#she calls a stranger ugly and then that guy punches her brother so hard he turns into a ping pong ball. sad.

[everyyoomia]

14

#yoo mia #every yoo mia #orv #ch65 #i wonder if her first time seeing her brother after the apocalypse starts #she calls a stranger ugly and then that guy punches her brother so hard he turns into a ping pong ball. sad. #and then later she finds out the two of them are companions. wild #i believe this is the last we see of her for a while (feel free to correct cause i will just be skipping to the demon castle) #so time to wave goodbye o/

[y0itsbri]

gallavich week 2021 - day 7 - meet ugly

thank you to @ianandmickeygallavich for the inspo // @gallavichthings

Prompt: Ian and Mickey are neighbors in an apartment complex. They haven’t ever interacted, but one day they get stuck the elevator. One of them doesn’t like confined spaces but doesn’t share this so the other one assumes he is freaking out for no reason.

Words: 3.5k

--

"I'm going out tonight, dickbreath!" Mandy announced, popping her head out of the bathroom. She was wearing a short sequined dress, fitted tightly to her body and only halfway zipped up so it slipped part way down her shoulders.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't!" Mickey called from his recliner in the living room with an Old Style in hand. Work has been absolutely kicking his ass this week and he wanted nothing more than a chill night in.

"Oh, c'mon, now that's no fun. You don't do anything," she accused.

"That's not true!" Mickey grumbled, remote in hand and flicking past some news channels onto some good shit -- finally. Rerun of Jurassic Park.

"What're your plans for the evening then, hot shot?" Mandy teased as she applied yet another layer of mascara on her already blackened eyelashes, "Dinosaur movies all night?"

"Might go to the corner store for some smokes."

"Please get something to eat while you're at it. We have like nothing in here." She waltzed to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door and grimaced. He could admit that a grocery run was, in fact, long overdue.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Serious, Mick." Mandy gave him the look. The Look being the same Look that his mother used to give him when he was being a little shit.

Fine. "Got it. I'll eat something." She smiled at that.

"Thank youuu," Mandy dragged the word out as she leaned over to kiss his forehead.

"Gross."

"Ditto. Zip me up?"

--

Mandy had headed out awhile ago -- long enough ago that Mickey was now halfway through his second 'dinosaur movie.' He should really visit his dinosaur guy again soon, he's probably got some cool new shit. Mickey sighed and got up, idling over to the kitchen.

He downed a full glass of water and opened the fridge. Yeah, unless he wanted to eat a pickle with ketchup and beer, he needed to go out. He debated ordering in, but he needed to go to the corner store anyways. Two birds one stone kind of situation.

Mickey threw on his favorite pair of sweatpants and his Davie Bowie tee shirt with the sleeves cut off. It was a good shirt. Mickey thought Bowie was hot -- fuckin' alien-looking, but hot, nonetheless.

Mickey shoved his wallet and phone in his pockets and locked up his apartment. Maybe Ernie would have the good roast beef sandwiches today.

His thoughts about dinner plans subsided as he noticed the guy waiting for the elevator.

Mickey had seen the ginger around. He was hard to miss -- fuckin' tall, always going out for runs early in the morning in short shorts and coming back all sweaty, always had a million fucking people coming and going from his apartment. They lived on opposite ends of the hall, but Mickey had never actually spoken to him before.

Mandy had given her brother lots of shit for acting so goddamn unapproachable and that's why he has no friends. Mickey didn't want to be friends with everyone, but he wouldn't mind spending some time with the hot red-head down the hall... eventually.

But he was waiting for the elevator with him right now. He couldn't bring himself to make eye contact in fear that it would lead to small talk which would then lead Mickey to inevitably embarrass himself. He couldn't blow his shot. Mandy did the small talk, not him. He took out his phone and scrolled through Instagram even though none of the photos were loading.

He hardly looked up when the elevator arrived and he stepped into it, leaving plenty of space between the two of them. Maybe it was an unreasonable amount of space, but it still wasn't enough for Mickey. He could still smell the guy's cologne. And it was infuriatingly attractive.

"Ground floor?" The man's voice practically sent heat down Mickey's spine. This was going to be a long ride.

"Uh, yeah." Nice, Mick. Not embarrassing at all.

"Great." It hung in the air, a tinge of awkwardness to it.

Out of the corner of his eye Mickey could see the the man leaning against the elevator wall, crossing his ankles as he not-so-subtly stared Mickey's direction.

Mickey was running out of things to check on the his phone and he was about to give in and finally make eye contact when he felt a shift. Then an ungodly clanging of metal. And a stop.

Fuck.

He glanced up at the dial. Sure enough they were stopped between floors, and not at all near the ground.

"The fuck?"

"What?" The red-head locked confused eyes with Mickey's.

"We're stopped. Why the fuck are we stopped?"

"Hm," The guy poked around at the open doors button and nothing happened. "I don't know."

All hopes of positive small talk was out the window as Mickey went into full panic mode. He did not like small, confined spaces -- which happened to be exactly what his current predicament entailed.

"You open the doors!" Mickey practically shrieked.

"Why me!?" The attractive guy spit back.

"You work out and shit -- do I look like I could pry those fuckers apart?"

"Well..." The red-head took a moment to size up Mickey's smaller form. "Yes, you do actually- but these doors are heavy as fuck. We don't have like super strength."

"Fuck you."

"Uh, fuck me!?"

"Yeah, fuck you. Not even tryin' and now we're both going to fuckin' die in here. Any last words, Red?"

He rolled his eyes. "We're not going to die. Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?"

"Don't you think you're being a little too calm considering we're stuck?"

"Oh. You're freaking out."

"No shit I'm freaking out, Sherlock." Mickey ran his hands down his face. This was not fucking happening to him right now.

"Hey, take deep breaths."

"Can't. Gonna die." Mickey gasped.

"Well, if you can't breathe, you're definitely going to pass out."

Mickey shot him panicked eyes.

"Hey, hey it's okay. Just look at me."

Mickey could do that.

"Copy me. In-" He inhaled, chest expanding.

"Out-" Mickey felt his breath on his face. In any circumstance, a stranger breathing on him would warrant a punch in the gut, but now it was more grounding than anything else. They repeated that motion a few times.

"Good. See, you can breath."

"What are you? A fuckin' doctor?" Mickey huffed a laugh in disbelief.

"Been to enough," he chuckled.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. But, uh- look, see, I'll hit the emergency button and someone will come get us soon. It'll be okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm positive. Got stuck in one of these with my sister when I was little, kinda scary at first but we were out in practically no time. She sang to me to pass the time, but I take it you don't want me to sing to you?"

That earned a full-bellied laugh from Mickey, "Not yet."

The man grinned goofily like a golden retriever.

They were silent for a moment.

"So, uh, what's your name?" The red-head asked, gazing curiously at Mickey.

Mickey just stared back at him.

"Your name?" He repeated gently.

"Mickey."

"Mickey," He said it so soft like a prayer. "I like it. I'm Ian."

He had no idea what he expected, but it wasn't Ian. Ian was fitting, though. Ian was good.

--

Ian had hit the emergency button a few times for good measure while Mickey had tried to call Mandy to no success. They settled onto the floor, leaning against opposite walls, feet nearly colliding in the center. Neither made a move to completely avoid that.

After Mickey had calmed down a bit, they fell into bouts of comfortable conversation and comfortable silence.

"I thought you just hated me." Ian mumbled after a bit.

"What I hate is being trapped here." Mickey stared at the walls threatening to enclose around them. He closed his eyes so he didn't start to panic again.

"Even before this."

"Oh?" That was news to Mickey. That was never his intent.

"Yeah, I always see you around, but you never seem to see me." Ian looked to the ground when he said it.

"I've seen ya plenty. You're the dork with the short ass shorts."

Ian smirked, "I guess I am."

"Hard to miss, man."

"You too. I've wanted to say hi for like months, but you always looked like you were ready to snap me in half or something. I kinda like my limbs in tact."

Mickey swiped his thumb against his nose and sniffed, embarrassed, "Sister says I scare everyone away. Used to be a good thing."

"Sister... wait, wait, wait, hold up. You're Mandy's brother, aren't you?"

"You know Mandy? Oh god, you're not banging her, are you?" That would throw a wrench in his plans.

"Oh god, no!" Ian threw his hands up in a mock surrender like that was the most repulsive thing he's ever heard.

"Something wrong with my sister?" Mickey grew defensive. She may be a lot to handle at times, but she was still his sister.

"No, no, she's great! 'm just not into... well, uh- I'm- let's just say that if you had a brother, maybe I'd be banging him." He grimaced.

Watching Ian stumble over his words after being so confident about everything else was a bit amusing.

"Oh -- cool." Mickey wasn't used to such obvious disclosures about sexuality with strangers.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Mickey avoided all eye contact.

"So?"

Ian paused until Mickey was able to look at him again.

"So, what?"

"Do you have any brothers?" A playful flicker in Ian's eyes made it obvious that he was just being a little shit now.

"You're an idiot."

"Maybe so, but that doesn't answer my question still."

"Yeah, I have brothers, but they'd uh- let's just say definitely not be into that."

"And you're... not not into that?"

Mickey rolled his eyes. His lack of denial was basically a confession and they both knew it.

Ian smirked and knocked the toes of their shoes together.

--

Help announced itself to be coming soon over the tiny intercom embedded in the elevator. Sometime shortly after that, Ian had made his way over to the wall next to Mickey's, rather than across.

"Where were you going tonight?" Ian asked, turning to fully face Mickey.

"Nowhere." Nowhere interesting at least.

"Really? So you just take an elevator down to nowhere?"

"Alright, smart ass, I needed to get dinner. Gonna be a late dinner now that's for sure, fuckin' starving."

"Shit."

"What about you? Got a hot date or something?" Mickey eyed him up and down. Ian's outfit wasn't fancy by any means, but he still looked damn good in it.

"Oh, I wish," he winked, "Just going on a walk to clear my head. But this is working just as well."

"Good for you, man. My head is fuller than ever."

"What're you thinking about?" Ian's heavy breath practically bounced off his face. His gaze flickered to Ian's pouting lips. This was ridiculous.

Kissing you. Kissing you. Kissing you. "Nothing."

"Riiiight." Ian's eyes mimicked the same trail that Mickey's had just followed.

"Yup."

Ian scooted closer to Mickey and he swore his heart was beating so loud that even Ian could hear it. If he could, he made no indication. Instead, he eyed Mickey's hand resting on the floor. Gently, careful not to spook him, he caressed Mickey's fingers, nearing his tattooed knuckles.

Mickey fought the urge to yank his hand away. No one ever touched him so delicately, so sweetly. He figured that Ian would have guessed that, seeing his crude tattoos, but he wasn't acting like this was strange. So Mickey let him.

"Fuckin' hate them." Mickey murmured, watching Ian's fingertips tracing over the back of his hand.

Ian frowned.

"The tattoos."

"They're you. I'm sure they have a story."

"Wish I could forget it."

"If it makes you feel any better, I have a pair of tits on my shoulder."

"Ex-fucking-cuse me?!" Mickey pictured literal tits growing out of the man's back.

"Here, look," Ian turned, pulling his shirt up, revealing an insanely toned and insanely freckled back. Surely he was not about to be flashed in an elevator. But sure enough, tattooed on his shoulder was a pair of double-D's.

"Shit! Dude, what the fuck is up with that?" Mickey laughed.

Yeah, this made him feel better. At least he didn't have fucking titties tattooed on his knuckles, though he was sure someone in his family must have something like that. They're fucking idiots like that. Like Ian, apparently. But Ian was good.

"It was supposed to be my mom." Ian winced, pulling his shirt back down to cover it again.

"Mom must've been a banger." Mickey joked, still hardly containing his laughter.

"Ugh," Ian groaned dramatically. "Never gonna live that one down."

He threw his hands back on the ground, near Mickey's but not touching this time.

Experimentally and slowly, so slowly, Mickey hooked his fingers with Ian's and rubbed his thumb against Ian's hand. It was calloused, but so soft. It was a movement so gentle he hardly recognized himself, completely contradictory to the message literally written across his hands.

He was practically holding hands with a man in an elevator. Oh, if dear dad could see him now.

Moving out of his hell house with Mandy had been a good step, but it had taken Mickey years to unlearn his self-hate, allow himself to be. He still wasn't perfect, and he still felt years behind. But with Ian, it felt normal. It felt right and warm.

Right then, he felt the elevator shift again. He tightened his grip on Ian's hand. Ian returned the hold. If he was going to die, at least he wasn't going to die alone.

Mickey realized that they weren't falling down, but rather moving upwards.

They released their hands and leapt up to their feet as the door dinged open, revealing a small staff of maintenance personnel, not looking at all concerned that two men had just been trapped inside for an unspecified amount of time.

"Fuckin' finally!" Mickey ran out. He resisted the urge to drop to the floor and kiss the ground. He was dramatic, but he wasn't that dramatic.

Ian thanked the maintenance people then hurried along beside Mickey. They weren't on their floor, but they sure as hell weren't about to take the elevator again after all that.

"Hey, Mickey, wanna come back to my place? I think I still have some leftover lasagna if you're still hungry."

Mickey checked the time. Yeah, Ernie's place was definitely closed by now. Plus he really did just want to go back to Ian's. He glanced up to see Ian in almost full puppy-dog eyes. The dork was needlessly persuasive, he'd give him that.

"Yeah, sure. I could eat." He grinned like an idiot.

Ian nodded his head towards the stairwell, holding the door open for Mickey, who obediently followed up the steps.

--

Ian's apartment wasn't too different than Mickey and Mandy's, mirrored and maybe smaller, but it looked oddly inviting and definitely way more lived in -- almost too much décor and family photos hung up around the space.

"Uh, make yourself comfortable," Ian called as he rummaged through the cabinets, grabbing a couple plates to reheat some food for Mickey and himself.

Mickey was no stranger to feigning confidence in unfamiliar locations, but this felt different, more genuine. He actually respected Ian, the man having been kind and patient with him in a less than ideal situation.

