sleeping with him?”

Your eyes widen. Your senses heighten. All the colour drains from your face. “What?” You say, more to yourself than Hyunji but her laughing calms and she provides you an explanation.

She takes a deep breath and composes herself, a smile still present on her face. “You don’t need to pretend, we saw the pictures he took and the ones 23 and 42 took separately. You aren’t sneaky!” She starts to laugh again.

You drop your head down and walk through the hall as fast as you could, you would usually put your books in your locker but this time you wouldn’t risk it. Any questioning would make you cry or scream or both. The amount of eyes on you made you feel so small, like you shouldn’t be here. The sound of laughing made your ears ring.

How could any of this happen? Where did this rumour even spring from? This baseless rumour. Your grip on the books in your hands made your knuckles turn white.

The pace of your walking stayed the same as you made your way into the classroom, all eyes were on your but you kept your eyes set on your desk trying to tune everything out. The books you had landed hard on your desk and caused your peers to look away from you.

Everyone and everything stayed tuned out and turned away until the end of your lesson. Of course there was the odd whisper here and there but it was quickly put to an end when you met eyes with the people talking.

The bell rang, taking you out of your daze. You picked up your bag and placed it on your lap. Opening the zip you looked down at the keychain linked to it. A brown teddy bear in a sitting position with a red heart in the middle of its torso, it had a orange outline with and orange chain. Silently you ripped it off and stuffed it in your pocket, ready to return it whenever you saw that traitor next.

Your thoughts are interrupted by your teacher. “Y/N, could you stay behi-”

“I’m fine, thank you though.” You blankly reply, swinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way to the cafeteria.

The staring and whispering continued. The confidence you had built up in the classroom gradually disappeared as the noises got louder. The rumours had developed over a couple of hours and they were making you out to be crazy.

Slowly your walking comes to a halt and you turn around. You lifted your head up, eyes wandering to each person trying to recognise their faces and figure out if they know you or Haechan or have even spoken to you. Their beady eyes staring right back and still talking

“Who even said anything?” You said quietly however the talking continued, everything continued as if you weren’t there besides the fact they were talking about you. Doubting anyone heard you, you turned on your heel and continued to where you were going.

If he wasn’t in the cafeteria then you weren’t sure where he would be but even if he wasn’t there you could at least confront Chenle, who was constantly brutally honest with you, or Mark, who would tell you where Haechan was.

One voice could be heard over everyone else’s in the hall. Giggles and mumbles could be heard here and there but that one voice stuck out. The one voice that sung you to sleep. The one voice that told you you were beautiful, you were loved. It was like honey, it was addictive. Instead of telling you how much he loved you he was telling lies.

“And honestly I don’t know what’s wr-” Once again, everyone was looking at you and it was starting to get unbearable. Your breathing increased and you looked down to your pocket to retrieve the keychain your partner had originally gifted to you. Staring at it you considered pocketing it once more just to remind you that he did love you once. You know he did, he would have had to because you know him. Although you don’t know this new him you knew who he was. More than anything he was respectful, that’s why it took you so long to be together which is why this all stung a little more than it should.

Taking a deep breath you walk over to the table people were crowding. “Take it.” You say sticking your hand out to Haechan, the keychain placed in the middle of your palm. He stared at you and the gift, he went back and forth for a few moments before he took it. You retract your hand before he even gets a chance to grab it and say anything to you. “It was nice.” Lips in a thin line you nod at him, tears building up in your eyes.

“I’ll… I’ll leave you alone now. I’m sorry if you felt that I was being weird with you or even stalking. You won’t see me from now on.” Haechan stood up from his seat at the table, he couldn’t break his façade but he couldn’t see you cry. Not because of him. Not again. “I’ll go now.”

“Y/N.” You hear someone call, probably Jaemin going by the stern voice, but you ignore it and find a way out. Before you’re even out of the hall you can hear Haechan pick up where he left off.

Jaemin tailed behind you as you navigated the crowded halls. The stares, the voices, the laughing and the lies made you feel sick. Your heart dropped and there was a hole in your stomach. The tears you had held in originally began to fall. There was no going back now. You needed to please

“Look, it was me.” He races behind you. “We argued, he called me a loser, I called him a coward, he said he wasn’t and that he could prove it, I put the pictures on the school board and Jeno cropped Haechan out of his and posted them. I really didn’t think he would do this.” He tried to explain not even knowing I’d you’re listening to him or not. He doesn’t blame you if you aren’t but he so badly wants you to. As he talked he crashed into other students, not even apologising, too focused to getting through to you.

You push the entrance door open and taking your open out of your pocket. “I know it’s all my fault.” He finally caught up and stood next to you, slightly out of breath.

Wiping your tears and nose you finally replied to him. “Doesn’t matter. He lied. He could have owned up to it but he didn’t. Now I look worse than I already did and he looks so cool.” You let out a sarcastic laugh.

Jaemin check his pockets, presumably for a tissue but doesn’t find one and opts to use his sleeve to wipe your tears. The shirt material was soft and comforting, something you wanted to feel since Hyunji mentioned the rumours.

“I can call Haechan over… maybe talking it out with him will help, hm?” He offers ever so softly, moving his hand from your face to your shoulder closest to him and giving it a comforting pat.

“This isn’t how it should be Jaemin. You’re here with me, trying to make me feel better, when you should be in there.” You gesture back to the school. “I just want to go home.” Pushing off his hand you place each of your own on your backpack straps and time to him.

You turn to face him, “It was really nice meeting you Jaemin.” Smiling at him through tears you explain further when you see him frown in confusion much like you had earlier. “If people find out that I didn’t get the scholarship because I was smart and because Haechan’s parents think I’m nice it’s game over. We’ve been hiding us for over a year and he’s already spinning lies. I’m not doing it, I can’t.”

He reaches his hand out to you but you move back. “It was a shame we met this way because I think you’re a lovely guy. See you whenever, 42.” He steps forward to try and catch your arm but you had already turned away heading out the school’s campus.

“Let me in, please!” You hear a voice shout, followed with a bang on your front door. Once again you ignore it and continue to cut vegetables, it goes through one ear and out the other. You’ve heard enough from him today.

When you came home you headed straight upstairs, flying past your parents who didn’t have time to question you. They gave each other an understanding look assuming you weren’t feeling it today before continuing as they were, packing to go back to work after their lunch break.

Slamming your bedroom door after you, you look around the space. He was everywhere. The large teddy bear on your bed, photos of the two of you, his clothes he left from previous nights with his excuse being that he’ll be back soon so it would be a waste of energy taking them, you even had the matching pyjamas he got the pair of you out on your bed ready in case he wanted to stay tonight because he usually did on a Wednesday night.

You move to the desk in the corner of your room, as you sit down a picture of him stares back at you. It was your 3rd date, one he insisted you go on. A picnic in the hills. He went out and got a picnic blanket as well as made all the food himself, he needed to prove how serious he was about you and if doing everything himself proved that he would do it. Your previous dates had been fancy food at his house made by his chef but you told him you had to see Donghyuck, not Haechan, on your next date or you wouldn’t even entertain the thought of being with him.

The sky was clear and the sun was a warm yellow, it landed on his face perfectly as it highlighted his honey like skin while also showing each mole perfectly. It was a natural photo too, he was talking about Star Wars while looking off into the distance. With his eyes away you pulled your phone up from your lap and took the photo. He didn’t even know about it until a few months later when you first let him in your room and he saw it placed neatly on the desk.

You glare at the photo in the frame and pull it down so you couldn’t see it anymore, you’re sure the glass smashed. Glass being the least of your worried you opened your phone to check the school’s notice board, there it all was. Jaemin’s post.

Pictures of you either at Haechan’s house or where Haechan had been. Most of them having him cropped out to make it look like you’re trailing him. Some of the photos were ones he had taken himself, you know because he would send them to you and tell you how pretty you looked. The pictures were followed with one caption, ‘Haechan knows Y/N, hm?’

Choi Hyunji replied: I knew she was strange! She completely blew me off when we first spoke!

Kim Ara replied: Loads of people like him but going this far? Come on!

Lee Jeno replied: Here’s more >> [3 Attachments]

Yoo Jimin replied: Saw Ara reply, didn’t she do the same in middle school?

Han Bomin replied: She used to watch our practice, I know she was waiting for me because of tutoring but she probably used the time to see him.

Kim Doyoung replied: Stalker! Haechan said he’d tell us as lunch, come join!!!!!!

You scrunched your nose rethinking the comments on the bulletin post, completely ignoring the fist still pounding on your front door. “I won’t be more than five minutes, just let me explain!” The man on the other side continued to beg.

Calmly you placed down the knife and pushed the cutting board back. You exit the kitchen and stand behind the door.

“Who is it?” You ask, you know who it is.

“Haechan.” The door opens and he sees you there in all your beauty. Even with bloodshot eyes and a red face you were still so beautiful to him, so beautiful he could kiss you right then and there.

“It’s me, please just let me in.” He asks once more.

“Sorry, I don’t know a Haechan. You might have the wrong house.” You give a small smile before closing the door.

Not wanting to lose his only chance he places his foot in the way to make you open it once more. Thinking on his feet he replies “What about a Donghyuck? Do you know a Donghyuck?”

You think for a moment before responding. “I did, once.” You stare at him, expecting a fast and witty response however you get nothing.

He clears his throat after a moment, he was going to have to play your game. “I have a message to pass on, from Donghyuck.”

He moves his foot out from the door and stands up straight.

“He thinks you’re it for him, that there’s no one else he’d rather be with. He’s sorry that he made you cry today and he’s sorry you’ve cried because of him before. He behaved that way because he thought of his reputation first which I have since beat him up for.” He hears you giggle and takes this as a good sign and carry’s on. “He thought you wouldn’t understand what it’s like being where he is and that you would hurt him, but you’re so in love with him that we both know you wouldn’t do that to him.”

Tears well up in your eyes, he wants to punch himself for making you sad again. “He’s sorry he lied. After talking to his other friend Jaemin he came to the conclusion that you’re the best thing that ever happened to him and he now knows that what he did has made you have second thoughts about even being here and for that he apologises. He couldn’t come here because he is a coward, Donghyuck is a coward.”

Silence falls over both of you as he looks at you lovingly while you stare longingly into the distance. Your hand falls from the door handle and you put both of them together.

“I didn’t think Donghyuck would ever hurt my feelings. He was so special to me. He was it for me as well, we were supposed to be together forever. I constantly ran after him even though I knew I would get hurt. Now I have.” Haechan steps in the doorway and wipes your now falling tears. “I’ve never been so hurt before, I thought he loved me you know.”

You finally meet his eyes and he wishes you didn’t. What had he done? The pain in your eyes made his heart wrench and his body physically hurt, he could only imagine how you were feeling right now.

“I thought I had someone that made me feel special, after all the years of people pushing me away I thought Donghyuck would make me feel like the most special person on the planet.” You take his hands off your face carefully and hold them in your own. The look in your eyes is too much for the boy across from you and he pulls you in for a hug.

He begins to stroke your hair while the other arm rests on your waist, pulling you into him. You do the same, circling both on your arms around his waist as you silently cry. “I know he loves you and all he wants is for you to feel that special.” He tries to soothe your cries.

“No he doesn’t. He embarrassed me, he lied about me, he hurt me Haechan.” You grip the back of his shirt, unsure as to why but you did it regardless. “He doesn’t know what it’s like to be poked fun at, he doesn’t have to deal with that and then he makes up lies about me to make it worse.”

You sob loudly and it squeezes his heart more. “Did you tell him people poked fun at you?” How much were you keeping from him?

“No, he wouldn’t do anything about it anyway. He couldn’t.” No, he could, he just wouldn’t and he knew that.

“It was all too good to be true, I should have said no from the start.” Haechan’s stroking slows and eventually comes to a halt upon realising what you meant. You had made him work so hard because you weren’t sure if he was serious and now you wished you said no. It was almost like you knew he would end up hurting you and that made him want to cry himself.

He lets go of you and you do the same, his own tears had began to well up on his eyes, his nose was turning red which was a clear sign he was going to cry. “What? You mean that?” He manages to get out.

“I don’t know him anymore. He’s not… Donghyuck, he’s just Haechan. I don’t like Haechan, I like Donghyuck. Haechan thinks he’s a hot shot, Donghyuck thinks he should be the little spoon regardless of how tall he is.” You sniffle a laugh and then wipe your hands on your pyjama bottoms.

“I think you should go, Haechan.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I think I should stay.”

“I don’t like you Haechan, I told you that.”

“I love you.”

The room is silent again and he walks past you, shutting the front door behind himself.

“Whether you think I’m Haechan or Donghyuck, that doesn’t matter, I love you.”

“Then why did you lie?” Ouch. He can’t come back from that because it’s the truth. “Hearing you and everyone lie about me and the way I am made me feel physically sick.”

“Y/N lo-”

“You don’t get to come here and say that you love me after the things you said today. If you were as serious about me as you say you are you wouldn’t have.”

“But I am!” He turns to you and points at you. “I love you! More than I love myself and every single day I think about what I’m supposed to do when people find out about us! I swore to Jaemin I would say something and I didn’t, ok?!”

You push his hand away and turn away from him “I didn’t ask if you loved me or what you would do when people find out about us, I asked why you lied?”

He quietly walks towards you and hugs you from behind, placing a kiss on the top of your head then your temple then your cheek and resting his chin on your shoulder. It’s a sweet action with good intentions only however the situation makes it far from sweet, it makes it apologetic and pitiful.

He leans his head to the side to lean against your own. “I have no excuse and for that I’m sorry.” You nod, not trusting your words. “I have no excuse for the way I behaved today, I don’t ever want to hurt you and you know that.” He presses a kiss onto your shoulder and stays there.

“Can we not see each other anymore? Please? It’s not just today and you know that. We aren’t good for each other right now, my love.” He lets you go as his hands fall and you turn around to face him once again. Placing both of your hands on his cheeks you bring him in and place a soft hiss on his forehead, it lasts for a while and Haechan think this may be your last.

He brings hands to rest on your wrists, still looking at you with so much love.

“You hurt me in so many ways, but today just the most. I hope you can understand where this is coming from.” He silently nods. “I’ll see you around in a few days or so, you’ll know I’m safe like you used to. I just can’t put myself through this anymore, you know that.”

“Just because I’m not fighting now doesn’t mean I won’t be, I’ll keep fighting and waiting.” He responds determined.

“You should go before my parents get back, I need to make them dinner.” Haechan shakes his head and holds onto you tightly.

If he stayed any longer he’d only hurt you more than he already had over the past few months and especially today. “It’ll all be the same, we just won’t see each other outside of school. You really have to go now though, Hyuck.”

There is was. Hyuck. He so badly wanted you to call him that tonight but not now.

Finally, he nods. You let go of his cheeks and he lets go of your wrists. The pair of you stare at each other for what seems like hours just trying to understand how the other person feels but you just can’t, too consumed in your own hurt. Maybe it was better if you didn’t understand each other right now, that way you wouldn’t have to live with knowing why he lied or why you left him.

Haechan hesitantly walks back to the front door and he remembers his first time coming through it, how happy you were to finally be allowed to have him at your house. He wants to smile at the memory but he can’t, he’ll never know if he’ll come back through it and that hurts him more than anything else. He wanted to build a home with you the way your parents did but the thought of never knowing if you’ll be waiting for him in that home makes this all sting a bit more.

“I love you too.” You whisper. He turns around to see you right behind him. “You said you love me, I love you too.” He kisses the crown of your head before quickly making his exit, the door shutting with a soft click behind him.

Immediately he hears you sob and he stops on your porch to collect himself. Every time he had broken himself you would spend hours trying to put each piece back together and hold it in place however he couldn’t do the same with you. He was the one chipping off pieces overtime and now you’re ere left with barely anything. Now he had to go and find them, bring them back to you and hold it all together himself because if he doesn’t he’s not sure what he’ll do.

Taglist (reply to masterlist post to join): @sukistrawberry @lovesuhng @shwizhies @niinjo @renjunoya @carelessshootanonymous @hyuckissed @funkygoose @fymine @asteriaskingdom

[happyely2]

Pairing: Portuguese D. Ace x Fem!Reader

Rating: 18+ | The rating will be red this time, so if you are a minor skip this reading or highlight your age in your bio.| sex scenes, cuddles, and much more very explicit.

Summary: 31 prompts for 31 days of October. Life on Moby Dick is always hectic and has become more so since Ace boarded this ship and became part of the family.

✒️Prompts taken from the contest (even if I don't participate) organized by the Italian Fanwriter page. I only translated the prompts into English, I hope you like it.✒️

🌊Writober PumpSea🌊 #day 2 - Stump

The newspaper had arrived as usual early in the morning and had been dropped onto the main deck.

"They upgraded the new kids sizes!" Halta had said as he quickly entered the dining room with the new wanted posters.

In a short time the bets had already started.

"Who is this straw hat?" Satch looked at the poster of a new novel that roamed the northern sea.

"Did you say straw hat?" You asked, taking the poster from Satch’s hand and looking carefully at it, a straw hair, a thirty-two-tooth smile you knew well, a wound under your left eye. That was Luffy, Ace’s younger brother.

"ACEEEE! Your brother just got a new bounty!" You shouted to get the attention of the guy who had just entered the kitchen. You knew how proud Ace was of his little brother.

"I can’t believe it! The wretch did it in the end." Ace said, taking the bounty you gave him and smiling at you. Yeah, even if they weren’t blood brothers, that smile was the same.

"Sooner or later you’re gonna have to introduce me to all of you, brother." You said by leaving a kiss on his naked shoulder. Ace had started spinning shirtless, partly because of the amount of muscle he had put on at that time by training with the other commanders.

"I hope as soon as possible, you two will get along just fine." Ace said kissing you on the forehead.

"Avoid them early in the morning or do them in private." Satch threw himself on you two, holding you warmly and Ace with a little more strength.

He hadn’t gotten used to the idea of you two. Or rather, she still didn’t want to accept the fact that her little sister had found a boyfriend and had grown up as a woman.

"Satch!" You both called him and laughed at each other.

"Little sister! You must come here now!" The voice of one of Dad’s nurses distracted you for a moment and allowed you to remember the commitment you made with them.

"I have to go, see you at lunch, Ace." You said by getting out of Satch’s grips and kissing Ace on the lips, you went to the nurses to help them with the inventory for the medicine.

"See you after Love." Ace said earning an increase in strength in Satch’s iron grip.

"What did you do Ace! Before he greeted me too, now only you exist!" Satch was playing the exasperated, overprotective older brother.

"Satch isn’t just our little sister anymore, she’s Ace now." Izo had slapped him on the shoulder and laughed, he was the most normal of all.

"ACE!" But Ace had turned into a flame and slipped away, had taken a fast sandwich and had gone out at great strides: "I’m going to show Dad the size of Luffy." and he had gone away among the other companions.

"These young people of today."

"Satch we all know that you want to go back to their age stop." Marco had said by hitting the chef with the newspaper. The room was soon filled with laughter over laughter.

The hours had passed quickly and you the girls had decided to take a short break with the tea that you love brought a few minutes before.

"Today I did not have time to read the newspaper, have you seen the photos?"

"What photos?" You asked closing the notebook of your notes. You had to make a large supply of medicines at the next landing.

"Shanks the Red! Look here, little sister." His size had arrived in front of you and you couldn’t help but say that the photographer in question had been very good at capturing the close-up of Shanks' face.

"There’s a whole picture in the paper."

All the girls rushed to see him and soon began to sigh.

"Have you seen what a man he is?!"

"The scar looks great on him! When I would give to kiss him."

"Just kiss her? Honey, I could do anything with this man."

And then the comments started to arrive, you were used to it and you weren’t shocked.

"But the L rule? This man absolutely spoils it!"

"Of course."

L rule? Now what were they inventing at that time? Your sisters were pretty gossip about sex and most things and you had learned by listening to them.

"Sis, what do you think?"

"Me? Hmm, Shanks is a handsome, mature man, maybe he can do a lot of things... even though he’s missing an arm." You answered by looking at the photo. No, he wasn’t ugly at all, he was handsome and dangerous, he was still an emperor.

