#oops. cat stuck in the wall :) good fucking luck

[hhunjins]

Pairing: Changbin x gender neutral reader (with housemate Minho)

Genre: college!au, fluff, lowkey strangers to lovers

Word Count: ~4,600

Warnings: Alcohol, language

Notes: I started this almost three weeks in advance but I still ended up posting late so…oops. Hope you guys enjoy it nevertheless! Happy 20th to the buffest smol boy I know! You deserve all the happiness!

Summary: Changbin was nothing like you thought he was, and maybe, just maybe this party might not turn out so bad.

Every moment that passes by is another one spent in regret. Minho is currently getting shitfaced on the other side of the room and having the time of his life, so you’re stuck sitting in a spinning barstool as tipsy college students continue to yell around you.

Listening to Minho is always a hit or miss, mostly misses, but your housemate was so adamant about dragging you to his frat’s party that you felt like you had to indulge him this once. You regretted it the moment you heard the party from a block away. Minho’s gleeful expression as he pulled up to the curb and dragged you out of the car with a firm hand wrapped around your wrist eased the swirling in your stomach a bit but then he ditched you for his friends and now you’re lonely.

While you knew everyone here, it wasn’t like you could hold a conversation with them. They were Minho’s friends, and you were Minho’s other friend. Two different worlds that didn’t mix. But at least they were nice and offered you drinks.

You make another rotation in your seat, using your feet to spin yourself around in the chair as you fiddle with your phone. The air is hot and somewhat sticky from how many people there are packed into this house, even spilling out into the front and back yard. You’re surprised the cops haven’t been called but living in a college town where the majority of the residents were students has its perks. After all, Saturday nights are the best time to drink to forget. If only you dared, of course. Minho called you a wholesome child but, in your defense, if you went as far as Minho, there would be no one to get him into bed and deal with his whiny ass when he wakes up the next day with a massive hangover. It was more of a favor for him than anything, but Minho would beg to differ.

“Hello!”

You flinch when you feel an arm sling itself over your shoulders and a head press against your shoulder. “Hi, Felix,” you say when you recognize the familiar weight of the boy who loves to cling onto you whenever possible.

Felix grins lazily, leaning even more into your personal space and draping his entire body over your back like a cat. “I didn’t know you were into this life.” He speaks slowly, like he’s processing his words as they come from his mouth. His cheeks are warm, and his cheeks are dusted pink. “Why are you sitting here being lonely?”

“Minho dragged me here,” you say, as if it answers anything.

But it seems to suffice since Felix lets out a low hum. He swivels you side to side on the chair, twisting his body just enough to create movement. “I’m going to get something to drink,” he mumbles after a while.

“Okay.”

And then Felix’s warmth is gone from your back.

You make another round on your chair, daring to swing your legs back and forth just a bit to give yourself something to focus on. The way the zippers on your jeans reflect the dim light when you sit at the perfect angle. The way your hands are clammy as they grip your phone because you want to leave but Minho has the keys to his car and he’s not going to let you go without a fight.

Though you’re slumped over in your seat, Felix’s blond head catches your eye as it bobs around in the sea of dark hair. He appears a few moments later, walking slowly and holding his cup with two hands like he’s cradling something precious. His eyes are trained on it, to the point where he’s almost cross eyed, as he inches closer and closer to you as if walking faster than snail’s pace would spill his drink.

At this point, you’re sure Felix is at least halfway gone because normal Felix is kind of an idiot, but not like this. He looks up when he’s about two (large) steps away from you and gives you a look like a child during Christmas. “This is for you!” he says.

It’s kind of like a movie, how everything seems to move as fast as Felix did in the next few seconds. Like someone slow-moed this exact moment just to make you suffer. It takes a simple elbow to his back to knock him off balance and Felix’s drink goes flying right into your white shirt. If life were a comedy, there would be the corny recorded laugh track going off in the background because you’re stunned into silence as Felix stares at this cup on the floor.

You knew you shouldn’t have come.

Apparently all the money Minho pays for his dues doesn’t go towards decent toilet paper because your shirt is still soaked and there are flecks of it stuck to the fabric where it rubbed off with your incessant dabbing. Felix is groaning right outside, probably slumped against the wall beside the door as he mumbles apologies through sniffles. You’re not sure if it’s the alc that’s getting to him or if he’s actually so sad about the drink that he’s crying, but your desperation to go home is too high to be thinking about Felix’s hurt feelings.

It takes a moment to process Felix’s slow “hey” and the door to the bathroom suddenly opening with a loud slam against the wall, but then you’re face to face with Seo Changbin, who looks surprisingly sober as he stares back.

“Oh. Sorry, but I really need to use the bathroom.”

You wince. “Okay.” You roll out a handful of toilet paper around your hand and slip out the door.

“Ah, wait.” Changbin’s hand is warm as it wraps around your wrist and you stare at the hand for a moment before looking up at him with a raised eyebrow.

Changbin seems to be surprised himself at the touch but he immediately lets go of your wrist and begins shrugging off his hoodie jacket. “To cover your,” he gestures vaguely at the wet stain on your shirt and gives you a pitying look as he says, “I’ll find you some paper towels that might help better.” Then he nudges you into the dim hallway by swatting the air like he’s shooing a fly.

The hoodie in your hand is soft and still has his body heat clinging onto its fibers. You’re not sure if you’re more shocked that Seo Changbin is here out of all places, that he talked to you, or that he gave you his hoodie like you were close friends.

“Y/n?” Felix tugs at your pant leg. “I’m sorry,” he says, eyes wide and pouty like that one Puss in Boots meme floating around on the internet.

“Felix, it’s fine.”

“I tried to stop him,” Felix continues. His fist is still holding onto your jeans. “He walked in anyway.”

“It’s really fine, Felix. I think we need to get you to bed though.” The words come out with a little soulless laugh. You can’t really believe your luck. Dragged to a frat party you didn’t really want to go to and now you’re going to be D.D. for your economics seatmate because he can’t even walk straight. What a night. You squat so you’re eye to eye and put a both hands on either sides of his cheeks, wad of toilet paper forgotten. “Did you drive here?”