He sat himself on the barstool at Ian's countertop and watched him. The gorgeous man who he had been eyeing in secret for months, who had helped him through a small panic attack, who had held his hand and traced his tattoos like they were art. Like Mickey was art.

"So, Bowie, huh?" Ian leaned against the counter, waiting out the timer on the microwave.

"What?"

"Your shirt," he pointed, and Mickey looked down.

"Oh, yeah. He's cool as fuck. Dope music."

"Got great hair, too."

"You would think so."

"Self-love, baby."

"Good for you." But there was no edge in his voice.

Ian smiled. The microwave beeped and they settled in, eating together with nothing but the awkward clanging of silverware and chewing. Mickey was too fucking starving and too fucking tired to care about formalities to give a shit at this point.

"Bet you didn't think you'd spend your night eating lasagna with a David Bowie look-alike, huh?" Ian teased over a mouthful of pasta.

"You wish, man."

"Hey, it's at least a little true."

"Yeah, you're both fuckin' aliens."

"Maybe so, but at least we're hot."

They both smiled around their forks, glancing over at each other a little too frequently with nothing but fondness.

--

Ian collected their plates when they were done, taking them over to the sink to wash them later. Mickey got up and followed him into the center of the kitchen, still sipping on his beer before setting it on the counter to his right.

In a move that shocked Ian, and even himself, Mickey moved into Ian's space and pressed his chest against Ian's back. He wrapped his arms around Ian's waist, feeling up the plains and softness of his stomach, feeling his breath hitch and his heart beat faster. Mickey's warm breath bounced off of Ian's neck and back onto his own face.

Ian sighed and placed his hands over Mickey's again. He leaned his head back onto Mickey's shoulder for a moment before wiggling free from Mickey's grip enough to turn around and face him, carding one of his hands through Mickey's dark hair.

"Mickey." He said it so soft. With so much admiration. Mickey couldn't take it anymore. He leaned up and pulled Ian's head down so they were the same height.

"Fuck, c'mere," he murmured, lips practically touching Ian's with the words.

Ian pressed their lips together. For all his gentle touches throughout the night, his kiss was anything but. Like he needed him to breathe.

Ian pushed him backwards towards the living room, stumbling over each others' feet in the process. Mickey greedily pulled down on Ian's neck, desperate not to let him go. Ian smiled into it and dropped backwards onto the couch cushions, pulling Mickey on top of him, making out like dumb teenagers.

--

Eventually, they settled and Mickey rested his head on Ian's chest while Ian rubbed his back and head comfortingly. Truthfully, he was beginning to panic a bit. He hadn't liked anyone in awhile, and Ian was very hard to not like.

"Are you good?"

Fuckin' mind reader.

"I don't know." Smooth, Mick.

"You don't know what?" Ian probed gently.

Mickey sighed, "How to do this," he answered honestly. There was no point in lying to Ian.

Ian kissed Mickey's forehead, "We can do this any way you want, alright? No rush, no pressure."

"Yeah?"

"Absolutely," Ian scratched Mickey's head for a moment, "I've been waiting for you for awhile, Mick, I'll wait for however long you want."

Mickey leaned into his touch and then kissed his shoulder, "I want you, this."

"Me too." They smiled into each other. Safe together.

--

Neither made a move to push things further for the night. Ian had flicked on the tv to the same channel Mickey had on earlier, the Jurassic Park marathon still playing. After whatever movie was on now, Mickey decided he should head home. He was utterly exhausted after the day, and as much as he liked Ian, he didn't want to pass out in the guy's apartment -- though he was sure Ian wouldn't mind at this point, kind bastard.

After Ian had pulled Mickey into one last embrace, Mickey wretched open Ian's door, only to come face to face with his sister, makeup smudged and heels in hand after her night out.

She gasped way louder than fucking necessary, "You slut!"

"Shut the fuck up," he grumbled pushing past her to head back to his own apartment.

"See ya later, Mick!" Ian called down the hall. Mickey didn't respond, but Ian took no offense. To be fair, he had just been caught red-handed by his very dramatic bitch of a sister.

Mandy grinned and looked between Mickey's retreating form and Ian's blushing face. "Oh my god, Ian! I knew it!"

"Hi, Mands." He ducked his head, scratching the back of his neck.

She gave a cheeky, knowing wave goodbye and took off barefoot after Mickey, "You fucker! I want all the details!"

"You ain't gettin' 'em, bitch!" He stormed inside, but left the door open for her behind him.

Mandy threw her shoes on the floor and met up with him in the kitchen, punching his arm lazily so he spilled his newly-opened beer down his hand. "The fuck?!"

"I'm so proud of you!" She made grabby hands at Mickey in attempts to smush his cheeks, but he weaseled out of there quick enough to avoid her gross hands. She may be fuckin' drunk, but she was still quick.

"Yeah, will well ya stop screaming it from the rooftops. Ian's gonna think I'm a fuckin' loser."

"Awww," She chased after him as he headed down the hall, "You are a loser, but that's besides the point! I've been waiting for this for weeks!"

"Night!" Mickey shut his bedroom door in Mandy's face. She'd get over it in a minute. Hell she was probably well on her way to passing out already. Maybe she'd get some details out of him tomorrow.

But tonight -- he reveled in the fact that he spent the night making out with his very kind, very dorky, very hot red-headed neighbor.

--

And when Mandy eventually moved out from their apartment and in with her girlfriend, Mickey had absolutely no problem finding a new red-headed roommate.

#gw2021 #gw2021day7 #gallavich week 2021 #shameless #gallavich #my posts #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

The Perfect Bad Boy (Pt. 10 of 18)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: Working as a lifeguard in the Hawkins Community Pool, you try to fit in after moving from New York. Things were going pretty well when you notice you've been under someone's stare. Billy Hargrove, Hawkins' bad boy, has been staring at you since day one. You never intended to have anything to do with him, judging by the reputation he has. But Billy won't leave you alone, determined to show you his feelings are different this time...

As if your heart flooding you with confusing feelings wasn't enough, there are weird, strange animals lurking in the woods... But those have to be just part of the wild live of the woods surrounding Hawkins... Right?

<- Previous part (09)

Next part (11)->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

×

Monsters Lurking In The Dark

Yesterday's happenings are making a lot of people talk to you today. They ask if you're alright, if you had to go to the hospital, why Billy ran like a lightning bolt to reach you... Some of them are actually being kind. Others, not so much. It feels like they're trying to get you to say something else, scavenging for a secret. Jason is the only one to actually get into a long conversation, making sure you're alright and giving you tips to avoid heat exhaustion again. But the others, mostly the girls, make awkward questions. You get that Billy's behavior is changing. Monica is often telling you about how some girls ask her if she knows what's going on between you and Billy. She never answers though, saying this isn't their business.

As you pace around the pool, a bottle of water on your hand since Billy is literally forcing you to drink water by the hour, you spot him chatting with some of his friends. Tommy and Carol are the only ones you can name, and you never got why you only hang out with your friends and not his. Billy has his eyes on the pools and the whistle between his lips. Tommy goes on about something, and suddenly, Billy lets the whistle fall, giving Tommy a weird stare. You giggle a little at his expression, crossing your arms.

“Look who's staring now,” Monica says in a provoking tone, stopping by your side. “But I totally get it. I'd be shamelessly staring too if I didn't have my sweetheart.”

“How's Christopher by the way?” She told you he had an accident in the garden, which got him a nasty cut on the leg.

“Complaining. But I'm enjoying taking care of him.” She smiles, and her eyes shine. Every passing day you're more convinced they're in love with each other. That you'll be attempting to their wedding one day. “What about you? You gotta be careful with the sun.”

“I am.” Raising your hand, you show her the bottle. “Billy is driving me insane. I swear I can't drink any more water today.”

“Can you blame him? I thought he'd have a heart attack yesterday.” He tilts her head to where he is, across the pools. His eyes meet yours and he winks. “Poor guy, he has it bad for you.”

Giggling, you look down because you're surely blushing. “Oh, tell me something. Some people came to talk to me, you know. Asking if I was alright. But some of them made some very awkward questions.”

“Yeah, that's because they think you're pregnant.”

Your eyes go wide, and you gasp, feeling your whole body numb for a moment. “What the hell,” you exclaim, a little too loud. Looking around, you notice some eyes on you. “Holy shit, Monica. Tell me you're joking.”

“Small town, (Y/N), people talk.” She puts a hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, half the women here went through something like that. They'll let go in a few weeks.”

“Do you think Billy knows?” You lift your eyes to look for him, but you only find his friends.

“Probably. But look, don't worry about it. You're the new girl who managed to hook Billy Hargrove, the town's bad boy. People will talk, but don't let it ruin what you have with him.”

“No, of course not.” As much as it bugs you, it doesn't change anything. “You know I'm falling for him, right?” You burst out, feeling the sudden need to let it out your chest. “Completely.”

“I'm noticing. You–”

She's cut short when you're pulled into something. Someone. You roll your eyes because you know who it is. Billy pulls you against his chest, his lips on your ear. “Do you know what they're saying about yesterday's episode?” He whispers, a hand coming to caress your belly.

Great. Now this will certainly make people forget this story. “Yeah. They think I'm carrying a tiny Billy.” You mutter, waving at Monica as she walks away with a smirk on her lips. “Was that what Tommy told you? You made a funny face.”

“Yes, but he said it in a way that almost had me breaking his ugly nose.” He keeps you close, despite the public. And honestly, you don't mind. A few days ago you'd push him away, but now... They'll speak anyway, so it doesn't matter.

“Hey, why don't we never hang out with your friends?” You take the chance to ask. “You don't want them to see you with me?” It's impossible not to follow this train of thought, and it does sound stupid judging by the way he's holding you right now, for everyone to see.

“Of course not. It just that I know the kind of assholes they are and I'm sure you won't like them.”

“But it's weird. I don't want you to think I'm forcing you to only hang out with my party.”

He takes a deep breath, and you feel his chest moving. That reminds you he's shirtless... “I'll introduce you to them... In the funfair tomorrow.”

“Oh my God, the funfair!” You exclaim. People have been talking about it for a few days, but you totally forgot. “I've never been to anything like that.”

“You're gonna love it.”

“You two. Back to your chairs.” The manager shouts from somewhere behind you, and you both roll your eyes at the same time.

“Talk to you later,” you tell him, tiptoeing to kiss his cheek.

“Remember to–”

“Yeah, yeah. Water, stay in the shadow. If I feel dizzy I'll shout for my knight in shining armor.” Walking backwards, you smirk at him. “Eyes on the pool, Hargrove,” you warn him, turning around and making your way back to the chair.

You're glad you're feeling good, no sign of anything you felt yesterday. And it isn't as hot as it was, so that's a bonus. You're peacefully watching the kids, yelling at some, threatening some teenagers to ban them for life, just the normal stuff. Through the corner of your eye, you notice Billy gesturing. When you look at him, he shows you his bottle.

Shaking your head no, you try to ignore him. But you are a little thirsty, so you sigh before jumping to the ground. On your way to the cafeteria, you stop by his chair. “Want some?”

“Nah, I'm good.”

“Don't act like you can't be beaten by heat exhaustion too, Hargrove. I'm bringing you some cold water.” Punching his leg playfully, you go to the cafeteria.

You're a little startled to find James in there, seated on the table next to the wall, both hands on his head. As you silently open the fridge, you wonder if you should just leave him alone. You never really spoke, and since he switched his schedule with Billy, you have seen less of him. Today should be his day off if you're not mistaken.

“Hey, James,” you say in a soft voice, standing by the fridge as you take one of the bottles Billy has for you. “You ok?”

“Huh?” He looks up abruptly, suddenly aware he's not alone. “Hey.”

You were going to leave, but he seems scared... Red eyes as if he didn't get any sleep. “Is something wrong?” You sit before him, placing the bottle on the table. “You look... sad.”

“Oh, it's just... Nothing, really. It's stupid.” He's mumbling under his breath, a line of sweat on his forehead.

“Whatever it is it's not stupid. Who told you it was?”

“My parents, my brother.” He breathes out, his eyes suddenly meeting yours. “You're new here, right? Did you move from a big city?”

“New York. Why?”

“I'm from Washinton. Have you ever crossed paths with something in the woods? Some... Some kind of animal? And when you told someone they just said it was because you're some big city kid who's not used to live so near the forest and because of that you're easily impressed by anything weird you see?” James speaks fast, so fast it's hard to keep up.

“Actually yes.” You nod, keeping your voice low and soft in an attempt to calm him down. You never saw anyone so scared. “A few weeks ago I saw something, but I didn't get a good look at it. Don't know what it was.”

“I don't know what species of-of... Things they have here, but what I saw... I couldn't sleep. I thought about telling the chief of police but everyone keeps saying I'm crazy.”

“What did you see, James?”

He puts his hands on his head again, looking at the table. “It... It was the size of a dog. And I thought it was a stray dog so I stopped the car and followed it.” His voice cracks, so you get up, moving to sit on the chair beside him, touching his arm. “It was so damn dark and I had no flashlight. It was near a tree, eating something. I started calling it, trying to show it I was just trying to help but then... It-It turned at me and... Shit, the damn thing had no face. It was blank. Sticky... no fur, no eyes, nothing.” He moves suddenly, holding both your shoulders roughly. You gasp at the sudden change, looking at him, tears threatening to roll down from his eyes. “I ran like hell. I told my parents the moment I got home but they said it was something in the woods playing tricks on me but I know what I saw. The damn thing had no face, I swear–”

“Let go of her right now.” Billy's thunder voice makes James jump up, making his chair fall backwards. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

“Billy, it's alright.” Quickly, you stand up and walk over him.

“I'm sorry, I just...” James tries to speak, hands raised in defeat. It looks like he didn't know what he was doing. “Sorry, (Y/N).”

