#every tiny detail and keep pointing things out because i cannot shut the fuck up

[m1zisua]

cute date idea! we watch all of alien stage and i pause every individual frame and explain in length what is happening and why

[incorrect-mha-bnha]

BNHA HEADCANNONS again

Eri holds anual tea parties with everyone but banned Bakugou for “a thousand eternities” because he kept getting into bickering matches with her stuffed animals on who was the better princess.

Kaminari can, in fact, cook and bake. You can’t tell me I’m wrong because I also hc him as a huge stoner. The same with Sero. Those boys be cooking and whippin in the kitchen. Case closed.

Much like Star Lord, I believe Dabi would be one to wear headphones and carry around a cassette tape while he destroys things. People screaming and havoc being caused but it’s all muffled by his tunes. He even dances around as he works.

Mitsuki is the kind of woman to bark at men that catcall her. You can’t say I’m wrong, because I’m not. She would have no shame barking at some sleazebag that passes a rather suggestive demeaning comment her way thinking he’d get away scotch free and have a laugh over it with his sexist buddies— WELL HED BE WRONG because as soon as she hears some punk yell “Nice (insert sexist joke)!” She’d stop, turn his way slowly and start barking as shown.... “BARK BARK RUFF AWOOOO GRRRR BARK BARK BARK!” And the man would literally die on the spot. Gone. A queen. A badass. What a woman.

During that scene in the sports festival where they brought out Bakugou in chains and a muzzle like some villain rather than a teenage child. You know the one— yeah you do. Anyway. He was having an PTSD attack about the slime villain. Tell me I’m wrong. His mouth was covered and he was restrained. It was NOT very long after it either. What were they thinking? Trick question. The whole hero system is trash.

(CW: Vore) I personally think the most twisted hero turned villain scenario would be Tamaki. He eats things to gain power in his quirk.... I think you know where this is going. Imagine finding out a villain literally eating heroes and random civilians to gain their quirks? Wack

Back on my partially blind Todoroki hc. Due to his impaired vision, he tends to stand with his right side towards the opponent as to keep them in his sights and guard blind spots.

When Bakugou gets lonely, he will set off tiny explosions like fireworks that remind him of younger days when him and his friends would attend festivals and run around with sparklers.

I do like the Latin Sero hc so along those lines... you cannot tell me he wouldn’t chase anyone around the dorms with a chancla over something. It’s about as scary as an Aizawa woken up mid nap. He could chuck it a 100 yards and away and still hit you square in the head. Sero is so scary with a chancla, even Bakugou won’t attempt to fuck with him. *Starts yelling* *Sero comes out of nowhere with a sandal in his hand* “Are you yelling at Midoriya again?” *Bakugou looks up then slowly turns away and stalks off grumbling*

Izy is blasian (I don’t know if that’s the correct terminology for the mix) and will from this point on be known as Dekquan on this blog and to me. My mind is Astral in this bitch today. So many hc and thoughts. Hair care products, routines, ethnicity to learn from, SO MUCH. I also hc Mina as black, gods and her know how much of a struggle that boy will go through to take care of his hair.

Listen... I love the Bakusquad.... but they really aren’t exactly feral. Dekquansquad is immensely chaotic in terms of actions. They almost got charged with multiple offenses and Todoroki tried to square up with the head police chief. Not to mention Iida quite literally went to mu1der Stain with the help of Dekquan and Todd. After that they practically said “And what about it!?” THEN half the Dekquansquad went out to rescues Bak, and didn’t give a single fuck about the consequences. Bottom line? Dekquan knows every heroes weakness and has yet to snap completely, Iida has attempted murder under his belt, Todd has the pure teenage rebellious spite mixed with “Neutral chaotic come at me Bro!” Energy fueling him, Ochac is there for the money. Whats bakusquad got? Some Latin scotch tape, a badass breakdancer, pika pika let me charge your phone mister suave, “oh that doesn’t sound very heroic” sunshine and daisies man, and ‘I go to bed for 8’ rabies n company. Don’t even try.

Bak’s parents are fashion designers. Why does this detail matter? Take a look at his hero costume. The color pallet doesn’t clash, the asccesories make sense. (In a sense). It’s the most well put together hero costume out of Class 1A. He had to have picked up tricks and rules to follow from his parents work, you cannot tell me otherwise.

Mina would sing WAP at Uraraka’s wedding..... change my mind.

(Not a ship hc) Will I ever shut up about Kirishima, Bak and Mina being my emotional support Wonder Trio (Im going to need to think of a different damn name) even if I don’t post about it? No. Mina forms a close bond with them as the years progress. Spending more time, opening up with them, nurturing with affection. It goes both ways as well. The boys care about her immensely, becoming protective and promising to be there when she needs it. Inside jokes, training and teasing- they have it all. Their dynamic is *chefs kiss* and I promise to post about it in the future.

Denk has to have brain damage, I’m pretty damn sure. If you’re using electricity to the point of being incapacitated and numerous amount of times then there has to be some adverse effects at play.

[lizzielikeborden]

Just A Stranger

Request: general #17 for diego?

Character: Diego Hargreeves

Prompts: General- #17 “Are you jealous?”

To be completely fair he was unaware of the situation ahead of time. Your whereabouts were completely unknown, if you were dead in a ditch you were gone before he woke up so what you were wearing was also mystery, and unlike usual you did not leave him a little list of things you were going to do. Usually this would be “- work, - grocery store - pharmacy - picking up dinner”. Not such a minor detail as “I’ll be home about 30 minutes later than usual”. Little ref whistles and red flags popped through his head the moment he lifted the note to flip it over to see if maybe you had written more. But, there was nothing, it was completely blank. Diego stared at the note, and kept reading it over trying to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. After doing so he jumped up from where he sat, hitting his knee against the table due to not pulling the chair back enough to get out of the seat properly. 

My god where did I hang the clock. He thought to himself as he ran around much too anxious to find anything, including something you made him put up that he dropped on himself multiple times. Once he had finally made a full circle, seeing that the clock was directly above the front door. 

Okay wait. She gets off work at 3:30 PM and it’s 4:30PM. He counted on his fingers a little and refocused multiple times just to make sure his math was correct. The second the realized that he was right he dead sprinted out the door. 

She has to be in some sort of trouble. His heart raced faster than he ever thought it could. Once he got in the car he did not even think to put on a seatbelt or even completely shut the door. Lead foot Diego took off down the street, went 80mph in a school zone, and almost hit multiple people. In his mind you were already dead, stuck in the trunk of car, getting tortured, or getting harassed. About five minutes into driving he realized he had no idea where you even were. He knew not work, because you did not like to stay after due to horror stories Diego had told you about things that have happened in seemingly empty parking lots. So, he checked the grocery store parking lot and did not see your car. He went past the pharmacy because no cars were anywhere to be found in that tiny little lot. As he went past, he saw what looked to be your car at a nearby gas station. 

Mother fucking christ this light could not be any longer. Diego smacked the top of the steering wall with both hands as hard as he could. The light seemed to be red for ages. It was so long that he could tell you were not in your car, nor at the pump next to the gas tank. The light turned green and luckily he was in the front or a fun game of bumper cars and trade insurances would have happened. His tires squealed as he made an incredibly sharp turn into the parking lot.

That’s her car. Where the hell is she? He read your license plate and looked around the pump, you were no where to be seen. Diego parked his car and grabbed knives from the middle consul. He hid them from direct public view and stepped inside. Detective police officer vigilante Diego was on the loose now. He was looking everyone up and down. A few shady characters were present, but none were walking toward your car or a car big enough or in good enough shape to have a human hidden inside. 

Diego walked up the counter and stood for a moment, gathered his words to make sure he wouldn’t stutter, and then spoke “Hey man, you seen a (description of you) looking woman inside?”

“Yeah, she came in to pay for gas and then this other dude came in. He was having issues with is gas so she went out to go help him.” The man behind the counter pointed at the gas tank next to yours where the car once was. “She left with him.”

Diego’s blood boiled, not just out of anger, but with hints of anxiety. Why the hell would she get in a car with a strange man? They must know each other. No wonder I got such a short note. He stormed out the gas station and slammed the door. The bell that hung over top hit the glass and broke a small section. She’ll come back for her car. And I will be here when she does. He sat parked and tapped his foot and left hand vigorously. 

15 minutes later

Diego’s anger was no where near settled. In fact the longer time went on the angrier he was becoming. His mind was running in circles around the same terrible thoughts. The cashier did not give a description of the vehicle but the moment the little blue sports car pulled in Diego’s instincts picked up. His suspicions were confirmed when you stepped out of the car and waved at the man who did not step out. 

Oh fuck no. Diego got out of his car and stepped directly in front of the little sports car. It tried to maneuver around him but he had other plans, taking out a knife he ran and rolled across the ground. The blade cut straight through the tire like butter. The car spun and came to a halt.

“Diego?!” You ran over to the man now on his feet, you put a hand on his shoulder and he jumped a bit. Harshly he turned toward you. 

“Y/N, what a pleasant surprise! I would never expect to see you here at the most shady ass gas station in a car with another man after leaving a vague mother fucking note.” 

Your eyes came out of your head, you did not expect this, or any of that day to happen. No words were forming as a very very angry Diego stood in front of you. So, you just blurted out the first thing that came to mind, 

“Are you jealous?” You could see in Diego’s eyes that out of every single sentence, phrase, or word you could’ve said those were the wrong ones.

“Jealous? Should I be?” He took a step back instead of anger he seemed more upset. 

“No of course not. He’s a total stranger.” Diego’s mouth hung open, his eyes popped out of his skull, eyebrows furrowed. and his head was tilted. 

“YOU GOT INTO A VEHICLE WITH A COMPLETE STRANGER? AND THEN LEFT WITH THE STRANGER?” He yelled in frustrating and swung his arms around. 

“Excuse me bu-” The so called stranger you were with stepped out of his car but did not get a full sentence out before being shut down by Diego,

“You have two choices, fuck off, or more than just that tire will be slashed.” Diego did not even have to turn around to intimidate him before he ran back to his car and called someone to come get him. “Now back to you. What in the hell were you thinking?” His tone did not change but his demeanor did, he was much quieter and a bit calmer. 

“Well. I have been running late all day. I actually did not have a plan, so I assumed 30 minutes late was already how far behind I was. I just assumed my day would be about 30 minutes behind. Once I got about here I realized how low my gas was so I decided to get some, and that guy was having horrible trouble. So I stayed and helped him pump his gas but it wouldn’t work, I offered to help him again and we went to the gas station up the street.” You explained.

“You cannot be helping grown adult men or getting in cars with them. Hell any strangers for that matter. I know you think you are oh so capable but in real situations people tend to become a whole lot less capable.” He grabbed your hand and squeezed it, still keeping some distance between the two of you. You couldn’t really argue with him. You had never been in any situation like that so you couldn’t prove him wrong. Statistically he was correct. You gently pulled for him to come closer. He did so. 

“Thank you for being protective and cautious. You just care, more than normal, but you care. I shouldn’t have done that. But Mr. Vigilante you should not have slashed that poor mans tire.”

“You need to be happy I didn’t slash his thro-.”

“No no, we do not need to work you back up.” You put a hand on his cheek and made him look at you, you shook your head at him.

“What am I gonna do with you?” He smiled and leaned down, he matched your action and placed a hand across your cheek and kissed you softly. 

You gave it a moment and pulled back, “I could ask you the same thing.”

You took your keys from you pocket and started to walk back to your car.

“I will be following closely behind you the entire way home. Do not test me.” Diego commented as he wandered back to his car.

You smiled and took off faster than him down the street. You were gonna be the death of him... 

[longitud-de-onda]

piece of your heart, pt. 2

pairing; javier peña x female reader summary; the morning after finding out what javier says, you go into work. rating; t warnings; talk of being drunk and bad decisions regarding sexual relations with others, brief mention of eating disorders and alcoholism word count; 2.4k

part one

You enter the embassy and head straight to your desk. You know there’s a conversation waiting to happen, but you don’t want to do it this early. One short night of sleep hasn’t been enough to process everything; you could barely work through the words Javier had said, let alone how he had asked you to dance.

How he had groped you on the dance floor. 

How you had liked it.

Javier’s office is along the way to your desk and you make a point to look straight ahead, hoping he won’t notice you.

“Y/N,” calls a voice, absent of all energy. You turn, caught.

You backtrack your steps and stop at the door to Javier’s office. His sunglasses are on and his head is propped up by his arm on the desk.

“Hey, Javi,” you say. You lean against the doorframe, keeping part of your body hidden.

The memory of him puking all over the sidewalk the night before is enough of an explanation for his appearance today. He must be incredibly hungover. You know you would be. It’d been a long time since you’d been that drunk.

“I wanted to say thank you,” he says. “For last night.”

“It’s no big deal, you would have done the same,” you say. That much you know to be true. Javier might not give a shit about anyone’s emotions, but he sure as hell cares about the welfare of everyone he knew. He would probably even risk his pride to show up sheepishly at the hospital for Stechner if things got bad enough.

“You’ve been distant lately,” he says. He pulls off his sunglasses and winced at the light before continuing. “I honestly wouldn’t have expected you to help.”

Ouch.

You had been avoiding him, that was true. But only because it had gotten to the point where being with him hurt. Especially when he would throw every secretary in the embassy the wicked grin that would send them home thinking about him. You had been distant because you cared too much. Not because you had stopped caring.

You lower your voice and look down at your feet, almost too embarrassed now to say anything. “I still care about you, Javi. You were—it was bad. You needed help.”

Your heart is pounding. You need to bring up what he had said. Let him know you knew. He hadn’t brought it up yet and that worries you. 

Maybe he doesn’t want you to know what he said. 

“Well, regardless, I don’t remember anything between my second shot of tequila and vomiting outside, but your kindness saved me. I felt like shit... still do.”

He doesn’t remember? Anything?

“I’m sorry you had to deal with me,” he continues, speaking slowly. It looks like every word made his head hurt a bit more. “I know I’m talkative when drunk, say things I don’t mean. I hope I didn’t say anything embarrassing.”

“I, um.” Shit. He didn’t just not remember. He didn’t mean a word. You blinked back some tears and stared straight at the teal wall behind him. “No idea what you said. It was all Spanish. All night long.”

“Oh.” Javier looks back down at his desk.

This hurts more than it should. You had been so happy last night, knowing that he had felt the same way about you. You let yourself believe, if only for a few moments, that you had a chance.

You can’t keep talking to him. Not today.

“See you around, Peña,” you say, turning to leave.

You get about fifteen steps away when he calls you back again.

“Wait, Y/N!”

You go back to the door.

“Did I do something wrong?” he asks.

“Javi, I—no,” you exhale. This is too much. You should have known the second you read those words in the dictionary that it was all too good to be true. And Javier isn’t to blame, you are. You knew he was drunk. He didn’t have any control of his mouth, and you still believed it.

Your mind wanders back to his hands. Those hands that moved around your back, that grabbed your ass, that palmed your breast. Did he mean those too? Or was that really just him reverting to who he was when drunk. The Javier you knew would set his eyes on some young thing and take her home. Were you supposed to be that girl?

“So why are you acting so distant all of a sudden?” Javier asks. Something darker crosses over his eyes. “Did I—did I do something last night?”

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, clearing the tears. You can feel the ghost of his hand on your chest and you want to tell him.

“Like you said,” you say instead, “you didn’t mean anything.”

It pains you to say it. And Javier sees right through you.

“Did I hurt you?” he breathes. His eyes are wide and you know his mind was racing with all sorts of possibilities.

You don’t want to think about the fact that he’s worried for a good reason. Worried because he knows that when he doesn’t have control, there’s a real possibility he would hurt someone. And you know he wouldn’t. Not with you. Not intentionally.

“No.” You shake your head. “Nothing like that. You—Javi, it was stupid and not really important. And it’s probably better to have this conversation when you’re not hungover.”

You turn to leave again. This conversation has taken more of a toll on you than should be allowed before work. You don’t know how you’re going to focus. Your mind is swimming and all you can see is the blurry blue of Javier’s office’s walls.

“Y/N, please tell me,” he says, his voice wavering.

You know he wouldn’t be pleading with you if he didn’t care. If he didn’t mean things, at least he wants to ensure he hadn’t hurt you. You can tell he is scared. Scared he had done something.

You imagine being him, no memory of the night before, the only one who seemingly is able to explain withdrawing on him.

“Please don’t disappear on me,” he says.

You feel the tug at your heart and you turn back, stepping inside his office this time and closing the door.

What can you say? How can you explain everything he did? Everything you felt?

“We, um, you—you asked me to dance,” you say.

Javier looks surprised. “So?”

“And we did,” you say. “And you were a bit, I don’t know? You?”

You regret those words as soon as you see the look on his face. You hadn’t seen him looking so scared, so guilty, in all the years you’d known him.

He reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair, exhaling.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

It’s so much worse than you could have imagined because Javier’s thinking about how he is when he dances when drunk. And you’ve seen it before.

You’ve watched from the sidelines, tears hot in the corners of your eyes as you sipped a drink. He’d done it many times before, pulling some girl into his arms as he would grind up against her and her tiny frame. He’d have her half undressed in his arms as he practically had sex with her on the dance floor, only to invite her home to finish it off.

He did it for the same reason you all had a vice. Steve had his violent outbursts. You knew another guy in the DEA who would never admit it, but smoked marijuana. There was a CIA agent who spent his weekends out in the jungle, shooting at almost any living thing. You spent all your spare money on stupid trinkets and makeup and little things you’d never use during long trips to malls and markets. Some people ate their feelings. Some people didn’t eat at all. Some people drank. Many more smoked. A lot. It’s all so you can forget the things you’re forced to do.

Down here in Colombia, there are no good guys. That much you learned in the first few weeks. You have to either find a way to forgive yourself or numb yourself enough so you don’t feel the guilt.

Javier’s way of doing that just has the side effect of making you feel like your heart is ripped in half every night.

And he’s sitting at his desk, looking horrified as his mind races with the thoughts of what you could have meant. You wish you could snatch the words out of the air just so he doesn’t look as conflicted as he does now.

“No, no, no,” you backtrack. “That, the dancing, it was fine. It was...good. You were just—do you really not remember any of it?”

You want him to remember what he said. Even if he didn’t mean it. It would make this easier. You wouldn’t be stuck reliving his hips rolling up against yours in the warm night, his deep voice growling words you didn’t know into your ear.

“No, Y/N,” he says. “It’s all blurry.”

You wish it was all blurry for you. The details of the night are surprisingly sharp for having happened while tipsy. You remember the hot skin on his neck, beads of sweat dripping as you swayed amongst the crowd. The warm glow of the lights casting soft shadows across his face. His hands on your hips, pulling you in again and again.

The words passing through his lips: ‘te quiero.’

“You... you.” You’re looking up at Javier and your vision is faded. Hot tear trails line your cheeks as you realize how much this conversation has ruined you.

How do you tell someone that they said they loved you? How do you tell someone that they’re breaking your heart?

In a cruel way, it almost makes sense. Of course, you wouldn’t get a happy ending from this. You don’t deserve one. None of you do. You all do horrible things. They might be permissible to the government, but anyone with morals knows you walk along the fine line that separates the law enforcers from the breakers. It’s a life that doesn’t get to end smiling alongside a significant other.

“Fuck, Y/N, please, you’re scaring me,” Javier says, standing up from his desk. “What did I do?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? What did he do? What didn’t he do? 

What didn’t he feel?

You know you’re about to let the tears break over. Break down into sobs in front of Javier. And you know it’s not because of him. You’re at your limit. There’s a point at which someone cannot take more suppression of their own feelings. And you have just hit it.

There are two options in which you boil over, and number one, curling into a sobbing mess, isn’t the most dignified one. Number two is not much better but there’s nothing else.

You take a deep breath.

“Javi, I’ve liked you for a long damn time, and last night, you were—you were dancing and talking and you said some things, said that you liked me,” you admit. It is out now. You look down to avoid seeing Javier’s immediate reaction. You don’t want to see rejection so soon. “And I was—stupidly—happy. And I know obviously I shouldn’t, because that’s rule number one here, and I know you didn’t mean it, so forgive me if I can’t really handle this right now, I don’t want you to fuck with my emotions any more so I’d really like to forget it all.”

In the end, choosing option two isn’t keeping you from option one, as it takes every bit of energy left to remain standing as your face heats with the tears and you sniffle through your last sentence.

You glance up at Javier, finally getting a look at his reaction. His face is almost blank, except his lower lip, tucked between his teeth, and his brows which are ever so slightly furrowed. He doesn’t say a word.

You know what this means. You wipe your eyes with the sleeves of your shirt. It must look terrible, but you’re past the point of caring.

“I’m gonna leave,” you say, trying to keep your voice stable. “Maybe we shouldn’t see each other for a while. I need to forget you.”

Your heart feels like it’s being crushed and you know it’s your own fault. You’ve really dug yourself into a hole over the years.

“Wait!” Javier runs around his desk, grabbing your arm to stop you from opening the door. He swings you around to face him.

You’re breathing heavily, and are aware of the deep rise and fall of your chest, inches from where Javier stands. You look into his eyes and there’s a softness that you know Javier doesn’t usually hold.

“I don’t remember what I said,” he starts, “But if I said that? I meant it.”

Fuck. Okay.

“And I don’t remember what happened last night, but I hope I didn’t do anything to push you away,” he says.

Trust Javier to put your emotions on a plane ride through a lighting storm. You want to kiss him, hug him, something. But you’re stuck in the shock of it all.

“You weren’t supposed to ever know,” he says. “It’s not supposed to happen. You know that. I thought if you knew, I’d lose you. I wouldn’t ever get to see you in the capacity I’ve been lucky enough to get to.”

He’s right. None of this is allowed. But despite that, it’s happening.

You focus on his hand, holding your arm. You want to pull him in. But you can’t. Not with all the windows in this office. The whole embassy can’t know. And they don’t deserve to.

“You didn’t push me away,” you say, “I wouldn’t ever want to lose you either.”

“You said I was only speaking Spanish?” he asks.

“Um, yeah,” you smile, breaking eye contact to stare at the ground. “I remembered a few things. Looked them up when I got home.”

“What did I say?”

“Well, I only got a few of the many sentences,” you say. “I thought you were saying something suggestive the whole time. You were grinding up against me.”

You glanced up at Javier, whose cheeks were turning a bit red. You were lucky the room was soundproof. You both knew you couldn’t move any closer. This was your alternative.

“You kept talking into my ear, and your hands were running down my back. You said you wanted to be alone with me. That you wanted to kiss me.”

You stared into Javier, saw the shadow of arousal in his eyes, and grinned.

“Then when I thought it couldn’t get any better, you pulled me in close and said ‘Te quiero.’”

taglist; @pascalisthepunkest @turquiosenights @el-lizzie @spookyold-saintjm​ @fleurdemiel145 @murdermewithbooks @winters-buck 

[missinghan]

time lapse ⤖ seo changbin

❖ genre : idiots to lovers! au; long-distance relationship! au; fluff; a teeny tiny bit of angst

❖ word count : 14,9k.

❖ warning : explicit language, suggestive remarks & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : you used to see Changbin as a friend until you realized that you both don’t look at each other the way best friends are supposed to. 

one.

Apparently, people like you and Changbin don’t look forward to spring breaks, ever, because you simply cannot see the point in getting pumped for the very few days of sleeping in only to dread every last moment of it. Hence, he keeps FaceTiming you every day and night with such ridiculous reasons it actually boosts your ego into thinking that he misses you. 

Oh, boy were you wrong.

But this time around, he seems so flustered and burnt up all of a sudden it makes a smirk creep its way up to your lips. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you’re more than satisfied like a sadistic predator. You can really use some tea right now, it’s been a little boring without any dramas other than Hyunjin being dramatic over how his hair does not look good in any way, shape or form. That alone is enough for you to throw him off a cliff because since when does Hwang Hyunjin not look good?

Changbin asks. “Have you eaten?”

“Yes, I have. You’ve been asking the same question for five minutes straight.” You roll your eyes at him in the bitchiest way possible. 

He questions subconsciously, only to have you narrow your eyes at him. “You have work tomorrow, right?”

“Bin, you have my schedule. Of course, I have work tomorrow.” You utter in disbelief. 

“Can’t I just make up excuses to call my favorite girl?”

You make a gagging noise. “Cut the bullshit. Spill or I’m gonna whip out the big gun.” 

“And what is that?” He drawls the question in boredom. 

You grin at him coyly. “I’m gonna tell Chan to poison you with cilantro.” If Changbin had to choose between eating cilantro and jumping into a tank full of sharks, he’d definitely, without a second thought, sleep with those horrifying fishes with ridiculously deadly teeth. He hates cilantro with an ignited passion, and he’s entitled to that decision for the rest of his life. He’s sworn that he would never eat cilantro as long as he lives. 

“Fine,” Changbin huffs in defeat as he holds his phone up while lying on his bed. “I need your help.”

You twirl the end of your hair dreamily and acknowledge his request. “I like the sound of that, go on.” 

He shoots you a dirty look, proceeding to continue. “How do I get a girl to notice my feelings for her?” 

His words strike through your eardrums like a lightning bolt. You don’t know whether you should be crying or laughing because 1) Changbin was never the kind of guy to be interested in having a girlfriend, he has always kept his hands to himself since forever although girls were more than ready to throw themselves at him anytime, anywhere; 2) How come he has never talked to you about this? You feel utterly betrayed because the key to having a long-distance relationship is to not hide anything from each other. And he’s doing the exact opposite of that; 3) You don’t feel as happy for him as you’re supposed to and now you feel like a horrible friend. 

“Oh-my-god.” You gasp scandalously. “I’ve been waiting for this day to come my entire life! And it’s happening right in front of my eyes! It’s actually happening! Wait… did you already pop your cherries or…” When Changbin looks like he’s about to put your head on a stick, you quickly realize that you should have just focused on the topic. 

He fakes a smile. “And what day is that?” 

“The day that my best friend asks for relationship advice from me! To finally embrace the most amazing thing to happen in life, called ‘love’! Duh.” You prop your head onto your hand, blowing a few strands of hair out of your face. “So, who is she?” 

“I don’t know if you can really help me Y/N but she’s like 5,000 miles away from me right now—“

“What did you just say?” You cut him off unintentionally. “Is she an exchange student?”

“Yeah? You can say so..” He trails off and scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “We met on Tinder and got to see each other later at a uni conference, and she’s really—“

You cut him off again, this time, it’s intentional. “Run, just run away.”

“Why?” He looks at you weirdly. “You’re not making any sense right now.”

You chuckle creepily, making him shudder. He’s never seen you laughing in such a dark tone it makes him wonder if you’ve been possessed or not. “Running away is actually a smart move, my friend. Just get yourself out of the war before there’s blood on those precious fingers of yours. Exchange students get all the attention. Guys or girls, doesn’t matter. Students are gonna be attracted to them like a bunch of moths to a tiny spark of flame.”