Maybe you shouldn’t have made such a strong comment, also because the girls had gone crazy and you got caught between gossip and shrieks of euphoria for that detail of the missing arm that generated allusion without any censorship for all the time that the newspaper was opened and for every photo that came from there to little, All this lasted until lunchtime when you finally got out because you had your date with Ace.

And there too there were comments. You would have wanted to kill them for what they told you, they needed a man in their life, a good one to satisfy them to avoid things like that.

You wouldn’t have expected, as you walked, to be grabbed by the arm and brought into Ace’s room.

Ace had just kidnapped you and shut your mouth, his look didn’t promise anything good, he seemed to be pissed.

God, what happened? What did Satch do? Did he say too much?

You tried to say something, but Ace’s hand was pressing on your lips, and what came out was just a bunch of wadding sounds.

"Why is that?" she asked, looking straight into your eyes.

What the hell he was talking about.

"I heard you with Dad’s nurses." He then said by locking the door behind you and releasing your mouth but not the arms that were anchored to the door.

"Ace what do you want..." You realized shortly after what Ace was talking about and you were speechless.

You did not expect to see Ace so jealous, in short, everyone knows that Shanks is a big deal and you spontaneously said it while chatting with other nurses of Dad (they also gave you right) Now you find yourself on the wall with your hands pinned over you by Ace: "So that guy with his Stump could give you the same pleasure that I give you?"

Fuck.

He’s jealous as hell.

"What are you thinking, Ace!" You said trying to free yourself. Or you would have fixed it properly, starting from those soft cheeks that he found himself, as he dared only think that you would bang Shanks the red, He could be your real biological father for how long you deferred age had.

Ace weighed you down and carried you on his bed, tying your hands with his red pearl necklace. If you wanted to stop him, you could have freed yourself easily, that’s what he wanted to tell you with his gesture.

"Ace... Honey listen, we were just chatting with the girls. It’s obvious that I prefer making love to you than to Shanks!" You told him to jump off the mattress and face him right in the eye.

"Sorry, and that... I overheard the comments and I don’t know what got into me." In the end, Ace wasn’t angry, like he could be with you, but he felt such jealousy while you were talking about the emperor and he got a little carried away.

You smiled at him, rubbing his nose with his and he kissed you passionately until brought back on the mattress.

"But still, I can give you more pleasure than that." It had become a matter of principle.

You laughed softly while you hooked your legs to his and kissed him again.

"I don’t know, why don’t you show me?" You deliberately provoked him, because you liked his possessive and dominant side in some situations, but you loved his sweet and passionate side.

Ace took the challenge on the fly, grinning and starting to kiss your neck, biting a little bit harder into the soft skin and leaving a showy mark on your white neck. Her hands slipped on your blouse that was opened without too much ceremony revealing the swimsuit that you were wearing as a bra that day, a piece with two small triangles that did not cover even a quarter of your busty breasts.

Ace looked at you with a slightly more perverted smirk and you brushed against him in response.

"Did you have an appointment with someone?" He whispered to you in your ear, her warm breath gave you little chills of pleasure.

"Who knows, maybe you, maybe not." You answered by holding back a groan when her hand pulled off a triangle of your costume to tightly squeeze the breasts underneath it. You found yourself standing on the side with your hands still tied by the necklace, staring at the bedroom door while Ace was behind you.

You settled back with your hips and felt his presence touching your butt and a groan came out of your lips.

God, he was hard and big.

Ace smiled at you as he bit your neck and another groan left your lips, he was playing dirty, so dirty because he went to get your sensitive points.

"Aceee..." His name was the only thing you could say when you heard her never touch your breasts and play with them. Your boobs were taken, squeezed, lifted, rubbed against her rough palms, and not to mention her nipples, Ace knew they were your weak spot, so weak.

He had pinched them a little with his fingertips and they had become hard in a short time, you needed more attention but they were slow to arrive.

You protested in the kiss he gave you by turning your neck and slightly pulling your hair.

And then he went down to kiss your breasts and other moans came out of your mouth when he started sucking one nipple hard and squeezing the other between the middle finger and index finger while his other hand was going down to your shorts to get him out of the way.

You pulled him by the hair to cut yourself some slack, but Ace bit you harder, leaving his teeth marks around your reddened halo.

A trickle of saliva still connected it to your nipple.

"You’re a brat." You said pulling his hair again, with your hands stuck, you couldn’t do anything else, you could only scratch his back.

"You provoke me so much love, you need to be punished for talking about another man and not just me." Jealous, he was jealous of you and your thoughts.

He kissed you thoughtfully as his pants and boxers reached your clothing on the ground, along with your shoes.

And now you’re standing there, under him in just a costume and a blouse that won’t last much longer, while his erection is pressing against your entrance.

And Ace at that point took more time to act, going down with your fingertips along your hips and scratching and biting them properly, until you get to the laces of the white costume you were wearing.

You were soaked you could see it from the stain that had been created and on which his cock pressed hard.

"Aceeee...." You called his name again eager to continue.

Your fiancé smiled devilishly as he turned you upside down, you ended up on your belly, your ass on deck, and his hands wandering on your ass and your back.

"Who has only one arm could do this?" He asked you while with one hand he squeezed your breast and with the other he penetrated you to prepare. You saw and stars at that time and your scream of pleasure was the best answer for Ace, he prepared you for a while, until he established that you were quite lubed up.

"I can go on or you can’t go on anymore." He asked, kissing your shoulder and bringing your arm to support your pelvis. You haven’t done it that way yet.

"I can go on." You responded by rubbing your sex on his erection and snatching a moan of pleasure, that was your own little victory.

And then Ace didn’t hesitate, he squeezed your hips hard, and he came in with one push in you.

You squeezed the sheets until your fingers whitened so as not to scream too loud and crash half the ship into your cabin.

Ace kissed your back, your shoulders, your neck and rubbed you on your clitoris to make you feel better so you could get used to him. It burned worse than before, maybe because it was a new pose that allowed him to touch deeper points that you didn’t even know you had.

"Can I?" He asked you, whispering in your ear, and then his tender side emerged again to lull and cuddle you.

You nodded by pushing your hips back against him and biting the pillow because your notes had touched shades you didn’t think you would reach. Ace supported you by starting to move slowly within you, at a slow pace to allow you to get used to it, he held you by the right side, while with his left hand he crept back in and your folds to give you more pleasure.

You started to indulge him after a while when your inner walls got better used to his presence and his urges started to get deeper and more confused.

You were dangerously close to the edge, you could feel it from his heartbeat and how Ace had bent over you, resting his chin on your shoulder and pushing deeper and deeper.

"Only you can give me a pleasure like this." You whispered in his ear when the last push came that allowed you to come together.

The bed was a mess of displaced blankets and your liquids, you stayed in that position for a while, until you found a minimum of strength and lucidity. Ace separated from you, getting rid of his column and putting it back around his neck, drew you into a warm, sweaty hug, getting rid of your now-ruined shirt and swimsuit.

And Ace had started to pamper you like only he could, caresses, scratches, little kisses on the skin.

You smeared yourself on him at one point, you on top and he on the bottom and started playing with his rebellious ebony clumps.

"Ace what the L rule?" You asked out of the blue.

"You really don’t know?" Ace was a bit surprised because he knew that the old man’s nurses were gossips to death and laughed heartily as he began to explain that infamous rule: "Those who are tall have small, while those who are short are very gifted." He explained by showing you the two ways of getting L with index and thumb.

"Then you dispelled the myth." You said as you grabbed his hand and kissed him.

Your Ace turned red for that statement but at the same time he was struck by a rush of pride that prompted him to kiss you again.

You both laughed, cuddling a little bit more, until you both remembered lunch with everyone else.

"Oh my God, we’re not gonna be okay today." You said jumping in the air and running into Ace’s bathroom to check for bites and hickeys, that was a lot.

"We could always sneak into the kitchen and get food on the sly." Ace said as he reached out and grabbed his hips.

Two shots to the door made you turn, before this was opened by a kick of Satch.

Or if you were dead.

"So it’s lunch time and we all eat together!" The cook said, looking at you and closing the door a second later, "Have the decency to cover yourself, not to keep us waiting and to be a little more discreet."

And nothing would save you from the gossip you thought while you were quickly recovering clothes to wear from Ace’s closet.

"Little sister but that..."

"Izo please it’s not the time." You told your brother you could cover your neck with your hair.

"We hadn’t seen Ace in a shirt in a long time." The long black-haired man whispered to you, bringing a hand to chuckle, while Ace took yours to calm you down. Satch’s screams were heard all over the ship.

And the whole thing had happened by a simple allusion to a stump, you thought while crossing the threshold of the dining room as if nothing had happened.

[dollywheeler]

October 4th, 1996

Dear diary,

We survived the night!

At first, when Mike opened the door for us, it was as awkward and uncomfortable as I’d feared. Mike was clearly nervous, which I found stranger than mom responding in kind, seemingly clutching to basic courtesy and manners as they landed on polite chatter about the weather. As if it’s ever anything other than dreadful in the beginning of fall.

I understand why mom was nervous, knew she wanted tonight to go well, but Mike was the one in control - he shouldn’t have been just as anxious, worrying about mom’s opinion. He’d already proven that he is capable of burning every bridge if he has to.

I stayed quiet as we crossed the threshold; I didn’t want to fall into the same pretense of everything being normal, and wouldn't have known what to say even if I did. Instead, I distracted myself by looking at the decor as Mike lead us further into the house. I’d never known there to be any developments in the neighborhood, but the house had clearly been a newer built than I’d expected. If I’d have to guess, I’d say late seventies, judging by the wide spaces and high ceilings. There was no divide between the entrance hall and the living room to the left, a set of stairs against the right wall climbing up to a second floor landing that overlooked the space beneath. The ceiling above the entrance and living room was made up of glass, as was visible from the street, the skylight tilting up until it meets the roof above the second floor. I had to admit it must look lovely during the day - or with the lights out at night - though I wouldn't want to be the one cleaning them.

The floor-to-ceiling windows facing the streets were partially covered by shrubbery and had tasteful white curtains that were left open for now, the glass reflecting the scene back to them and somehow making the lighting appear more cosy.

The furniture was minimalistic - clean wooden lines and modern sofas fitting the style of the house itself - and though the space was clean now, I could tell it's usually covered in clutter. The strip of wall that somewhat separated the hallway from the lounge was covered in picture frames, some holding snapshots of Mike’s time in Chicago, others showcasing Will’s artwork. I even spotted some old drawings above the fireplace that surely had to be from when they were kids. The outside wall was taken up by massive wooden shelves, covered in books and knick-knacks. It seemed empty now, but I’m pretty sure that’s due to the recent move, free surfaces they intended to fill up over the years to come.

The lounge, where Will met us with drinks and told us to sit down, was in the same room as the dining table, and in the back I could see a corner that led to the kitchen. though the kitchen itself was out of sight, I could see a small breakfast nook in the corner. Just like everything else, it was surprisingly cosy and intimate.

It seriously makes me wonder how long they intend to live there. It seemed surprisingly put together for a bachelor pad. Then again, not everything is like the movies, so I might just have to readjust my assumptions.

I didn't really tune in for most of the conversation, which was as awkward and stilted as I'd expected. Mom kept asking questions, and Mike kept answering almost reluctantly, as if he was seriously struggling to respond to to the most basic of inquiries about he and Will had been up to in Chicago. Honestly, one should rethink ever giving him an English diploma if he has this much trouble stringing a sentence together.

Will cut in a few times with updates on his family, which was a lot less awkward because mom had been keeping up with Mrs. Byers and thus could more easily contribute to the conversation. It was quite strange, even as we actually sat down at the table and they started directing more questions at me.

Surprisingly, Mike had actually cooked himself. Mom was quick to reassure him the food was good and the house was nice and all of that but it felt... weird, somehow. I didn't feel natural, even though she definitely wasn't lying, like she was afraid to say anything less. Meanwhile, Mike just looked more tense with every comment, as if he could sense it too. Will seemed to be the only one even the slightest bit relaxed, being quick to pick up conversation when either Mike or mom got stuck, trying to smoothe over the awkwardness to the best of his abilities. They kept bringing the conversation back to me, asking about school and friends and hobbies, but whenever mom and I tried to ask about them, it got weird again, dodging questions and dancing around the subject.

By the time we finished the main course I needed a break - couldn't stomach the weird energy anymore. So when Will and Mike started clearing the table, I got up and started wandering around. There were French doors made of dark wood near the kitchen that lead into a sun room, clearly used as a more informal living room. there were couches set up in the corner facing the giant floor-to-ceiling windows, tilted skylights similar to the ones at the front of the house allowing natural light to fill the space.

I would have bought the house just for this room alone - Will had set up an easel in the corner where two glass-lined walls met. In the corner away from the windows, a desk was set up cluttered with papers, and folders with white corners haphazardly sticking out, a typewriter stored on the floor next to it.

More so than the rest of the house, I could imagine them living here, sharing the space on lazy Saturdays or late Sunday mornings. Hell, I could take the images from when I was five, of Mike and his party set out around the coffee table in the basement, and implant them into this room, loud and boisterous and warm.

At least in this room the smell of teen-boy could be more easily aired out.

The one thing out of a place, which both surprised and excited me to see, was a shiny acoustic guitar standing next to the couch. It was new, clearly no more than a year or two old. I picked it up and it definitely felt smoother and more expensive than the one the Stevenson's had, and more importantly, it was actually tuned correctly.

"Do you play?" Mike asked, stepping into the room right as I had tried the first few chords, making me jump. He looked amused, though there was an edge of surprise or confusion on his face.

"Do you?" I fired back, because honestly I wouldn't have thought in a million years that Mike could play as much as the triangle, if anything. I wouldn't even have thought him capable of fine motor functions in general.

"Yeah, sort of," Mike shrugged, stepping further into the room and sinking down on the sofa. He held out his hand and I reluctantly handed the guitar to him.

He started playing, and it took me a moment to recognise it as Hey Jude from The Beatles. I raised my eyebrow at him, because as much as the song was a bit of a cliché choice, he was good. He stopped after the first chorus, and held the guitar out for me. I would have thought it a challenge, but instead he just looked genuinely curious to see me try.

I caved and sat down next to him, trying not to be nervous because last time I'd only managed to get to the first verse without making any mistakes. I was quite pleased with myself once I was done, and Mike's look was thoughtful even as he was smiling.

"I know that song, but-"

"Pixies," Will said from the doorway, and we both turned to look at him in surprise. "See, Mike, why am I not surprised your little sister has better taste in music than you?"

I couldn’t help but preen at the praise - I know it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t. Music is an opinion, and Will’s shouldn’t matter to me at all, and yet it felt nice to be complimented on it, as if I’d passed some kind of test. Interestingly, Mike didn't argue, just squinting his eyes at Will and sticking his tongue out like a child.

"To be fair, I've also been influenced by Jonathan," I reasoned, and told them about how Jonathan always makes me a Mixtape when Nancy and him visit. Where is my mind? was on the last one he brought when they visited in June, and just yesterday mom had picked up the new Oasis tape that Jonathan had pre-ordered for me as a late birthday present.

Will was immediately interested, coming over to sit next to Mike as he asked about my favorite song, so I let myself gush about how much I love Champagne Supernova - seriously, it's ridiculous. I've been listening to it on repeat ever since I got my hands on it.

I told Will I'd make a copy for him if he wanted, which he eagerly agreed to, but the conversation was interrupted as something moved in my peripheral vision, making me jump. It was just a cat, however, jumping onto the coffee table next to me. Startled, I ran a hand over her soft coat in awe, her big blue eyes uninterested even as she pushed into my touch.

Will, to my surprise, rolled his eyes when I asked for her name, but there was a smile on his face as he glanced towards Mike. “Her name is Cat.”

“You named your cat, “Cat”?” I asked, incredulous - because, seriously? - and Will shrugged and told me to blame Mike, who immediately gawked in affront.

“It’s short for ‘Catherine’!” Mike insisted as if that was a vital piece of information that somehow made it better.

“Mike sucks at naming things,” Will sighed as he reached out a hand to run over Cat's - Catherine's, because Cat is just too stupid - back, eyes cutting to Mike as if there was an older joke there, and to my surprise mom laughed. I hadn't noticed her come in, but she was sitting on the edge of the couch right next to the door, leaning back against the wall as she watched us with an adoring tilt of her head.

“He does,” mom agreed, fond smile curling at her lips, “what did you name Nancy’s stuffed horse again?”

Mike shrunk into himself, clearly embarrassed. “Neigh-nay is a perfectly acceptable name. As is Catherine!”

As if agreeing with him, Catherine jumped away from my petting and crossed the space into Mike's lap as he started scratching behind her ears. Mom laughed again, loud and deep and happy, and the sight made me smile as well.

“Honey, for someone that like those fantasy games so much you sure lacked creativity at times.”

That made Will snort, eyes filled with glee as he nudged Mike's shoulder, getting Mike to relax into a smile as well. “He was really good at coming up with the stories, though.”

Mom then went on to ramble in agreement, telling story after story about Mike’s imagination running wild from an early age. I was content to sit and listen and try not to die of boredom as we migrated back to the table for dessert. It was mostly things I already knew, Mom’s regurgitations of her favourite memories of Mike nothing new to me, but Will seemed to enjoy himself, and Mike was flustered but didn’t seem to mind either, chiming in to offer more context or correcting her at times when he remembered things differently.

The night was surprisingly pleasant after that, the initial frost finally broken as everyone got to enjoy themselves. They even relaxed enough to finish their glasses of wine and refill them, stories coming more easily after that. Mike and Will more freely talked about the classes they'd taken at UC and Northwestern respectively, and the apartment they'd shared after spending their first two years in the dorm.

There was still always that air of trepidation, of care hidden beneath each word, but it was easier to not fixate on it as we were all busy laughing at their crazy roommates and high-strung RAs. And by the end of the night I almost regretted having to go.

It was nice to have dinner like this - a proper dinner. Where the edges of the room fade away the further you're carried into the night, the deeper you sink into the conversation, when all focus shifts to the table at it's center and the people surrounding it, candlelight illuminating the sparks of joy in everyone's eyes. Everything suddenly seemed easier, the future shinier and more perfect, as if everything outside of the glow of the overhead lighting had ceased to exist.

And then we came home to a dark house, to dad asleep in his chair, and I realized none of my questions were answered.

Maybe it doesn't matter. Maybe it's only the first step. I have to admit I don't want to go back, don't want to give this up. Even if it makes me feel guilty, even if I feel bad for leaving dad on his own.

Maybe I can take it one step at a time.

I'll think about it out tomorrow.

Love, Holly

[infinit-world]

Maybe Christmas it’s not that bad

Pairing: Jenna Ortega X Reader I wrote it thinking of fem!reader but can be read as gn!reader

Word count: 3.35k

Summary: You end up spending Christmas with Jenna and her family.

Hi! This is my first time writing, so sorry if this is bad. Also, English is not my first language, so if you see a mistake, please let me know.

A/N I know it's too late (or early) for a Christmas fic, but this idea popped in my head and I had to write it. Hope you enjoy it!

You look at the Wednesday cast. You can’t contain the small smile that appears on your face when you see them all laughing and having a good time, chatting about their plans for the upcoming Christmas holidays. Your eyes land on Jenna, like they tend to do. You love seeing her like this, so relaxed and carefree. 

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your shoulder, seeing Emma with a smirk looking at you. "What are your plans for the holidays y/n/n?" Your smile disappears after hearing the words, without much of an idea of what to answer. "Hmm, not much, just a nice and calm dinner with some friends." The lie rolls easily, and you’re happy that she doesn’t ask anything else before going back to talk with the rest. 