He walks around the table, eyes on the floor. Billy gives a step towards him, but you hold him back, both hands on his chest. “Billy, no. Listen...” You whisper to him, your eyes meeting his when James finally leaves the cafeteria. “He wasn't trying to hurt me or anything, he was just scared.”

“Scared of what?” He looks down at you, his hands softly rubbing the skin of your shoulders. “It'll leave bruises. What the hell did he think he was doing?”

As much as you melt a little to feel his touch after the sting from James' grip, you have this feeling in your stomach. You can't seem to shake it away, and the more you think, the worse it gets. “Billy... Remember when I told you I saw something in the woods?” He nods, confused. “James saw it too... Same description. He... He said it had no face, and I... I think that's exactly what I saw.”

His expression changes, and you can't read his face. Taking a deep breath, he sits on the table, pulling you to sit beside him. “James came here a few months ago. From a big city too, so it's normal to be scared when–”

“He was desperate because that's exactly what people are telling him.” You cut him off, running a hand through your hair. “Billy, he wasn't scared. He was terrified.” Your voice gets lower, as your mind floats back to what you saw. Naked skin, as if it was green, covered in some disgusting thing... “I know it sounds crazy, but I swear to God his description matched what I saw that day.” It suddenly comes to your mind... There was a lab here. A lab and a bunch of weird stories about it. “Hawkins National Lab!” You exclaim, jumping to your feet. “What if they made an experiment with some kind of animal and now it's free in the woods?”

“Hawkins Lab was closed years ago.”

“I know but–” Billy takes your hand, pulling you close. He holds you by the hips, raising his head to meet your eyes from his seated position.

“Princess, listen. It's true there was a lab, and it's also true that the darkness and these woods play tricks on people who aren't used to them.” He speaks slow, eyes never leaving yours. “It may be something but it could also be a big misunderstanding. If it happens again, if you or anyone else sees anything like that, we'll tell the cops and let them deal with it.”

Taking a deep breath, you decide to let his calming tone relax you. “Alright...” Nodding, you take a look at your shoulders, spotting the purple marks of where James fingers dig into your skin. “The guy was really out of his mind,” you mutter.

“Yeah...” Billy stands up, placing a kiss on both your shoulders before straighten up, his index finger on your chin. “Let's go back there before Anthony notices we're gone again.”

Nodding, you follow him back outside.

• • •

You wish you knew how to draw. If you did, you'd make a scratch of the animal you saw, and another one of what James described, just to see if they would really match.

You're staring at the ceiling, on your unusually empty bed. Having Billy here was amazing. Beyond amazing. Having his strong arms around you, and waking up next to him on the morning was pure bliss. You never thought such a feeling existed. It felt like home, like life was nothing but a long road leading you to that very moment. To his embrace, so warm and calming.

You chose to think about that instead of the unclassified animal. That brings a shiver down your spine, different from the shivers Billy causes. The last ones are made of nervousness, excitement... All those silly things. Tossing around, you sit up, your feet on the cold floor. Your eyes fall on the necklace, that you always keep on the nightstand. Billy kept his promise, and he wears his piece every day. You have to tell him he doesn't have to, not anymore. He already made his point, and you know he has other earrings to use.

Smiling to yourself, you pick the necklace up, fingers caressing the metal. You need to tell Billy what you feel. Openly. You do have something going on, but it's still unnamed. And there's no reason to remain that way. If he wants you, if he truly wants to keep you... He has to know you want him too. That you want to be with him, and screw the rest of the world. Screw the past, the gossip, whatever people of Hawkins think. This is about both of you, nobody else. It's useless to keep pretending Billy Hargrove doesn't own your heart. This torture can't continue, there's no reason to.

Your train of thought is interrupted by the phone's loud ring. You're about to answer when you hear your aunt's footsteps downstairs. It's probably Robert, she was saying something about him calling her today. As she picks up, you put the necklace down and walk over the window, feeling the fresh summer breeze tickling your skin.

“(Y/N)!” Diane shouts, and her urgent tone startles you. “(Y/N)! Pick up the phone!” Her rapid footsteps bring her to your bedroom, a worried expression on her face. “Pick up now. It's Max, she's crying. I don't know–”

The mention of Billy's sister has you moving, picking up the light pink phone you have on the nightstand. “Max?” You breathe out, eyes focused on Diane as she breathes fast.

“(Y/N)..!” Her voice is weak, like a low scream. You hear voices behind her, and you immediately recognize Billy's. But there's someone else, a man's voice. “(Y/N), please, you need to–” She's cut short by something breaking. “It's Neil. He's here, please–”

“Hang up the damn–” Then it's over.

For a moment, a second, you just stand there, frozen, looking at Diane. But on the next one, you're moving, your heart threatening to beat its way out of your chest.

“Honey, what is it?” Diane follows as you rush downstairs, grabbing nothing but the car keys.

“Billy's father. I gotta go.” It's everything you manage to say before storming outside.

×

A/N: Things are about to get chaotic...

×

@chloe-skywalker @dpaccione @tilesandtokens @dreamin-of-dacre @funeral-7 @uncookspaget @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @dontxfearxthereaper

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy stranger things #stranger things imagine #billy hargrove fanfiction #imagine stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

[thatlarainop]

ON THE SURFACE (Benn x OC)

(cross posted on archiveofourown.org)

Chapter 1: Bond

“So, you’re finally finishing your studies, uh?” asked the red haired boy to the other guy, who was slightly taller and muscular than him. Said man looked at him, then shook his head with a discreet smile

“Unfortunately no, Shanks-“ Ben began, while he lighted a cigarette, looking at his younger friend, whom he considered as his little brother. They had known each other for more than a decade, ever since Shanks moved in his neighbourhood as a little boy with his parents. Ben was asked to look after him, since he was little and troublemaker. He was sceptical at first, but after spending some time together he grew affectionate of him, to the point they formed a fraternal bond.

“I’d like to get a doctorate in business, even if it takes lot of time and efforts,” Ben admitted, grinning around his cigarette.

“You aim high, as usual,” Shanks added, smiling softly. “And this is what I’ve always admired of you.”

Ben smiled at that, and ruffled his messy red hair lovingly.

“You should get an haircut though,” Shanks said suddenly, staring at Ben’s long wavy black hair, which were tied in a low ponytail, with a rebel strand that always hung on the left side of his face.

“Shut up.” Ben deadpanned.

-

Later in the afternoon, Ben was alone in a small park, studying for final exams. Usually no one came here, as there was no playground for the children, especially in earlier afternoon hours. There was absolute silence, and Ben was enjoying the calmness of the place. He then decided to go somewhere and eat something, and decided to take a shortcut, since San Francisco is full of them. He then heard loud voices coming from a small side street, and he got curious as he heard the tones of said voices getting more and more aggressive.

He then noticed a girl around his age standing fearless in front of three slightly older and towering men, whom had an ugly grin on their faces.

They made fun of her, called her names and overall humiliated her, but she was standing still and fiercely in front of them. That made the ‘men’ angry, and they started threatening her and even dared to raise their hands to her.

Ben went ballistic and started walking towards them. The girl knew how to defend herself, clearly she had learned martial arts in self-defence. She successfully knocked out two of the men, but Ben got alarmed when he saw the only man standing, perhaps the most dangerous one, holding a dagger behind his back, out from the girl’s sight.

He put himself between the two dangerously staring at the man in front of him. He was a bit taller than him, but less muscular and nevertheless coward. Ben spit his cigarette on the ground, before he fully faced him.

“You know,” Ben began, cracking a grin that was full of disgust and pity for this ‘man’, as the latter spat on him. “I don’t know what’s more gutless: the fact that three of you were against a single girl or that you’re hiding a fucking dagger behind your back.” He concluded calmly, as he felt the woman tense behind him. He didn’t want to startle her more than she already was.

“You are the classic man all hat and no cattle, aren’t you? It won’t take me much time to stab you dead. And don’t worry, that whore behind your back will pay the same price.”

Ben rolled his eyes, before crossing his arms. “If I were all hat and no cattle, as you say, I wouldn’t have joined the army years ago.”

The other man hadn’t wasted further time and he attacked as fast and as powerfully as he could, aiming at Ben’s stomach. But he was stopped in place by his hand and, after waiting a few seconds, Ben twisted the man’s arm behind his back, and brought him to his knees before declaring: “Next time think twice before going up against someone!” And with a punch he knocked him out and then kicked him on the stomach, making him roll without consciousness towards his companions.

Ben sighed before turning to the woman, whose face colour was still drained. His hard expression softened after seeing her so distraught, so he put his hands on her shoulder and shook her gently. “Hey! Everything is alright now. Are you hurt?” he asked calmly, even though he was overall worried. She looked at him more serene than before, the sweet curls of her golden blonde hair falling sweetly all the way towards her back, making her appear as an angel in his eyes. She then cleared her voice and asked confidently: “What’s your name?”

“Ben, Ben Beckman, and yours?” he asked, looking right in her eyes. “Sophie, Sophie Harper.”

“Well Sophie, I suggest calling the police, and get rid of them once for all,” he mused, and she nodded in agreement.

-

They were finally released in the evening, as the three men were officially arrested. Even though the woman at his side was confident and powerful, both physically and mentally as he had witnessed in the afternoon, he could have sworn that she was still upset. And cold, as she was holding her shoulders with both hands and was trembling. Despite this, her expression was still firm, and at the same time gentle.

Ben didn’t say a word as he took off his black jacket and put it gently over her shoulder. She looked up at him in surprise (as he was very tall, and her head could only reach the base of his neck) but didn’t protest, and just muttered a grateful thank you. She felt guilty though, as remained only with his black t-shirt, whereas she had a warm black sweater and a white miniskirt (and she’d damned herself for this choice, since she knew the temperatures would have dropped).

She wanted to give back his jacket, when she heard his stomach grumbling. She laughed heartily, and he was a little embarrassed but still didn’t budge. “I’ve only had breakfast and you know, today has been busy and yeah, I’m hungry.” He joked drily, still finding amusing how ridiculously his jacket looked on her. Still he found her cute.

“Well, I know a pub that is nearby, we could go there and eat and drink something. My treat,” before Ben opened his mouth to protest, she patted his shoulder “you need to grow up, big boy.”

-

“You know what’s curious about you?” Sophie started, as she tied her hair in a knot, “your hair. I mean, it’s so long and beautiful. You can keep it better than I can do with mine. That’s not fair” she puffed jokingly, while taking a sip of her beer. She still had his jacket nearby, it smelled of cigarettes, sea and cologne, smell that she couldn’t forget easily.

He puffed the smoke of his cigarette out, his smile curving around it. “Actually it’s a family secret,” he deadpanned, before adding “my father too has long hair, although his is straight.”

She nodded amusedly, and at the same time couldn’t help but stare at his eyes. Their colour is similar to deer’s, a deep dark brown, a lighter shade of brown lining the edges within an luminescent glow, and they are sharp, full of intelligence and wisdom.

They then started a conversation as they decided to get to know each other better. He told her about his aspirations in the future, whereas she told him she decided to improve her passion and become a professional photographer. She even confessed that she dropped her lawyer studies to do so, much to her family’s disappointment. “I’ve already found someone that pays me for my photographs, and I’ve been asked to take some pictures of the Grandline University, and also to write something about it.”

He looked at her in surprise, as he told her that he was studying there, and was willing to help her. She looked so grateful, knowing that she could have worked with someone she liked. But then her expression became somber as she was staring at the scars in his arms, as they looked old but still painful. She then remembered that he was once part of the army, so she already knew the answer. But she was a stranger to him, to that broad shouldered man that looked so intimidating and yet had a calm and gentle attitude (with her, because she remembered how threatening and dangerous he was with her attacker.)

They continued their conversation, both spoke about their families, but didn’t spend more than a few words about them, both willing to not go into details. Sophie then paid and put herself on his jacket, and they made their way to her apartment. It was late and wanted to invite him inside, but then she thought it was inappropriate to invite a stranger this way. Yet.

She gave him back the jacket, and hugged him as a thank you. He returned it back, and went back to his own flat.

-

The day after they met in a café and had breakfast together, both happy to see each other again, with Ben constantly eyeing Sophie’s professional camera. The 24 years-old girl, she is younger than him by just one year, told him it was her mother’s gift, as she was the only one that backed her decision to fulfil her dream.

They then set out and went to the University. Sophie photographed all the buildings in various perspectives, while Ben told her everything he knew, but at some point she noticed a fountain, exactly at the centre of the compound. It represents a statue of a mermaid, perhaps a princess, and she was quite sure it was made of marble. Ben quirked an eyebrow at her bewilderment, and provided her an explanation. “It’s Shirahoshi, a legendary mermaid. She was also a princess, but what made her even more peculiar was her power. She was said to be the incarnation of the Ancient Weapon Poseidon, but nothing more is known about her. We are talking about something that might have existed more than 1 million years ago, nor is known the real power of this Ancient Weapon.”

She nodded interested, while taking some pictures, and mentally promised that she would write something down about this mermaid.

As the day went by, she noticed how much fast the time has passed, as she was fascinated by Ben’s way of talking and explaining. She couldn’t have imagined a better way of working. A very pleasant company and a large variety of stories and places.

Even Ben was comfortable around her, as she was a quiet presence, except for some pleasant joke every now and then, and a very good and curious listener. He thought that they really had a good chemistry, no one interrupted the other and they were attracted to one another.

When Shanks saw them together, during his date with another girl, he thought that his friend finally found someone that truly made him happy. And he wanted to celebrate, also because he himself had a great girl by his side. Her name was Makino and to him she appeared as beautiful as a mermaid, and nevertheless a kind presence.

-

Some months have passed by, and Ben finally decided to take Sophie out for a date. They went to the same pub they went when they first met. But this time the ending was different.

He took her home to his own flat, which had a double bed, and of course he did spring cleaned. He always claimed he didn’t have enough time to clean everything, but as a matter of fact he was a messy person.