Light spills out from the bathroom when the door opens again and you flinch a little at the sudden brightness.

“Uh, am I interrupting something?” Changbin questions. He raises his hands in mock surrender when you raise an eyebrow. “Okay. Nothing. Sorry,” he says quickly. “Lix, you okay?”

Felix lets out a sleepy mumble and promptly slumps forward into your shoulder. Out like a fucking light.

“Umm, would you happen to have somewhere to let him sleep?” you ask as you maneuver Felix into a position where his head isn’t digging into your collarbone.

“Do you know where he lives? I’ll just take him home.” Changbin gives you a hesitant smile, just a little tug of the corner of his lip, as he squats down beside you to poke Felix’s cheek. “I don’t think leaving him here would be a good idea.”

In all the years you’ve known Changbin, this is probably the most you’ve ever talked to him since…ever. He was always kind of untouchable, but not because he was way out of your league or popular at any point from elementary to high school. Actually, he was that weird kid everyone kind of avoided because he was always wearing black, even in sweltering hot, humid summers and hunched over a desk or any hard surface while scribbling into his barely-held-together notebook.

And that was why it was so weird to see him at 11 a.m. at a party because you never would have taken awkward, quiet Seo Changbin to be a frat boy. College changes people you guess.

You let out a small noise of assent as you struggle to stand while balancing Felix’s weight against you. Your still damp shirt presses against your skin again and makes you cringe all over again at the feeling.

Without a word, Changbin lifts Felix from your grip. “Help him onto my back. My car’s just down the block.”

All the times you’ve compared Felix to a cat is nothing compared to the way he is curled up in the backseat with his head on your lap…like a cat. Your pat his head mindlessly as you watch Changbin’s eyes flitter occasionally to check his mirrors through the rearview mirror.

Changbin drives consistently, carefully, unlike Minho’s random bursts of speed and quick braking. You’re not sure if he’s purposefully going slow so Felix doesn’t throw up all over his car but you’re thankful for a smooth ride nevertheless.

“Make a right. It’s the third building. You can probably just park in the street. I’ll call his roommate.” How you seem to know everyone in Minho’s circle of friends will always be a miracle, and for once you’re thankful that he’s a social butterfly that somehow snagged every useful phone number out there.

Changbin drums his fingers against the wheel as he changes lanes and follows your directions.

To say Jeongin is annoyed when he picks up is putting it lightly, but he grumbles that he’ll be out to collect his “lightweight bother of a friend” after he finishes this round of Smash.

Changbin has found a parking spot during your lengthy call with Jeongin and has the windows rolled down. The crisp night air is refreshing to inhale and you roll up the sleeves of Changbin’s hoodie so your arms can feel it too.

“He’s here.” Changbin’s voice breaks the silence and you look to see Jeongin walking towards the car with an angry pout. It would be great teasing material if his roommate wasn’t passed out on your lap. Poor boy.

You open the door and scoot out first, letting Changbin carefully coax Felix out of the backseat when he appears by your side. “Alright, Lix. Time for bed okay? Be good to Jeongin.”

Felix’s incoherent babbling might be an indicator that he still has some consciousness but, judging from the way Jeongin has to shift his weight to balance, that might just be him sleep-talking.

“Watch my car? I think Jeongin needs help.”

You nod and cross your arms over your chest. “Okay.”

When Changbin returns ten minutes later, he finds you sitting on the curb in front of his car, bright light from your phone illuminating your face. “Do you want to go home or back to the–”

“Home. Please.” The part of you that isn’t super drained shudders at the prospect of returning to that place. Instead, you flap your arms so the sleeves of Changbin’s hoodies are unrolled and then pull them to cover your hands. “I don’t think I’d ever go back.”

Changbin laughs a little at that, offering you a hand and pulling you upwards. “Actually do you want ice cream before I take you back? I’m craving.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Somehow, ice cream ends up being sitting on the trunk of Changbin’s 2010 Civic in your driveway as you hold your half of a twin popsicle while pointing out tiny, flickering stars in the sky. Changbin has long finished it, biting through it like the heathen he is, and is leaning back on the back window with a little cup of vanilla ice cream while sucking on the wooden stick used to scoop it.

For some reason, this doesn’t feel awkward. You would expect it to be with how much, or rather little, history you share. Maybe it was because neither of you tried to force conversation and just let comfortable silence blanket the two of you. It’s nice. You would go to parties more often if it meant doing stuff like this afterwards with Changbin.

Wait. No. Scratch that last bit. Why did that even become a thought anyway?

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

“When was the last time you visited home?”

The list of weird things that have happened between you and Changbin in the span of two hours just keeps getting longer and longer.

“Home?” You shrug. “A month ago or so.” Glancing over at him, you ask, “What about you?”

“I haven’t come back since we went off to college,” he confesses. “There isn’t much to come back to, really.”

“Oh.” The words could be taken as passive aggressive, but his tone doesn’t sound so.

Another glance to Changbin results in eye contact, which he breaks first to scoop his ice cream. “You know, I was surprised to see you at the party.” He nudges your shoulder with his arm and tilts his head to the side. There’s a little smile that’s threatening to form. You can tell by the way the corner of his lips twitch and how his eyes seem to glitter like the faint stars you were supposed to be looking at.

You laugh a little, finally biting a chunk out of your popsicle since you sucked out all the flavor from the end of it. “Wasn’t really my choice.”

“I’m glad you went though. Even if you ended up having to deal with drunk Lix and a dirty shirt.” He nudges you again, but there’s a smile this time.

Your heart kind of maybe flutters a bit. “Yeah. I’m glad too.”

Silence blankets you again, but this time your heart is beating a little bit faster since Changbin is that much closer. In all the years you’ve known him, he was always background noise, but now when he’s the only person you’re with and the only remnant of home, there’s something different when you look at him. It wasn’t just the physical changes from skinny, lanky Changbin to toned arms and fuller cheeks. Nor was it the slit in his eyebrow that made him look almost completely different from the boy you knew since you were in grade school. It was the confident glint in his eyes and the way he carried himself that made him feel untouchable this time.