“But, but—“

You stop him before he can even say something stupid. “No but. And a long-distance relationship too? Not ideal. You can’t just slide into her DMs and ask her to be with you when you’ve only met twice. Unless her feelings aren’t necessarily not mutual. But yeah, I doubt that.” 

“Whatever, I might as well just gonna fly home and watch some shitty movies with you instead.” Changbin purses his lips in boredom and runs a hand through his hair. “Do you wanna watch that zombie movie still? Zombieland right?” 

You nod eagerly because gosh, after months and months, he still remembers. It’s one of those little moments which perfectly showcases how much Changbin cares about you. Because unlike some people, he actually pays attention to what you’re saying. And you would be lying if you said that those little actions of his never made your heart tingle. They do, and it sucks. 

“Damn right, I’m pumped for the sequel, never really got the chance to watch it since college has been nothing but a bitch to me.” 

“You’re so fucking spoiled, Beastie.” He snickers, biting back a smile. But deep down, you can clearly see right through his facade and feel the slight disappointment in his brown eyes. Exchange student or not, if it’s what makes him happy, then you fully support his decision. And if that girl ever tries to pull a dirty move on him? You’ll hunt her down and sell her off to some random mafia organization. 

You laugh wholeheartedly, trying to lighten up the mood. “Listen, if you kept scrolling through Tinder, having a girlfriend wouldn’t be a problem. Because I’m pretty sure there’s not gonna be a single person who’d not swipe right.” 

Changbin cocks a brow. “Why not?”

“Because you’re hot as shit!”

He groans loudly at your bold statement, cheeks tinted pink in embarrassment. “Shut up, mom.” 

You smile cheekily at him. “Love you too, honey boo.”

two.

As much as you clown Changbin for using Tinder since the day he asked you for dating advice, you can’t help but think that you’re a little bit lonely without his company. Funny enough, you also found yourself scrolling through the infamous app for hours and hours until there’s a match. 

The only thing that’s funnier than Changbin asking dating advice from a total fetus than you is you talking big games to him when you haven’t even got laid, not even once. So obviously, you’re so close to pissing your pants as you dread the drive to your date, tremendously. 

“Since when did you even start using dating apps?” Yeji scrunches her nose in disapproval as she starts the engine. You both just finished watching ‘Dolittle’ since Robert Downey Jr. is an icon and you’re not planning on missing out on any of his movies. But that’s not the point because the point is, your roommate knows your impulsive ass too well. Meaning, she’s not letting your day end without giving you something to feel better about it. More straight forward-ly, she’s trying to lighten up your mood before your date can piss you off. 

You singsong, trying to wiggle yourself out of the situation. “Since Seo Changbin asked me about a girl.” You know Yeji just as well as how she knows you, so you’re taking advantage of her carelessness to bring up a whole new topic before she can lure you into ‘the talk’. 

Yeah, ‘the talk’, sounds scary enough if you’re thinking about that one awkward, intimate conversation with parents about how babies are made. You think it’s utterly useless since society is basically corrupted and kids these days are all over the place, watching porns left and right with their parents’ IDs. So having ‘the talk’ with Yeji is definitely not gonna be full of questionable statements in replacement for making love. 

As far as you know, she only forces someone into ‘the talk’ with her when they suddenly have some kind of romantic interest in another human being. Upon hearing that, she’s gonna be out and about, playing the role of God and telling people all of the do-s and don’t-s along with a detailed description of how she’s gonna drag that person to the very bottom of hell if they end up breaking their heart. You’re sure as hell that you’re not ready to talk about it with her. In other words, you’re not ready for her to torment you about some boy that you haven’t even met. 

“Seo Changbin, dating someone?” Yeji fakes a gasp. “Wow, tell me all about it.” 

You roll your eyes at her. “So you knew?” 

You don’t know why you’re even surprised anymore since Changbin tells Hyunjin everything who’d spill everything to Ryujin for their midnight gossip session who’d complain about it to Yeji later on. The cycle is fully completed before you even know it and that does not make you feel any less of a dumbass. 

“Duh,” She purses her lips before making a turn at the second intersection. “Listen, just enjoy your date, I’m not gonna tease you about it until you tell me how much of an asshole that guy is.” 

You sigh in relief, drowning into your seat like a jellyfish. “Thank God.”

“But,” Your roommate drawls the word for a painfully long time. “Can we just talk about how it’s such a shame? You and Changbin would make an extremely adorable couple, right? I kid you not.”

You choke on your own saliva, coughing furiously as your hand desperately tries to roll down the window for some fresh air, mainly for the heat that’s slowly creeping up on the apples of your cheeks. “Who would ship me and my best friend together? That sounds like every drama to ever exist. Ew.” Hissing at her like a snake, you repeatedly fan your face with the hope to rid off the annoying coral tint. 

Yeji narrows her eyes at you and quickly diverts her attention back on the road because no one is getting pulled over on a gorgeous Saturday night, at least not her. She still has to finish the last episodes of the drama she’s been fangirling over. “So you’re telling me that you’re not jealous when Changbin told you about other girls? You’re totally, absolutely, entirely okay with him hanging out with some random chick in Italy?” 

It makes your blood boil even more when she mentions the fact that yes, Changbin is having fun with someone who’s probably ten thousand times hotter than you in Europe, but you’re more pissed off at the fact that she’s always right. Of course, you’re fucking jealous, why wouldn’t you? You can’t even fathom the sheer fury that’s running through your veins. Your heart is pumping pure exasperation into your brain. Even your liver can’t filter such anger. You hate the idea of Changbin wrapping his arms around someone other than you so much you’d rather choke yourself to death than even glance at such sight. 

But, for the sake of a completely normal conversation, your mouth says otherwise. “Why not? He’s not my property, I don’t get to decide who he falls in love with. Moreover, he deserves someone he truly adores. That’s not my business for all I know.” 

“Liar,” Yeji smirks. “Enjoy your date all you want, Y/N. Try not to think about Changbin too much or your date’s gonna flip.”

Again, you can’t stress enough how annoying Hwang Yeji is because somehow, in which you still don’t know how, she can read your mind in a snap of a finger. So it’s no surprise for her to know that you’ve actually thought about dating your own best friend before. It sounds so cliché you might bury yourself alive if you accidentally slip one day and confess your stupid feelings for him. As if on cue, your sixth sense is currently tingling, trying to tell you that you will definitely make a fool of yourself as you try to elaborate on how you feel about Changbin. 

“What did I do to deserve you?” You sneer sarcastically at her as she parks her white Rover right in front of the restaurant. 

The moment you step out of her car, Yeji tosses you a look. “Don’t you dare trip on me Lee freaking Y/N, don’t even try it.”

“I’ll have Minho pick me up, now skittle outta here.” You grimace before shutting the door close. Turning on your heels, you inhale sharply and push the glass door open to enter what seems like literal hell on Earth for the next four hours or so. 

three.

Being on an actual date reminds you of why you never even use dating apps in the first place. 

The only part that prevents you from running away is that Yeji has his dating profile. She knows his number, his occupation, his face, and all that jazz because meeting strangers for the very first time and already eating out with them gives you every right to be paranoid. But you’re not gonna tell him that because you still respect him just fine. And in case he’s acting all sketch, you’re gonna make sure that he’s not going home in one piece. 

Okay, you can’t just blame Jaemin because he’s not an asshole. He really isn’t. He’s a nice guy in general: respectful, confident, and outgoing with a good sense of humor. Respectful? Checked. Confident? Checked. Good sense of humor? Checked. Outgoing? That’s the dealbreaker right there. You don’t hate him for it, it’s just he’s too outgoing for an introverted potato like you. 

Both Jaemin and Changbin have very strong personalities like every Leo should. You’re most definitely not an astrology nerd but you’re educated enough to know that Leos are dramatic, warm-hearted, passionate and impulsive. 

In which, Changbin makes you laugh your ass off until you can’t even breathe whenever he’s whining about you waking him up at 9 a.m. But you gave Jaemin nothing but a scrunch of your nose when he yelped out loud as his mashed potato was too hot. And you kindly offered to finish it for him after knowing that he can’t have dairy products. Changbin’s managed to get you out of the house every weekend even when it’s a simple trip to the mall and whereas, Jaemin makes you feel more of a voiceless being when he continuously brings up one topic after another at the literal speed of light. You almost miss how you can just throw out the most random sentence without being afraid of someone judging you. 

Clearly, Jaemin isn’t the one to blame here. 

Admittedly, it’s just a ‘you’ problem. 

And even more admittedly, it’s just because Na Jaemin is being himself, and will always be himself. He’s never gonna be, and will never be Seo Changbin. 

Seriously, what’s up with Changbin taking over your mind today?

“Do you perhaps wanna watch a movie after dinner— you’re not listening to me, aren’t you?” Jaemin stops mid-sentence when he catches your dreamy expression, for the fifth time that night. 

You quickly regain your composure and sigh in defeat. “Fine, you got me. Again.” Burying your face into your palms, you’re practically choking on your own frustration because you don’t wanna lash out on him just because he’s not your type. “Ugh, I’m sorry, okay? I’ve never been on a date with a stranger before. Who’d have thought talking on texts was so much easier?” 

Jaemin props his head on his hand and makes eye contact with you. He breaks it after a good five seconds to catch you off guard, slowly processing his current thoughts like a lawyer in court. “Let me guess, you’re in a long-distance relationship with someone but since they’ve been away for quite some time, you got bored. So that leads to you, drum rolls, hopping on Tinder to find a one night stand.” He closes in proudly, a triumphant smirk painted on his slightly chapped lips. 

For the first time after hours of dreading Minho to come and pick you up as soon as possible, you can finally let go and have a good laugh. It’s like the pressure of being on a date is gladly lifted off your shoulders and you feel like you’re just catching up with an old friend. Which is weird because Changbin— Would it kill to stop thinking about Changbin for once in your life you dumbhead?

“And how did you know that?” You smile at Jaemin, deciding to focus on him for the rest of the night so that he doesn’t think you’re disrespecting him. A date is still a date. Even when the feelings aren’t mutual, the amount of respect should be.

He slowly takes a sip of his water and chews on his steak after. “Not to be creepy but when you went to use the restroom, a notification showed up and I saw your lock screen. He looks like one of those hot SoundCloud rappers who manages to stay anonymous under their stage name even when they’re mad famous. You know, cool people making dope music without being too problematic like ‘real’ celebrities.” Jaemin says it with such admiration you’re nearly more than ready to rant about how talented of a music prodigy your best friend is. But for the sake of him being your best friend, you’re not gonna do that. Yet. 

“We’re not dating, just childhood best friends.” 

He wiggles his eyebrows at you with mischief laced in his brown eyes. “You have a thing for him then. Aha! I knew it! All best friends are obligated to be together, it’s an unwritten norm of the universe.” Wow, just when you thought that no one would know about your feelings for Changbin other than your annoying, chaotic friend group. 

“In my defense, he was the one who set that photo as my lock screen.” You grunt under your breath but don’t even try to hide it. “I shouldn’t have swiped right.”

“Be grateful that you did.” Jaemin inhales the last bits of his dish with satisfaction, dabbing the sauce on his lips away with a napkin. “Because not only am I paying for the meal, I’d love to meet up again to hear you ramble about the boy on your phone. As friends. Also because you totally saved my lactose intolerant ass back there.” He declares loud and clear, smiling from ear to ear. 

You roll your eyes at him in slight annoyance. “Fine, but I’m paying for the movie tickets.”

Jaemin extends his fist. “Frozen 2? I know a place that’s having it tonight.”

“You got it, broski.” You chuckle and bump your fist with his while your heart is yelling at you to get the fuck out of this restaurant because you’re about to suffocate yourself with the amount of painstakingly awkward silence that this place possesses. 

Before you even know it, you’re walking out of the Hilton Hotel with an empty bucket of popcorn in your arms as Jaemin hogs two cups of Coke which are left with nothing but ice cubes right beside you. It’s like the whole being too cautious thing that’s been driving you insane has disintegrated into literal dust. Watching a movie with Jaemin feels like you’re babysitting your non-existent little brother while your parents are out of town and Minho is bar-hopping with the guys. Except for the fact that he gave you his hoodie because the cinema’s ACs are ridiculously cold as always. But it’s really nice, actually, because although the date didn’t turn out how you expected it to be, you did make a new friend. 

That rarely happens so you’re definitely giving yourself a pat on the shoulder. 

“The plot was kinda messy, don’t you think?” You ask him after tossing the bucket into a nearby trash can. 

Jaemin nods in acknowledgment and swings an arm around your shoulder. “It was all over the place, I’m with you all the way. And Elsa in that purple dress too? Yikes.”

You laugh with him, continuing the conversation with much less ‘watch what you’re saying’ and more ‘actually enjoy the date for the sake of it’ until you both reach the parking lot. “Drive safe and text me when you’re home, okay?” You remind him like the bossy person that you are as you pull out your phone from your purse. 

“You’re not my mom.” Jaemin snickers and his fingers hover above the tips of his keys inside his pocket. “Wait, your brother’s picking you up right?”

[9:35 p.m.]

y/n | hey, pick me up already. 

meanhoe | sorry sis, I’m a bit occupied over here. 

meanhoe | just call a ride home or smth.

[9:36 p.m.]

y/n | LEE MINHO ARE YOU KIDDING ME?

y/n | do you have the slightest idea about how many serial killers are lurking the streets, waiting for girls like me to fall right into their traps?

meanhoe | paranoid.

[9:37 p.m.]

meanhoe | let me tell you about how Han Jisung is taking a nap on my lap rn.

meanhoe | in graphic details.

[9:38 p.m.]

y/n | or I can just tell you about that time when mom and dad found you right next to a trash can on a sidewalk instead? 

y/n | it’s a very lovely story, trust me.

[9:39 p.m.]

meanhoe | ugh, what do you want?

y/n | nothing, Jaemin will drive me home.

y/n | goodnight.

[ 9:40p.m. ]

meanhoe | hey! I can make it up to you still!

y/n | I SAID GOODNIGHT.

You toss your phone back into your purse in pure disappointment. And with a prolonged sigh, you turn to Jaemin. “He abandoned me. Can you give me a ride home?”

He cackles at the scowl on your face and gestures you towards the seat next to the shotgun window. “Hop in.”

four.

“Wow,” Minho utters. “Just wow.” 

“It’s you again, why am I still surprised at this point?” 

He grins coyly and slips the keys into his pocket before running a hand through his bed head. Chuckling creepily, he watches as Changbin struggles to roll both of his suitcases across the bumpy surface of your front porch. “You left my sister crying with a bucket of ice-cream for Italy. How does that feel? You know, to finally be free from her ?” Minho inquires with an amused smile. “But on a serious note, she missed you, very much so. Did you even tell her about this?

“Minho, it’s supposed to be a surprise. Do I have to translate ‘surprise’ into whatever the fuck of a language that all snakes speak in general or you’re fully capable of doing that yourself? Also, it would be so incredibly kind and generous of you to actually comprehend my messages.” 

Minho chuckles and leans back against the wall comfortably. “Why not move back here then? Aren’t you done with your degree already? Or did Italy blind you with their good food and hot girls? You’re quite qualified to be my roommate.” He drags the last part. “Just wish you didn’t have to give me that attitude whenever I’m trying to start a civil conversation.” 

Changbin scoffs at him, clearly uninterested. And Minho’s definition of a civil conversation just concerns him even more. “I have enough qualities to be your roommate? Let me guess, smart ?” 

“Secretly a nerd.” Minho tuts. 

Changbin shoots him a dirty look. “Composed?”

“I’d say indifferent and stubborn.” 

“Brave enough to kill some stupid bugs for you?” 

Minho rolls his eyes. “More like painstakingly reckless.”

“You literally fell off the couch when Jeongin accidentally popped a balloon with his pen.” 

A smirk blooms on his lips. “But you gave him an entire lecture about why he shouldn’t bring pens to a party. Inspiring leadership.”

“Looks good in black?”

Minho looks unimpressed. “Everyone looks good in black you moron.”

“Then why the fuck are you trying to pull me into your system?!” Changbin throws his hands upwards, a frustrated groan escapes his lips. “You know I hate commitments. They give me anxiety. Especially when it involves you.” Which is not entirely correct because he did have a date last week or should have had a date last week. He was so close to pissing himself in the middle of a Michelin rated restaurant. But lucky him, his date flaked out on him before he could start having a full-on mental breakdown inside the restroom. 

A glint of curiosity ignites in Minho’s orbs. “Because you absolutely have no life whatsoever.” He starts calmly, going back and forth within the limited space of the hallway. “And don’t even get me started about your love life. It’s drier than Chan’s attempt at making macarons. Oh and remind me, did your goldfish die or did you kill him? Did he die or was he killed? Or was it both?” He taunts further, and further, and further until he’s hanging on that weird borderline between having Changbin lunge at him like a predator and succeeding at luring him back to Seoul. “I’m being as kind as my mind can possibly allow without a drop of caffeine so you better take it while you’re at it.”

Changbin is fuming with nothing but pure anger. He’s so fucking close to crush every single strand of liveliness left inside of the man in front of him until he turns white like a complete ghost. But he’s also convinced that Lee Minho is just a non-biological heir of the Angel of Death. Hence, getting rid of him is impossible. “Come over here and make me.” Crossed arms, he’s determined to not leave the city without at least throwing a punch at Minho’s ridiculously perfect face. 

“What are you? Four?”

Changbin stops himself from throwing hands at him and turns on his heels. “Nothing, it’s just that I don’t really like you all that much.” He makes his way to the kitchen, tossing his black beanie onto the counter. 

“Yeah, me neither.”

He protests triumphantly. “See?”

“Listen up you man child,” Minho grits and walks behind him through the living room, passing by a hungover Jisung with Woojin on top of him at an unusually persistent pace that seems to cover up the bubbling anger inside his stomach. “Would you stop what you’re doing and listen to me when I’m trying to prove my own point? I’ve known you for all my life—“

Changbin interrupts him. “Those times when you passed by me at the library and made fun of me for studying for finals in high school? Doesn’t count.”

Minho hides behind a rather cheerful voice, his stare colder than an ex-wife’s fighting for custody over her child in court. “That doesn’t matter! Y/N went out with some guy last night and even let him drive her home. I don’t even know if she’s okay or not since she wouldn’t pick up for the past hour. And I just can’t let those two idiots at home alone, completely unaware of their surroundings.” Changbin shoots him a weird look and he quickly brushes it off with a click of his tongue. “Don’t ask.” 

Changbin chokes on the can of Coke that he just grabbed from the fridge. “Wait, so she’s not here?”

“She moved in with Yeji months ago in an apartment near college, didn’t she tell you ?”

“No?” He raises a brow. “And what date? Who? How? Where? When?” 

Changbin’s starting to panic a little bit because if you were to be on a date, you’d most likely hide in the restroom just to text him for a good five minutes. Very much like him. Anyway, he’s also quite concerned about the fact that you didn’t reply to Minho’s texts all morning. Maybe he’s overthinking again but he knows that you’ve forced yourself to be a morning person even when it’s the holiday since you don’t wanna dread bringing back your old habits when a new semester hits. 

Minho drums his fingers against the dining table. “Who? Some boy called Jaemin? How? Tinder. Where? The Hilton Hotel. When? Last night until almost 10 I believe.”

Now Changbin’s fully entered panic mode because since when did you even use Tinder? And not tell him about it too? What if you’re already kidnapped and sold to some creepy people from China to make profits off your organs? “That’s it. Give me her address, I’ll go.” He drops his backpack onto the floor and grabs his coat, downing the last few drops of his beverage in a rush. As soon as Minho texts him your address, Changbin dashes straight through the front door like a tornado to the point that it has Woojin facepalming himself on Minho’s dad’s old carpet. 

“My job here is done.” Minho cracks his knuckle and takes a seat at his family’s dining table, picking up his phone only to receive a text from you. 

[8:23 a.m.]

y/n | ugh, is your friend gonna come over to pick up the speaker or what? it’s been fifteen minutes.

y/n | and what’s his name again? Jackson?

meanhoe | yeah, he’ll be there in ten.

meanhoe | eat a chill pill sis, I’m in charge.

five.

You frown furiously at the series of messages that you and your brother have been sending each other for the past ten minutes. Something smells fishy, and you can already see that stupid, self-indulging smirk spread across his face without him being right next to you. But then again, no one really knows what’s going on inside that disturbing glimpse of thing called ‘a brain’ inside his head because magically, and spontaneously, everything works out whenever he’s in charge. 

Except when he’s in the kitchen with Jisung and Hyunjin as his cannot-be-anymore-useless vice-cooks, aka when they’re holding onto each other for dear life the moment Minho cracks an egg onto a heated pan with oil boiling along the edges. 

“Ugh, Yeji! It’s supposed to be your turn to do laundry, you ass.” You repeatedly hit your roommate’s sleeping figure with a pillow, slightly mad at the fact that she’s still in bed when you’re done with grocery shopping. Sometimes you wonder if her only talent is sleeping through earthquakes. Maybe that’s how she has mad stamina and can still do a decent thirty minutes of cardio after dance practice. 

Yeji mumbles nonsense into her pillow and slaps your hand away only to bury herself under the wool blanket again. It takes every strand of energy left inside of you to pull the soft fabric over her head and onto the floor it goes. “Why are you making such a fuss out of me forgetting to do laundry ?” She sits up grudgingly like a zombie digging itself up from its own grave and yawns obnoxiously. 

You blink numerous times at her in disbelief. “Uhm, hello? Because I don’t have anything to wear? And also, FYI, it’s almost ten, okay? Wake up Sleeping Beauty. Prince Charming isn’t available today.” 

“Shut the fuck up!” She whines loudly before dropping onto her backside in defeat. “You’ve never binge-watched any dramas before, you’d never get it.” Hey, it’s not your fault she chose to stay up until 3 a.m. for a stupid drama. You’re not gonna tolerate her complaints about migraines after having lunch, not this time. 

“Besides,” She glances at you before throwing an arm over her head dramatically. “You look good in that hoodie, where did you get it?” 

You grab various pieces of clothing dangling off of her bed and her beige-colored computer chair as you ponder about your life choices. “Na Jaemin, who else? God, and I need to give it back to him too.” 

Yeji teases. “Are you making an excuse to meet him again?”

“We didn’t click, that’s all I have to say.” A smirk finds its way to your lips. “I basically adopted him now, so yes, I am making an excuse to meet him again because a mother has every right to see their son.” 

“You’re so weird.” Your roommate purses her lips before turning her back against you. 

You scroll through your feed in pure boredom. “What do you want for lunch? Wait, it’s too early for lunch, what about brunch?”

“Anything will do.” Yeji shrugs, not even trying to get out of bed when it’s already 9 a.m. So naturally, you’re already facepalming yourself at her questionable sleeping habits. 

Now, where is that guy Jackson?

As if on cue, your doorbell rings. You’re dead meat to me. You roll up your sleeves and put on your ‘formally serious’ face before grabbing the tote bag right beside your couch. Without even checking who’s there through the peephole, you swing the door open in a rush. “Look, Jackson, I’m really not in the mood to invite you inside for tea nor biscuits so just take the speaker and—“

“Y/N, I don’t need a speaker, stop bombarding me with information that my brain can’t even comprehend. And who the hell is Jackson?” Changbin puts his hands up as if you’re holding him at gunpoint. And you almost laugh out loud at how he looks like he just found out Trump is president, he— wait, Changbin’s here?

You subconsciously drop the speaker without noticing that you might break something before Jackson actually gets here. “You came back?!” Your mouth automatically goes agape, utterly speechless. 

“Of course, why wouldn’t I?” He chuckles when you crash yourself into his embrace as an attempt to hide your teary eyes. Meeting Changbin in person again feels like a rollercoaster full of mixed emotions, you have so many things to say but nothing comes out right. Maybe it’s best if you just keep your mouth shut for the time being. 

And thank God he still smells the same and doesn’t shower himself in ridiculously expensive cologne like other guys because you’d disown him if he starts smelling like a Tommy Hilfiger store. Changbin gently wraps his arms around your waist, rocking you from side to side. “You missed me that much huh?” Suddenly tongue-tied, he’s officially lost the ability to form a proper sentence when you hold onto him so tightly, so desperately. 

When you pull away, you don’t even know what to say when so many things are running through your mind at the speed of light. After all those years, he’s changed. Yes, people change. But Changbin changed, for the better. He looks impeccable even in a simple black t-shirt with a grey bomber jacket thrown over his figure. Wait, has he been hitting the gym? You swear, last time you saw him he was five times smaller. His jawline can now cut you too apparently. Years of friendship and you just found out your best friend is an actual health freak. 

“As if..” You sniffle into the crook of his neck, tears continuously streaming down on your cheeks. Eventually, you give in. “Fine, I did miss you.” 

Changbin laughs wholeheartedly, sending vibration throughout your entire body. “Missed you too, Beastie.”  And it’s there again, that fuzzy feeling tickling the pit of your stomach. It feels wrong, and your heart knows that too well. To the point that you’re afraid of your own feelings for him, that you’d hurt him, or he’d hurt you. You just can’t decide if confessing to him is worth the risk of destroying your friendship forever. But it’s most definitely not. Maybe it’s better this way. 

“Wait,” Changbin scrunches his nose and pulls away. “You smell like a guy.” Then something rings a bell inside of him. “Right, you went on a date with some cute boy without telling me? Explain yourself.” 

You scratch the nape of your neck sheepishly, slightly embarrassed. “Well… long story short, I got bored and downloaded Tinder. He was cute, but not compatible.” 

“There you are, what took you so long?” Yeji pops her head out of her bedroom, almost giving you a heart attack. 

You toss her a look. “What do you mean ‘what took you so long? Did you know? Again ?” And she nods apologetically. “Why the fuck do I feel so left out right now? Are you guys setting me up for something sketchy? Who’s in charge?” 

“Your brother, obviously.” 

You step aside so that Changbin can walk into your living room before shutting the front door closed. “Zip it, he’s adopted.” 

six.

Kim Woojin, as always, throws his annual ‘welcome back’ BBQ party whenever someone returns from a long trip for a fairly long time. Of course, he would never leave Changbin hanging. 

Which, also means you’re obligated to accept the fact that he just single-handedly dragged you out of your apartment with the most minimal of physical effort. So now you’re stuck inside his stupid kitchen, with your siblings (no not Minho, not that heathen), potatoes. You look so incredibly alike your brother might actually be whatever with the harsh truth that you can’t stop taunting him about how he’s adopted. 

Anyway, because you’ve always been terrified about the thought of accidentally having your sleeves caught on fire, Chan just shooed you back inside to work on the potato salad. And the worst part of making a potato salad? Peeling the skin. Seriously, you’d marry someone who invented an automatic potato peeler, that’d be godsend privilege. 