He went to the kitchen and started preparing some tea, whereas she looked around the walls. There were lots of photos, him with his parents, with his friends and a photo of him dressed in his military uniform. He had slight short hair, his muscular chest and arms were well visible beneath his clothing, and he was briefly smiling at the camera. Beside him was Shanks, his friend she got to know, in his civilian clothes and unmissable straw hat.

“Tea is ready,” he announced, with an unlit cigarette in his mouth and a tray in his hands. He saw her poking around, and couldn’t help but smiling. Especially when he saw her spotting a photo taken during his military service. “That was not a nice time,” he said quietly, images of that period flashing in front of him. She turned around, but she didn’t have that look of pity he hated so much. Her expression was soft and sympathetic. “You want to…talk about it?” She questioned quietly. “Sure.”

He was pouring tea in her mug, then looked into her beautiful seafoam green eyes and started talking. “As you might have understood, I’ve been part of the army for a period of my life. To be precise, I was 19 at the time and I’ve wanted to follow in my parents’ footstep. They both were part of the army, both were important pillars of it. I… didn’t want to be any less.” he took a sip of his tea, whereas Sophie was trying to grasp every information he was giving her, holding her breath and waiting for the worse to come.

“And so I signed up, after I graduated high school. I was quite good at it actually, and that’s because my father insisted on training me when I was younger. And everyone knew me, Beckman isn’t exactly an unknown last name in this field. And this is what almost killed me,” he took a pause, while she gulped, eyes getting even wider, as she silently got closer to his, holding his hand. “It was during a mission, I had to save a friend of mine, but I wasn’t careful enough, and the opposing army took me as an hostage.”

He took a deep breath, and he looked at her in the eyes, deer brown meeting green seafoam. He brushed a strand of blonde hair off her face, and then continued: “It was a great opportunity for them, they sent photos to my parents, and even videos of my torture, but… I still refused to tell them the things they pretended to know from me. But I had to pay the price for that as you can see. They split open my left forearm, and even marked my right forearm with a cross. My face, chest and legs were full of bruises and my nose was broken.”

He then pinched his nose to calm himself, before ending with: “I thought I was deemed to die, since they even shot me in the shoulder and thigh, but I was saved by my friends. They successfully tracked me down, and defeated our enemies. They found me tied in a chair with a rope, beaten up but alive. We won, and I didn’t give up until the end. That was my victory,” he whispered, smiling briefly at Sophie, whom had tears in her eyes. “My parents were of course distraught by all of this, and I told them that I wanted to go to university. And now I want to get a doctorate in business. They were of course relieved, and I’ve hugged both of them the tightest way I could, like when I was a child.”

She hugged him, crying in his arms. Ben took her face in his hands, wiped her tears from her face and kissed her lightly. They both were in each other arms, comforted by their own closeness. He then lift her up in his arms gently, and brought her in his bedroom. He gently laid her in his bed and his gaze focused in her clothes. Her wardrobe was always so colourful, kissed by the rainbow, and he especially liked her short sleeved sweater coloured of a rich yellow. They took off their clothes, he put on a condom and passion overwhelmed them.

Making love with him was the sweetest thing she ever experienced. His rough hands were delicate on her body, the kisses they shared were soft and wet. It was her first time, and she did it with a great man.

-

7 Years later

Ben was humming a song while he was preparing dinner for him and his fiancée. Sophie told him she had something to do, but he didn’t know what.

He just came home from work, and was pretty happy since he got promoted and his salary was increased.

“Hey Benny?” called out Sophie, putting on her slippers. She had a very big smile and was blushing a little. He came out of the kitchen with his blue kitchen apron and his hair tied in a low knot. She laughed softly at his appearance and hugged him briefly.

“Why are smiling this way?” he asked, amused despite himself.

Without any warns, she took his hand and put it on her belly, that was a little rounder than usual, and said: “Our baby is in there.”

He was shocked and became a little paler, then he covered his mouth with his hands and supressed the tears welling up in his eyes. He regained his calm attitude and he smiled, while he hugged his fiancée.

-

8 months later

The 33 years-old man was pacing around the waiting room. Shanks himself was nervous, so it didn’t really help him. The red haired man was becoming an uncle!

Ben was in great turmoil, and he was even shaking. His baby girl didn’t want to come out, and his fiancée had been in the delivery room for almost one full day. His parents and Shanks tried to calm him down, but without success. He also received various calls from Sophie’s parents, since they couldn’t come because of the weather., and that didn’t help his anxiety.

The midwife told him that Sophie needed a caesarean section, otherwise she and the baby would have been in even more life threatening. He nodded and sat down on his chair, Shanks put his only hand on his shoulder, to give the man some comfort. Ben was fighting back tears, and looked at his side, where he had located a teddy bear and chocolates. It was the 14th February, it was Valentine’s day.

Time passed slowly, and he was getting even more desperate, he felt a terrible headache and was paler that usual. He was about to go out and lit another cigarette, when he heard a baby cry, and he felt the floor crumble beneath him. He looked at the delivery room and Shanks got closer to him, offering him fraternal support.

He waited now with more hope, until a nurse brought him inside. His Sophie was lying exhausted, she looked paler and had horrendous dark circles, and was panting, her hand holding her chest. “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. Wait there, I’ll bring you your baby,” said the nurse with an understanding smile. He muttered a thank you and sat down near Sophie, stroking gently her sweaty hair.

“Hey, everything is fine now,” she said, once she saw his anxious and worried expression. She even smiled softly when she saw the teddy bear in his arms. Their eyes brightened when they saw the midwife coming with the cleaned and swaddled child. The baby girl was sleeping, and when she was handled to her mother she started fussing, cuddling even nearer to her. Ben stroked gently her head, and was surprised to see that much hair she inherited from him.

Lara was the name they chose, and with her birth she crowned their bond.

#benn beckman #shanks #one piece #marshall d. teach #original character #monkey d. luffy #shanks x makino #one piece makino #red haired pirates

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 8: A Case of the Ex”

Oh Sonny, what are we going to do with you? Actually I can certainly think of one or two things 😜 Anyways, welcome to Part 8 where we find out how the reader reacts when Sonny brought over his “mystery guest”  to dinner 👀 

Thanks for all the love with this series! You guys are amazing ❤️

This couldn’t be happening. This was a dream. Yes, a dream. You were simply having a nightmare. It was an illusion. A succession of images that usually occur involuntarily in the mind during certain stages of sleep. Any moment now you would wake up with Rafael’s limbs entangled around you like overgrown vines, heating your body. You swore that man was a walking furnace. From under the table you discreetly pinched your arm, wincing slightly when you felt the sharp pain from where your nails dug into your skin. Oh no. That proved it. This was real.

When you announced to your family that the engagement with Theo was off, you happened to leave out several important details such as coming home from work early one day to find him in bed with the flighty twenty-one year old who delivered your dry cleaning. Only your sisters knew the truth and you practically made them swear a blood oath that they wouldn’t tell a soul.

It’s not that you were a particularly private person. Being raised in the Carisi household, everyone was in each other’s business. But with Theo, it was different. He was your next door neighbor. You grew up together. You were the Mary to his Joseph in the Nativity play in the third grade. Your mom and his mom taught Catechism together. Breaking off your engagement left you heartbroken and you didn’t want to burden your family with the details. Your dad was recovering from a heart attack. Your mom had her hands full between caring for your father and worrying about her children. And then there was Sonny.  

Working with SVU over the years, you noticed a change in him. He was more quiet and cautious, even becoming a borderline realist—a stark contrast from the goofy, loveable, optimistic, older brother. You saw how Mike Dodd’s death affected him, even though Sonny tried to hide it from you. Then a year later during a night out at the bar, he drunkenly confessed that a perp by the name of Tom Cole had held him at gunpoint while he was trying to save a victim. You saw how his body trembled in fear, the tears in his eyes. Although you begged him to get therapy, he shrugged off your suggestion and told you to drop it. You never spoke of it again. The last thing you wanted to do was give him one more thing to worry about. Your life and all its troubles seemed to pale in comparison to the nightmare he had lived through.

Rafael glanced between you and the man who resembled an Italian Vogue model standing next to Sonny. “Is that who I think it is?” he mumbled. The tiniest nod of your head confirmed his suspicions.

So this was the infamous ex-fiancé. Theo was the very definition of tall, dark, and handsome: chocolate brown eyes, thick shiny mane, and a dazzling smile which Rafael could’ve sworn were caps. Not to mention, he was in your age bracket.

Rafael slumped down in his seat a bit, feeling self conscious. He had always thought he was a decent looking guy. Walking down the courthouse halls with his swagger and sharp suits, he noticed several women and men eyeing him. But compared to Theo, Rafael felt like the Hunchback of Notre Dame.

Gina narrowed her eyes. “What is he doin’ here?”

“Yeah,” Bella added. “Shouldn’t he be out getting his dry cleaning?”

“Girls,” Julia scolded although she was just as surprised to see your ex in her dining room.

The last time Theo visited your parents was about two years ago when you both were making a seating chart for your wedding. Then one Sunday you came to the house alone with your eyes red-rimmed and puffy, announcing the engagement was off. You had claimed the reason was because Theo was moving too fast and that you weren’t ready to settle down just yet. But something told Julia Carisi that there was more to the story than what you were letting on, call it a mother’s intuition. Regardless of your mysterious breakup, your mother was not about to be rude to her new guest. She could give Emily Post a lesson in being a good hostess. Getting up from the table, she smiled and pulled Theo into a hug. “Theo, sweetheart. It’s so nice to see you. How’re your parents?”

“Great to see you too, Julia. The folks are fine. I hope it’s ok I’m here.”

“Absolutely. We have plenty of food.” Julia turned towards her husband. “Dom, can you get another chair?” Your father didn’t respond, still in shock over the sudden reappearance of your ex. “Dom!” She clapped her hands to get her husband’s attention.

“Huh,” Dom said, snapping out of his trance. “Oh sure.”

As your father left to get a chair, Sonny smiled and patted Theo on the back. “Let me grab ya’ a plate and some silverware.”

While your parents and brother were busy making your guest comfortable, Theo caught your eye and immediately made a beeline towards you. “Hey stranger.” Before you could even react, he wrapped his arms around you, his one hand pressed into the small of your back. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, his lips grazing your ear. You stood there frozen with your arms at your sides. It took all your strength to quell the wave of nausea rising in your stomach.

In Rafael’s opinion, the hug lasted much longer than what society would deem to be acceptable. His fists slightly trembled. He could feel himself quickly transforming into the ugly green monster within. “Hi,” he said, a little too loudly. “I’m Rafael. Y/N’s boyfriend.”

Finally letting you go, Theo turned towards Rafael and laughed before focusing his attention back on you. “He’s kidding, right?”

You immediately reached for Rafael, finding comfort in his presence by your side. “Actually he’s quite serious. Do you find that amusing?”

Upon learning that you and Rafael were together, Theo’s lips curved into a smirk that left you feeling uneasy. “Well then, I suppose congratulations are in order,” he replied and extended his hand to Rafael. “You’re a lucky man. There’s nobody like Y/N.” He glanced your way with a glint in his eye. “Nobody.”

Dom and Sonny came out of the kitchen with an extra chair and a place setting. “Here ya’ go, pal,” Sonny said. Theo took the chair and placed it right next to yours, reaching across you to grab some of your mother’s lasagna.

He took a bite and moaned. “This is delicious, Julia. I’ve sure missed your cooking.” His foot slyly nudged yours under the table causing you to scooch your chair away.

Being smushed in between your boyfriend and your ex-fiance was some sort of cruel torture. You were seconds away from lunging across the table and punching your brother, but instead you stood up. “Sonny, I need your help getting some wine from the kitchen.”

“Now? But we have wine here.” Sonny motioned to the Amarone on the table.

“Yes, but there’s a nice Chianti in the kitchen and it’s on a shelf that I can’t reach.” You crossed your arms and gave your brother a threatening glare. “Now or I’ll eat your liver with some fava beans. I hear it pairs nicely with a Chianti.” Sonny sighed and followed you into the kitchen.

You gripped the edge of the sink and silently counted to 10 in order to calm yourself before addressing your brother.

“So where’s the Chianti or did ya’ just bring me in here to watch ya’ breath,” Sonny remarked.

You whipped your head around and narrowed your eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Sonny innocently shrugged. “Havin’ lunch with my family.”

“Don’t be cute.” You tugged on your mom’s yellow kitchen gloves and began to furiously scour a greasy pan with a brillo pad, finding some sense of clarity in your angry cleaning. “I can’t believe you invited Theo. How dare you!”

“What’s wrong with that? Theo hasn’t been here in ages.”

“Yes and there’s a reason for it. We broke up or maybe you haven’t gotten that through your thick skull yet.”

Sonny pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand ya’, Y/N. First ya’ break off the engagement with Theo cause he’s movin’ way too fast even though you two grew up 6 feet away from each other for 18 years. But one month with Rafael and you’re ready for a colonial, 2.5 kids, and a collie?”

“My personal life is none of your business,” you growled.

Sonny scoffed. “Well actually it is my business since you are fuckin’ someone I work with.”

You dropped the dish you were cleaning with a violent clang, water splashing everywhere and took a few steps toward your brother. “Choose your next words wisely, Dominick Carisi, Jr.”

Sonny shook his head, his appearance akin to disappointment. It was hard for him to separate the woman you had become with the little girl you once were.  If he closed his eyes, he could picture you with your skinned knees and unruly hair coming out of your french braid, demanding piggyback rides from him. And even though that little girl was gone, you were still so young and naive about this world. There was so much you needed to learn.

“What happened to us, Y/N. I mean we used to be so close. I’m your big brother and I’m tryin’ to look out for ya’.” He tentatively put his hand on your shoulders, tilting his head lower to meet your gaze. “I’m doin’ this because I love ya’ and I want what’s best for ya’. I’ve worked with Barba for years. I know him and he’s not a good fit for ya’. You’re going to regret this.”