See, the thing is, you don’t really like Christmas. You loved it when you were a kid, with all the gifts and special foods. But when you started to grow up things changed. Your parents didn’t get along really well with your other relatives, so dinner with the rest of the family was always filled with uncomfortable tension. You were forced to talk with people that basically didn’t care for you, just to keep the happy little family facade that everyone knew was fake, so your parents would be happy. It was exhausting. Plus, your economic situation wasn’t good, so you stopped getting presents at the age of 10. In the end, Christmas started to feel like an obligation. Seeing everyone be so excited, knowing that they had a good time with their families just added an extra bittersweet feeling. It made the longing to experience something like that stronger, and you hated it.

You excuse yourself, too distracted thinking how you will be all alone again, to notice how Jenna looks at you with a frown. You close the door to your trailer with a sight, ready to take a shower and go to bed, wanting nothing more than to have a little bit of peace. Right as you get out of the bathroom you hear a knock on your door. "I’m coming." You yell, a little confused as to who it could be. When you open the door you see Jenna and Emma. "Come in." You say while opening the door a little more. 

Once the three of you are seated on the couch you wait for one of them to start talking. "We wanted to talk with you about earlier. We noticed how you felt a little uncomfortable after asking you about Christmas. Just wanted to make sure you’re ok." Emma says softly. "I’m fine, just a little tired." " Y/n, don’t lie to us please. There’s something bothering you. If you don’t want to talk about it it’s fine, we were just worried." Jenna tells me.

You stay silent for a minute, thinking if you want to tell them the truth. They already know a few things about your past, but they don’t know the whole story. In the end, you decide to tell them. You exhale before starting. "You know I don’t have contact with my family anymore. But, the truth is, I don’t really talk with anyone else apart from you. I didn’t have a lot of friends back home, and I’ve been so focused on Wednesday, I haven’t had a lot of time to meet new people. My plan was to stay here. I don’t really like Christmas, so I don’t mind if I don’t celebrate it." You shrug trying to play it down. 

After you tell them how were your Christmas before cutting the ties with your family, they share a look of understanding before Emma starts speaking. "Well, there’s no way we’re going to let you stay here alone for the holidays. We can talk with our families and we can stay here with you. Make it special so you can finally have good memories of it."  "What?" You say shocked. "No way. I’m not letting you stay here just because of me. You haven’t seen your families in months, and I know how excited you two were to see them again. I will be fine, I promise." You say crossing your arms to emphasise how serious you were. "If you’re not going to let us stay here and we’re not going to let you stay alone, I think the only solution is for you to come with one of us." Emma nods to Jenna’s words.

You think about it. It would be nice to spend the holidays with people, and you already met Emma’s family through a video call a few months back. But still, you don’t want to be a burden. "Y/n, please." Emma gives you puppy eyes and you can feel your resolution crumbling. "Ok, ok, if your family is ok with it, I will go with you." You say. "Oh please, my mom fell in love with you since the two of you met. She will be happy to have you over."  "And, if not, you can always come with me." Jenna adds with a smile.

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

The next morning, while you’re in makeup, Emma comes to speak with you. "Hey y/n. I’ve talked with my mom about you tagging along for Christmas."  "Uh, ok? Did she say yes? That’s why you’re grinning like the Cheshire cat?" You ask a little confused. "Unfortunately, we will have more family than expected, so you can’t stay."  "Oh, ok. There's no problem. I will just stay here."  "Oh, you won’t. You will stay with Jenna."  "What? I’m not going with her Emma, I don’t know her family!" You say a little panicked. "Too late. I’ve already spoken with her and she said there’s no problem for you to go with her. I’m sure you will have a lot of fun." She says winking at you. Before you can think of an answer, Emma has already left the room. What the hell? You think before realising what just happened. Emma knew about your crush on Jenna, so she framed you to spend the holidays with her. I’m going to kill her when we finish the show.

You spend the rest of the day nervous. There’s just a couple of days before the holidays start, and you don’t think you’re ready to be at Jenna's house. "Hey, you’re ok?" Jenna asks you. "You’ve been a little distracted today."  "If I’m being honest, I’m really nervous about Christmas."  "Why?"  "Well, I don’t know your family. What if they don’t like me?" You say scratching your neck. "Y/n, don’t worry, they will love you." She gives you a reassuring smile before talking with you about the details of the trip.

The rest of the days fly by and before you know it, the day of the trip comes. You and Jenna spend the whole trip making plans for the holidays, since there’s still a week left until Christmas. Jenna tells you a little bit more about her family, and by the time you get to her house door, you feel you’ve known them for a long time.

Her mom is the first to hug Jenna, while you step aside not really knowing what to do. As soon as they separate, her mom comes and hugs you too. "It’s so nice to finally meet you, Jenna won’t stop talking about you!" Both of you blush while Jenna whines "MOM! Stop it!" After the introductions, you look around the house. It’s nice and cosy, with the Christmas decorations filling the hallways and the living room. The tree hasn’t been decorated yet, waiting for the whole family to be together.

Before showing your room, Jenna shows you hers. It’s smaller than you imagined it. Just a double bed, a desk and a built-in wardrobe. On the wall above the desk, there’s a corkboard full of photos of Jenna with her family and friends, movie tickets and other different items. "It’s my memory board. I used to save things of special moments and then I would pin them on the board." Jenna explains when she sees where your eyes are. You get a little bit closer, looking at everything with intent eyes. You love the idea that a lot of Jenna’s important moments are present on the board. 

You point to one of the photos of her with her siblings, all of them making funny faces. "What was happening here?" She chuckles before answering "That was our second easter with the twins, they wouldn’t stop crying so we started to make funny faces so they would laugh. Dad thought it was really cute and snapped the photo without us knowing it." You smile, imagining the scene. You spend a little more time talking about the different photos before deciding to take a nap before dinner.

Dinner is great. Her parents are really good cooks and all her family is really easy to talk with. You spend the whole time laughing at the banter of Jenna’s siblings, loving the happy atmosphere of the house. After you eat, they decide it’s a good time to decorate the tree, so you all move to the living room. You sit on the sofa with her parents, watching with a smile how the siblings argue about which decoration they should use. At one point, Jenna gets on top of Mia, trying to steal one of the ornaments that Isaac has. You laugh, before taking a picture, an idea for Jenna’s present forming in your head.

Jenna comes to you after giving up, a soft smile on her lips. "Come on, you have to decorate the tree with us." She says while offering her hand to you. You take it, loving the warm feeling spreading through your chest, joining the siblings. Without you knowing, her mom takes a picture of you.

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

The next morning, you two decide to go for a walk, so Jenna could show you her favourite spot in the city. "What do you think about my family?"  "They’re great Jenna. I love how all of you interact. Especially you with your siblings."  "Really? They can get really annoying when they want, which is always. If you haven’t realised, we spend the whole time bickering."  "I think is really cute. It shows how much you care for each other." You say with a smile. Jenna looks at you, her eyes curious. "What?"  "Nothing, I just… I would love to see the world through your eyes."  "Why? It’s not that interesting, I just see what others see." You say without understanding her.

Jenna drops the subject, guiding you to a hidden spot beside the road. It’s covered by trees, but once you pass them, you can see a bench facing a cliff. "Wow, it’s beautiful." You say. From where you stand, you can see the city below, surrounded by the desert. You sit down, enjoying the comfortable silence.

After a few minutes, Jenna starts talking. "Can you tell me a little more about your childhood? I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I’m curious."  "What do you want to know?"  "What was your favourite thing to do?" You think for a couple of seconds before answering. "I loved watching movies in the dark, I would wrap myself in a blanket and sit on the floor with the lights off. I could spend hours that way."  "That’s so cute! I used to do blankets forts with my siblings and watch movies inside."  "I always wanted to do that."  "Wait, you’ve never built a blanket fort?" Jenna asks you a little shocked. "No, I always watched it in movies and I thought it look really fun, but I never had the chance to try it."  "What else you’ve always wanted to try?"

You two spend a couple more hours talking before heading back to the house. 

For the next few days, you pass the time with her family, playing games in the garden with her siblings, helping her mom cook and getting to know Jenna a little more. You also took a lot of photos for Jenna’s present. You were thinking of creating an album, including photos since the two of you met until Christmas. 

It was December 22, and the family decided to go shopping for Christmas gifts (I know it’s too late, but imagine you can buy them without a problem) You were talking with Markus when you see Jenna looking out the window of a jewellery store. There, in the front, was a beautiful necklace of a raven with his wings opened, a small blue stone on his beak. You know Jenna has had a little obsession with ravens since she started Wednesday, so you make a note to yourself to come back later and buy it. 

You all end up separating so you could buy the presents for everyone. After a few hours, you only needed to buy the photo paper and the necklace for Jenna. You had talked with her dad a few days ago, and he let you use his printer for the photos. Once you got everything, you go back to the house, hiding the gifts in your room before anyone could see them. You decided to have a quiet evening, a little tired from socialising so much this past days.

You’re just scrolling through Instagram when Jenna knocks on your door. "Hey, you’re busy?" You look at her, noticing how she seems excited. "No, I was just being lazy, you want something?"  "I have a surprise for you." Jenna leads you to the living room. When you enter, you see that the sofas have been moved, so there was space for a blanket fort. "You told me you always wanted to try it. I know you haven’t made it, but they can be a pain in the ass to build sometimes, and I wanted it to be perfect." You smile at her, your eyes shining with love. "Thank you, you didn’t have to." You say with a soft voice. You enter the fort, seeing all your favourite snacks and Jenna’s laptop already prepared for a movie marathon. You stay there, curled at Jenna’s side, until late in the night.

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

The last day flies by, and Christmas Eve arrives. You spend the morning in your room, wrapping the gifts, only having to finish Jenna’s present. You sort the photos in an album on your phone, adding the ones her parents took for you, before deciding which ones you want to use. You decided that you would put the photos in a box instead of an album so if Jenna wanted, she could save them in her corkboard. After you print them, you put a nice decorative paper inside the box. But, you’re not quite happy with it, it’s like something is missing. That's when an idea pops into your head. Jenna told you she wanted to see the world through your eyes, so you decide to write what was going on in your mind when the photos happened.

The dinner that night is awesome. It’s the best Christmas you ever had, and you can’t wait for tomorrow. "Oh, we forgot to tell you!" Jenna says when you are finishing. "We usually open the presents when the clock strikes midnight."  "Yeah! we can’t wait until the next morning. Too much excitement!" One of her sisters adds. You smile, before reassuring them that it’s ok. 

You all get the presents and take a sit in the living room. Her parents are the first to give them, loving to see their children's excitement. You cry when you open your gift. It’s nothing special really, just a few hoodies from your favourite artists, but your chest feels like it’s going to explode from happiness, so you thank them sniffing, with a huge smile on your face. 

After a while, it’s Jenna’s turn. She gives you two presents, one is a rectangle, and you immediately know it’s a book. The other is a small box. "Open the big one first." Jenna instructs you. You unwrap it carefully, seeing the cover of your favourite book. "It’s a special edition. I know how much you love it." When you open it, you can see that some pages have artwork on them. You want to thank her, but she shushes you before nudging the second present. 

When you open the box, you can’t fight the tears that start to fall. Inside, lays a silver bracelet with an infinity symbol in the middle. It’s exactly like the one your Granny gave you. Your grandmother was the only person in your family that you really loved, and that bracelet was the last present she gave you before she died. You told Jenna how you loved it, but unfortunately, the bracelet broke a few years ago, and you really missed it. Jenna knew how important it was for you, so she search everywhere until she found it. "I know it’s not the same but-" Before she can finish, you hug her. "It’s perfect, thank you."

You clear your tears before giving your gifts. You’re nervous, you want them to be perfect as a thank you for giving you such a good Christmas. Everyone likes them, thankfully, so you relax a little bit. You look at Jenna, wanting to see her reaction. You just give her the necklace, wanting to give her the photos when you two are alone. A gasp leaves her mouth when she sees it. "I know you’re a little obsessed with ravens lately, and I saw you looking at it that day." You say as an explanation for the gift. "You know, some people believe ravens give bad luck." She tells you with a playful smile. "Sometimes, but to others they symbolize rebirth and starting anew, serving as a positive sign. I think that belief fits better for you." She smiles, before asking you to help her clasp the necklace.

You all stay talking for a while, before her family decides to go to sleep. It’s getting pretty late, but you ask Jenna to stay with you. "I have another gift for you." You tell her when she gives you a puzzled look. You give her the box, nervous about her reaction. When she opens it, she finds a little card

I hope this helps you to 

see the world through my eyes

She lifts the decorative paper, seeing all the photos, each one with a number on them. She takes the first one. It’s a selfie of you two. You took it after the first day you two met. "Turn it around." You tell her in a soft voice, not wanting to change the soft atmosphere. 

I knew since that moment that you were going to be one of the best things in my life. You were the first person to really see me. You didn’t judge me, or force me to talk, you just stayed close and waited for me to come to you. You brought a happiness into my life that I never thought I would have. Thank you.

She whispers your name after reading it, tears already forming in her eyes. She looks at you, before looking back at the box. You never stop looking at her while she reads them all, taking both of you on a trip of your relationship. The one where the cast of Wednesday fills the space, with smiles on your faces after the first week of shooting; Jenna with her siblings decorating the tree; Jenna hugging you from behind, with her arms on your hips, watching the tree after decorating it; you giving Jenna a piggyback ride in her back yard…

When she finishes reading them, she looks back at you, with a look of adoration in her eyes. You stay like that for a while, neither of you wanting to break the moment, before she grabs your cheeks and gives you a soft and chaste kiss on the lips. "Is this ok?" The words get stuck in your throat, so you kiss her softly again, a smile on both of your lips.

Maybe Christmas it’s not that bad

[kaiso-woo]

The Date of All Dates

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

-> Masterlist

PART 5 of my ‘Stay Series’ - a long hypothesised journey of a relationship between Bang Chan and Reader.

WC: 10.5k (longer than usual, I am so sorry) | Synopsis: Slice of Life. Just a fun little date with your boyfriend ^-^ Oh what's that? The pair of you cause a scene at a restaurant? Society knows about your relationship? Is there a break up? What's happening?! Oh no!!

Notes: FLUFF + ANGST, Second Person Narration, Skz Fluent in English, Swearing, Idol!Chan, CaféOwner!Reader, Fem!Reader, Threatening (assassin?, fork?), Jealous!Chan (briefly), Angry!Chan (:DD), Drug Mention (in a joke), Swearing, Pet Names Used (Jagiya, Jagi, Baby, Babe, Love - there are like 50 million others if I'm being honest I'm not listing them all I'm sorry T-T), Kisses (Duh)

Here for a reading marathon? Head right back to the start!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　

Overall ‘Stay Series’ Synopsis: Bang Chan experiences the suic!des of Stays, so when you lot choose to die, he dies right along with you. Reader is the “antidote” to this condition - BRIEF MENTIONS IN THIS FIC

PART 5

!!Casual reminder this is entirely fictitious - Chris/Christopher in my work does not represent the actual Bang Chan - this is purely my imagination and nothing more - this goes for all other SKZ-Members too!!

--

The video had popped up on your feed, and without much else to do, you clicked on it, happily fast forwarding to the action. Stray Kids had landed at the airport, preparing for a performance nearby. This live was a while ago though, and you smiled softly at the sight of Chris, walking with powerful strides behind the rest of the group, his protective eyes peering out from between his mask and beanie.

The man in question nudged your shoulder, squinting curiously at you, again, covered up by the same mask. Different beanie this time though, and he had his hood pulled up over the top. “Why’re you watching that when I’m right here?” he chuckles, leaning in so he can speak directly in your ear.

“I’m not allowed to come watch you land, so at least I can watch it here,” you chuckle back, admiring the way the Chris on your phone comfortingly placed a hand on Jisung’s back to direct him through the crowd, letting him know he wasn’t alone. “I don’t understand why JYP won’t let you really,” Chris mumbles, snuggling in closer to watch himself over your shoulder. 

You tilt your phone screen towards him slightly, “I think it’s obvious.” “Yes but you could just be any other fan. I’m not saying you should personally be waiting to pick me up. You could still be in the crowd though,” he reaches over to slide your phone out of your hand, blinking at you once for permission. He rewinds the video slightly so he can analyse it again, always on the lookout for how he can improve his idol impression.

“And what if you see me? Can you pretend that you don’t know me?” you tease, opening your palm to ask for your phone back. “I’m not an idiot, I’m not about to profess my undying love at the sight of you,” Chris rolls his eyes as he places your phone back in your hand, and you switch it off, “although that is tempting to do,” he finishes with a wink.

You huff and slump further into your chair, turning away from him so you can watch the houses and cars whip past you outside the train window. “On second thought, Stays might correctly interpret the happiness in my eyes as me being in love with someone in the crowd, which is absolutely correct – so yeah, maybe JYP is right.” 

You turn back to him with every intention to prove that his eyes can’t possibly be overanalysed by Stays like that, but your words die in your throat when you lock eyes. He’s right. Stays would easily be able to tell. Even with his mouth obscured, and majority of his head covered with a beanie and hoodie, the radiant joy emanating from his eyes is enough to melt your heart. The corners of his eyes are crinkled slightly, but his eyes are still wide with rapt attention. You tilt your head and scan his irises closely. 

It's not often in real life that you would use the term ‘sparkling’ to describe someone’s eyes; maybe if you’re writing sure, which is rare enough as is. You couldn’t think of anything else to describe the way he’s looking at you though, so with a sigh you settle for that mental description and decide to change the topic. “Where are we going?” you ask him, glancing up at the map listing the train destinations above the opposite window.

“Somewhere fun,” he simply replies. You raise an eyebrow at him, but decide to give it up for a while. You’d been asking him the same question at random intervals, hoping to surprise the answer out of him, but he hasn’t said anything truly useful. The pair of you lapse into a comfortable silence, and after a while your gaze goes unfocused, lost in your own thoughts. Chris’ hand sneakily slips into yours, and he places it neatly on his thigh, carefully stroking your knuckles. This shakes you out of your reverie, and you glance at your linked hands, a small smile gracing your features. This would have been completely cute if you hadn’t looked up at Chris’ face, his eyes frosty, staring at someone on the opposite chairs to you two.

The poor man opposite was now awkwardly looking away, a blush spreading from his neck upwards. “What’d he do to you? What’s with the glare?” you ask, slowly piecing together the reasoning for Chris’ actions, but wanting to hear it from the man himself.

“He was staring at you,” Chris grumbles, letting his head drop onto your shoulder, his hand still gripping yours. “Okay… well while he was doing that, I was busy thinking about how soft your lips are. There’s no need to be possessive,” you chide, trying to prove a point. Chris laughs and unlinks your hands, instead stretching his arm out around your shoulders protectively.

“My lips? So randomly? You can’t even see them right now.” You grin cheekily and tilt his head towards yours, then press a little kiss to his mask, “I don’t need to see them to think of them.” Chris’ eyes go wide, his thoughts frazzled, scanning the features of your smiley expression. Without even thinking, he pulls his mask down briefly to properly give you a quick kiss, then pulls his mask up and sits back in his chair like nothing had happened.

“Chris,” you hiss, “Don’t do that again. What if someone recognises you?”  He gives you the side eye, contemplating, but then shrugs and dismisses the topic. You sigh and lean into his embrace, worried that his antics will lead to your photos plastered on the internet. Catching the train was risky enough, but your car was currently being serviced. Even though a little day spent hanging out in your apartment together would have sufficed, Chris was insistent on taking you out and about.

You only agreed because you figured he didn’t deserve to be cooped up on one of the few days he could mentally and physically rest.

--

Once you got off the train, Chris immediately linked your hand with his and pulled you through the crowd, his head bent low to try and hide his face better. Being out in the public with him like this always made you nervous, and you could tell Chris was aware of it by how he was rubbing soothing circles on the back of your hand. Generally, when you went on dates, you’d stalk out café’s that weren’t busy, or seek beaches with no crowd. It had become a recent hobby of yours, scouring the internet or roaming around town for cute little nooks and crannies you could safely spend time with him at.

This time however, Chris wouldn’t tell you where you were going, and apart from his vague disguise and minute efforts to keep his head low, everything was at risk. A part of you had a gut feeling that he simply didn’t care anymore. You walked side by side in silence, squinting in the bright sunlight. Carefully, you tried to arrange your hand in his, worried that it was getting too sweaty. Chris glanced at you, shook his head with a slight chuckle, and offered his arm for you to link with instead.

