#hi sorry yes so I have a habit to hoard my asks and get to them 300 years later

[devilisln-moved]

@spinxeret asked: “Am I safe with you?”

   “That’s such a loaded question,” Matt snorted softly. Fleetingly his composure slipped, the polite curve of his lips turning down into a faint frown. He was supposed to smile rakishly and tell her he was kidding, of course she was safe with him. Except that wasn’t exactly, accurate, now was it? “Let’s just say we’re probably both pretty dangerous for each other. I can only imagine why you chose me to address the matter.”

[rottmntsimp]

Hey! Love your writing! if reqs are open, would you be willing to write rottmnt Casey Jr x reader? Maybe something fully and/or cozy, like them having a lazy night or doing some housework or something? There’s such a drought of CJ content :c

Leisurely Love [Domestic Headcanons]

Pairing[s]: Casey Junior x Reader A/N: Finally posting after months of writer's block!! 💪 Anyway, sorry the order's a bit scattered 😅

Casey Junior

💖 - GAH I LOVE DOMESTIC HEADCANONS OK

💖 - Starting off with the kitchen <33

💖 - I've said this before in one of my earlier headcanons, but CJ does not understand the concept of good food. To him edible = food, regardless of taste or texture. "What do you mean it's burnt? It's still food!"

💖 - If you like cooking, you're in luck! He'll gladly be your personal taste tester!!

💖 - And with enough effort, care and love, my boy will be cooking you a small meal in no time!!

💖 - He definitely has a habit of hoarding things he likes

💖 - Back in the apocalypse, keeping things was a risk on its own, especially when you never know when you're gonna have to move.

💖 - But now that he's safe, my boy will keep anything and everything. You guys will probably have a drawer or two dedicated to things that remind of him of his family from back in the apocalypse, you, or just something really pretty :]

💖 - Baby boy loves gardening! Or at least getting to watch the plants grow :]

💖 - He doesn't exactly trust himself to care for them, seeing as the last few he tried to keep withered within a week.

💖 - But if you're into gardening or keep a pet plant, he'll gladly let you keep some around the house!! Hell, he might even help with planting some outside if you really wanted.

💖 - Animals, oh boy...

💖 - Personally, if not for the apocalypse, I feel like CJ would've LOVED dogs-

💖 - But due to his experience with the Kraang, some of them shaped like animals...best to say it'll take some time for him to warm up to them.

💖 - My boy has warm hands. How do I know? I just do.

💖 - If you have cold hands, believe me when I say he is never letting go.

💖 - He's not much of a cuddler, or so he claims. There's an underlying fear in his head that he might accidentally kick you or push you away in his sleep, so he chooses to instead just fall asleep facing you. It comforts him to wake up to the sight of you, messy or not.

💖 - Daily reminders that his life is not constantly at stake? Yes please.

💖 - Favorite place to kiss you? Your forehead <3 [We love a gentleman 😌]

💖 - If you're terrified of bugs, fear not!

💖 - Casey will kill them in the blink of an eye, maybe even pick them up and leave them outside if you ask.

💖 - When it comes to cleaning, he doesn't like to throw things out, as I said earlier.

💖 - He's the kind of guy to organize the mess instead of actually cleaning up. "Messy? But I know where everything is!"

💖 - When he discovers music, it's like his eyes had just opened for the first time. Help him go through this journey please.

💖 - Introduce him to your favorite artists, help him find his type.

💖 - Eventually, this will become "your" thing.

💖 - He will run over to you, excitedly rambling on about this new song he'd just listened to, before making you listen to it too, saying how "-you've got to listen to this!"

💖 - Lazy days consist of introducing him to modern culture!!

💖 - I'm talking memes, shows, films, games, everything- Hell, consider it a sleepover at this point, because my boy is willing to give anything a try. Show him the wonders of the modern world ♥

💖 - Now if we're talking about the FAR future? I'm sorry, but he does NOT want kids, adopted or not.

💖 - He saw how much of a handful they could be back in the resistance, and he'd be dead by the time he admitted wanting that.

💖 - If it's any consolation, he might become more open to the whole pet situation.

💖 - Regardless, indulge in the poor boy's hobbies and interests please. Give him some love and you're bound to get some back <3

💖 - Anyway, 11/10 roomie/partner ♥♥

Taglist: @lemme-be-cringe-damnit@sleepytime-fics@ray-of-midnight-storm@hamthepan@charismakat@flapajacker

[sohcah--toa]

bullet train/マリアビートル details ~

Hello!! I recently dug up the Bullet Train script (if you search it up, you should be able to find it relatively easily!! I'm not sure if it's completely reliable but it seems to be the first version) and listened to the soundtrack. (It's awesome, you should listen if you haven't already!!)

There's a lot of stuff here about マリアビートル, I hope you enjoy reading 🥳 (It's really ridiculous)

-- 1 ) LEMON'S CHILDHOOD // BACKGROUND(??)

I attached a photo for reference in the book!! :D (there's highlighter marks, I'm sorry) His backstory is tragic and aahh noo 🥹... I won't say much on it because we're all thinking the same thing. In the script, this is carried over when Lemon passes out because of the water. But apparently, in the final movie, this isn't shown a lot. In the book and movie, they aren't brothers and have a considerably colder relationship, so I can understand why the childhood scene in the cut is so much more wholesome. (Still supersuper cool though!!)

-- 2) "I'm forever blowing bubbles"

The original reason why this song was chosen for Bullet Train was because of Tangerine's West Ham United sticker (turns out, that's a football club). Hey!! But wait a minute!! There's a funny coincidence because Ladybug in the book was trying to become a football star. He has a quote that's like "my friend told me that someone like me could either become a footballer or a criminal, so I did both" and he says that his first crime was stealing a football.

The song delves into themes surrounding fortune as well!! I love their music selection 🙇‍♂️😤

-- 3) THREE ASSASSINS/グラスホッパー REFERENCES

Okay this part (in a way...) contains spoilers for Three Assassins, which is the first book of the "series"! ! The story revolves around a guy named Suzuki, who appears again in Bullet Train!! He kinda-sorta becomes friends with Ladybug and it's like 😊 they are so happy. To be completely honest, Suzuki's a bit traumatised but so is Ladybug, right?? Lovely friendship!!

It's also so interesting that he's reading a hotel buffet menu because his wife used to love eating at buffets and he adopted the habit of hoarding all the food as well. He's on the train to meet with his dead wife's family (which was extremely difficult for him after her passing).

-- 4) BULLET TRAIN REFERENCES IN THE MANTIS/AX

There's this other book in the series called The Mantis or AX for the Japanese version. This one isn't talked about a lot but if you like family stories, this book is so so soo good. It really pulled at my heartstrings when I first read it but I can't say too much without spoiling everything. Anyway, it makes a few references to Bullet Train and literally starts with the main character, Kabuto (an assassin), having a flashback to talking to Tangerine and Lemon during one of his missions, where they had the same target so they worked together. The Twins really respect him, actually, but find it funny that he's so careful around his wife (YES KABUTO, AN ASSASSIN, HAS A WIFE). Some characters reappear so.. :")) yay!!

-- 5) 777

Ladybug comes back!! He comes back in the latest book in the series; 777. So far, the Japanese reviews have been pretty positive and I think there's an English translation coming in November!! 🥳 I like how the title is 777; 7 like 7 tails in Nanao (七尾), car 7, his favourite number is 7 (if I recall correctly), 7 the "lucky number".

-- 6) THIS GUY

No one asked but I heavily dislike the Prince in the book. (to be honest, who doesn't...) He's just mean for no reason and likes ruining people's lives, makes fun of poor Ladybug (this really isn't that bad compared to the other stuff he does) and yeah, the list goes on. Also apparently he (heavily) tortures other schoolmates and it's not like he gets paid for it like the Twins or the other guys. He just does it for fun?? OK!! The premise of his character is amazing and it's great to see a villain that's actually just straight evil but since he's designed that way, we are validated when hating him ww. He talks about politics as well for some reason... keeps referencing historical tragedies.... man.

-- 7) ASAGAO/THE PUSHER

The Pusher is back too!! Weee~ (not really)

In the movie, it seems as though this entire part got cut out which, like, is reasonable. I attached a photo from the Grasshopper (2015) movie for reference hahaha. The guy in the black suit is the Pusher!! Yeah, he pushes people!! (not in the fun way!!)

He is in charge of protecting Wataru from the Prince's guy, although he's reluctant at first. He's obsessed with bugs and stuff. Whenever he opens his mouth, it's probably going to be about bugs. The Pusher's also strangely poetic. Maybe it's because he likes old bands like the Rolling stones? Oh!! And he gets mentioned in The Mantis.

And speaking of the Kimura family, Yuichi Kimura says something very true and it's:

"who do they gotta make the train toilets so nasty"

-- 8) LADYBUG IS COOL

This is very much a fact. In Mariabeetle, he gets kidnapped when he's 8 years old because he gets mistaken for a rich kid (after he lost a bet with his wealthy friend and had to wear his "rich person backpack"), then in the place he's being held captive, he escapes by HIMSELF since his dad isn't able to give the guys money for his son back (since they took the wrong person!!). But heyy he's resourceful and smart.

AND guess what?? He gets traumatised because there was this other boy being held but Ladybug didn't save him and it's haunted him ever since. This is also one of the reasons why he ends up helping the Prince even though he knows it won't do him any good.

Obviously, it gets worse from there. He makes it back to his family and they're pretty happy. Unfortunately, they're far from rich and Ladybug has to study extremely hard to get into a college. Spoiler alert, he doesn't. THE THING IS!! He studied so hard!! It's just that during his exam, some kid sneezed on his paper and he wiped it, smudging all his work and even his name!! Nanao! No!!

-- 9) TANGERINE BOOK RECS

To the Lighthouse - Virginia Woolf

"We perished, each alone."

-> He really loves that quote. A lot. Also he's a Virginia Woolf fan!!

2. Forbidden Colours - Yukio Mishima

-> He's also a Yukio Mishima fan... I wonder if he's ever read "The Sound of Waves". What would he think about it? Hahaha this will keep me up at night 😅 (<- SLANTED EMOJI!!)

3. The Sailor who Fell from Grace with the Sea - Yukio Mishima

-> To talk about Article 41 of the Penal Code of Japan. (Mr Kotaro Isaka, the author, studied law, by the way!! It's interesting!!) However, here, Tangerine quotes Mishima on Article 41 ;)

4. Hemingway and Faulkner

-> Actually it's a collection so it's not really a book recommendation but these two people are real - Ernst Hemingway (the Old Man and the Sea guy) and William Faulkner. They didn't really get along, by the way, and even though they respected the other's work, they criticised more than praised. Sounds like the Twins.

5. Demons - Fyodor Dostoevsky

-> "Crime is no longer insanity, but simply common sense, almost a duty; anyway, a gallant protest."

I think the author is a heavy Fyodor Dostoevsky fan, just because he also referenced his works in Three Assassins.

6. Crime and Punishment ;D

-> "Science now tells us, love yourself before all men, for everything in the world relies on self-interest."

(CONT'D) yeahh this book was referenced in Three Assassins and one of the characters is obsessed with it. Glad to see that Tangerine is a fan too hahahaha.

-- 10) LEMON IS AWESOME

Opinionated text here but Lemon is plain awesome.

"Between the principal's name and Doraemon's gadgets, it was blindingly obvious which one was more important."

To each their own and I know he's a criminal but he seems like he has no enemies. Sounds very wholesome.

-- 11) HORNET THE MVP

She's in Three Assassins AND the Mantis!! Hypercool. In both books, the Hornet is a team of a male and a female. The female is eliminated (this word choice ww) by Ladybug but the male is still up and kicking, though Ladybug feels bad about it. They use poison needles, like the movie, but they trigger anaphylaxis, which is a really dangerous allergic reaction that causes body shocks.

-- 12) SUZUKI: PHILOSOPHER AND ECONOMIST

"If people knew that they might be killed by someone tomorrow, economic activity would grind to a halt."

... well 😅 take from that what you will.

(that's Suzuki!!)

Cela dit... that's all.... so long, I'm sorry. But thank you so much if you read until the end!! I hope you at least found it a bit entertaining!! :"))

[pinkprimrose05]

Can you do the whole favorite thing about them, least favorite thing about them, favorite line, brOTP, OTP, nOTP, etc. for Yuya?

Warning: Long post, contains slight spoilers.

I am so very sorry for long this stayed in the box- but thanks a lot for the ask!

Favorite thing about them: Why must you make me choose. I can't. I can't do that. There's genuinely too many things to choose from.

...fine, I can do honorable mentions. One thing that piqued my interest in the tomato son all those years ago was how layered his persona can be... if you squint. Or if you're like me and relate to him on a spiritual level. You see, at the surface of his character, Yuuya's your average protag boy: fun-loving, good-natured and full of innocent hopes and dreams-

Except, that's not all there is to it. Not even at the very start of the story. We see from the get-go how he struggles with the weight of past events and his own doubts and insecurities -which only gets more and more prominent as the show goes on- all while holding onto his smiles in defiance against adversity, and trying to help others do the same as well. Personally, I still think that this is a deceptively simple yet very powerful message.

Least favorite thing about them: Ah, that's a question I can't quite answer. You see, there isn't anything specific I dislike about him, as much as there's stuff I dislike that happen to him- as in, to his character. Like the last stretch of the Xyz and Fusion arcs. Those parts did irreversible damage Yuuya's portrayal- so much so that even I, known for being more forgiving of the story's flaws than most, was shaking my head in denial through the first, second, and third watch. Lord help me when I reach them in the fourth.

Favorite line: Quoting myself from the Yuugo version of this post: would it be cheating the question if I said there's too many to count? Because it's still true. I know for a fact that I'll mention a line here and then find another one I prefer not a day later- that's how it is with the faves, I suppose. For the sake of not leaving this empty, though, here's one quote that stuck with me longer than most:

"The dueling I've had up until now isn't something I made alone. Because everyone was there, I was able to make it this far!"

brOTP: Yuugo!

...Saw that coming? Yes? No? Look, Yuuya's the protagonist so he naturally has a lot of interesting friendships, some established, some made over the course of the show... and a few entirely hypothetical, like this one. What can I say? I just think they'd go great together. Picture this: two idiots with half a braincell between them, who meet each other proper and instantly click. And get on like a house on fire from there. Seriously, they're so different yet similar in so many ways, and I think that'd lend itself to a great mutual underdtanding between the two- almost as if they have some kind of telepathetic link (hmmm). Putting them in one room for extended periods of time will either result in the most fun sort of chaos or in talks so deep they both end up bawling their eyes out in each other's arms.

They're friends. Besties. Brothers even.

OTP: Look, I'm a bonafide vanilla when it comes to romantic ships. Fruitshipping is my first and main OTP in all media of interest, and the threatre kiddos get a badge of honor for being one of a scant few pairs that got me extremely close to crying on more than 1 occasion. That's more than can be said for... *checks notes* ...99.8% of the characters I know!

nOTP: Hmm... there's none that come to mind, honestly. I don't mind seeing Yuuya paired with anyone, as long as the ship is not inherently inappropriate and/or isn't portrayed in any weird ways.

Random headcanon: Thanks to certain happenings towards the end of the plot, Yuuya ends up developing the unconscious habit of hoarding things precious to him. He'll go to sleep curled up in the middle of a nest of blankets and pillows, surrounded by all his favorite plushies, random trinkets and gifts from friends, and of course, his pendulum and card partners (thank god in-universe cards are stupidly sturdy). The first time Youko chances upon him in this state, deep in the peaceful bliss of slumber, she stealthily snaps a photo and- huh? No, you didn't hear a thing. "Cuteness overload can be heard from over a mile away?" Pfft, nonsense.

Unpopular opinion: No idea how unpopular this may be, but... I don't get the claims that Yuuya's not a good duelist?

Several people point out that he relies on Action cards to stall out a duel until he can turn it around, and conclude that as such, he's less skillful than most of his opponents. That take confuses me more than anything; after all, isn't it in the nature of the Action duel rule that one must make use of the card scattered around them? They're not just there for show, nor are they solely used for their effects. And besides, it's clear that Yuuya's particular brand of entertainment dueling places heavy emphasis on the dynamic aspect, which is why he's always running around the field and trying to make a spectacle out of every move. That doesn't diminish his skill in any way I can see- he's just more inclined to using resources outside those in his deck, thanks in part to needing more combo pieces than survivability cards by virtue of using Pendulums.

Song I associate with them: Assuming any song qualifies, I'd say it's Future Fighter; because it's literally Yuuya's (and Reiji's) very own personal song. It highlights core aspects of their personalities through the lyrics- and what do you know, our boy has a very nice singing voice too! It was one among many highlights from the back half of ARC-V S1 to me.

Favorite picture of them: Look, I just want to see him happy. I think he deserves to display genuine joy more often. And the more sparkles the episode budget allows, the better! So with that in mind, here's a few of my favorite pics of the boyo.

....oh, you thought I could pick only one?

Bonus:

[tobiasdrake]

This is bad. This is so, so bad. We are so fucking screwed.

HAHAHAHAHAHA NO

I am not going through the Dweller Conscience Merging Portal with you. It's pretty clear that Aephorul's idea of helping you "forget" isn't going to be anything like what you're probably imagining.

Have fun lying on the bed of nails you've made for yourself.

Stop trying to ask Zale to overrule me, as if I'm beholden to his decisions. That shit pisses me off every time you do it.

You can't seriously think this is a good idea, Brugaves. Listen to the man. What kind of new life do you think he's going to give you? Because I've seen the shit he makes and it's all gross. Each and every bit of it.

I mean. If this is really your idea of freedom then you do you, I guess. I just. I can't fathom wanting to become a madman's latest flesh concoction.

So gross. So goddamn gross. I can't believe you're okay with this.

Aww, he's talking about us!

He's going to mutilate you into a flesh horror too, Erlina. It's his thing. It's what he does. Did you hear how approving he was over the Acolytes thicketing themselves with the Vampire Rose? That's the sort of thing he likes!

You already have power. You're, like, the most powerful Solstice Warrior ever born. What could you possibly need with more power.

You're hoarding, Erlina. You're making a deal with the devil so you can hoard.

Sorry, I've been muttering under my breath. It's a habit. I think we were just talking about how we can help you with your ephemerality problem. If you come with us, we might be able to help you find the finality you crave.

YOU SHOULD ADD MORE CLARIFIERS THAN THAT

Your flask hitting the Dweller knocked it for a loop but inflicted no permanent harm! Specify no permanent harm! RESH'AN!

GARL. WRITING CHECKS. You traded an eye for my dumb ass once already; Let's keep you off the table!

GARL NO

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no not Garl no no no no no no no no no no no no no no

Glad you guys are having this polite chat while my universe is about to crack in half, thanks!

If Garl isn't okay then that's a guarantee. Resh'an knows exactly how feral I can be about him.

I mean. Yes. But if you're dead when it happens then the new restored timeline would be free of your influence entirely.

Whether that's worth it is a bit of a moral conundrum.