You fought back the sting of tears and tucked in your quivering bottom lip. You refused to cry in front of Sonny. Although you hated to admit it, his opinion mattered to you. It broke your heart that he didn’t approve of you and Rafael.

Just then the kitchen door swung opened, revealing your boyfriend’s handsome head poking in. “Everything ok in here?” He stepped into the kitchen. “Cause Gina is asking me when we’re gonna make her an aunt and that led to one of your nieces asking where babies come from and your mom is trying to eavesdrop on you both with a glass held up to the wall.”

“Why don’t ya’ mind your own business, Barba,” Sonny sneered. “I’m talkin’ to my sister.”

“Not anymore. We’re leaving.” You rushed past him and ran back out into the dining room, meeting the shocked faces of your family.

“Everything ok?” Julia asked. The shortness of breath in her voice indicated that she had just ran to her seat from her position near the wall.

“I’m sorry. We have to go,” you mumbled and made a mad dash to the foyer to grab yours and Rafael’s coats.

Your parents exchanged a worried glance and immediately followed you.  “Honey, are you sure? What about dessert? I made your favorite cheesecake. Please stay,” Julia pleaded

Your dad leaned forward and spoke softly, “Ya’ know if you’re upset about Sonny bringing that pretty boy punk over for lunch I can kick him out. For that matter, I can kick Rafael out too. Anything for my little patatina.” He grinned and booped you on the nose.

You faked a smile for your father. “That won’t be necessary, Pops.”

Julia smoothed down your hair. “Then sweetheart what’s wrong?”

The words were right there at the tip of your tongue. You wanted more than anything to confess everything then march over to Theo and crush his balls into powder. But one look at your family told you now was not the time, not when you were surrounded by your adorable albeit nosy nieces and nephews and your sisters who thought of family drama as a national sport.

So instead you hemmed and hawed, stammering over your words as you tried to think of a plausible reason for your sudden departure when Rafael spoke up behind you. “Actually it’s my fault,” he lied and wound his arm around you. “I’m so sorry. I got a call from work and I need to run over to the office for a few hours.”

Sonny followed Rafael into the foyer and arched a brow in suspicion, not falling for his excuse. “That’s funny. I never got a call from Liv about a case or anything.”

Rafael turned towards the detective and narrowed his eyes. “Oh don’t worry. I’ll be filling you in on the details later.”

“Well, let me pack up some food for you both. It’s the least I can do.” Julia gently cupped your face and patted Rafael on her way to the kitchen in search of tupperware but you stopped her.

“Some other time, Ma. We really have to go.” You kissed her and your dad and waved goodbye to the rest of your family.

“Thank you for a wonderful meal. It was nice to—” Rafael was unable to finish his farewell as you dragged him out the door.

“What the hell was that all about?” your dad asked Sonny once you had left.

Sonny ignored him and pushed past his parents to run out after you. “Y/N! Wait!”

You stopped in your tracks and turned towards your brother, slapping him hard across the face. Your entire body shook with rage, tears streamed down your cheeks. You felt completely and utterly betrayed by the one person you had relied on your entire life. “Stay out of my life,” you said in a shaky voice before getting in the car with Rafael and driving away.

You only made it one block when you had to pull over, your tears blinding your vision. Slumping over the steering wheel, your forehead connected with the horn causing the most pathetic little beep as you cried even harder. This was not how you intended the day to go. Rafael rubbed your back in soothing circles. “Shhh, it’ll be ok, hermosa. Everything’s going to work out,” he cooed.

“No it won’t,” you wailed and banged your head against the steering wheel several more times.

Rafael winced and tried to pull you away from the beeping horn, not wanting to create yet another scene. “Babe, stop. I don’t want someone from Neighborhood Watch to come out.”

You sat up and sniffled. “I’m so sorry about Theo and lunch.”

“I’ve experienced much worse during lunch. Trust me.” He handed you his handkerchief and ran his fingers through your hair. “Do you want me to drive?”

You loudly blew your nose and hiccupped. “Sure. Can you drive?”

“Of course I can drive. Now let’s trade.” Unbuckling your seatbelt, you got out of the car and swapped places. “Can I drive?” he mumbled, chuckling to himself. Of course he failed to mention that he only learned to drive a few years ago, never really seeing a need for it when he lived in Manhattan, one of the highest rated cities for public transportation. Once you were comfortable, he turned on the ignition and sped down the street, making his way back to the city.

*****

Sonny stood there, stunned, listening to the sound of your car screeching down the street. A laugh coming from the porch signaled his attention. “Ladies and gentlemen of Sycamore Avenue, behold the man who was just bitch slapped by his baby sister!” Bella announced.

Sonny rolled his eyes. “What are ya’ doin’ out here?”

“Ma wanted me to check on ya’.” She sat down on the front step and patted the spot next to her at which he begrudgingly obliged her request. She leaned forward and inspected the right side of his face. “Huh, interesting. I can make out a thumb print.”

“Stop it.” He crossed his arms and scooted away, trying to cover the one side of his face.

Bella shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re an amazing big brother and I’m grateful for all you’ve done, especially with Tommy. But when are ya’ gonna realize Y/N’s not a little girl anymore. She is the most level-headed out of all of us that includes you,” she said with a smirk and playfully nudged him. “She knows what she’s doing and Rafael is an incredible guy. Ya’ have to be deaf, dumb, and blind to not see that he adores her.”

“I just want what’s best for her and that’s not Rafael. You of all people should understand. Ya’ caught a glimpse of the world that Rafael and I live in during Tommy’s trial. I don’t want that for her. I don’t want that for any of ya.” Sonny sighed and rested his elbows on his knees, slouching as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders

“Hey,” Bella softly said, flicking her brother’s ear to get his attention. “I know your job is tough. I mean I can’t imagine the things you face everyday but ya’  gotta stop this. You have to stop living for this job, it’s gonna eat you alive. We’re all worried about ya.”

Sonny scoffed. “I’m fine.”

“Oh yeah? Then tell me when was the last time ya’ went out on a date or ya’ didn’t wake up from a nightmare or ya’ took a vacation. Think about it.” She patted his knee and stood up to leave before turning back one last time. “Just don’t push people out of your life cause otherwise you’ll end up alone.”

Bella had hit the nose right on the head. He hated when she was right. Between law school and work, he hadn’t been living. When he wasn’t working, he was studying or taking a class or screaming in his sleep after having yet another nightmare of Tom Cole holding a gun to his forehead. In truth, there was someone who had caught his eye. Someone he had wanted to ask out from the moment he saw her and yet whenever he made an attempt, something stopped him.

Why couldn’t he just let everything go? Why couldn’t he live anymore? Sonny felt as if he was standing on the edge of a cliff, about to topple over the edge, about to leave everything and everyone he held near and dear to his heart. Sitting there on the porch, he shivered a bit in the early spring air, unsure what felt worse, the sting of your hand across his face or the words you last spoke to him.

@glimmerglittergirl @southern-magnolia @sweetcannolicarisi @delia26 @obfuscateyummy @sass-and-suspenders @eclecticminded @thatesqcrush @katmstanton @amirightcounsellor @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone @scarlettsoldier​ @youreverycolor​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @imagine-all-the-imagines @imjustreallynosy​ @graniairish​ @ashley-chi​ @lolacolaempath @cocomel0613  @mysterioustrashadventures @that-girl-named-alex​ @scapricciatello @mrsrafaelbarba @zizzlekwum @katierpblogg

#rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba fan fiction #barba #barba imagine #barba fanfic #barba x reader #sonny carisi #law and order svu fic #law and order svu imagine #taking chances

[missinghan]

night changes (2) ⤖ bang chan

❖ genre : rich kid!au

❖ word count : 21k.

❖ warning : explicit language & mentions of alcohol

❖ summary : fate decides to backfire when you try to pull the son of the Senator in as a barrier between your life and Bang Chan.

❖ a/n : read pt.1 beforehand to understand the story better, I’m too tired to proofread this after the nth time, please don’t @ me.

one. The only reason why your mom persuaded Jeongin to move after when you moved in with your dad was college being practically thirty minutes away from the place. And also because of the rent. You feel bad for your brother mainly since the walls there are awfully thin and the girl next door always seems to have someone over every other night. They aren’t exactly trying to be subtle either. Sometimes you wonder how the fuck can he study for finals when the noise pollution can’t get any worse but he still manages to hit straight A-s.

On the other hand, you and Felix never have to worry about things such as students’ loans or college tuition. Every single penny was paid, as well as every other necessity in life. But you feel like nothing but a filler or a mannequin whenever you dad demands for intimate parties where you’re forced to sit still and look pretty when he’s too busy talking business with the other families. You’re just simply there, in his circle of status. Even when you’re all dressed up in designers’ clothes and whatnots, you still feel so out of place, sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Felix rolls his eyes dramatically when you pull up right in front of a rather ugly tree, scowling hard. “And you’re seriously taking your Rover today? Where did all of your standards go?” He glances sideways and sees a black Mercedes right in front of your car but shrugs it off shortly after.

“Hey! You take that back! She’s my baby! And also, it’s not gonna freak Jeongin out as much as your Tesla would,” you chuckle and punch his arm, earning a wholehearted laugh in return. Despite being born in a well off family, your stepbrother isn’t as much of an asshole as you’re expecting him to be. He’s pretty down to earth and acts like every other college kid that you’ve met with a questionable obsession with Fortnite. Except he loves to shove all the logos of luxurious brands into people’s faces who keep pissing him off, making him that much more intimidating.

“Wait here or stay there, pick your poison,” you tell him before grabbing your key and exit the car.

Felix mumbles something along the lines of ‘don’t be so rude’ and trails after you. He flutters his eyes upwards to take a closer look at the apartment complex before him. It’s quite small but seems very cozy. He wonders if it does feel less isolating and cold when there isn’t so much extra space around him all the time. “Hurry up, Lix! Jeongin gotta run to class in three hours.” With that, he hastily follows you up a narrow, rusty flight of stairs, the place reeks off the smell his dad always despises. He calls it ‘the subway smell’.

When your hand is hovering over the wooden door, it suddenly swings open, revealing an impossibly handsome guy. Chestnut brown hair, midnight orbs, tall nose, and peachy lips. He has you completely frozen for a good five seconds before you snap out of it, raising an eyebrow. Since when did Jeongin have hot guys as his roommates? And since when did your mom even allow him to have roommates? “Uhm sorry, you are..?”

The stranger smiles, perfectly showcasing his white. That’s your weak spot too. You’re a complete sucker for guys with cute smiles. “I’m Jaemin, and uh, my friend asked me to come over and help him with an upcoming exam.” You subconsciously stare at his outfits for a while, seeing no signs of any designers’ pieces. But his posture screams mad confidence, straight back, always maintaining eye contact, like he’s been raised in a wealthy family just like Felix. You can’t help but automatically judge people for what they wear, it’s been drilled into your mindset at some point and you hate yourself for that.

“Hello? Are you okay?” He waves his hand when you stay unresponsive. He partially thinks that you’re mentally judging him for acting like a weirdo.

You laugh nervously, completely oblivious of how Felix is facepalming himself behind your back. “Yeah, sorry about that. I’m here to look for my brother.”

“Brother who?” Jaemin narrows his eyes at you skeptically.

“Yang Jeongin? Ring any bell?”

“What? Jeongin never told me he had a sis—“ his gasp is cut off midway when a hand flies to his mouth out of nowhere and pulls him backward. Your brother pokes his head out from behind Jaemin and smiles sheepishly. You can’t help but notice how different his smile is. Oh…where are his braces?

Jeongin says flatly, “Hey, sis, long time no see.” Then he scratches the nape of his neck, unsure of what to say. “Uhm, so what are you doing here?” It’s really been a while since you last saw him. Your dad can’t really do anything because your mom had full custody of raising him and he wanted to stay with her either way. He said he wouldn’t feel like he belongs if he dares to take a single footstep into his billion dollars mansion. Sometimes it feels like you’re just two strangers with the same blood coursing through your veins, family in name, but not in fact. But to be fair, you don’t even have the same last name as him.

“Where’s mom?” You avoid his question before stepping into the studio apartment completely. The last time you were here was when you’re still a freshman in college, you believe. And now all you can do is stand there in awe.

There was nothing but cardboard boxes scattered everywhere, dirty dishes piling up day by day, chipping wallpapers and a crusty old couch that the previous owner left behind as a result of your heartbroken mom. It used to make you grimace but holy shit, mom really did pull herself together. The place is freshly renovated, the smell of new paint is still evident, a teal couch, wooden cabinets, clean kitchen, bathroom on the left along with a brand new TV. Although it’s not the newest model of any sort, you can see how far your mom has come. She worked hard for your brother, and it’s definitely paying off.

Jeongin whispers something into Jaemin’s ears and pushes him out the front door, leaving a very shocked-looking Felix as a witness. “She’s at work,” he states the obvious monotonously.

“Oh,” you chuckle to yourself and let your fingers dance along the kitchen aisle. “Silly me. Anyway, when did you have your braces off? Last week?”

“It’s been a lot longer than that, Y/N. The last time you saw me was Woojin’s wedding.” He massages the side of his temple, sighing heavily. And your heart sinks, a pang of guilt always seems to be inevitable whenever you come over to visit him. Even when it’s only once or twice a year, you could never move on with life without knowing how he’s doing. You tried. “What are you doing here?”

You cut to the chase, “Dad wants you to come and join his party at the hotel this weekend. Nothing major, just another event as an excuse for him to make more money. And also he said he wanted to see you.”

“As if he needs any more money,” your brother sneers. “And he wanted to see me? Don’t be ridiculous. The old man probably wants me there to humiliate the shit out of me so that I’ll stay away from him and his precious jewels.” You perk a brow at what he’s referring you and Felix to, “I’m not gonna be there and smile through the whole thing. I don’t even own a tuxedo for fuck’s sake! Those people aren’t just rich, they’re crazy rich. They’re snoshy, and loud, and act all elegant with thousands of dollars draped over their bodies—“

Felix makes a face, “Snoshy?”