“You going to tell me where we’re going yet?” you urge, constantly eyeing the people walking past to make sure they don’t recognise him. “Not until you relax,” he hums, watching your anxious expression. “You aren’t going to tell me even if I do relax,” you huff, heart stilling at the gaze of a young girl’s eyes lingering on Chris for a little too long.

“Well… if it’s any consolation, I found something for us to do where no one will be able to see my face,” he directs the pair of you around a corner as you stare at him questioningly. Wasn’t that always the idea? “It’ll be dark,” he continues, coming to a halt right in front of a place you don’t recognise. In fact, you haven’t recognised the location for a while now, which has only added to your concerns. You sigh in disbelief as you read the sign above your head.

“Laser tag?” you croak, slowly turning to look at Chris with every ounce of judgement you can muster. Your heart cracks a little at the sight of his eyes dulling, the life dying within them at your apparent disappointment. “Yeah…?” You chuckle and slip your arm out of his to grab his wrist. Then without pause, roughly tug him inside the building, “Alright babe but don’t expect my sympathy when you lose!”

Chris’ relief is evident in his laugh, and you hate yourself for a second there, for ever making him doubt himself in the first place. “You forget who I am,” he teases, “There’s no way I’m going to lose.”

--

He was right. It is dark. Even though there are coloured lights flickering around and the diminished haze of a few button lights on the walls, your vision is limited. In fact, you reckon the LEDs flashing around obnoxiously like you’re in a disco party are meant to confuse and make things more difficult, not actually help you. Your teams had been randomised, and you have to say, your teamwork was shoddy at best. Your side of the game kind of just treated it as an ‘every person for themselves’ kind of situation. 

Originally, the staff had asked whether the group wanted their teams randomised or selected themselves. Randomised won majority (much to your chagrin), and Chris had been placed on your team. Upon seeing the way Chris was standing behind you, his arms wrapped in a hug around your waist, chin on your head, one of the staff members swapped him with someone in the other team with a devilish grin. Thanks, now the game was truly on.

It's been maybe 10 minutes, and you haven’t seen Chris anywhere. You’ve scored a few good shots on his team though, peeking out of window holes and ducking from one blockade to the next. You had a feeling Chris had commandeered his team, naturally slipping into a leadership role. They seemed to hunt and shoot in a coordinated effort, often ambushing and sneaking up from all sides. Something felt off about them however, they seemed restrained, pulling away frequently when there was still plenty of opportunity. Sometimes you noticed, they seemed to get bored of shooting a member of your team.

Chris had removed his beanie as he walked into the arena, carefully tucking it into his belt for safekeeping, and the last thing you saw of him was the fuzzy curls of his hair. He’d assured you he’d keep his mask on, and now that you think about it, you were quite positive this had only contributed to his team easily following his orders. What kind of person wouldn’t follow the directions of a mysterious, good-looking man who spoke with an eased authority? 

You winced as your suit lights flashed after a laser gun sound effect played from over by your right. Someone had found you. You leapt through the window above you and disappeared on the other side of the wall, taking shelter for a second. When the sound died, you took the opportunity to push yourself up and scamper away, looking for a better spot to recuperate and maybe counterattack.

“Chris!” you froze at the calling, trying to listen again over the sound of guns firing and the music playing in the background, “Oi! Chris! She’s over here!” 

Oh shit.

You took off at a sprint, heart thumping wildly in your chest, gun abandoned at your waist. You ducked around a wall, leapt over another, and found yourself standing, breathing heavily, backed into a carefully chosen corner. There were no windows on either side of you, and the wall was far too high for anyone to jump over. You admit, it wasn’t the best choice in regard to an escape route, you were literally cornered. However, you could never outrun Chris, so you figured the best option was to bunker down and hide for a while.

Suddenly, all firing completely ceased. You weren’t sure what your teammates were doing, or what Chris’ team was doing for this matter. You didn’t know this of course, but Chris had managed to parkour his way to the top of the wall you were currently cowering behind. His teammates were watching eagerly from below, on the other side of the wall, trying to stifle their chuckles. No wonder all the shooting had stopped. How was your team supposed to shoot the opposite team if they were all stalking you?

Chris watched you for a second, his eyes gleaming in the darkness, then swivelled around from his perched position to offer his team a salute. In a fluid motion, he jumped off the wall backwards, landing right in front of you. Your scream made his team collapse into raucous laughter, and for a second there, they could have been Chris’ Kids.

“Jesus fuck how did you even-” you’re cut off by Chris pulling down his mask, trapping you up against the wall, and kissing you softly. He backs away after a second, whispering, “You’ve lost this one babe,” and with an infuriating raise of his hand, shoots you, your lights going off again in the location where most points are gained.

Before you can even process, let alone say anything in response, Chris disappears behind the wall to return to his team, and you can hear him yell, “Mission accomplished guys, the floor is all yours, thanks for your help.” “Our pleasure!” “Too easy.” “All good bro.”

You beeline along the path ahead of you, rocketing away from Chris’ team members that have dashed around the wall, eager to attack. You almost collide with one of your own team members, who sees the flock of people chasing you and runs alongside you.

“WHY ARE THEY ALL CHASING YOU?!” she yells, ducking around a corner to try and get some shots in. “My devil of a boyfriend,” you spit, joining her and helping to make the group scatter.

You were right. They were holding back earlier. If there was any hope that your team was out on top, that was most certainly not the case by the end. Even with you trying to organise your team once you eventually found each other, Chris’ yelled commands and his team’s speed, stealth and ferocity was unmatched. His encouragement and cheers of celebration could be heard literally everywhere you went, and his team caught on. Their motivational yells and cheers worked wonders on boosting their team. 

By the time the siren blasted over the speakers, and the white lights flashed on, immediately blinding, you were a sweaty, huffing mess. You meandered your way over to the exit, following the stream of people jostling each other to snag some cold water first. Chris bounded up to you out of nowhere, slinging an arm around your shoulders and unnecessarily leaning on you. You almost buckle under his weight, exhausted to the core.

“How was that, hey?” he laughs, shaking you slightly in his adrenalin-rushed state. You simply groan in response and amble your way over to the scoring board on the TV. He already has his beanie back on his head, although a few of his curls are sticking out haphazardly.

Naturally, Chris’ team hurtles towards the pair of you, having already discovered that they won. Chris remains attached to you but offers a round of enthused high fives, congratulating them and praising their teamwork.

“You should join an official team,” someone grinned at him, to which Chris only laughed in response, shaking his head. “I don’t live around here, I’m only here to visit my girl,” Chris tugs you closer, and you smile sheepishly, hesitant to interact when Chris is potentially seconds away from being discovered.

“Surely your number then. Hit me up when you’re here and we can play another game?” he asks, tilting his head imploringly. Chris’ eyes widen and you tense at the question, unsure about how he’s going to handle this.

“I can’t do that, I’m sorry,” he replies simply, trying to convey his sincerity through his eyes. A girl from Chris’ team wanders over, casually eyeing Chris from head to toe now that they were out in visibility again, “What about me? Up for trades?” she asks, her eyes wide and innocent.

Chris shakes his head again, and you tug his hoodie in a warning. It was time you wrapped this up and left. “What are you a celebrity or something? Why are you hiding your face?” the girl asked, squinting at Chris, as though trying to see underneath his mask.

“What if I was?” Chris nonchalantly replies, and at this you take a fistful of his hoodie and make to drag him away, mind spinning, heart stuck somewhere in your throat. “I’d try harder for your number!” she states, eyes boring into your own.

“Not a chance, I’m very much taken,” Chris pulls you into a tight embrace, burying your terrified face into his chest. You wrap your arms tightly around him, worried about the words that are going to tumble out of his mouth. “I’m not allowed to give my number out to anyone, company rules,” he murmurs, and at this you crane your neck to stare at him. (A/N: I do not know if this is actually true, just pretend it is T-T.)

Two things he said there were horribly wrong. One, he basically just admitted that he was in fact a celebrity, two… “You gave me your number though,” you point out, frowning. He glances down at you and pulls your head back into a hug. “I broke the rules for you.”

Immediately, you stop breathing at his words, cheeks blossoming a lovely shade of pink, and you mumble into his chest, “Is that why… you fought with…” “How’d you find out about that?” he interjects sharply. It seems you two have almost completely forgotten about the other two people standing in silence, watching you.

“Suhee… Suhee told me…” you answer after a moment’s hesitation. Chris only sighs and brings a hand up to caress the side of your face, “Everything’s fine now though yeah? Don’t even think about it.” 

“So… is Chris even your real name?” the bloke asks, startling the pair of you out of your bubble. “Of course not,” Chris replies, then with a slight tip of his head as a goodbye, he grabs your hand and walks you out of the building. Not before you manage to hear the man and woman talking to each other, “Google him.” “How? We don’t even have his name.” “Take a picture quickly.” “’Ness that’s not right. We’re not going to do that.”

You silently thank the man, and mentally spit on ‘Ness, but speed up your pace regardless, hoping to get out of sight and out of mind.

--

You’re back on the train again, headed closer to home where you can stake out your favourite restaurant for a bite out to eat. It’s your favourite mostly because of the semi-private booths they provide, and if Chris sits up against the wall, he’s hidden relatively well. Chris heaves a deep sigh and wriggles out of your snuggle, whining about being hot and stripping himself of his hoodie.

“I’m sweating more than I did in laser tag,” he complains, folding it neatly and placing it on his lap, then snuggling back up to you. Carefully, you ease the hoodie out of his lap with a cheeky grin on your face, aware of Chris’ eyes watching your every movement.

“I’ll hold it for you,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when he rolls his eyes knowingly, “You’ll hold it, or you’ll permanently borrow it?”  You hug it tightly, playing with the fabric between your fingers, then bring it up to your face to inhale its scent.

You’d never have been able to guess his perfume’s ingredients if he hadn’t read it out to you one day to satisfy your curiosity: notes of spicy pink pepper and creamy ylang-ylang (that’s a tropical tree originating from the Philippines btw), combined with fierce musk and a sensuous vanilla base. That scent alone is enough to make your heart swell, a sense of safety and security washing over you with each breath.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Chris puzzles, “Why are you smelling my hoodie like it’s cocaine?” You pull your nose away from his hoodie to calmly respond, “Because this is my cocaine you dumb twat.”

Chris laughs and rests his head on your shoulder, looking up at you through his eyelashes, “I know mate, I just wanted to hear you say it.” “That your scent is my cocaine?” you grimace, neatly placing the hoodie onto your lap. “Okay well not that specifically,” he pouts, “just that my scent drives you insane.”

“You are a strange man,” you tut, resting your head on top of his, wishing more than anything in the world at that moment that you could remove his beanie so you could feel his soft curls. “You seem to like this strange man, so I think you’re stranger.” 

--

Finally, you’re sitting opposite Chris, slurping happily away on your cookies and cream smoothie while Chris takes generous sips from his pineapple juice. You’re sitting in your favourite spot waiting patiently for your food to arrive. Chris locks his phone and places it face down on the table, turning his attention to you with crinkled eyes. He’s wearing his hoodie again, much to your disappointment, so he can use his hood to hide behind instead of his beanie, giving his hair some room to breathe. Your eyes roam the curls, savouring the peaceful silence as you stare at each other. 

Eventually, Chris begins to chat away, and you reciprocate his enthusiasm, laughing and giggling at the stories he tells you about Skz, adding your own input when his words remind you of something, and even as you eat, you continue to rally stories and questions back and forth at each other. “Bailey’s coming in for day care tomorrow.” “Is he? The one that looks like Berry?!” “Mhm!” “Can he stay with me upstairs?” “Uhm… I don’t see why not…”

You glance down at your plate and realise there’s only one mouthful left and blink in surprise. Chris had finished his meal a couple of minutes ago and was leaning back into the booth leisurely. You shovel it into your mouth and scoot out of your seat to pay for the food before he can, but he leans over and snatches at your arm, frowning at you.

“We’ve talked about this a million times before jagiya,” he clarifies, his eyes narrowed, “you’re not allowed to pay.”

You raise your eyebrows at him and yank your arm out of his grip, “Then you should have beaten me to it.”

You scamper away swiftly as Chris lunges for you again, sending a jolt through your heart as he scrambles up to chase you. “Yah! Dol-awa!” (Come back here!) he yells, but you don’t really need to. He’s already hooked an arm around your waist and trapped you between his arms, your wriggling and laughter doing nothing against his strong grip.

“Okay okay okay. I won’t pay. You can let me go,” you fuss, scrabbling at his hands, but he sighs and hugs you tighter. “Never. Will never let you go,” he mumbles, kissing the back of your head affectionately. 

You’re not aware of this, but his hood has fallen down in his scramble to stop you, and without his mask since he was eating, he’s completely and utterly exposed. The lady at the counter looks up to sus out what the commotion is about, and her eyes immediately widen at the sight of Chris’ head perched lovingly on top of yours. 

“Bang Chan?” she gasps, the delirious excitement evident in her awestruck expression. Your heart plummets into the ground as Chris stiffens around you. “Hi! Oh my gosh, please can we take a picture together?” she hurries around the desk, swiftly pulling her phone out, and Chris instinctively drags you protectively behind him, hiding your face.

“Ah- ah no. No sorry, no photos today,” he rushes, arranging his hood that you’ve haphazardly tugged onto his head again. The lady pauses and seems to remember you’re there, her phone dropping to her side. She points at you with a curious tilt of her head, “Is she…?” 

You cringe and step away from Chris, walking with your hair curtaining your face back towards your restaurant booth. You’re dimly aware of the rest of the restaurant guests peeking over the top of their booths and leaning over to get a better view. “Is there someone famous here?” “Who’s she asking for a photo?” “Bang Chan, she said Bang Chan.” “BANG CHAN?!” “Who’s he with?” “Who’s she? His girlfriend?” “No way is Bang Chan dating someone.” “Eva’s going to be so mad.” “I wonder how Stays are going to handle this.” “Come on, we have to get a photo.”

Chris swivels around and follows you back to the booth, smiling sheepishly and pulling his hood even further over his head. “Babe let’s go,” he whispers, but the neighbouring table hears his muted words, and the whole restaurant is chattering again. “They’re dating. He called her babe.” “Did you get a good look at her? Is she even pretty?” “She’s kind of average.” 

Chris flinches, his eyes downcast as he realises his mistake, but you offer him a small smile of encouragement and gather your things. Chris thinks for a second, his hands fiddling, then pulls his hoodie off himself and yanks it over your head. He whisks his beanie off the table, tugs it onto your head and hands you his mask from his pocket. You blink at him, but put it on regardless, finishing off the disguise by pulling the hood up over your head. He seems to care more about your coverage than his own. “There’s no way they aren’t dating.” “I think he settled.” “What does she have that I don’t?”

You can see Chris’ jaw clench, the offhand comments beginning to annoy him, so you shake your head at him and nod towards the exit. He grabs your hand, making your heart thump wildly in fear – he’s really not doing anything to help ease the rumours. “Chan who is she?” “Do you even like her?” Chris pauses, and you try to tug him onwards, pleadingly.

“She’s the love of my life and that’s that,” he snaps, the break from his usual polite stature towards fans causing the restaurant to fall silent. You gulp and hiss at him, his name falling from your mouth in a panicked urgency. Half of the people in here probably didn’t even know who he was; just crazed at the experience of being in the proximity of a celebrity.

“He’s not even that good-looking, you sure he’s famous?” you hear someone whisper, and your head turns towards the voice, an unknown flame sparking, “He’s probably only famous because his father’s rich or something. That’s how it is these days, isn’t it?” they continue, and you stalk over to them, causing Chris to stare at you in surprise, too busy glaring at the restaurant guests to hear the comments about himself.

You slam your palm onto their table, causing the two girls to jump in surprise. “You say anything else about him and I will skewer you,” you lean over and snatch her fork from her plate, “with your own fucking fork.” “Bold words from a girl cowering in her boyfriend’s clothes,” the other girl smirks, folding her arms challengingly.

“At least I have a boyfriend,” you seethe, hand clenching around the fork. “Nice try bitch, I have one too.” “Not after my famous boyfriend with a rich father sends an assassin after him.”

Her eyes widen at that, and you lazily throw the fork back onto the table. “His name’s Bang Chan, as I’m sure you’ve heard, why don’t you google him on the phone you’ve been taking pictures of us with-”

Chris swoops in out of nowhere before you can finish your sentence, grabbing you by the waist again to lead you away. When you try to free yourself, blood boiling and not finished with your fight, he bends down and hoists you over his shoulders, walking you out of the restaurant while you yell in fury. After a while, he puts you back down, commands you to stay put while he returns to pay for the meal, and you begin to regret your actions. Chris seemed eerily nonchalant, and you knew you crossed a line by confronting those two girls. You probably made things more difficult actually, and you cringed as you pictured the next headline.

‘K-pop idol Bang Chan of Stray Kids allegedly dating a psychotic woman who threatened restaurant guests”

You’re so busy letting your thoughts eat away at your mind that you don’t even realise Chris is standing in front of you again. “C’mon, let’s go home,” he sighs, his hands tucked into his shorts pockets. “I messed up didn’t I?” you mumble, not daring to look him in the eye.

“I did too. It’s okay. I’ll sort it out with JYP later,” his eyes briefly skim over the sign above your head, and he disappears inside the store he left you in front of. After a minute, he returns with a packet of skittles for you. “Just forget about it for now okay? I’ll figure it out when I get back to Korea. And who knows… maybe everyone in there has a conscience and won’t even consider posting anything.” You snort and tear open the packet of skittles, craving the sour lollies all of a sudden, “That’s being overly optimistic.”

Chris laughs and begins to follow the route back to your café, you trailing behind him sadly, shoving skittles in your mouth with the mask pulled down to your chin. You frown at Chris’ back and the realisation hits you. He’s likely going to fight with JYP again. He’s likely going to be given a choice between you or his career. You can tell from his deflated posture as he walks ahead of you that he’s thinking the same thing.

You can feel that dreadful sting in the corners of your eyes intensifying, and reflexively, you close the distance between you two, snagging him in a back hug. You deliriously rub your face into his shirt, trying to stop yourself from crying, and he arches his back in response with a little gasp, “That tickles.”

“I’m sorry Chris. I’m so so sorry.” “None of this is your fault. I wasn’t careful enough.” “You’re always careful. I saw that the restaurant was kind of full today, I shouldn’t have suggested it. I’m the one who’s not careful” “That’s enough. I said forget it.” Chris squirms around and pulls you into a proper hug, sighing into the top of your head, “Don’t you worry… about a thing… it’s going to be okay, yeah?” he inflects the statement into a question, and you think he’s trying to reassure himself more than you.

You won’t let him choose. You’re not going to let him pick between his career or you. That’s not happening. He shouldn’t have to do that. You clench your teeth and bite back the tears, willing them to stay trapped in your eyes. You’ve made your decision. You pull away from him, eyes glistening with an unmatched determination. 

Chris’ face darkens at the sight, and he cups your face in his hands desperately, reading every single line of your set expression correctly. “No. I know what you’re thinking, and I’m telling you now – do not, under any fucking circumstance, think it.”

You remain silent, drowning yourself in his desperate eyes, lips frozen in a thin line. “Y/N no. Don’t.” “Want some skittles, Chris?” you nonchalantly ask, tearing your eyes away from him to stare into the contents of the bag still in your hands.

“No. No I don’t want skittles. I need you to fucking understand-” “I understand,” you interject, eyes flickering back up to him, but you figure your emotions aren’t controlled enough, and you can see the panic rise in his beautiful irises. “No you fucking don’t. I can see you fucking don’t. Everything is going to be okay. I’ll sort it out, I promise,” he insists, clutching your face just that little bit tighter. “I know you will. Now do you want some skittles or not?”