Maybe it would be an overstatement to say that you may or may not have a little thing for this new changed Changbin, but there’s something definitely there that makes your cheeks warm and your heart palpitate.

“You little shit, you left me last night!”

You are rudely awaken by a pillow to your face as Minho smacks you roughly with it again. “What the–”

“You left me! I was looking all over for you! You didn’t even bother to check your phone!” Minho smacks you one last time for good measure and huffs. Crossing his arms on his chest, he musters up the meanest looking glare he can and watches you rub sleep out of your eyes. When the world is in focus, you find that Minho is still in the clothes from last night, though his hair is a little messy. “When did you get back? Or better, how did you get back?”

“You sound like my mom,” you grumble, pulling your blanket over your face to block him from view. “I told you I didn’t want to come and I had to take care of Felix and I got a ride home around 2 a.m.” “From who?”

Minho’s eyes scan the room and zero in on a hoodie that definitely isn’t yours draped over your chair. “Oh my god. Whose jacket is that?”

Before you can untangle yourself from your blanket and tell Minho to mind his own business, he’s already swiping the hoodie off the chair. He ignores the weird look you give him when he sniffs it and then lets out a bark of laughter. “Seo Changbin?”

“What the fu–” You wonder exactly what frat boys do that lead them into knowing who is who based on their smell, but that might be Minho? You’re not sure, but at this point you’re too flustered – and scared – to ask.

“Changbin drove you home?”

“Yes?”

“He gave you his hoodie?”

“To borrow,” you clarify. Your mind immediately thinks back to his sweet smile after bidding you goodnight.

Minho’s narrowed eyes remind you of what his cats look like when they’re sleepy. “How do you know Changbin? And exactly what did you do last night after leaving a party I took you to with another dude?” he interrogates.

“He’s from home. And we took Felix home and got ice cream. That’s literally it.” You’re going to leave out the part where Changbin gave you a playful wink after leaving you with a promise of meeting up again hanging in the air. You’re also going to neglect to mention how it totally sounded flirty and how he wrote his number on your wrist after telling you to hold onto his jacket for the time being.

“It gives us a reason to meet up again,” he said. And it totally didn’t make you go a little weak at the knees. You’re not in love with Seo Changbin. You’ve known (of) each other for far too long to fall so easily. Nope. Definitely not.

You soon find that Changbin is a fervent emoji user and meme connoisseur. He double (honestly, quadruple texts) like a monster but he never fails to leave a smile on your face. It’s gotten to the point where Minho is seriously doubting that you “just got ice cream” last week but he won’t – can’t – say anything in case you decide to suffocate him in his sleep. It’s irritating to have him peek over your shoulder whenever you walk into the room while on your phone and ask, “what’cha doing?” like the nosy shit he is. And If you answer with anything other than “texting Changbin” he’ll go on a lecture about hiding things from your housemate when you’re supposed to be best friends, and you’ve heard that spiel too many times you’ve basically memorized it by heart. So you reply with, “texting Changbin” and disregard the smug grin and eyebrow quirk on his face.

Life is good. Peaceful for the most part. And a little bit warmer now with a new hoodie and friend.

“I never would have thought this day would come.”

Changbin looks up from his bowl of jjajangmyun and blinks. “Huh?” he says through his full mouth. For anyone else (namely Minho), you would have called it obnoxious and told them off but Changbin looks kind of cute with his cheeks full.

“I didn’t think I would befriend you at all, even though I knew we were going to the same college,” you explain. “You were really different back home.”

Changbin slurps up his noodles and takes a bite of picked radish before going back to scribbling notes into his tablet. “I guess? I didn’t really have the chance to change back home. There’s no one here to stop me from doing what I want.” He finishes off the rest of his radish slice.

“What does that mean?”

“Everyone kind of deemed me the weirdo at home and I was okay with it, I guess. At least there wasn’t bullying or anything. We all had our respective groups and I did better on my own.”

It all sounds so nonchalant, but you can’t help but feel guilty for not even trying to reach out.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Changbin says, like he can read your thoughts. “It’s really nothing. I’m here now and living my life.” He smiles to reassure you. “But if it makes you feel better, you get the title of being my first friend from home.”

The words make your heart to a tumble in your chest. Your ears are tingling, probably turning the same shade of pink your cheeks have taken. “Oh. Cool.”

You rearrange your legs so you’re sitting cross-legged on your chair and resume your work. There is the occasional clinking of your chopsticks against the bowl when you eat, but no words are exchanged as you continue with your studying. It isn’t until you hear the front door open and Minho’s loud voice announcing his entrance that you realize that hours have passed since Changbin came over.

“Y/n, you won’t believe– oh hello Changbin.”

Changbin looks up and gives a little wave. “Hello.”

Minho’s eyes flicker to you, back to Changbin, and then to the mess scattered on the kitchen table. “Studying?”

“Yes,” you answer quickly, recognizing the glint in his eyes. “You can join us, Minho.”

Minh grins, almost evilly, and shakes his head. “That’s okay. Have fun on your little study date.” He leaves after making fake kissy faces at you and ignoring your “it’s not a date.”

Honestly you don’t even know if it is because you migrated here after meeting up somewhere on campus and grabbing boba. And this isn’t the first time either. It’s the fifth, in fact, but it’s not like you’re keeping track of how many times Changbin has planned a rendezvous and bought you food. You’re also not keeping track of how many times you check your phone in hopes that the recent notification is a text from Changbin (at least once every ten minutes). And you’re definitely not keeping track of how many nights you’ve fallen asleep with a smile on your face after texting Changbin (every night since you texted him back the morning you were rudely awakened by your dear housemate).

Changbin watches your roommate leave and only turns back when the coast is clear. “So if this isn’t a date,” he says.

“Huh?”

Changbin tilts his head to the side and sucks in his lower lip between his teeth to bite. His eyebrows furrow in concentration. “Since this isn’t a date, do you want to go on one with me?”

What.

The word apparently gets spoken out loud in that exact, dead tone and Changbin looks amused before he shrugs and goes back to scrolling through his fancy touchscreen device. “Just a question. No is an option.”