“Posh and snobby.”

“Are you coming for my accent?”

“I dare not.”

He laughs and swings an arm around Jeongin’s shoulders. “Good move, kid. Now get in the car, loser, we’re going shopping.”

The younger boy scrunches his nose in disgust, shoving your stepbrother away. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Don’t make me put you in timeout.”

two. Jeongin feels like he’s sitting on a pile of burning coal instead of the espresso-colored velvet couch in the middle of a Tom Ford store. Soft white light slipping through the ceiling, walls embedded with mirrors all around and closets that are probably made with the finest kinds of wood. Even the fake pot of flowers on the glass coffee table in front of him looks more expensive than everything he owns combined. While he’s receiving dirty looks from some of the staff, Felix on the other hand, is too busy skimming through the watches and ties displayed inside the see-through cabinets.

Being humiliated just because he doesn’t dress like ‘your people’ makes him wanna bust through the door and stay at home for three consecutive days. People already disrespected him in a clothing store, what will happen if he attends that stupid intimate party? He’s not gonna fit into the social circle just because he’s wearing some designers’ pieces because that’s not who he is.

“Wrap those up for me,” you voice, face stoic of any emotions.

A staff at the checkout nervously laces her fingers together, a bead of sweat unknowingly rolls down on her temple. “Miss Lee! Having you buy our newest collection is more than we can ever afford, I’ll make sure to contact our superior to let you—“

“To let me fire you?” You cut her off, voice soft and stern at the same time. “Oh please, don’t bother,” the staff almost jumps back when you place one of your hands on hers, your rings cold against her burning skin as shivers run down her spine. “Minho will take good care of you, I guarantee.”

Jeongin groans in pure frustration when you wave at him, smiling in your luxurious glory when he’s sitting inside a high-end store like an absolute idiot. “Tom Ford? What is wrong with you people?” Felix glares at him and he immediately puts his hands up in defense. “Right, sorry. But would you mind and just strangle me right here right now so that I won’t make a grave mistake by putting that on? Can’t I just wear the tux that I had on Woojin’s wedding?” You bringing Felix along had already suffocated him enough when he literally lives and breathes in Gucci. Jeongin is not a fan of the tiger on his bomber jacket either.

“Eh..it’s a little dated, wouldn’t hurt to buy a new one. And did you really think that your sister’s gonna let you pay by yourself? How innocent,” Felix puts an arm over his shoulders when he refers to the brand new suit jacket, dress shirt and slacks on the marble counter. All that for more than ten thousand dollars, so… he’s gonna need more than ten years to pay you back. “Also, did you know that your sister is scary when someone pisses her off?” He whispers under his breath, slightly scared that you’re gonna catch his words.

“You’re wasting my time,” you hand your credit card over to the other staff, in which he receives with shaking hands. “Get yourself clean up and pack your bags, I’m sure a professional like you would have no problem landing another job like this.”

Jeongin almost gawks at how you’re giving ten thousand dollars away like you’re simply buying a burger at McDonald’s. He even feels bad for the staff who’s on the verge of breaking down, tears brimming in the corners of her eyes. She did treat him like he was trying to rob the place but having her fired is far too harsh. Now he knows why he should never be on your bad side. “I think I do now.” He swallows thickly with two hands on his knees, the muscles on his back tense.

“Ma’am, I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, we—“

You smile coldly, “That’s enough, I believe you all can reconsider your own behaviors towards customers. All of your customers.”

“Yep,” Felix catches the jet black Tom Ford bag when you walk past the couch, seemingly busy talking on the phone with Minho. “Iced cold motherfucker.”

Then, an unfamiliar figure enters the store the moment you walk out the door. Felix and Jeongin also pass by her without a second look even when they both accidentally catch some parts of her conversation with the staff. Fuzzily. So he doesn’t bother to think too much about it. “Good afternoon, ma’am, how can we help you?”

“I’m here to pick up a tuxedo for my boyfriend,” the girl takes off her sunglasses and grins, a smile that can take the breath right out of anyone.

The staff returns her smile and taps away on the iPad while the others are escorting the crying woman into the bathroom. “May we have the name please?”

Felix tosses the bag into the car trunk as soon as you start the engine, hurrying to the backseats after. Jeongin has his arms crossed in front of his chest in the passenger’s seat, no words can describe how frustrated, and mad, and partially relieved he feels right now all at once. All will be revealed in the next episode of how his sister fucks up every relationship he’s ever made, stay tuned folks!

“I was having a migraine just by seeing you handing out one of your five other credit cards. And firing her too? Aren’t you being too harsh? Couldn’t you spare her any sense of kindness at least?”

You laugh monotonously, “There are way worse things that could have happened to her. Trust me, you don’t wanna know what ‘my people’ can do.” This isn’t the first time you’ve seen some self excessively conceited staff who judges people by their social background. And now they had the audacity to insult your brother? Being fired is the only sense of kindness that you can give them for today.

“Great, now I’m gonna have to pay the old man back.”

You carefully take a turn and almost snort at your brother’s pointless concern. “That was my money, in my own defense. I don’t live off dad’s pennies anymore.” Even if it was your dad’s money, he would never make his biological son pay for what he can’t even afford. That’s like…asking a vegetarian why they want to bring down the mood of a BBQ party.

Jeongin replies flatly, looking out the window in boredom. “Huh, funny. Last time I checked, you said you were working at his hotel. Who’s the big boss there? Where does all the money come from? Him. Same thing.”

“Are you familiar with the triggers of migraines?” Felix abruptly places a hand on Jeongin’s shoulders, almost giving him a heart attack.

Jeongin doesn’t know much about migraines but he does know that your stepbrother is high-key a weirdo who just happens to be born with a butt load of money. “Uh…no?” If he happens to live in the same home with this idiot, he’s gonna go insane in a minimum of twenty-four hours. No doubt.

Felix excitedly laces his hand together and you mentally facepalm yourself. You’re so over his discussion about stuff like this because you know damn well he’s just trying to take it out on people after being stuck in med school for two years. He’s convinced that he’s gonna kill people instead of curing them so his mom gave him the consent to drop out to prolong the family’s legacy. “Here are some of them so that you know what not to do; from most likely to least likely: emotional stress, hormone, not eating, the fucking weather, sleep disturbances, certain odors, neck pain, alcohol, bright lights, smoke, certain foods, exercise, sexual activities, etc.”

“Sexual activities? Like a hangover after getting laid?” Jeongin asks.

“No, like just sex itself but it’s not supposed to happen that often so don’t worry too much about that.”

You automatically grit, feeling the need to bleach your ears after this. “Do not encourage him.”

“Hey! This is for educational purposes! Besides, it’s not like he’s still a little boy or whatever, he’s an adult now. #LifeCoachingWithLeeYongbok.” Felix takes no time to defend himself. “Now, I wish I could lecture you about the hypothalamus and give you a long-winded explanation of the science behind it, but Imma spare you for today.” Even if it were possible for you to sew his lips together, there’s no doubt that those unnecessarily inappropriate words would still find their ways to crawl out of his mouth and potentially mess up your little brother’s entire existence.

You let out a humorless chuckle, one that yells ‘hey, stop before you fucked it up for the rest of us’. “I’d hate to poke your enormous ego, but whoever attends your classes is gonna have their life crumbling right in front of their eyes.”

Felix simpers at your attempt of a clapback. “Actually no, people who attend my classes drastically turn their life around because they know what not to do. If you think about it, all of my advice to you has been great. I just don’t practice what I preach,” he tuts in that deepass voice of his, not noticing how Jeongin’s face is morphing into a very disgusted expression. “Just one more shot, I’ll be fine. I can quit whenever I want. I’m not addicted,” he mocks one of his friends who can’t stop drinking for their own good. “No, you won’t you lying bitch. An example of someone who followed that sentiment is right in front of you.”

He fairly believes that he can become the youngest professor to be teaching at a college or university with a Ph.D. in the ‘Getting your shit together’ Department.

But in your eyes, these are just some of the side effects that he got from hanging out with Minho so much. Being bitchy and all. If anything, Minho should be the one who takes his spot and becomes the youngest staff for big places like Harvard or Oxford. And you’d love to continue this nonsense of an argument but you’re already pissed off by that staff previously so you should just let him win or your dad’s gonna find you three ending up in the E.R.

“So this is what I get for setting you up with Chan,” Jeongin crosses his arms and you glance at him sideways, staying silent for the rest of the drive home.

three. Chan dreads the packing process after a long tremendously because not only does he have to trust his idiotic friends to not damage his luggage, he also has to help them pack since they are literal children. Changbin’s butler straight up shakes his head when Chan FaceTimed him, asking about how he usually helps him with preparation for a trip. He really hopes his family pays the man good money because dealing with Changbin’s impulsive, indecisive ass sounds extremely exhausting, and burdensome as well.

“Which one?” Changbin refers to a dozen of black tuxedos hanging inside the dressing room, and Chan feels like his brain’s about to retire.

He exclaims in frustration, “THEY’RE ALL BLACK FOR FUCK’S SAKE!”

“No you uneducated moron,” Changbin purses his lips, “There’s carbon black, raisin black, olive black, super black, coal-black,..which one’s sexy enough for me to snatch myself a date at the party?”

“Seo Changbin!”

Chan’s been so sensitive these days, to the point that he decided to whack a mosquito with his MacBook the other day. He did miss the mosquito, but also, he almost killed Jisung who’s taking a nap right beside him in the studio. And apparently, Han Jisung holds grudges. Hence, there’s no way in hell is he gonna help Chan in the ‘Getting Seo Changbin aka the snobby brat the perfect tuxedo’ Operation. It would be way easier if Jisung was here.

Changbin interjects his trains of thoughts, “Silk or wool?”

“Uh- silk.”

“The Gabardine one or the smoking jacket?”

Chan makes a face, “Smoking jacket?” Whatever that means. He didn’t like the shoulder pads on the other one anyway.

“You heard him, Park, go get that ish and wrap it up! Go go go!” Changbin pauses for a second, “Wait, no, actually…just take them both.”

Call him delusional, but in the span of ten seconds, Chan fully believes he’s already entered (or has been pushed into) the Panamera 4 E-Hybrid that’s waiting outside of the mall. Jisung’s sitting in the passenger’s seat, honking the car repeatedly while the Seo family’s chauffeur is constantly throwing daggers at him with his eyes. Now he’s starting to question if bringing Jisung to the mall would be the wisest decision.

“What’s with the grumpy face, grandpa?” He chimes unhelpfully with a pout on his face. And now all Chan wants to do is to deck his perfect teeth and knock upside his head. “You really need to lighten up, old man, you’re going home!” He groans dramatically, arms crossed like a three-year-old.

“Yeah, going home,” Chan says with expressive hands. “To put on a goddamn show for my grandparents so that they won’t have a heart attack knowing that I can’t give two fucks about their promise with some random family in the same circle.” He’s on the verge of breaking down just thinking about going hand in hand in public with another woman that’s not you. It makes him sick to the stomach more knowing that he’s been hiding everything from you.

He’s such an asshole for doing this to you. Avoiding your calls and texts every other day becomes almost all too unbearable for his shoulders. Instead, he’s been trying to leave you voicemails every other week but it seems like you’ve already despised him. The night of Woojin’s wedding comes crashing down on him as he takes a stroll down memory lane. He might as well be cursed because there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to have you in his arms again. The saying: “out of sight, out of mind” works for some people as an excuse to forget someone but truth is, he still misses you, all the time, every second, every minute, every hour, every day.

“So you didn’t tell her?” Changbin perks a dark brow.

“Not yet…”

“You should though,”

Chan barks, “I know! She just won’t answer my voicemails,”

“Then call her you coward!” Changbin immediately barks back, fingers still tapping away on his phone, “Look, if Y/N was your date in the first place, you would be crazy giddy and all right now, and not the nervous kind of giddy, but like the exciting kind of giddy. You are so loopy in love with her it makes me wanna feed my eyeballs to my dad’s German Shepherd whenever you’re FaceTiming her,”

Chan’s been clenching his jaw for God knows how long, and now it’s starting to ache. “Don’t say that, she probably hates me. Like you said, I’m a coward. I don’t deserve her and she doesn’t deserve this. Falling for Y/N was probably the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. All I’ve been doing is tearing us apart. Sometimes I wish I didn’t fall for her—“

“—listen up, you genius. If falling for Y/N is a sin then so be it. Because being in love with her is gonna be the best fucking mistake you’ve ever made in your twenty-three years of existing,” Changbin’s words start zeroing in on Chan, so when he opens his mouth to say something, it automatically snaps closed. “I’ve never seen your eyes do that thing where they sparkle whenever we mention her name or when you’re just simply giggling to yourself while texting her. And have you seen the way that she looks at you? She looks at you like you’re the only person to exist on this planet, like someone she’s ever truly loved more than herself.”

Chan drops his gaze from Changbin to his knees, his heart beating rapidly at the sound of your name. Goddamn, he really misses you. “It’s okay, Bin, even if she hates me. I can—“

Changbin interjects immediately, gripping onto his friend’s shoulders tightly and stares into his tired eyes. “Don’t fucking tell me that it’s okay because I saw you alone in the studio every night. You were crying like a baby!” Seo Changbin gives really good advice because pushing people to their limits, not crossing them, just dangling at the edge so that they can’t stop acting like a loser and get their shit together is what he does for a living. Without getting paid a single penny.

“It’s because I’m losing her! I did that to myself!” Chan shudders at his own words, shaking his head profusely to hold back his tears. The idea of losing you sounds so terrifyingly panic-stricken that he would rather lose anything else than not have you in his life, or just not having you at all in the first place. Chan was an idiot for kissing you that night but something deep down still tells him that “screw life, you said what you said and you did what you did, now go out there and get her back before she falls into someone else’s arms”.