Chris glares at you, then pulls you into another rough hug, squeezing the air out of your lungs. You wish he wouldn’t. He’s making it so much harder for you to keep back the dam of tears threatening to overflow. “This- this here, in my arms right now, is my entire world. I’m not going to let anyone take that from me,” he whispers, and your heart crumbles to pieces. 

Would he let you take it from him? 

“Please eat some skittles. Sugar makes you feel better. Just don’t eat all of them okay?” you mumble into his shirt, and he pulls away, bitterly laughing, “Alright, give me those damn skittles.” You pass them over to him, smiling brightly. When he grins back at you, it’s like everything has fallen back into place, none of that just happened, it’s just the two of you again, the world fading into blurry insignificance around you. 

You’ll miss him.

--

For now though, you’re going to spend as much time with him as possible. You’re contemplating the situation as you sit on your bed, Chris calling out to you from the other side of the bedroom door. “Quit being mean~ let me in.” (A/N: What happened to "spending as much time with him as possible, hm?)

You’ve been checking the internet consistently, anxiously waiting for the news of your relationship with him to be leaked. Nothing was up so far. If something does happen, then Chris will naturally fly back to Korea as originally scheduled in a few days and immediately try to sort things out with JYP. It might work out well, it might not. You know however, that if he’s ever forced to pick between his career and you, you’re not going to let him choose you. “Jagiyaaaa… baby I miss you… let me in please?”

You sigh and flop back onto your bed just as your phone pings with a notification. Your heart stops – this is it… dispatch have found out surely. The relief that floods through your veins resolves into amusement when you realise the notifications are from Chris. He’s spamming you.

(A/N: When dialogue is in script format, it's meant to represent text messages.)

Chris: “baby I’m sorry” Chris: “please let me in baby” Chris: “muffin?” Chris: “sweet pea?” Chris: “the love of my life” Chris: “beautiful cinnamon roll who’s too pure for this world”

You grin at the new endearments emerging, feeling your insides go all soft and squishy at his antics. After a moment of thought, you message him back.

You: “Sorry doesn’t bring back my fucking skittles Christopher”

You pad over to the door as Chris yells in frustration, “I didn’t mean to. You offered them to me, and you were right. Sugar does make you feel better.” As soon as you unlock the door and swing it open, Chris’ face lights up with joy. He tackles you with a hug that makes you stumble back in surprise, and you desperately fight back your grin, opting for an annoyed expression. “Don’t lock me out again like that please. You need to be by my side at all times. 24/7. That was torture.”

You snort and carefully push him off you, wandering back to the bed, “We’re literally in a long-distance relationship, how am I supposed to be with you 24/7?” Chris waddles over to you, but you frown at him and point to the floor, “Nah-uh. You sit on the floor, I’m still mad at you.” He whines and pouts at you, his eyes as wide as saucers.

You know you’ll cave if he starts acting cute with you, so you pick up your phone and busy yourself with social media. Chris plonks himself down on the floor with a sigh, his legs splayed out wide in a V-shape, “I’ll buy you more skittles.” “I wanted those ones. They were special.”

“Since when? I’ll buy you as many special skittles as you want,” he huffs, folding his arms. Over the next few minutes, you do your best to ignore his whines of distress and needy sighs, his pet names and sugary chatter. You’ve been watching him out of the corner of your eye and decide to ignore the fact that he’s somehow moved a metre forward from where he originally was.

You yawn and stretch, putting your phone down to look at him properly for the first time in a while. Immediately, he stretches his arms wide and grasps rapidly at the air in front of him, asking quietly for cuddles, his legs bouncing in sync. Best leader. Five-year-old. Kangaroo. Mashed potato. You shake your head at him and give in, his adorable antics filling your heart too much. You crawl off the bed and settle into his outstretched arms, nestling your face into his neck. You place a delicate kiss there, and mumble against his skin, “If you ever, ever eat all my skittles again when I tell you not to, I will end you.”

Chris laughs and wraps his arms and legs securely around you. “You can end me whenever you want love. Just as long as it’s you doing it.” You pinch him lightly with an amused laugh, “You’re such a cheesy ass.” “Only for you~” he laughs, the vibrations from his throat rippling through you.

“Shut the fuck up, when are you going to stop saying that!” you yell, sitting up properly in his arms and trying to escape from his grip. “I’ll stop when I stop loving you. Which is never,” his grin could almost be described as sadistic as he tightens his grip on you, proving his point.

“Jesus Christ, oh my god you’re atrocious,” you grin, hiding your face with your hands in embarrassment. “Awh is my girl shy? There’s no need to hide baby, you’re adorable when you’re shy.”  “Shut.” “Come on… there’s no need to hide your beautiful face,” he teases, pulling at your fingers to try and remove them.

“I said shut-” your words resolve into giggles as he begins to tickle you, your muscles tensing at his actions, “Chris- okay stop- no- hey! Stop-,” you plead, rolling around on the floor desperately. Chris places his hands on either side of your head, leaning over you, giving you time to breathe.

He shifts his weight to one of his arms and affectionately brushes your hair out of your face, “I meant what I said, yeah? I’m never going to stop loving you.” You smile and pull him down on top of you, whispering heartfelt sweet nothings into his hair.

You don’t think you ever will either. Which hurts.

--

It’s later on in the night and you’re typing away on your laptop, sitting cross-legged on the couch, sorting through a few financial reports and business requirements to finish up the night. Chris is also busy working, sitting by the TV with his back to the wall, his laptop charging.

“Are you sure you’re comfy down there?” you ask him swiftly, eyes refusing to leave your computer screen even when he glances up at you. “With the amount of blankets and pillows you’ve thrown at me to use, you’d think I’d be comfy enough,” he grins, shuffling around a little and arranging the pillow at his back.

“I just don’t think you should be sitting on the floor,” you roll your eyes, pausing briefly to stretch your fingers. “You made me sit on the floor before,” he teases, clicking his touch pad in quick succession.

“That’s different,” you grumble, arching your back and trying to fix your posture, “although I have to say, sometimes I think the floor is comfier,” you finish up the sentence you’re typing out, uncross your legs, and move to sit on the floor, your back resting comfortably up on the couch.

The minutes pass as you fall into silence again, the atmosphere humming with a productive energy. You were antsy earlier, fidgety, still waiting for an article, or a social media post, or anything that would begin the drastic snowball of catastrophic events. Instead of worrying Chris, you chose to occupy your mind with work. Chris picked up on your productive mood and sat down to work too, and it had been a little over 2 hours since then.

Neither of you moved from your positions, except to stretch and grab a glass of water or snack for one another. You had basically forgotten about the whole fiasco, so absorbed in your own work, that when a notification from a newsagent you’re subscribed to pops up on your screen, your heart initially leaps in excitement; your body already used to reacting this way in the hopes that it’s something to do with Stray Kids. Your mind clicks back into reality, and you stop breathing as you click on it with your mouse. 

“Bang Chan of K-Pop group ‘Stray Kids’ rumoured to be dating”

The bold title leaps at you, and your eyes seem to be glued to it, rereading it over and over again. Eventually, you remember you need to breathe, and exhale as you scroll down the page. You lick your lips nervously as you skim the article and briefly assess the photos complimenting it. Overall, the both of you had done an exemplary job at keeping your face hidden. None of the photos showed more than your hair and eyes. It was so blatantly obvious that it was Chris in the photos though, which would make it hard to refute the idea that he was dating at all.

He so… clearly was. Although taken out of context, and in the incorrect sequence of events, every single picture that had Chris’ expression in it displayed genuine worry, or a fondness that couldn’t be mistaken. Fuck. You glance up at Chris, wondering if he’d seen the article yet, but he appears to be engrossed in his work, his headphones snug around his ears, biting his bottom lip in concentration.

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out a shuddering breath, trying to mentally prepare yourself for the following days, heck, the following weeks. Maybe even months. And now, the inexplicable urge to have Chris next to you overwhelms you. You might lose him soon, and you’re busy working away? He’s right there. Metres away, and he’s not snuggling with you? How pathetic.

“You’re too far away,” you grumble, staring pointedly at him and crossing your arms. Chris glances up and pulls his headphones off, “Sorry?” “Why’re you so farrrr?” you pout, mimicking the same grabby motions he had used earlier. You stare sadly in his silence, watching the corner of his mouth twitch, “The outlet is here, and you made it so comfy.”

Internally, you curse your kindness and sniff in disappointment, turning back to your work, “Fine then, be that way.” “Don’t be so dramatic,” Chris scoffs, putting his headphones back over his ears, but his grin has finally broken through.

Just as you knew he would, after a few more minutes of silence, but little work, Chris unplugs his computer and saunters over to you, plopping down next to you with a quiet grunt. You give him a little smirk, and a classic side eye, then go back to pretending to be completely absorbed in your report.

“Shut up,” he sighs, snuggling closer so your shoulders are touching. “I didn’t say anything,” you grin, cherishing his warmth, his presence. Now your productive mood has evaporated, the event you were trying to distract yourself from having already occurred.

You put in your best effort to write another paragraph but give up halfway through and end up staring blankly at the screen, mind trying to think over how best you convince Chris to let you go. A thought crosses your mind, and you consider it wholeheartedly, directing your brain power into imagining the past two years without Chris in your life.

What if you had never accepted his request to film Skz-Code in your café? What if you had ghosted him when he messaged you? What if you hadn’t noticed him, standing on that bridge? What if you were too occupied with James? What if… no… he’d be dead.

The thought remains in the forefront of your mind, and without your knowledge, tears begin to trickle down your cheeks. Somehow, a part of you knew that you were meant to see him then. You couldn’t explain that searing pain or voice in your head, and you weren’t about to try and figure it out now. Chris has been watching you for a while now, his head turned slightly, eyes flickering from your stock-still hands to the misery in your expression.

He reaches across and gently wipes one of your tears away, making you flinch in surprise. Truthfully, he was quite comfy where he was by the outlet. He wasn’t planning on moving to sit next to you, knowing full well that he’d lose all sense of productivity by snuggling up to you. That all changed when his phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a message in the group chat consisting of only Stray Kids. Hyunjin had sent the article, and he didn’t need to click on it to know what it was about.

Hyunjin: “Chan? You know about this right?” Chris: “yeah”

Hyunjin: “what’re you going to do?”

Felix: “is Y/N okay?” Felix: “you haven’t broken up yet have you?”

His heart throbbed at the thought, and he swiftly typed out a response, trying to quell the onslaught of questions and comments of concern from them all.

Chris: “I’ll sort it out” Chris: “I’m not breaking up with her”

It clicked in his head then, why you were complaining about him being so far away, when you’d been working like this for the past 2 and a half hours perfectly fine.

“I told you to not think about that under any circumstance,” he whispers, watching as you hastily wipe your tears away. His mind is already working overtime, conjuring a risky plan. “I’m not- I wasn’t… I- did you see the article?” you murmur, trying to organise your thoughts.

“Mhm… and I’m about to do something about it,” he takes a deep breath in, closes up his production software and opens up YouTube, “You trust me, yeah?” 

Your eyes widen as he begins to set up a live, and you grab his arm to stop him, “Chris you can’t. What will JYP say?” “I don’t give a damn about what he’ll say,” he scoffs, briefly checking what episode number of Chan’s Room he’s up to. It’s only Saturday, but you figure it doesn’t matter now. (A/N: Sit with it. I know Chan's Room is on hiatus shush, no need to remind me.)

“You better give a damn Christopher because your entire career is on the line right now,” you snap back, and a fizzle of fear simmers through you as Chris’ eyes flutter closed and his jaw clenches. “Do you… trust me…?” he asks again, opening his eyes to stare at you, unblinking. You gulp and slowly nod.  “Pull up ‘Insomnia’ for me then babe.” 

You have such a bad feeling about this.

--

You’re sitting in complete silence, trying to read the spam of comments on the side of his screen as Chris chats away happily, using his phone to play song requests and make recommendations of his own. The article was only recently released, but you can’t be sure of where else the photos have been leaked.

You’re about 20 minutes in when you spot the first comment asking about the photos. Chris either doesn’t see it, or intentionally ignores it, and continues asking for more song requests. 30 minutes in and the entire chat is swamped with questions about the same topic. You.

So far, Chris hasn’t spared you a glance once, knowing full well that his fans would ask about who he was looking at. This time however, he turns towards you, asking you a silent question, having finally reached the point of no return, his whole reasoning for starting the live finally occurring. You gulp and quietly nod again, leaning back to grab a pillow from the couch and tuck it protectively in front of you. Chris glances briefly back to the comments, searching for one he can work with.

“Ah! Where am I?” he pipes, looking around the room as though trying to figure that out himself, “I am… on a brief vacation…” he pauses to read the comments again, engaging with the audience professionally.

“No no, not in a hotel- I mean… um…” he sighs and rubs his face, and suddenly you don’t know how you feel about how easy it is for him to act, “I’m… um… I’m actually at my girlfriend’s house?” he grins sheepishly, a squeaky laugh escaping. The chat explodes with a new wave of comments.

“Yeah so you all saw the photos right? I was um… a little sad to see them, because Stays have always been… you know, respectful. But yeah, I am dating her.” If the comments were projected in actual voices, your head would have combusted. There are so many, and majority of them are in capitals, and you’re struggling to comprehend even only a single one.

Chris, used to this, reads one out loud for the benefit of his viewers. “Is she with me? Yeah, well yeah, I am um… in her house,” he laughs, adjusting the computer a little on his lap, “You want to meet her? Ooh I don’t know, I think we’d have to ask her.” 

He looks at you, his eyes wide, and you smile in encouragement, but internally you’re a panicked disaster. “Oh-kay, hang on guys,” Chris announces, sitting up so he can push his computer further away along the floor. When he returns to your side, you’re now visible in the screen, eyes paralysed with fear, half hiding behind a couch pillow.

Chris props his elbow up on the couch, resting his head on his hand, the other resting comfortably on your thigh, squeezing it in encouragement. You wave shyly at the camera, offer a small smile, and try to burrow yourself further into the pillow. “Jagi… it’s okay, you don’t have to read the comments, Stay just wants to meet you.” 

You take a deep breath, briefly glance at Chris, who’s smiling comfortingly, and slowly lower the pillow. “Hi Stay. Do I need to tell them my name?” you inquisitively ask, and Chris shakes his head, “Only if you want to.”

You consider it, then decide not to, “Yeah. Hi. I am… Bang Chan’s girlfriend. I promise I’m looking after him, don’t worry.” Chris’ grin widens, and he reaches over to pull you into his arms. You wriggle to get comfortable, trying to think of what to say.

“Uh… like Chan said earlier, he is… at my house- how in the world do you do this every single week? I can’t think of anything to say,” you start, turning to look at Chris. He smiles and pecks your forehead, causing you to jerk back in surprise. “It takes a while to get the hang of it,” his eyes briefly flicker down to your lips, and you scramble out from his hold and onto the couch behind him.

“I think I need the comments to rebound off, but I also… don’t want to read them,” you stammer. Chris is grinning cheekily at the computer screen, and his hands reach up behind him, using the camera to locate you, and tugs your legs around his shoulders, so his head is now in between your knees.

“You see what I have to deal with Stay?” you chide, trying to extricate yourself from him, embarrassed at how intimate he’s being on live.  “But I’ve never seen you this nervous before, it’s so cute,” he laughs. You grab the nearest couch cushion and whack him on the head with it, making him laugh even harder.

“Okay, okay. I’ll read the comments for you,” Chris gasps, crawling towards the computer to lay on his stomach. “How did we meet? Oi babe, do you wanna explain this?” he asks, twisting to look back at you slightly, his eyebrow raised.

“Oh um, I don’t know. You were at my café?” you shrug. “You make it sound so unromantic,” he grimaces, turning back to the computer screen. “Well it wasn’t really,” you frown, hopping off the couch to lie down beside him.

“Okay, I’ll tell them how we met then,” he grins, and you stare at him, wondering what kind of fabricated story he’s going to garble now. There’s no way he’s going to mention how he almost launched himself off a bridge and you stopped him. “She saw me outside her café and I looked a little lost, so she asked if I needed help and she was so respectful and nice, offered me a croissant and drink for the road, and I was down bad.”  

You roll your eyes at him and place your chin in your hands to read some comments. Surprisingly, there were more positive comments than negative, although the negative ones still made your stomach churn. Perhaps that one edit was right, Stay’s wouldn’t care if the Skz-Members started dating, they’d just be happy the members were getting bitches at all.

For a while, the pair of you take turns rebounding stories of your relationship, switching positions to the couch, to the floor to standing up and stretching frequently. Chris occasionally transitions into Korean, catering for his target audience’s needs, but he still translates for you, chuckling about how he should speak it more often at home so you can learn some too.

You’re asked how well you know the Stray Kids members, and a whole bunch of other questions that you ignore. You do your best to ignore the negative comments too, but they’re starting to get to you a little, and at some point the negative comments definitely outweigh the positive.

Chris pauses in the middle of trying to explain the context for the photos taken today, his eyes caught on a particular comment. He pushes himself up and reaches for the computer, scrolling back through the chat to locate it. As soon as he finds it, his expression goes resolute, and a little gasp escapes your mouth.

Go kill yourself.

You know with your whole heart that it’s directed towards you, but it doesn’t bother you as much as it should. Instead, the phrase stirs memories in your mind, positive you’ve heard it before. And of course you have, in your mind, the first time you saw Chris. You turn to try and read his expression, but it’s gone blank, his eyes void of emotion. “Chan,” he doesn’t move at all, his eyes still locked on the comment, “Chris. Baby.”

You nudge him slightly, but it’s like his soul has completely left his body. He’s not even here anymore. “Jagi. Babe. Channie,” you wriggle closer to him and whisper in his ear, “Christopher.” 

He inhales sharply and turns to you, eyes foggy with confusion. “Are you okay?” you quietly ask him, reaching over to rub his back comfortingly.  “Are you? We can stop if you want,” he pushes himself up into a seated position and crawls over to lean back on the couch. You follow, snuggling up to him, a dawning realisation emerging from the depths of who knows where, “I’m fine.”

It should have been obvious. It should have been painfully obvious. That voice was him right. On that day. He had seen a comment just like this one in a live. And that’s what he was doing on that bridge. Chris falls silent for the rest of the live, and you try your best to talk your way through it, drawing the computer closer to you after a while so you don’t have to lean forward to read the comments.

You yawn and check the time via the clock on the wall. It’s almost 12am. You peek at Chris, trying to signify that he should probably end the live, but his eyes are drifting shut, and his breathing has grown heavy. “Yeah so… thank you Stays, for giving me the opportunity to meet you all.”

Chris’ head suddenly droops onto your shoulder, and you glance at him again, a small smile forming on your face, before you return to address the live.

“I hope… I hope you’ll all be supportive… of Chris and I… he means the world to me… and that might not mean much to you, because he definitely means the world to a lot of you as well,” you find yourself stroking the curls off his forehead, and in his semi-conscious state, he snuggles even closer, his lips forming words that are only just barely audible, “I love you.”

You turn back to the live, eyes wide in disbelief, wondering if he was loud enough for the live. Clearly he was, the chat has fallen apart again. You chuckle and kiss his head gently, “I love you too Chris.” 

--

Later on, he wakes to a stiffness in his neck and back, his head still resting on your shoulder. He winces and sits up, eyeing your sleeping posture with your head resting up against the couch, his computer sitting in your lap.

“You should have woken me up…” he mumbles quietly, knowing full well that you could not hear a word, “I love you jagi… more than you know…” Chris sighs and shuffles over to you, sliding his laptop onto the floor. Carefully, he tucks a gentle hand around the back of your neck, supporting your head, the other in the crook of your knees. As quietly as he can, he hoists you up into his arms and steadily walks over to your bedroom. 

He stumbles a bit as he tries to lay you down, and you stir slightly. Eventually, he manages to pull the covers over you, and he tucks you in neatly. You groan and mumble something incoherent, and he waits with bated breath, wondering if you’re going to wake up.

“I… could beat the shit out of you…” you murmur, and Chris allows himself a smile. He bends down and kisses you softly, his heart aching with all the words he wishes he could say, all the love he wishes he could give. “You absolutely could… and the insane thing is… I would let you…” he softly whispers, then leaves your side to turn off the lights around the apartment.