The saying goes : ‘When life gives you lemons, you make lemonade’. Likewise, but in your case, it’s : ‘When life makes you cook, get yourself a best friend who’s good at it instead’. Problem solved. Changbin might not be as great as *snorts* Minho, but he did manage to survive multiple months in Italy without spending too much money eating out when he’s very, absolutely, entirely financially capable of doing that for the rest of his life. He appreciates home-cooked food because of the process, the time, the effort, the love that every family member (or one family member) put into the dishes. And it may not be something that’s Gordon Ramsay-approved, but gathering around at the same table gives people the chance to catch up, to communicate, to care more. 

And what does that mean? Well, that means when Changbin, fortunately, makes it out of the war zone in Woojin’s backyard where Hyunjin is chasing Jisung with a dead spider between his metal tong, he finds out that he just, in fact, got himself into another disaster. Bits of potatoes’ skin is everywhere, scattered randomly from the kitchen aisle to the wooden cutting board. Bottles of mayonnaise and mustard are lying lifelessly across the dining table, saucing dripping from the opened caps. And jars of different spices look like they just got dumped into one big bucket, mixed together, and then carefully divided them evenly into each one again. Changbin is utterly alarmed right now and he can’t decide whether he should be helping you or just run away. But since it’s you, he can’t simply turn on his heels and leave because chances are, you’re gonna fucking stab him in his sleep. 

“Woah, who did you kill ?” He gasps, taking slow strides toward your figure standing at the kitchen aisle. 

You blow a few strands of loose hair out of your face, crying dramatically. “My sanity, it’s long gone.” You tell him as you try to stir the mixture of mayonnaise, paprika, apple cider vinegar, celery seeds, mustard, and sweet pickle relish in a stainless steel bowl with a wooden spoon, trying hard not to ruin Jaemin’s favorite hoodie. “And if you’re not planning on giving me a hand, then the exit is right that way. No one’s stopping you.” 

Changbin shakes his head at you in disapproval for a hot minute before pulling your hair free from the loose bun, accidentally dousing himself in the more than familiar scent of your shampoo. Fresh, and a bit pepperminty, he missed this so much it’s starting to get creepy. Basically his heart just swells, but he’s gonna choose to be in denial like usual. “Better get your hair out of your face first.” He says and effortlessly puts your messy, black mop of hair into a high ponytail. It’s not like he hasn’t done this before because Changbin tends to play with your hair a lot while you’re both on a Netflix marathon. But this time, you didn’t know what it was, but the moment the tips of his fingers brushed past your bare skin, they sent electricity down your spine and goosebumps rose on your skin. The fact that your little heart feels like it’s running on a treadmill for hours doesn’t make it easier to deny how much he can affect you without even trying.

“Why are you still wearing that hoodie ?” Changbin points out, confused. 

You answer monotonously, still mad at your roommate. “Because Yeji forgot to do laundry. So I have nothing to wear.” You hate her even more now because she’s probably gonna be out and about, going to questionable parties with Ryujin until dawn and asking for a cup of water when she gets back home on your bean bag chair. “I’m gonna have to return it to Jaemin soon.” 

Changin snickers. “Yeah, you better.” He finishes chopping up the hard-boiled eggs, celery, sweet onions, and fresh dill, dropping the ingredients into the dressing that you just made. 

“So,” You walk over to the dining table to grab the bowl of chopped potato. “How did your date go? Was she cute or did she look like a potential serial killer? Wait, serial killers can look cute.” You shiver at the thought of losing your best friend in some foreign country because someone can literally be kidnapped in a span of fifteen to twenty seconds. So you don’t see the point of being ashamed about always being paranoid. 

Changbin helps you pour the dressing over the potato before stirring the goodness together with a wooden spoon. “Ah, that,” He scratches the nape of his neck sheepishly. “She’s okay I guess. But you never know, talking over text is always easier.” 

You decide to let Changbin finish up the dish and grab some paper towels to wipe down the table and counter. “So you guys never met up ?”

He looks hesitant to tell you. “Technically, we were gonna see each other every day because of the internship but I guess no? Our schedules aren’t exactly compatible. Maybe I’ll just ask her out again when I fly back.” 

You stop cleaning up the mess on the kitchen aisle and turn your attention onto your best friend. He’s nibbling on his bottom lips, guilt is evident in his eyes. 

“What internship?” You ask. 

seven.

Seo Changbin used to have ( and still has ) a soft spot for you. And everyone knows that all too well. 

He wasn’t kidding when he said that you’re his favorite girl. He wasn’t kidding when he said that he’d take a bullet for you. But you kinda wish that he was because falling in love with your childhood best friend just sounds so wrong on so many levels altogether. Jaemin night be right, it is written in the stars for some people to fall in love with their best friend but that life is not for you. There’s just something about the idea of Changbin and you as lovers that twists an immediate knot in your stomach. Sometimes you wish he doesn’t have to be so affectionate towards you so that you can give up on the one thing that’s holding you back : false hope. 

He would always drag you out of bed in the middle of the night to watch the stars and talk with him even when you guys were practically inseparable. Your group of friends constantly tells you that Changbin could never keep his hands to himself when it comes to you but realistically, he’s just a secretly clingy person who loves cuddling. But those little moments where you guys were sharing the same bed, snuggling into each other’s presence like it’s the last sense of comfort in the entire world were the ones you cherish the most. They can make you smile stupidly to yourself all day. 

And Changbin never failed to surprise you too. He once made the whole fancy breakfast in bed with flowers that only happens in movies and you couldn’t stop talking about it. Even ‘till this day, you still can’t shut up about it. He only brushed it off and told you that he wanted to spoil you since it’s your birthday but you took it as something much more than just a birthday present. Because those little actions of his are what set your heart on fire and you feel like it could combust anytime if he keeps looking at you so tenderly all the time.

Changbin isn’t a man of many words because he truly believes that actions speak louder than words. At least for him, his actions are much more powerful than his words. But that doesn’t mean his words never had any kind of effect on you. Because they did, greatly. You still remember how you’d always wake him up in the middle of the night because your stupid brain cells decided to give you a mental breakdown after bottling feelings up for so long. But Changbin didn’t just scold you for keeping everything to yourself, he did something else much more magical and much more comforting than any advice you could ever have. 

He’s written plenty of songs for you before, and you can still vividly hear the familiar melodies every now and then whenever you’re in a really dark place. 

It felt like a tight hug when you were all alone and in distress. But what sucks is that it makes you miss him even more. Where in the world is he? What is he doing? Does he have a decent life? Moreover, is he happy? You were always worried sick about Changbin because he’s that type of guy who works his ass off for things that he’s passionate about but he’d be willing to do something else for others because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. Hence, upon hearing about him turning down an internship just to fly back, you didn’t know what to say or think. 

You yell at Changbin. “Are you out of your mind?!” 

He huffs in disbelief. “I’m a fully grown man who has every right to make my own decisions so I chose to visit my friends instead of torturing myself inside a studio. Yeah, sue me!”

“Do you have any idea how many opportunities and chances that internship would bring? There’s no need for you to do that just because of us!”

Changbin points out snarkily. “Well, you were the one who decided to call me at 3 a.m. every single day, complaining about your insomnia and shit.”

You gasp scandalously. “Why are you even saying that? It’s like you don’t even know me! I’m trying to put your benefits before mine, why is it so hard to understand that? Are you trying to say that I’m the bad guy in this conversation?”

“Maybe you are,” He says through gritted teeth. “Likewise, I’m trying to put my friends first instead of locking myself up within four soundproof walls twenty-four hours a day, five days a week, until spring break is over. You are being fucking ridiculous!” 

You’re slightly taken aback when Changbin had the audacity to say such things. Why is he still so fucking stubborn? “I’m the one who’s being ridiculous? Me trying to not get my best friend's talent wasted, me trying to not have my best friend make the rest of his break go wack because all we do here is apparently get drunk, eat, sleep, and repeat. That, is being ridiculous ?” You let out a humorless laugh. “Well, if I need to keep on doing that in order to keep you on track with your dream, then I fucking will.”

He hisses at you. “What are you? My mom? I’m a fully grown adult for fuck’s sake!” 

“Yes, I am technically your mom since the day you threw up on my dress in kindergarten. I even wiped your puke off of your face, you ungrateful brat.” 

“Uhm guys, you might wanna tone it down..” Felix tries to cool off the situation since he doesn’t really enjoy eating dinner while two people are continuously throwing daggers at each other with their eyes. 

Another thing, no matter how whipped you are for Seo Changbin, there’s still this little demonic part in your heart that screams to strangle the light out of his eyes every single day. Even back then, you guys bickered like there’s no tomorrow without a care in the world. Fortunately, your problems were always quick to be resolved because you just could never bring yourself to hate him even when you wanted to. He’s just that contagious, never fails to put a smile on your face nonetheless. 

So naturally, it’s ten minutes into the BBQ party in Woojin’s backyard and you’re more than ready to fight him. Metaphorically, not literally because you’re too utterly soft for him anyway. 

“Shh, shh,” Minho easily shushes Felix up with his index finger over his lips. “Lix, keep it down, the Petty Olympics is just getting started.” 

Jeongin purses his lips. “You’re such a snake, did you know that?” He’s obnoxiously chewing on the slices of grilled steak that Chan just took off the iron rack. Like Felix, he wishes to enjoy dinner in peace but that has not happened for quite some time and he’s already sick of it. 

Minho rolls his eyes at the younger boy with nothing but disgust in his eyes. “Wow, what a truly shocking revelation, Jeongin. It’s for the irony, sarcasm is needed in order for my joke to work.” He sips on the glass of whiskey in front of him like how he simply sips on his coworkers’ complaints about their relationships every morning. “Now run along, grab your monthly paycheck and buy yourself a sense of humor.” 

Jisung snickers. “Wow, is he mean today—“ 

You cut Jisung off unintentionally, huffing with such determination. “Don’t ever talk to me again.”

Changbin says casually. “It’s not like I want to.”

“I will break you.” You give him your best death glare.

He tips his imaginary hat with a smirk tugged on his lips. “If that’s what makes you happy, then I certainly cannot wait for it, Little Mistress.”

eight.

It’s the second time you’re hanging out with Jaemin and still, you can’t bring yourself to develop any non-platonic feelings for him. Do you really want to date him? Not really. Again, he’s not a bad guy. In fact, girls can just pass by you both walking by the Han River and they’re already eyeing him up and down like an expensive piece of steak. 

Maybe it’s something about trying to push Changbin out of your mind for once in your life. Or it can be something about the fact that he actually has some kind of romantic interest in his Tinder date. Or you’re just being ridiculous and totally overthinking the situation. 

It’s sad, but you’ll have to accept it sooner or later. You see Jaemin as nothing but a friend, and a little brother because he’s funny, respectful, and everything you can ask for in a guy. But, at the end of the day, he’s just not Changbin. 

And although you’re madly in love with your best friend, it seems like Jaemin gets you and manages to keep your mind off of him for the day so that you don’t end up crying alone in one of the bathroom stalls. You can’t be any more thankful. 

“You seriously didn’t have to watch ‘Dolittle’ twice just because of me,” Jaemin tells you as you both stand at the front door of the movies, hugging his bucket of popcorn closer to his stomach. 

You smile at him. “Robert Downey Jr. is worth watching any movie twice. That’s why I’m still not over the Endgame depression phase because I may or may not watch it one too many times.” 

He rolls his eyes at you and proceeds to throw his garbage away. “Crybaby.” Then, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and walks you towards the entrance. “I had fun tonight. Thanks, Y/N, it means a lot. Should I walk you home?”

“I don’t see why you shouldn’t.” You answer cheekily. 

Jaemin teases, “Because your boyfriend might show up and punch me in the face?” 

“Shut up! He’s not my boyfriend!”

“Woah, I didn’t even say who it was. You’re so whipped for him.”

You elbow him in the stomach, earning a low grunt from him as a response. “I shouldn’t have given you your hoodie back. I should have burnt it or something.”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, holding onto the paper bag that you brought tightly. “No, keep it if you want to. You look good in it.” 

Before you can even clap-back at him with a witty retort, your phone vibrates inside your pocket. “Sorry, someone texted me.”

[ 9:23p.m. ]

meanhoe | Y/N WHERE ARE YOU?!

meanhoe | SOMEONE BROKE INTO OUR HOUSE!

meanhoe | I’m upstairs rn, but there were some sketchy sounds earlier. I think they’re in our kitchen.

meanhoe | Bin’s still in the living room!

meanhoe | COME HOME!!

Oh. My. God. 

nine.

“Changbin, pick up, pick up,” You murmur and keep pacing back and forth at your parents’ front porch, frantically fumbling with your phone in your hands. “Goddamnit just pick up!” You groan out of frustration when you can’t even open the door because it’s locked, and Changbin’s not doing a great job at responding to your calls either. Which can only mean one thing, he’s being held hostage inside along with your brother and the intruder’s probably confiscated their phones. 

You’d take a bullet for Changbin if that’s the last thing you could do for him. There are no words to fathom how important he is to you, so now instead of thinking of how to save his ass, you’re stupidly, foolishly thinking back to high school where he would always eat lunch with you whenever Minho’s too caught up with practice, where you both would lie under an ugly tree at the very back of your school’s enormous backyard, trying to do homework and dozing off five minutes after. Changbin’s been with you through thicks and thins, with all of your ups and downs. His lack of doubt for you was what helped you survive those horrendous years and you’ve decided that you’re not gonna let go of him, not in this life. 

Therefore, you’re about to do something dumb. That something is going to prevent your best friend from getting murdered. But the chances of getting your head blown into bits are undeniably high too. That wouldn’t matter now, would it? If the intruder dares to tick you off, he best believes that you’re gonna fucking take him down with you. 

Mustering all of the courage you have left, slowly, your fingers hover over the doorknob, the other on the wooden surface, ready to bang on it like a crazy person. You inhale sharply and close your eyes. 3..2..1..

The door suddenly swings open, causing you to stagger forward and your eyes widen in panic. “Y/N? What the hell?” Changbin catches you in time and frowns furiously at your soaked figure. Your hair and clothes are doused with rain, the tips of your fingers as cold as ice from staying outside for so long. You flutter your eyes open at his words, mouth grows agape when you find out that your current position can’t be any more awkward. 

Great, now what?

Wait, where’s the intruder? “Are you okay?!” You mindlessly throw yourself at him, holding onto him so tightly like he’s gonna disintegrate into thin air once you let him go. Blood is roaring inside your ears, your heart is picking up its pace as you have so many questions, so many things to say but.. he seems pretty okay? “Is Minho okay too? Where is he? Why didn’t you pick up my calls? Why was the door locked?” 

Changbin pulls away softly to prevent you from hearing his heart thumping vigorously inside of his rib cage, eyes as wide as a goldfish’s. “What? Minho’s downtown today to meet up with his old friend who’s studying abroad. Didn’t he tell you?” 

“No?” You knit your brows together and take a full ten seconds to process what just happened. Why do you feel like you just got played? 

He closes the door and walks you inside. “And why the hell do you look like a wet rat? Did you just walk home? Weren’t that Jaemin guy supposed to drive you instead?” You purposely ignore his questions and continue to piece the little amount of information that you have together. But once you throw a glance at your parents’ living room, you see a box of fresh, piping hot Hawaiian pizza with ‘Fast and Furious’ playing on the forty-eight inches TV. With that, everything makes sense. 

You ran home as fast as you possibly could, under the rain when it’s dark outside all alone and this is how your brother repays you? 

“Wow,” You utter, somewhat lightheaded. “I need to sit down.” You tell Changbin when he comes back with a white fluffy, towel. He clicks his tongue in annoyance, wordlessly bringing the towel to your head as an attempt to dry off your hair. You’re startled by his sudden affection, cheeks growing pink as you avoid eye contact. 

Changbin caresses your cheekbone gently as if you’re far too fragile for him to touch and you just play dumb by batting your eyelashes repeatedly to shake the droplets of rain away. He quickly snaps out of it, taken aback by his own action. “Would you care to tell me what happened before I put you on trial?” He says with his arms crossed.

Your blood slowly boils as you choke on your own exasperation.“Minho told me that someone broke into our house and basically held you hostage. So I rain-checked on Jaemin, ran home only to find you in one piece with a pizza while watching ‘Fast & Furious’.” You hide your face behind your palms in sheer embarrassment as Changbin cackles his ass off in his annoyingly adorable laughter that makes you crack up every time. 

He throws his head back and continues to laugh wholeheartedly, holding onto his stomach for dear life. “He got you good, wow. So much for supporting his sister’s second date. I’m sure he just wants to make sure that you’re home before twelve.” 

“HE COULD HAVE JUST PICKED ME UP HIMSELF! HELLO?” You throw your hands in the air, huffing. You swear to God, Minho’s dead meat to you tomorrow morning. Your brother knows your feelings for Changbin all too well and he’s just doing everything he can to kick Jaemin out of your love life but the irony here is Jaemin was never there in the first place. But, Minho’s an evil mad genius so he still succeeded in pushing you back to Changbin when you’re trying to avoid him the most. Props to him, you’re now stuck inside a house with your best friend because your parents are currently going on vacation in Bora Bora. 

That wouldn’t be a problem unless you’re madly in love with him. But you are, and it sucks. 

You exclaim, smacking Changbin’s arm, causing him to whine loudly. “Would you stop laughing? I was scared that you’re gonna get murdered!” 

In a split second, he pulls you flushed against him, rocking you back and forth as he ruffles your hair. When the vibration of his chuckle emits from his chest just makes your heart skip a beat. Changbin’s never been the cheesy, romantic type like Hyunjin but sometimes he does these things that just messes up your heart more as if it’s not already all over the place. 

“Come on, Beastie, go change your clothes. I wouldn’t wanna cuddle with a sick person.” 

ten.

One shower and five minutes later, you’re on the sofa right beside Changbin with your head rested comfortably on his shoulder. The first episode of ‘The Umbrella Academy’ is blaring clamorously on your dad’s TV as your eyelids grow heavy, hanging on the edge of shutting before your favorite character even pops up. 

Changbin notices your sleepiness and pulls the wool blanket closer to your body, high enough to cover the rest of your shoulders as you snuggle into the crook of his neck. He pouts at the box of pizza and two empty bottles of Henny before playing with your hair, braiding a small section of it in boredom. He’s definitely not the type to rewatch any shows but since you’re just so pumped for the second season, you insisted that you two should binge-watch season one all over again. Obviously, he doesn’t see the point because he already knows everything, how does rewatching it has anything to do with getting him ready for the next season? Besides, you’re already falling asleep when it’s only ten minutes into the episode. 

But is Changbin gonna let you sleep in peace just like that after all those years of you waking him up at an ungodly hour? Nope. 

“Hey,” He nudges you with his elbow. “They said there wouldn’t be a second season.” 

You jolt up from your sleepy state, eyes shooting open in utter surprise and disappointment. “Wait what?! Why not?!” You cry out dramatically, hands batting in midair like a madwoman as if they’re looking for something to hold onto. Soon enough, you plop yourself back onto the couch in defeat, letting the alcohol take over your entire body. You can already feel it kicking in as your limbs grow lighter and so does your mind. Gosh, you just wish you weren’t so lightweight. 

Changbin chuckles at you, caressing your hair softly. He pulls you closer to him by your shoulder and takes in your scent like it’s the last sense of comfort on Earth. “You’re so cute when you’re drunk, did you know that?” He studies your features closely, quickly realizing how much he must matter to you for you to show this vulnerable side to him so casually. Giddiness is an understatement for the way that his heart just beats ten times faster, the way his arms hold you close so gently but so tightly at the same time. In this cracked darkness with the insufficient source of light from the TV screen, you’re so beautiful it takes the breath right out of his lungs. You seem too serene to be true, eyes closed, lips slightly agape it makes him wonder how it feels to seal his with yours. 

As if on cue, your favorite character appears on time and you swat the sleepiness away, pointing at the screen with half-open eyes. “Five! He’s so cute, can I adopt him, please?” You giggle and show him those infamous puppy eyes. Changbin can never resist it’s actually frustrating. 

“Yes, you can adopt a serial killer who knows how to travel through time, absolutely.” Changbin facepalms himself. “Honestly, what do you even see in him?” 

“He’s smart and funny, and a total badass. I like how he never sugarcoats things and stays true to himself. But, he also puts others before himself without expecting them to do the same thing back. His actions speak louder than his words because there are countless times where he saved his siblings although he talks to them as if he sees them as nothing more than a bunch of assholes. I admire him in so many ways although he’s just a fictional character. And you know why?” You cock your head sideways, leaning closer. “Because he kinda reminds me of you.” 

Changbin tenses up at the last part. “W-What?” 

The ‘sober Y/N’ would never be brave enough to tell him what you’re planning on saying next. “I love you, Bin. I know that I might not act like I give a fuck, but I genuinely care about you. You mean the world to me.” You blurt mindlessly, hiccuping into his ears. “I really do love you. I just never got the courage to say it.” You hum and toppling over his figure on top of the couch, your legs straddling his. 

“We can’t.” Changbin places his index finger on your lips to stop you from decreasing the distance. “You’re not thinking straight right now.” 

You pull back, frowning. “Why? Because I’m not sober? What do my feelings for you have anything to do with alcohol?” You’re not mad, but rather curious. Either way, you can’t seem to get mad at Changbin for more than ten seconds. 

“I- I don’t wanna hurt you.” He stutters and stops as he sees the heartbroken look in your eyes. It hurts even more because deep down, the sober part in you knows that you’d never fathom enough courage to actually tell him how you feel. And you also know that you’ve just potentially fucked up more than ten years worth of friendship. Changbin’s warm brown eyes stare at you with nothing but pure sincerity. “It’s like I’m taking advantage of you in this kind of state. It’s not right. You don’t deserve to be treated like that.” He brushes your hair out of your face and sighs. 

“Bin, you respect me like no one else does. You know it. I know it. We know it. You’re my best friend.” 

“That’s the problem.” He pulls you closer while rubbing little circles on your back. “Promise me that we’ll never change, yeah?” 

You wrap your hands around his neck, a tear threatening to fall from the corner of your eye. “Yeah..promise.” 

“Y/N, you didn’t do anything wrong.” He reassures you as a confirmation, standing up from the couch that he’s been occupying for too long. You keep your gaze low, unable to meet his eyes as you’re ashamed of your own action. You shouldn’t have done that. What were you thinking for fuck’s sake?

Changbin turns off the TV before guiding you towards the stairs in the dark, holding onto your waist tightly enough so that you won’t slip. “Don’t blame yourself on this, okay?”

You voice quietly, almost a whisper. “Okay.” 

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

eleven.

That night, you held onto Changbin like he’s the last thing you’re ever gonna see although you knew too well that it’s meaningless. What’s the point anyways? He just slapped your confession away and that alone was enough for you to understand that he sees you as nothing more than a friend. However, it’s still better than being stuck in that weird gray area that just keeps messing with your mind. You wouldn’t want to get in his way either. So when Changbin tried to peel your hands away from his torso gently in the middle of the night, your eyes remained closed as you rolled on the other side of the bed. 

When you woke up in the morning, he was already gone. 

It’s like he’s never been there all of those years as if he’s just an illusion that your delusional self made up to comfort yourself when things get hard. All of his belongings were nowhere to be found, his bed in the guest room was neatly made, something that he’s never done before. Changbin left no traces, no notes, no messages, no nothing like it’s a natural implement for ‘Don’t bother looking for me, I’m not gonna come back’. But to you, it feels more like ‘You fucked up our friendship, Y/N. I will never speak to you again’. 

Losing a best friend of a lifetime is way worse than going through a breakup. But it hurts more when you’ve unintentionally developed feelings for him when you know too well that it’s not right. It’s not right. And you seriously screwed up. You just hurt the one and only person that’s so incredibly close and special to your heart. Therefore, you’re distraught, unable to do anything right for some of the following days. Utterly destroyed, you can’t seem to stop blaming yourself for what happened. 

Changbin’s done so much for you and you can’t be any more grateful to have him in your life. There was this time where you totally lashed out on him because you were just having a ‘bad day’. He didn’t even get mad at you, he never gets mad at you. Instead, Changbin let you lock yourself up in your room for an hour until he came back with a box of chocolate and flowers. Everything fell right back into its place again and you really don’t know what you did to deserve him. He always goes out of his way, prioritizing others’ benefits rather than his own. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone at all because, in your heart, you know that he can be hurt easily too. 

So it’s no shocker that you’re madly in love with him. You like how he smiles and looks at you like you’re the only person that’s existing in this celestial sphere. You like the sound of his laughter because it reminds you of Spongebob sometimes, it’s ridiculously adorable in the best way possible. You also like how he clings onto you and lets you be the big spoon whenever he’s having a long day, you can’t stop smiling knowing that he finds comfort in your presence. 

The only flaw about him is that he’s all about that healthy life, which is good for him but you’re not adapting that any time soon. And he doesn’t talk about himself enough as he’s always used to listening to others’ problems instead. He’s flawsome, but you’re willing to embrace it all. Yes, as cheesy as it sounds, you love all of him. 

Just because he’s Seo Changbin. 

You stay up for many days, thinking an awful amount and flashbacking to when you’re on top of him, staring at him so tenderly as those idiotic words slipped out of your lips. All of because of one single beer. You just wish you could take it all back. If so, maybe you wouldn’t have lost the person you care about the most. 

“No, she won’t eat no matter what I say.” You can hear Yeji’s voice echoes from the living room as you throw an arm over your eyes. “I don’t think you should see her right now, not when she’s on the verge of breaking down every two seconds.” You don’t even have to look to know that your brother’s outside, probably worried sick about you. Minho might not be the type of person to show affections on a regular basis, but he genuinely cares about the people around him. He just doesn’t know how to express that he cares. 

The front door closes with a small ‘click’, making you jolt up from your bed. Your roommate pushes the door to your bedroom open and runs a hand through her hair. She practically grimaces at the current state of your room : curtains closed, clothes scattered all over the place with you still in your PJs. It’s funny because normally, you’re the one who complains whenever she’s being messy, now Yeji has the perfect reason to pay back. “Jesus Christ,” She frowns when her hands open the beige-colored curtains. “Get yourself together, will you?”

“Leave-me-alone.” You hiss at her like a snake when the light comes flooding in, blinding your eyes in the process. “What do you want? Am I not depressed enough to be at peace?”

She shakes her head and sits down next to your reclined form on the bed, a hand finds its way to your back. “No, you’re just in denial.” Yeji pulls your figure closer, embracing you with as much sincerity that she can muster. She might as well have you scream at her for forgetting to do laundry and waking up late rather than seeing you barely alive like this. If this goes on for too long, you might end up in the ER. And she can care less about whatever you’re planning on doing next because clearly, you’re not emotionally stable enough to make your own decisions right now. 

You look down. “About what?”