Changbin corrects him, pinpointing his words. “You’re losing her, you didn’t lose her yet. You still have an opportunity to make it up to her.” He knows Chan long enough to know that his friend doesn’t easily wear his feelings on his sleeves, mainly because he’s the eldest in 3RACHA. If he falls, the group’s gonna fall with him. But today, seeing the pool of tears in his eyes, the raw emotions in his voice makes Changbin believe that he’s senselessly, wildly in love with you. He knows damn well that Chan would never let you slip away again.

“This is your chance, to prove to Y/N that you’re still the goofy, caring, dumbass Bang Chan that she has already fallen in love with, not only once, but twice.”

four. “Have you been hearing anything from Chan? He hasn’t called me for two months. Changbin and Jisung have been avoiding me like the plague too.” Woojin asks you with a questionable looking drink in his hand. Minho said he mixed the masterpiece with all of his blood, sweat, and tears. You don’t know how to take it, metaphorically, or literally because both options would make sense. You’re just fairly concerned for Woojin’s liver since he’s been attending too many parties, mainly for business but still, that doesn’t mean he’s not gonna stay away from alcohol.

So much for adulting.

“Not really,” you didn’t want to admit that Chan was ignoring your texts and calls before but it’s quite obvious now that he doesn’t want to talk to you. You didn’t think about it much at the beginning because everything must have been so hard for him in a foreign country where young talents are out there competing with each other like they’re in The Hunger Games. But daily conversations turned into weekly, and then monthly and then basically non-existent. No more ‘Good morning’, no more ‘How was your day?’, no more ‘I miss you’. None of that.

The kiss that day seems like it’s disintegrated into literal dust.

‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’ sounds like utter bullshit now and you’ve never felt so foolish for saying ‘I love you’ to someone you truly believe won’t take your heart and crush it. But Chan did just that. You spent lots of sleepless nights thinking, and bawling your eyes out. You felt so lost and tremendously hurt. You didn’t know what to do. But you soon figured that it’s okay, people aren’t supposed to know what to do in those kinds of situations. You just gotta figure it out by yourself. So wherever he may be, whatever he’s doing, you still hope that he’s happy. That’s all that matters.

Or maybe you’re just too tired to reach out to him again.

You reply with a lifeless smile, bracing yourself for the upcoming party that’s starting in less than an hour. “He hardly talks to me. He doesn’t even text me in full sentences anymore.” You shrug it off casually, ignoring the sound of your heart aching to focus on other stuff for the time being. “Maybe he’s just busy? You know how problematic the music industry is.”

“Being busy isn’t an excuse to ignore your loved ones, Y/N,” Woojin knits his brows together. “Mind you, I still come home to my wife at nine o’clock, every single day.”

You check the time and almost panic, but before you can form a proper sentence, someone’s already dragged you away from the scene, “Look after Jeongin for me! Got it?” You yell back at him only to receive a thumbs up with a grimace. Woojin is the CEO of a well-known IT firm, after all, no one’s gonna mess with Jeongin if he stays by his side. The last thing you want is your brother coming home sobbing his heart out just because some wonderbread doesn’t know when to keep their mouth shut.

“I’m like..” You trail off while tapping away on your phone. “—pretty much free tomorrow morning, right?”

Chaeyoung - your assistant frowns and stops you midway, smoothing out your baby hair. “Not quite, you can’t skip DBR at seven,” she asserts. “And the daily phone call with your dad- I mean, the CEO at half-past six as well.” It’s obvious that everyone wants a coffee in the morning and since it’s a common time to gather, it seems like DBR (or Daily Business Review) is a good idea to just have a meeting before the day starts. The rules are simple. The meeting can not last more than half an hour and to make sure, you all stand up. You talk about the night before, VIPs coming in, the forecast for the coming day and any common issues to the group. Then you all dismiss and go to work. This way, everyone is on the same page 24/7.

“Oh, and a meeting at three too, and also the Kims Are coming in fifteen minutes.” She checks her watch subconsciously and it reads [7:30p.m.]

“Right, right,” you close your eyes for a moment and let the information sink in, slightly taken aback by yourself that you forgot Jennie’s coming back from New Zealand. The party won’t start until eight, you can still spare fifteen minutes and chat with your friend before being pulled away into utterly unnecessary conversations. “I can’t believe I almost forgot Jen’s visiting us…” You murmur under your breath, “God, Chaeng, what would I do without you?”

Chaeyoung pushes your shoulder playfully, “You’d die, obviously.” She’s not necessarily wrong because if it weren’t for her to manage your shitty schedule, your life would become a fucking merry-go-round which makes you all nauseous and dizzy. As if you’re not being tossed around and fucked up enough.

“Hypothetically speaking, I can just hire another assistant and move on with my life,” you smile cheekily.

She follows you towards the front desk, where Lisa is too busy texting someone cute to focus on her main task: greeting people that she despises with her entire existence. “Well, hypothetically speaking, no one can replace me and you would never have the heart to do that anyway.” Again, you hate it when she’s right. And she’s always right. Because she’s Park Chaeyoung.

You put your phone away finally and ask her about your beige suit with matching high-waisted slacks. “How do I look?” Also, you’re never wearing heels again because you’ve learned not to torment your precious feet when you’re gonna be out and about, being dragged around like a rag doll. Woojin’s wedding taught you that.

Chaeyoung gives you the warmest smile, “Like a boss bitch,”

“You have to come with us to Bora Bora this summer! We just opened a summer resort there with a beach and spa services, it’s absolutely delightful! Very fitting for de-stressing, dare I say.”

“How convenient! Do you see these wrinkles? We were all exhausted after the flight from New York. And I’m stressing over how it’s impossible for my son to improve his English. How in the world is he gonna travel the world for business trips now?”

“Ew,” you automatically scrunch your nose at your stepmom’s conversation with the Senator’s wife. “If we’re gonna act like that when we’re their age, I’d rather jump off a cliff.” And Chaeyoung clears her throat awkwardly when she sees your mom waving you over, giving you a pat on your back. There goes your fifteen minutes of freedom.

You quickly fix the lapels of your blazer and muster a sickly sweet smile, just for the Senator’s wife. “Yes, mom?” Or in this case, ‘stepmom’ but you wouldn’t want it to be awkward for the both of them. She does treat you with nothing but kindness and generosity although you’re not her actual daughter.

“Honey,” you almost snort at the nickname. Honey is practically a bee’s vomit. So you don’t really see the point in calling people bee’s barf. Ain’t cool. “You must know that this is the Senator’s wife, she suggested that you and their son can perhaps—“

You cut her off sharply. “No,”

“Y/N, don’t be so rude,” she laughs nervously as the Senator’s wife wears an unreadable look on her face. As if she’s interested in your particular kind of demeanor like you’re a completely different species. She doesn’t seem to be mad or offended at all. “I’m sorry, you see, this girl can play hard to get from time to time…and—“

You elect to ignore every word that comes out of her mouth from this very moment. Not again with this bullshit. An arranged marriage is basically a living embodiment of your biggest nightmare. You can’t imagine being tied down to a person that you barely know just because of their social status or for the sake of mutual benefits. Not to mention, every guy in the circle is all the same anyway. Disrespectful, egotistical, and only show mild interest if the person they’re marrying at least has something to offer that’s related to cold, hard cash in the long run.

It feels like the world just stops spinning when you flutter your eyes upwards and make direct eye contact with him. He enters the front entrance in a full-on black tuxedo, black silk shirt tucked neatly into his pants, chestnut hair rather well-styled, and black dress shoes. The outfit looks like it was made for him, personally tailored to every detail of his body. You almost scowl and look away until you recognize that smile, those midnight orbs.

To your dismay, the Senator’s wife exclaims, “My goodness! I told him not to wear that specific shirt!” before excusing herself from the conversation.

“Uhm is that…”

“Oh yes! That’s their son, Jaemin. Felix used to go to the same kindergarten as him, I believe,” your stepmom explains calmly, watching how you’re slowly becoming interested in the Senator’s only son. So that explains the black Mercedes in front of Jeongin’s apartment. “He got sent to a private school in the UK after graduating from middle school but somehow, I don’t know how he still can’t speak fluently English. Maybe you can help—“

You quickly realize how fast the situation’s escalating and you must say, you’re not letting that happen. “Sorry mom, Jen’s here! I gotta go!” Learning to let Chan go is one thing, but getting yourself into an arranged marriage with another guy who cares about nothing but money is an absolutely torturous idea.

People change, they all do eventually. But sometimes they don’t. Certain things can never fluctuate despite the circumstances. For instance, Kim Jennie still pulls you into a bone-crushing hug like she always does the moment she spots you in the crowd. Her gummy smile didn’t change, her gestures, the way she walks with pride didn’t change and you highly doubt that she no longer sneaks cute boys into the house when her parents are conveniently abroad. But she definitely looks more mature the last time that you guys met in Paris.

“Wow, Jen,” you utter. “You look…good,” Tonight she’s wearing a white dress from Chanel, diamond earrings and bold red lipstick. And don’t even get you started on her ring, you’re pretty sure that it was a present from the brand themselves. She is the ambassador, after all, they would be more than happy to spoil her with their newest collections.

Jennie takes a look at your outfit, twirling you around before breaking into a fit of giggles. “Good? I look good? You look gorgeous! Look at you! Well, actually you look just fine in your PJs as well. Heck, you can even breathe in this thing, I can’t relate,” she beams and keeps on admiring you as if you’re her own life-sized Barbie doll. Baggy clothes can look good, she knows that now.

Jennie clings onto one of your arms and receives a glass of champagne from a waiter, smiling at him softly. “So, how are you enjoying the party, manager Lee?”

You threaten to spill alcohol on her fifteen thousand dollars dress but only proceed to roll your eyes because you value her money too much for the sake of being petty. “It’s kinda meh,” you make a face. “But you know, let’s just get it over with. And to be honest..I’m kind of sick of socializing with people that I don’t even like.”

“Oh really?” Jennie raises a brow curiously when she sees a certain someone in the midst of the chaotic party. “Someone seems to be interested in you though, that cutie over there…” She then motions towards the general direction of Na Jaemin, the person who you’ve been trying to avoid all night. “I think he fancies you. Been eyeing you up and down for the past ten minutes,”

Right, you also forgot that Jennie didn’t know about you and Chan.

“Actually—“

“My God! Did you see that? The Bangs are here!” She gasps and tries to tiptoe in order to get a closer look, allowing her heels to dig into her feet even more. You won’t blame her, the Bangs are basically the biggest developers in Korea. Real estate, investment, tons of things, tons of boring paperwork but you do respect them for what they do. “I heard their eldest son’s dating some up and coming artist, her exhibitions were quite successful, all big hits since last year. It’s mind-blowing!”

You pull your friend back in time when people are shoving each other before her white dress can be contaminated with the bubbly champagne. “Is this the part where I’m supposed to patch your lips together?”

“Damn, he looks fine,” your friend murmurs and has you roll your eyes for one too many times tonight already. “I’m not messing with you, look!” She grabs either side of your face and turns it sideways, towards the front entrance.

You feel like someone just kicked you to the curb and stepped on you, knocking the breath right out of your chest. It’s Chan, it’s really Chan. Navy tuxedo, brown hair styled neatly, he looks even more beautiful than the last time you’ve seen his face. Beside him, hand in hand is another girl. She has the most delicate features and probably the most angelic smile in this world. She’s looking at him all lovingly, the same look you gave him approximately a year ago when you thought that the kiss did mean something to him. Apparently, it didn’t. Now you feel like a paper bag being thrown away, forgotten in the corner, drifting through life like a haze.

Your heart is stuck in your throat, slowly crumbling into dust when you see how he smiles at her, the dimpled smile that you treasured with your entire heart. They look like they are meant to be. And yes, you wanted to see him again but not like this. It’s like karma’s trying to tell you that this is what you get for falling in love with Chan faster than a tick of a clock, for foolishly holding onto false hope. And your butt load of money doesn’t matter anymore because your everything is already being held in someone else’s arms.

Now you’re the one who’s left with a broken heart.

five. In the dead of the night, you no longer feel the sounds of your heart shattering into pieces. Chan’s just making it easier for you to forget him.

“Y/N?” You stay unresponsive at his voice calling out to you. Every cell, every muscle, every neuro inside your body is yelling at you to turn around and throw your arms around his neck. The willpower that you’re mustering to not do that right is impossibly terrifying. But you’re not giving in again, not this time. You won’t be able to piece your heart back together after a second heartbreak. “It’s been quite a while huh? Are you—“

You turn around with glossy eyes, tears threatening to spill any second. Chan’s words get caught dead in his throat upon seeing you on the verge of breaking down. It hurts more knowing that he’s the one who made you cry. “You should have told me..” Your voice cracks and it breaks Chan’s heart into a million pieces at how broken you are. “You should have told me if you wanted to cut it off sooner..” You smile bitterly with tears rolling down on either side of your cheek. You no longer care about how pathetic you may sound or look, you just want to be completely transparent with him.

Another thing that you hate about yourself: how you just let yourself go exposed and vulnerable right in front of his eyes. “What happened to ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’? Does our kiss that night mean nothing to you? Was I setting the bar too high? Was I…getting in your way?” You ask him between quiet sobs, not bothering to put on a fake smile anymore. You’re too exhausted for that anyway. “You didn’t even tell me..that you’re part of the Bangs family, like the Bangs family. What else are you hiding from me, Chan?”

Chan grabs you by the shoulders to hold you back firmly, eyes boarding into yours fiercely. His touch once made your heart weak, now you feel nothing but disgust when his fingertips graze past your clothed skin. “Y/N, listen to me. You don’t understand— she’s not—“

“Y/N!”

Chan snaps his head towards the owner of the voice and grimaces when he sees Jaemin waving at you from the other side of the room. You gotta be shitting me. Chan then looks over at you in disbelief, eyes almost popping out of their respective sockets. Out of all people, you’re dating Na Jaemin? The Senator’s son? Without letting him know? And you’re accusing him of hiding things from you when you’re also with someone new already? “You know,” you wipe your tears away and look him dead in the eye. “I’ve always thought that all the guys in my dad’s social circle were a bunch of ignorant jerks, but it turns out you’re the asshole.”