He scoops up your laptop and his, puts them both on charge in the office and then goes on the hunt for his phone. He finds it not too far away from where your laptops were abandoned, and as soon as he clicks the screen to check for notifications, his heart sinks into his stomach, settling uncomfortably there at the sight of the messages.

He chooses to open the group chat first, smiling slightly at their words of encouragement. They were watching the live earlier, and continuing to tease him even through messages, providing running commentary. 

The latest messages, however, make him hate his career for a second. Only for a second. 

Jeongin: “the managers are saying you need to come back” Jeongin: “now…” Jeongin: “I think they’ve booked a flight for you”

Chris sighs and opens up the message from one of his managers. Sure enough, there’s a passive-aggressive request for him to return to Korea, a flight ticket attached. He clicks it to check the time of departure, and seethes when he realises the flight is in 2 hours. Jeongin wasn’t kidding when he said ‘now’.

He takes a moment to compose himself, already trying to work through his argument in his head, and starts to gather his belongings, turning on the lights again. They’re strewn out everywhere; wallet on the bench, clothes folded on the couch, composing gear in the studio, paperwork in the office. He rubs his face vigorously in his hands as he tries to fit them all nicely into his suitcase and travel bags.

“Chris…?” you yawn, head peeking tiredly out of your room. His heart cracks as he looks up at your drowsy state, unsure about how he should tell you he had to leave. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry,” he sighs, standing up gingerly, his knees cracking, “try and go back to sleep, I’ll wake you up later.”

He gulps as you take in his gathered belongings, but your dazed expression doesn’t change. “You weren’t planning on leaving without saying goodbye were you?” you mumble, walking over with a stretch and hugging him with a squeeze. Chris’ breath catches in his throat, and he wraps his arms securely around you. If only he could freeze time.

“I’d never do that to you, I just didn’t mean to wake you,” he sighs, swaying the pair of you gently. “What time’s your flight?” you pull away from him with wide eyes, fully awake now. Chris’ jaw clenches, and he pulls out his phone to check the current time. “In one and a half hours.” “They couldn’t have given you more time?” you grimace, stepping away from him to pick up his possessions and start packing.

“Apparently not.” After a minute of watching your silent movements, he goes back to packing, heart simultaneously swelling and shattering. He knows you’re thrown off by his sudden departure, a few days earlier than scheduled. He can tell by the way you zone out frequently as you pass him his clothes. He can tell by the way you stare absently at his laptop. He can tell by your carefully controlled expression, displaying no sadness, but a forced strength. 

Chris doesn’t have to take everything that belongs to him. He returns as often as he can, so by this point he has his own toiletries here, his own drawer of clothes, his favourite snacks and drinks in the kitchen. He just wishes he didn’t have to leave his favourite belonging. You.

After another 15 minutes, he’s fully packed and he’s sitting on the couch with you tucked safely in his arms, basking in your warmth, but a little terrified in the fragility of the silence. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.” You nod, knowing ‘as soon’ could mean anything from two weeks to six months. “Don’t worry about anything okay? I promise… everything will be okay. JYP can’t do anything to my career, he needs me – and I’m going to use that as leverage.”

You nod again, mind on a completely different train of thought. “I’m not going to lose you, I swear. I’m never going to let you go.” He takes his words quite literally this time.

He almost missed his flight. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

-> PART 6　 -> Masterlist

A/N: Yay…? Milestone Event 5 Check…?

Feedback is always appreciated, negative and positive alike. I apologise for any editing errors, I’m forever learning.

Until next read… - Kaisowoo

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Bengiyo Queer Cinema Syllabus

For those who are not aware, I have decided to run the gauntlet of @bengiyo’s Queer Cinema Syllabus and have officially started Unit 3: Faith and Religion. The films in Unit 3 are: But I’m a Cheerleader (2000), Prayers for Bobby (2009), Latter Days (2003), Blackbird (2014), The Wise Kids (2011), Henry Gamble’s Birthday Party (2015)

Today I will be writing about

Latter Days (2003) dir. C. Jay Cox

[Run Time: 1:48 , Available: tubi, youtube premium, amazon but you have to get a free trial to something else…I tried watching it…somewhere else but they were updating the movie so I caved and went to tubi, Lang: English] 

Summary: Latter Days is a 2003 American romantic comedy-drama film about a gay relationship between a closeted Mormon missionary and his openly gay neighbor. (from wiki)

Cast: * Wes Ramsey as Christian Markelli * Steve Sandvoss as Elder Aaron Davis 

___

Content Warnings because I don't really write about those parts of the movie here: this film gets to a dark place, it includes self harm/a suicide attempt, homophobia, medical torture, and a story about being left to die by a parent. Alright, so after sufficiently crying my eyes out binging Eternal Yesterday, I decided there was enough time in the evening to knock out another film from the syllabus. Today’s film was (partially) about Mormons and Mormonism. My own personal understanding of Mormonism does not extend too far beyond The Book of Mormon: The Musical. Which gave me some impression that homosexuality is a sin, but only if acted upon. 

Which, is gonna suck for our poor dear Elder Davis, when he and three other Elders roll in to Los Angeles and in to a house across from our beloved booty shorts wearing waiter. The movie seems pretty low budget, and it’s from 2003 so there are some, what I would call cheesy camera effects happening at the beginning, but I still enjoyed the way the world seemed sped up and disorienting when Mr. Mormon lands in Los Angeles from his home in Idaho. 

I love our introduction to Christian as an unapologetically queer, slutty man and not only that, but Christian has his sex life together. He remembers who he has slept with, and when, and takes fucking notes and everything. Like, he’s truly impressive. 

gif from @bl-bam-beyond

Aaron and Christian make eye contact as every love at first sight story is wont to do, and then realize later they are neighbors. At which point a lot of decently subtle things start to happen. Aaron starts sitting outside to study his scripture in hopes of running in to Christian, Aaron and Christian talk about his mission trip, we get to see the four Elders interact, etc. and these subtler moments were aspects of this film that I deeply appreciated. 

Do not get me wrong, this film is absolutely critical of the Mormon church, (there is a scene near the end of the film where Elder Davis is getting excommunicated from the church for being a homosexual), but there are a lot of quite parts they do not say out loud around the intentional isolation that The Church of Latter Day Saints creates by sending their boys on missions trips in the first place. 

This film does not, in my opinion, explicitly discuss or state that mission trips really seem to be less to recruit new members and more to make sure their younger members don’t go running off to join the rest of society. The Elders are not allowed to see their family for two years, their families are not allowed to see them, they are not allowed to listen to music, to watch television, all the Elders in that location live together in one house, they share a room so there is no privacy, they go knocking door to door to try to spread the word only to have the doors slammed repeatedly in their face. These tactics exist to make these boys homesick, to make the outer world seem hostile, to bring the Mormon roommates closer together when the outsiders push them away. But the implication is there. 

I have to share the quote that comes with this gif: "You're gonna come in to my house and tell me God hates homosexuals?" || "And the French!"

And actually, the thing I appreciate the most about this commentary is the fact that the Elders are aware of this, and that they are allowed to be young men. I loved that one Elder was talking to Aaron about how mission trips were designed to be difficult, and that you can tell he is generally disinterested in spreading The Word. This Elder views his mission trip as the last major hoop he has to jump through before he can marry his girlfriend and “finally nail her”. Horniness fuels his motivation to get through this mission. 

These “Elders” (and I put quotes here not to strip them of their titles but to point out the irony) are nineteen or twenty years old. They are fucking gross. Their apartment is decorated like boys live there, with bean bag chairs and all, and they fart on each other, and wrestle, and bite their bedframes to try to stop themselves from jerking off. Hell, when they first move in, Christian mistakes them for a frat house. They are homophobic, and throw slurs around, but they look incredulous at the mere thought of consuming alcohol. 

The first time Aaron is faced with the potential to give in to his gay thoughts, he tells Christian he hasn’t done anything. When Christian says it doesn’t have to mean anything and Aaron says “yes it does”, he asks “my first time can just be a little fun for you?” like Aaron was fully planning on having sex with Christian. I like that Aaron, as a young man is going 0 to 100 with the physical intimacy. 

I often have difficulty with romance stories in movie formats because I have to push past how quickly two characters fall in love. Which is the case here that Christian is confessing his love for Aaron after they have interacted like…five times total. But, I appreciate the ways they show us that Christian and Aarong would be good for each other. We see them being absolute nerds, saying movie quotes to each other. I love that we know Aaron is going to break the rules and eventually give in to Christian, just based on the fact that he gives Christian his first name. Which he is not supposed to use when he’s on his mission trip.

gif from @bl-bam-beyond

I am not a religious person, so I don’t usually pay attention to whether or not a film that critics religion is going to take a hard atheistic turn or not. But I actually thought it was compassionate, kind, and in keeping with the nature of like, religion as spirituality, versus religion as control and fear tactic. I like that all these little coincidences happened, that Christian saw Aaron through his taxi cab window, that Aaron talked to and comforted Lila (Christians’ boss) when she was having a bad day and she gave him her card and told him to come to her restaurant for a free meal, that when Christian is looking for Aaron his random doodles end up being the phone number he needs to call, that Julie in stealing entries from Christian’s diary for her song allowed Aaron to hear it in the facility his parents put him in and return to LA, and that Aaron and Christian were reunited because Aaron cashed in on that free meal from Lila. 

And so too with the man Christian meets who is dying of AIDS, how he touches him and only sees snow. How he chalks that up to Christian being a blank person, shallow. The same way that Aaron has described Christian “there is nothing, nothing about you, Christian that isn’t skin deep”. And how we see Christian recoil from the touch, from the words ‘snow’ (and we will come to find out later, why that is the case).

Like these can all be coincidences, or they could be chalked up to fate, or a higher power, or whatever you want. Latter Days does not reject the idea of religion, it leaves room for a religious, higher power explanation to exist. Aaron and Aaron’s faith, the way he views the world, the importance that his values hold to him do still impact Christian. I don’t know how much he believes in God, but when Aaron calls him shallow, he takes that to heart, he really thinks about it, he realizes that what has been drawing him to Aaron is the depth, the conversations, they aren’t just gonna fuck. 

Not that I think monogamy needs to happen, or that Christian needs to have calmed down the sluttiness. Just, that in a film about religion and its intersections with sexuality, when you are going to be critical of a Church that has done very very real harm. That there is a mutual exchange here. Christian gets more depth as a result of meeting Aaron and Aaron (eventually) gets freedom as a result of meeting Christian. 

BL Side Note

I also need to say, since this syllabus is technically supposed to act as a lead up to BLs, that Latter Days has the sponge bath trope! Aaron wipes down Christian’s body with a washcloth after he faints from seeing blood. The sexual tension rises between Aaron and Christian, until they are about a fraction of a second away from kissing, and Aaron bails. 

For/By/About 

Gay Trifecta.

The director of Latter Days, C. Jay Cox is a gay man and a (former) fifth generation Mormon. 

This film did not hit me in the emotional place where I would normally say the films I rate as For The Queers go. But, this is a deeply personal film for the screen writer and Director who is gay and therefore it feels like it should be for gays. And, in addition I feel like they were enough casual references to things that don’t get full explanations that would read and be understood by a queer audience but maybe not by a straight audience. I think there are dimensional portrayals of the queer characters and they don’t succumb to stereotypes, and for those reasons I would categorize it as being for us. 

Favorite Moment 

The post-sex conversation that Aaron and Christian have, where Aaron asks if Christian has ever had the experience of being cut off from everything, and we finally get some more of Christian’s backstory. Now, like I said above, there are some understated aspects of this film that I do think are really smart. Aaron calls Christian shallow at one point, and my first thought was “oh honey, you are wrong” because of how Christian spoke to Aaron earlier on in the movie about being desperate to get away from home. Sure, Christian is generally now, emotionally reserved and has some growing to do. But, Aaron vastly underestimates the weight behind a gay man saying that he left home and never looked back. Because Aaron had a good relationship to his family (before he came out). 

If the monologue wasn’t multiple paragraphs I would probably put the whole speech as my favorite quote.  But, fundamentally what makes this scene for me is that Christian is telling Aaron this, while they are both naked in bed. Aaron has just had sex for the first time, and there is just this level of casual inclusion of nudity. I am generally an advocate for increasing the inclusion of non-sexual nudity on screen. I feel like people tend to spend a lot more causal time naked than they do sexual time naked, and I think Latter Days did a really phenomenal job of shifting between sexual nudity and casual nudity in the same setting, with the same characters, at the same time. 

When Aaron and Christian first enter the airport hotel, they are shedding their clothing with the intention of having sex. The scene is charged with sexual tension, shirts and pants are coming off as fast as they can, every movement brings them closer to the bed. But after they are done, Aaron, still naked, slides across Christian’s naked body to grab a watch off the floor, and Christian holds his leg so he won’t slide off the bed. It’s just comfortable. When Christian is talking to Aaron about his experience of being left in a snowstorm by his father, they are nude because they are being laid bare. I don’t know if I can describe it properly, but I just love that this really important conversation, where Aaron is learning that Christian understands far far better than Aaron ever could have thought about what you risk losing when you are queer, happens with literally everything out in the open. 

Favorite Quote 

“It’s early November, the same as now, and there's this storm rolling in. My dad was so determined that sissy boy was going to kill something. Snow came at us from all sides. The air, the sky, the ground they all became the same and horrible screaming white and I thought ‘we’re gonna be OK, right?” And then I saw my father’s eyes and they were that same white…and that’s when he did it.” “He did what?”  “Ran.” 

This quote comes from part of the monologue I mentioned in my Favorite Scene.

Score

8/10

Latter Days is an 8/10 for me for a few reasons, the acting was not always the best, it was clear they did not have either the time or the budget for perfection. There were stutters that read far more like actors forgetting their lines than they did like natural pauses. I also was not thrilled with the death fake out. Like, I am very much glad we did not see Aaron self-harm, and that some of the other torture he went through gets dampened a bit by dream sequence shenanigans. I figured that they were not actually going to kill Aaron off, but they do spend quite a lot of time letting the audience think he is dead, and I am not super appreciative of that.

[roseofdarknessblog]

Good and Evil (Porco Galliard x Tybur!Reader)

Word count: 7 834

Disclaimer: english is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any mistakes  

Summary: In a rather unfortunate twist of events, you end up inheriting the War Hammer Titan instead of your older sister Lara. 

Good and Evil

The rich silver moonlight was spilling into the otherwise dark bedroom, making everything seem a little bit nicer. Every poorly lit corner of this damned room seemed so familiar and foreign at the same time. You’ve never spent that much time here – in this bedroom or this house alone. Well, at least not for the last couple of years.

Liberio, the town you were born and raised in, became an almost complete stranger to you. You loved coming back, even though leaving again was more than painful. But you had no other choice. You were the youngest of the Tybur children, Willy and Lara’s younger sister, who was born years after your parents stopped hoping for another child.

Maybe that’s why they needed to always keep an eye on you. Always keep you in a perfect golden cage, so nothing would happen to you. They still saw you as their precious innocent daughter, who only does what her parents demand from her.

„You okay?“ Shivers ran down your bare back when a very familiar male voice spoke from behind you. When you looked over your shoulder, while you were sitting up in bed, your eyes landed on the silhouette of your lover. „You seemed a little lost in your thought the whole evening.“

„I don’t want you to go,“ you said in a quiet voice.

„Back to the front?“ You nodded and pulled the duvet closer to your chest, your eyes meeting with Porco’s. „You know I have to go. The war is far from over, unfortunately. We still have lots of battles to fight.“

„I know, but...“

„Y/N,“ Porco said and sat up, moving a little closer to you. One of his strong arms hugged you from behind, his lips pressing to the warm skin of your shoulder. You knew he’ll have to go soon. Despite that, you dreamed about waking up in his arms on a nice slow, and sunny morning. „I get where you’re coming from. But you need to understand me and my situation as well. Even if I didn’t have to go back, what would you want me to do? We both know there’s no way your family could know about us.“

You swallowed hard and brought your knees to your chest. Anxiety and sadness were starting to creep up on you once again. „I’m tired of hiding and sneaking around. We both deserve to be happy.“

„I am happy,“ Porco whispered against your skin, hugging you tighter and pulling your back against his chest. His head rested against yours, while he found one of your hands and interlocked your fingers. „And that has to be enough for now.“

„But it’s not. Not for me. Not anymore.“ Those words hurt you, but you needed to say them out loud. You needed Porco to know, how you truly felt. Being honest with one another was always very important to you. „I don’t want to live like this anymore.“

Porco sighed quietly, pressing his lips behind your left ear. „What exactly do you want me to do? What would make you happy?“

„Living a normal life. With you.“

You and Porco met way back, almost ten years ago, when you still lived in Liberio and the both of you were just kids. Being friends with him was always a little bit strange. But you liked spending time with the younger one of the Galliard brothers. Since Willy and Lara were a lot older than you, they never really wanted to spend time with you. So you pretty often wandered around the town and looked for somebody, who would play with you. Of course, only after slipping past your family’s guards, who always lurked around the residence.

One day, you came across the military headquarters of the Marleyan military. There you met a group of kids, who were heading home, amongst them Porco and his older brother Marcel. You walked them all the way to the gates of the Internment zone, asking a lot of questions about their military training.

From that day forward, you kept coming back and walking them back to the gates. You got to know the other Warriors the same way and were so grateful for your new friends. Even though they lived very different lives than you. Despite that, you formed a unique bond with all of them – even Annie, who took the longest to warm up to you.

„That’s not possible right now, we’re at war and nobody knows how long it’s going to stay this way,“ Porco said, his lips gently brushing against your ear.

„Porco, we’ve been at war for almost three years now, I’m very well aware of what’s happening.“

After Porco wasn’t chosen to inherit a Titan and go to Paradis, the two of you got even closer. Day by day, your relationship was getting stronger... and when you both turned seventeen, it started becoming intimate like never before. You were drawn to him, just like he was to you. Even despite everything, especially your family moving again from Liberio.

Staying away from Porco for days, weeks and sometimes even months was the hardest and most painful thing. You missed him dearly every waking hour of the day and hoped to at least see him in your dreams. So when there was a chance to come back to Liberio, you took it and always snook out to meet with Porco, who you loved more and more every day.

„There is nothing I can do right now, you have to understand that. I’m a Warrior, serving Marley has to be my priority.“

You nodded, feeling tears start to dwell in your eyes. „I’m tired of always being second. Tired of losing to this shitty situation.“

„What?“

„Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. I’m never your priority, Porco. Maybe once I was, but not anymore.“

You felt that something between you changed during these last few months. While you still loved him just like before, you felt something... something strange but unimaginably painful. He was changing and there was nothing you could do, to prevent that. Even when you tried to understand his situation and new obligations, which came after he finally got one of the Nine Titans.

You felt that you were slowly but surely losing him.

Nothing about your relationship seemed the same. Except... except the overwhelming love you still felt toward Porco Galliard, the new Jaw Titan. That love was still there, inside your heart and your whole being, threatening to suffocate you many times, while you cried about your situation.

„I love you,“ he whispered. But it didn’t sound like it used to before. Now it was merely an automatic response and a way to shut you up when you started talking about something similar.

You shook your head. „You don’t love me like you used to.“ All your words were quiet and full of sorrow, which was trying to claw its way from the center of your chest. „I’m not stupid, I can feel it, Porco.“

When he stayed quiet, the very first tear of that night rolled down your cheek. The silence broke your heart all over again. Foolishly, but you hoped he would say something. You hoped he would object.

Porco took a deep breath before he spoke. When he pulled away from you and let go of your hand, a sudden strong wave of paralyzing pain shot through your whole body. „You know that this thing between us has no real future,“ he finally said, his voice sounding somehow distant but sad at the same time. „You’re a Tybur, basically a nobel everyone admires and praises. And I’m just an Eldian. A weapon for Marley, nothing more.“

„Not for me.“ He laughed quietly and quickly got out of bed. You didn’t dare to look in his direction, while he was searching for his pants on the floor. „When did it happen? When did you stop loving me like you used to?“

Another long moment of silence made you want to scream in frustration. You were so naive when you thought that your relationship with Porco would grant you a happy future. Your love was never destined to last, that was the harsh reality you refused to see for so many months now.