GARL NO

WHY. WHY DO YOU DO THIS. JUST LET ME GET STABBED FOR ONCE. T-T

[twistedtummies2]

Ok so quick question. I saw an ask about Billy and how he manages to you know,… live by himself and there was a part that intrigued me.you said that a few years is close to a few decades. So here’s my question. How do you age giants in your story’s! I had this question stuck in my head for over 3 days and I haven’t been able too sleep since and it’s driving me crazy!!! Cause if Billy is around 18/20 years old, that means he’s been alive for over 30 years right? Maybe I didn’t understood it correctly or I’m overthinking it but it’s something that’s been intriguing me. Sorry big nerd at heart

GOOD question, Anon! :D When I first created Billy, among other things that have changed since his debut, I actually imagined that giants aged at the same rate as human beings. They were humongous, had heightened senses, and were more inclined toward predatory activity, but were still basically human in biology. HOWEVER, over time, I started to move away from that. There are two reasons why: first, because I've always liked the idea of giants - in general, not necessarily for TW specifically - being like a lot of other famous, mythical/fantastical races that seem to have extremely long lifespans. Two, and honestly more importantly...Billy canonically has this HOARD of treasure. He's technically about as stupid rich as someone like Kalim or Leona, it's just that in his case he didn't inherit it from some royal lineage. I think he got lucky, sometime after his parents disowned him, and, like, found this HUGE treasure in the human world and brought it to his newfound home above. And, being a giant, over time he's gathered more and more to add to it: until the events of his first big story, Billy had a bad habit of just taking things he wanted because...well...he wanted them. Yes, that IS ironic, given his hatred of thieves, and yes, that IS the point. Billy has learned his lesson, at least to some degree or another. Which only makes him dislike others who clearly have NOT learned even more. Bottom Line, if Billy aged like a normal person, then it would have taken him, say, five human years to get all that stuff by the time of "Friends in High Places." To me, that felt like a pretty hard idea to swallow. HOWEVER, with all that said, I didn't like the idea of Billy being, like, CENTURIES old, the way Malleus or Lilia are, for example. To me, that just didn't match the character. SO, I eventually reached a compromise...WITH THE POWER OF MATH! I decided that, for giants - AND THIS IS SPECIFICALLY FOR TW, NOT ALL MY GIANT-RELATED WORKS - they age three times slower than a normal human being. So, a ten year old giant would actually have been around for 30 years in human time, so to speak. SO...let's presume Billy was 18 years old when the characters first met him. (Which is my headcanon.) That means that, if you counted in human years, Billy would actually be 54 years old by the start of "Friends in High Places." This also means that, by the time any of his human friends reached a senior-level age, like, say 65 years old, Billy would still physically be no more than 21 or 22. And by the time a century in human time has passed, Billy will only be in his early 30s. This also means that, in the time since his parents disowned him - which I headcanon as being five to six years before the events of that story - anywhere between fifteen and eighteen years would have passed before any of the main characters ever even meet Billy. Not only do I buy that he could amass a hoard in that amount of human years more believably, but it also means he literally was probably around before a lot of them were even born. Take all that however you will. XD

[reigenismyhusband]

Sorry it took me so long to get back to you with an ask for this, but 3, 7 and 8 for the s/i ask game

-@woof-ships

https://www.tumblr.com/huntinglove/750959724458065920?source=share

(In case you need the link btw, i know its been a couple days)

it is totally fine!!! stuff happens no worriess !! :DD thank you!!! ask game is here !! and as a treat bc i already answered all these for ace (three, three and seven, eight) i decided to answer these for my stardew farmer s/i!! i havent posted anything about them yet but shane is on my mind today....i hope thats ok!!!!

for a small intro on them...tbh theyre just a stardew farmer thats Me lol i think i named them kiwi, they/them! i havent thought about them in a while but i love shane sm <3333 they are kissssiiiiiing 3 – Have you ever imagined any episodes or segments of your F/O’s source starring your S/I? If so, what did they get up to?

oooo yes! this is a bit tricky with stardew but i like to think about kiwi completeing the community center and helping shane after he loses his job!! i think itd send him into a spiral, and i like to think kiwi is there to help him out!!! 7 – Within canon, is your S/I considered a hero, villain, anti-hero or a regular citizen? How does this affect their day to day life and their relationship with your F/O?

the town definitely sees them as a mix of a hero/just some guy! they definitely helped save the town by driving out jojamart, but they are also the weirdo that digs in the trash and comes up to them just to shove their favorite gift in their face haha. shane sees them as the person who helped pull him out of the worst depressive spiral in his life - so in his eyes, theyre the biggest hero of them all. shane also loves kiwis weird habits like waking up at 6 am and coming home beat up from the mines (even if hes concerned and tries to get them to be more careful)

8 – How lucky is your S/I? Are they always finding themselves in complicated situations or danger? Or do they magically get themselves out of anything scot-free?

Oh Boy. as with the canon of stardew, this varies greatly day to day! sometimes kiwi is super lucky and other times they find themselves in the mines facing down hoardes of enemies and getting beat up lol. they always seem to make out okay in the end - even getting super injured and ending up at the doctors, they always end up okay the next day. they bounce back quick!

thank you so much for the ask!!!! sorry its about kiwi but i hope thats okay! maybe ill make a dedicated tag and post for them lol. rn mob psycho is too much in my brain haha

[statticscribbles]

Doodle

Summary: Newt/Reader; Soulmate AU,whatever you write/draw on your skin appears on your soulmates

All throughout school you’d catch doodles and scribbles on your arms; occasionally the faint sketch of some creature but mostly small flowers or magically drawn birds. You’d never figured out who it was during your time at hogwarts; but when you started working in the ministry; the drawings became a comfort, you often wonder if they play a role in your decision to work in the Magical Creature’s department. You don’t usually respond to the drawings, they either appear in places you can’t easily reach due to your clothes covering them; or you’re working on gathering information and trying your best to do research about the creatures everyone wants to destroy. You hate how wrong that feels and you take more comfort in the drawings of the creatures as if they’re being studied, not hunted; soon lists were added; odd ingredients or items. It was a silly habit but you found yourself buying the plants that were most commonly listed as well as keeping a small hoard of galleons for whatever kept stealing your soulmates. You’d never actually talked to him; but one day after he angrily scraped three underlines under ‘liquid seaweed’ did you draw a small frowning niffler next to it; you added a speech bubble and the words “that stung” colouring in the tears. The reaction was immediate; swirls and flowers and branches suddenly heated your skin, magically drawn on. It sunk in your soulmate never realized you’d returned the doodles; just that they had forgotten how much they’d drawn on themselves.

I’ve never thought I would have a soulmate all my time at ----------- I couldn’t ever remember seeing drawings. You frown and the gap in the sentence; you knew locations and names wouldn’t go through. You draw the niffler again; sitting on your wrist and adding a speech bubble filled with magic hearts I always thought you were too busy with whatever you do.

Research. He responds and draws a heart around the niffler.

You like nifflers? You ask and he draws another bunch of hearts before adding. They're cute but they steal everything shiny he adds a frown and you cross over it grinning as you draw yet another niffler holding a heart. They just want love is all; and all your shinies. You look up jumping when you see Thesues Scamander standing in front of your desk looking unimpressed.

“Sorry sir; what can I do for you?”

“I need the report from the incident with the grindylows from the other day. Murklow said that it could be a cover for a Grindelwald meeting.” You nod pulling your sleeve down and waving your wand to pull the report he’s asking for.

“Here you are sir; anything else?”

“Were you talking to your soulmate?” You flush a little at his question, nodding.

“Well if he likes nifflers as much as you; ask about other creatures?”

“Oh that’s a good idea sir!” You grin and he smiles softly.

“Call me Theseus, Y/N.” You nod, waiting until Theseus leaves and then scribbling on your arm a question that your soulmate leaves blank for two hours. Do you like magical creatures or are you like most others? You’re not sure what you’re expecting but you receive a paragraph along your thigh with only a few of the words blanked. You read through all of it twice grinning at how passionately he talks about how misunderstood most creatures are. You draw a niffler offering a heart out and then ask Have you read Fantastic beasts and where to find them? It just came out; I love it. You grin to yourself when a string of hearts answers your question. What do you think of the author? You chew your lip jumping when your boss calls you for a new case. You scowl at the information; most of the department still believed in the older information of most of the magical creatures. The new case was investigating a group of knarls that were nearing a muggle area. You spend the rest of the day gathering as much information about the area the knarls were last seen and what you’ll need to capture and relocate them.

Sorry work got busy; I love the author, he seems so kind and wonderful. You offer frowning when there’s no reply.

“Y/N!” You turn when you hear your name called and are surprised to see Thesues walking over.

“Yes?”

“You’re working on that Knarl case right?” You nod letting Theseus update you on the whereabouts, apparently the knarls were only in the muggle area because there’s a Jarvey that took over there home.

“A Jarvey.” You scowl sighing.

“Thank you Theseus; this makes dealing with it a lot easier; at least I can sort of talk to the Jarvey.” You roll your eyes and he grins.

“You off home now?”

“No; I’m off to go see if I can find the Jarvey; or the Knarls.”

“You think you can talk to them?”

“The Knarls yes; the Jarvey, hopefully.” You wave goodbye to Theseus as you take the floo network home.

Do you know about Jarvey’s? I have to deal with one soon. You wait for a reply as you pack a bag; drumming your fingers as you get no response before you apparate to the area that the report said they were in.

To catch one? You nod before writing yes. All you get is a half sketch half doodle of a niffler, with a heart and it making what you assume is a thumbs up gesture.

You groan waking up after having spent most of the night trying to convince the Jarvey to leave the Knarls alone and find a better home. You’d been called a bitch and vermin about fifty times before you’d gone to speak to the Knarls; the Jarvey had been offended enough to counter offer your idea of leaving the Knarls home to find a new one for himself. That was after he’d angrily scraped at your arm; almost tearing through the doodled nifflers.

You managed to agree to rehome the Knarls away from the muggle area; and even offered the Jarvey some moles you’d managed to gather before you’d gone to meet them. You’d gotten as close to a thank you as possible from a Jarvey and he even offered to come with you to the ministry to explain what you’d agreed with. You’d assured him while you appreciated it; you didn’t like the idea of him being captured. He’d then drawn a crude sort of star on your palm with a black marker he’d found and you’d returned to the ministry with the Knarls in a cat carrier with blankets charmed to stay warm.

“Good morning Y/N.” Thesues grins and you nod yawning.

“Late night?”

“Yeah; but I got the knarls.”

“You got the knarls?” He looks down to the case and you grin.

“And the jarvey?”

“He’s enjoying his new home and the snack I brought him.”

“You fed the Jarvey? And talked to it?”

“I mean I don’t know how much of a conversation it was; I was explaining everything going on and he kept calling me a bitch.” You shrug setting the knarls; which continue to sleep under your desk as you start to work up the report.

Did it go okay? You grin at your soulmates question, drawing a crude doodle of the knarls in the carrier. We all survived. Minus my pride. You don’t look at the response for a while finishing up the report and waiting till lunch to find your supervisor to ask about relocating the knarls.

The jarvey decided to knock me down a peg. Beside the explanation you doodle the jarvey with an angry face and a little speech bubble with the words bitch and vermin in it. The only response is a frowning face.

Since you know so much about magical creatures; where's the safest place for me to bring the knarls? You chew your lip hoping that wherever he describes won’t be blanked out. Suitcase. Or a large field with plenty of hedgerows; anywhere a hedgehog would live. You nod drawing a circle and question marks around the word suitcase.

“Y/N where are you off to?” You hold up the case, the knarls chattering at you and you frown.

“I’m sorry guys; I just have to have a quick chat and we can get you a nice big field and some new worm hunting grounds.” They chitter again and you sigh.

“I’m heading to drop the knarls off to a much better home.”

“Your soulmate give you advice?” Theseus grins as he walks up spotting the carrier in your hands.

“Apparently I need a suitcase.” You laugh showing Thesues the writing on your arm. He nods glancing from the knarls to your arm and back to you. He doesn’t say anymore simply turning away back towards his department. You shrug and leave the ministry building to apparate to one of your favourite spots in the countryside. You glance to the abandoned cottage before nuding the door open and opening the carrier to let the knarls wander out.

“There we are. Is this an okay spot?” You hum as the knarls seem to vanish. You make a note to check back on them in the coming weeks. You know you still have time for lunch but you decide to return back to the ministry to avoid rushing and being able to have a cup of tea in peace. You’re sitting in the lobby people watching when you can see a figure stagger out from the floo network and almost tackle Theseus to the ground. You try not to laugh when Theseus grins hugging the figure as the figure seems to hang limply in his grip for a moment before his head swivels looking around.

“It’s lunch right now.” You can hear Thesues’ voice and you note how the man next to him wilts. You try your best not to laugh at them returning to your tea before you can feel eyes on you. You don’t say anything feeling the faint scratch of a pen on your arm. Turn around and wave. You roll your eyes turning and waving. The man next to Theseus stares at the ground while Thesues moves towards you.

“Y/N. How’s lunch going?”

“You lost your friend.”

“My brother actually, Newt; come over here and say hello to Y/N she works in the department for magical creatures.”

“Oh; hello.” He walks slowly over extending his hand and you catch a familiar black star shape on his palm.

“Your soulmate?” You question and he nods.

“No clue what they mean by the star; but it’s nice to finally talk to them.” He grins slightly and you laugh a little nodding.

“What about you?” Thesues comments and you look down to your palm at the star shape.

“The Jarvey I talked to earlier. He decided it was a parting gift.” Newt steps closer to examine it; his fingers brushing over your palm; barely touching it.

“Is this the same jarvey that called you a bitch and vermin? I might have to have a word with him.” He mumbles and you try your best not to give anything away with how Newt keeps side glancing to Theseus.

“I was wondering; since you’re the expert here; I dropped the knarls off to a new area; and I don’t know if it’s a proper place for them..” You trail off and can see Thesues roll his eyes.

“You two enjoy your talk about knarls; remember lunch is over in twenty minutes.” Thesues reminds you and you nod waiting as he leaves before you look up at Newt.

“Hey.” He grins watching as you press your palms together to match the stars up.

“Your drawings are much better than my doodles of a niffler.”

“I thought they were very true to reality.”

“Is this why you mentioned a suitcase.”

“Yes; did it help you catch on?” he tilts his head and you gasp. He grins as Pickett pokes his head out.

“Not now Pickett.” Your hand drifts upwards and Pickett’s hands reach towards you and climbs on your hand.

“Oh. Hello there sweetheart. Aren’t you just the most impressive bowtruckle I’ve ever seen.” Pickett taps his little hands on your figner nails and Newt sighs.

“His ego is big enough; please don’t lie to him.”

“It’s the truth. No harm in reminding him. He really is incredible though. His leaves are a beautiful green shade.” You grin and Pickett taps faster on your hand before scurrying towards your shoulder as Newt reaches for him.

“Pickett no!” he scolds trying to grasp at the bowtruckle as he hunkers down  on your shoulder.

“Newt it’s alright; I can show you where the knarls are anyways.” He looks towards the clock and you catch your supervisor's attention.

“Yes Y/N.”

“I dropped the knarls off sir; is there anything else?”

“Oh good; we have two new cases one involving; what else were you going to ask.”

“Well sir; I’ve just found my soulmate and I was hoping-“

“Go home! Talk with each other. For Merlins sake Y/N; you have enough vacation days regardless of  the soul week you get to spend off. Go on.” He nods and you grin.

“Thank you.” You grin and Newt waves to him, you laugh a little when he falters and glaces to both of you.

“Theseus is going to kill me.” He grins and you quirk an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“Yes; I was just talking about how I finally realized I do have a soulmate and he all but demanded to see what we’d written. He lost it when he saw the writing; I guess I know why. He recognised your handwriting.” You smile at him nodding to the Floo network.

“Here; hold my hand.” Your hand twines with his as you step into the floo-place and close your eyes speaking the area of the countryside.

“Here we are.” You grin and Newt looks around.

“This seems perfect for knarls.” You grin back at him.

“Now may I show you the first option?”

“The suitcase?” You look confused and he grins holding his hand out. You close your eyes; you’re not sure why but Newt grins.

“Okay open!” you spot his face; halfway obscured by a young Occamy curling around his neck.

Support My Writing?

[utopianvoices]

past, present, future → b.chan

synopsis: Your best friend drags you to his high school reunion against your will, and never have you encountered such chaos. Alternatively, you go on the journey of making more friends, and a potential lover.

genre: high school acquaintances to lovers au; fluff, one second of angst

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 14.4k

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, kinda dialogue heavy (oops)

note: i am BACK with this mess of a fic. it took me too long to finish this, and i apologise for any shitty writing :3 thanks to my little babie @curanonemu​ for making sure i finished this and supporting me as usual muAH. new formatting on posts too weeeee (new year, new me fsdhfgs jk no)!! also, synopsis kinda sucks i’m sorry :P hope y’all enjoy! x

i.

You did not want to go for your high school reunion dinner. 

High school is a time for many that is either the best, or worst time of their lives. Forever friends are found there and painstakingly embarrassing memories are made in run down buildings with people you care about. Except, you didn’t have any such attachments. 

Those three years were nothing but a filler for you as you studied, helped out in the library, and hung out with one person you called your best friend. 

And on top of it all, it wasn’t even a high school reunion dinner meant for you.

The night the bomb is dropped on you, Changbin walks into the living room of the apartment you both share just outside the grounds of your university, and goes straight to the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of cereal because cooking and Changbin did not get along well. The apartment was way cheaper than the dorms your school provided, and it definitely did not have any nosy RAs who were just out there to torture students for their own viewing pleasure.

On top of all that, you could live with your best friend and not some random stranger who might very much as well be a psychotic killer. Perhaps, Changbin could have some questionable habits, like talking to himself in a baby voice while looking in the mirror, but nothing that threatened your life. 

You hear Changbin’s phone ringing from the kitchen as you aimlessly flip through the shows available on Netflix, deciding which new show you should watch and commit to, when your best friend’s boisterous laughter fills your ears. Used to the noise, you roll your eyes before increasing the volume of the TV, finally deciding to rewatch Sherlock.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re about to solve the known mystery together with Benedict Cumberbatch when Changbin walks in front of the TV, automatically eliciting a whine from you as you crane your neck left and right to catch a glimpse of the screen. 

“What the fuck, Bin?” You finally yell, frowning at the boy in front of you. Realising that he probably wanted something, considering the fact that he wasn’t moving till you asked him, you switch the TV off and settle back into the sofa, throwing him a death glare. “What do you want from me, pest?”

Something’s definitely amiss when you see Changbin shuffling his feet and looking at the ground, a guilty smile ever-present on his face. 

“Whatever it is, my answer is no,” you say distantly, leaning back into the sofa with crossed arms. “So give it up.”

“Oh c’mon Y/n! At least hear me out?” Changbin cries out loudly, dropping onto his knees with clasped hands. 

Heaving out a sigh, you slowly unfold your arms and lean forward, eyebrows raised as you nod at the poor boy in front of you. “I’ll hear you out. But don’t expect me to say yes.”