“About the fact that Seo Changbin likes you too.” She says softly. “Only a dumbass can’t see that he’s completely head over heels for you.”

You chuckle dryly. “He’s not, he probably hates me.”

“He never hated you, he never hates you, and he will never hate you.” Yeji sighs as you snuggle closer to her chest. “Why would you think that Changbin hates you?” 

Your eyes widen in terror as the night before when he left replays in your head over and over again. The more you think about it, the more you wanna kick yourself for not controlling our own feelings. Three words and your best friend’s gone. He was right, you guys could never, you weren’t thinking straight. Even down to that moment, Changbin put you before him and treated you with nothing but respect. “Because I ruined our friendship. Things are never gonna be the same again. I shouldn’t have fallen for him, I’m so stupid.” You let out an audible groan and bury your face into your palms. 

Yeji peels your hands away and forces you to look at her. “I don’t see why falling for Seo Changbin is considered stupid. You see things in him that no one else does, and you even had the courage to confess how you truly feel, even when it’s because of a bottle of Henny. Not everyone can accept that because people are cowards when it comes to commitment and their own feelings.” She keeps looking you dead in the eye as if she’s testing you. “Look, even if Changbin doesn’t feel the same way. He can never hate you.”

“And why should I believe you?” 

Your roommate laughs in disbelief, shaking your shoulder forcefully. “Are you blind? Do you even hear yourself right now? Haven’t you seen the way that he looks at you, eyes sparkling like puppies and all? If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is. Even if it’s not the love that you wanted him to return, he still loves you as a friend. He just ran away because, well, he’s human too. He might need some time to himself and make up his mind.” 

You stare into the distance this time, eyes empty. “True love doesn’t count if it’s not returned, don’t you agree?” 

Yeji rolls her eyes at you, she looks like she’s about to personally drag your ass across the planet, straight to Italy just to make up with Changbin. “Oh-my-god, you’re impossible! Of course, it counts! So what, you’re telling me that your feelings for him after all these years would mean nothing if he doesn’t say those three words back? I know that you’re sad and angry about what happened, but I think it’s much better than bottling everything up all to yourself. You were brave for doing that, Y/N.”

Your lips stay sealed as you decide to listen to her lecture obediently like a child. “Do you think Changbin would want to see you like this? No, no one wants to see you all depressed and miserable. Do you have any idea how worried Minho is? Have you checked the notifications on your phone? It’s not like you can’t move on with life without Changbin, you can and you will if that’s what you have to do.” 

“So..?” 

“Are you gonna step up and get your life back again or what?”

You groan internally, because gosh, you hate it whenever she’s right. 

twelve.

From then on, Changbin’s like a phantom in your life, not because he’s constantly popping out of nowhere to scare the living daylight out of you, but because he’s constantly on your mind. Everything feels a little bit emptier without him. You don’t have to worry about having cilantro in your daily meals because he’s not there to complain about it. And there’s no longer a random cup of chai tea in the fridge on Sunday mornings because he can’t buy you one anymore. 

But at the same time, everything reminds you of him. Like how his pairs of designer shoes aren’t laying around at your front door, how his favorite hoodies aren’t being forgotten at your place intentionally, and how the Stitch stuffed animal he gave you last year still reeks off his significant scent. Everything gives you a hard time to finally let him go, but ultimately, you know that you’ll pull through. And you did. 

You move on with a college degree waiting for you at the end of this dark, bumpy road. Changbin, on the other hand, you can’t say much because his SoundCloud account is currently empty. He deleted every single song, every mixtape, every demo possible as if he’s trying to wipe his existence out of your life completely. Which makes it more difficult for you to muster up some courage and reach out to him again. 

It’s almost a year, and you wish he could have just given you a sign about whether he’s fine with being friends or not. But as always, leaving notes is definitely not his department. The thing is, you feel like you both didn’t just grow apart. You also grew up. 

“Y/N, did you ask me to go to the movies just because you didn’t feel like studying for finals?” Jaemin nudges you with his elbow and you smack his arms in return. Okay, technically you did grow up but old habits die hard, and you’re still procrastinating. Nothing new, but the occasional non-dates with Jaemin somehow helped with the aching part in your heart. You can’t say that he’s your new best friend because gosh, no one could ever replace Changbin. But ever since you found out that you guys go to the same college, you kept running into him on campus. Hence, hanging out with him is practically unavoidable. 

You laugh, letting him swing an arm around your shoulders. “Nope, it’s because I love hanging out with you.”

“Does that naturally imply as you love me?” He grins coyly before approaching your car at the very end of the parking lot. You’ve talked about this before. ‘Love’ is an overstatement for the love that you have for Jaemin. Of course, you love him, just not in a romantic way and he accepts that. Although he does sometimes pull you in as a stunt just to get a discount for buying a couples’ combo. You let him, only because you’re both broke college students who are dreading your own student’s loans. 

“Sure, I just love you so much I can’t even bring myself to say it without doing this.” You slowly feed his ego and your right hand quickly grabs the right side of his ears, dragging him into the driver’s seat of your car. Jaemin stops wincing once you let him go, pouting when you enter through the back door. “Serves you right.” You scoff, throwing him the key to start the engine. 

He rubs his now swollen, red ear in pain, whining out loud like a kid that’s not allowed to buy popcorn when their parents bring them to the movie theatre. “This is domestic violence, I’m suing.” He complains but still hits the gas and starts backing out of the overpacked parking lot. People go wild during the weekends. That’s why you’re letting him drive because you suck. 

You smile satisfactorily. “Ah, enslaved child labor at its finest.” If looks could kill, Minho would probably find your corpse in the car, limbs spread wide open because Jaemin is occasionally tossing you dirty looks through the rear-view mirror as he finds a way to hide a body while driving towards your neighborhood. 

When you get home, you politely offer Jaemin to stay for dinner but he said he’s got a date to catch up with so you just let him be. Yeji isn’t gonna be home until nine because of her shift at the café so you basically have the whole apartment to yourself until your roommate returns from work. 

Exhausted from spending all day on campus and going to the movies after, you quickly get rid of your long coat and plop yourself onto the couch. You waste absolutely no time and automatically hang yourself upside down on the cushioned surface while scrolling through your feed in boredom. You like to change up your position every ten minutes so that you feel less like a potato while your blood circulation isn’t gonna get blocked anywhere. 

The moment you’re about to accept a video call from Jisung, you’re interrupted with a rather strange notification. You decide to text him, saying that you’re busy with a presentation and open the email from an unknown email. The email doesn’t have any specific title and you don’t think it belongs to any of your classmates. However, there’s a file attached to it which makes you even more confused. Who’d send a random video to someone they don’t even know? What if this is some kind of trick that people use for human trafficking? Like once you tap on it, there’s an automatic tracker on your phone and soon enough, you’ll go missing. 

“for_you.mp4”

It makes your heart skip a beat as realization hits you like a truck. Deep down, you know, you know who it belongs to and you’re even more terrified to watch it. But you have to, you have to watch it. With a sharp inhale, your index finger trembles until it comes in contact with your screen, opening the file. 

“Is this thing on?” 

You immediately burst into tears as soon as Changbin appears. You’re stupidly, foolishly crying as he awkwardly adjusts the camera angle, checking himself in the monitor and runs a hand through his hair. Changbin’s wearing that one fitted black t-shirt that he probably bought in big bulks, warm brown eyes peeking through his messy bangs. He’s never looked better to the point that you’re tongue-tied, unable to scream even when you have so many questions, so many things to say. Yet only tears come streaming down your face. You missed him dearly, and here he is finally. 

“Y/N?” Changbin quirks a brow and smiles. God, you missed his smile too. “If you’re watching this video, don’t..post it on social media. It’s gonna be a real tearjerker.” 

You chuckle, wiping your tears away with the sleeves of your hoodie. He didn’t change, at all. “I don’t know if you can still forgive me for what I’ve done, but I still owe you an apology. I’m sorry for running away. I’m sorry for hurting your feelings. I’m sorry for not treating you right. It’s just when you said that you loved me, it sparked so much skepticism inside my head that even I couldn’t understand what I was thinking. Next thing I know, I was out the door, straight to the airport. I was an asshole and I know that. I hope you’re taking good care of yourself right now because you did nothing wrong. In fact, there’s something that I’ve been wanting to tell you too. I can’t seem to be complete without you. You’re it. You’re my endgame.” 

When Changbin takes in a deep breath, so do you. You nervously scratch onto the black nail polish that’s starting to chip off on your pinkie, waiting for him as he fiddles with his fingers. Suddenly, he looks straight into the camera and laughs. “Why are you still here? You didn’t see the notification, did you?”

What notification?

Your trains of thoughts are once again canceled when your phone buzzes. You’ve just got a notification from an app that you barely touched since Changbin left. “SpearB just posted a new track. Check it out!”

“Neverending Story ( Demo ).” 

Faster than a tick of the clock, you start playing the track, fingers drumming impatiently on one of your throw pillows. “Be mine, yeah?” His raspy voice sounds ten thousand times more attractive because it’s been a while since you’ve heard it and chills run up your spine. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, your heart hanging on the verge of exploding. The soft instrumental blends in with the piano in the background perfectly, drowning out every other sound in the entire world. But what throws you off is that Changbin starts singing. It’s the first time you’ve ever heard him sing and it’s truly breathtaking that you can do nothing more than sitting there with a hand over your mouth, letting the melody guide your mind. 

“Whenever you smile, whenever you struggle

I'll always protect you

For you,

I can even go against time

Just to appear in front of you

I believe, I believe

Even if the world changes

Can you promise that we won't?”

The first verse bleeds into the pre-chorus, then the chorus itself and Changbin starts rapping, spilling the feelings that he’s been struggling with saying out for you. Every word, every sound, every note hits differently and you feel like you’re already on cloud nine, drifting off into a daze. You can fully acknowledge and feel the ignited passion that he has for you even when he’s more than five thousand miles away, on the other side of the planet. But that’s all you need honestly because what more can you ask for? 

As if on cue, the song ends and there’s a knock at your door. 

Heat rushes up the bridge of your nose as you wobble towards the front door, head still slightly lightheaded from the mixture of emotions. You quickly fix your hair, straightening your hoodie and your toes curl from the nervousness. The moment you twist the doorknob, Changbin backs you up against the wall, shutting the door with his feet. He stares you down intensely, making you feel extremely small in comparison. But those eyes of his are filled with nothing but adoration for you and only you. “I’m in love with you, the same way that you meant it back then. I’ve been in love with you for even God doesn’t know how long. I booked a plane ticket and wrote the song as soon as that thought clicked in me. You’re all that I need. I want you to be my one and only. And I still want you back, so what do you say?” 

Your lips curl upwards softly into a smile. “You’re really outdoing yourself, aren’t you? I confessed to you when I was drunk and not only did you film a video, but you also wrote a song for me?”

“Only for you, Beastie.” Changbin chuckles and pulls you closer, sealing the gap between your lips. He’s done it, he did what he’s been wanting to for his entire life : to know what being in love actually feels like. His kiss isn’t even somewhere near as those movie stars’ that you both used to make fun of every weekend. It’s one that steeped into a passion that flickers at the very pit of your stomach, one that makes you feel like home, like he’s your safe place. Changbin’s said everything that he wanted but he kisses you as a silent promise that he will do stupid things just to be with you, to have you right by his side for the rest of his life. 

He’s the first to pull away, resting his forehead against yours as you both exchange shallow breaths. Smiling at you, Changbin can’t help himself but peppers small kisses all over your face from your forehead to the tip of your nose. 

Life likes to toss you around and fuck you up sometimes but somehow, magically it always puts everything back in its place. The amount of tears that you’ve shed feels like payment for what you’re holding in your arms right now but there’s nothing that you won’t do to be here, in his embrace. Technically, Changbin didn’t have to say those three words back and he only did because he could, not because he needed to. 

Even if he’s five thousand miles away, no one else is closer to your heart than he is. He loves you with all of the madness in his soul.

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Love, Maybe? {43}

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Heavy Angst

Word Count: 2K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. 

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

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Chapter 41:  Life Goes On

-Chris-

 That was the end of it. What do you do when the woman you married for fun turns out to be the woman of your dreams, the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with decides she doesn’t want to spend her life with you because of something you’d done? How do you move on and not be completely destroyed when you saw her? How do you be around her and still be the good guy? After five days out of town back in Boston, he still hadn’t figured it out.

 That line they use and say space gives your perspective and helps heal wounds was a crock of shit. He was more than a thousand miles away from you but still, he was hurting. Every day seemed to intensify the pain he felt. He thought of you all day, dreamt of you, and in between that he tried to pretend he was fine. Everyone around him knew he wasn’t fine. They all knew but no one spoke a word about it. He was grateful for it.

 His mood was shit, his behavior was shit and his work ethic was also shit. He didn’t give a shit about anything no matter how he tried. He tried over time to not be angry with you, not resent you or even hate you and for the most part, it was working. He didn’t hate you, he couldn’t he realized that months ago. That’s what made it so hard. It would have been easier on him to hate you; it would probably have helped with the pain he felt but he couldn’t bring himself to it.

 So, he had to figure out a way to be neutral around you. He had to figure out a way to accept his reality, a reality that didn’t include you in his life in the capacity he wanted. He had to come to terms that the only role that mattered right now was father. By the time he accepted that he devised a plan to focus on that, focus on Ella. He worked to mentally and emotionally be prepared to be the best father he could, the father Ella deserved.

MSG: I’d like to spend some time with Ella, if possible.

 A few minutes passed with no response. With every second his angst grew.

 MSG Vixen: Sure. Tell me when and I’ll make it happen.

MSG: I should be back in town tomorrow. So, maybe I can spend lunch with her?

MSG Vixen: Yeah sounds good. I’ll have Nexus prepared. Text her when you’re ready.

 He should have known you would hand it off to Nexus. You were avoiding him just as much as he was avoiding you.

 MSG: Perfect.

 He had no idea how he’d get through eighteen years of this, better yet, the rest of his life.

 -Vixen-

If you fell apart over a few text messages how were you going to keep it together face to face? In the span of a week, you’d barely been able to keep it together. You focused on work and finishing the smaller details for the restaurant. Smaller details such as promo, publicity, interviews the things you hated. The paps were still running wild with the news of your and Chris’ situation. They hadn’t calmed down or slowed down with the narratives they spun.

 One day the plausible theory was you were a gold digger who saw an opportunity, planned on it and pounced. They suspected you were the mechanics behind the motion to marry and even trapped him by purposely getting pregnant. Then the next day the hypothesis was the two of you were head over heels in love and got swept up in the moment and kept your marriage secret because Chris was ashamed of you because you were a nobody, and so far beneath him. In the span of a week, you’d heard so many possible narratives it was insane.

 When you nor Chris made an effort to make a statement to confirm, deny or acknowledge the state of things then the viciousness began. They tried to paint you as the one who didn’t belong and would hurt him then when they brought up your race it drove you crazy. They wondered how in the world you got together said there was no indication Chris liked women like you. The fixation on your race was incredible, it shocked you, but it shouldn’t have. Chris was vocal with shutting down race talks and even went off a few times on some paps who just wouldn’t show any respect. It was a kind gesture one part of you appreciated but the other part hated feeling like you needed rescuing. You didn’t.

 The more promo you did the more paps followed you. It was a tough adjustment, it still seemed highly invasive and creeped you out when you saw cars following you for a picture, or camped outside the restaurant or even when they found you doing normal things. It had gotten to the point where Kassius found it necessary to higher security for you no matter how much you protested. It was a rude awakening and another reason for you to hurry up and get the hell out of town. You were desperate for your real world, your normal life.

 MSG Nexus: I’m here at his house. Do you want me to just leave them?

 “You have to trust him with her at some point, right?”

 You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

 MSG: You can leave them if you want. I have to trust him with her at some point.

MSG Nexus: Wow, okay. I’ll let you know.

You continued your work while keeping one eye on your phone. Ten minutes passed, then a message came in.

 MSG Nexus: He asked me to stay. So we’re here at his house, having lunch. Ttyl.

  -Chris-

God, she looked even bigger. It had been weeks since he saw her. He knew he missed her but didn’t fathom how much. The minute she saw him she wriggled free from Nexus’ arms into his. It felt good. From then she chattered and chattered never slowing or letting him get a word in. Since meeting her he’d gotten pretty good at understanding what she meant. For nearly forty minutes she didn’t want to be put down, she just wanted him to hold her and it was just fine by him. He could hold her the rest of his life and it wouldn’t be enough.

 Across the way he saw Nexus scrolling through her phone occasionally while watching him. She barely spoke three words to him; he knew she was holding in quite a lot. He deserved her silent treatment; he didn’t debate it. He also didn’t know what to say to her, so he said nothing. He was tired, plain and simple.

 They ate together and he watched as Ella acted silly. She was showing her sense of humor and he loved it. She was as silly and goofy as him. You were right she was a tiny replica of him. It was interesting looking at a walking, talking, breathing version of yourself, a smaller one. It filled him with pride that he could have had a part in creating her. Out of everything he’d ever done, this—she was the only good and right thing.

 “I can’t stand the tension anymore.”

 “What tension?” Nexus looked innocent and clueless.

 “You are just like her, able to pretend and fake things that others cannot,” he informed.

 “She is the master; I am but the apprentice.” He smirked and nodded.

 “I’ll take that. I’ve always liked you Nexus. There is something about you that comes off as down to earth, kind, someone that is--.”

 “Easily lied to?” He nodded then rubbed the back of his neck. She was right.

 “I deserve that. I’m sorry.”

 Nexus took a deep breath and released it. “You don’t. You didn’t fuck up my life. You just fucked up hers.”

 “I did and I—regret it more than you’ll ever know. There is nothing I can say that’ll make it okay.”

 “How do you plan on making it okay?”

 He studied her, it was clear she either didn’t know what had happened in the last week or she didn’t think it mattered.

 “There is no making it right, I’ve accepted that. Look, I don’t want to rehash things. To be honest I am tired of the back and forth of this. It’s been one hell of a couple weeks. I can’t keep doing this. It’s hard, tiring, painful.”

 He didn’t realize he was babbling until he noticed Nexus was staring at him. She looked as if she were studying him trying to understand the inner workings of his mind.

 “Thank you for bringing Ella by. I really missed her.”

 “No problem. I understand. That kid of yours is easy to miss,” Nexus responded.

 He stared at Ella as she played in the playroom he’d had designed. She looked like she loved it. How could she not? He’d put everything imaginable in there, it was a kid’s dream.

 “She is.”

 “Can I give you one word of advice on Vixen?”

 He sighed but didn’t answer for a few moments. He then nodded.

 “Never let her decide where you go. If you do that you won’t go anywhere. Her instinct is not geared toward connection, she loves her freedom, and any threat to it is met like a hostile invasion. She feels a lot more than she lets on.”

 He scoffed and shook his head. He’d always thought there was way more going on inside you than you let on. He’d tried to figure you out, but you were always wearing a mask even when you weren’t.

 “Well, she’ll have her freedom in no time. The divorce will be final in three months give or take.”

 He stood and went over to Ella, reminding himself that she was his priority, his most important role.

 After saying goodbye to Ella that evening he made a visit to his lawyers.

“It’s a good thing you came by Chris, I wanted to go over a few things. Have you and Vixen spoke about what you intend to do?”

 “Uh, a little bit. I’m not here to talk about that though. I wanted to come by and just state some things. Sherman, I know you understand me as a person and know what I value and what I stand for. Max, you’re new to this team and I don’t hold anything against you, I just need you to grasp who I am as a person. Until then I want Sherman to take point with all of my legal matters.”

 Max looked floored. “Even with what he did to get you in this predicament?”

 “Yes. I trust him. So, if you don’t like it then there’s the door.” Max didn’t speak, he just sat and listened.

 “Good. So to begin no matter where this leads, I want you both to know that I don’t want anything from her. Nothing at all. Whatever she had three years ago is hers, and everything she earned and accomplished since is solely hers.”

 “Okay, that’s admirable. What about when it comes to you?”

 “If she wants half give it to her. If it comes up and she wants to go after anything I own split it in the middle. I want this to be easy.”

 “What!” Max was on his feet. “Chris, that’s insane. You’re worth millions. You’re really going to sacrifice half of that to some woman you married on a whim?”

 “Yes.” It was a plain answer, one that was so simple it ended the discussion.

 “I’ll handle it, Chris,” Sherman informed.

 “Good. Also, regarding Ella, our daughter, I don’t want to go after custody, not even joint. Right now, there’ll be a lot for her to get used to and I don’t want to cause more damage than necessary. We’ll take it slow. I just want to be able to see her for a few hours when I’m able to in San Francisco. I just want access, Sherman.”

 Max didn’t look like he approved but he sat silently.

 “Got it, Chris. I’ll relay it to her council.”

 “Thanks. You know how to reach me.” He stood and walked out the door. He really didn’t care anymore about everything he had before. He was seeing the world a whole lot differently now.

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[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Sixty-Eight

A/N: Okay, firstly I cannot apologize enough for the delay. I'm sorry for not posting when I planned on, I have no idea how I feel about this chapter, it's all over the place and I've honestly thought of erasing it and starting back over but that'd take even longer and I don't want to make you guys wait any more. I'm sorry for falling through on my assurance I'd post by Friday.

Timeline in case anyone is wondering, this chapter starts around the 18th of September (flashback is last couple days in July) and ends at the end of September.

I hope you guys like it, perfectly understandable if y'all don't and I will be trying harder next time. Thank you🖤

P.S.--I haven't forgotten about the "D" Viv gets tattooed on her, it's being mentioned in the next chapter.

Words: 4.4K

Warning(s): Explicit language, violence, mentions of drug abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, insensitive implication of suicide.

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I'm taking another bite of eggs, before an issue of Playboy is plopped down in front of me, into my food. 

I was expecting the cover to hit stands sooner, rather than later. We went back on tour the first of September, and the issue wasn't out until September 16, a couple days after getting back on tour from a separate break that took place a week and a half after our first break at the end of July did.

I'm on the cover, naked, and I hesitantly run my eyes up Doc's body to his eyes, giving an uneasy smile, knowing I'm in trouble. 

I swallow my food and he glares at me. 

Within ten minutes, he's got all of us back into another meeting. 

"Playboy?!" He's pacing the floor, throwing his hands up. "Y-You…" he trails off, the vein popping out on his forehead. 

I look around and notice everybody--Ross, Fred, Tommy, Vince, Mick, Rich--has got a copy of it, flipping through, including Nikki, and I feel my face heat up, slowly sliding down in my seat. 

"...Playboy!" Doc gets out again, before he starts laughing. 

"Was a staff meeting really necessary for this?" I ask him. 

"I mean, it could be worse." Fred tries to take up for me as my question is ignored. 

"Yeah, she could've went behind our backs and shot a porno." Vince adds, glancing at me. "...or did you do that, too?" 

Apparently I don't deny that quick enough because Doc is looking at me with an even more severe look. 

"Did you?!" He asks. 

"No?!" I argue, starting to get pissed. "I posed for Playboy, what's the big deal?" 

Doc starts laughing again. 

"What's the big deal? What's the big deal? What's the bi--what's the big deal?!" He pulls at his hair. "I am about to have a heart attack. I am about to have a heart attack. You--" he lets out a loud yell of frustration and we all look at each other. "--Are you trying to kill me, Viv?! 'Cause I feel like you are!"

"From a photography perspective, they're quite beautiful photos." Ross says positively.

"Yes, I for one want to express my gratitude and admiration for Saint Viv's--well, Dirty Stripper Viv's--contribution to the livelihood of many a jerking offs." Vince states. "Also would like to note," he looks at a particular picture of me before adding, "I've only imagined her doing this position but now that it's here on paper, I'd like her to demonstrate--slowly, in detail--exactly how she twisted hersel--"

"--Dude, shut up!" Tommy snaps, his hands over his eyes, his head back, and Vince grins at me, making me roll my eyes. 

It kind of scares me how quiet Nikki is as he calmly thumbs through his. 

"Okay." Doc takes a deep breath. "When did this happen?" He asks me.

"I got an offer in the mail, and took them up on it, and when we were in Chicago I went by their studio." I explain. "I still don't know what the big deal is. I thought it was the idea for rockstars and Playboy models to be together." 

Doc looks at me with flared nostrils before flipping through his magazine.

"Whose is this?" He asks, turning the magazine around to show me, his finger on Duff's bass. 

I just look at him, not knowing what to say. 

"I know what every bass of Nikki's looks like and it's got too many personalized ticks on it for it to be a random prop they tossed at you." He adds. 

The room is quiet for a moment.

"It's Duff's." Nikki says and Doc raises his brows. 

"The fuck is that?" He questions me. 

"Guns N' Roses bassist." Nikki informs him, his tone neutral.

I'm afraid to look at him, knowing it's gonna break my heart. 

"The band that you've been in my ear about bringing on the tour?"

Nikki let's out a confirming sigh and Doc looks at me. 

"So this kid's gonna bring this bass to play on tour, and everybody's gonna recognize it when they flip through your little stunt here," he waves the magazine, "and it's all gonna come together and they're gonna realize a few days after Vanity allegedly dropped a bombshell about her and Nikki supposedly having an affair--which is said to be bullshit--his wife comes out humping another man's fuckin' bass." He tells me and I roll my eyes. "You roll your eyes all you want. Vanity fucking fried all of us, and then you decided to toss us into the fucking fire. Not that I expect anything different from a goddamn Sixx at this point. You both know how to make shit worse than it already is." 

"I highly doubt they'll notice, Doc." Tommy cuts in again. 

"You stay out of this." Doc snaps at him. 

Another beat of silence goes by.

"Nikki? Your thoughts? You're her fucking husband. You helped kickstart this snowball of shit that just keeps getting bigger and bigger. What's your fucking opinion on her doing this? Am I gonna have to worry about you bending another girl over on stage and going to town in retaliation or what?" Doc sarcastically throws out there. "I mean nothing will fucking surprise my anymore. I just need to know what I need to prepare to clean up next." 

My heart pounds as I look at Nikki, liner smudged, tired eyes, glancing at me as he lets out a defeated sigh. 

"She's a grown woman, Doc." He surprisingly says and I widen my eyes in shock, as everyone else looks worried that Nikki's not screaming at me for it right now. 

Not yet, at least.

"That's it?" Doc asks him, raising his brows. "She didn't say a word about it, didn't give a warning, a heads up, nothing, and she comes out like this and you have absolutely nothing to fucking say?" 

Nikki just shrugs. 

"She just does whatever the hell she wants to do. Doesn't matter how I'd feel before, why does it matter what I feel like, now? Like I said, she's grown. Whatever she wants to do, she can do." He finishes, standing up to leave. 

"Nikki, are you fucking me right now?!" Doc complains as Nikki heads to the door. "You flip your shit over tiny stuff but your own wife does this without even telling you about it and you just brush it off?!"