Like a stupid child, you held onto broken promises and empty words. Long lost dreams and imaginary fairytales you kept telling yourself to numb the pain and emptiness inside your soul.

„I don’t... I don’t know,“ Porco said finally, his voice only a whisper.

„And did you want to tell me? Or was I supposed to figure it out on my own?“ Your cold tone made you sick, but suddenly that was all you were capable of. That or having a complete breakdown right there in front of him. „Did I do something that made you feel this way?“

You desperately wanted and needed to know. Only for Porco to stay completely quiet and let you guess all of the answers on your own. He was never cold or heartless, not to you, no. Never to you. Maybe that was the reason your heart felt like it was ripping into millions of tiny pieces. Just a few hours back, when his hands and lips were all over your body, you couldn’t even think about a similar conversation. Better said... you didn’t want to. All you wanted and needed, was to feel him close to you after so many months.

„Many things changed these past few years, us including,“ Porco finally said. When you looked at him, he was almost fully clothed again. Only his jacket with the red armband was missing. „I still love you, I really do. But I think we need to go our separate ways from this day forward. I’m returning to the front to fight for Marley and you should...“ he swallowed hard, visibly battling with his words. „You should find someone, who your family is going to approve.“ His defeated expression with a tiny sad smile made many more tears run down your cheeks. „I think that will be best for the both of us.“

You wanted to scream, cry and beat some sense into him. Everything he was saying was nonsense. Wasn’t it? Who cared about your family and their approval? You wanted Porco, nobody else. It’s been that way for many years and it wasn’t any different now.

„We can talk when I come back from the front. Maybe after the war is over.“

You didn’t say a word. All your strength and attention were focused on wiping away the tears streaming down your cheeks. Porco heard you sob quietly but did nothing to comfort you.

„I’ll always love you, but this is going to be the best for the both of us.“

„Sure,“ you muttered under your breath. „If you think so. Keep telling yourself all these lies. I’m simply not buying it.“

Porco sighed. „Don’t make this unnecessarily hard. We’re both in pain, Y/N. Don’t make it even worse.“

„You know what?“ you asked quietly, hugging your knees tightly. „I always thought, that you wanted the same thing as me. I thought you wanted to have a future with me, to build a family one day.“ You felt so stupid for all of the times you dreamed about your future with Porco. It was all just a dream and you were the only one dreaming it. „I believed, that you would fight for me and for our love. I... I...“ your voice broke for a moment, all the emotions making it hard to breathe. „I always thought, that you would do anything, to keep me in your life. Even come to my parents and ask for their permission to marry me.“

It was obvious, that there was something Porco wasn’t telling you. That’s why you gave him time to gather enough courage to speak up. Porco wasn’t a coward, at least that’s what you thought. However, when he didn’t utter another word and simply headed for the door, you felt as if he was a complete stranger. Not somebody, who tried to convince you about his love only a short while ago.

You heard him mumble something right before he opened the door and slipped out. Coldness was radiating from his every move. You saw him battle with himself to look back at you at least one last time, but his pride, or whatever it was, won. He closed the door after he left the room and left you with a pain so unimaginable, you were sure you won’t see another day.

In just a couple of minutes, your life completely fell apart and lost all meaning. The only thing... only person, who made you excited to wake up every morning, was gone.

„Hey,“ said your older brother in a calm voice, while he rested his hands on your shoulders. You were so mesmerized by the raindrops slipping down the cold window glass, that you didn’t even notice him coming into your room. „I didn’t want to say anything at first, but now I really worry about you, Y/N.“

„Why?“

„Nothing makes you happy anymore. You barely smile or even talk to us. Mother and Father worry about you as well, even Lara seems concerned.“ You shrugged, resting your forehead against the window. „We both know, that this is going on for many months now.“

„What do you want me to say, Willy?“ you asked him, looking over your shoulder and right into his face.

„I want you to talk to me about the things that bother you. Just like when you were little. You always came to me or Lara, when you needed something. And we always tried to help you the best we could.“

Yes, he was right. They did their best when you needed something. Since they were both many years older, they had priceless experiences. And most importantly, they loved you and wanted you to have the best life possible.

Or at least that’s what you always thought.

And then it all changed, almost a year ago. Just a few weeks after Porco Galliard broke your heart. The time for naming the new inheritor of the War Hammer Titan came out of the blue – at least for you. The others already knew, how it was all going to happen. They decided without you. So when your paternal uncle’s life was coming to an end, your family broke the big news. It was you, who they found the most fit for this „noble“ role.

„And I will never forget that. I love both of you, this is nothing personal.“

„Am I supposed to believe it?“

„Believe what you want, I don’t care.“

Since Porco and you broke up, nothing was the same.

Most of your days were spent shut away in your room – crying, regretting many things, and battling many dark and sinister thoughts. And it all got worse when you became the new War Hammer Titan. Your family wanted you to train and learn to use its powers properly. But learning to control a Titan, let alone one with so much power was harder than you ever imagined. But maybe just because you weren’t really trying. You had no energy and motivation for that.

After all, the War Hammer Titan wasn’t meant to fight anyone. Not during these times you were living. It simply became a family heirloom, that needed to be kept safe and passed down every thirteen years.

„Why am I even here, Willy? I don’t have anything to do with this.“

„You do, dear sister. Just because you are the strongest person in our family now. And you swore to lend me this power whenever I’ll need it,“ Willy reminded you, running his hand up and down your back. His voice seemed calm. Maybe too calm given the situation. „Now that time came.“

You stayed quiet, searching the rainy Liberio street for any sign of life. Sadly, it seemed as if you and Willy, the oldest and the youngest of the Tybur siblings, were the only ones here.

„I don’t need you to do or say anything, Y/N. I’ll do the talking, you are just going to stand there behind me and keep quiet.“

„So I’m going to act like a scarecrow?“

Willy nodded. „Basically, yes.“ He leaned closer to you and pressed a little kiss on top of your head. Just like when you were little. „I don’t expect any problems, it’s going to be a meeting like many before. But it’s always good to have a few tricks up my sleeve, don’t you think?“ You didn’t even move a muscle. „It’s good to give certain people a reminder, that we as a family possess such power.“

„I never wanted this,“ you whispered, closing your eyes and swallowing all the pain and sorrow that were trying to suffocate you. „And you knew it more than well.“

„Don’t forget what you did, Y/N. After that, there was no other way.“

„What did I do? Fall in love? Was that really so bad, that you had to punish me this way? I gave up my life for this family, I only have twelve years left, nothing more.“

Yes, your parents and siblings found out about your previous relationship with Porco. Well... they didn’t know, who exactly you were in a relationship with. You successfully kept that a secret. But how did they find out, that you recently had a lover? Shortly after you and Porco broke up, you found out, that you were pregnant. And hiding something like that wasn’t possible. Not in the Tybur household.

Since you didn’t want to tell who the father was, your family automatically assumed, that it was a filthy Eldian. And when you didn’t object, you basically signed your own death. If you didn’t want to end up disowned and stripped of your name, which guaranteed you many important rights, you had to obey and do everything your parents asked you to do.

You gave up your unborn child and with unimaginable emptiness in your heart and soul ultimately gave up your own life as well. Why? Because you were scared, lost, and hurt. You had nothing and nobody. Not really. Not in the way you needed.

Going through these events changed you beyond recognition. When you looked into the mirror, you barely recognized yourself. However, the saddest part was, that your family saw it too, while they probably had no regrets about their choices. They didn’t act like they would regret putting you through so much suffering.

„How can you act like nothing happened, Willy?“

„I don’t act like nothing happened. I’m just doing my best to navigate the reality we live in now.“

„The reality all of you chose for me.“

With these words, you slipped past your brother and made your way to the dresser. Willy watched you pick out clothes for the evening and then left you alone to change into them and get ready. In the end, it didn’t even matter what you were going to wear. The only important piece of clothing was the full-length black cloak with a massive hood, which hid your face more than perfectly. Despite that, you had to wear a white porcelain mask, that symbolized the War Hammer Titan.

Nobody could know, who in your family had this power. It was like that for many, many years and you had no other choice than to follow these rules.

So once again, you did what you had to. You got into a carriage with your brother and headed for his meeting together. While he talked to the merchants and some politicians you didn’t know, you were standing by the door and keeping your mouth shut. You didn’t even pay attention to what they were talking about.

Your only responsibility was to be there in case those people needed a reminder, of who the Tyburs really are.

The meeting was long and tiring. While it lasted, you silently battled the emptiness inside of you, which gradually turned into tears. You could feel them sliding down your cheeks underneath the mask you hated so much. All you wished for, right there at that moment, was to simply drop dead and never open your eyes again.

You weren’t a person anymore. Just a weapon for a family that probably hated you more than anyone for one simple mistake.

For falling in love with someone, who you still couldn’t get over.

After four years, Marley finally won the war and everything was supposed to return to normal. You dreamed about that day many, many times. But you never imagined yourself being trapped in the life you were living now. You never imagined being nothing more than a weapon. A walking corpse with a still beating heart.

Your relationship with Porco Galliard was still on your mind. There wasn’t a day when he wasn’t on your mind. Your heart remained in pieces and your soul was colder than ever since the day of your break up.

„I’m glad you were able to make it today,“ you said kindly, forcing a smile on your lips.

„It’s good to see you again,“ Porco said, resting his back against the chair. It was him, who contacted you right after he came back from the front and said, the two of you should meet. So you both agreed on today. „Although...“

You gave Porco a sad smile. „Just say it, I won’t get mad. I know I look more than horrible.“ He chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. „But you look good. As good as always.“

His offer to meet up shocked you. But you didn’t even consider not accepting it. After all, you longed to see him again. To see his face and hear his voice. Telling him about what happened since you broke up wasn’t your plan. You never wanted him to feel the pain you had to go through. And you certainly never wanted him to know, that the two of you could have been parents.

„Why did you agree to meet up with me?“ Porco asked a little hesitantly, his light hazel eyes studying your face. Today, you actually put effort into getting ready and made sure to look as presentable as possible. „I didn’t expect a positive answer. Better said, I didn’t expect any answer from you at all.“

„I wanted to see you, that’s it.“

„You’re not mad about what I did to you?“ When you shook your head, he seemed to be taken aback. That probably wasn’t the reaction he was counting on. „I see the way you look at me right now. Don’t tell me you’re not mad about how I acted a year ago when we saw each other for the last time.“

„No, I’m not mad, Porco,“ you answered without hesitation, nervously playing with your fingers. „I’m really not mad at all.“

„But what I did...“

„What you did... you hurt me and broke my heart. That’s what you did. I’m still hurt, sad, and confused about why it had to happen. But I’m not mad,“ you tried to explain your feelings to him, without saying more than what was necessary.

You were more than glad, that he was sitting there right opposite of you. The only thing that separated the two of you, was a small table of the local coffee and tea shop. Back in the day, Porco used to take you here for dates. Many beautiful memories were tied to this place. And it felt only natural, probably for the both of you, to meet here once again. Under many different circumstances, however.

„Do you expect an apology from me?“

„More like an explanation,“ you said, watching him run his right hand over his hair. It was smoothed back perfectly, just like every other time. For somebody, who just recently came back from war, he looked more than good. He was still the same handsome young Warrior you fell in love with many years ago. The same person you still loved deeply. „I want to understand what happened between us.“

Porco took a deep breath but ultimately failed to start talking. He kept looking at you, gazing into your eyes and probably searching for the girl you once were. The one he once loved. The realization, that she no longer existed kept hurting you over and over again.

„What happened to you?“ he asked almost too quietly, reaching out his hand towards you. But before he was able to grab your chin or touch your cheek, you pulled away. „I barely recognize you, Y/N.“ His words were full of pain and his eyes overflowing with concern. „Don’t take this the wrong way, but you used to be so astonishingly beautiful and full of life. Full of love and light. And now...“

„I know,“ you said before he could finish.

„What happened? Who did this to you?“

You shook your head and gave him a weak smile. „Let it be, please. That’s not important right now.“

„Your family?“

„Porco!“ you hissed, looking away. It already took almost all of your energy to pretend, that you were doing more than just surviving or waiting for death. With him asking questions he already knew the answers to... „Let’s just settle everything between us finally and then... go our separate ways once again, I guess.“

All you wanted, was him and only him. You still wanted the life you dreamed about in the past – a life with Porco Galliard as your partner. Despite him, and now you too, being a Titan Shifter. You would do the unimaginable, to have that life. To have him back, even if only for a couple of years.

„Okay, so... what do you want to hear? That I’m a coward, who simply got scared? Who didn’t want to burden you with my fate? How was I supposed to marry you, when we both know I’m going to die in a couple of years?“

„I never cared about that and you knew it,“ you objected immediately, your heart filling with even more pain, as you listened to his every word. He didn’t even dare to look you in the eyes all of a sudden, which only made the situation worse.

„But I did, Y/N,“ he said, clenching his hands into fists. „I did.“

„It wasn’t fair, you know? What you did to me... to us.“

He nodded. „I know that now. And I can assure you, that I’m suffering because of how stupid I was back then.“

„Would you take it back if you had the chance?“ you asked, but maybe it would be better not knowing the answer. For almost a whole year you hoped he regretted what he did and said. But you also feared he had zero regrets and actually was much happier than when you were a couple.

„Every single word. Even the ones I never said out loud.“

„That’s...“ You didn’t even know what you wanted to say. During the last year, when you thought about meeting Porco again, you thought you were ready. But now everything was different. Much more complicated. „Why is it so hard to find the right words all of a sudden?“ you asked with a quiet laugh.

„I’m asking myself the same question.“

„There is so much I wanted to tell you. So much I wanted you to know. About me and about us. But... right now... nothing seemed important anymore. All I know is that I... that I still... I still love you. Just like before all of that happened. I love you the same way I loved you a year ago and I know, that it’s never going to change.“

„I never stopped loving you. Quite the opposite. From that day forward I...“ Porco shook his head with a nervous smile and grabbed one of your hands, which was resting on the table. At first, you wanted to pull your hand away, but feeling the warmth radiating from his skin made you feel at ease. „I thought about you every single day. Even on the battlefield when I was fighting.“

„Wasn’t it distracting?“ you joked a little and that surprised the both of you.

„Motivating,“ Porco corrected you and squeezed your hand. „When I was thinking about you, I knew I needed to push forward under every circumstance.“ Holding hands was something that always helped you keep calm. „I knew I had to come back and try to make things right with you.“

„So you want to... you think we should try it again?“

He seemed hesitant, his eyes full of worry but also full of love. „I don’t know, Y/N. If you look at it, nothing changed during that year. You are still you and me... I am still me. We both live in a completely different world and we both know what my future holds.“

„That doesn’t change anything, Porco.“

„It changes so many things. Our whole future.“

„I love you,“ you said, looking straight into his face. „And I want to give our future a shot. Even if all we have are a couple of years.“ The urge to tell him the real truth about everything, every single little thing that happened over the last year, was growing stronger and stronger. He deserved to know, at least some of the things.

But was it the right time?

Did you really want to risk ruining this moment?

„You have to forget me and think about your future with someone, who is not going to leave you in a couple of years. With someone, who your family is going to accept by your side.“

„I don’t care about their opinion, Porco. Not anymore.“

The little coffee and tea shop was buzzing with life. People were coming and going, but nobody paid any attention to you or Porco. For them, you were just another young couple. Nobody knew anything about your lives. Nobody knew your story and all the pain behind it.

And that made you wonder how many of those people suffered because of something similar. How many of them had their heart broken by a partner or their family? How many of them changed because of the pain they weren’t able to chase away? Because of the pain, which was so intense it seemed unbearable and unending.

You were opening your mouth to speak up... to tell him the truth about the baby you were supposed to have, and about you being the new War Hammer Titan. But you bit your tongue in the last possible second and instead gave Porco the warmest smile you were capable of.

It felt better that way.

You didn’t even want to imagine him hurting and suffering the way you did.

„Look, I can’t force you to do anything. If you think, that it’s better if we stay apart... I’m gonna accept it. I just don’t want to argue anymore. I don’t want us to hate each other,“ you spoke at last, trying to take a couple of deep breaths to keep yourself calm and present at the moment.

„We can still be friends,“ Porco got out in a quiet voice, his index finger drawing tiny little circles onto your skin. „I don’t want you to disappear from my life completely.“

Deep down in your heart you knew, that it was the only way. Leaving Porco behind was the only correct thing to do, if you wanted to spare him from all that pain. But never seeing him again... that idea felt as if somebody was ripping your heart from your chest once again.

„I know you’ll have a wonderful life, Y/N,“ Porco spoke again, his thumb grazing over your left ring finger.

„What does it even mean, Porco? How does a wonderful life look like these days?“

He bowed his head, clearly not having the right answer. „I’m afraid you’ll have to ask someone else,“ he chuckled.

Sitting there and holding his hand felt so right. Once again, you felt like a younger and much, much happier version of yourself. Even if it only lasted for a couple of short minutes. Being with Porco reminded you how it felt to be truly alive.

And you missed that feeling dearly and instantly when you and Porco said your goodbyes for that day. On the other hand, you were glad he didn’t have more time and had to go. With all of the emotions floating around you were mere seconds from spilling all your secrets, just so he could help you carry your suffering.

The night was mercilessly cold and almost unending, filled with thick dark clouds, loud thunder, and millions of raindrops. Sleep was avoiding you at all costs, because the only thing you were able to think about, was your meeting with Porco in the morning. When you closed your eyes, you could still feel his hand holding yours. You felt his warmth and his reassuring presence.

But when you opened your eyes once again, the only thing welcoming you back into reality was your old bedroom in the Tybur’s residence in Liberio. The whole family was here – your parents and siblings, even Willy’s wife and kids. You loved your nieces and nephews to bits, every single one of them. But they were always a handful. So full of energy all the time, that nobody could keep up with them.

A festival was set to take place in a couple of days. That was all you knew for now. Better said, that was all Willy wanted you to know. Your place was once again right behind his back, hidden under a mask and ready to threaten anybody, who even tried to disrespect your family.

You were so lost in your own thought, that the quiet knocking on one of your windows went completely unnoticed. But just until that someone knocked a bit louder, finally catching your attention. With furrower brows and a confused look, you threw one of the blankets over your shoulders and went over to the window. Right there, outside in the cold and pouring rain, was Porco Galliard. His hair was all wet and sticking to his forehead, his clothes drenched from rainwater.

„What the hell are you doing here?“ you asked and quickly opened the window. He was standing on the ledge under your window, holding onto one of the thinner decorative pillars which ran around the whole house.

„I forgot something pretty damn important in the morning.“

„What...“ Before you could finish what you were saying, Porco leaned in through the now-open window and pressed his lips against yours.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his waist, to keep him from falling off, while he leaned even closer to deepen your kiss. Was it really a whole year since you kissed his lips for the last time? Because when you closed your eyes at that very moment, it seemed as if no time had passed.

„I love you,“ he whispered a little out of breath, while you rested your foreheads together. Porco kept one of his hands on the back of your neck as if he feared you would run away. But that didn’t even occur to you. „I never stopped and I never will.“ He said something similar during your earlier meeting as well. But right now his words were full of completely different emotions.  

Without saying anything, you just kissed him again, one of your hands cupping his cheek. Feeling his lips against yours could never get old. It has always been one of the best feelings in the entire world. Right from the moment the two of you kissed for the first time.

„Come inside, you need to get those wet clothes off,“ you say, quickly giving him one more kiss before you help him climb inside. This wasn’t the first or the second time Porco has done that. By now he knew how to avoid the guards and sneak past them, to climb up into your room.

As soon as his feet touched the floor in your bedroom, his hands were on your hips, his lips once again in contact with yours. Without even thinking about closing the window to keep the cold out, you pulled his jacket off and tossed it onto the floor. The red armband on his sleeve was forgotten and never once thought about it during the rest of the night. For you, it meant nothing at all. The only important thing was Porco himself.