“Um...” Changbin starts, eyes darting around the room as he tries to find the right words. “So my high school friends are having a reunion dinner next week and I told them I’d go, but I also said I’d bring you along and they were too happy and so now I think you’ll have to come with me but-”

“Woah woah woah, a high school reunion party? Absolutely not.” 

It’s not like you had anything against his friends. You did have brief interactions with a few of them in high school and you knew they were pretty decent lads, but there was no way you were following Changbin to what was meant to be a friends’ gathering. 

“But why not!” Changbin whines, waddling over to you on his knees. “It’ll be really fun!”

“Yeah, fun for you,” you deadpan, staring at your pitiful best friend who has now resorted to throwing you puppy eyes. “They’re your friends after all, not mine.”

“That’s right. But they could be. Don’t you think it’s time you start finding more friends who are not me?” 

Changbin’s once pitiful eyes held something other than desperation at that moment; they held concern. 

It was true that you had no other friend other than Changbin. You knew lots of people, sure, but you wouldn’t call them your friends. With no friends to your name other than that one, it also wasn’t hard to guess that you never dated too. But all that mattered is that you were fine with it, right?

“You know that I don’t need any other friends. You’re more than enough for me. Truthfully, I don’t think I could deal with another Changbin in my life.” 

Your words incite chuckles from Changbin, but that doesn’t stray him from his original goal. 

“How about this,” he starts, opting to sit cross-legged on the floor because his knees were starting to hurt way too much. “You come to the reunion with me, and the moment you feel uncomfortable, we both can leave no questions asked. Deal?”

As tempting as that sounded, you knew it was not fair to cut Changbin’s precious time with his friends just because you did not want to hang out with new people. “That’s not fair to you.” 

Shaking his head, Changbin stares at you, the fire in his eyes clearly visible, and you know that he had made up his mind. “I don’t care. It’s either you follow me and we can leave whenever, or I don’t go at all.”

There was no turning back now. You knew that in the end, what Changbin wants, he gets. 

You sigh numbly before nodding your head in defeat, dreading the day that was to come where you had to leave the comfort of your apartment. 

With no warning, you’re engulfed in a tight hug by a nuisance chanting “thank you” a million times. You ease into the hug, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a light squeeze, before pulling back to see that he had a smile similar to the one on your face. 

“I guess you’re right about me needing more friends. I can’t be annoying you for the rest of my life, right?”

ii.

You’re once again reminded why you don’t go for social gatherings as you take in the various clothes strewn all over your room. 

“Hey- Woah, what happened here?” Changbin asks, bewildered at the sight in front of him. “It looks like a hurricane hit your room or something.”

“Yes, it’s called Hurricane Y/n Is Screwed,” you reply sarcastically, before sinking down into your bed in defeat. Looking up at your best friend, you decide to give it a shot and put on your most pitiful face. “Do I really have to go?” 

“Yes, you really have to go,” Changbin replies without sparing you another glance, as he sifts through the heap of clothes on your bed. “And get that ugly look off your face, please. It makes me want to barf.” 

Flipping your best friend off, you manoeuvre yourself such that you’re facing Changbin, and look upon him in curiosity. 

After what felt like forever, pieces of clothing are thrown at you, along with a reminder that you had three hours before you had to leave. 

“Three?!” You screech, causing Changbin to wince and cover his ears. “You should’ve told me earlier so that I have more time!” 

“What are you so loud for, you damn pterodactyl? And three hours is more than enough. We’re just going to a cheap restaurant a few blocks away because we’re all broke college students.” 

Huffing at your insolent best friend, you grab the clothes he threw at you and make your way to the bathroom, not bothering to contemplate his decision because you knew he had pretty good taste in fashion. In fact, half the clothes you had in your wardrobe were bought with him as your advisor, so you’re really in no position to criticise his choices.

You stare at your reflection and let out a nervous breath; you weren’t used to meeting new people, and there was no way you were going to be able to handle a hoard of newly turned adults. The last thing you wanted was to cut Changbin’s time short with his friends, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you make a promise to yourself that you’ll get through the night by whatever means. Even if it meant hours of torture.

Changbin, with absolutely no urgency, is sitting on the couch watching the fourth Harry Potter movie, when you walk into the living room, makeup half done and still dressed in your stay-at-home clothes. Boys, you think.

“I think I need to know who and how many people will be there,” you finalise, watching Changbin pick up the remote and pausing the movie at exactly when Cedric dies; poor chap. “ So that I can, you know, mentally prepare myself.”

“You really don’t, but okay. There’ll be nine of us, including you. Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix from the dance team, Jeongin and Seungmin from the baseball team, Chan from the swimming team, soccer team, and honours board, and Jisung who was pretty much useless like me.” 

“Wow.” 

“In my defense, you’ve seen all of these dudes at least once,” Changbin says, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, they’re all really nice and fun so you have nothing to worry about.” 

“Says you,” you mutter under your breath, before returning to your room to prepare for your doom.

iii.

The sign of the restaurant flickers periodically as you stand in the middle of the street with Changbin by your side. People brush past you as they hurry to meet their friends and families in the various restaurants lining the street, excitement evident in their steps.

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door. Immediately, a gush of warm air welcomes you, causing you to let out a content sigh.

“Hey Changbin!” A loud voice calls out from behind you, and the both of you turn in your place. The sight in front of you gives you equal amounts of anxiety and fear, as you wonder how you were going to handle the table of one, two, three… seven boys, including the embarrassment standing beside you, who was now busy doing some sort of weird wave in favour of a greeting. 

“Changbin, please,” you plead, burying your face in your hands as you willed for someone to transport you back to your apartment so that you didn’t have to face reality and stand next to your shameless friend. 

Chuckling sheepishly, your best friend finally stops, patting your back before walking towards the table at the back of the restaurant. “Oops sorry. Let’s go meet the rest!” 

Here goes nothing.

Reaching the almost-filled table, your eyes dart from face to face, trying to see if you could remember anyone currently seated in front of you. 

“Guys! This is Y/n, my best friend,”—at this, a few complaints erupt from around the table—”Gosh, fine. My other best friend.” 

Immediately, at least three people shout their greetings your way. 

“Hi Y/n! Nice to meet you!”

“Yo~ Changbin’s told us lots about you.”

“Y/n, sit beside me!” 

Exasperated, your eyes flit around the table, trying your best to smile at all of them (which honestly turns out to look more like a pained grimace). Luckily, there was one seemingly sane person present. 

“Shut up, everyone.” A boy with blue hair and sharp eyes shushes everyone. “Hi Y/n, it’s nice to have you here. I’m Jeongin.” 

At this, the once quiet table is back to chaos as complaints are directed towards Jeongin for sneakily introducing himself first. Taking advantage of the mess, Changbin guides you towards the empty seats and finally settles the both of you down. Now all the seats were filled, except for one empty seat left beside you. 

You’re about to ask Chanbgin about the empty chair, but before you can, he claps his hands, attracting everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone will take turns introducing themselves. Seungmin, you start.”

The sandy haired boy seated on the right of Changbin waves both his hands while bouncing in his seat, reminding you of a puppy. “I’m Seungmin!”

Next is Jeongin, who just gives you a small smile. 

Beside him, you see a blonde haired boy, what is up with the hair colours, who just smiles brightly, eyes shining brightly and freckles visible. “Hello, I’m Felix. It’s great to meet you!” 

Taken aback by the deep voice, which was a total contrast to his cute appearance, you’re unable to hide the shock from your face. This triggers a bout of chuckles from the table; it was probably common for people to display similar reactions when meeting Felix. 

Before pretty boy (that’s what you decided to remember him as) could introduce himself, the black haired boy resembling a squirrel interrupts him. “I’m Jisung!” 

You recognise him as the one who shouted when you and Changbin entered the restaurant, and you’re about to acknowledge him when you’re cut off. 

“Oi Han, it was my turn to introduce myself! Who allowed you to skip the line?” 

“I do what I want,” was Jisung’s response, and pretty boy looked like he was one push away from murder. 

Just as you’re sure that you were about to witness a murder, Changbin chides the two boys and breaks up the petty argument. “Just introduce yourselves without any nonsense, please.” 

“I’m Hyunjin,” pretty boy mutters sulkily, giving Jisung a death stare. “And I can dance better than Jisung.”

“You motherf-”

“And I’m Minho,” the last person introduces himself, successfully cutting off Jisung’s profanity mid-word. “Sorry, don’t mind those two. They’re like Tom and Jerry.” 

Smiling weakly, you muster up the courage to introduce yourself to the four pairs of eyes staring at you. Hyunjin and Jisung were busy having a staredown, while Changbin was eyeing the meat sizzling on the grill. “Hi, I’m Y/n, Changbin’s friend. It’s nice to meet all of you. Thanks for having me here.” 

And just like that, everyone is back to their own conversations, with Changbin piling the perfectly done meat onto his plate. You take in a deep breath and look around the table at the happy faces. 

This isn’t so bad, you thought, a little chaotic, but otherwise entertaining. 

“They’re overwhelming huh?”

Any effort to mask your bewilderment vanishes as you catch the knowing look on Minho’s face. A guilty smile blooms on your face and you nod your head. “Just a little.”

“I get that,” he starts, but soon enough, there’s a content smile on his face that shows his love for his friends. “But at the end of the day, I know that these monkeys will be there for me no matter what, so I guess it makes it all worth it.”

Smiling softly at his words, you almost coo at the light blush dusting Minho’s face as reality catches up to him. 

“Ahem anyway. How’s living with Changbin?” He clears his throat before changing the topic, instinctively putting some meat on your plate before helping himself, earning a grateful smile from you. 

“It’s not too bad,” you start, feeling Changbin’s gaze on you after having overheard Minho’s question. “Except sometimes, he talks to himself in the mirror and it’s pretty scarring.”

“Y/n!” Changbin whines as Minho guffaws beside you, nodding his head to your answer, clearly having witnessed that side of Changbin before. “Wait till Chan comes. At least he’ll support me.” 

At the unfamiliar name, you furrow your brows and the name in the form of a question tumbles out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Chan?”

“He’s not here yet,” Minho addresses your confusion, having heard your little slip up. “He had to oversee the training for the upcoming soccer match, being the captain and all, and apparently he had a tutoring session after. He should be here soon though.”

That explains the empty chair beside you. 

“Oh, he needs to get tutored after training?” You ask, feeling bad for the unknown boy. Having to absorb information after physical activities is torture. You couldn’t even focus after 40 minutes of gym. “That’s rough.”

At your assumption, a cat-like smirk spreads across Minho’s face. “Oh no, darling. He tutors after his training.”

There’s no way you’re to be blamed for the first thought that pops into your head after discovering that said Chan was responsible and smart. You’ve seen people struggling with just one extracurricular, and begging teachers for extra credits because of poor time management. 

So, it’s really not your fault that the first words that enter your head is, that’s hot.

Just then, the bell situated above the door rings, indicating that someone was entering the restaurant. You’re not bothered by it, until Felix’s deep voice fills your ear.

“Chan!”

It’s almost comical how slowly you turn towards the sound, blush threatening to fill your cheeks at your first impression of Chan, without even meeting him. And as Giovanni Torriano has once said:

Talk of the Devil, and he's presently at your elbow.

Your eyes follow the figure of the devilishly breathtaking boy walking towards your table. He’s still dressed in what you assume was his soccer jersey, black hair tousled from the wind and practice. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of that inappropriate thought and opt to stare at the bowl of radish that looked the most interesting to you.

“Hey guys!” Chan smiles widely at the group of friends, as a few of them immediately get up from their seats to greet him with their usual bro hug. He sets his things down beside Minho, and is taking his seat when he spots you. Confusion clear in his eyes, he looks around the table, silently asking for an explanation as to what a stranger was doing at their usual table. 

You realise his staring and try to introduce yourself, but you find yourself unable to form sentences as the reality of who Chan was hits you. 

The star swimmer of your high school’s swimming team, and the top student of every single year. He was the epitome of popular. Everyone knew his name, and apparently he had never missed one day of lessons or training. On top of that, he used to regularly tutor in the library.

“Oh, this is my friend Y/n!” Changbin pipes up, slinging an arm around you. “Same high school as us, and my roommate now.”

At this, the confusion clouding Chan’s hazel eyes clears up, and he turns to face you, extending a hand. “The one who used to carry thick books everywhere and helped out in the library right? I’m Chan!” 

Being the complete opposite of your best friend, you’re sure no one has ever noticed you in the library. You blend in perfectly with the shadows and shelves, and you didn’t usually help the students out, opting to arrange the books in the storeroom—the one small thing you could do to help out the aged librarian who brought you mouth-watering brownies every Thursday. 

The thick books, in your defense, was your attempt at trying to finish the Harry Potter series whenever you had the spare time. You never had to explain yourself because you never expected anyone to notice. Especially not the most popular guy in school who had a million other friends.

But there he was, in all his glory, eyes crinkled into crescents as he waits for you to shake his hand, seemingly remembering you when nobody else did.

A small nudge to your side from Changbin breaks you out of your reverie and you grab his hand, silently noting how soft they were. “Nice to meet you.”

Smiling at you, he gently shakes your hand before turning to the other boys, immediately making jokes and laughing along. 

“What was that about?” Changbin whispers harshly, eyeing you and Chan suspiciously.

“What was what?” 

“Chan remembering you! You’ve never even met before.”

Looking at your best friend, you shrug before reaching out for another piece of meat. “Beats me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to interrogate you more, when he’s successfully cut off by Seungmin. 

“Y/n! Tell us more about yourself! I’m bored of hearing about these idiots.” 

Jeers sound from around the table as you let out a nervous chuckle, aware of how everyone’s attention was on you. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself for extra confirmation. 

Yea!” Seungmin replies, nodding vigorously. “What are you doing now, and how was high school for you, and just everything!” 

Noting your hesitation, Changbin is about to step in to save you, but your hand on his thigh stops him. Looking at you curiously, he realises from your expression that you’re finally about to do what he had been nagging at you to do since day one of becoming your friend. 

iv.

‘Is it possible for a stomach to burst from too much laughing?’ is what runs through your head as tears stream down your face from laughing uncontrollably at another joke Jisung was saying. 

“Wait, I remember Changbin telling me that people used to refer to you as Baby Photos when you all played at the school shows,” you ask after you had recovered from your laughing fit, curiosity piquing. “What’s that all about?” 

At the mention of the familiar name, the boys let out groans and Hyunjin starts hitting Jisung. “It’s all Jisung’s fault!” 

“Basically, he somehow got ahold of all our baby photos and submitted it to the administration on behalf of us,” Changbin explains, rolling his eyes at the memory. “So if you see our yearbook, all eight of us have our baby photos instead of the actual photo we were supposed to submit.” 

How is that even possible?!

“We still don’t know how he managed to do that.” Chan answers your unasked question, shaking his head fondly at the ridiculous memory. 

At this, Jisung pipes up. “Everything is possible when you’re charming and handsome. You lot won’t be able to relate!” 

And you finally agree that the beating Jisung gets after was well deserved. 

“Restaurant’s closing in ten!” 

The owner of the restaurant, a nice old lady who had a soft spot for the boys, calls out from the back. She had already let all of you stay past her usually closing time, and even gave you some free side dishes, together with a loving chide about how the boys don’t come and visit her anymore. 

The screech of the chairs fill the place as everyone gets up, stomach and heart full from the meal and company. You smile to yourself, glad that you let yourself be convinced to follow Changbin because you had one of the best days in your life. 

“Did you have fun today?” Your best friend asks with a smug smile, already knowing the answer.

“Shut up,” is all you can say—a clear sign that you were admitting defeat. “It was okay.”

“That wounds me,” someone speaks up from behind you, having heard your conversation with Changbin. You whip around to see Chan clutching his heart and wearing an exaggerated hurt face. “I thought we had a connection.” 

“I-you, no, that’s not-what” you splutter, horrified at the thought of Changbin’s, and now apparently your, friends thinking that you didn’t have a good time with them. There was no way you could let them think as such when they had made you feel so comfortable, and have so much fun. 

Your stuttering and horrified expression does it, and Chan bursts into laughter. “I’m so sorry, it was a joke. But your face!” 

The guilt and regret is replaced with relief and irritation, and you smack his arm out of habit, something you always did to Changbin when he was being a pain in the ass. But as soon as you do it, you’re once again filled with regret because Oh my God it’s only been two hours, you’re not supposed to just smack people.

“Stop overthinking it, idiot,” Chan cuts you off, adding in a low tier insult to make you feel a bit better about your reflexes. “We’re friends now; all of us.” 

Friend to friends. Now that’s an upgrade.

You’re about to say something, when you’re cut off by Changbin screeching unceremoniously as he glances at the time displayed on his lockscreen (it’s a picture of the two of you making ugly faces—he refused to change it).

“Shit, we’re going to miss the last bus that leaves from here!” He almost shouts, grabbing his and your things. “Adios bitchachos!”

A snicker or two echoes through the empty restaurant at Changbin’s farewell, together with requests of bringing you the next time they meet.

“Make sure Y/n comes for the next dinner! Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not!”

Jisung earns himself a string of vulgarities from Changbin for that, as he guffaws and hi-fives Hyunjin. 

You’re barely able to say your farewell to the boys with Changbin dragging you out of the restaurant, but you manage to shout out a few words while waving. “Thank you for today! See you soon!” 

The bus arrives just as you reach the bus stop, and Changbin all but collapses on one of the empty seats from the running you both did. 

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re foul.” You’re staring at your best friend in disgust when he starts questioning you about the dinner, nausea forgotten. 

“So…” he starts, pivoting in his seat to face you, cheek leaning against his hand which rested on the seat in front of him. “For someone who was dead set on not coming, you sure looked like you had lots of fun.” 

Rolling your eyes at his words, you turn to face Changbin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Me making more friends?”

“Of course, of course~” he drawls, smirk ever-present on his face. “And who do we have to thank for that?” 

“And you ask me why I don’t listen to you or ask you for favours.” Turning your attention back to your phone, you open up Temple Run in hopes of keeping yourself occupied for the bus ride back; but Changbin had other plans. 

Whining, he snatches your phone from your hands and slips it into his pocket. “Y/n! Tell me everything!”

“What do you want to know?!” you ask, exasperated. “You were there literally the whole time.” 

“Yes I know, but I want to know what you think of all my friends!” Changbin claps his hands in excitement, leaning forward in anticipation. “Well, our friends now.” 

You can’t help but sigh as you prepare for the long bus ride ahead��but somehow, you don’t miss the sudden warmth enveloping you as you recalled the past few hours. 

“First of all, Jisung and Hyunjin are hilarious, it’s like…”

v.

Two weeks later, and you’re knee deep in shit. Not literally, of course, but you might as well be. 

It’s the infamous hell month in your university, where every student (regardless of major) has a shit ton of assignments and tests to complete, and the library is open 24 hours for poor souls like yourself. 

It’s two in the morning when you’re working on your second essay of the day. There are crumpled balls of paper all over your desk and surrounding your bin, courtesy of your pathetic aim. 

“You’re cleaning everything up later,” Changbin speaks up from across the dining table you both were sharing to get work done, tapping away on his equipment as he works on some new beat. “I don’t expect every ball to go in, but to miss everything? That’s some serious talent.”