"Just because she calls me 'daddy' doesn't mean I can act like her fucking father, Doc." Nikki sternly says and my face heats up. "We're not even together so why the fuck would I care what she does or who she does it with?" 

His bark was "I don't give a fuck" and "she can do whatever she wants", but a couple months later his bite was "you aren't worth a fucking thing which is why you had to get naked in a magazine to get validation in the first place" then proceeded to bare his teeth down further into my heart by adding, "just another pussy to unload in and get on to the next attention-humping slut." 

The next thing I knew, Duff was knocking him to the ground and the two of them started ripping into each other like dogs.

Once the meeting is over, after another hour of going back and forth, feeling like I was going to vomit from impending guilt, I'm getting back to my room and making a beeline for the toilet. 

I take a deep breath once I'm done, wiping the few tears from my cheeks. 

I don't feel bad for posing…the entire meeting it took everything not to confess that me posing naked with Duff's bass should be the least of their worries, compared to what other activities  I've gotten up to with him the last time the band had a couple days off and we went back to L.A. 

The sound of my room phone ringing pulls me out of my head

“Hello?” I answer.

“H-Hey.” I hear Tansy’s voice on the other end and I perk up.

“Hey, Tans, how’re you feeling?” I ask her, nervously.

“Good, um…” She lets out a soft sigh. “...I relapsed.”

I close my eyes for a moment, exactly like I did last week, and the week before, and the week before, and so on.

After Sparkie did his damage, Tansy promised to swear the bastard off. But within two weeks of her incident, she was back with him, only because her babysitters--Slash and Steven--left her unattended and she ran off to find him.

They’d find her, threaten Sparkler, bring her back home and the second they turned around long enough, she was gone again. 

Nikki had ordered them that she wasn't supposed to be around Sparkie because he had "accidentally" taken it too far while they were messing around…

Skylar squeals as tickle at her stomach, shampoo sticking her blonde hair straight up while Sharise runs a wash cloth over Sky's back.

When she's done, she's wringing the water out of it. 

"Sky, we gotta wash the shampoo out of your hair." I tell her.

"Nuh." She protests, shaking her head. 

"Skylar, we gotta get the shampoo out so we can get conditioner in your hair and get the tangles out."

"Nuh." She states, looking at us like we're crazy. 

"Don't be a diva like daddy." Sharise tell her, raising her brows. 

"Da-da?" 

"Da-da's golfing." She replies.

Skylar looks between us. 

"Nuh." She argues. "Beebee." She points at me. 

Sharise looks at me and hands me the little plastic cup she uses to rinse Sky's hair. 

"I'm gonna grab a towel from the couch." Sharise tells me. "Let Veevee rinse your hair." 

Skylar's cooperative, letting me get the shampoo from her hair and letting me put conditioner in and rinsing it out. 

When we're done, Sharise is picking Skylar up from the bath and wrapping her in her towel. 

The phone starts ringing and I dry hands off and stand up. 

"I'll get it." I assure Sharise.

"Alright, it could be Vince. He said he'd call before he headed home."

"Okay."

I go to the living room and pick the phone up.

"Hello?"

"I'm coming by to pick you up." It's Nikki, and I furrow my brows and look at the time. 

"What're you doing up before two o'clock?" 

"I got a call from a hospital in Malibu. Tansy's in surgery right now."

My blood runs cold and I can't get my thoughts together. 

"Just be ready when I get there." He adds. "I'm leaving the house, now."

"O-Okay." 

He hangs up and I head to Skylar's room where Sharise is helping her pick out some clothes. 

"That was Nikki." I inform her and she looks at me. "Tansy's at the hospital in the middle of a surgery."

"Oh my God, is she okay?" 

"I don't know."

"Is she having more heart problems or--"

"--I have no idea, Sharise. Nikki didn't explain."

Despite her body being pumped full of varying drugs, none of them caused her to be sent to the ER. Something else entirely, did though.

"She's more susceptible to complications during surgery due to her previous heart problems and her drug use. She did decide to sign a DNR--"

"--I'm sorry, what's been signed?" Nikki raises his brows at the nurse. 

"A do-not resuscitate order. Meaning if she were to code, we can not perform cardiopulmonary resuscitation." 

"So you just fucking let her die?!" 

"Nikki, they had to explain to her what it meant, and she still agreed--" I'm cut short.

“--You know how much fucking heroin she fucking shoots on a daily basis?! I'm not even sure she could fucking see to sign her God damn in the first place, let alone comprehend you motherfuckers selling her death!" Nikki barks and the nurse sighs.

“Nikki, she’ll be fine.” I try to tell him.

"Fuck that!" He screams, fear in his eyes.

"Nikki, that's only if something goes wrong, alright? So far everything is going okay." I try to reassure him, my eyes drifting to her nurse. "Right?"

The surgery itself was going smoothly. One thing Tansy didn't tell us, however, was one of her kidneys was shot from her drug and alcohol abuse, and she asked her doctor to go ahead and take the thing out.

"She's in good hands." Is all the nurse says, before adding, "she should be out in a couple more hours." 

She walks away and Nikki shakes his head and lets out a heavy breath. 

"It'll be okay." I say to him.

“You gonna fucking pray about it or something?” He sneers at me.

“Yes.”

“Right, imaginary friends solve all of the world’s problems.”

“There’s nothing wrong with me doing something that brings me some peace.” I argue.

“You’ve been praying for me for the past six years. Feel any fucking peace, yet?” He snaps.

Believe it or not, no. I hadn’t felt any fucking peace.

It doesn’t take Tansy much longer to get out of surgery, and Nikki and I are horrified when her doctor explains what exactly he was repairing, being that the nurse wouldn’t tell us.

“Like...a shooter sized bottle--”

“--Pint.” He says to us and Nikki and I look at eachother.

“They tried to fit a pint sized bottle of Jack into her…?” I trail off.

“Well, they made it fit, it just didn’t stay intact.” He replies.

“The bottle of her vagina?” I question.

“I had to stitch up her vaginal wall extensively, and made sure to remove every piece of glass, including micrograins. Her left fallopian tube would have been compromised if the piece of glass that completely punctured through her vaginal wall, would have moved 0.004mm, which is about the thickness of a single strand of hair.” He states. “She’s very lucky her uterus or ovaries weren’t compromised. That wouldn’t have been as easy of a fix.”

“A--A bottle?” I’m stll stuck on them fitting a fucking bottle into her, my face twisted in horror as my stomach drops and my skin crawls.

He holds up a small container and rattles it around, the sound of glass swishing around making me cringe.

“Jesus fucking christ.” Nikki lets out.

“I’m going to tell her when she wakes, but please reiterate after me, that the next time she and her partner wish to add some heat to their sex life, maybe try not to be so blatantly reckless.” He suggests and Nikki and I nod, still speechless.

In a couple more hours, Nikki and I’s ears perk when she groans a little, our eyes shifting to look at her in her hospital bed.

Her bright blue eyes blink open, her brows furrowed in confusion, and it seems everything slowly falls into place for her.

“Tans?” Nikki says and she looks straight at him, just blinking.

“Where’s Sparkie?” She asks and we look at each other.

“We haven’t seen him.” I explain.

“Oh.” She quietly mumbles, closing her eyes again for a moment.

“Tansy, what the hell happened?” Nikki starts, a sharp tone in his voice.

She looks at me, carefully, before speaking.

“We were just trying to spice things up.” She says softly.

“With a fucking Jack Daniel’s bottle that clearly wouldn’t naturally fit inside of you?” He lets out.

She doesn’t say a word back, I almost think she doesn’t hear him, until she says:

“I’m not fighting right now.”

“Let’s just let her rest, okay?” I suggest. “She’s exhausted and she doesn’t need to be stressed out right now.”

Nikki sighs, but keeps his mouth shut.

After a few more minutes, I’m wanting a snack.

“You have any cash?”

He looks at me and I give him my best smile, making him exhale softly, digging in his back pocket for his wallet.

“How much?” He asks, clearing his throat.

“Like, a couple bucks.” I shrug and he hands it to me. “Thank you.”

I go to the vending machines past the waiting area, to see Sparkie sitting by the window, eating his food, and I glare at him as I walk by.

He doesn’t see me, unfortunately, and I just keep going to the Pepsi Cola machine calling my name.

I want to go curse him out, but Tansy doesn’t need the stress, and being they were both high as a kite, I can’t solely put the blame on him and only him.

She should have just left him years ago. All he’s been is trouble that she doesn’t need.

I get my Pepsi and a pack of M&Ms, walking around a little to stretch my legs since I’ve been sitting for hours.

I let out a heavy breath when I remember I’m nearly out of Nardil, being I flushed a majority of my bottle down the toilet in an angry effort.

I’ll make sure to call in some more before we leave for the next leg of the tour.

As I start on my way back to the room, I’m interrupted by the sight of Nikki and Sparkie standing face to face in the waiting room, and I drop my Pepsi and food when Nikki slams Sparkie’s head into the wall without a single word beforehand.

“Sir!” The receptionist yells, standing up as I go to them as fast as I can to get Nikki off of him as he grabs his shirt and punches the shitfire out of Sparkie, one of his teeth crumbling to the floor.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you!” He promises as he punches him two more times, not taking a breath in between with no signs of stopping his assault until Sparkie’s brain is bursting from his skull, but I’m managing to get Nikki off of him, making him drop Sparkie to the floor, his nose and mouth busted up as security comes in.

We were escorted out, and when we got home I called Steven and informed him what happened to Tansy, leaving out what actually happened because I didn’t need anyone else possibly being sued for trying to kill Sparkie, and he went to keep an eye on her.

“Anyone else you want to beat the shit out of while we’re home?” I snap as we get to the car.   “First Vanity, now Sparkie--”

"--What, you wanna go back in there and coddle him the way you did Vanity?" He hisses and I roll my jaw. 

"You know exactly why I 'coddled' her."

"Oh, right, because men aren't suppose to hit women so I'm an evil bastard for knocking the shit out of her even though she was punching and hitting at me."

"I've punched and hit at you and you've never--"

"--She came into our house, attacked me, and punched you, too, Vivian! I had a reason to bust her face up a little bit!"

"I can handle shit myself, Nikki, there was no need for you to hit her like that!" 

"It's called 'equal rights'! All you women want is to be seen equally and shit! You fucking punch me like you're a man, I'm gonna fucking punch you back, like you're a fucking man! Don't hit me like you've got bigger balls than I do and then scream and cry and whine and plead 'frail, innocent, victimized, dainty, woman' when you get treated equally!" 

"I don't do that!" 

"No, but you sure as hell were all about feeding the cracked out beast when she fucking did!" 

"That's it. I'm walking home." 

"Walking home? We're forty minutes away from L.A., Viv." 

"I'll hitch a ride! I'd rather be in a car with a sketchy stranger than be trapped with you for the next hour!"

"You've been trapped with me the past four years!" He barks. 

"Not for much longer, thank God!" I bite out and his face slowly falls. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Pretty sure going our separate ways is just inevitable for us at this point, Viv, so it's fine." He brushes it off and my heart hurts at the thought. "And I'm sorry for going after Sparkie in public. But I'm not apologizing for defending Tansy. I'm not ever gonna be sorry for defending any of my friends."

“What happened, Nikki?” I ask him. “What the hell made you go after him like that? You were fine when I left.”

He lets out a breath, his nostrils flaring, his knuckles gripping tightly to the wheel as he closes his eyes and forces himself to calm down, before saying:

“Nothing. I just really thought about it and it got to me.”

I didn’t find out what happened until Tansy told me months down the road, and nobody else knows that’s actually what happened.

If Stevie and Slash knew what really occurred to put Tansy in that shape to begin with, they would’ve killed Sparkie the second Tansy first went back and "relapsed" on him.

"Tansy, he hurt you." I remind her. "And I know it was an accident but it doesn't matter. He could've seriously messed you up more than he did."

"I know, but I love him, Viv." She argues. 

"Tansy--"

"--Nikki shot you. And you're still with him." 

"Because Nikki was high out of his mind and didn't realize he actually was shooting at me. He thought I was someone after him." 

"Sparkie was fucked up and didn't know he was hurting me."

"Who the hell shoves a pint-sized glass bottle up their cunt to begin with, Tansy?" I raise my voice, getting aggravated with her.

"I'm gonna go." She tells me, calmly, after a moment of being quiet. "And I saw your Playboy issue--Steven got it. You look very beautiful." She genuinely says and I let out a defeated breath.

"Thanks."

"I'll talk to you later, Viv, okay?"

"Got it."

"I love you, bye."

"I love you, too, bye-bye." 

I hang up and fall back on the bed, groaning loudly in frustration. 

"How the hell can someone be as passively suicidal as she is?" I let out.

I'd find out soon enough.

In the last ten days of September, "Girls, Girls, Girls" is certified double-platinum, a $5000 lawsuit is filed against the band after a mother had apparently suffered "severe hearing dysfunction and mental anguish" at a recent concert. 

I wish I could sew these bastards for hearing dysfunction and mental anguish because God himself sure as shit knows I've had my fair share of it due to them, too.

By the end of the month, Nikki has Doc convinced to bring Guns N Roses on tour for the south leg, starting at the end of October…and I don't know how to feel about it. 

"Are you not excited about it?" Fred asks me after Doc leaves his hotel room after coming in to tell me the news. "Thought they were your buddies." He adds and I look at him from where I'm eating a fry from the fast food bag that he'd gone and got for us.

"They are." I confirm, nodding. "I'm excited." 

"...You just acted like Doc told you we were going to a funeral." He chuckles, sipping his drink and I lick my lips a little. 

"No, it's great, I'm just a little stressed out." I shrug. "But I'm fine." 

"Viv, what's going on?" He's not buying it and Iet out a soft breath, nervously picking the skin from the instead of my cheek with my teeth. 

"There's just a slight complication." I tell him and he raises his brows. 

"I'm all ears." He offers and I exhale, shaking my head a little, before opting for a way to confess my sins to him without him knowing I'm the one that needs forgiveness. 

"Well, you know how Sparkie and Tansy have been together for a long time?"

"Yeah." He nods. 

"She's really good friends with Axl, too, and her and Sparkie have been having some problems and might even break up so Tansy's been anxious and panicking a little, and, well…" I think for a moment. "...over this past break, Tansy slept with Axl." I say and his brows raise. "Who's the singer for Guns, and they've kinda been having a weird relationship situation thing happening ever since, but she's still with Sparkie, and being that she and Sparkie are along for the tour, Axl's gonna be around and she doesn't want Sparkie to find out what's been happening." 

"Why won't Tansy just break things off with Sparkie?"

"She doesn't want to hurt him."

"He's a piece of shit to her, are you kidding me? I'd tell that motherfucker he could go blow his fucking brains out over it." He scoffs, chewing his burger and I feel my heart sink, apparently he reads the look on my face. "Sorry, I forget women are wired a different way than guys are." He apologizes, swallowing his food before saying:

"Does Axl make her happier, you think?" 

"Sparkie's just exhausting her at this point. I think she really loves him, she's just tired of fighting and she hasn't had any peace in years, you know? She's just really tired. But when she's with Axl, she feels like everything isn't falling apart. She's at peace." 

"I think she's gotta tell Sparkie they just aren't working anymore. And be honest about how she feels instead of trying to brush over it and find ways to escape from it. I've seen her do some questionable shit, and I know it's because she's in pain and just doesn't want to deal with what's hurting her. I think this fling she's got with this dude is another way of crying for a way out, but she feels like she's too trapped to actually leave Sparkie." He explains. 

I nod slowly, tearing up a little. 

"I'm just worried about it, is all."

"Don't be." He shakes his head. "Just tell her what I just told you, and maybe she'll be done with Sparkie before Guns comes on a month from now." 

I take a deep breath and close my eyes for a moment.

"I doubt it." I say so quietly he doesn't even hear it.

I felt like I'd gotten a little bit of my guilt off my chest--aside from the fact that I was leaving out a minor detail:

"Sparkie" = Nikki, "Tansy" = Vivian, and, "Axl" = Duff.

[lorei-writes]

Masamune x Polish!MC

Thanks a lot to @datenoriko​ for suggesting this and for @nad-zeta​ for writing hers (VERY INSPIRING, SERIOUSLY, GO CHECK THOSE OUT) headcanons :D Here’s my version. I wrote for Polish MC in particular, because I didn’t want to be disrespectful and there’s a lot of historical nuance that I could butcher otherwise.

[Note from future Lorei: This is honestly very stupid and I cannot believe I didn’t write it when I was 15, geez.]

Content Warnings: profanities, kidnapping, pain, injuries

Background information & notes:

Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth was partitioned by Habsburg Austria, Kingdom of Prussia and Russian Empire. As the result of annexations, the country disappeared from the world maps for 123 years. I will not go into detail about how the situation of Polish people was different in each of the parts, since that’s besides the point, but well - keep in mind that it did differ greatly. One can argue that the marks of it are still visible today, both in infrastructure, architecture and language. 

I was born in the South-Eastern region of Poland and as such, that’s where I’d like my MC to be brought up. 

MC is in no way representative of how each and every woman from Poland is. I tried to write her based on the women of my family, my friends, classmates, basically - the people I’ve seen and spent my time with. 

I will not include anything religion-related, although it is a thing that’s present in lives of everybody (even atheists) here (to be more precise, Catholicism). Why? Because it is a very controversial topic, one of huge complexity.

... There will be profanities, because I love my Polish swearwords - and CURSE YOU ENGLISH. WHEN I YELL THE CURSE I WANT TO SOUND LIKE A FREAKING FERAL ANIMAL

Broken English in italics = broken Japanese.

There will be a dictionary at the end, so don’t worry. 

Masamune

Upon meeting her, he did not understand anything she said - well, none of them did. However, she did rescue lord Nobunaga - a funnily dressed foreigner that seemingly didn’t speak Japanese couldn’t be that bad, could she?

Yet she still was thrown into the dungeon. In his mind, that was the perfect opportunity to investigate on his own. 

Taking advantage of the opportunity, Masamune sneaked into her cell. Soon, his blade was on her throat.  “ Who are...?” he started, but was instantly cut off by her yelling: “ Czy was tu wszystkich kurwa do reszty pojebało?!” He stood there, staring at her. Seeing his confusion, she pointed at him and then tapped on her temple a couple of times, an unimpressed look on her face. 

Was she suggesting that he was insane? Hah, that certainly was some lass. He laughed loudly and gestured for her to follow him.

Well, it certainly took some explaining, but in the end, she got a job as one of the maids. After all, you hardly need to understand language to sweep the floors and do the cleaning. 

However, she... Didn’t exactly fit in. Not just because of her weird mother tongue - she was taller than most women and not exactly petite. Appearance wise, she resembled the Portuguese missionaries, but that wasn’t exactly this either. 

Masamune came around to “bother” her at times. To his surprise, she started to picking up the basic words by herself. Sometimes, she’d point an object, say something (presumably the name of it in her language) and wait for him to do so as well.

 One day, she did just that while cleaning the floor of a veranda.  “ Chrząszcz.” It took a second to register. Was that really a word? “ Chrząszcz,” she repeated, staring at him. Right, he had to reply, otherwise she’d never stop. “ A beetle.” 

Later that day, he tried to pronounce the word. He couldn’t do it. Actually, he started thinking that she was making it all up. 

That, however, changed once he heard her sing. Unaware of his presence, she continued working, the song filling the air: “Gdy swe oczy otworzyłem Wielki żal ogarnął mnie Po policzkach łzy spłynęły Zrozumiałem wtedy, że Czarny chleb i czarna kawa Opętani samotnością Myślą swą szukają szczęścia Które zwie się wolnością”

To his delight, she started speaking broken Japanese within a couple of months of her stay at Azuchi. Finally, he could satiate his curiosity - or at least he planned to. 

She went out to do the shopping in the afternoon, but didn’t return after the dusk. Thinking something bad must have happened to her, Nobunaga issued a search. Masamune volunteered to lead it. 

She woke up with a start, her head throbbing. She looked around - where was she? It seemed to be a tiny hut of sorts. She got up, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was happening outside through the crack in the door. A man was guarding it. Did she hear a river? Whinny of horses? She had to escape - she search for cracks in the walls, until she found one. She recognized that armour. They were looking for her! She had to make some noise! 

She yanked at the door, but it didn’t want to give out. She banged at it with her fists, yelling: “ Tutaj! Ratunku!”

The kidnapper didn’t understand the weird language, so he didn’t react at first. However, once the heard the approaching horses, he decided he had to silence her. He got inside the hut and gripped her by the wrists, telling her to shut up.

To his surprise, she struggled against him, breaking free of his hold on her.

He pinned her arms to the wall of the hut, threatening to hurt her if she even squeaked.  “ A weźże ty mnie kurwa w nos pocałuj!” she yelled, before headbutting him. 

Surprised, the man didn’t react instantly. Taking advantage of the opportunity, she kicked him hard.

It didn’t exactly work, though. Infuriated, the man wanted to punch her - yet, he didn’t notice the rescue that had just arrived. Masamune stopped his fist in the air. 

Masamune didn’t see her in the couple of the following days, as they all worked to find out who was the person behind her kidnapping - and why was she even considered a target in the first place. 

When he finally met her, he was stunned. Her entire forearms were covered in bruises in the shade of deep purple, almost black. He lifted her hands up, saying: “ I’ll check you up for wounds. Wounds. Check. You.” To his surprise, she shook her head and smiled brightly. “ Boli, znaczy że żyje. Hurt mean alive.”

It dawned on him then - he never really saw her smile before. They were complete strangers, but he wanted to know more.

With the language barier in place, it wasn’t exactly an easy task. Granted, she could understand simple sentences - yet, it wasn’t enough. Masamune was up to the challenge and so, he asked her to teach him her language. 

Given the grammatical cases that influenced form of both nouns, adjectives and numerals, he soon started regretting his choice. The nouns had gender? Two future tenses? And what was up with all those ch-h, rz-ż, u-ó pairs that sounded exactly the same, but somehow weren’t interchangeable? Not to mention how some words seemed to consists exclusively of consonants. Rybołówstwo? -wstwo? 

“ Okay. Your turn.  Na wyścigach wyścigowych wyścigówek wyścigowych wyścigówka wyścigowa wyścignęła wyścigówkę wyścigową numer sześć.” Masamune blinked fast.  “ It was the same word over and over again, right?” “ Nope. Maybe  w Szczebrzeszynie chrząszcz brzmi w trzcinie?”

It seemed she tried to torture him. Though, having her laugh, even if at him, made him feel warm. 

 One day, he was taking a stroll and heard her voice. This time, however, he understood the words she hummed to herself.  “ Raz i dwa, raz i dwa, Dziewczynka Wojenka na imię ma. Trzy i cztery, trzy i cztery, Dziwne ona ma maniery. Pięć i sześć, pięć i sześć, Wcale lodów nie chce jeść. Siedem, osiem, siedem, osiem, Wciąż o kości tylko prosi. “

“Where do you come from, if you sign about war like that?” he asked. “ Can’t tell you. You’ll think I’m mad.” “ Try it either way.” “ You see, future. But I can’t say wars aren’t a thing anymore. Sadly.”

After that, they spoke for a while. Apparently, her grandparents were both in partisan army. She grew up hearing their stories - or much rather, what little was said about the horrors of the war. What surprised him, though, was her request.

“ Will you teach me how to use a sword?” “ A sword? Why?” “ I can’t be helpless. I have to adapt.” “ That’s the spirit,” he laughed. 

She certainly was a curious creature, one with a will to survive. She was amusing... Although sometimes she did find a way to get on his nerves. 

“ I am NOT cute.” “ You are. You have lisp and can’t say “r” like little child that can’t speak good yet.”

Dictionary & Notes:

“ Czy was tu wszystkich kurwa do reszty pojebało?!” - “Are you all fucked in the damn head here?”, although not exactly. The Polish version doesn’t entail anything that could indicate any connection to psychological disorder or madness. Both “kurwa” and “pojebało”(pojebać) are swear words that would be translated to “fuck”. Recently those words lost a bit of their shocking effect, but if you ask me - you still don’t want your mother to hear you saying those. Under any circumstances. Direct translation would be “Are you all fucking fucked up here?”

“Chrząszcz” - a beetle. However, can we appreciate the nasal “ą” sound and the fact that it’s the only vowel in the entire word? Apparently, it’s hard to pronounce for foreigners :D 

“Gdy swe oczy otworzyłem /Wielki żal ogarnął mnie /Po policzkach łzy spłynęły /Zrozumiałem wtedy, że //Czarny chleb i czarna kawa /Opętani samotnością / Myślą swą szukają szczęścia /Które zwie się wolnością”  - lyrics from song, you can listen to it here. “ When I opened my eyes/ a grief overwhelmed me /Tears run down my cheeks/ Then I understood that // Black bread and black coffee / Possessed by loneliness / Keep searching with their thoughts for happiness/ name of which is freedom” (excuse the translation, I wrote it myself). I don’t listen much to Polish music, but this was somewhere around ever since I remember - I think many people would recognize it? Plus, the theme of freedom seems to be rather common one.

“ Tutaj! Ratunku!”  - “Here! Rescue me!”

“ A weźże ty mnie kurwa w nos pocałuj!” - “ Fuck, kiss my nose.”; There’s another version of with, “pocałuj mnie w dupę” (kiss my ass). This one is more polite? Less crude? Either way, it means “I’m fed up with your bullshit.” Note: weźże is an verb derived from “weź” (to take) by adding a particle “że” at the end. Said particle indicated irritation and frustration. Construction weź + do something (weź idź na spacer - go on a walk!) is basically an order/ a request said with some level of irritation. 

“ Boli, znaczy że żyje. “ - “If it hurts, it’s alive.”/ “If you’re hurting, you’re alive.” ; that one isn’t exactly universal, but it was a huge one for me. I always heard it from my grandparents and aunts. 

Rybołówstwo - ... Fishing. When pronounced, it’s “rybołóstwo” - we still have a cluster of consonants here, but it’s easier to deal with. 

“ Na wyścigach wyścigowych wyścigówek wyścigowych wyścigówka wyścigowa wyścignęła wyścigówkę wyścigową numer sześć. “ - “During the racing event the racing car got ahead of the racing car number six.”; tongue-twister If you were wondering,the adjectives are in bold. The crossed out word is the predicate of the sentence (the verb).

  w Szczebrzeszynie chrząszcz brzmi w trzcinie  - in Szczebrzeszyn a beetle can be heard from the reed; tongue-twister. 