Your heart is doing a gymnastics routine that you didn’t know it could ever do just because a boy asked you out on a date. But this isn’t just any boy. This is Seo Changbin! your mind screams. So you flounder like a fish out of water.

“What,” you repeat.

Changbin smiles to himself, ducking his head and resting his chin on a fist on the table.

Changbin’s hooded jacket has made itself at home in your closet, along with his sweater with his fraternity’s name on it and three of his t-shirts because you like oversized t-shirts but have no money of your own to buy them. He indulges you in raiding his closet every once in a while and secretly loves the fact that you wear his clothes around on lazy days and even to class if you’re really feeling lazy. What’s even better is that some of the clothes he wears himself finds a home in a special section of your closet.

It’s quite frightening how fast your lives intertwine and how he has become a constant. The first person you text good morning and the last you text goodnight. The first person to come to mind when you see something new to eat around campus. The first person you call when something funny happens and you need to let someone else hear about it. He’s just the first for anything and everything.

Changbin jokes sometimes about this being part of his lifetime master plan to make you fall for him after learning about the mere exposure effect in his psychology class, but you think it’s more than just history and proximity that pulls you to him.

There are times you wish you knew this Changbin before, because then college wouldn’t have been so terrifying. He is everything you need, even if it’s cheesy as hell to admit. Minho has hinted at (more like shoved down your throat with his unceasing lectures) how Changbin never seems to shut up about you and it’s getting annoying and how “you should get your lovesick boyfriend to stop so I don’t have to see and hear about you every moment of my life.” You pay no mind every time just to spite him.

It just feels surreal sometimes, like when you’re sitting on the passenger’s side in his car and his right hand just tugs your left one from your phone to slot his fingers between yours. Or when you wake up from a nap and find him still seated next to you on the bed while working on his homework. Or even when you brush your teeth together in your tiny bathroom with matching toothbrushes distinguished by the names you’ve stuck onto them after you got your hands on Minho’s label maker.

“Oh my god, you still have that thing?”

Changbin jerks upwards, slamming the cover to his notebook closed and pressing both hands on the cover before he realizes that you’ve finished your shower and currently have a towel over your head. “Oh, yeah. I’ve had it since forever,” he says.

“I know.” You plop down at the edge of his bed and begin to towel your hair dry. “It’s falling apart.”

It doesn’t take long for Changbin to put away this things and scooch over to you. His hands stop your movement, taking the towel from your grip, and begin to gently dry your hair. “Don’t fall asleep on me,” he chuckles when you slowly lean forward after being lulled to sleep with his ministrations.

“Feels nice,” you mumble.

It’s back to being quiet again until Changbin begins to hum lowly, like he’s trying not to make it obvious.

“I’ve never heard of that song before,” you comment as you turn your head just enough to see him out of the corner of your eye.

Changbin looks thoughtful, biting his lower lip before letting it loose. It’s shiny with saliva and just a tad more pink and you kind of want to kiss him.

“I wrote it for you.”

Changbin leaves the towel on your head and disappears from your side before you can even process what he means. He makes a loud noise when you reach to lift it so you sit with obscured vision until he returns to the edge of the bed. From under the towel, you can see his laptop and his finger tap the spacebar. The same song he was humming begins to play, and while it’s kind of rough on the edges (you can tell he recorded with his phone mic) it sounds like a masterpiece.

“What is this?” you ask.

“For you.” Changbin lifts the towel before capturing your lips in a soft kiss.  

#changbin #seo changbin #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #changbin imagine #changbin scenario #stray kids changbin #stray kids

[gulescamisade]

MN, Ground:  Day 21

DIRK: -has been up since the wee hours trying to get a signal on the lake house's tv. not only to keep on top of current events, but also to make sure they can catch the show his dad and uncle are planning on broadcasting. he can't miss that... plus, this gives him something to do with his hands. it's a win-win-

SOLLUX: -He can't sleep. It's not a completely unusual occurrence, but it's definitely unwanted when there's so little for him to occupy his mind with. He's frustrated with his own sleeplessness, and he elects to drift around corners of the lake house, smelling his way around and brushing into edges here and there.-

ARADIA: -she's awake also, sitting at a table in the kitchen and staring out the window, watching the scene outside-

[THERE ARE CAR SOUNDS IN THE DISTANCE]

[BROOM BROOM]

SOLLUX: ...wtf?

ARADIA: -car sounds. Yes. as expected- yes it is tf

SOLLUX: thanks aa.

SOLLUX: that really clears things up f0r me.

JAMISON: =Now they they've been freed of all shenanigans (for now) the Mystery Machine pulls up outside a cozy looking cabin. TOO COZY. This van seems a bit too much anyway what with its mounted high-powered rooftop weaponry and a mysteriously stained pyramid ram located on the front.... listen you gotta be prepared. The van stops, we're here. YOU'VE BEEN FREED=

ARADIA: youre welcome

ARADIA: theyre here

SOLLUX: wh0's "they"????

ROSE: -PEERS OUT A WINDOW-

MEULIN: -smushes against the glass up above her-

ARADIA: youll see

ARADIA: hear or smell rather

SOLLUX: i d0n't think i want t0.

ROSE: -SHE JUST SORTA OPENS THE DOOR AND FLOPS OUT.- So. This is the place, yes.

MEULIN: I GUESS SO. -steps out and adjusts her sunglasses in a thoughtful, nerdy sort of way.-

MEULIN: IS EFURRYONE INSIDE?

ROSE: At least several people are inside.

ROSE: I think.

MEULIN: AND IT'S TOTALLY NOT AN AMBUSH.

ROSE: We've been driving for days. I'll take an ambush over a perpetually sore ass.

MEULIN: YOU COULD ASK THEM FOR A BUTT RUB. (｡･ω･｡)

ARADIA: then cover your ears and nose

ROSE: Tempting.

MEULIN: FRIENDS GIVE FRIENDS BUTT RUBS. -sneaks toward the door-

SOLLUX: -flops in a kitchen chair next to Aradia and buries face in her hair. Done.-

ARADIA: there we go

ARADIA: perfect

SOLLUX: mph.