“Shut your mouth, Seo.” Flipping your best friend off, you finally push yourself away from the table, stretching a bit before making your way to the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of ramen in hopes of satiating the beast growling in your stomach.

As you open each shelf, you slowly come to the realisation that you were completely out of snacks and food. Even the single frozen bag of peas and empty ice cream tub stares back at you in pity as you scan the fridge. 

Taking a breath to calm yourself, you slowly turn around to face your unsuspecting, so-called, best friend. Walking towards him, you knock the table a few times to get his attention.

He notices your presence, and removes his headphones to look at you quizzically, his full attention on your blank face.

“When were you going to tell me that you had consumed every single food item we have?”

It’s almost comical how quickly the blood drains from his face, as his eyes dart all around the room, skillfully avoiding you. If it were any other situation, you would’ve definitely laughed while falling onto the floor. But this wasn’t any other situation.

This was war.

And honestly, it would have been a war that you would’ve definitely won—if not for the loud sound your stomach just produced.

Narrowing your eyes at the accused seated a few feet away from you, you walk over to the countertop with your wallet, eyes not leaving Changbin for a second.

“I will deal with you when I am back from the convenience store.”

And with the sight of Changbin gulping imprinted in your mind, you slam your apartment door behind you and make your way grumpily to the 24-hour convenience store located seven minutes away.

vi.

The electronic chime sounds throughout the store as the part-timer throws you a friendly greeting from the counter. “Welcome!” 

Reciprocating with a smile of your own, you take slow steps towards the shelf with the various assorted packets of ramen, and your hand automatically reaches for your favourite one. Just as it comes into contact with the plastic, you can feel yourself salivating and your stomach growls in appreciation. It’s a myth, you think. There’s no way food like carrots and asparagus is what gets students through school. The only saving grace you have during this period is packets of ramen and chocolate milk. Countless numbers of assignments and tests are already torturous enough; healthy, tasteless food on top of that? No, thanks. 

Clutching the ramen packet in your hands like it was the treasure of your life, you walk towards the milk section to complete your meal with your favourite carton of chocolate milk. There was something about the combination of milk that combats the spice from the ramen, and you’re about to drop onto your knees right there and then to worship the people who invented ramen and chocolate milk, when you see the last carton being taken away right in front of your eyes. 

Without any second thoughts, you rush towards the person and grab their arm, already getting ready to pull out the sob story of how you absolutely need the chocolate milk to survive. Surprised by the sudden contact, the man holding the carton whips his head towards you, eyes wide. 

There’s a fleeting sense of familiarity that passes through you when you see the hazel peeking out from above the mask that covered the rest of his face, but you’re too preoccupied to dwell on the thought. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to beg, you’re cut off by an all too familiar voice. 

“Y/n?”

Huh?

You stare at each other for a few seconds before the realisation of who you were holding, no, clinging onto dawns on you. 

“C-Chan?”

In a lively city that thrived at night, there were a thousand other 24-hour convenience stores scattered all around in every corner. It also wasn’t everyday that you decided to go to the convenience store for food, opting to go to the grocery stores instead. So, if you calculated correctly, the chance of you bumping into Chan at 2:30 a.m. at that very particular store should be close to never.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of you, chocolate milk clutched in one hand. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh I came here to water my plants.” 

Plants? 

You’re more than confused, till you hear the soft snicker that escapes his mouth. Narrowing your eyes at his antics, you decide to bite back with a “Ha ha, very funny.”

“So… Are you planning to hold onto me forever?” Chan teases you, eyes gesturing to your hand that was still clutching onto him, before looking back at you with a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Because I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

With the whole bumping-into-Chan thing that happened, it had completely slipped your mind that you were still holding onto him. You snatch your hand away in horror, eyes widening as you feel the heat creep up your neck. “S-sorry.” And before you could stop yourself, you also continue to spill why you had grabbed his arm in the first place. “I was just craving for chocolate milk, and the one you took was the last carton left.” 

Looking back and forth at you and the carton, you start to feel like an absolute idiot, until he reaches out and pushes the carton into your hands. “You can have it then,” he says, and walks away. “Stay right there, let me grab some ramen and we can have supper together!” 

You stare at the carton for a few seconds, the droplets of water that formed on the outside cool against your fingers. On a normal day, you would have refused the milk vehemently, telling the other person not to worry and to have the last carton. But today wasn’t any other day.

And Chan wasn’t any other person. 

We’re friends, after all, is what echoes in your mind as you look up at the boy walking towards you, two packets of ramen in his hand and a carton of strawberry milk. Smiling at him, you finally express your gratitude for his kind sacrifice. 

“Thanks for this,” you say, waving the carton in front of him. “I don’t think I would have made it through the night without it.” 

Nodding with a smile, he tears his two packets of ramen open and pours in the hot water that was situated at the back of the store, grabbing yours from you in the process. “What brings you here at this hour? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be craving ramen and chocolate milk in the middle of the night on any other day.”

“You’re right about that,” you reply dejectedly, recalling the big pile of assignments waiting for you back at the apartment. “It’s hell month in school, and I’m drowning in work. On top of that, Changbin exhausted every single food source we have at home!”

Chan does his very best to hold back his laughter at your expression; he knew you were angry, but you looked as threatening as a kitten. And thankfully he succeeds, because he really did not want to be on the receiving end of your wrath. Although, he thinks, you really are not going to be able to do much damage.

“How dare he,” Chan agrees, finally taking a seat beside you, the steam from the ramen warming his face up. “Hey but, if he hadn’t done that we wouldn’t have bumped into each other here.” 

You nod your head in agreement, thinking about how to start a casual conversation, when you are suddenly hit with the realisation that you knew essentially nothing about Chan. You didn’t know what university he went to, what he majored in, and what he was doing in the convenience store that late at night too. 

One question at a time, you decide. 

“What are you doing out this late anyway?” you ask, slurping the noodles and breathing out in relief at the taste of the ramen against your tongue. 

“I come here often,” is what he replies, before taking a sip of his milk. “My uni’s about fifteen minutes from here, and I usually work the best at this time. Being a music production major, there aren’t very strict deadlines, but I’ve still got to get my shit done.” 

Oh. That’s all your questions answered. 

You know the trouble of trying to get questions out, especially for you, who has never really made the effort in going the extra mile in interacting with people. It’s annoying and nerve-wrecking, and probably the biggest reason why you refused making new friends. The whole process was just painful. So, when Chan answers your unasked questions, you feel the hypothetical weight lifting off your shoulder, and you open your mouth to express your gratitude. At least, that’s what you had planned to do. 

“Are you a mind reader?” you blurt out, before immediately clamping your mouth shut and facepalming. “Ugh, sorry. I have a really bad habit of blurting out whatever comes to my mind.” You groan at your inconvenient habit, and Chan pats the top of your hand in hopes of comforting you.

“I just meant to say that I was thinking of asking you those questions and you answered them even before I asked.” Chan looks at you with a smile, intrigued by your personality. You clearly didn’t have any other friends other than Changbin—but you never looked as if you were upset about it. It was also clear that you were content with not interacting with people, but when you did, you were never rude about it and you really did try your best. Never in a million years would he have thought that the student scurrying around the library with tons of books would turn out to be someone like you. 

“At least that means you’re an honest person!” Chan says, beaming at you. “C’mon, learn to look at the brighter side of things.” 

Shrugging your shoulders with a tired smile on your face, you turn back to your ramen, which has now gone soggy due to your little chit-chat with the boy beside you. 

There’s a comfortable silence that hangs between the two of you, until Chan speaks up again. “What’s your major? I realised I never asked.” 

At the mention of school, you pull an automatic stank face before replying. “English Lit with a minor in Philosophy. The worst decision of my life.” 

“And why’s that?”

“I never knew there’d be this much essay writing!” you cry out, throwing your head against the table. The rest of your words come out muffled, but somehow Chan manages to catch it. “I mean, I knew there was going to be lots of essays. But not this much.” 

“In the major’s defense, that’s kind of a dumb move on your part, Y/n.”

“Yes, I know. Please don’t remind me of my idiocy.” You finally sit up, before sadly chewing on your noodles. “At least I have ramen and chocolate milk to keep me going.” 

And as the night went on, both of you continued the conversation back and forth, you learning more about him and him about you. You talk about your assignments, how annoying some of your professors were, and how living with Changbin was. All the times you had to chase him to clean up after himself, or all the times he stayed up with you until ungodly hours just because you had procrastinated too much and was rushing an assignment in the last hour. You also learnt more about Chan; how he was studying music production because that was his dream since he was young, and how he actually roomed with Jisung, who was equally as messy as Changbin. The only difference was that Chan couldn’t be bothered about the mess. 

“Changbin, Jisung, and I actually used to make tracks and post them on Soundcloud,” Chan says, smiling as he recalls the three high schoolers cooped up in his room with the bare minimum equipment that wiped out half their savings. “We even had rapper names.” 

“Ooooo~” you tease, nudging his shoulder as his ears start to turn a bright red. “What was yours?” 

“What’s in the past should stay in the past, Y/n. Let bygones be bygones. No point talking about it now.”

“Awww, c’mon!” You plead, fidgeting in your seat. “Was it something embarrassing like Cheminem, or something?” 

“I can’t help but feel more relaxed when your standards are that low,” Chan says, with some form of relief in his voice. “Uh, mine was CB97.” 

“Don’t tell me…” you mutter, eyes wide as the laughter threatens to escape your lips. “Did you really just use your initials and your birth year? Talk about bare minimum!” 

“Hey! It’s better than Meminen, or Cheminem, or whatever you said earlier.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you decide to probe further. “What were Jisung’s and Changbin’s?” 

Chan stares at you with wide eyes, your mischievous eyes giving away your evil plans. “No. Changbin will kill me.”

“Don’t be a party pooper! I’ll treat you to ramen next time if you tell me.” You try tempting Chan with food, with no hopes that it would work. But somehow, you see his resolve crumbling, and realise that you just needed one final push. 

“I’ll get you chocolate milk and two packets of ramen.” 

At that point, Chan regrets telling you his habit of eating two packets of ramen with chocolate milk almost every night when he stays up. “You shouldn’t have given me the milk then!” is what you said while chiding him, and he just claimed that “you looked like you needed it more than me” while saying that he really wasn’t picky about the flavour of milk. 

So when you tempt him with his cravings, he has no choice but to give in.

Twenty minutes later, you walk into your shared apartment, a mysterious smile playing on your lips as you drop the keys into the little holder by the door. It was made by yours truly during a random pottery workshop you signed up for. The shape was slightly off, and the colour wasn’t bright or vibrant—but it worked and that’s what mattered. 

At the sound of the keys clinking in the holder, Changbin’s head shoots up to gauge your mood from your expression. Surely you would be at least a little less angry after your little run to the convenience store, he thought. 

But instead of seeing a blank expression, or even an angry one, he sees the smile on your face and his heart drops. Why were you smiling? The fact that you were smiling made him feel a hundred times worse, and he had already started saying his prayers.

“So, Changbin…” you start, leaning against one of the chairs at the dining table. You weren’t even angry about the empty shelves anymore, but you just could not pass on the opportunity of teasing your best friend. “Or should I say, SpearB?”

And you’re more than content with the way his face morphs into that of horror, as he grips the edges of the table. “How did you know?” he asks, his voice strained and barely above a whisper; one would think that the whole world had found out about his darkest secret from the way he was reacting. 

Shrugging playfully, you go back to your seat and sort out the papers scattered around the table, grabbing your laptop to start working on your assignment again with a full and happy stomach. “Who knows~”

“Y/n, tell me,” he starts to whine, making his way to you on his roller chair. “No one knows other than the boys-”

And the realisation of who the culprit was hits him.

“It was Chan, right?” he asks, already reaching for his phone to scold the older boy. “You must have met him when you went to the store—he’s always getting ramen there.” Typing furiously on his phone, he pauses to look up and whine again. “I can’t believe you two gossiped about me! And it was me who made you both become friends. The disrespect!” 

Finally the laughter you had been holding in breaks out and floods the living room, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I can’t believe,” you start, trying to catch your breath as you continue laughing. “SpearB! What do you do? Impale people with your sharp flow and rhyme?”

“Just shut up, please,” Changbin pleads, plugging his ears with his fingers. “La la la, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He rolls back to his side of the table and grabs the headphones, shoving it over his head to drown out your laughter. 

Your laugh fest is cut off by your phone vibrating, signalling that you had a new text message. Grabbing it, you tap your phone a few times to open up the messages page. 

chan: can’t believe you outed me to changbin chan: traitor y/n: drama queen y/n: i said nth, he figured it out on his own chan: ఠ_ಠ

Giggling at the emoticon Chan used, you unconsciously lean back in your seat as you search your gallery for an emoticon to reply with, assignments forgotten. 

“Who’re you texting?” Changbin asks, having heard you giggle at your phone. He’s eyeing you suspiciously, and you knew it was better to answer him, because a curious Changbin is a dangerous Changbin, and he’ll probably stomp over and snatch your phone to see who you were texting anyway. “It’s Chan.”

“When did you two exchange numbers?!”

“Earlier, when we met at the convenience store.” 

It was right before the both of you parted ways; when Chan had proposed something that was pretty much impossible to turn down. 

“I had fun today,” he said, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other swung the plastic bag containing some chocolates to add to his secret sweet stash. “You said you’re having hell month, right? Hit me up whenever you need an emergency ramen run.” And with that, he pushed his phone into your hands, signalling for you to do the same. 

Smiling to yourself, you keyed in your number into the phone clutched in your hand, saving yourself as “Y/n”, and before you could regret your decision, you quickly added a smiley after your name and tossed the phone back to Chan. “Here you go.” 

The cool metal is being pressed into your hands, and before you know it, you’ve said your farewell to Chan and were on your way back home. 

“Look at you socialising out of your own will,” Changbin states proudly, wiping an imaginary tear as he gives you a fatherly (or what he thinks is fatherly) smile. “Albeit, at the expense of my shame, but if it means my little Y/n making more friends then why not!” 

“Please stop, you’re an embarrassment to me, yourself, and literally everyone around us,” you deadpan, clearing your side of the table up. It was time to call it a night, because God knows you’re not going to be able to do anymore work. “Besides, it’s really not that big of a deal. I doubt we’ll continue talking after tonight. It’s probably a one-off thing.”

“Hmmm I wouldn’t be too sure,” Changbin muses. “I feel like there’s something that’ll come out of this.”

vii. 

Seo Changbin isn’t a lot of things. 

He isn’t tidy, opting to throw his clothes all around his room instead of folding it; he isn’t patient, always screaming at you to “Hurry your ass!” when he had been waiting barely three minutes; and last but not least, he definitely isn’t punctual. “Changbin is my name, and being late is my game” is something you’ve heard way too often from him that it was a wonder you hadn’t murdered him yet.

Changbin isn’t a lot of things—but what he somehow is, is intuitive when it comes to you.

So when you find yourself back at the convenience store at 12:30 a.m., ramen and chocolate milk in front of you as you laugh over some stupid story Chan was saying, you can’t help but curse at how right your best friend was. 

You were reaching the end of your hell month, which also indicated it being four weeks since you and Chan had developed the routine of pigging out at the convenience store at terrible hours. 

“... and he just fell off the tree!” Chan concludes his story of how Hyunjin fell off a tree in high school, words coming out breathless due to how much the both of you were laughing. “Ah, that brings back memories.”

“I can’t believe I never talked to you guys more then,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “It would’ve been hilarious.”

“Someone was too busy with Voldemort,” Chan teases, pushing his nose down flat in what you could only describe as a Voldemort impression. Laughing, you swat his hand away while rolling your eyes at the boy you’ve grown so fond of in a span of four weeks. “Why’d you never talk to us?” 

Thinking back to high school, you ask yourself. Why didn’t you ever bother talking to them?

“I guess it’s just cause I already had Changbin,” you start, pausing to think back to the past few years. “As much as I complain about him, he’s really one of the greatest best friends anyone could ask for.”

It was true; Changbin was there for you during high school like no one else had been, and for that you were eternally grateful for him.

“So you were scared to take any other chances since you already got the best?” 

People always asked you why you didn’t make more friends in high school. Hell, even your mother kept asking, when other parents struggled to keep their children at home just because they were spending too much time out with friends. But the answer to that question was something you never thought about, and you can’t stop the feeling of shock spreading through your body at what the boy in front of you had just so casually uttered. 

You were scared.

“I-I…” you stutter, eyes wide as you stare at the boy in front of you. Chan can’t help the worry that seeps into his face at his words, and he’s starting to wonder if he said anything wrong. “I’ve never ever thought about it. But, oh my God, that makes so much sense.” 

After years of waving everyone who asked you why you never made any other friends away just because you yourself didn’t have the answer to the question, you’re hit with a huge realisation of just why you didn’t want to find more friends. And it wasn’t even you who figured it out. 

This boy sitting leisurely in front of you, skin pale and soft, with messy black hair framing his face that he never bothered brushing away. This boy, who was as kind as he was hardworking, always willing to help out anyone, even with his own responsibilities. This boy who had been readily there for you at the devil hours for almost every day in the past four weeks, always checking up on you to make sure that you were surviving.

Never in a million years would you have expected someone to figure out something that was locked away so deep inside of your heart, and for it to be Chan, out of everyone. The thought makes your heart race a little, but you decide to blame it on the conversation the both of you were having. It was definitely not because of the boy seated beside you.

“Shocking, huh,” Chan starts, laughing slightly as the worry he had felt earlier replaced with something he could only describe as fondness. “It’s a pity though.” 

You look at him questioningly, and what he says next makes you realise a few things that maybe you were better off not realising. 

“We would’ve been much happier in high school with you there. I would’ve been much happier.” 

As much as you regretted not befriending the other seven boys in high school, you were starting to regret bumping into Chan that very first night even more. If you hadn’t bumped into him, you would’ve never spent so much time with him, never realised how great of a person he was, and lastly, you would’ve never started falling for Bang Chan.

viii.

It’s like déjà vu.

With your exams and assignments completed, you find yourself watching the latest season of Haikyuu when Changbin enters the room, waltzing towards your reclined figure. 

“Y/n~” Changbin starts, poking your shoulder to get your attention. “Whatever your annoying ass needs now, it’s a no,” you say without even turning to look at the boy beside you.

“Oh? Even if it was an invitation to dinner with the boys later tonight?” 

And when your head whips to the side to look at your best friend, you’re so tempted to just wipe that smirk clean off his face, because the bitch knew you would have said yes.

“I fucking hate you,” is what you can mutter, before switching the television and throwing the remote to the side, choosing to ignore Changbin as you walk towards your room to pick an outfit. But you’re forced to stop in your tracks when Changbin casually utters the next few words.

“Chan’s especially excited to see you.”

You’re not sure what Changbin means by that, but there’s no denying the increase in your heart rate at the mention of the dimpled boy. 

“What?” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as you could, hoping that your best friend wouldn’t pick up the slight quiver in your voice. But, of course, he wasn’t your best friend for nothing. 