“ Raz i dwa, raz i dwa, /Dziewczynka Wojenka na imię ma. /Trzy i cztery, trzy i cztery, /Dziwne ona ma maniery. /Pięć i sześć, pięć i sześć, /Wcale lodów nie chce jeść. /Siedem, osiem, siedem, osiem, /Wciąż o kości tylko prosi. “ - song lyrics you can listen to here. Lao Che is a band that I think plenty of younger people interested in rock music will know. “One and two, one and two / The girls is named little war / Three and four, three and four / Strange are her manners / Five and six, five and six / She doesn’t want to eat ice-cream at all / Seven, eight, seven, eight/ She just keeps begging for bones.” ; All the songs from this particular album (Dzieciom - For Children; yes, it’s for adults that used to be children) are stylized to resemble a rhyme for children - at least in the lyrics and at first glance. 

A note: Japanese and Polish “r” are extremely different. Japanese “r” resembles Polish “l” sound a lot - and many children can’t pronounce “r” at first, exchanging it for the “l” sound. In other words, Masamune speaking Polish would have a really hard time due to his slight lisp... And he’d sound like a little child that tries, but fails. :) IT WOULD BE SO CUTE! 

When MC says her grandparents were in partisan army, she means they were part of AK - Armia Krajowa, during WWII. Whether that’s a good or a bad thing, I’ll let you decide for yourself. I don’t want to make this post any longer. 

“ Seeing his confusion, she pointed at him and then tapped on her temple a couple of times, an unimpressed look on her face. “ -  That’s basically how I’d show somebody another Polish saying “A puknij się w głowę” (Tap yourself on the head), which means “are you nuts”. 

O, yeah. I don’t know if you can find the translation of the entire lyrics online, but if you were curious... You know, hit me up. I can translate them.

... I got too excited.  Would you be mad if I wrote another one of those? I kinda want to... 

Tag list: @datenoriko , @nad-zeta , @tsubaki3192 , @choi-jiyu If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)!^^ Also, if you have some preferences (for example: you’d rather not be tagged under some series, etc.), please, tell me.

[joannie95]

Legacy- Part 7

Pairing: Carter! reader x ?????

Summary:  Everyone knows Peggy Carter is a force to be reckoned with, who cold have guessed her granddaughter would hold the same ferocity, if not more.This story follows y/n Carter’s life as she faces the obstacles life pitches her.

Warnings: None

A/N: Its finally time. shes really gonna do it

Peggy watches with amusement as the two girls looked purely terrified. 

“How- w-when…- “Darcy stutters out before giving up “totally busted.”

“you are indeed, totally busted.” Your grandmother replies, but there is no hint of anger in her voice or stance. No sign of disbelief or frustration, no yelling or gritted teeth. That’s when it hits you.

“You wanted me to find the journals.” you breathe out.

 “That’s an odd assumption- “

“oddly right. Those journals held things that would be dangerous in some hands, you’d never just toss them in a box, let alone the top box that wasn’t sealed shut. “You accuse her

A large grin appears on her face “it took you long enough- “

“oh, what the hell.” Darcy mumbles “this entire time you knew- you couldn’t have just handed her the journals Peg !?” She throws her arms up in frustration. 

“To shield and the worlds knowledge, those journals don’t exist. The information within them”

“is extremely dangerous in the wrong hands. I’m aware.”  you stare at her “I need to know the formula for Nitramene.” You bluntly state, 

 your grandmothers’ eyes slightly widen “Nitramene was discontinued after Howard-”

“as far as shield was concerned it was, but I know that didn’t stop my parents or Howard.”

 Darcy watches the staring competition between the two carters, heart racing as you slightly challenged your grandmother 

“Nitramene won’t fit well with your toxin extraction, you can find a simpler way-”

“what about for a super soldier serum process? I think it’d fit pretty well there.”

 “It’s prohibited to - “

“I took it more as a suggestion not to try, but Carters aren’t really known for following the rules, are they Agent Carter?”  You smirk at her knowingly. 

   “You’re definitely a Carter.” She mumbles, running a hand down her face in defeat. “If shield discovers what you’re doing- “

“I’ve already covered all my footprints.  Falsified my blueprints of the chamber to match the toxin project, everything lines up to be hidden perfectly Grandma. All I need is the Nitramene. “ 

 You slowly approach her, gently taking her hand in yours “I’m so close to- “

“creating something that could get you killed. Something that could cost others their lives if it falls into the wrong hands - “

“something that could change the world. Did you think I didn’t weight the outcomes for this? That I’d be reckless enough to even leave any room for chaos?” 

 She sighs squeezing your hand in hers “Nitramene is extremely sensitive, it cannot be thrown about, it can’t even risk to be shaken. It’s highly explosive - “

 You smirk knowingly at her” you have it, don’t you?”

“Howard destroyed every piece of evidence connected to it. Only a few vials of it exist- “

“are you going to make me go on a treasure hunt for it? Because I’m pretty positive it’s in this house-

“calm down Nancy Drew and let me speak.” She glares at you, then at Darcy when she laughs 

“is the chamber built?”

“not yet -“

“I’m not releasing it into your hands until you complete it, then you will go right from here to your lab and begin the experiment. Are we clear? No one is to know - “

“it’s being conducted in the middle of the night, I’ve already figured out how to bypass the security check in and hack into my security cameras to replay footage instead of recording at the time.  There will be no evidence, no traceable date, everything is covered with the project they actually assigned me to.”

“Very well. Go on and finish this, just… make sure whoever you chose for this - “

“there’s nothing to worry about Peg, I think she made a great choice.” Darcy butts in, smiling at you with a wink.

“oh lord.” Your grandmother mutters “I’ll be waiting.” 

“you won’t be waiting long gram.”  You kiss her cheek 

“I didn’t think I would be.  You’re too brilliant for your own good. “

“I wouldn’t be a Carter if I wasn’t.” 

 It only took a day to assemble the chamber, Coulson delivered the vibranium a few hours prior, leaving it in a sealed container on your shelf. The Only missing piece being the Nitramene. You wipe away the sweat on your forehead as you drop down to sit on the floor, tools scattered around you and Darcy laying herself across your lab table, 

“you could have helped.” 

“watching you work is… impressing. But it exhausts me just watching, I’d probably pass out from exhaustion if you actually made me do something. Gotta save my energy anyway.” 

 You roll your eyes at her answer, laying yourself on the floor and letting your eyes flutter shut for a moment “you know I don’t trust anyone else to do this with me, right?” 

“I’d be offended if you did.” She throws a pen at you, cheering when it bounces off your forehead “c’mon, let’s get outta here. We got a couple hours to kill before shit goes down.” 

 And the countdown begins. 

 2 am rolls around, you find yourself on your grandmothers’ doorstep, before even knocking the door flings open. Peggy rushing you inside and leading you toward her bedroom, then into her bathroom. You watch silently as she goes to her shelf of various perfumes, when she turns you see a small bottle in her grasp.

As she gets closer, you pick out a small shape among the liquid, tethered by what looks to be a few strings holding it suspended in the center of the small bottle.

“I cannot strain the importance of keeping this bottle steady y/n. When you remove it from the bottle use these - “she turns back, retrieving a pair of tongs “do it slowly and cautiously when you remove it and place it in. Make sure it’s safely sealed into the compartment you designed to contain it, otherwise - “

“grandma, I can do this.” 

 You’re not sure if you’re reassuring her, or yourself at this point. 

She nods as you gently take the bottle from her hands. She escorts you back to the front door, smiling as she cups your cheek 

“I am incredibly proud of you - “

“For all we know this could fail gran- “

“but it won’t. Do not underestimate your intelligence darling. Good luck, I expect a call in the morning.” She kisses your forehead before sending you on your way.  

You and Darcy sneak into the SHIELD facility, avoiding the halls you know has guards. It’s a lot less stressful since you already hacked into the cameras and began rolling the pre-taped footage. 

 Stepping into your lab, you go right in to work mode. You press a few buttons, smiling when the chamber emerges from the wall, in the hidden false wall your mother left details for in her notes. She installed it herself, there a few more, but you haven’t had a chance to explore those just yet. 

“What do you think your grandmas going to do when she finds out you’re the one taking the serum?” Darcy asks 

That’s the golden question “I’m going to pray that she’s thrilled - “Darcy scoffs “shut up, it’s a 50/50 chance she could be totally ecstatic!”

“Or totally homicidal! I aided you in this! She’ll kill me too!”

You laugh” don’t worry about her, well deal with it when that wave comes - “

“she’s a fucking hurricane, not a little wave. Have you ever met your grandmother?!?”

You shrug her off and get to work, setting up the necessary laptops, open the correct container and finally pop open the actual chamber. Darcy watches in silence and panic as you slowly fill each tiny tube with the serum. The liquid a mesmerizing shade of blue, while the Nitramene sits on the counter, holding a bright orange hue. 

 You adjust everything into its place, cringing when you remember about all the needles necessary to inject the serum.  It’ll only hurt for a second. If Steve Rogers could do it, so can I.  You set your lab to sound proof, and apply the blackout feature to your glass walls, just in case. 

“Alright D, I wrote the directions down and tacked it to the table right in front of where you’re going to be, but I’m gonna go over it verbally for you. “

She nods, following you to her position 

“I’m going to get myself ready, then deposit the Nitramene. It will be stable for roughly 5 minutes, before it becomes a hazard. As soon as I step foot into the chamber hit this button” you point to the large green button labeled ‘1!’. “Immediately after those doors shut, hit the red one” pointing to the one labeled ‘2!’,” it motorizes the spider leg looking things that inject the serum, the light at the top of the chamber will turn blue when it’s all administered, and you’ll see the tubes emptied. once the light is red, hit the other red button- “you point to the ‘3! Just a few more D!’  Labeled button “it initiates the Nitramene, allowing minimum oxygen to infuse into its compartment and sparks the energy just enough for the chamber. You have to move quickly to this lever, - “now you’re in front of a yellow handled lever attached to a small laptop on a small table beside the chamber, wires running it to the chamber, ‘almost done babe #4’. “ This entire screen will turn blue when you need to pull it down the first time-“

“the first time?! “ 

“you nod, it goes by 10% notches of power each time, you have to do it slowly. All that radiation at once would kill me. I placed a note beside the laptop to remind you of the timing. After every notch, the timer in the corner will count down 20 seconds, when it hits 0, you move the lever another notch. Keep

your eyes on the timer. When you hit 100%, as soon as it’s finished it’ll shut itself off, and the doors will pop open.”

 When you finally look at her, you see the concern written clearly on her face. You take her hands in yours, smiling at her 

“hey, you can do this. I trust you. I wouldn’t have asked you to do this if I didn’t believe you could handle it.”

“your life is going to be in my hands- “

“I trust you.” You repeat. “think of this as doing this the Dugan way. Always a chance of-”

“ending up in the hospital.” She finishes, tightening her grip on your hands before tugging you into a tight embrace. 

 “I love you.” She reminds you as she takes her spot at the first button. You hover over the Nitramene, slowly twisting open the lid, and dipping the retractors into the liquid. The orange glow only brightens as you relieve it from its small prison, the tiny ball brightening the entire lab as you take cautious steps toward the small compartment in the chamber for it. Slow and steady, sloooooow and steadyyy . You lower it in, screwing the cap shut as tight as you can. Releasing your breath as the orange lights up it’s small new home. 

 the clock starts now.

“I love you too. Always Darcy” you lift your shirt over your head 

“woah woah woah! Why are you getting naked!?” She shrieks 

You laugh as you remove all your clothes besides your boy short panties. “I feel like this looks like the beginning of a bad science porno.”

Both of you laugh, the sound dying down as you step in front of the open chamber, your heart rapidly racing.  I can do this, I can-

“you sure about this? That’s a lot of needles - “

“pffft, this is nothing - “your wave her off, praying she doesn’t see your hands shaking “I could do this all day. Oh- “you turn to her one last time “just a heads up, the lights are gonna flicker and I’ll probably scream. Ignore it, and keep going - “

“but- “

“do not stop under any circumstances, got it?”

 She nods “your parents would be proud of you ya know?”

“tell me that after this works.”

 You back up into the chamber, squeezing your eyes shut as the doors close you in. 

 The whirring of the machine is oddly calming, you let your mind wander to Steve Rogers. You’ve seen the pictures of him before the transformation, a handsome man before, and just a little bigger handsome man after. You never doubted how your grandmother fell in love with him, throughout all the stories you’ve heard, you’ve fallen in love with the thought of him. 

 Your thoughts falter as you feel the pierce of all 8 needles over your body, a small yelp emitting from you at the harsh pinch.

That wasn’t so bad.  As the liquid pulses through you, the pain ignites. You take deep breathes, as the you hear the first click of the lever being moved. 

 Heat flares through every inch of you, an uncomfortable pressure swimming over your body. You don’t hear the other clicks, only feel the pressure increasing, your body screaming at the pain spreading through you. 

 You force yourself to distractions, you let images of your parent’s flash through your mind, followed with memories of them, along with your grandma, Darcy, dum dum and Coulson.  Even with the distractions you scream out, your body vibrating from all the energy being radiated into you, bones aching and muscles throbbing.

Please work. Please please please. You mentally repeat as the pain sweeps through your body. Until suddenly, it stops, the sound of the doors popping open startle you. 

 You squint your eyes at the blinding light that floods your vision. On wobbly legs you attempt to step out of the chamber, being caught by two arms as you lose your balance. You look up into Darcy’s watering eyes as she snakes her arm around your waist to help you stand. 

“Well? How do I look?” You weakly ask 

She hands you a baggy black V-neck “you’re huge!” She sees your face drop before beating out laughing “I’m -I’m just kidding! You’re fine! Your muscles a little more defined, and your tits are bigger - wait- “she leans and looks behind you” yep, your ass too. That’s not fair man.”

 “Don’t ever do that again. I almost had a heart attack!” You slip the shirt on before walking over the mirror on the wall.

 You really stayed the same size, your arm and leg muscles just look more defined, like Darcy said, and your eyes widen at your chest, then as you turn to check your ass. 

“Huh, didn’t know it was gonna to do that.” You mutter.  

 You return to Darcy’s side, typing furiously on your tablet,” let’s see how the inside looks.”

“how- oh gross! Is that even sanitary?!” Darcy exclaims as you prick yourself on a fingertip prick you pulled from the box beside the screen and wipe the blood on a clean dish.  You use you tablet to scan your blood, an image of your blood and DNA strands appearing on the screen. You grab a journal from your bag, turning to the page you last marked, an image of Steve Rogers blood and DNA that Howard kept behind Peggy’s back (although she actually knew.)

 You hold his images beside yours, the abnormalities perfectly matching his. 

“we did it.” You whisper, your volume increasing as you spin to Darcy “WE DID IT!! I can’t believe it!” You squeal 

She opens her mouth to speak, except the voice that sounds, doesn’t belong to her 

“Funny, neither can I.” 

Your tablet drops from your hands as the familiar eye patch accompanied by the glare of Nick Fury steps into sight 

Welp,  this is gonna be fun.

Legacy Tags:

@agentmarvel13 @1v-kayla @5sos-wdw @a-dancing-hufflepuff @avngrsinitiative @bradfordsgreekgod @captainam-erika-trash @carisi-sonny @chook007 @daniellajocelyn @ellieababy @futuremissstark @gummiwormsandonedirection @henrietteoaks @hermionie-is-my-queen @ineedmorefanfics @katykyll @littlephoenix-fire @lovemarvelousfics @maddie-laufeyson @moli1497 @paintballkid711 @pastelpurplexoox @sillydecoy @spodermanpete @tienna-laufeyson16  

[angstymarshmallow]

Wilted and Burdened (Jax x MC)

[A little note: Originally I was working on something trr related but abandoned that idea entirely and tried my hand at writing angst for Jax and MC instead. I can’t resist writing some good ol’ angst. From the way I say I love you prompts - 32 In a way I can’t return, thanks anon!] 

[Word Count:1789]

I love you.

Three little words that meant everything for a lot of people. Three little words that held a type of joy from effortlessly falling for someone. Three little words that made nothing else matter. But for others it was more complicated - too complicated to keep and more simpler to abandon. And to the rest it meant empty promises said in the heat of the moment, only for the regret to come later. 

But for Harlow, those three little words had meant the first thing. They had meant everything. A new and surreal experience she had finally realized with alarming clarity that had sent her heart racing. For her, it meant the beginning of something with the man nestled beside her.

He had been watching her sleep when she awoke and the words had tumbled from her lips after seeing his affectionate smile. A-spur-of-the-moment decision that rang with absolute clarity inside her heart despite the warning bells in her head; imploring her that it was far too early in their relationship. 

But slowly, the implications of her words dawned on her. And very quickly, I love you was becoming her ultimate demise as his eyes widened in shock.

He remained silent. 

And the words seemed to hang in the air between them; filling the room with uneasy silence left behind by his unspoken answer.

Harlow froze.

Her lips formed an o while the rest of her was still reeling from how quickly their circumstances had changed. It wasn’t long ago when the thought of vampires yet alone falling for one was inconceivable and yet here she was. 

When she met his unblinking stare, she swore the fine hairs on her skin went completely still. Unable to speak for a moment, she tried to close the increasing gap between them, wanting nothing more than to prove how much she loved him - only for him to pull back seconds before she could reassure him with a kiss.

His eyes had changed from its dark crimson back into its dark pools of abyss; eyes that she had often gotten lost in during moments like this were now looking at her strangely. 

He was staring at her in disbelief instead of echoing her sentiments. “What…” He slammed his mouth shut then opened it again. “What did you say?”

“I said I loved you.” She repeated, with more conviction this time. She had meant to be reassuring but instead her eyes caught the flash of panic staring back at her, mingled with the shadow of a pain she had seen only once before.

Was she completely wrong to tell him how she felt? Was everything she thought she felt between them was a lie?

No, she didn’t believe it was a lie.

“Jax…” Harlow trailed off. She tried to reach for him again until he shook his head. Her hand fell back to her side.

“I –” She stopped short, failing to find better words in explaining how strongly she felt for him. How far she had fallen since they met. And the more she thought about it, the more she thought those three little words weren’t nearly in describing how he made her feel and for everything he had ever done for her.  

. But saying it happened in a moment of weakness – a way for her to say she wanted forever – because being with a vampire, meant more than a temporary and fleeting whim. It was a declaration of love that she wanted with him for eternity.

And yet, watching the light she adored in his eyes snuff out – she was beginning to think that telling him the truth was a mistake. A mistake that made him stare at her as though she was a stranger instead of the woman he hadn’t spent the last few hours making love with.

She was wrong.

He hadn’t been ready to hear it – she knew that now as he got to his feet without meeting her expression. She knew that now as apprehension settled near the pit of her stomach and she rolled across the bed to try and find her bearings, to fight for composure. Blinking back tears and the sting of rejection, she tried again. She needed a reason to believe that he hadn’t felt the same, when everything he had ever done for her – seemed to tell a different story. “I don’t understand…did I do something wrong..?”

Why can’t you say it back? Why can’t you tell me you love me too?

She knew he thought about her. She could tell his feelings were strong from the amount of times she caught him staring, laughing at something she said and even from the way he held her inside his arms – there was never a moment since they grew closer with each passing day that she doubted he did.

               And yet the second she saw his panic – she wanted nothing more than to take the words back. To run to him and make some off-beat joke about how corny love confessions are; anything to bring his smile back. But she couldn’t. Even if she really wanted to, when she spoke those three little words into existence was the exact moment she had sealed her fate.

And fate was telling her, he was it for her. The real deal.

“Jax –”

The vampire who had often resonated quiet strength and resolve, an undeniable fierceness she admired seemed to be all but missing now. Instead, he clumsily slipped into his boxers and in his quick haste, yanked his shirt over his head to ignore her. “I should go.” He responded tersely, still avoiding her stare.

“Jax wait –” She sat upright, leaned close enough to grab his wrist – only for her fingers to come up empty.

“I shouldn’t have come by,” He continued as though he hadn’t heard her. “Coming by was a mistake. It’s unsafe for us right now…especially for you,” he took a ragged breath, finally meeting her stare with a clenched jaw. “Seeing you was selfish. Selfish and stupid.”

“That isn’t true.” Harlow said indignantly, jutting her chin at him. “I wanted to see you – you know nothing would’ve stopped me from coming to see you.” She took a deep breath for a moment, fighting the lump she felt by her throat. “Seeing you is the only thing that still makes sense in this – in this fucked up world we’re in right now.” Getting to her feet, she made quick strides to stand in front of him.

“And being with you…it’s like…” she trailed for a moment, searching his eyes. “It’s the only thing that still makes sense, especially when the rest of the world right now is falling apart.”

“Harlow –” His voice was weak, a gentle plea for her to stop as he took a step back.

“Why can’t you say it back?” She demanded suddenly, taking a step forward. She pointed her fingers to his chest until he caught her hand. “Why can’t you say you love me too?” She demanded, feeling the corner of her eyes sting. “We see each other all the time – and every moment I’ve spent in your arms, is the only time I’ve ever felt loved. Cherished.”

Eyes flashing in anguish, he looked away and dropped her hand. “You only think you do.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to do that.” Her voice was rising, spiralling out of control with the rest of her emotions. Everything had been on edge for so long, she felt as though the rest of her was on standby to fall apart. “You do not get to tell me how I feel,” she shook her head adamantly. “Even if you can’t admit it to me, I know you love me too.”

Her voice softened a fraction as she tried to cup his cheek, forcing him back to stare down at her. “Jax…why can’t you tell me how you’re really feeling – ” when he tried to interrupt, she continued quickly, “ – and not about the clanless, or the war brewing over our heads now with the Council on our tails. Why can’t you just tell me how you feel about me? Just me.”

For a moment, hope flares in her chest as she watches him. His eyes wander over her face as if he was trying to remember every detail. Then it dies just as quickly the second she felt him slip away; his eyes going carefully blank – his posture remaining stiff as he shrugged off her touch.

Placing a wide berth between them, he cleared his throat. “I have to go.” He said abruptly.

And with it, a dam inside her burst. Tears blurred her vision for a moment, and she quickly turns away from him to rub her eyes. “Okay, then go.” Her words are sharp now, buried underneath layers of hurt until he touched her arm. “Just go.”

“Harlow –”

“You shouldn’t care what happens to me anyway, I’m just some human.” She rushed on, swiping her bangs from her forehead. “And in a few weeks you’ll forget all about me –”

Jax whirled her so fast that the rest of her sentence was cut short and her gasp became muffled as she felt his lips crash against hers, molding her to him like the pieces they always knew they were – fitting together despite their differences.

A whimper escaped her throat. Her fingers made tiny fists into his hair as he slid his tongue into her mouth, deepening their kiss.

“I can’t Harlow,” he whispered against her lips. She could feel his fingers faintly rubbing across her back. “I can’t love you.” He said hoarsely.

Her heart sunk with every word he uttered. “But…but why not?”

“Because there is too much at stake.” He released her then, running his thumb over her lip. “There’s too many people counting on me. And I don’t - I couldn’t live with myself if you get hurt, because of me.”

She stared up at him. “What’s life without a little risk?”

“Safe. You need to be safe.” He continued, dropping his thumb after she pressed a kiss there. “I can’t risk this. I can’t risk you.” His brows creased, “I can’t afford to...to be distracted when my people need me.” He looked away after catching the flash of hurt inside her eyes.

“My people are too high of a price to pay for a distraction.” His voice was filled with regret, “I could see us…in another time maybe.In another place,” he muttered, “I could see you us settling down somewhere - away from all of this. I could see you being everything,” his voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “But I will not allow it. Not now. I cannot love you because my people need me. And I cannot put you over my people.”

She flinched then, feeling as though he slapped her with every word. “You need to leave.”

“Harlow I –” He tried to reach for her but she shoved him back.

“Don’t.”

Nodding slowly, Jax pulled on his pants and grabbed his jacket on his way out. Once his hand was by the door, Harlow spoke up.

“I get it.” She threw her hands in the air. “I get that you’re this badass warrior that-that has to bleed himself dry for the people he cares about,for the people that look to you for guidance – but what about what you want?” She couldn’t meet his eyes, knowing it would shatter her heart if she did. “Doesn’t that matter at all?”

“What I want....I can’t allow that to matter.” He said slowly; her heart sinking with every word. “Because until this war is over – there can never be an us. Not a real us anyway.”

-

[ofcacthuxandkylosaur]

Are there any trans Kylo fics out there? I feel as if it's all only trans hux this or feminized hux that...

I think there is indeed more trans Hux than trans Kylo out there, but I still managed to find some. Beware that I haven’t read most of the fics and therefore cannot say anything about their content. I also recommend of course you read the autor’s warnings;)

Trans Kylo Art

https://croatomunchi.tumblr.com/post/142969291522/would-u-ever-draw-like-hux-and-trans-kylo - croatomunchi

http://artllama.tumblr.com/post/146236116396/i-did-a-transition-log-because-i-cant-not-spend - artllama

http://toiek.tumblr.com/post/141289851114/i-love-trans-kylo - toiek

http://rip-space-birdie.tumblr.com/post/141067487245/kylo-ren-is-trans-pass-it-on - rip-space-birdie

http://opens-up-4-nobody.tumblr.com/post/153044170134/stutter-iplier - opens-up-4-nobody

http://opens-up-4-nobody.tumblr.com/post/147354462721/nice - opens-up-4-nobody

http://angerydj.tumblr.com/post/169121106275 - angerydj

http://corvosfursona.tumblr.com/post/137737245113/they-fixed-him-up-but-hes-conked-and-phasma - corvosfursona

http://kiiiloren.tumblr.com/post/137138625403/coming-to-u-live-tiny-trans-padawan-ben-solo  - kiiiloren

+ There is also a blog whose name is Trans!Kylo

Trans Kylo headcanons/ideas

http://bygoneboy.tumblr.com/post/148311042452/hi-u-should-talk-abt-ur-trans-kylo-headcanons - bygoneboy

http://nbnightwing.tumblr.com/post/136272896831/anyway-ive-been-thinking-a-lot-about-trans-guy - nbnightwing

http://kremaclassii.tumblr.com/post/137459014170/whispers-more-trans-kylo-head-canons - kremaclassii

http://kiiiloren.tumblr.com/post/138435517778/ive-been-thinking-about-trans-hux-and-kylo + http://kiiiloren.tumblr.com/post/137141605853/since-leia-is-force-sensitive-imagine-her-being - kiiiloren

http://lilstarkiller.tumblr.com/post/141230802426/alright-alright-i-keep-thinking-weve-got-trans - lilstarkiller

http://generallyhorribleatlife.tumblr.com/tagged/trans%21kylo - generallyhorribleatlife

Trans Kylo Fics

“Almond”  - angry_android || Kylo likes to hang out at his local Starbucks and brood. Hux works there part-time while going to community college. Because of someone else’s sloppy handwriting, Hux accidentally calls out Kylo’s name as “Kylie,” and there is fallout. The fallout might include dating.

“pocketknife”  - angry_android || There’s a reason Kylo wears a crop top. Hux understands.

“Casanova, Fuck Me Over”  -  Anonymous || With another kiss, Hux glances up. “You promise try and keep your limbs to yourself?” Ren snorts. “I will try my best,” he says, placing his hands on the sheets, “If you promise to stick your face between my thighs sometime soon.”