ARADIA: ignorance is bliss

ARADIA: and composed of my hair

SOLLUX: yeph.

MEULIN: -taps on the door and then sneaks to peer into the window-

ROSE: -UNLOADING some crap from the van. Like a bag messily stuffed with laundry.-

MEULIN: HEY, IT'S ARADIA!

ARADIA: -sees meulin at the window and waves excitedly for her to come in-

MEULIN: SHE SAYS TO COME IN.

ROSE: I imagine she would. Do you see anyone else?

MEULIN: YEAH. SOMEONE IN HER HAIR.

ROSE: Okay, good. That means it is legitimate.

ROSE: -BURSTS IN.- I need a washing machine and a shower. Not necessarily in that order.

MEULIN: -slinks behind her- HI! ME TOO.

SOLLUX: f0inh the klaa.

ROSE: Aradia, you appear to have something entangled.

ARADIA: -smiles widely at them- hi guys! im glad you made it

ARADIA: -glances solluxward- yes it appears to be a pretty bad knot

SOLLUX: -flips them all off-

ROSE: It's good to see you're safe, too.

MEULIN: COOL.

SOLLUX: hhhf.

DIRK: -walks in on all this and stares at everyone with wide eyes. loses his cool for a second, but whatever he already looked worse for wear. he's just he's so relieved to see them.-

DIRK: Rose.

DIRK: Hey.

ROSE: -APPROACHES... and drops the bag of laundry on the ground.-

ROSE: You look pretty good, for looking like hell. Have you been shaving?

MEULIN: (｡◕ω◕｡)

MEULIN: BETTER NOT HAVE. I WANNA TOUCH THE WHISKERS.

DIRK: Do I really look that ragged? -runs a palm over his scruff. he hasn't been.-

ROSE: Could I possibly not look that ragged?

ROSE: Did you hear about what happened?

ROSE: I am somewhat hoping that you did.

MEULIN: -pads over and touches Dirk's whiskers with her beans while they converse. TUCH.-

MEULIN: -also nuzzles his shoulder. HELLO.-

ARADIA: it was pretty incredible

DIRK: -wow, affection. he almost forgot what that feels like. whoops. he gives meulin's hair a pet and cracks a small smile at both her and rose's combined presence. they're wonderful.-

DIRK: I wish I could've been there.

ROSE: At this risk of sounding inappropriate at a time like this, I am, in fact, quite glad that you weren't.

ROSE: I don't think there is anyone I'd wish that place upon.

ROSE: Not that it matters now, I suppose.

MEULIN: IT WAS PRETTY GROSS ON A WHOLE.

MEULIN: AND ON A CASE BY CASE BASIS.

MEULIN: ROSE WAS A TOTAL BADASS THOUGH.

DIRK: Yeah. You're right. I'm sure there will be more opportunities to witness Rose showing off how fuckin' rad she is.

ROSE: -SIGHS and leans into the pile-

ROSE: You are going to make me blush.

ROSE: Everyone here's okay?

DIRK: -nods- Yeah.

DIRK: We're... We're good. -pets meulin's hair some more. thank goodness for therapy cats.-

DIRK: We lucked out finding a nice place to lay low. You guys can take care of your showers and shit. Just don't expect hot water for long.

DIRK: Oh yeah, I got the TV to work this morning too. That's a thing.

MEULIN: -prrrr rumbles, then perks ears.- TV? WHAT'S IT SAY?

DIRK: Still a lot of buzz about what y'all did. And my uncle's twitter war.

DIRK: You know the Virginia folks are gonna broadcast some kind of concert as a big fuck you to the presidents? Now that I definitely wish I was there for.

ROSE: ...

ROSE: Is it going to be broadcast?

ROSE: I kind of like the idea of that.

DIRK: It is.

DIRK: Wonder if I can scrounge up some popcorn for the event.

ROSE: We do have chips from a truckstop.

DIRK: Oh shit. Then we're all set.

MEULIN: AWWW MAN... I LOVE CONCERTS...

ROSE: -CASUALLY, AND GRACELESSLY, flops onto the nearest couch-like surface.-

DIRK: -there she goes... he's going to wander over to the kitchen though. hovering a little around sollux and aradia. subtly.-

DIRK: -addresses the new arrivals, though- Can I get you anything? We have... soup.

DIRK: Which incidentally is about the extent of what I can cook.

ROSE: I'm not sure. I may be done with eating, possibly forever.

ROSE: The concept has become fallow, truly.

MEULIN: I'M HUNGRY!!

MEULIN: -not even zombies can faze her-

ROSE: Can I consume soup intravenously?

DIRK: If only I had the means to test it. DIRK: Hey, Aradia. You've got first aid on you, right? Inject some soup into Rose.

DIRK: -rattles pots and pans for meulin. again, it's something to do. at least he can feel useful.-

ARADIA: mhmm

ARADIA: i could if you really want to

ARADIA: i recommend tasting

ROSE: -GROANING NOISE-

MEULIN: ~(=^. .^) -HOVERS-

MEULIN: PLEASE DON'T INJECT ROSE WITH SOUP.

DIRK: But she's suffering.

DIRK: -pours bowls for everybody once it's done. it's tomato... hands meu a bowl, then slides a couple at sollux and aradia before shuffling over to rose. eat...-

ROSE: -....ok so tomato soup she can probably do no matter how much it may resemble the blood of guy fieri.-

ROSE: -She tries to make it hover-- but urgh.-

ROSE: -nevermind.-

ROSE: -she just puts it on her stomach and eats it from there.-

MEULIN: - 👀tomato soup-

SOLLUX: -very slowly extracts himself from the hair prison-

ARADIA: dont get stuck

ARADIA: thanks dirk

DIRK: Think nothing of it. -goes to join them at the table to eat, but he's just kinda poking at the soup.-

SOLLUX: -grunts and just sort of touches his spoon.-

MEULIN: -SLRRRPS in the bg-

MEULIN: I STILL HAVE SOME MOOSE MEAT IF ANYONE WANTS.

DIRK: Huh.

DIRK: Maybe later.

ROSE: They killed a moose, by the way.

ROSE: -slurps...-

ROSE: Do we have a plan of attack, yet?