“I said, your little boyfriend’s excited to see you.” Changbin smirks at your expression, stretching his legs out to rest it on the coffee table in front of your sofa. “And it looks like you’re just as excited.” 

Red travels up your neck and spreads across your face, as you sputter at your best friend’s preposterous words. “W-what are you- I- Huh-”

Realising that your little breakdown wasn’t helping your case at all, you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before speaking to the insolent brat in front of you. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you like him, don’t you?”

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, and the first instinct you have is to play dumb. “O-of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

“I will pretend like I did not hear that pathetic attempt of you trying to act dumb,” Changbin states robotically, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Y/n. It’s obvious. So stop pretending and just fess up. It’ll be easier for the both of us.” 

You had two choices now: Either fess up and prepare yourself for at least a thousand years of teasing, or just completely deny it till your deathbed. 

Clearly, the second option was much more appealing. 

“No, Changbin,” you snap with as much conviction as you could. “I do not have a crush on Chan. He’s just a really good friend.”

The knowing look on his face wavers, and you know that you’re seconds away from success. It’s not that you did not trust your best friend with the information of you having a crush on one of his friends. You just did not want to say it out loud—saying it out loud would mean that you were confirming it, and there will be no going back. And that scared you. 

You were scared of liking someone who was way too perfect, and who probably would never like you back. 

So the best solution was to keep your little crush hidden away in the depths of your heart, and slowly get over it as soon as you could. It was as easy as it could get.

ix.

Apparently, you realise, it wasn’t at all easy to get over a simple crush. 

The smell of meat fills your nostrils as the eight boys chatter loudly over the sound of the sizzling of the food. You’re back at the same restaurant, with the same boys, except it wasn’t exactly the same as the last time. 

This time, you had a raging crush on the boy who insisted on sitting beside you, leg brushing against yours every few seconds as he piles the food on your plate instead of his. 

It definitely didn’t help that every time your hands brushed while reaching out for the side dishes around the table, you pulled your hand back as if you had just been burned, ears immediately heating up. 

“Did you know Chan told Y/n about 3RACHA?” Changbin whines to Jisung, making him stop his actions mid-way, meat hanging from the chopsticks just a few inches away from his mouth. “All I heard the past few weeks was ‘SpearB, help me’, ��SpearB, go there’. It was torture.”

The table goes silent at the new information Changbin had revealed, and all you can do is smile sheepishly as your friends stare at the both of you. 

“These two have been meeting almost everyday the past few weeks to get ramen at weird timings, and I’m pretty sure Y/n has lots of quality dirt on us now,” Changbin says pointedly, completely ignoring the way your eyes widened because why would he just say that?

It already wasn’t easy keeping Changbin in check with his little fantasies every time you went out to meet Chan, and now it was going to be worse because you just knew that the six other boys were going to question you from their expressions. 

You turn to look at Chan, expecting to see the same ‘busted’ expression on his face, but all you see is a guilty smile, before he opens his mouth to speak. “In my defense, I was bribed.” 

“Yes but, you never told us your 3RACHA names even after we kept begging you for weeks,” Hyunjin speaks up, eyes wide in disbelief. “We had to bribe you with a new game for your console, but you just told Y/n after two packets of ramen and chocolate milk?” 

Your heart rate picks up speed just a fraction after hearing Hyunjin’s words, and you can’t help but feel a little special that Chan was comfortable enough to tell you things he refused to tell others. There’s a small smile playing at your lips as you look at the boy beside you, who was now rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he tried his best to defend himself from the accusations that were now pouring out from all his friends. 

Unbeknownst to you, your own best friend was watching the both of you since the night started, a glint in his eye as he catches the way you threw small glances at his friend, blushing every time your hands brushed or when Chan purposely picked out the meat that was grilled best to put on your plate. 

He also didn’t miss the soft smile playing at Chan’s lips every time you laughed at another stupid joke Jisung cracked, head thrown back slightly as you clutched your stomach, or the way his eyes widened every time you leaned a little too close to him to reach for a side dish. 

Fools, is what he thinks when he eyes his two best friends. Fools in love.

The night goes on, and it’s Changbin who proposes a game of who can finish a bottle of soju the fastest to make things more exciting. You already know how it was going to end when you see the soju bottles crowding the table, all screaming the obvious outcome of the night.

“Rule’s simple. We’ll have two people against each other, and the one that loses has to pay their opponent’s share for tonight’s dinner.” 

You notice Changbin avoiding your eyes as he speaks and distributes the bottle, which could be attributed to the very scary death glare you were throwing right at him. 

Here’s the thing—your alcohol tolerance was shit. And Changbin knew that, making you wonder what he had planned up his sleeve.

“Right, here’s the lineup,” he announces, making it seem as if the lot of you were in some world championship of sorts. “Hyunjin and Jisung”—there’s a loud ‘Die, bitch!’ that resounds from Jisung as they both get ready to win against each other—“Seungmin and Felix, Minho and Jeongin, and Chan and Y/n!” 

You were going to kill that idiot. 

Changbin starts off the game with a recap of the rules, and makes sure that everyone has their own bottle of alcohol. Disaster is the only word flashing in your mind, and you’re on the verge of ditching your friends to return to the comfort of your room. 

“Jisung and Hyunjin first!” Changbin instructs, to which the two boys grab their bottles and have a stare-down with each other. 

“I’m gonna win so hard, your ancestors are gonna feel it.”

“Let’s see you try, pretty boy.” 

On Changbin’s cue, the two boys start gulping down the alcohol, and you visibly cringe at the ghost feeling of the taste on your tongue. 

“Are you okay?” Chan whispers from beside you, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s a stupid game. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” 

There’s a grateful smile on your face as you shake your head, letting the boy know you were okay. “I’m fine. Just worried because my alcohol tolerance isn’t that good, and I don’t want to inconvenience all of you.”

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” Chan mutters softly, staring right into your eyes. The smile slowly drops from your face as your heartbeat echoes in your ears at his words and the way he was looking at you. You so badly wanted to look away, not being used to such eye contact, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes it almost impossible for you to tear your gaze away from his twinkling eyes. 

The sound of a bottle being slammed onto the table snaps you out of your little moment with Chan, and you immediately turn away to look at what was happening at the table, taking deep, cleansing breaths to calm yourself. 

On the other side of the table, you realise that Hyunjin was the one who finished his bottle first, now having the time of his life teasing Jisung, who had about one quarter of the bottle left. 

All the boys, except Chan and Felix, were laughing their asses off—Felix was the only one comforting Jisung, while Chan was staring at the table, an unreadable expression on his face.

“There, there. It’s okay, Sung,” Felix coos, patting Jisung’s hair, as the latter sulks at his loss. 

The next two rounds proceed quickly, with Seungmin and Jeongin emerging as the winners. Everyone stares shell shocked, as Jeongin gulps down the liquid with vigour and speed, and slams his bottle down onto the table with a grin.

“There’s no way! I can’t believe Minho lost to a baby!”

“Just because he’s the youngest doesn’t mean he’s a baby, Changbin.” Seungmin deadpans, swiftly moving the empty bottles to the side of the table. “And how come you’re not participating?”

“Someone needs to bring Y/n back,” Changbin shrugs, passing the bottles to Chan and you with a guilty smile in return to your scowl. “And I’d rather stay sober when taking care of drunk children.”

You turn to pass the bottle to Chan, quickly avoiding his gaze when he looks at you. You’re not confident in your abilities to keep the blush down if he was going to look at you the way he did before. 

“Okay,” Changbin cues, making sure both of you were ready with the bottle caps off. “Ready, set… Go!”

You didn’t mind paying for Chan’s share for dinner, you really didn’t. But if there was something about you that was both your downfall and pride, it was your competitiveness. You were competitive to the point where you tended to disregard the consequences of your actions. 

So, your brain doesn’t register the painful consequences of your actions as you gulp down the bottle of alcohol like your life depended on it. You weren’t the best drinker out there, but you were going to try your very damn best because it was a competition. 

With no expectation of winning, you swallow the last drop of soju and slam the bottle back onto the table, when you realise that everyone was staring at the two of you with their mouths open—specifically at Chan.

Following their gaze, your eyes widen in surprise as you see the boy holding an almost half-full bottle of soju, clearly indicating that you were the winner of your little game. 

It’s like a dam breaks, and suddenly everyone’s shouting at the unexpected outcome. Hyunjin and  Jisung scream while looking back and forth the bottle and Chan, while Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin sit with wide eyes and open mouths, unable to process that Chan just lost to you.

On the other hand, Changbin watches Chan with a smirk, which slowly drops when he realises that Minho, who was sitting beside him, was staring at him with raised eyebrows, clearly asking the question ‘What the fuck just happened?’.

Just as he’s about to pull Changbin to the side to question him, you shoot up from your seat, stumbling around almost immediately because of the sudden bout of dizziness that hit you. You fall back onto your seat as fast you had gotten up, and Chan wraps an arm around you almost instinctively, making sure you didn’t fall off your seat. 

The table is back to having their own conversations a few minutes later, as if they weren't just screaming over your victory, with Hyunjin and Jisung having a rock-paper-scissors tournament between themselves, proposed by Jisung who was still sore about losing to Hyunjin.

Alcohol clouds your mind as your head lols back and forth, with soft giggles spilling from your lips. In your drunken state, you register the arm wrapped around you, and you turn your head to look for the owner of said arm. 

Chan looks at you with the fondest smile as he tries to hold back his own chuckles at how cute your giggles were, at the same time being extremely conscious of the way you fit perfectly around his arms. He thanks his lucky stars that you were drunk as he held you, assuring him that there was no way you were going to hear how fast his heart was beating. 

“Oh?” you drawl, squinting at the boy beside you. “Who might you be?” 

And at that very moment, Chan hopes with all his heart that there is no one else who will get to witness what he was seeing right in front of him. 

There are strands of hair covering your face, cheeks red from the alcohol (and from the close proximity to him, but he doesn’t need to know that) and eyes drooping from the oncoming sleepiness. Yet, to him, you were still the most beautiful in that moment. 

“I’m Chan,” he replies sweetly, hesitating for a moment before adding more to the sentence. “Your friend.”

An exaggerated gasp escapes you as your eyes widen comically. Words tumble from your mouth, with hiccups disrupting your sentences every now and then. “Chan? Bang Chan? From high school? The really, um-" hiccup "-cute boy who tutored in the library? The super popular dude? You’re my-" hiccup "friend?”

There’s a light pink flush dusting his cheeks at your words, but he laughs nonetheless while nodding, finger reaching out to tap your nose. “Yes, I am.” 

Scrunching your nose at the contact, you continue giggling when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts the little exchange you and Chan were having. Chan turns to face his friends, and immediately starts coughing when he realises that they had been watching the whole scene with amused expressions. He awkwardly retracts his arm from around your waist, only for you to get up and stumble over to where Changbin was sitting, arms reaching out towards him while making grabby hands. “Changbinnnn~”

You plop yourself onto his lap, arms encircling his neck as you pull his ear closer to your mouth. Used to your drunk antics, he concedes, knowing that he’ll end up with more damage if he didn’t listen to you when you were drunk. 

When he is close enough, you cup your hands around your mouth and whisper into his ears. At least, you thought you were whispering. 

“You have really cute friends, Changbin.”

The whole table erupts into cheers at your words, and you immediately cover your mouth with a horrified expression. “Did everyone hear that?”

“You weren’t very quiet, darling,” Changbin snorts, pulling you up with him as he stands. “How are all of you getting back?” 

“We’re all crashing at Felix’s place,” Seungmin speaks up, tapping away on his phone. “The uber’s about to arrive… right now.” 

Grabbing their things, everyone except Minho, Chan, Changbin, and you, make their way out of the restaurant, shouting out hurried farewells and promises of ‘I’ll wire the money to you when I get back!’ to Changbin. 

“Okay, Minho and I will go settle the bill,” Changbin says, readjusting his grip on you. “Chan, can you look after Y/n for a bit?”

“Sure,” Chan replies, looping your arm around his neck as his snakes around your waist. “We’ll be out at the front.”

The moment Chan leaves their sight with you by his side, Minho turns to bombard Changbin with all the questions that had been bothering him the whole night.

“What was that?” Minho asks in bewilderment, pointing to the door that Chan and you had exited from. “How on earth did Chan lose that game when he’s the best drinker amongst all of us?!” 

“It’s called being in love,” Changbin scoffs, shaking his head at his two friends. “Disgusting.” 

The distressed look on Minho’s face dissolves, and is replaced by what one could describe as enlightenment. “No fucking way. I was wondering why he kept smiling at them like an idiot. That explains so much! Have they confessed?”

“You think?” Changbin rolls his eyes, knowing that there was no way either of you had the courage to confess first. “The only way either of them will confess is if they are drunk.” 

“But Y/n is dru-” Minho starts in confusion, when he stops mid-sentence, realising what Changbin had just done. “You evil genius.”

“What can I say,” Changbin states proudly, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder. “I wonder what’s going on outside,” he mutters under his breath, staring at the door. 

On the other side of the door, Chan finally succeeds in getting you to sit down with him on a curb, his jacket folded neatly under your bottom to make sure that you were not sitting on the hard cement. “I’m tired,” you whine, head dropping onto the warm shoulder beside you. 

Chan tenses up at the sudden contact, staring at the top of your head, when you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. At the feeling of your cheek against his shoulder, he relaxes, and positions himself such that you didn’t have to strain your neck. 

There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you, until you decide to break it by asking Chan a very obvious question.

“We’re close friends right?” 

You lift your head from Chan’s shoulder, almost whining out loud at the loss of comfort, but you decide that asking him that question was more important. Clearly, drunk you had very different priorities. 

Chan just nods and replies with a soft “Of course”, wondering why you were suddenly asking that question. “Why?”

“Since we’re close friends, can I tell you a secret?” The last few words are spoken in a hushed whisper, as you reach out and grasp Chan’s soft and warm hands. His larger hands clasps yours, as he chuckles at your question. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/n. You’re drunk, and you might regret telling me when you sober up.”

“No!” You almost shout, alarming Chan who looks around to make sure no one heard your exclamation. You continue in a softer tone, to Chan’s relief. “You’re my close friend! So I won’t regret it.” 

And the wide smile you show Chan almost makes him want to kiss you right there and then. Almost. 

“Alright then,” Chan agrees, rubbing circles into the skin on your hand. “Go ahead, tell me your secret.”

Giggling, you use your free hand to beckon him closer, your face moving closer to his at the same time. Just as his ear is close enough to you, you whisper out the words that make his heart stop. 

“I think I like you.” 

He freezes in place, eyes staring at the black tar road ahead of him as his heart hammers against his ribcage because of your nonchalant words. He gulps before slowly turning to face you, the person he had grown to like more than he could ever imagine coming into his view. He takes quick, shallow breaths as he continues to stare at you, unsure of what to say. 

Luckily (or unluckily, for Chan), you decide to continue talking, baring your heart and soul to him. 

“It’s like...” you start, trailing off after your first two words, before finding the right words to continue. “It’s like I was always happy in life, but you made me realise that it was possible for me to be happier when you are there with me.”

And the smile you give Chan, accompanied with the words you had just uttered, makes him want to protect you from the rest of the world. He’s not sure if he loves you, but what he’s sure about is that all he wants to do is hug you and never let go, to be there for you every minute, every second. And he thinks that’s enough. 

That’s enough reason to hold onto you and never let go.

Opening his mouth, Chan is about to reply to your drunk confession, when the sound of soft snores fill his ears. 

Leaning against the light pole that was situated very conveniently behind you, you had fallen asleep in the split second Chan had taken to make his move. Your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, and Chan can’t help but breath out a laugh at your timing. 

There’s always tomorrow, he thinks.

x.

There’s white noise playing in your ear as you stare up at your ceiling.

Changbin is seated at the edge of your bed saying something important, you assume. You aren’t listening; your brain cells have decided to go on a strike and replay the scene from yesterday on loop. 

I think I like you.

You want to scream. You want to scream and murder the boy sitting beside you so bad. After all, it was his fault that you ingested that goddamn devil liquid that made you spill more than your guts. 

It was a wonder that you were able to find a friend as precious as Chan, and there you lay in despair, all thoughts of facing Chan again slowly slipping away from your fingertips. There was absolutely no way you were going to be able to see him after the stunt you pulled yesterday. 

“Y/n, are you listening?!”

“No.” 

A hand wraps around your arm and you feel yourself being pulled up, coming face-to-face with your distressed best friend. “Stop being stubborn. Calm down and listen to what I have to say.”

And that’s when you snap.

“Stubborn!?” you shriek, clutching the ends of your hair. “I just confessed to your friend, Seo Changbin. I was drunk, and I confessed my very large and real crush to the person I am crushing on. I have ruined any chance at friendship with him, so don’t tell me to stop being stubborn and to calm down!”

Taking a deep breath, Changbin pulls you towards him, both his hands resting against your cheeks. “Listen here. Stop being a wuss. Yes, you confessed when you were drunk. Yes, it’s embarrassing as fuck. But get over it. You know Chan. Is he the kind of asshole who drops friendship over small things like rejection?” 

There’s a pout playing at your lips as you shake your head, partly due to the way Changbin was squishing your cheeks, and the other half because you knew he was right. 

“But I still don’t want to face him yet,” you whine, pushing his hands away from your face and diving back into your covers. “I just want to wallow in self pity, and hopefully waste away on this bed so that I’ll never have to face anyone ever again.”

Changbin knows that there was no convincing you otherwise, so he settles for sighing and getting up from your bed. 

“Don’t stay in bed for too long. I’ll order us food for later.”

Muttering something under your breath, you roll over and bury your face into your pillow, sighing as you think about the boy whose smile gave you more warmth than the sun could ever provide.

You’re in the midst of imagining how different today would’ve been if you hadn’t opened your dumb mouth when your phone rings and cuts off your thoughts. Reaching out for it, your mouth runs dry when you see the name displayed on your screen.

“Chan :)”

Your finger presses the decline button and your phone clatters against your bedside table as you decide that you are not ready to talk to Chan yet. And you’re not sure if you’ll ever be ready to talk to him, let alone face him. 

A minute after declining the call, there’s a series of knocks on your door, and you shout out a “Go away!”, not wanting to hear anything related to Chan and how you need to stop being a coward. But as the knocking continues, getting louder as time passes, you start getting annoying and realise you have no choice but to open the door.

“What the fuck do you want, Chang-”

You cut yourself off as you take in the person standing in front of you with wide eyes, looking as handsome as ever even with the furious look painted on his face. 

The silence is thick with tension, and you can’t help but avert your eyes, choosing to look at anything but the boy in front of you. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” Chan asks, voice quiet and flat. “I’ve been calling and texting you all morning.” 

“Um, I-” you start, not knowing how to answer his question. You imagined your day going various ways, but this definitely wasn’t in your plans. “Did Changbin call you?”

“I asked,” he starts, walking towards you. You take a few steps a back, and continue walking backwards until your hands come into contact with your dresser. You were trapped. “Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?”

You blink rapidly, not used to this closed-off version of Chan. The usual warmth and softness in his eyes were missing, and instead all you saw was disappointment and anger. You open your mouth to speak, but it wasn’t easy to get the words out. 