“Tarine Tea and Lambro Shark”  -  armitageren || The First Order celebrates a recent victory on a luxurious planet and it’s the perfect setting for Kylo Ren and Armitage Hux’s first date. Hux struggles to survive the date with his anxiety putting him on edge because Ren doesn’t know he’s trans and he isn’t sure what that means for their future.

“all the noises (from your hateful little mouth)”  - bloomthefox || In which Kylo whines and puts off his feelings, Phasma calls it like she sees it, and Hux is a stone cold mystery. Or, the defense attorney AU that literally nobody asked for.

“care and control”  -  cracktheglasses (cormallen) ||  It’s a wide strip of dark brown leather, soft, already a bit worn at the edges, snapped shut over Ben’s wrist. It means Ben wants him. Ben needs him. He may not always be able to say it, but he means it every time he puts the cuff on, every time he puts himself into Hux’s care – I’m yours.

“juxtaposition”  - cracktheglasses (cormallen) || He hopes Hux makes it hurt. Hopes Hux is as mean and arrogant and smart here as he is everywhere else, the way Kylo tries to be.

“Changed” -   Davechicken || Kylo was sure from a young age that he wasn’t female. It’s not until he leaves home that he finds people who agree.

“Pushed”  - Davechicken || Hux has to push his boy a little, to get him through the discomfort. Kylo always appreciates it after.

“Control”  - DoctorNinjaSpy || Patience is Armitage’s most valued virtue. Sometimes, however, he falters.

“special delivery” - gonnapop || Hux had not intended to be present for this messy process. Rather, he’d imagined returning after his shift and being handed a clean, swaddled baby. But there was nothing for it now.He rolled up his sleeves.

“Heel, Beg, Speak”  - JulieCox || Emperor Hux has a new pet, and enjoys pushing him around. Kylo has secrets, and enjoys keeping them to his own damn self. But they won’t stay secrets for long.

“the Panty fic”  -  kyloskummies || Kylo and Hux are roommates. Kylo is trans and wears panties. It’s a hot day and the AC is broken. Y'all know where it goes from there.

“Bad Poet and Good Artist”  -  lovewashisname || Hux has moved schools before. He’s sure this time won’t be any different. He’ll keep to himself, make a few acquaintances, and put up with his father the best he can. But not even an hour into his first day and he’s shattered his phone, walked into a gorgeous boy, and had a very, very awkward conversation with said gorgeous boy. In other words, Hux meets the incredibly sad Ben Solo, and maybe he doesn’t want to leave this school so soon.

“Bad Poetry on Starlit Rooftops”  -  lovewashisname || Everywhere Kylo looks, high school is portrayed as either the best place you’ll ever be, or a shithole that will ruin four years of your life. For Kylo, it’s neither. High school has been a place to hide from his own body, and to get into fights every once in a while. So in one year, none of that will change, he thinks. How wrong could he be? told from Kylo’s point of view

“A Real Boy”  -  MosImagination || Ben solo is a transmale junior, he has a crush on a senior named Hux. Ben is too afraid to show off his real self, but Hux quickly accepts him. And loves him.

“Birth of a dream”  -  MosImagination || Ben solo is a transmale, hux has always wanted a child, Ben gives his body to have their child.

“Expectations”  -  MosImagination || Ben solo didn’t know what to expect coming home on Valentines Day.

“Shark in the Water”  -  SeraphicVictory || Kylo Ren was absolutely the best sailor there ever was. Or that’s what he liked people to believe anyway. In truth, he was no better than any other man at the mercy of the sea. With one fatal mistake, he and his ship were destroyed in a terrible storm, and Kylo was certain he would fall to the watery grave that most sailors met at the end. But then he wakes up to a handsome, red-headed man. His savior: The Mershark called ‘Hux’.

“Someone to come home to”  -  ShinigamiKnox || Hux is the supportive boyfriend and helps Kylo deal with his dysphoria. It was supposed to be a more serious piece of work, but I could not stop laughing at the infamous Ren quote. I’m so sorry.

“A morning at the gym”  -  SidMjkGc || Just another kind of workout.

“This Asshole”  - twinkyatta || Hux goes to a coffee shop every day, but there’s a new barista, and holy fuck does he hate him.

+ Trans Female Kylo fic

“Fate”  -  MosImagination || It was fate that they met. A beautiful transfemale Kylo ren. A handsome transmale Hux.

Trans Kylo series (of fics) 

“The Monsters We Keep”  -  AriMarris || Description: “The Monsters We Keep” is the story of Hux and Kylo, who fall in love and marry young and make many mistakes. Basically, the films rewritten through Kylo’s eyes with drastic changes. With extra one-shots thrown in the mix for fun.

“Bastards and Broken Things”  -  Bipolar_Armitage_Hux, kohoutek || No Description –> Resume of first work: A story of Armitage Hux’s childhood from the Bastards and Broken Things AU / Series.

“Caged by Monsters” (one work for now)  -  Bipolar_Armitage_Hux, kohoutek || No Description –> Resume of first work:  An introduction to the psychiatric ward AU - this is written by an actually neurodivergent person and thus there is a strong attempt to make it not remotely ableist. The “bad guys” in this are the abusive doctors and an ableist system. Hux meets Kylo Ren for the first time, or rather the other sees him in a therapy session with Dr. Brendol Hux and becomes fascinated by him.

“The Tired Raptor”  -  Kylux_TRASH || Description: “Hollywood, 1939. Amidst the glitz and the glitter of a bustling young movie talent at the height of its golden age, the Hollywood Tower Hotel was a star in its own right. A beacon for the show business elite. Now, something is about to happen that will change all that”Something did happen to change that. It happened, on October 31st, 1939, Hollywood California. Kayla-Rose and her male escort, Mr. Hux were riding in the elevator when they entered into a world unknown. They entered The Twilight Zone.

“when the lights are low”  -  transkylo (captainandor) || No Description –> Resume of first work: “Do your colleagues know how fucking possessive you are?” Kylo asks, canting his hips back, pressing into Hux’s touch as far as he can.Hux grins. “Does your mother know that you sleep with her political rivals?” Kylo’s laugh is breathy and uneven. “I don’t make a habit of it.” 

+ Trans Female Kylo series (of fic)

“She’s Just a Girl and She’s on Fire”  -   Kylo Hux (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson) || No Description –> Resume of first work: Hux and Phasma have been sent to a fundraiser for The First Order. Their uniforms have been changed for a smart military uniform and a glamorous ball gown. Everyone that should be here is – except for one person.Kylo Ren is absent, still on another planet, having surgery. She was supposed to be here, supposed to be on security detail for the night; Hux lost hope of seeing his girlfriend for the first time in months when he saw two Knights of Ren circling the room.

“from bby Finn to teenage heartthrob + Hux  (one work for now)  -  orphan_account || No Description –> Resume of first work: Mostly, Phasma loves her job. But sometimes, just sometimes, she really hates it. Meanwhile, Hux has a slight problem, and her name is Kylo Ren.

[salt-sass-and-lyrium]

Problems in tech support #???/??? aka “How do you not know how to turn it off and back on again?”

The sheer amount of people who don’t know how to turn a computer off and on, or what restarting a computer is never fails to amaze me

So I just got off a call with a lady... let’s call her.. Susan. Susan was actually pretty nice, called in to say she was having trouble getting her emails to send after she’d changed her password this morning. TL;DR her Outlook was still trying to connect to the Exchange server with her old password.

I asked if she’d rebooted since changing her password (99% of the time that’s the issue, passwords haven’t sync’d up, restarting fixes it) and she said yes. I asked again:

“You’re sure you restarted? Like, the PC powered off and back on and you logged back in?” “Yes.” “And you did that today, after you changed your password?” “Yes.” “And you’re positive you didn’t just log off, that the PC actually fully shut down and powered back on?” “Yes. I’m sure.”

So I remote in to this lady’s PC and check her up time: 22 hours.

So,  literally not possible she restarted her computer today. I again ask if she’s sure she actually hit “restart” and not “log off”

“Yes. Positive.”

FFS

So I reboot the computer, which solves the problem. But the lady gets angry “Why did it work when you did it??!! I restarted before calling you!!”

Me: ... Susan your computer has been on for 22 hours. It’s literally not possible that it was restarted today. Susan: ... 22 hours? Me: Yes. 22 hours. Susan: ... Oh. I guess I logged out Me: Correct. Susan: But... that’t the same thing, right? Logging off, shutting down, restarting... they’re all the exact same?

Long post under the cut

A few more anecdotes since I’m in the sharing mood 

I had a dude at my old job... let’s call him Gary. Gary was a piece of shit. He was just an asshole. An asshole who’s goal each day was to just be a fucking dick to people (his own secretary told me that). Unfortunately for me, Gary was also largely computer illiterate, but refused to acknowledge that and would just insist he knew what he was doing (he never did).

Anyway, Gary would call in every few weeks with the same issue: “My computer is moving slow, things are freezing/not opening correctly, programs are crashing, etc”.

And so we’d always ask “Gary, when’s the last time you restarted your computer?”

Now. Gary did not know how to restart his computer. He did not know how to turn it off or on. I literally had to walk him through how to press the power button once, hand to God. In the years I worked there, I spent... I don’t even know how many times, walking Gary through how to restart, telling him how often he should be doing it, etc.

Gary would bounce between two things:

1. He JUST restarted his PC and he’s still having the issue so we don’t know what we’re talking about.

And when we’d remote in and show him that his computer has been on for like 2 months, he’d jump to:

2. He never restarts his computer because it takes too long.

IT TAKES TOO LONG BECAUSE YOU NEVER RESTART IT YOU FUCKING IDIOT.

Anyway, Gary calls in one day with a bunch of issues he “is sure are not fixable” (they absolutely were, super tiny things he should know how to do himself). I check his up time, and realize... it.. to the literal fucking hour and minute, has been on since the last time I restarted it, weeks ago. Gary is going on and on about how he’s been restarting like we tell him to and it doesn’t work so we’re all dumb yada yada yada. I show Gary his up time, then show him the ticket time from the last time I restarted his computer, and that they were the same, and explained “Gary, you cannot possibly be restarting your computer as much as you say. It’s literally been on since the last time I restarted it weeks ago.” Gary seems to take this in stride, asks a few questions (same shit I’ve explained to him time and time again), I help him with all his other issues, he thanks me for my help and we call it a day.

Gary then calls back in after I’ve gone home for the day to “Demand information on [redacted]’s ‘computer restart policy’.”

If it sounds like bullshit, it’s because it is.  Because there isn’t one. So when the person who answered explained there isn’t one, but explained that he should be restarting ideally every day, at the bare bare minimum once a week. Gary then starts to complain about me, saying that I’d ‘’called him dumb’, (nope) and ‘laughed at him’ (nope). The analyst, having known me, knows that’s not a thing I would do, so he pressed him. Gary back peddles and says “Well, no, she didn’t call me dumb or laugh... but she was extremely rude.” Analyst asks for more details, because if it were true (it wasn’t) it’s a big deal. Gary back peddles some more says ‘well, no, she was perfectly polite and helpful... but she made me feel stupid (all because I told him he needs to restart his PC)”. Luckily, I’d been with the company long enough where my manager didn’t even look into it because he knew it was bullshit. But still.

A year or two before Gary, there was... Debra. I actually think her actual name was Debra, iirc.

Anyway, Debra was also not very tech savvy, and, surprise surprise, never rebooted her computer. She had a really old Windows PC that she wanted to use to work from home with, and somehow made it work. But, she’d been having troubles getting things to load, things were crashing, freezing, etc. Unfortunately for Debra, when she called in the first few times, she got people who don’t really know what they’re doing, so no one though to check “Hey how long has this computer been on?”

I remote in, and realize that a LOT of the icons on her desktop are super outdated. Like, several updates ago outdated. So I check her up time.

ALMOST 4 FUCKING MONTHS. FOUR. FUCKING. MONTHS. She had not restarted her PC in FOUR GODDAMN MONTHS.

So I point this out to Debra, who asks if that’s the reason behind “all this bullshit” (keep in mind, this is her own personal computer, we are technically not required to help her with it and could’ve told her to go fuck herself). I say “probably” and that we’ll need to restart, but inform her restarting could take a long while, as she’s got 4 fucking months of updates.

Debra: Well! I hope you have the passwords!!! Me: ... the passwords? Debra: YES. The passwords. Since you wanna turn things off.

First of all bitch, I don’t wanna do anything. I’m doing this because I’m nice.

Me: .. the passwords...? To your own personal computer? Debra: *now realizing she sounds stupid* Yeah.. Me: ... Debra...why would I have the passwords to your own personal computer? Debra: *huffs and puffs and starts swearing under her breath*

We restart (keep in mind, I TOLD her it could take a long while because she’s likely got a billion updates), and of course it takes a long while. I hang on the line with her (again, a thing I do not have to do) and the entire time she bitches.

Debra: WELL, how long is this going to take?! Me: Can’t say. Debra: what do you mean you can’t say? Me: Well, you’ve got over 100 updates (it was like 106 or something). Debra: WHY DO I HAVE SO MANY?! Me: ... because you haven’t restarted your computer in almost 4 months. You have about 4 months of updates just from Windows, not to mention from [redacted].

The updates take probably over 30 minutes or so. Again, I don’t have to help this lady, and the long call time is fucking up my stats, which negatively impacts my performance reviews. But I’m nice and want her to be able to work. 

Debra spends the entire time screaming and yelling at me, before the updates finish and she goes

“Oh, now it looks like my computer in the office does.”

Yeah... because it’s updated, finally. Debra was a cunt, tbh.

Alright, one more before I get outta here

So right after Windows 8 came out, [redacted] decided to upgrade their systems from XP to 8. Which, huge fucking jump if you’re not tech savvy. So this lady calls in, zero idea what her name was... well call her... Lisa. Lisa calls in to complain because her computer is freezing, running slow, yada yada yada. 

I, knowing that with Windows 8, the shut down/restart options are hard to find for many people, ask “Have you been restarting your computer?”

Lisa: Yes! I restart it every night! Me: You sure? You’re sure it’s fully powering off every night? Lisa: YES! I’ve been working on computers longer than you’ve been alive (she sounds fucking ancient so that’s probably true). Me: Ok. It’s just in the Windows 8 OS... Lisa: *cuts me off* *shouts over me* *demands I remote in to her computer*

I remote in, check her up time. About 3 weeks iirc. So I ask Lisa

Me: When you say you’re restarting the computer, powering it off, where are you going to do that? Lisa: ... the uh... welll... Me: Can you show me just so I can see? You said you do it every night, what do you do? Lisa: *now indignant* I go to blah blah and hit sign out. Every night.

... ok so that’s not restarting.

Me: Ok, so that’s not restarting. All the ‘sign out’ option does is sign you out of your Windows account. It does not power the PC down. Lisa: ... No. That’s not what I was told. Me: Told by who? Lisa: *stammers and refuses to answer* Me: Well, if you were told that, you were told wrong, unfortunately. *shows her where the restart and shut down options are* *gives usual ‘the importance of restarting your computer’ speech* Lisa: *proceeds to tell me I’m wrong* *screams at me some more*

Spoiler alert: Restarting her computer fixed her problem.

One thing that always irks me is when people say:

“I’m not a tech.  I’m not trained in technical support” etc. Because... you don’t have to be a tech, you don’t have to have any certifications or special training to know how to turn something off and back on again. Especially if it’s something that you own.

TONS of people (mostly iPhone users in my experience) do not know how to turn their phones off. Many of them don’t even know you can. Have no idea where/what the power button is, etc. Like... this is a thing you own, that you likely picked out and bought yourself... learn the basics of how to fucking use it.

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @nonbinary-kurt-wagner!

I hope you enjoy this fluffy soulmates fic.

And for your viewing pleasure—the soulmates tattoo.

***** 

You hear him before you see him.

It’s late enough that the subway is beginning to empty, but it’s still noisy, still crowded, and you want to snarl over the people pressed to familiar and close as they jostle out of the train and onto the subway platform.

You tighten your grip on the violin case, and tug your coat a little be tighter around you, and that’s when you hear it, the haunting strains of music floating through the noise and talk, through the shifting packages and the quick feet and the rapid phone conversations.

You hear it and you think you could listen to it every day, could listen to nothing but this, and be blissfully happy.

The mass of people leaving the train slow your progress, keep you from seeing, and it makes you smile, just a little, because you aren’t the only one who can hear the unspeakable beauty in those clear clean notes.

So you nudge your way out of the train before the doors close, and wait as the song plays out, a classic Christmas melody with tiny flourishes and drawn out notes that make it stunning and unique and new, wait impatiently near the back of too many people as the song closes and they clap and move along sluggishly, almost like they are waiting for more.

A tiny smile ticks at the corner of your lips as you cut through the crowd, less dense now, and there.

Now.

You can see him now.

Pale skin and moles scattered along his fine skin, pink chapped lips pulled into a wide smile, messy hair. Broad shoulders and a lithe body tapered into a neat waist, and long legs wrapped in skinny jeans.

And his hands, clutched around the neck of the violin and the end of his bow, resting lightly against his leg.

He grins at the people dropping change and giftcards and handful of singles into the violin case and you sigh a little.

You spent the evening performing with a world class orchestra, a familiar culmination to your year of concerts and shows, and this--this is where you want to be.

He lifts his hand, rubbing his shoulder, and you smile.

He always touches his soulmark when he’s thinking of you.

“One more?” you ask, and he whips around, lighting up with a wide smile.

~*~

When you were a child, you hated your mark. You were seven when it first appeared, and by then you already knew about them. The marks that appeared at birth, or when your soulmate was born. They develop slow, getting more detail and intricacies as the soulpair grow older. You used to look at your grandmother’s, a wolf caught in a dreamcatcher with a bed of stars that trailed down her arm and into her fingers, growing denser over the years, with tiny hidden meanings in it and wonder what yours would be like, what it would mean.

Then you woke up in late April, a burning itch on your neck and Laura laughed and danced around it, the tiny violin outlined there.

Your mother smiled placidly and three days later, you were in your first lesson and you hated it.

~*~

“Can you keep up, sourwolf?” he asks, and you smirk at him, and open your case.

You’re pretty sure Deaton would kill you for taking the Stradivari out here, but this violin.

This one is yours.

This is the one you play on Christmas Eve, in memory of your father, who spent most of the eight years after your mark appeared crafting it for you.

It’s not a world-renowned instrument, and is only remarkable because you are the one playing it--but to you, crouched on a dirty platform with your soulmate’s eyes on you, it is priceless.

You raise an eyebrow as you settle the violin and touch the bow to it’s strings.

Stiles smiles, wide and mischievous and plays.

~*~

Your tattoo doesn’t change, not for years, and it doesn’t surprise you. They don’t change much before soulpairs meet--only drastic, life-altering things are marked in ink.

The first time you shift, running wild with your pack under the moon, it warms and stings, a sweet pain. Later, you look at it, the thin crescent moon wrapped around your colorless violin that has faded into something a little messy and abstract, and you wonder what your soulmate thinks of it.

You learn to like the violin. In a pack of werewolves, shoved between your overbearing older sister and demanding baby sister, the practice room was yours, your lessons a place of quiet solitude. You were good at it, and you felt closer to your soulmate, when you held your violin, sat in your dusty studio alone.

That’s where you were, when you felt the burning itch in your back. You were fifteen and hadn’t felt it burn in eight years, and it seared through, painful and wrong as you clenched your eyes shut and bit your lip against the pain of it.

There’s a heartline, when you look later, cutting through the violin, a shaky thing that goes flat too soon. You shift and run, and when you can no longer hear your sisters and your pack, you weep.

For the soulmate you do not know and the pain they are feeling that you cannot share or protect them from.

~*~

He plays Silent Night, which earns a tilt of your eyebrows, because this is Stiles and he has never been silent, not ever.

He grins in response, and kicks the tempo up, hips swaying a little as he loses himself in the song, and you watch him.

You’re drawing a crowd--you always draw one, when you play together.

Derek Hale of the New Your Philharmonic does not play with street performers, not even ones like Stiles Stilinski, street performer cum YouTube darling.

Except.

You do. Because since that first night that you stumbled over his videos, his smile grainy and bright, his music fucking brilliant, you haven’t been able to get him out of your head.

Laura nudged you and said you were obsessed and you nodded and tried to figure out where the fuck he was playing.

~*~

It changes again, when you survive, at a practice for a recital, Laura waiting impatiently for you, and your family--your pack--doesn’t.

The fire burned hot and fast, and Kate’s smile flashed bright and burning in your mind, a sick gleam in her eyes as she confessed to everything, as Laura shook helpless fury at your side.

She ranted about werewolves, enough that she walked into Eichan and never walked out, but it wasn’t enough.

Your family was dead and she lived and it wasn’t enough.

The burning in your mark comes later than you expect, when you’re sitting in the dirty motel room Laura rented and you allowed it to sink in--that your family was dead because of you.

Because you let Kate into your heart and your bed and your life.

It burns, three long drips from the moon, like it’s bleeding.

You revel in the pain, and think it’s nowhere near what you deserve.

~*~

He catches your eye as Silent Night winds down, and you twist the melody into The Carol of the Bells. It’s risky and you grin at Stiles’ narrowed eyes, as he follows you through the song, making up far more than you probably should.

The crowd is thicker now, and you know at least one camera is pointed at you, but when you’re like this--when you’re with Stiles, you forget about being recorded. You forget about everything but him and the music.

~*~

You’ve been listening to him play for three weeks, lingering on the subway platform and watching his videos almost obsessively when he finally stalks across the subway station, and jabs you with his bow.

“What the actual fuck, man. Why are you being such a creeper?”

You blink because you don’t know what to say and then you groan, because--

It’s different this time. It doesn’t burn. It spreads like a hot touch, but it’s good, it’s so damn good it makes you hard, makes your eyes roll back and Stiles sways a little, and--

Oh.

“Shit,” he whispers, staring at you, all wide-eyed and panting.

He shoves his shirt sleeve up and there it is, on his shoulder, in gorgeous color. The mark on your back, the one that reflects you and him, and it’s there, in vibrant blues and subtle greens and he’s staring at you like you’re his whole world.

“Shit,” he says again and you laugh.

“Did you know?” he demands, urgent and you shake your head. Bite your lip and touch the violin on his shoulder.

“I play, too.”

He’s smiling, wide and pleased when you kiss him for the first time.

~*~

You play together and the crowd thins and grows and thins again, but it doesn’t matter, really.

Because you’re with Stiles and he’s playing and smiling at you like you hung the moon, his cheeks flushed with cold and the excitement, and you love him, this man whose written into your skin, who drew you with his beautiful music even before you knew his name.

You feel it, the familiar warmth burning on your back and Stiles eyes, always on yours, widens just a little as he feels the same telltale echo.

You lower your violin as the song ends and wave at the crowd, taking a good natured bow as you put the instrument away. Stiles is a little slower, talking and cleaning out his case, but you like watching him and he’s vibrating with impatience and nerves when you tuck his scarf around him, into the leather jacket he stole from you.

“What was that, Derek?” he asks, and you shrug, smiling.

You think of the ring in your pocket and the pack you’ve built that loves him, and the stories written into your grandmother’s mark, into your parents and Laura’s and you want that.

You want that with him.

“C’mon, Stiles,” you tug him lightly up the steps, and high above the city the moon beckons. “It’s Christmas Eve. You get to open a present if we get home early enough.”

He eyes you but he doesn’t say anything, just takes your hand, violins banging lightly against your side as you walk and the mark on your back burns bright and warm.