DIRK: ... Not quite.

DIRK: Haven't really... been able to focus.

[[ There's a soft glow of green that grows stronger suddenly, and there's a humanoid shape that hovers into the kitchen through the wall. There's some slime left behind. Oops. ]]

JADESPRITE: hi

ARADIA: -turns to smile at jade sprite- hi

JADESPRITE: -holds up a paw- i didnt want to interrupt especially since i cant eat or

JADESPRITE: contribute much else but

JADESPRITE: we did have some ideas

ROSE: -Blinks-

ROSE: -SHE CAN'T BELIEVE SHE FORGOT ABOUT JADESPRITE-

ROSE: Oh.

ROSE: Hello.

DIRK: -blinks in jadesprite's direction also.- ... Yeah?

JADESPRITE: yes

JADESPRITE: but i think maybe first we should talk about what's going on

ROSE: Right.

JADESPRITE: davesprite has been watching jade

JADESPRITE: something like this has happened before, in the universe we're from -laces her paw fingers together-

JADESPRITE: so we know what she's capable of

JADESPRITE: though you probably already figured out she was the one that zapped you around the country

JADESPRITE: she has full control of that power now

ROSE: Right. So we can't do anything to her head on, or with her awareness. ROSE: We'll just be in the same position we were before.

JADESPRITE: essentially yes

JADESPRITE: so someone has to deal with her

JADESPRITE: thats why were volunteering ourselves

JADESPRITE: -carefully, she pulls out some sort of pendant with a Skaianet symbol and dangles it in the air- i managed to recreate a device that davesprite has for myself

JADESPRITE: id like to give it to one of you for safekeeping, in case i need it

JADESPRITE: i can go into it and also be summoned to its location

JADESPRITE: jade has the one of davesprite's

DIRK: ... I can take it. -holds out his hand-

JADESPRITE: -smiles a little and offers it over to him- thanks

JADESPRITE: anything she tries to do to us would be significantly less dangerous than to any of you, and we should be able to come back quickly with these

JADESPRITE: besides... someone also has to handle jane

JADESPRITE: she doesnt have the same powers but... she is dangerous

ROSE: I... right. I suppose we're going to have to incapacitate them.

JADESPRITE: somehow, yes

JADESPRITE: but we can buy as much time as possible

JADESPRITE: but if it came down to it...

JADESPRITE: ...well, im sure well figure out something

ROSE: Right.

ROSE: I could probably buy time with Jane, at least.

ROSE: But I can't imagine deprogramming them will be... easy.

DIRK: -quietly puts the pendant on to keep it close, tucking it under his shirt, but he's zoning in and out of this conversation and it's frustrating him a little because he NEEDS to be a part of this.-

JADESPRITE: right

JADESPRITE: the brainwashing is affecting jades filters and inhibitions at the same time its telling her whos in control

JADESPRITE: all her repressed thoughts are loose

JADESPRITE: so it's not just the obedience thats the problem... -shakes her head- im sure jane is feeling something similar

JADESPRITE: um... anyway

JADESPRITE: hal has the ship just outside the atmosphere

JADESPRITE: weve managed to talk to him safely from space

JADESPRITE: horuss is still cloaking the ship too but im not sure what theyre planning to do

JADESPRITE: hal is being sort of cagey about it

ROSE: -She frowns.-

ROSE: Is this something that... happened to you?

JADESPRITE: ...

JADESPRITE: i think so

JADESPRITE: its not all clear but...

JADESPRITE: between my memories and davesprite's i feel sure that it's something i know well

ROSE: Do you have any foggy memories of getting out?

JADESPRITE: no...

JADESPRITE: it just feels like i went to sleep for a long time

ROSE: Ah.

ROSE: -She nods.-

ROSE: Well. That's an option.

ROSE: Knock her out somehow.

DIRK: I wonder if the Serkets would have any effect on them. -manages to chime in-

DIRK: I don't like suggesting that, but it might be one of our safest options. I'd rather not knock them out forcefully.

ROSE: Well, we can't waste our opportunity.

ARADIA: trust your instincts and dont doubt yourself

JADESPRITE: -hovers thoughtfully- ...

JADESPRITE: it could work

JADESPRITE: we will just have to be careful

JADESPRITE: if jade knows whats coming she could zap them away

ROSE: ...

ROSE: -sorta. Takes in a deep breath through her teeth.-

ROSE: Okay.

MEULIN: -she's already finished her soup, and now she's just sort of contemplating the bowl... everyone's working so hard-

#technetronicTactician #twofoldacrimony #artifactualAnnihilation #gardylooTheroid #tenebrousThorns #ardentcupid #frangibleairedale

[bumblebeeishappy-blog]

Beauteous Precipitation - Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Chapter One: Mondays Can Go Fuck Themselves

I have no idea how to use this site help me

It’s funny because I’m writing this on a Friday. Contradiction! It’s not actually funny. I’m just really lonely. Help.

I’m so fucking pissed because I can’t find Pietro’s age anywhere and god dammit I low key need it so I can freaking write.

If you know it, please spill, because I’m flying blind and blind birds usually end up crashing into a window, having a seizure then consequently shitting themselves.

Uh… yeah.

So I’m gonna go on a limb and say fuck it, he’s gonna be twenty-three. Deal with it. Or y'know, don’t. I honestly do not care whether you agree or not.

I promise I’m not always this rude.

Okay that’s a lie I’m constantly a bitch. I’m also pretty sure my vocabulary is literally just swears. Oops?

Anyway, let’s get this shitshow on the road!

Pidge, a Bengal cat with a knack of being a complete asshole with unlimited energy. Is relevant to the plot. Always relevant to the plot.

Pidge is the main character concerning the plot.

All hail Pidge.

💨

Mondays fucking suck.

That’s obvious and an understatement. Duh.

I know that they suck because for one, they’re the first day of the God-forbidden week. Secondly, every Monday without fail, something bad just coincidentally manages to plague my life. They range from ‘not so bad, but bad enough to annoy me’ to 'holy shit I almost died.’