“Was it funny messing with me?” Chan continues, not breaking eye contact with you once. “To just get my hopes up and disappear like it all meant nothing?” 

“W-what?” 

“How was it so easy for you to just start ignoring me?” 

“No I-”

“Is that all I mean to you?” And instead of the disappointment and anger, you see pure, unfiltered hurt, and that was enough for your walls to come crashing down. Tears well up in your eyes as you look at the boy in front of you, and it’s like a dam breaks. 

“I’m sorry.” Sobs wreck your body as you wipe the tears that don’t seem to stop. “I-I’m so fucking sorry, Chan. I was scared.”

“Scared because you just said that in the spur of moment and you don’t actually mean it?”

“No, I was scared because I like you too fucking much!”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you, and you continue staring at the floor, vision blur with stubborn tears that refuse to fall. And that’s when you hear it.

A chuckle. 

It’s soft, and you would’ve missed it if not for the pin drop silence in the room. 

You slowly lift your head up to confirm if you actually heard what you heard, or if you were hallucinating, when you see it. 

Chan was smiling. 

“Can’t believe it worked.” 

What on earth did that mean?

“W-what do you mean?” you ask, sniffing softly. 

“This was Changbin’s idea. For the record, I was against it.” Chan’s hands come up to rest on your cheeks, his thumb wiping away the tears on your cheeks as he smiles softly at you. “I mean, of course I was hurt and worried. But I just wanted to come over and talk it over like a normal person.”

His smile widens as one hand continues cupping your face, while the other reaches to tuck the one stray strand of hair behind your ear. “He said you’ll never admit things unless I, uh, scared you a little.

You stare at Chan as the gears work in your head, putting the pieces of information. The moment the last piece clicks in place, you stare in shock at the boy standing in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, equal parts of relief and anger taking over your mind. “I fucking hate you!”

And with that you storm off towards your door, Chan chasing after you with apologies spilling from his mouth. But the both of you knew that you weren’t actually upset, which can be seen by the giggles accompanying every apology.

Just as you’re about to leave your room, you’re pulled back into warm arms, and you fight every urge to melt right into his embrace. His arms wrap around your frame tightly, but gently. You feel his strong heartbeat against your back, and it’s enough to make you shiver, goosebumps erupting all over your skin. 

“Do you hate me?” Chan asks, chin resting on your shoulder as you feel his breath tickle your neck. 

“Yes.”

“Really?” Chan asks in amusement, lips against your ears and voice just above a whisper. “That’s a pity then. Because I like you too fucking much too.” 

He whispers the last part of the sentence, making your knees go weak and your heartbeat pick up its pace as it usually does whenever the boy who stole your heart was involved. 

You turn around in his arms to face him, sighing contentedly at how things ended up turning out.  “I’m really sorry about the ghosting.”

“It’s okay, love,” Chan assures you, the pet name inducing butterflies in your stomach. “I would’ve been embarrassed too, if I had confessed to you when I was drunk.”

“I would’ve loved to see that.” You whine at the unfortunate circumstance of you confessing instead of Chan. “I probably looked like an idiot while confessing.”

“Since I’m your boyfriend, can I tell you a secret?” Chan teases, repeating what you said the night before with a little twist. Smacking his arm lightly for the jab, you nod with a laugh, ignoring the way your face heats up when he refers to himself as your boyfriend.  

“I really wanted to kiss you when you were confessing.” There’s mirth in Chan’s eyes as he gazes at you the same way he did back at the restaurant. The only difference was that you knew he liked you back. And you had never been happier. 

“Go for it.”

And that’s all the confirmation that Chan needs to lean down and press his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss, as your hands rest on his chest, appreciating the strong beat his heart was playing. 

You part a few seconds later, eyes still closed as a smile plays on both your lips, before you’re pulled for another kiss, this one more forceful than the one before. His lips press against yours harder, and his arms pull you closer—as close as you could be. You respond with equal fervor, pouring every emotion you have into the kiss, when you’re interrupted by a loud cough. 

“I would appreciate it if I didn’t have to bleach my eyes every time I see the two of you.”

Oh. 

It completely slipped your mind that Changbin was just a few steps away from your room, and you want to crawl under your bed and befriend the monster there when you see the haughty smile on your best friend’s face. 

“I think a thanks is in order.”

Removing yourself from Chan’s arms, you walk over to Changbin, who smiles wider when he realises you are walking towards him. Opening his arms to welcome you in for a hug, he can’t help but shriek when you start punching him everywhere possible.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?!”

“That’s what you get for coming up with stupid ideas to get me to talk!” you snap at your best friend with words that carry no real bite. “Were you that desperate?”

“Clearly!” Changbin replies, exasperated. “It was getting depressing. He wouldn’t stop calling me because he was worried, and you were being a stubborn bitch!” 

At his words, there’s a tinge of guilt that pinches at you when you realise the trouble you had put your best friend through. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say with a pout, burying your face into Changbin’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

“Yes yes, you’re welcome,” Changbin says with a soft smile. He wouldn’t admit it just yet, but seeing his best friend who meant the world to him end up with someone who just as much deserved nothing but the best made him eternally grateful. “Now go smooch your boyfriend. We don’t want him becoming too jealous of the attention you’re giving me.”

“Oh, shut up,” is what Changbin gets in return, as Chan intertwines his hand with yours. Just as Changbin walks out of sight back to his room, Chan turns to you with the biggest smile.

“Now then, shall we go on a date to celebrate our first day?”

“Absolutely.”

And as you and Chan sit on the beach that evening, surrounded by sand and accompanied by the sound of the waves and the soft breeze with a orange hue enveloping you, you think:

Life had never been sweeter.

[lord-river]

Halloween Night

This is a short story I wrote in my creative writing class for Halloween, please enjoy!

Warnings:

Gore

Murder

“Halloween night, the best night of the year!” I stated as we walked down the street with our masks on

“You liar! It’s Christmas that’s the best!” My brother yelled back at me

I scoffed as we continued walking and went from house to house getting the best of what we could.

My brother lets out a long sigh, “There’s really not a lot of good stuff this year. I wish people stalked up more”

“Yeah I can agree with that, but we at least got this!” I hold up a bag of fake skeleton bones from peoples yards, “I mean come on! They weren’t using them anymore so why not take them!” He laughed as I put it back in my bag of goodies, “HEY! Don’t contaminate the good stuff with your stupid hoarding habit! I still want to trade and sort stuff out!” My brother yelled at me

“Oh come on! They’re in their own bag!!” I rolled my eyes

“Yeah but the fumes of that plastic shit will contaminate everything we got!”

“Okay okay you big baby!!” I remove the bag of the faux skeleton bones from the other bag, my brother yelling at me saying he’s older, we start to head home. On our way home we run into a few friends from school, “hey guys! Me and my brother were just about to go home and trade stuff, you wanna come with?”

“HELL YES! I call any almond joys!!” The boy from my Science class speaks up as all the others nod as well, we continue to head to our house.

“What the hell is that stench?!” One of the girls asks

“Sorry, our cat made a huge mess as we haven’t had time to clean it up yet, we’ll have to do it later, come on. It’s way better inside!” My brother responds as he unlocks the house, everyone walking inside.

“Okay! I have some of those candy eyeballs if anyone wants to trade a better flavor!”

I quickly speak up, “I will! But it’s really a lottery of whether you get a better flavor or not from me.”

“Yeah sure that’s fine I guess.” Science boy sighs and hands me the candy

I smile and pull one of the eyeballs and place it in the science boy's hand. Next thing you know all you hear is screaming.

“You couldn’t have waited even just a little longer? I kinda wanted to have fun with it this year.” My brother speaks up

I shrug as I get up, “too late now, should’ve told me earlier. Now can we at least get rid of science boy? He’s not crying and begging for his life and it’s really pissing me off.”

“Yeah yeah. The honor is all yours, your majesty” he dramatically bows as I grab the hatchet on the wall, taking it to science boy’s head simply just to shut him up.

My brother grabs the body as looks at me, “I just realized you didn’t call him his name”

“Come on, Keith. Who remembers the name of their next few meals?” I look over at the rest of the group, walking over to them, “it’s okay barbie doll, I won’t hurt you..”

Keith lets out a chuckle, “too bad the last thing out of them will be screams.”

I smile and nods, “I actually quite like it”

“That’s just sick, Elliot.” he smirks as his teeth start to morph back into disaster

[toadstool32]

im delirious i just had a GREAT idea this requires having terminal homestuck brain and also liking the idea of batman being fucked up in a funny way. putting this under a read more bc i want u to choose to ruin ur day

ok so like are your familiar with spicyyetis davekat halloween special? well i hope you are now.

ok now are u familiar with bruce wayne? are you familiar of his habit of accidentally acquiring kids left and right and also his perfect mental health?

ok now are you seeing what im seeing

im thinkiong like years in the future like im p sure there was a panel of bruce telling stories to one of his grandchildren like it was very cute right hand on im pulling up the panel

Batman Lost #1 a tie in for dark knights metal

do you see that those are kids , little children running around the manor with an old man bruce just chilling in his murder mystery office, this is the best thing i have ever seen.

so like ideally bruce would have a very happy life retired and with all the rest of the bats taking over in crime fighting n shit and his sons and daughters however many he gets are gonna fill the place with kids eventually bc picking up strays is like, a bat requirement u know, however, im not thinking in a positive way or even a coherent way.

back to YM&O did u see old man dave hoarding kids in a very lonely mansion bc of his fear that the kids are one day gonna be the nly thing that will remind him of the loev of his life or whatever yeah you see where im goin with this.

like i can see it perfectly in my minds eye bruce trying to cope with yknow life and stuff n finally accepting that hes not a one man show and maybe as he gets older hes like alright i gotta, take care of myself? and no matter how much my kids may hate me at times and try to shot me i know they love me and they would be Very Sad if they had to bury me, like , again i mean and so hes like well now im old and trying out this taking care of myself now what and hes like oh i know ill take care of the kids and then at the start dick is like weird but ok better late than never!!! i guess!! but oh wait actuyally sorry old man i cant hang out but u can hang out with timmy and damian ok bye have fun and at this point evryone is like almost thirty and are like trying to subtly get away from bruce bc they were raised independently and also theyre grownups damnit (cass is a treasure so she hangs out but also she knows whats up its chill) and then it expands to the other kids like he starts trying to act as this doting old fatherly figure (hes goin senile its what is HAPPENING) and its not until dick is like haha have u heard jason just got kids following him around thats cute and bruce is like YES THATS IT like he gets hardcore empty nest syndrome except the nest was always kinda full u know? thi pile of leaves and bird shit is gonna overflow,anyway like a few months later dick comes back and theres Horrors tm in Manor bc bruce definition of kid isnt constrained by like, species,(do you think jarro would want more siblings?)

so like the house is packed with kids, all sorts of kids, some arent even kids, some are straight up science experiments and bruce is like I Love My Family :) alfred has been dead for over 30 years and yet bruce finds the way to drag his ghost back to the house so they can coo at the kids together (alfred look at my new daughter isnt she cute yes master bruces shes quite charming what will all the eyes, yes youre right she is) jarro is having fun having siblings but he still tries to win bruces attention , cass is almost encouraging bruce to get more kids (i want a new sister) tim and damian are scared but in different ways jason went there once and said Not My problem (hes also scared) barbara doesnt know the extent of the problem and is just amused the titrans know and dick is the last to know (but only bc i find it funny) if u ask what about duke i dont wanna inflict this hell on him he scaped early amen also the justice league either enables him or is subtly trying to stop him (it is. not working)

[flowerbloom-arts]

Day 20; Hodgkins' lost brother / the Muddler's parents

CW: Ends in death

There was a knock on the poet's door, Diggory said to come in and Confounder opened the door, the eight year old Muddler ran in and jumped on his father's lap as he was at his writing desk.

"Hey honey, how have..." Confounder noticed all the towers of junk in his room "How long has it been like this?"

"Like what?" Diggory asked innocently as he was patting his son's head.

"Oh don't play dumb, why is your room filled with heaping piles of-" Confounder picked out a cuckoo clock from the junk tower next to her by the door "Why in the world is this here?? I thought I misplaced this thing like I always do months ago!" she said in a baffled tone, the Confounder always had a habit of putting things in the wrong place and realizing it when it's too late, she just thought she lost most of this stuff the more she looked at the towers in the room. How did her husband even find most of this when she couldn't?

"Oh you know, I might possibly need a few old things in my possession in the future, who knows when a broken cuckoo clock would come in handy! Better safe than sorry as they say!"

"... This is hoarding," Confounder said seriously.

"I am accumulating a large quantity of items and storing them in a disorganized manner without putting them to much use, yes."

"In your literal work space, no less! How do you live like this??"

"I just... Do it? It's that simple?" Diggory leaned back on his chair trying to avoid the obvious issue his wife is trying to point out.

Confounder took a deep breath "We need to clean this place up."

"What???" Diggory blurted out loudly.

"It's spring cleaning anyway, we might as well!" Confounder said and picked up Muddler who looked pretty concerned for a child and then put him down on the ground.

"But-!"

"You can't overexplain yourself out of this one, dear, you shouldn't be living in a cluttered mess of a room when your mental state is already in shambles! The least we can do is clean up this mess," Confounder lectured "Clear space, clear mind!"

Diggory got up from his chair and tried to argue "But Connie, I- I know that... I'm..." he stumbled over himself trying to excuse why they shouldn't clean his room, in all honesty he just didn't have the motivation to do so and thought it would bring his already low morale down.

Muddler saw a rather large button in one of the towers and tried pulling it out, the towers wobbled and toppled over but Muddler scurried out of the way before it was too late. The parents saw this and were in shock, Diggory ran over to him and held his son's face.

"Muddler are you okay?? Did you get hurt???"

"N-no! Excuse me! I'm sorry!" Muddler felt bad as he looked over at the toppled junk tower and clutched the button in his paws. Diggory looked over at the pile and sighed, finally agreeing that a state like this was dangerous and should be cleaned out.

*

Confounder was putting a few things in the old giant Maxwell House Coffee™ tin that was used as an advertisement stunt way back in the day, mostly junk and stuffed animals that didn't need cleaning.

Diggory was still rather hesitant with spring cleaning and was looking at the cabinet that harbored a few old trinkets and prizes from his academia. "Where did I go wrong..." he asked dramatically and sadly to himself.

Confounder looked up at Diggory but was still putting things in the tin "That awful publishing deal is where it went wrong," she said, not picking up that it was meant to be a rhetorical question.

"... Yeah," Diggory replied with a sad nod.

"Don't beat yourself over it so much, you did what you could and you trusted some people that turned out bad. It wasn't your fault."

"I know, but the Ocean Orchestra was my Magnum Opus that was supposed to jumpstart my career and now it's just... It's not."

The Confounder closed the tin "I get that, but you have to understand that something like this isn't worth burying yourself in trash and making yourself feel like trash too. Now come on, help me take this thing to the porch, something this big doesn't really belong inside."

The couple managed to carry the tin out the door and slid it beside the door before going back inskde and into Diggory's room.

"Hey, where's Muddler?" Asked Diggory, he was always the most concerned parent for the kid out of the two.

"He's probably in the bedroom looking through buttons in the drawers, you know how he loves those things," Confounder answered.

"Mhm..." Diggory nodded with a bad feeling, but he brushed it off as being hesitant about starting spring cleaning.

The two stood in front of a large tower filled with sharp things, they thought it would be a good start to get the most dangerous pile out of the way without fear of toppling it over in the process of doing something else.

"How do we take this down?" Confounder asked with arms crossed as she stared up at the tower.

"Erm... I don't know... I think you just..." Diggory said as his tried very carefully taking out a dagger's handle sticking out, thinking it wouldn't affect the tower's balance to much.

Confounder suddenly had a realization and yelled "WAIT I PUT MUDDLER IN THE COFFEE TIN-"

His wife's yelling startled Diggory as he was in the process of pulling the danger out of the pile.

And it toppled right on top of both of them.

[khaleesiofalicante]

ALEC WEEK - ALEC ANGST

“I got this one,” Alec yelled over his shoulder and ran after the demon.

Being the Consul involved a lot of desk work. While Alec did appreciate getting to stay at home with Magnus and the kids…

Well, he was a Shadowhunter after all.

He had kind of missed this. The patrols. The adrenaline.

Most of all, fighting with Jace.

So, when Jace had asked him to join him on patrol, Alec had jumped on the opportunity.

But now of course he was regretting it a little bit.

When Alec had said he wanted to kick some demon ass, he had been hoping for a dozen at most.

Not this.

They had fought almost double that so far and there was many more on the way.

Jace used to call himself a chick-magnet long time ago. But in actuality, his parabatai was a demon-magnet.

Wherever Jace went, they just seemed to hang out in hoards.

They had strategized to find the greator demon that was sending out the little minions. Alec had followed one while Jace followed another. It got darker and darker with every step until Alec found himself drowning in the night. Maybe he had wondered into a cave or something.

He quickly activated his night vision rune. But it didn’t help.

This wasn’t a cave. This was magic. Demonic magic.

“Alec!” he heard Jace yell. “Can you see anything?”

“No!” Alec yelled back.

Jace sounded like he was both close and miles away.

“This is some sort of trick,” Alec said.

“Yeah, no shit,” Jace yelled back. “Let’s get out of here.”

It was then Alec heard a low chuckle.

There was something eerily familiar about it. It sounded like someone he recognized – almost.

They were still plunged in darkness, but somehow Alec noticed a figure emerge. He pointed his bow at the man.

It looked like a man. Tall. Lean. Well built. Strong.

Oh god. Surely not another prince of hell. Haven’t they had enough of those things?

The closer it got, the faster Alec’s heart started to beat.

He knew he should run. But he didn’t.

The presence felt both like a threat and an ally at the same time.

Alec didn't want to hesitate any longer. He let the arrow fly.

The figure pulled out a bow out of nowhere and let his own arrow fly. It was like watching lightening. The figure’s arrow clashed with his own and burst into dust.

“Nice shot,” the figure said as it approached him. “Next time don’t hesitate so much. It can get you killed.”

“Jace!” Alec shouted.

But there was no response.

“Who are you?” Alec yelled at the figure.

He didn’t know why we was yelling. But it seemed like the right thing to do. His shirt was soaking in sweat, his fingers trembling slightly.

“It’s me,” the voice said.

As the figure closer, a small gasp escaped Alec’s mouth. He would recognize the figure anywhere.

Even in the depths of such darkness.

“Or should I say, it’s you.”

Alec took a step back.

It was him.

It was Alec. In shadowhunter gear. His hair out of place. His bow and quiver hanging on his side.

It was Alec and it wasn’t.

Despite all the similarities, Alec knew it wasn’t him.

This one seemed…empty.

Or full.

He didn’t know.

But what gave him away was his fingers - And the lack of his favorite and only piece of jewelry.

There was no wedding band.

“Stay back, you son of a bitch,” Alec didn’t hesitate this time.

“Is that anyway to talk about our mother?” other Alec chuckled.

“This is some sort of demonic trick,” Alec said, mostly to himself.

“Duh,” Other Alec rolled his eyes, the gesture intimately familiar.