[fuck-philip-banks]

this is a post about dreams. sorry if it interrupts you scrolling through tags, I wanted to tag it with as many triggers as I could think of that might affect someone, it’s not a scary post it’s just long and has a lot of tags

okay I just had 3 dreams that were memorable asf (I had a ton more but can’t remember most of the details) because I just had 15 hours of sleep which is my first adequate amount in at least three fuckin months so here’s my dealio bc listen to this

dream 1    one of the dreams I was training as a ninja. this is the least cool one. only thing I remember is our really excited and happy teacher-dude went to sleep in the teacher’s lounge by walking across it nonchalantly and I had an argument with the, like, two friends I was with bc we weren’t sure whether the teacher’s lounge had ninja traps or whether he just wanted us to think it had ninja traps

dream 2    this is somewhat cool. my mom and I, along with dad and two sibs, were at a really member-exclusive mall. dad + sibs were eating food outside. they were at these little tables, like with the umbrellas over them, you know the ones, except the umbrellas were hexagonal, fixed to the tables, and the tables were also hexagonal and extended down to the ground, in such a way that you’d be able to fit em into a little hexagon-shaped hole real easy. this dining area was over this big river. anyway that’s not the point but it is important later.    so we get informed by this lady in an aisle of magazines (I should mention here that all the magazine covers were predominantly this shade of gray-white as was the entire whole mall and I don’t remember why) that the security wanted us. so we go over to security, which were these two really weird wall robots shaped like water fountains, and they were like YOU CANNOT BE HERE. YOU ARE NOT AUTHORIZED. and mom was like no it’s cool I work at an airline, and said what airline. the security was like THAT AIRLINE NO LONGER OFFERS MEMBERSHIP. YOU MUST LEAVE.    and I do not remember what happened next but at some point later my mom and I were swimming across this river away from the mall, but that was because the sky was getting super fucked up and I don’t mean “shit bad thunderstorm” fucked up I mean it would make any visiting meteorologist and/or physicist either cream their pants or scream and run. for one the entire sky was like, starting to compress together at the horizon. so much so that within the dream I actually thought that it was a tidal wave from the ancient beyond coming to fuck up our shit, but no it was the sky, and then it started compressing together and uncompressing diagonally like imagine the sky as a gradient of blues and grays, and it made this /\ shape over and over and was just flashing shittons of colors and the horizon (which was partly the mall bc it was on the side of this hill, it was mostly the top of the hill that was the horizon) was all jagged, like at the drop of this david guetta song, it was exactly like that. mostly it was cool because it wasn’t actually doing anything to the land, I’m pretty sure it was just “approaching”. also I remember my mom was NOT FAZED by this thing, and I was just repeatedly taking pictures with my phone (my dream didn’t care that I was swimming and somehow also facing the storm holding my phone)    anyway we get to the other side of the river bc I’m not a terrible swimmer in this dream, and we realize whatever was “approaching” just “got here” because the mall and the hill was getting FUCKED. UP. and it was like these weird shockwaves kept hitting and tearing apart the dirt. bits of stuff kept flying across the river and hitting the other side super hard, we were lucky we didn’t get hit. and what I remember specifically was that all the fucking hexagon tables-with-umbrellas survived the damage and were just hurled across, making big dirt explosions wherever they hit.    so we’re on the other side, which has like this sort of dirt road sort of ascending, and the rest is this little incline that went down to the river and that’s where most of the damage happened, this road is relatively undamaged. so we go up and we get to the top of the road, which is where the sort-of-ascending road stops ascending, it’s this lil flat area, and there was a left turn there that was really sharp now that I think about it that led up to another ascension of the road, it’s hard to describe    we see :o it’s our car, which got thrown across the river and apparently landed unharmed. but here’s the thing, our car was really goddamn weird. it was like a van but the front was shaped like a truck, and the side door had a computer on the side of it, and I swear my brain’s image for this was dredged up from those smart refrigerators with computers on the door, bc that’s what the side of the car looked like. I took a picture of it too with my phone (at 1% which I noticed) bc holy shit how is this possible that our car landed safe. but the thing was that the car couldn’t actually drive.    so we get picked up by these dudes and pt 2 of this tidal whatever hits, and I specifically remember that it caused a full-fledged earthquake and our cartruckvan started sliding sideways down the road, which we could see from ascension pt 2 and one of the dudes was like “oh shit” and turned the car around, but it was too late bc a car coming up the road hit the cartruckvan and it just fucking flew up and away like it was in a 3D game with a bad physics engine, and we were like “well there goes our just fine car” and that’s all I remember so now onto dream 3

dream 3    this won’t be quite as long but it was much cooler in my opinion. so me and like 4 other people were exploring this house bc something was up with it. it was like midnight and we were exploring this abandoned house. it was probably haunted.    so we’re going and seeing various things that I forgot, but what I remember is I’m carrying with me this little tiny box of screws with like, 20 screws in it. it’s not very full. important later. so I keep seeing things that are open, or loose, or whatever, and I’m like “oh I can use my box of screws to fix this” and then I’d screw it shut. I didn’t have a screwdriver or drill, I think I just had rly good hands or something.    anywho we’re going through, and I’m fixing shit with my box of screws, and I specifically remember there was some other loose stuff that had already been fixed with screws, and I was like “what but I was gonna fix this” and one thing I remember is that we didn’t specifically know what exactly was wrong with the house, just that something wasn’t right.    and I go to climb underneath the house, and there’s like this sandy dirt material under it. so I start to climb down and I land on something and roll off to the side of it. I’m forced to be lying down right now bc of how low the ceiling is, and I realize it’s a fucking body I landed on, and it’s my fucking body. and as I realize it’s my body, my body just sort of disappears, and here’s where it gets cool/fucked. where my head was, poking up from the ground, are two fucking screws and they’re coming up in different directions towards each other made of x shapes. and when my body disappears, across the ground under the house (which is lit somehow, it was a dream) I could see there was a really long series of screws doing the exact fucking same thing    so here’s what I theorized in the dream within about half a second: we’d been looping through time, and continually exploring the house again and again. I was repeatedly fixing things with my box of screws, which is why there was already screws in some of the stuff when we went through the house.    every single time, I’d drop down into the space below the house. the first time, I crawled across and then some eldritch horror in the sand had taken two screws from the box of screws and screwed me through the head. the second time, I crawled across but then found my body and then got screwed through the head before I could figure it out, and my old body disappeared. this continued in sequence (there were like 10 other sets of bloody screws) and eventually I couldn’t have crawled anywhere at all, which is when I got screwed in the head (haha screwed in the head) and then the next iteration (this iteration) I dropped down and landed on my own body.    basically my own dream thought up by my own head fed me a fucking plot twist. so then I radioed to my friends that hey we’re looping through time, which I don’t think I’d had time to do in the previous iterations, and I’m gonna die in a few seconds. my pov switched to one of my friends as they heard this through like, a walkie-talkie which we all had, and then I was third-person viewing myself and I didn’t really see the screws get forced through my head, bc I wouldn’t have been able to see it when my head was against the ground, but I did see myself die.    and then I’m p sure the dream ended bc I don’t remember what happened afterwards, but I was really in shock when I woke up

[fiercyy]

Till Death Chapter 1/?

Co-authored by @holyfuckabear

This fic began as a bitchfest between me and B. It morphed into an actual story, with plot, characters and world building. Go figure. With only mild disrespect to Kubo’s vision, we present a reimagining of Bleach.

@ichirukimonth for the prompt Agent of the Shinigami + Soul Society Arc: Chapter/Episode Tag

Summary: Seventeen-year-old Ichigo Kurosaki has become a superhero overnight. This entails a lot more oversight than he was lead to believe there would be. Is this his life now? Being stalked by some tiny woman, hellbent on bossing him around?

(For the record: yes.)

 A canon rewrite fic.

AO3

Spring is supposed to be a time for new beginnings. Plants peak out of the earth, cherry blossoms fall, a new school year begins and it rains every other goddamn day.

Seventeen-year-old Ichigo Kurosaki hates the rain. It makes his skin itch and his hands clammy. The worst days of his life are tied to drenched shoulders and tears mixing with rainwater. When it rains, more than one kind of ghost comes out to roam. And ghosts have a way of finding Ichigo.

Ichigo is about to learn a little more about the world. From here on out, everything changes. But for today, he feels...

Amazing. It’s the only word to describe it. There is a rhythm to fighting that Rukia cannot replicate in melody. She hums as she attacks. Her legs step to an unheard beat as she flies to and fro, perplexing the dumb creature. It roars and her heart does an internal aria.

Rukia has always been meant to do this. Most days she thinks it’s the only thing she does well. Hollow, merely a whisper in the wind now, she turns to the frightened spirit crouching by the mailbox and thinks, well, maybe not the only thing.

She is not a nurturing woman by nature, but she does what she can to soothe him. Rukia likes the feeling of heavy hands on her head, fingers ruffling her hair, memories of a bygone age. So, she does this for the child-spirit. He seems to take comfort before she releases him to the next life. She hopes that he will not be hungry. She wishes him weakness. Rukia looks up and around her when it’s done. The humans mill around, none the wiser for having narrowly escaped a soul-sucking death. For a moment, she thinks she makes eye-contact with a bearded man in a white coat and quickly realizes that she imagined it. His eyes skip over her and he continues his stroll down the street She has been in Karakura for a week. It isn’t loneliness per se but she feels distinctly invisible. Her voice has started to hoarse from disuse. That’s why she started singing to herself as she fights. No one can hear her anyway, who would mind?

“Ichigo.”

Ichigo squints as he stares into the sun. “What are you looking at?” asks Tatsuki, around a mouthful of kebab. He blinks to adjust his eyes and shakes his head, trying to shake off the strange feeling of being watched. “Nothing.” There was no black butterfly on the horizon. There was no one atop the telephone pole. He’s just tired. That’s what he tells himself.

Ichigo tells himself a lot of things. Especially these days.

That is to say, it looks like he’s talking to himself. Like. All the time.

What he’s really doing is chatting with the weird old cat lady spirit who refuses to leave until the last of her cats are adopted from the pound. Despite the fact that they ate her corpse. He knows this detail because she tells him every time he passes the shelter.

Sometimes it’s not Mrs. Hojou, but Mina, who is creepily keeping her eye on her ex, who moved on too quickly for her tastes.

More often than not it’s Mr. Agano. Ichigo doesn’t know what his deal is but he seems lonely and spends every Tuesday following him around. He learns very quickly to schedule things that require concentration on any other day.

Ichigo works his life around the drifting strangers who can’t seem to leave him alone.

This is how he notices that something is amiss.

He spends next Tuesday alone.

Raito, the teenaged boy who lives beside the river is gone too.

The ghosts of Karakura Town have slowly begun to disappear.

It takes him weeks to realize why.

Someone is singing. It’s a song that’s been playing on every radio lately and god is he sick of it. Whoever it is, she’s basically screaming it between grunts.

Ichigo rounds the corner and sees her. And it.

Holy shit.

A fucking monster the size of a city block is snapping its jaws at the ghost who he brings flowers to. The white of its mask is stark against the clear blue sky. Its black leathery body moves with speed that belies its size.

Between Ichigo and the beast is a girl.

She leaps out of the way just in time to avoid the monster’s fist come down and leave a crater in the ground. She does a backflip over it, draws her sword and HOLY SHIT DID SHE JUST FUCKING FLY?

Wait. Stop. Rewind.

This is the moment that Ichigo Kurosaki’s life changes forever.

Rukia Kuchiki is 4”10, pale as seafoam and as deadly as anything he’s ever seen. And she is singing about love and bunnies at the top of her freaking lungs.

This is fate, but he doesn’t know that yet.

With a slice of her katana (?!?!?) the thing is neutralized. She is still singing.

Ichigo is mildly aware that he is gaping. He looks around to see if anyone’s around, if anyone else is staring. There are, but none of them have so much as fliched. Well, he supposes that he’s used to seeing things at this point.

It is in this moment that Rukia looks up and the tune ends. Her brows furrow as if squinting into the distance. Their eyes meet and Ichigo remains frozen in place. She opens her mouth as if to say something but a roar cuts through the air.

And then she’s gone, as if blurring out of existence.

Huh.

That. was. weird.

Ichigo arrives home to a kick in the face. Literally.

“Where the hell have you been?!” His father demands, putting him in a headlock.

“I ran into some ghosts okay? What the hell was I supposed to do?!”

“Oh, so it’s the ghosts’ faults huh? I bet it’s a ghost’s fault that your room is a mess, huh?”

While they shout each other down, the two girls at the table sigh simultaneously. Karin, the younger one, spoons more rice into her bowl and pretends she can’t hear them. Karin pretends that she can’t hear a lot of things.

“You’ve got another one Ichigo,” she mutters.

“Huh?” an older gentleman appears over Ichigo’s shoulder. “When the hell did you get here?” He tries to wave him away. He’s done with spirits for the day, thank you very much.

“I wish I could see spirits,” sighs Yuzu, “I mean, I can feel them sometimes but-”

Karin is kind of glad she cant. “I’m not even sure they exist.”

“How can that be? Can’t you see them too?”

“I’m in permanent denial. Just because I can see them, doesn’t mean I believe in them.”

Here’s the thing about breaking and entering. It doesn’t count unless someone sees you.

And no one in Karakura Town can see her.

Rukia has developed a kind of selective hearing. She moves through the world of the living while ignoring the living. In the beginning, she’d look up if it sounded like someone was talking to her, but no one ever was. Slowly it got easier to tune it all out.

It’s been peaceful. The 13th division is so loud. And it’s a different kind of quiet than the Kuchiki mansion.

So when she walks through the wall and lands in the middle of a bedroom that smells like dirty socks and cologne, the last thing she expects is to literally have her ass kicked.

“How strange. You look normal, but you must be defective in some way,” she remarks while examining him like a specimen on a slab in Squad 12.

“I’ll show you defective!”

Rukia tries, she really does. Humans are very strange and this one is not very receptive to simple explanations. Are they all slow, or is it just this one?

And then he touches her hair and ohhhhh was that a mistake.

“Bakudo #1, SAI!”

“What the hell did you do to me?!”

“Don’t struggle, it’ll make it worse. I might appear young to you but I have lived nearly 10 of your lifetimes. I would kill you on the spot if it weren’t against my orders,” a lie, but on some level she thought it might be fun to rattle this one. “Now shut up, you little brat.”

It’s only after she brings the hilt of her sword down on the wayward spirit that she realizes she’d scared the human. She feels bad for a moment but presses on.

“Now, for why I’m here. I’ll explain using small words.”

And maybe some informative drawings.

So you know those days, that change your whole life?

Ichigo Kurosaki is having one of those days; a terrible one.

His hands are free from the kidou but he’s still helpless. Yuzu is unconscious in the house somewhere, Karin is unmoving in his arms and this tiny woman who sings bad pop songs while she fights is dodging around the grappling fists of what she calls a hollow.

The hollow had said that it wanted his soul. It was looking for him, all this time. He brought flowers to a ghost and that made her a target. This thing has been following him all this time, but why?

The same reason it took Karin but not Yuzu; they can see it. Something deep inside them calls out to these creatures. Like a dinner bell.

The hollow grazes the shinigami’s side just as she gets what looks like a critical hit. She skids across the street as she falls.

Intellectually, Ichigo has seen what she can do. She might as well leap tall buildings in a single bound. But she’s so small, and every instinct he has tells him that makes her someone he should be protecting.

Ichigo glances around for a weapon. To his right there’s a folding chair from the clinic. He picks it up and darts over to the beast. Maybe he can distract it, maybe he can help.

He knows he can’t, but maybe if it takes him it’ll leave his sisters alone. “HEY!” he shouts, “You want me? Come and get me!”

The hollow obliges.

So does Rukia, although, less happily.

She disappears from behind the creature and reappears in front of him, just in time for the monster’s jaws to clamp around her and her sword, instead of him.

“You idiot!” she shouts in pain.

He feels blood on his face. He doesn’t know why he’s thinking about this, but it’s surprisingly warm. He didn’t think a goddess would bleed.

With a surge of strength, the girl shoves the hollow back. It has a large crack down the center of its bone white face. She clutches at her wound and crawls to lean against the crumbling wall of the clinic.

“Oh I am going to kill you when this is over,” she promises with a wet laugh.

“Go ahead and try,” he jokes. He’s trying to stop the bleeding but his hands aren’t big enough.

The hollow looms.

Her sword clatters to the floor beside her. Ichigo dives to pick it up. His right-hand wraps around the grip. It’s surprisingly cold. It chills him to his bones. He tries to lift it up to defend them from the advancing monster but it’s too heavy. He physically cannot budge it and the more he tries, the colder the sword becomes; until it burns.

“Ichigo, do you want to save your family?”

As she says his name, he realizes that he doesn’t know hers.

“Shinigami-”

“Rukia, my name is Rukia,” she sighs and looks at the hollow, still trying to recover. “Will you do whatever it takes?”

“I’d do anything.”

“Then you’re going to have to trust me. I’m sorry.”

And then.

And then.

The pain radiates out from his chest, into every nerve ending. But it’s the sweet kind of pain that builds to a crescendo and releases with a breath.

Black robes swirl around him. In his hands is a sword.

Somehow he knows exactly what to do.

In the morning he wonders if he dreamed the whole thing.

But then she appears in homeroom.

His classmates’ chatter turns into a faint buzzing in his ears as he looks down at her. Her voice is saccharine, she bats impossibly thick eyelashes. With her slight form and girlish voice, she looks harmless, introducing herself to the boys using outdated and formal Japanese.

The illusion is shattered by a glance at the palm she’s held out to him. Smeared already, black ink spells out:

‘Make a scene and you’re dead :)’

Charming.

His lips form around the word, “You.”

Her smile is sinister.

Notes:

Here is a list of some changes you can expect from this reboot:

Rewriting the rules of the universe so they’re consistent and make sense.

Ichiruki

Ichigo’s family backstory is different

Aging up the characters a little, they’re now 17 at the beginning of the series.

The gang’s dynamics are going to change and include Tatsuki

Speaking of Tatsuki, the characters who really should have had some spotlight are going to get some.

We’re culling the cast of thousands so it’s manageable.

Stakes

By this we mean rising action, realistic powerups, and escalation that does not get out of control.

Rukia gets the goddamn arc she deserves.

Reducing the length of and amount of fight sequences.

Soul Society is basically completely different, don’t worry Ichigo will be the layman and Rukia, your exposition fairy. JUST LIKE CANON!

REAL SORRY IF YOU LIKE KON SUCKERS

[kakiokuru]

NOBORIZAKA: NOVEMBER RAIN

Chapter Six | Close Calls

“You absolutely sure this is the place?”

“That’s what my trackers indicate, yes.”

“Aquarium? How tacky.”

“Wonder if they actually have fish… I want to see fish… Eat some too. Maiyan, I’m hungry!”

“Always thinking with your black hole stomach... You’re so noisy.”

“Let’s go.”

Exactly four weeks had passed from the day Miona arrived from her attack. Mai had planned, stressed, gathered every detail she could about Majijo and their missing leader. All sources pointed to her working at this hostess bar, still maintaining her leader status. Even if they couldn’t start a fight here, simply putting out a declaration would be enough. Mai had more than a few choice words for the absent leader and her train wreck of a team.

The rag tag team of six rode the cramped elevator up and stood at the door of the thriving hostess club, right at the beginning of their evening. Some customers had already gone in, taking their pleasures as they saw fit. Mai couldn’t help but to think how disgusting a place like this was. How completely degrading it was for a yankee and a woman. To think Majijo had stooped this low.

“Reika, what’s the deal on this place?” Yumi nudged the girl with her elbow.

Glancing down at her tablet, the student body president tapped her screen and swiped up a window of text to read from. “The summary of it is that Majijo was in an appalling amount of debt that threatened to close school down. So Rappappa, uh, the top fighting team of the school, and some other girls dropped out and opened a hostess bar to raise the money to keep it open. Suffice it to say, they made their goal.”

“So, they sold their bodies? Tramps.” Nanase couldn’t help but snicker at the thought. “Wouldn’t giving up be easier?”

“Well that’s not far off… I have it here that–”

“Enough. We’re going in.”

Leading the pack, Mai crossed her arms, holding her head high as she strode inside. The scent of alcohol smacked the barely legal group in the face as the doors closed behind them. Bright, flashy lighting could be seen just down the hall, contrasted with red and black seating.

“Uwaaah~ Maiyan, it stinks!!” Kazumi’s face dropped in disgust as the group made its way down the hall, pinching her nose to shield herself from the stench of alcohol and intense perfume.

“Perhaps the fish in the aquarium have already died and rotted, typical of a Majijo girl. Never living up to the hype.” Nanase tilted her head to the side, looking at Mai as she added to Kazumi’s statement.

“Don’t assume things too early. Hostess or not, this girl lasted two minutes against Salt.” A record indeed. Most opponents were downed in thirty seconds or less, but this Sakura girl was durable, even if she lost.

“All of you, honestly… You’re being rude.”

“So? We’re yankees who gives a shit?”

Mai stopped in her tracks, turning on her heel to look at the group and looking each one in the eyes. For the first time, she almost resembled MaiMai, regarding her teammates like children she was looking after. “We’re meeting someone dangerous. Someone we plan to either fight or declare war on. You’re all going to keep your mouths shut. You’re all going to be respectful. You will all stay at my side and not touch a single thing in this building. We’re representing our school. MaiMai. We’re honouring a fallen classmate. Do not fuck this up, please.”

Erika looked to her leader for the first time with a sense of pride, smiling as she spoke. The rest, however, deflated like balloons. But none the less, they continued after their leader without a word.

The music grew louder, drowning out any chances of hearing conversation. There was glitter littering the floor, tacky decoration pieces on every inch of blank space in the showroom floor. And the smell, god the smell. How could anyone breathe with this disgustingly stuffy air? Despite it hardly being evening, many men were already intoxicated and tossing money at girls who were over dressed and far too friendly.

However, as soon as a blacksuit approached them in question, Mai wasted no time or words to get right to business.

“The top here, where is she?”

The music cut out, everyone stopped and turned to look at the group of intimidating, actual high schoolers. The air in the bar all but completely changed, immediately filling with tension. Mai took a step forward, taking charge of the group, the rest standing at her heels. “Sakura, where is she–”

“Ahh, Maiyan! Look, fruits!” Kazumi bounced off to the table five feet over, kneeling down and eyeing the tray of colourful fruit. She took a tiny, plastic sword, stabbing a chunk of melon and popping it into her mouth. “They’re fresh!”

“Whoa, wait hold up. A lot cute girls here. We can hang around for a while, right? You don’t need all of us. I’ll just sit over there for a while. Thanks!” Yumi scurried off to the nearest empty seat and claimed it as hers. “Well, hello there.”

“Figures you would find interest in girls who bedazzled their chests with too much glitter. Control yourself, pervert.” Nanase called across the room, aimed directly at the fevered teammate.

“Oh, come on, Nanase, don’t tell me you didn’t look either.”

“I never look at girls like that.”

“Liar~ You’re doing that thing you do when you lie! Holding your breath and puffing your cheeks!”

“Kazumin…!!”

“You’re single, aren't you? Go enjoy yourself. Like always.”

Mai turned to her quickly dissipating group, her eyes widening. “G-Guys!!” Her brow furrowed in irritation. Kazumi and Yumi were already long gone. Reika eyes were glued to her tablet as she took photos where she saw fit. Even Nanase seemed to have little to no interest, picking at her nails in irritation. Erika was the only one who seemed to have every intention of staying at Mai’s side.

“You’re fucking kidding me…”

“Are you really surprised, Maiyan? It’s a wonder why you even invited them.” Erika crossed her arms, sharing her leader’s annoyance towards her comrades. She stepped up and took her place at Mai’s side, as she promised. “Keep your head high, just us is enough.”

“You asked for me?”

A girl in a sparkling, pure white dress and a tiara on her crown made her way to the pair of girls, heels clacking against the tile to signal her entrance, and emerging from the small crowd like a shark in the shallows. Her eyes did not fit her appearance; even her aura seemed more than she what appeared. She truly fit her pseudo persona, Same. Shark. There was no denying, this girl was secretly a yankee.

“How rude of you, making me seek you out a second time.” Mai held her defences high, staring at the former yankee down. “You sure are a troublesome leader, off doing whatever you want.”

“My apologies. I didn’t realize there were still stupid yankees willing to pick fights with my former school. I’m not a student there anymore, and this is no place for yankees. Please leave, children are not welcome during business hours.”

“We are of age. One of your underlings attacked a student of our school. Our school is a private academy, not a yankee girls school. This wrong cannot be overlooked.” Erika stopped Mai from interjecting, holding her arm out in front of the leader. “The girl was only a first year, she couldn’t defend herself, was badly hurt, and her uniform and handbook were forcibly taken. As your school’s leader you must answer for those crimes.”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m graduated.” Sakura stared at the group with cold, uncaring eyes. Even she could tell these were not proper yankees. This was hardly a team, already seeing that two of them were off in their own business and one clearly incapable of throwing a proper punch. These girls had no idea what they were trying to start. Any war they started, Majijo would stop in an afternoon.

“Actually, you dropped out.” Reika raised a hand, jumping into the conversation. Everyone snapped their attention to her. She hid the bottom half of her face behind the tablet, shy from everyone’s staring. “What? I’m simply stating a fact…”

Mai took a deep breath to clear her head, growing increasingly more irritated. “Anyway, your school has no top. You never passed that torch, so either fight me one-on-one or… Noborizaka will take over Majijo.”

“Go ahead. I’m sure the slaughter of your pathetic rich princess school will be fun to watch.”

Mai was taken back by the girl’s words, her eyes slightly widening to the insult flown their way.

Even Yumi couldn’t ignore the slander spewed from the hostess in white, immediately rising to her feet and returning to her leader’s side. Her eyes narrowed at the flashy girl in front of her, glaring daggers into her made-up, blemish free face. “Who the hell do you think you are?” She growled under her breath.

Nanase pushed through the team, grabbing the snobby girl by her fake pearls. “The fuck did you say? Washed-up, trashy, one-dimensional piece of shit. Majijo is nothing now. I would know, I already made it to the gate easily. You have no defences. If we wanted too, we could take that piss poor excuse of a top school with no trouble at all. Just as we are.”

“Ah, you’re the girl who caused trouble last year and walked away. Couldn’t commit? That a common problem for you?”

Nanase’s eyes darkened. Like a volcano, all that pent up anger bubbled up at once and exploded into a fit of rage with just a few little words. The angered scout raised her fist and swung it at the hostess only for her fist to be caught in Sakura’s manicured fingers. Nanase was known to be fast, faster than any other fighter. If someone caught even her hand, everyone knew it was because she let them, wanted them to. Just as soon as she saw her hand being grabbed, Yumi was on the scene, pulling Nanase back by the waist before the enraged girl could land cheap jabs on the hostess.

“Don’t. Let the leaders handle it.” Yumi scolded her in a hushed tone, pressing her face against the side of her head to whisper in the girl’s ear. A familiar scene, Yumi’s arms snaked around Nanase’s frame to keep the girl from letting her temper control her. Yumi knew she was probably the last person Nanase wanted defending her, but Yumi was the only one strong enough to stop her. “Now isn’t the time. She’s just trying to set you off. You’re smarter than that.”

Sakura smirked to herself, watching the scene. “You really are all children…” She spoke with amusement, her heels clicking against the tile as she came face to face with the opposing leader. “If you want a war, go ahead. But I have no stake or place there anymore. All I can offer in my warnings and premature condolences.”

Mai glared at her in response, her gaze unwavering. This truly meant war. Sakura wouldn’t fight her one on one so the only choice left was to take down Majijo themselves. The first strike had thankfully been stopped in a call closer than she felt comfortable with. She would have to scold Nanase later, but for now, more pressing matters must be tended to.

“Thank you for your time.” Erika grabbed Mai by the hand. “Let’s go, it’ll be curfew here soon.” Even if they were yankees, they had school rules to follow like normal students. “That means everyone.”

“Fine.” In a huff, Nanase jerked forward, forcing the yankee off. “Didn’t want to stick around in a sleazy place like this anyways. Come on, Kazumin.”  

Kazumi, whom had been stuffing her face with fruit the entire time, perked her head up from the booth when she heard her name. “Ah, yeah, coming!” Carefully climbing out of the now slightly sticky seat, Kazumi hugged the still full fruit bowl as she charged after her group of friends to the elevator. “Anyone want some?” She pulled from her pocket a handful of tiny, plastic swords. She was only given a tired staring as a response while the elevator door closed.

Reika sighed, recording the outcome of the confrontation into her notes. “Well, that went well. So what’s the plan now? Clearly Miyawaki-san doesn’t want any part of this. The gall honestly, you’d think she’d take more responsibility.”

As the door closed, Mai wasted no time dropping her cold leader face. “We’re going to war. Sakura says they don’t truly have a top, then it's time for us to take over in Noborizaka’s honour.” Her voice carried a weight of pride with her aura intensifying to match. “Reika, research every girl. I want a strength chart, weaknesses, special information, all of it.”

“Understood.”

“Wakatsuki, save your strength. You’re a hard hitter; I need you at 100% so that means no challenges. Erika too.”

“Finally some good action.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Maiyan.”

“Naachan, I know she pissed you off but she isn’t our target. You’re fast enough to get in and out of Majijo unscathed. Channel that anger into the upcoming mission.”

“...Fine, Miss ‘Leader’.”

“Kazumin…” Mai looked over to the tall girl, who was a happy mess with strawberry seeds clinging to her cheeks. Kazumi was strong and a great fighter, she wasn’t the team's tank for nothing, but a pacifist at heart. Mai couldn’t force her to fight, it wouldn’t be right. “Just keep eating and cheer us on, okay?” Mai, for the first time in a while, smiled at her guard, patting her on the head, making a mess of her hair.

“Can do!!” Kazumi raised a fist in the air, bouncing in place with the brightest smile only she could show.

Mai stared forward as the doors opened on the first floor. “We attack at the end of the week. Rest up until then.”

To be continued...