Broken arms, broken hearts. Broken vases? You get the gist. It’s a whirlwind. A lottery. I’m waiting for the day when something good finally happened to me for once. In vain.

I honestly sometimes consider that I have a problem, a curse. I should be locked away. Countless times people have gotten hurt because of my bad luck. It’s a danger hazard.

And I know what you’re going to say. There’s no such a thing as luck, you crazy bastard. I used to think that too, honest, but it’s there and it’s happening. There’s no other excuse. And there’s fucking Norse gods in New York. Alien invaders, too. A little dash of bad luck doesn’t seem like such a stretch of reality, really.

It’s as if the universe had this vendetta against me. What the hell did I do to get its panties in a twist?

But this particular Monday had me in it’s mind’s eye as its number one victim. Hurray.

Why do you ask?

Because, for one thing, I failed my final exam in astronomy sciences, my major. Some little prick decided to copy my work and because of goddamn plagiarism, neither of us could pass. That meant i’d have to retake the last few weeks of education. Pay to retake the last few weeks of education if I ever wanted a proper job.

I’m broke.

Another thing; It was completely bucketing down with rain. In July. July.

I had no means of sheltered transport (or money. I lost that at the park when a goose decided that I was it’s next lunch. What gives?), hence I had to walk from Upper Manhatten to Central Manhatten, and though that doesn’t seem like too tedious a walk, it still took me over an hour. In the rain. Just to add, I forgot my rain jacket at home.

I kind of low-key wanted to stab a bitch.

No. Scratch that.

I really wanted to stab a bitch.

But not bitch as in a dog. Let’s face it, dogs are way better than people.

I resisted the urge to completely trash up my apartment as soon as I entered, shivering and muttering curses, through the door. Instead, I decided to vent out my totally appropriate and not-at-all petty anger into furiously eating some dinner because food is the answer to life’s equation.

Probably.

With a nonchalant toss, the sopping bag I used for college landed upside down on the couch that was definitely the home to a nice family of mice. The pillows squeaked suspiciously as the backpack fell against them.

Ignoring the free-loaders, I passed the ill looking sofa in hunt of self-pity food. Ice cream and pizza sounded absolutely perfect for munching my despondency away. For the time being.

But first, I needed to take a shower so I’d lessen the chance of getting an illness. Wouldn’t that just be the screw you icing on the fuck you flavoured cake? It was a present from the deities that lounged above the dense, depressing clouds that forever hung over NYC. They laughed at my suffering as a way too pass the time.

Thanks. Feeling the love.

Assholes.

The only thing greeting me was my middle aged bengal cat, Pidge. His brown rosetted fur stroked against my damp jeans as he stared up at me with an unamused expression.

I sighed, kicking a tinsel ball with my toe. Pidge was quick to leap onto it and continue attacking. He acted like more of a dog than a cat. It proved to be a problem in most cases. He had an unlimited amount of energy and was always on the run. Also always was an asshole, despite my efforts of keeping him occupied. He never fucking sleeps!

I switched on the lights as I went through the comically small apartment, wincing at the fact that half of my lights were busted. Fuck. Pidge darted between my legs, threatening to trip me over.

“Pidge, you shitswizzler,” I muttered as I regained my balance, glaring daggers at the bengal who blinked back at me, feigning innocence.

I continued on anyway, pulling the cheap, tacky curtains across the single-glazed windows in a half-assed attempt to get my box of an apartment building at least at a liveable temperature.

Making my way through the drab and sad apartment, it took me only a few steps to get from one side to the other where the musty and laughably small bathroom was located. My eyes glanced at the mirror for a second before flicking away. I didn’t need to see how terrible the flash rain storm had made me just yet. Pidge meowed emphatically at the closed door. I ignored him.

I peeled off the water-dense, skin-hugging material that stuck to my body like a catsuit. Hoodie, tank top, jeans. They hit the bathroom tiles with a 'splat,’ and I was left in my soaking underwear in front of the sink, finally staring at the mirror to see how crazy I would of looked coming home.

I usually like walking to and from school in the summer months (but not when it’s fucking pouring cats and dogs). It’s not exactly tranquil, and the streets are literally always clogged up with people in suits and beggars on the sidewalk. There’s just a sense of achievement that I saved money and got that little bit fitter at the same time.

I snorted to myself. Yeah, and that little scrape of fitness is about to go down the drain when I splurge on sugary treats.

But did I give a damn?

Pfft, no.

I scrunched my nose at my waterlogged reflection. My hair stuck to my scalp and the remainder of my cheap and poorly applied make-up was everywhere but the correct place. I looked like a cat fucked a raccoon and their hideous hybrid offspring was doused in a pool filled with regrets and all the fucks I didn’t give at that particular moment.

Eh.

I rid my body of the drenched underwear, chucking the garments onto the pile while stepping into the relaxing warm spray of the shower. My muscles spasmed harshly at odd intervals from the dramatic change in temperature, so I was forced to stay in the shower for longer than I usually did.

Not that I’m complaining.

I took the chance of an extended shower by finally scrubbing down fully and extra-throughly washing my hair. After a short while, feeling spick and span, I grasped the metal handle and pushed it towards the wall, cutting off the pleasing flow.

By then, my stomach was grumbling in earnest, but I still took my time to wring my hair and wrap an extra towel around the crown of my head.

I finally obeyed my stomach’s orders with a groan, encasing myself in a fluffy dressing gown and padding to the kitchen, grabbing the phone as I pulled open the freezer and snagged the ice cream carton without a second thought or a guilty conscious. Fuck em. I can do whatever I want.

Using my nearly none-existent fingernails, I pried the plastic lid off, releasing the sweetened dairy product from its grasp, oozing sugar and promising that I’d be regretting the binge in the morning.

But hey, it’s not morning now is it?

Turning away and kicking the freezer closed with a heel, I placed the opened container and lid on the kitchen bench, fishing out a spoon while punching in the numbers for the local pizza shop that I had conveniently memorised to heart from all the times I’ve ordered from them. I’m a regular. They know me by name. That’s not a surprise.

Pidge leapt onto the counter, sticking out his tongue to collect the water droplets that formed on the tap. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Heya Chip,” I spoke into the mouth piece while shoving a spoonful of ice cream beyond my lips. It made me shiver but damn, it tasted good.