Alec let another arrow fly but again – he just wasn’t fast enough.

It was almost as if the Other Alec knew what he was going to do.

“Of course, I know what you’re going to do,” Other Alec said. “I’m you, aren’t I?”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“I know what you’re thinking too,” Other Alec pointed out. “Right now, you’re thinking if Jace is okay.”

Alec held up his bow again even though it was pointless.

“He is okay,” Other Alec waved him off. “He has his own nightmare to deal with.”

Nightmares.

Baku.

“You’re Baku,” Alec said, feeling slightly triumphant. “Eater of dreams. Greator Demon of Nightmares.”

“Well, technically, I’m Alec Lightwood,” the demon shrugged. “Consul in Exile.”

“Alec Lightwood-Bane,” he corrected out of habit.

“Of course,” Other Alec put up his hands, his bare fingers making him more and more worried.

“What is this supposed to be?” Alec demanded. “A nightmare? I’m not scared of you.”

“Aren’t you?” Other Alec cocked his head. “You are your greatest fear, Alec.”

“Bullshit,” Alec spit. “I’m not afraid of myself. Not anymore.”

“Are we sure about that?” Other Alec asked again.

“Yes,” Alec snapped. “I can’t hurt myself anymore.”

“Well,” Other Alec shrugged. “You can still hurt others.”

Alec stared.

It was like the demon had shot him with an arrow. Right in the chest. 

“I know you, remember?” Other Alec grinned. “I’ve seen your dreams. Your nightmares.”

“You know nothing!” Alec yelled and let another arrow fly.

Useless. Other Alec dodged it effortlessly.

“How many people should keep getting hurt, Alec?” his own voiced asked himself. “How many people should get hurt because of your incomptency?”

His throat felt dry. His head ached.

He heard the questions from Other Alec who was in front of him.

But he heard them echo inside his head too. Like he was thinking these thoughts right now.

As if he had been thinking them forever.

“I’m not incompetent!” Alec said through gritted teeth.

“Say that to Max,” Other Alec sneered.

Alec’s heart clenched.

“Or Dad,” Other Alec whispered.

And then it broke.

“I-I tried,” Alec stammered. “I tried to save them.”

“You weren’t even there,” Other Alec accused.

“Stop it!” Alec let another arrow fly.

Nothing.

“You know, it’s ironic that they named you Alexander,” Other Alec chuckled. “When have you ever protected anyone? All you’ve done is hurt people.”

“Shut up!” Alec yelled.

“You tried to hurt Clary because you were angry and jealous. You did hurt Magnus because you were angry and jealous. You tried to kill Camille. You did kill Meliorn. So, who’s next?”

“I’ve changed,” Alec argued, he didn’t know why. “I’ve grown.”

“Growing into a sorry excuse of a man,” the demon laughed. “Now they’ve made you Consul. What a great opportunity to let your entire race down!”

“I won’t!” Alec yelled, even though he had had already had nightmares about this very thing. “I won’t let them down. They chose me!”

“Oh please,” Other Alec rolled his eyes. “No one would have even considered you if it wasn’t for Jace. He felt sorry for you because you never get the spotlight. And everyone who voted for you did it because they felt sorry for you because you lost dad. It was a pity vote.”

“Get out of my head!” Alec screamed. “You don’t know me. You don’t know anything.”

“On contrary,” Other Alec grinned. “I know you better than anyone.”

“Bullshit,” Alec said again.

“I’m your greatest fear, Alec,” the other man said.

“Because your cocky and rude?” Alec demanded, gaining his confidence back. “I don’t think so.”

“Because of this,” Other Alec raised his empty hand.

Alec swallowed.

“I would never remove my ring!” he said, his voice hoarse. “Never.”

“Aw,” Other Alec said. “Not even if Magnus asked you to give it back?”

The confidence that was slowly building inside him felt apart like a wave crashing into land.

“That’s right,” the man said. “He took it back. He took rafe. He left.”

“Magnus would never,” Alec said, clutching his own wedding ring.

The other Alec just grinned.

“Rafe,” Alec said suddenly. “You said he took Rafe. What happened to Max?”

Stop it. This isn’t real! But Alec couldn’t listen to that voice. Just the one before him.

“That name is cursed,” Other Alec said sadly. “Or maybe it’s just you. You’re not good enough to protect anyone.”

“Max is fine,” Alec told himself. “Max is okay. He is in the institute.”

“Not for long,” the Other Alec said in a sing song voice. “You will get him killed too. He will die. Alone and afraid. Just like your brother.”

Alec leaped at himself, but the figure simply disappeared and appeared in a different spot.

“Touched a nerve, huh?” Other Alec chuckled. “I wonder why.”

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” Alec let arrow after arrow fly.

Nothing.

“Useless,” Other Alec chuckled. “Don’t know why I’m surprised.”

“You will not touch my family!” Alec pointed an arrow. He’d stab the fucking thing to death if he had to. “Do you hear me?”

“I would never!” Other Alec sounded offended. “But can’t say the same for you though.”

“I will never hurt my family,” Alec replied, his voice getting lower and lower.

“You already have,” Other Alec pointed out. “Giving up immortality? Wow. What a slap in the face for Magnus. You know he could have had anyone, right?”

“We made the decision together!” Alec yelled. “Magnus wanted this too!”

“Of course he did, you selfish prick!” Other Alec yelled back. “He did because you did! It’s what you wanted. Because of your precious parabatai.”

“But J-Jace-” Alec stammered.

“You know,” Other Alec’s voice turned into a husky whisper, like he was sharing a secret. “Magnus knows. He has always known you would choose Jace over him.”

“This is just a dream,” Alec whispered to himself desperately. “Just a dream.”

“How about what happened in Thule?” Other Alec asked. “Was that just a dream too?”

Alec gasped.

“Never thought you’d have it in you,” Other Alec whistled. “You’re savage.”

“It wasn’t me!” Alec yelled.

“Wasn’t it?” the other man shrugged.

“All this talk about loving one man and changing the world for him and yet you killed him him with your own hands,” Other Alec shook his head in disappointment. “Magnus deserved better.”

“Don’t talk about Magnus like you know him!” Alec snapped.

“Oh fine. But I do know you, Alec Lightwood,” Other Alec moved closer. “I know your future. You might keep him happy now. But you will be his suffering. You will be his Bane.”

Images of Magnus flashed before his eyes. Magnus coping with his loss. Magnus not coping so well.

“Please,” Alec almost begged. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing at all,” the figure moved back. “I just wanted to talk.”

“You’re not gonna kill me?” Alec asked.

“What’s the fun in that?” Other Alec asked. “I’d rather keep you alive and watch you suffer.

“Get out,” Alec ordered, even though he knew he had no power.

“So sensitive,” Other Alec chuckled. “Fine. I’ll go for now. You better watch out, Alec Lightwood. Bad things are coming.”

“You stay away from, Magnus!” Alec yelled. 

“I could say the same to you,” Other Alec pouted. “Leave him. For his sake. For the sake of your childr-.”

“If you touch my kids-”

“I won’t,” Other Alec raised his hands. “But can’t say the same about their grandfather however.”

“Stay out of my head,” Alec hissed.

“No promises,” the demon of nightmares winked.

Alec felt the darkness slowly dissipate. His heartbeat getting stronger.

The shivers on his arms were just going down when he heard the voice in ear one last time.

“Oh, one last thing,” his own voice whispered. “Give my regards to Izzy.”

Alec’s body shuddered at that and he fell on his knees.

“Hey. Hey. Hey,” Jace was already by his side. “You okay?”

Alec just nodded, still trying to get back to reality.

“Dude, I’d take an army of raveners over this any day,” Jace said, looking rattled in a long time. “This shit was creepy as hell.”

“What did you see?” Alec asked.

“Some psycho version of myself. He kept talking about killing Clary,” Jace laughed, even though Alec sensed the nervousness in his voice. “As if that’s ever gonna happen.”

Alec nodded and slowly got up.

“What did you see?” Jace asked.

Alec thought of Other Alec.

The one without the ring. The one he knew would haunt his dreams every night from now on.

“Spiders,” he said. “Just stupid spiders.”

[the-fiction-witch]

Drunk Visits

TV SHOW THE QUEENS GAMBIT

COUPLE BENNY WATTS X READER

RATING FLIRTY

I woke up as I usually did, half forgotten how I even got here, no clue where I was or what had happened the night before. All I knew was in was tucked up snuggly in a metal bed, the covers around me as if someone had put them there I pushed them off me heading out the bed and touching the ice cold floor I wabbled and stumbled as I took a few steps my hands hitting a thick glass, I found the door handle pushing it open my eyes cleared a little but I didn't help my confusion

I'm at benny's… 

Why am I at benny's? 

It was empty but a mess.

I went and made myself a coffee trying to get my head straight I downer the boiling coffee and looked around the place it was a tip.

I put a record on and went to the bedroom the only clothes I could find anywhere were benny's so I slipped one of his button downs on, I went around the place gathering the trash and throwing it outside, I vacuumed the floor and washed the kitchen up setting the board up on the table from where pieces were scattered across the floor, I lit a cigarette often moving it from my lips to my fingers as I worked sorting the dungeon into somewhere mildly presentable hell is even say damn place was cosy. And just as I finished up the door opened revealing a clearly tried Benny with groceries

"Hi" I said resting my hands on my hips

"Hi" he said slipping his hat and jacket off leaving them on the hooks beside the door and dumping the groceries on the counter top fixing his hair "this what you do when you wake up somewhere you just clean?"

"Would you like your hoards of trash back in here mr Watts?"

"No. Thank you very much. I'm simply asking if you always do this"

"I don't have a habit of waking up in strange places"

"Don't you?" He glared 

"What am I doing here?"

"Beats me. I was peacefully going over last months championship games and suddenly a knock at my door and you show up off your fucking face on god only knows what,"

"Then if I wasn't partying here who made the mess?"

"Ohh you were partying. It was like setting a fucking tornado in my house" 

"Who with?"

"Yourself. While I attempted to stop you wreaking my house, and sticking your hand down my pants"

"Yeah I get dick focused when I'm drunk"

"I know."

"Did we?"

"No."

"Good. Good. Quick question Benny did I show anyone my boobs"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"Me"

"Ah. I'm sorry"

"It's fine. It's the price."

"What?"

"You do this alot y/n I've just kinda accepted it. Every month or so you go out and get drunk, you for some reason always end up at my house and you wreck it, I accept it because it's the trade I allow this to happen and I get to see boob and you clean my house the next day. Honestly the house was kinda a messy anyway I was waiting for your visit" 

"Whatever Benny whatever floats your boat. Why was I in your bed then?"

"I shut you in the bedroom, I usually do you end up just falling asleep hugging my pillow, most times I move you onto the airbed but airbed has a hole so I just left you in my room"

"Where did you sleep?"

"On my chair why?"

".... Benny are you lieing to me?"

"No" 

"Then why are your clothes in the bedroom" 

".... They were from previous evenings"

"Why was the other half of the bed unmade?"

"........... Ghosts" 

"Did you have sex with me?"

"Yes" he sighed 

"Damn it!" 

"I'm sorry. I'm not made of stone okay you kept offering to suck my dick"

"Wait did I?"

"Yes"

"Ohh no. That's the weird taste in my mouth." I groaned "Benny I don't care how mad I'll be if I sucked your dick please open with that!" I complained quickly washing my mouth out but I could still taste it "why does it kinda taste like marshmallows?"

"I don't know. But your not the only person who's told me that lately"

"How many dick sucking reports are you receiving on a monthly basis Benny?"

"Usually two. You and sometimes clio" 

"How often does this happen?"

"Like once a month, you usually make me have sex with you too some capacity. This time it was on the floor"

"What was it last month?"

"On the shower, I told you to sit and sober up but you climbed in my shower and had sex with me"

"Benny I live in literally the other side of new york"

"I know. And yet this keeps happening your like a homing pigeon when your drunk and you for some reason always end up at my house"

"I'm sorry Benny"

"It's fine. I'm used to you" he sighed "and I get sex out of it so" he shrugs

"You can just have sex with me when I'm sober you know?"

"You don't usually want to when you sober up" 

"Ehh I still want to" 

[moonflowerlesbians]

41 and 45 please. Just can't get enough of your stories

first of all you're so sweet 🥺 second, I did these and I batched in another one for a longer story and the obligatory soft nightmare fic, so I hope that's okay :)

18. "I'm embarrassed." "Don't be." 41. "Is that my shirt?" "Is...is that okay?" 45. "Don't say anything. Just...just lay here with me."