It was all so easy.

Almost too easy.

Easy to get all of his clothes off, just like many times before. Your fingers knew all too well what to do, while your lips stayed in touch with his, or while they were leaving sweet small kisses along his neck or jaw. It was as if the both of you stopped thinking completely and let your bodies be led by love and desire.

Porco’s warm hands worked magic with your body, he seemed so confident in every single thing he was doing. He knew you. Knew your body and what it liked and asked for. Soon all of your troubles were forgotten, even if only for a short time. Just until the two of you stayed tangled in between the bedsheets, enjoying moments filled with tenderness and affection. And love... so much love it actually made your head spin.

„What will happen next?“ Porco asked, his fingers playing without your hair, while your head was resting on his bare chest. Both of you were still a little flushed and out of breath, but also completely content and maybe even happy.

„I don’t know,“ you said, drawing little circles on his skin with your index finger.

„Do we just get back together? Despite knowing that...“ You lifted your head and kissed him before he had the chance to finish his words. You didn’t want to hear it. Or talk at all.

„What about we just enjoy tonight? And not think about anything else.“

You wanted to be with him. So, so, so bad. But looking back at the mess your life was, wishing for a future with Porco was silly. The Tyburs would never accept him into the family and with you owning the War Hammer, there was no chance that they would let you leave. Even if you and Porco ran away, they would find you. Probably anywhere in the world.

All you truly had, was that one night. Nothing more and nothing less. Only those couple of hours until the storm passed and the sun started to rise. And you spent those hours very wisely. Without talking and worrying, only by enjoying the presence of one another.

Felling his warm body pressed up against yours felt like the most beautiful dream come true. He spent hours playing with your hair or kissing your body in different places. All while you let your fingers trace the muscles all over his body, just to remember them better. You even risked looking him straight in the eyes for longer than a few seconds. And only because you wanted to remember their light hazel color forever. For as long as you’ll be alive.

Watching Porco get up and put on his clothes early in the morning was truly one of the most heartbreaking things you’ve ever had to face. Because while he probably thought, that you can have more nights like this one, you knew better. You knew, that this never could happen again.

But when you were saying your goodbyes, you made sure Porco didn’t suspect anything. Not even when you kissed him for the last time, while your already shattered heart was breaking all over again. Before he left, you lied to him, that you’ll have some important business to attend to with your siblings, so the two of you should meet sometime after the festival. Only because you hoped, that by that time you’ll be far away from Liberio once more.

Away from him and from everything you so desperately wanted to experience only with him by your side.

When you and Porco kissed for the last time that morning, it never even occurred to you, that you truly won’t get another chance to taste his lips ever again. You never thought that you’ll watch as a Titan eats your own brother right before your eyes. Although Willy was preparing you for some kind of unexpected attack during the festival, you never imagined something similar.

„Promise me something,“ Willy said just a couple of minutes before he stepped onto the stage and began the long-awaited performance. You could see fear like never before in his eyes. „Whatever happens, you keep on fighting and keep on living.“

„As if I had such a long life ahead of me.“

„Y/N,“ he sighed, took a step closer, and pulled you into a tight hug. His actions surprised you, but you soon wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him back. „We both know what may happen in a couple of minutes. And I don’t want us to part on bad terms.“

You shook your head, quietly burying your face into your brother’s chest. It was better not knowing the reason why you came to Liberio this time. Because after he told you...

„I hope you’ll one day understand, why we chose you to be the next carrier of the War Hammer Titan. It wasn’t out of anger or hatred, please, never think that.“

„Our parents gave me no choice, Willy. And you know it, you and Lara were there as well. And you sided with them, not with me. None of you cared about what I had to say about all of that.“

There was something you never told him. And you were contemplating, if this was the right time. If this evening really turned out to be your brother’s last, it would be better to stay quiet. Better not to tell him about the pain you felt every single time you looked at his children – your beloved nieces and nephews. You would give your life for them, but every time you saw Willy or his wife with the kids, you remembered what you were forced to give up. You remembered the baby you were supposed to have with Porco.And in those moments you hated your parent and siblings to the point, that you could...

When it all happened, there was no time to even mourn your brother’s death.

You felt sick to your stomach, as you looked around and saw all those people – crushed and bleeding, on the verge of dying or already dead. Even you were injured pretty badly when Eren Jaeger attacked Liberio in his Titan form. But since you had titan powers yourself, it wasn’t such a big deal.

Not when you had to transform almost immediately and use the Har Hammer’s powers like never before. Eren was a skilled opponent, you had to admit that. Even more, when his devilish comrades from that damned island came to help him. But you did your best until the very end. You used all the power your Titan had and fought for your family and your homeland. Even the Marleyan military tried to help you before they had to face the attack from the Devils of Paradis. Commander Magath and his men were there, to make sure you devour Eren and become the new Founding Titan.

As you fought Eren Jaeger, you felt all of Marley’s eyes on you. Horrified civilians and the whole military were counting on you to put a stop to all of this madness. Just like everybody was counting on the other Warriors and their Titans.

At one moment, you were so close. All you needed, was one last hit to finish him off and gain his powers. But that same moment was the beginning of the end. Your end. Before you knew it, everything was in ruin and the crystal you were safely sealed in, was in your enemy’s hands. All kinds of different emotions overcame you, when you heard the War Hammer’s body fall to the ground, as the Attack and Founding Titan picked up the crystal from underneath the ruins.

That’s when you saw Porco’s Titan attack for the first time. He almost succeeded... almost.

You felt tears full of pain run down your cheeks, as you simply couldn’t do anything to help him. You couldn’t even help yourself. Eren was the one, who held your fate in his hands. And he very well knew, what he wanted to do with you. You tried to strike against him one last time and hold him in place, by using the last bits of your Titan’s powers. But after that, you could only watch and wait.

For death or redemption you probably never deserved.

Before you knew it, Eren was tossing the Jaw Titan around like a toy. You heard yourself scream Porco’s name as loud as you could until your voice gave out. But that changed nothing. Eren didn’t stop. He had a mission and he was determined to complete it. Basically... your life meant nothing to him, just like his life meant nothing to you.

So after he took care of Porco and tore all of the Jaw’s limbs off, he showed your crystal right into the Titan’s mouth. Between his exceptionally powerful teeth, which could bite even through metal or other similar strong surfaces.

Your crystal included.

You weren’t sure if Porco saw you inside the crystal. If he got to find out, that it was you all along. But you could swear, that you heard somebody scream your name just seconds before unimaginable pain took over your whole body and before everything went black before your eyes for good.

What did you feel in those final moments? Besides pain, a huge wave of relief washed over you. You never thought that you would die like this. But at least it mean that your suffering was finally ending. The crown, which was placed on your head forcefully, finally fell off and out of the reach of your family.

Maybe... maybe it was better this way.

Maybe... just maybe there was never good and evil. Only many different kinds of evil wearing mismatched masks while pretending to be good.

So when your consciousness faded away for the very last time, you actually felt a little smile form on your lips, just seconds before your tears were mixed with blood.

Right there, amongst the ruins of the city you were born in, Porco Galliard ended your life, when his Jaw Titan snapped your protective crystal to tiny pieces. And all that was left of you – the girl he so sincerely loved – was devoured by Eren Jaeger.

[endereies]

FUCK IT - MATT STURNIOLO - PART 2

Spotify Playlist:

Pairing: Matt x Oc

Contains: Growing up with parents who make her feel isolated, what happens when she meets Matt. A person who introduces her to new people, new experiences and new feelings.

Requested?: no

Author's notes: This is a filler chapter before things get good!!

Word Count: 2810

Part 1

“Is this something we are meant to do?”

“Fuck it.”

Matt’s Pov:

“I don’t know, Nick. It isn’t as easy as just asking for her number so casually like that.” I slump down on the sofa and groan when I drag my hands down my face before they land in my lap.

“C'mon dude, it’s simple. You just ask” Nick shrug his shoulders as he grabs a Dr. Pepper from the fridge.

“It really isn’t, I’ve only known her like… I don’t know, three weeks? I need a reason y’know?” I sigh deeply and look up at nick with a blank expression.

“An excuse? What are you, five.” Nick rolls his eyes at me and jokes around, taking a seat beside me.

“Just say your grandma died or some shit” Chris pipes in from behind Nick and I; his comment makes us snap our head to him. He is so casual about his statement and stands with one hand in his tracksuit pocket and the other holding a red popsicle like Nick.

“CHRIS!” Nick’s voice echoes from right beside me and I quickly cover my left ear to muffle the yelling.

“Yup, I’m not doing that.” I scoff and smirk at Chris’s statement.

“Don’t tell me you have used that one Chris” The tone in Nick’s voice shows how serious he is when asking, as if Chris would actually use that.

“Yeah once, like a year ago”

Nevermind.

“You two are no help” I mumble before I pinch the bridge of my nose between my index and thumb.

“Why do you want this girl’s number, wait. Whose number do you want?” Chris starts to walk in front of Nick and I holding his popsicle amid his teeth as he adjusts his clothing on his waist.

Before I can get a word in, Nick manages to chime in.

“He wants Alyia’s, the girl we met in the music room you happened to barge in to…” He glares in the other’s direction, pausing for a moment before continuing. “He wants to keep talking with her for ‘practice’” I catch Nick making air quotes not-so-subtly.

Chris immediately gives me a smirk and raises his eyebrows at me.

“Nah don’t do that shit, I just wanna practice with her because all these new freshmen this year are awful at guitar. She can actually play”

“Then don’t listen to Chris, kid can’t even give a half ass response to that”

“I am right here, Nick” Chris retorts, shifting to the bin to place his wrapper into it, his body leans as he does, so he grips the edge of the counter to support himself.

“Whatever, look matt, if you wanna find a ‘reason’, then over-thinking it is going to get you nowhere in this situation. You need to act natural and be reasonable. Are you in any classes together?”

“Classes together? Uh no, why?” I question him with a much quieter voice than the other two.

“God, Matt, even I know this” Chris confidence practically emits from his voice. “For starters, you two share English together. Maybe if you didn’t fall asleep every other lesson, you would know. Besides it’s so you can ask her to send over the work from a lesson that you ‘missed’. Simple” He stands in front of me and crosses his arms when he done speaking, stood proud ahead of Nick and I.

“Exactly, see Chris gets it.” His hand raises above him and Chris takes that as an invitation and hits his hand against Nick’s with a grin.

-

Alyia’s Pov:

“Come on Alyia, it is only one day and it’s for your benefit…”

“Jenny, I haven’t missed my guitar practice in almost a month!” I groan with the palm of my hand rubbing my face. The grip on my other wrist increasing in strength whenever I resist.

I could practically feel the eye roll she gave to me as she lets go of my wrist and lets out an exasperated sigh in my direction. She places the top half of her hand into her flared jeans, the pocket not being able to hold any more of it. The front strands of her hair flow over her shoulders when she turns to face me with a blank expression.

“Don’t look at me like that Jenny, guitar is important to me” I rest the majority of my weight on my right leg and I let my arms merely drop to my side, the momentum making them swing momentarily.

“And your grades aren’t? This is way more important. Frankly, I’m not going to let you fail your English test again. Nor am I letting you leave the library until you finish your essay.” She crosses her arms which cause a stray section of hair get caught between her skin.

My right hand lifts to the charm on my necklace and I trace it across the metal against my neck, the sound of it dropping back down is barely audible compared to the deep sigh I disperse from my lips.

“Fine.”

­-

My pen taps rhythmically against the wooden desk which matches the timings my head nods to. Before I can process her action, my pen is slide from my grip and slammed on the desk beside me. I jump back and snap my focus to Jennifer’s stern face.

“Work.”

“I have been, I’ve wrote one page…” A timid response barely emits out after I hesitantly pick my pen back up, noticing some ink was pressed into the stretch of wood.

“Alyia. You still aren’t finished though... are you? Her posture remains stern even when she raises are arms to the table to lean upon.

“No…but I still have two weeks to finish it. I will be completely fine” I smile trying to back myself up as I speak.

Both our attentions from the conversation slip as the bell’s ring echoes around the library walls.

I draw my gaze back towards Jennifer and I quickly collect my books in front of me and attempt to gather my sheets of paper in an orderly fashion but I end up creasing one or two of them.

“You’re lucky, just make sure you get that done alright.” She doesn’t give me a change to respond before she pats my shoulder twice and walks to the main exit, holding the door open for the person wandering out behind her.

-

The locker door swings open before me, decorated with guitar strings and picks, placed below a stack of papers and books, I lean down to add to that pile, only standing back up to face my mirror I applied sloppily with hot glue. It was tilted enough to irritate me, but I was too lazy to fix it. Soon enough, a pop sound escapes the tube of mascara which was originally in a small, grey basket containing small makeup products. I slip my tongue between my lips to help me concentrate, slowly moving them back as I get closer to finish my application.

“You weren’t at practice this morning.” A gentle but stern voice emits from what I think is behind me, causing me to turn quickly, I pull the mascara wand from my eyes and twist it back into the tube. When I find nothing behind me, I turn my body back around and my locker door slams shut with the force of someone palm.

I switch my attention to the boy stood leant against the locker door alongside my own. Matt stood with a questioning expression which remained plastered on his face.

“Matt, you scared the fuck out of me.” I let out an irked sigh, re-opening my locker door only to place my mascara back inside of it.

“Why didn’t you go to the music room today?” I can’t tell if he is mad at me or upset when he asks this and his expressions aren’t helping

“Studying, that’s all.” My answer is vague but it’s enough to get him off my back for the time being.

“And since when is it your business to track my whereabouts.” Irritation starts to grow as I now look at him sternly and copy his actions and lean on my locker door.

“Since you suddenly stop practicing with me in the mornings.” He offers me a smile but I don’t reciprocate and I simply raise an eyebrow at him.

“You were meant to stop that after that talent show shit, well, I mean you’ve never played in the morning before.”

“I’ve never had someone there to practice with. At least someone that doesn’t make me want to smash my head between my cymbals over and over again.” He lets out a breathy laugh and pushes his main body weight back onto the soles of his feet.

“And no one in any of your music clubs can help you?” I raise an eyebrow at his comments

“They are all freshmen; all the good players were in the year above us. Now that they are gone, we sound awful. If I was to practice with them, I think I would lose braincells.” He sighs once he finishes speaking and wraps his arms loosely around his stomach.

“Fine.” I roll my eyes and keep them closed for a moment.

Matt’s facial expression changes quickly before he starts speaking again.

“Can I ask you for a favour…?” The tone is his voice is timid and quiet, hesitant compared to the actions he just did. He slammed my locker in front of me for fucks sakes.

“Uh? Yeah sure. What is it?” My eyebrow raises while I speak and I relax my body and push myself up from the locker door and position the majority of my weight back onto my feet.

“I missed last English lesson and I don’t have the notes, can you send them to me or something?” His words are rushed and spoken quickly like word vomit.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Don’t know why you’re so surprised by that…It was just an essay plan and answer, you really didn’t miss much.” I hold my hand in front of him expectantly, but I maintain eye contact with him.

“Oh yeah, shit sorry.” He rummages through his hoodie pocket at the front before going to his jean pocket and steadily pulling out his phone by the top of it. He holds it in his right as he lifts it to unlock it with his face id. “Here…”

His phone is rather plain, his home-screen is a small forest like environment with what I assume is his brothers and family. The apps don’t have a theme nor are they coordinated with spots of colour from Snapchat, TikTok, Instagram and other various apps. I quickly scan those apps and I find the phone app at the bottom left of his screen.

I click on it and I go to add my contact, thankfully I know my number of by heart and add it in quickly under the name Alyia🎸. I look up at matt briefly who is just curiously studying my actions. Before I hand it back to Matt, I pull my own phone out and unlock it. I ring the number I just placed into his own phone which produces a buzz from mine. A short intro to a song plays but I cut it off before Matt gets the chance to guess what it is.

“There, I’ll send the work over to you when I get home tonight. I hand back his phone from my palm.

“Thanks...” He gently smiles at me when he holds his phone back in his hand and sees the emoji I added on. “I appreciate it”

“Don’t sweat it, look, I have to go for a meeting with Miss Ackley, ill…see you around?” I shrug my arms and begin to turn when I finish my sentence, pausing between my last words.

“Of course, I’ll ‘see you around’” He mimics me with a smile before turning around like I do, headed in the other direction.

-

Matt’s Pov:

I got her number and it feels like a massive weight has been lifted off my chest. Those few weeks of practicing together has been almost a highlight of my day. And as stupid as it sounds, I don’t want to suddenly lose her company. For whatever reason.

I get dragged out of my thoughts by a light punch in my right arm.

“AYY did you do it matt” I sigh when I hear Chris’s voice from my side before, he throws his arm around my shoulder, forcing me to support his weight.

“I did yeah” I speak proudly to Chris, holding my phone up to his face to show the contact that Alyia imputed herself. Chris immediately ruffles my hair with a big grin on his face.

“So now I can ask her to practice way more often now, and I don’t have to rely on those stupid freshmen with the musical ability of a brick.” I roll my eyes and keep smiling at Chris

“Awesome. I take it I’ll be hearing a lot more of this Alyia girl then, huh” Chris gives me a wink and a slight nudge at his own remark

“Not for those reasons Chris but yeah you will be.” I end up finally pushing Chris off of my shoulders so he is back by my side again.

“Uh-huh whatever dude” Chris smirks at me but I brush it off with a playful punch to his arm.

“C’mon dude, we are gonna be late for math if we don’t hurry” I realise the time and speed up before I hear a groan behind me from Chris.

-

Alyia’s Pov:

I walk away after talking to Matt, processing the interaction between us. Why was he so worked up over me missing one session of practice. I honestly thought he wouldn’t care about it after the talent show. He just kept showing up. I guess those freshmen are really shit then if he is coming to me to play. To be honest he isn’t a bad player so it’s not a total waste of time.

I just hope I don’t regret giving him my number.

-

My home was strangely warm when I entered it after school; my bag drags itself down my arm before I let it slip off and onto the floor. I walk into the kitchen and I immediately notice some spaghetti in a pot on the stove.

With a note on the table. Of course.

I pick up the post-it and sigh deeply

‘Hey Ally, we are going out for a meeting again. Food is on the stove. Love you

-Mum’

I roll my eyes at the note and drop it back on the table and walk away without grabbing anything from the pot. I simply head to my room and slouch on my bed with my head against the wall. I pull out my phone and quickly remind myself I had to send my English work to Matt. I scramble off my bed and quickly run down the stairs to start rummaging through my bag that I left by the front door. As I pull out all my books I notice the bright blue from my English book, I yank it from the pile and start to flick through the pages of its contents, and start to return to my room. I approach the door much slower than I left it, trying not to trip. When I do successfully, spread pages quickly cover my floor as I try and get my notes that matt requested. I finally pick the correct sheet and shove the others to the side to clear some space for a picture.

I drag my phone across the covers of my bed and open my camera and turn the flash on rather than my main light. The light flashes and nearly blinds me when it reflects off the white sheet of paper. Thankfully, my movement didn’t blur it and I send it to Matt with a quick message.

Alyia🎸:

‘Hey Matt, I’ve sent over the English work from last week, lemme know if it’s the correct one.’

My phone barely sits back down on my duvet before it pings and the screen lights up with a notification. I hesitantly pick it back up and look at the notification. It was from matt and he responded right way

Matt:

‘Yeah, that’s perfect, thanks a lot’

*Alyia has changed contact name to Matt🥁*

Alyia🎸:

‘No worries, I’ll see you tomorrow in class then’

Matt🥁:

‘In the morning this time I hope’

‘Don’t wanna be disappointed again when I don’t see you’

Alyia🎸:

‘Disappointed?’

Matt🥁:

‘Your my music partner now🤷‍♂️, I’d get used to that if I were you’

Alyia🎸:

‘Well, glad I can be of service’

© ENDEREIES 2024

@st7rnioioss @yuhayeee @axolotllover225 @melliflws