I knew it was Chip who was on phone duty. Throughout my excessive pizza ordering (that more often than not were on Mondays), I’ve come to remember each shift the workers had. It was a small business.

Mondays on odd weeks of the year and during the term were Chip’s shifts. I was hoping to hear their masculine/feminine voice through the speaker so I wouldn’t feel stupid. I expected at least a 'So-and-so from The Pizza Pond here, how may I help you?’ but I didn’t even get that.

“Excuse me, miss,” the cool, orderly female voice that sounded almost like a robot emerged from my phone. “But this is a private line. Please remain where you are so I can detect your position and send any additional information about your persons to Mr. Stark.”

Mr. Stark?

Utterly confused, I pulled the phone from the side of my head. Studying the number, I realised that I was missing a whole unit- wait, Mr. Stark?

As in the Mr. Stark?

As in Iron Man?

As in the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist?

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

The spoon of ice cream that was dangling from the corner of my lips tumbled to the bench, splattering the sugary treat everywhere within a ten centimetre radius.

I squeaked out a “sorry, wrong number!” and quickly ended the call, throwing the device at the wall, which cracked.

Both of them cracked.

“Shit,” I mumbled, glaring at the phone as if it was about to sprout legs and attack me with a tiny gun and matching minuscule rounds. It didn’t do such a thing, but instead the screen lit up with the message 'DATA TRANSFERRING’ and a tiny chibi Iron Man helmet.

“Oh, shit,” I repeated my curse, this time with much time emphasis as the screen started to glitch out and then spontaneously die.

A tense minute passed while I stood, just staring at the cracked phone. Maybe it was just a joke?

But then fucking Spider-Man crashed through my window, showering me with shards of glass.

“Uh, hey,” he greeted, seemingly quite out of his comfort zone and a little socially awkward as he stood in front of the window without a window pane, the curtains billowing out behind him. “You’re Y/n L/n, right? Please tell me I’m right, 'cause if not then this is like, super awkward.”

I didn’t know what to do or say. I was frozen, in shock. Rather than blurt out my name and reassure the obviously young hero of his anxieties, I remained silent as I stared at the kid.

“Hey, uh,” the boy spoke, stepping towards me slowly with his hands raised as if to reassure me. “This would be a lot less troublesome if you willingly came with me. Sir Stark the Almighty just wants to talk with you.”

Wait.

What the fuck?

“Sir Stark the Alimighty?” I echoed, narrowing my eyes in disbelief and flippancy.

Spider-Man winced at that, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah, yeah… can you forget I said that?”

“Will you leave me alone?” I countered adamantly. “And did you have to crash through my window? There are such things as doors, you dork.”

I was tempted to call him something much stronger than dork, but he only sounded like he was in his mid-teens and he was just doing his job.

“… no,” Spider-Man answered the first question hesitantly. “Uh, sorry. Dramatic entrances and stuff. I’ll remember doors for next time.”

I rolled my eyes, scooping a previously spooked Pidge from the ground before he stepped on a shard of glass and had a right fit.

“So…” Spider-Man trailed off, glancing around my dingy apartment, shifting his feet and wincing at the sound of glass crunching beneath them. “Are you gonna come with me..?”

I pretended to ponder thought, grasping Pidge a little tighter, ignoring as he dug his claws into my shoulder and struggled in my arms.

“Um, no,” I deadpanned.

The superboy in front of me sighed. He hung his head in defeat, before lifting it up and, before I knew it, I was encased in a cocoon of web.

“Hey!” I cried indignantly, struggling in my bonds. Pidge was pinned to my chest and was letting out confused, ear-splitting yowls. “This is against my human rights! Plus, animal abuse!”

“If you want, we can leave the cat here,” he offered innocently, as if he didn’t just pin me defenceless against my will.

I glared at him, considering my options. Glancing down at the glass, I knew my answer.

“The cat comes.”

Pidge isn’t stupid, but he is too curious for his own good. If you left him alone, he’d no doubt step on the glass, freak out and then have a fit because he’s alone, injured and an idiot.

Spider-Man shrugged. “If you say so.” And promptly scooped me into his arms, cat, web cocoon and all, and leapt from the window, shifting me on one arm so he could manoeuvre his way through the streets of Manhatten.

I shrieked, and instinctively went to wrap my arms around across his chest and shoulders, but realised I couldn’t because he fucking constricted me.

Pidge was a mess. He fidgeted feverishly. The claws that were dug into my flesh extended even more so, but I could barely feel the pain.

The swinging sensations made my head twirl. My stomach began to churn and- oh god I’m going to puke.

I clenched my mouth shut and tried to calm my stomach, but Spider-Man was really totally not helping at all. I hit my head on his shoulder to get his attention. Another wave of nausea almost sent me over the edge.

The teen quickly glanced down, and once lying his eyes on my pale-greenish face, gasped and started swinging faster.

“Please don’t puke on me,” he begged while shooting webs. “This suit was from Mr. Stark.”

“Do you really think puking is my intention?” I spat back, before regretting opening my mouth and twisting my head away from superboy.

“Okay, we’re here,” he said and gently dropped me to the ground before slicing the back of the web cocoon open.

I wheezed, rolling out of the encasment, bring Pidge with me because he’s my only soul support. He yowled in response.

I ignored him and got to my feet, leaning against the side of a building as I got my bearings back. Once my stomach was calm enough and the ringing had slightly dulled, I turned my head upwards in awe to see the tall, modern building that looked liked it cost much more than a pretty penny to make.

“I know,” Spider-Man said excitedly as he saw my gaping mouth and wide eyes. “I was like that too. Welcome to the Avenger’s Tower.”

#pietro Maximoff #pietro x reader #quicksilver #avengers #age of ultron #wanda maximoff #vision #tony stark #thor #Spider-Man #spiderman #hawkeye #black widow #natasha romanoff #clint barton #iron man #Jarvis #ultron #Friday #Pidge the bengal cat #fluff #mentor #training #trainee #x reader #marvel #marvel cinematic universe