cw for mentions of child abuse

~~~

The motel bed is empty when Dani drifts awake, feeling in the dark for the warm mass that indicates Jamie is sound asleep beside her. Instead, empty air and rumpled sheets greet her, and she frowns. Still lingering in that semi-sweet state of half-consciousness, somewhere between dream and reality, she registers the shadow of the bathroom light through the crack in the door, which stands slightly agape.

Ah.

She rolls over, tugging the duvet over her exposed arms and sparing a quick glance at the clock on the nightstand 3:27 a.m., it reads. Dani yawns and readjusts the pillow supporting her neck. The doctor had said it would help with the stiffness in her shoulders and upper back in the morning, said she had a tendency to sleep curled up like she was protecting herself. Unsurprising, she had thought at the time.

Long minutes pass, faint moonlight trickling through sheer curtains to adorn the carpeted floors with tigerstripes of silver and blue. Dani rolls over again, flipping onto her stomach, her arm coming to rest alongside her head. Jamie’s pillow remains vacant. Dani sighs.

The floor is bracing beneath her bare feet, and she recoils, suddenly regretting the decision to leave the relative warmth of the blankets. Steeling herself, she pads across the room. Dim light filters under the bathroom door, and she can make out muted noises from within.

“Hey,” Dani says quietly, giving the wood three light raps with her knuckles. “You okay?” The noises stop.

“’M fine,” Jamie’s voice comes muffled through the door. “Y’can go back to bed.”

Another night, maybe, Dani would have listened. Another time, perhaps, if she had not spent weeks, months, learning the intricacies and peculiarities of Jamie’s vocal pattern, Dani would have returned to the comfort of their queen bed and fallen back into a pleasant sleep. At another time, maybe, Dani would have ignored the hoarseness of Jamie’s voice, the sandpaper-rough scratch of the syllables against her throat, the subtle distress cloaked in a layer of false nonchalance.

Dani rests her forehead against the cool wood, the metal of the doorknob in one hand. “Can I come in?”

Silence, for a moment, then shuffling. The click of an unlatched lock. “Yeah.”

She inches the door open. Jamie sits on the floor of the bathtub, knees drawn up to her chest. Strands of brown hair are sweat-matted to her forehead, others sticking up haphazardly, streaked through with shaky finger lines. Grey eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, with a tired stare that wrenches at Dani’s heart.

“You got room in there for one more?” Dani says gently, crossing to crouch on the tile floor.

Jamie breathes shakily. “Sure.” She slides to make room for Dani, who sits cross-legged, her knees bent at a slightly awkward angle due to the nature of the tub. From this new perspective, she can see the piece of fabric balled tight between Jamie’s thighs and her chest.

“Is that my shirt?”

Jamie swallows, a flash of alarm flickering across her features, and her voice is small, so small and so, so frail. “Is... is that okay?”

Dani’s brow furrows. “No, um, yes, yeah, that’s... that’s okay.”

Jamie mumbles something that Dani doesn’t quite catch.

“Sorry?”

“Was in the dirty pile, so I thought... Doesn’t matter. Should’ve asked.” She can’t quite meet Dani’s gaze, and she’s gripping the lilac sweater so hard her knuckles have gone white.

“No, it’s okay. It’s fine,” Dani says, trying her very best to sound reassuring and not as though she’s talking to a cornered animal.

Jamie has not been forthcoming when it comes to information about herself, not since the night before... well. It has been nearly four months since leaving Bly, and Dani feels a bit like an archaeologist, uncovering fragments of a broken past little by little. Some days, she finds nothing, not even an arrowhead, something to point her in the right direction. Other days, it is as if she discovers a bit of parchment thought lost to civilization, a scrap of knowledge to help translate the whole. A perfectly preserved piece of Jamie in the form of a passport, a solitary photograph from a time Jamie no longer speaks of, the dogeared pages of a beat-up paperback.

“Do you think,” Dani begins, cautious, slow, “you could tell me...why?” There is an out she leaves. A minute shake of Jamie’s head, and she would back away, drop the subject at her feet for another day.

Jamie peers at her through clumped lashes. “Which bit?” She asks with a sardonic sort of chuckle, swiping at her nose. “The bit about your jumper or the bit about being a blubbering mess at three in the goddamn mornin’.”

“Both, if you’re up for it.”

Jamie studies her, blinking in the hazy light as though searching for something, like she expects Dani to laugh as if she’s the butt of a sorry joke.

“Yeah,” she says at last, “yeah, okay.” She takes a shuddering breath. “Told you ‘bout bein’ in the system, foster and prison, yeah?”

Dani watches her intently, hands in her lap, an expression of concern firmly situated on her face. She nods, though she knows only the bare minimum. They skirt precariously around the topic when it comes up.

The extent of her knowledge comes from studying Jamie’s reactions to her environment. The way she shirks from loud noises. The clatter of plates breaking in a restaurant, an engine backfiring in an alley. The way she scans every room before she enters, eyes lingering on corners and curtains, and checks the backseat of their rental car. The way she hoards buttons and pop tabs and coins at the bottom of her suitcase, and the way she methodically counts her things before they leave any motel and recounts them when they arrive at their destination.

Habits formed out of necessity in a life of cruelty, a life in which letting her guard down could mean the difference between life and death. A life she no longer lives, but a life that stays with her all the same.

“Had a dream,” Jamie says carefully, her voice almost too loud in the stillness of the morning, “Hardly remember the details now, but... Think I was in my third home. Fourth, maybe. The dad was a drunk. You could always smell it on his breath. Heavy footsteps you could hear coming.” She glances at Dani. “I couldn’t hear him this time. I think he threw a bottle at me, not sure, though. I couldn’t move, couldn’t yell, couldn’t fight back.” Her chest heaves, and Dani reaches out, then thinks better of it. She retracts her hand, leaving it palm-up on her knee for Jamie to take if she chooses.

“Hate being trapped,” she whispers, eyes darting around the bathroom, “Spent too long in places I couldn’t get out of.” She tentatively takes Dani’s hand, still avoiding eye contact. “I woke up ‘n still couldn’t breathe. Didn’t want to wake you up, so I came here.” She fiddles with the tag on Dani’s sweater, murmuring, “It’s not the same, but it was close enough. Smells enough like you that I could pretend.” At last, she looks up, waterline shining with unshed tears. “Bloody embarrassing.”

“Oh, baby...” Dani croons softly, squeezing her outstretched hand. “Can I... Is it okay if I hold you?”

Jamie sniffles, but nods her assent with a heavy sigh. Dani shifts so that she’s reclining against the slope of the tub, with Jamie comfortably settled between her legs, curled on her side, with her head on Dani’s chest. The sweater is pressed between them, the material grasped tightly in Jamie’s fist.

Dani weaves her fingers through the hair at the nape of Jamie’s neck, lightly scratching her scalp with blunt nails. Jamie shivers at the contact.

“’M embarrassed,” Jamie mumbles into the bunched fabric of Dani’s pajama top.

“Don’t be,” Dani says simply, her head resting on the white shower tile. She cannot tell if the flush rising to Jamie’s cheeks is because of the sweater or waking up in the middle of the night or both, and frankly, Dani decides, it does not matter.

It’s unusual, seeing Jamie like this. Vulnerable. Raw. Dani can count the number of times she’s seen Jamie cry on two fingers.

Once, in the aftermath of the lake, they had held each other close in the lamplight of Dani’s bedroom at Bly and wept for all that had happened and all they had lost, great heaving sobs that tore through walls and rafters and flesh and bone.

The second time, just now, with Jamie trembling in her arms.

She takes such measures to remain steadfast, resolute in her dependability, all hard angles and rigidity. A suave exterior carefully constructed to deter those who would attempt to breach her defenses. Cannons on the parapet he keeps loaded with snark and bite and sturdy shoes, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.

She had opened up to Dani, though, a privilege Dani does not vilipend. Took the risk and raised the portcullis to allow Dani to pass through to the inner walls, closer to the center, but not quite there. There was more to discover, Dani knew then and knows now, but patience is vital. Stability. The reassurance that she means no harm.

“Can...Why’d you think you needed my permission?” Dani clarifies, “For my sweater.” Jamie stirs against her, the weight warm and familiar.

“Don’t take things without asking,” Jamie recites despondently, and the weight of the statement catches Dani off-guard. The resignation in her tone, the rhythm of the words are indicative of a phrase spoken over and over again, well-worn and thoroughly beaten into the track of her mind.

(Perhaps, Dani fears in some dark corner of herself, it was not only Jamie’s mind. She thinks of trainers with holes in the sole, bits of cheese swiped from the refrigerator and promptly hidden, and wonders about a little girl left with no one but herself and callous adults who neglect and belittle.)

Dani finds herself shaking her head.

“It’s okay,” she says into the crown of Jamie’s head, her breath rustling wayward strands. “I mean, I’d appreciate a heads up if you want to borrow something of mine just so I don’t think something’s gone missing, but for this?” She pauses, choking on an inconvenient swell of emotion. “God, please, take it. Or wake me up or something, but... you’re not alone.”

Jamie is still, her breath coming in slow, measured puffs against Dani’s chest.

Dani tries, “Most of my stuff isn’t really your style, anyway. Not that I think you couldn’t rock a pink turtleneck.” She considers. “Actually, I’d kind of like to see that.”

The mental picture earns her a wet laugh from Jamie, and that is enough for now, Dani thinks.

“But, you know, if this happens again -- you wake up in the middle of the night -- please, wake me up, too, okay?”

“Still getting used to you, ‘s’all.”

“I know, baby, I know.”

They lay there in the bottom of the questionable motel bathtub until the quiver of Jamie’s shoulders recedes into a steady enough rhythm, in time with the rise and fall of Dani’s chest.

“Come on,” Dani nudges, “think you want to get back in bed?”

“Shit,” Jamie jolts upwards, taking them both by surprise, “God, sorry. Sorry. I’ve kept you up long enough.”

“No, no,” Dani assures, running a hand along Jamie’s upper arm, “I just thought the mattress might be more comfortable for you than I am.”

“Unlikely,” Jamie scrutinizes. She rubs her eyes once more and climbs out of the tub, offering a hand for Dani to lift herself up, which proves more difficult than anticipated on account of Dani’s leg having fallen asleep. She wraps an arm around Jamie’s waist, separating for an instant to nestle beneath cool sheets, then finding each other again.  

“Sorry,” Jamie says to the darkness, the hum of the radiator providing the rattling soundtrack to her unnecessary apology.

“Shh,” Dani soothes, her nails spelling out words from covert languages on the skin of Jamie’s back, “Don’t say anything. Just… just lay here with me. We’ll talk in the morning.” Jamie’s grip tightens on her shirt. “Try to get some rest, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

She brushes the ghost of a kiss along Jamie’s hairline, smoothing down the wisps that tickle her nose.

4:14 a.m., the clock reads.

Dani does not close her eyes until she feels Jamie’s muscles slacken, the tension leaching away into cotton and dream. Then, and only then, does she allow sleep to claim her.

[hopelesshawks]

Physical Fatality Part 9- Cruelty

18+ Hawks x fem, pro hero!reader

Summary: You’re a rising star in All Might’s agency. Hawks is the darling of Endeavor’s. By virtue of your job descriptions, the two of you are supposed to hate each other, or at the very least be cautiously neutral. For a long time that’s exactly what the two of you did. You stayed out of each other’s way and formed little opinion of the other. One fateful night at an HPSC gala changes all that. Based on the album Hopeless Fountain Kingdom by Halsey.

If you don’t want to see Physical Fatality content blacklist #hopelesspf

This story will have multiple NSFW parts so it is 18+ ONLY minors dni

Warnings for alcoholism

Masterlist

“No Hawks.”

“Why won’t you at least let me explain?”

“Because I suspect your explanation for why you ripped my heart out despite, supposedly, still being in love with me is going to piss me the fuck off and we have a red carpet to walk in a few minutes.”

“You always have an excuse for why we can’t talk. We never see each other at work anymore-“

“Hmm, I wonder why? It’s almost like someone’s bullshit got me kicked off the task force.”

“Not my point. I would talk to you at your place but your roommate stops me every time!”

“I always did like Mina.”

“Jesus you’re fucking impossible. I just want to make things right!”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have fucked them up in the first place.”

“I can’t change the past.”

“And I can’t deal with my feelings for you on top of trying to salvage my fucking career.”

“So you admit there are still feelings?”

“How is that your takeaway from that sentence?”

It’s been about three days since the article about you and Hawks dropped. You are about four minutes from a heart attack and you think Hawks may be a maniac but he doesn’t know it. Your ride to another bullshit HPSC event stops and your door is opened to reveal a red carpet and a hoard of paparazzi awaiting your arrival. You and Hawks had just been fighting in your limousine but they don’t know. They can never know. So Hawks steps out and carefully smooths out his designer suit before reaching a hand down to help you out of the car. You take his hand and gracefully step out in your equally designer shoes and dress. You smile at each other as if your love is pure and uncomplicated. You smile at the paparazzi as if they aren’t the bane of your existence. You smile as you make your way into the event as if you aren’t literally dreading it. It honestly makes you feel nauseous. But this is the reality of modern day hero work. It’s as much about image and politics as it is about saving people, no matter how ridiculous you think that is.

You wish Bakugo and Midoriya were here so you’d at least have some uncomplicated friendly faces but they’re probably off doing actual hero work. You get the honor of shaking the hands of wealthy donors to the HPSC and interacting with heroes you’d probably recognize if you hadn’t been black out drunk at the last ranking ceremony. “I’ll grab us drinks,” Hawks sighs in a rare break the two of you have between meeting people. “I think that’s the first smart thing you’ve said all night,” you reply. He resists the temptation to roll his eyes as he tells you he’ll be right back and walks towards the bar. He isn’t gone long before you hear a deep voice behind you say, “I heard you were removed from the task force.” It takes everything in you not to launch Endeavor through the window as you turn to face him. “Unfortunately yes. All Might felt it was unwise for me to be on a task force with someone I was romantically involved with,” you reply as professionally as possible considering you’re still trying to figure out if the satisfaction of yeeting this prick out the window would be worth getting fired. “So I guess your little plan backfired on you then,” Endeavor says smugly. “My little plan?” “Your plan to use Hawks to climb the hero charts and gain insight into my agency.” You stare at the man in front of you and blink at him a few times. “I’m sorry can you just say that one more time?” you ask dumbfounded. This throws Endeavor off for a moment but then he clears his throat and repeats, “Your plan to use Hawks to-“ “Ok yea no that’s what I thought you said,” you say cutting him off. “I know this may be hard for you to hear but uhm, not everything is about you,” you sigh exasperatedly. “I am aware but-“ “No, no. Shut the fuck up, no but’s. There was no plan. I was just dumb enough to fall in love with your stupid ass Golden boy. Some of us are actually content just saving people regardless of some dumb, arbitrary ranking.” “Oh.” A pause. “What the fuck do you mean oh?” “I don’t owe you an explanation and you should watch how you talk to me.” “No one is paying attention to us right now, I’m not watching shit.” “Regardless you risk causing a scene.” “Oh my god, did you share your little theory with Hawks?” you press, and the sheepish look on his face is answer enough but then Hawks returns to your side, two drinks in hand, looking between you and Endeavor curiously. “Am I interrupting something?” Hawks asks with a raised eyebrow. “Babe could we talk privately for a moment?” you ask with a saccharine tone. “Uhh, sure,” Hawks replies. Next thing he knows you’re tugging him away from Endeavor and out of the banquet hall.

It pains him to realize how like and unlike this is to the first time the two of you met. The sly look Kamui Woods gives him as the two of you pass by makes him a little nauseous in all honesty. Probably because if he hadn’t fucked up so royally then maybe the two of you would be sneaking away for the reason the other man thinks right now. Instead he’s sure he’s about to get an earful because of whatever Endeavor had said to you. Eventually you tug him into a supply closet, using your quirk to find and flick on the light switch before closing the two of you into the tight space. He realizes it’s the first time you’ve been this close to him without a camera or another person nearby. “Hawks,” you start and and it hurts. It hurts every time you use his hero name when the two of you are alone. He misses the way his real name sounded on your tongue. He misses the fondness you used to have in your tone when you used it. He misses the way you’d sometimes shorten it to ‘Kei’. He misses it so much so that without thinking he interrupts you to say “Don’t call me that when we’re alone.” You ignore the interruption and that hurts too. “Did you break up with me because Endeavor told you I was just using you?” you ask him and all the air rushes out of his lungs. Finally you knew what he’d been trying to tell you for the past few days since everything went to shit. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. I never stopped loving you (y/n) but I got scared and I’m so sorry. I never should have listened to him,” Hawks sighs and it feels like a weight off to finally tell you. “So it wasn’t that you didn’t love me,” you start and Hawks feels his broken heart starting to put itself back together, “it was just that you didn’t love me enough to have faith in me.”

Wait, what?

No. No, no, no this isn’t how it’s supposed to go. Everything was supposed to get better once you found out the truth behind the break up. So why, then, do you look so distraught? “No, baby, no that’s not it,” he tries to assure you but you shake your head. “Isn’t it? You love me but not enough to hear out my side of the story before you dumped me. You love me but not enough to ignore the words of a man I’ve never had a full conversation with prior to today,” you point out. “I was just scared. He threatened my career and I just-“ “Just what? Hawks I can count on one hand the number of people who have genuinely had faith in me. That makes it really important to me. I thought I could count you as one of them.” “Hey, that’s not fair. I have faith in you but if you were in my shoes you would’ve made the same decision.” “And what shoes were those exactly?” “The shoes of someone hearing a man they’ve known and trusted for years tell them all the reasons why they’re an idiot to trust the woman they just met a few months prior.” “I didn’t realize I gave so many reasons for you not to trust me.” “That’s not what I meant and you know it. As dumb as I think the rivalry is it’s no secret that the lower ranks in both our agencies still believe in it and up until a year ago that was you.” “You could’ve asked.” “Maybe so but he also pointed out that there’s no way you couldn’t have fucking known who I was considering I’m the only hero with bright red fucking wings on my back,” Hawks grits out and as if on cue his wings are flaring and puffing up in the small space as if to emphasize his point. “Oh....” you trail off.

You have to admit he has a point on the last one. Sure, he could’ve asked. But Hawks never knew how problematic your drinking habits could be. Once the two of you got together you started getting sober so you hadn’t seen a reason to mention it. If he had asked you directly you don’t know that you would’ve been able to tell him the truth and that would’ve seemed to confirm Endeavor’s theory. “Yea, ‘oh’,” Hawks says and you almost wish you could hear more resentment in his tone instead of resignation because you are still so, so angry with him but you’re starting to see his side now and you hate it. At least if he resented you there wouldn’t be as much guilt for the blind rage you’d channeled his way. “That’s the one piece I still can’t make fit to be honest. Why���d you pretend not to recognize me?” he asks and if you didn’t still love him you’d probably give a half assed lie and be done with it. But you do, and he sounds so fucking heartbroken that you decide he at least deserves the truth. “I never gave a shit about the hero rankings. Who cares if you’re number 1 or number 50 as long as you’re saving people, y’know? So I never watched the ranking ceremony on tv and the one year I went in person I got black out drunk beforehand because Monoma was finally in the top 10 and he was being absolutely unbearable and I knew he’d continue to be for the rest of the night. So I drank and now I don’t remember any of it. I literally don’t know what any hero I haven’t directly worked with looks like. I know the names but couldn’t match them to faces for the life of me. Even with your ‘bright red fucking wings’. Bakugo actually gave me shit for it when I realized who you are,” you explain. “Would you have told me all that if I had asked you then?” he asks. “Probably not,” you admit. The kiss afterwards is unexpected but not unwelcome.

Hawks doesn’t consciously decide to kiss you. It’s just one moment you’re admitting you may not have been able to dispel his concerns and the next he’s reaching for you. He doesn’t regret it though. The moment your lips touch it’s like a missing piece of him has slotted back into place. It quickly grows heated and his hands find their way to your waist to reel you in closer and closer until there’s hardly any space between the two of you. He’s missed this so much it’s been a physical ache and he pours every bit of that pain and regret and heartache and love and hope, such agonizingly desperate hope, into the kiss, praying it will convey even a fraction of what he’s been feeling the past few days. Praying that maybe he can reach you and the two of you can go back to the bliss you enjoyed before he let Endeavor get in his head and ruin things. But then he feels wetness on his cheeks and when he pulls back to look at you he realizes you’re crying. “Why are you crying Love?” he asks as he reaches both hands up to cup your face and wipe the tears away. “Because if you feel even a fraction of what I feel when I kiss you, I don’t know how you could ever think it was fake,” you confess and it shatters his heart all over again. “(Y/n), I-“ “I wanna go home.” “Ok, I’ll fly us back to mine and we can-“ “No Hawks. My home. My apartment. I need... I need time.” “Ok.”

The two of you sneak out of the event. The tabloids will likely be flooded with headlines about how you and Hawks are so madly in love you had to sneak away for a supply closet tryst only to realize that wasn’t enough and decide to just bail on the event entirely. They’ll be wrong, of course, but it’s better they run that than the truth. Neither you nor Hawks says a word as he flies you to your apartment. Only once you’re standing in your open doorway does Hawks pipe up. “I have to leave tomorrow for a mission,” he says. “Task force?” you ask, although you’re not sure if you want to know the answer. “Yea. Task force,” he confirms. “Oh.” “Yea.” “Ok. How long will you be gone?” “I don’t know but at least a week.” “So I get a week’s break from the circus,” you say and part of you knows it’s a cruel thing to say, but another part of you says it’s only cruel if he actually cares for you as much as he claims to. “Yea, I guess so,” he says and he sounds so goddamn sad. You’re hurting him. You’re hurting him and you wish you could make yourself stop but you can’t. “Goodnight Hawks,” you sigh and then you close the door before he can respond. He stands staring at the closed door for a long while. You can tell by the shadow underneath the door. Eventually though he sighs and you hear him walk away with heavy, defeated steps.

Which is crueler: Him hurting you unintentionally because he never gave you the chance to explain? Or you intentionally breaking his heart the way he broke yours? You suspect you won’t like the answer so you go to the kitchen to grab a drink and try and forget you even posed the question in the first place.

You told Hawks his time away would be a break. In actuality it was agony. You went to work and then you went home. Bakugo and Midoriya were getting worried but work kept them busy enough you could avoid their questions and their concern and their judgment for the most part. “Why don’t you just talk to him?” Midoriya had asked one day. “She doesn’t owe him shit,” Bakugo had scoffed. “Maybe not,” Midoriya had acknowledged before turning back to you to say “but that doesn’t change the fact that the two of you love each other and you’re the one who decided to fake the relationship to the press. Even if you guys don’t start a real relationship again the least you could do is make sure you aren’t actively making each other miserable.” “I’ll think about it,” you had replied, but you decidedly didn’t think about it.

It’s been two weeks now since Hawks went away. You miss him. You wander into your kitchen, grab a bottle of Cabernet, open it, and are turning to lock yourself in your room when you nearly bump into an unfamiliar man with blonde hair with a single, lightning shaped black streak. “Who the fuck are you?” you ask once you’ve recovered. The man looks shaken by the question and a tad bit intimidated. “I’m, uh, Denki. Your new roommate? Mina introduced us the other day. You said hi, told me not to let Hawks in if he shows up, and then locked yourself in your room,” he explains sheepishly. You have zero recollection of this. You were probably drunk when it happened. “Oh... Well I’m (y/n) in case I forgot to mention it before,” you awkwardly introduce yourself before stepping around him. “See you around I guess,” you call over your shoulder before going back to your room and locking the door behind you.

You’re about halfway through the bottle of wine when it hits you what a sad sight this is. You’re wasting a perfectly good Saturday sitting at home alone and drinking by yourself in your locked room. The press would have a field day if they knew. You go to take another swig from the bottle, you’re far too sober to deal with everything you’re feeling right now, when you suddenly hear the sound of your lock shifting. You dismiss it at first as Mina trying the door to come check on you, but then it suddenly swings open to reveal Denki kneeling on the ground with a bobby pin looking accomplished and a nervous but determined looking Hawks standing behind him. “I thought I told you not to let him in,” you find yourself saying as you try to process what’s happening. Denki shrugs. “Seemed like you two could use a good chat,” he says before walking away. Hawks steps into the room and closes the door back behind him. “We need to talk. For real this time. I just.... Please give me a chance to explain or, or, to just prove to you that my feelings are real or something. Anything. Please,” he begs. Hawks has always been able to play you like a violin, hitting just the right notes to get your stubborn ass to bend, even if he doesn’t seem to realize it. A voice in the back of your head reminds you it’s doubtful he realizes considering all you’ve done is treat him cruelly since that tabloid came out. He deserves some of your ire. He doesn’t deserve all of it. “Don’t you think this is a conversation that should be had sober?” you ask, raising the half empty bottle of Cabernet for emphasis. “You just got off work a little while ago which means that’s the only bottle you’ve been working on. We both know it takes way more than half a bottle of wine to get you drunk,” he points out and he’s got you there. You’re out of excuses and honestly he probably does deserve a conversation. After all, Midoriya wasn’t wrong. You had no good reason to continue to deny Hawks at this point.

“Fine, let’s talk.”

Author’s Note: THIS HURT ME TO WRITE BUT WE OUT HERE. Hawks and (y/n)’s relationship is so complicated at this point and it’s interesting to write but it’s also hard and painful to write because you want them to be happy and in love but there is so much outside of them now that is involved in their relationship. Anyway suffer with me ig 🥲❤️

Taglist [open]: @akkaso @cathy8taffy @eeppff @iikillerkitteh @pixelwisp @pokesosa @lildockel @bread0nhead