With that, you briskly walk away with your phone clutched in your hands, knuckles turning white as you bite down your tears. Chan’s gaze trails after your figure until you’re completely gone, falling into another man’s arms like it’s your safe place. Jaemin caresses your cheekbone and smiles at you. You return it too, bitterly. It was supposed to be Chan who makes you feel like the happiest woman in this world, not the one who takes your heart and crushes it into pieces. His heart breaks, again, and again, and again, and again until he no longer feels its presence beating inside his rib cage. There’s something else more than just distance between the both of you now, something that was never there in the first place. Little did you know, you’re not the only one with a broken heart after all.

“Jaemin right?” You sniffle when he lures you away from the party, away from the chaos, away from Chan. “Thank you, I can manage myself now.”

Jaemin shakes his head and speaks to you softly. “Nonsense. I’m staying here with you. The party sucks, but don’t take it personally.”

You chuckle with teary eyes, but you’ve determined not to cry again tonight, especially not in front of the Senator’s son. “Does my brother know that his tutor is the son of the Senator?” Jaemin shakes his head again, the warm smile never once leaves his lips. He gently wipes a single tear that unknowingly rolls down on your cheek and heat flares through your nostrils, a shade of coral scattered across your face. This is why you never cry in front of a stranger.

“There, there you crybaby,” he comforts you with a hand on your shoulder, the other pulling out a handkerchief to dab your tears away. “Who knows the manager of the Carpe Diem Hotel is such a softie. I heard from the staff that you’re fucking scary when someone gets on your bad side.”

“Then don’t get on my bad side,” you roll your eyes in annoyance. “But God, I really can’t blame them. Our people are so posh, and snobby—“

“We’re basically snoshy,” he finishes your sentence and laughs. “Your brother tells me that all the time, if only he knew about my family. He’s most likely gonna murder me in my sleep.”

You roll your eyes, pushing his hand away slightly. “This is why we’ll never get a happy ending of our own. What’s the point of owning all the dollar bills when we’re just sad motherfuckers? And people wonder why we all prefer one night stands. I fucking beg to differ. Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed him that night. Maybe I was nothing but an instant filler for his non-existent love life. ‘Do you still want my phone number?’ He didn’t even bother texting me anymore! Bullshit!”

Jaemin doesn’t know you very well but by the looks of it, you’re definitely not the type to lash out on someone very often. You must have been furious with that Chan guy because whatever he’s done to you, shit must have stung. Because you still look at him with those eyes. Eyes of those who are madly in love. He can’t change that.

“Y/N,” he pulls you into a hug and rubs little circles on your back as an attempt to soothe your aching heart. “Listen, it’s okay if he’s not the one. He might be the wrong person at the right time for all I know. And your soulmate is probably taking their sweet ass time because they are completely oblivious about your existence. But they will be there for you, they will, I promise. You know damn well how life likes to toss us around right? Love is patient, love is kind. And it will come one day.”

You snicker and hug him back, grateful for how he’s already consoling you although you’ve only met twice. Maybe he isn’t like the other boys in the same circle, maybe he’s different even when he dresses the same and looks the same. “Cliché sayings are cliché for a reason, Jaemin,” you laugh before pulling away, staring into his starry eyes.

“I know I know,” he squishes your cheeks together and chuckles. “But hey, sometimes they’re not wrong either. Tell you what though, I was so close to decking that guy in the face back there but I didn’t want to go all Alpha Apeshit and appeared as a douchebag then get blood on his goddamn Tom Ford. Just throwing that out there in case it does help you feel better.”

You can feel your tear-stained cheeks cool against the night breeze. The balcony seems to be the only place that you can seek calmness in, mainly because there’s no alcohol and no one to push you from one boring conversation to another with the same topics. Your people are basically repeating themselves over and over again about money and arranged marriages which you’re not very interested in so yes, you don’t see the purpose of throwing parties that only consist of the top 1%. You lean your back against the railings and watch the party from afar, letting the background chatters sink in. Soon this whole place will be within your grasp along with many others, but you’re afraid that you’ll be lost in your own empire.

“No offense,” you turn back to him and smile. “I didn’t think you’d be able to throw a punch at all.”

Jaemin makes a face, “I’m not like those wonderbreads over there,” then smirks devilishly. “But I’ll never be one’s knight in shining armor. Life just teaches me things that our people don’t. For example, living in a mansion won’t teach you how to throw or take a proper punch. Also, wear black because you’ll never know whose blood is gonna be on there.”

“So you’re saying that being sent to boarding school is the best thing that’s ever happened in your life?”

“Not quite,” he winks. “The best thing that’s ever happened in my life is to have the pleasure of meeting you.”

You shove his chest and laugh wholeheartedly, it feels nice to talk to someone like this. “Don’t flirt with me and find yourself another trophy out there, I’m too bitchy to fit in with those chicks.” You jerk your head towards the girls who are all dressed up in fancy dresses and heavy jewelry, finding amusement in how they’re all eyeing Jaemin up and down like he’s a prettier version of an ATM. “And also, what do you expect? You have the look, the money, know how to kick someone’s ass. That’s more than what a trophy wife needs.”

Jaemin scratches his neck sheepishly. “I don’t know how to take that but thank you, you look better than all of them honestly. I don’t know why women choose to suffocate themselves in a dress and torment their feet just to attract guys with thick wallets like me. I think I’ll need to settle down sooner or later and I’m not planning on doing that with a brat who only sees how many dollar signs I can afford on Yelp.” He sighs in pure frustration and a puff of cold air escapes his lips.

“Haha very funny, Na Jaemin is adulting like how the Senator’s son should be in his early 20s,” you joke. “And no, I’m not gonna make fun of you for that. You want me to pinpoint where we are right now? Adulthood.”

“No! I’m being serious!”

“Keep telling yourself that, kid.”

“Let me take you on a date and prove it.”

“You’re drunk,” you laugh nervously. But suddenly he inches in closer and your breath hitches in your throat. Nope. He’s dead-ass serious. “You’re being fucking serious, aren’t you?”

Jaemin brings your hand up and presses a small kiss on your knuckles, “See you around, manager Lee.” before sliding away with ease, leaving you blushing so furiously that you almost forgot your heart was broken that night.

six. While you feel like you’re about to have a heart attack because of a date, Kuma - Jennie’s Pomeranian is complaining to you with his eyes about his first world problems aka, Jennie leaving his favorite toy back in New Zealand. “Yes, yes, I get that it’s absolutely unforgivable of her to do that.” You acknowledge and nod absentmindedly, petting him gently. “If anything, I can do you a favor and douse one of her favorite dresses in pickle juice.”

“But also what?” You tilt your head slightly, “She what?! She insulted your favorite tuna bites?! She’s a witch! Burn her!”

“I can’t stand the goddamn smell, that’s all.”Jennie glares at you while hauling her suitcases out of the closet. “You dramatic, bitchy, ungrateful ass.”

“Jen, it’s just a dinner date.”

Jennie dodges your eye roll and proceeds to rummage through one of her ten suitcases, throwing dresses and bodysuits all over the floor. She’s lucky the suite has plenty of extra space or you won’t be able to see the floor in the next fifteen minutes for all you know. Kim Jennie goes ham on picking out clothes for her favorite bitches because not only is she one of the most acclaimed actresses but she’s also a fashion icon, influencer, and Chanel’s one and only darling. Hence, knowing that you’re going on a date with the dress code: formal; she freaked out and dragged you all the way from your house to the hotel that she’s staying in.

You facepalm yourself onto the extra king-size bed and sighs into the soft blanket. Yeah, that’s how rich the Kims are. Not king-size, but extra king-size that can fit at least four people but still have extra leg space. You know where to have your girls’ night this weekend now because you’d rather not have Ryujin whip your ass for bringing friends over.

Your groan grows louder when you keep hearing Jennie repeats “I’m a genius, a fucking genius!” to herself over and over again until she stops. And that’s when you decide to push yourself off the bed carefully to not wrinkle your clothes. “Look at this baby!” She holds up a long, bedazzled gown with spaghetti straps. Gives you a very 70s vibe but you’re not mad at it, you think you might be able to pull it off. “Listen, if you don’t look good in this, I’ll call Chanel and drop it as a flop, got it?”

Wow, Chanel is hanging on the edge of flopping by a strand of hair just because of you. The pressure’s on.

Jennie shoves you into the ridiculous-sized bathroom with marble floor and all, she’s definitely not letting you wear one of your blazers today. “Knock knock,” she impatiently leans against the door after what seems like ten minutes. But all Jennie’s met with is dead silence, she’s starting to get worried now. “Y/N, you good?”

You barge out of the bathroom with a panicked expression, shrieking. “Kim Jennie what were you thinking?!” When she gives you a what-do-you-mean look, you mentally groan to yourself and are kind of ready to call the date off. You’re not going out looking like this. “It’s 64 degrees outside and you’re making me wear this?!” You do a full 360 turn to only to show her the awfully low cut on the back of the dress, and she immediately claps happily like a seal. God, what is wrong with your friend?

“Stunning! Absolutely stunning!” Jennie nods to herself like the evil mad mind genius that she is. “You’re pretty tolerant, so I think it’s not gonna be a problem.”

“Do I have a say in this?” You eye her in defeat when she helps you on a dainty necklace and a pair of silver earrings.

Jennie puts her hands on her hips and almost laughs, admiring you like a piece of art, a creation that she will forever keep in her heart. “What makes you think so?” And off to the date, you go.

Jaemin picks you up not long after, wearing a full-on white suit in his black Mercedes. It’s not hard to guess that it’s his favorite. Since the party from last week, both of you have been texting and FaceTiming non-stop, it almost feels like he’s making up for the lost time that Chan’s wasted. For the Senator’s son, he’s surprisingly approachable, very quirky but charming at the same time. Jaemin does give an effort to make you laugh every time he sends you the same memes over and over again. Hey, it’s not your fault his humor is impeccable.

But being one of the Elite, you can’t blame him for wanting to do it the old-fashioned way. Fancy restaurant, having waiters drape white napkins over your lap, cheesy classical music in the background and the typical candles to set the romantic atmosphere. The place is quite busy too, some ladies in their forties are wheezing in helpless laughter as a waitress secretly shoots them dirty looks while a group of businessmen is eating in silence, an old couple is feeding each other in the corner and a younger couple that you don’t really pay attention to since they’re too far away. Sometimes you wonder what that feels like, to have someone by your side forever.

Maybe forever is just not meant for you.

Forever might not be for you, but going on a date feels like a fresh breeze passing by after so much pain and agony. Jaemin always tries to make you feel as comfortable as possible but still manages to make you laugh until your stomach hurts and tears are evident in the corners of your eyes. He’s not one of those guys who’s not used to hearing the word ‘no’ and never pushes your boundaries. But the feeling’s not there, it’s just not there at all and you wish that it was. You can’t play along then end up breaking his heart later on. No one deserves going through that, not even the ones who lost your trust.

“Okay..” Jaemin peels his eyes away from his crème brûlée’s when you set your fork down. “Just to be clear, I don’t hate you but I would never date you.” And he immediately chokes on his big bite, coughing furiously into the white napkin. You’re very straight to the point, he appreciates that, but still, ouch.

“Tell me three valid reasons why I should stop going after your heart.”

“One, I don’t wanna break your heart. Two, I don’t want you to break mine. And three, I just threw it in the trash.”

Jaemin rolls his eyes rather dramatically, holding back a lighthearted chuckle. “So what? You got your heart broken by some bastard and now you’re gonna distance yourself from everything that’s related to ‘love’? Do you really want to spend the rest of your life like this? Alone? In your giant mansion with your butt load of money?”

“Yes,” you nod without hesitation, trying to ignore the bitter feeling that’s rising in your throat. “And technically I can adopt as many puppies as I want to.”

“Fair enough,” he sighs and moves a bit to the side. “There’s your man, twelve o’clock.”

You feel like you would personally gouge your eyes out of the sockets the moment they land on Chan and his current girlfriend at the opposite table if you weren’t sane enough for a Michelin-rated restaurant. They’re both wearing black, laughing and talking with each other like they’re the only beings left in this world. You wonder if fate could be a bit more generous to you, just a little bit, then would you be there with Chan instead? You’ve told yourself one too many times not to dwell on the past but like always, you never learn. And you know that you’re dumb but you still don’t get why fate forces two people to meet each other knowing damn well that one of them is gonna leave the other behind.

But this time when you look more closely, his smile looks somewhat forced and the dark circles under his eyes have been darkened by time. He looks so tired and drained but still keeps up the smile for his date. A pang of guilt hits you hard when you realize that you should have listened to what he had to say at the party. He doesn’t look happy, that’s what ticks you off.

Chan subconsciously flickers his eyes upwards and meets yours, completely frozen in his spot like a statue. His smile falters, eyes going wide from surprise, utterly, undeniably speechless. It’s not easy to read what’s going on in his mind but you’re positive that he doesn’t seem to expect to see you in this kind of situation. He quickly averts his gaze back onto the other girl, laughing nervously so that she won’t turn around and accidentally see you. Your heart unknowingly sinks to the pit of your stomach.

“It shouldn’t be like this,” you never knew that you’ve been crying until Jaemin gently wipes your tears away with his handkerchief, his eyes softening at your sobbing form. “But it is what it is.”

seven. Chan quickly calls in a cab for his date after sliding his credit card across the counter. He grimaces slightly when she presses a goodbye kiss on his cheek, and then waves her off when she enters the taxi. After receiving his bill, Chan pushes himself through the busy waiters and waitresses, mumbling small “sorry” along the way until his feet lead him to the long flight of stairs.

And he sees you standing there with your back against him, fiddling with your fingers nervously. He knows you’ve never been good at hiding how awkward you are so it gives him a tiny bit of hope when he finds out he still has this kind of effect on you. But when he takes a few more steps forwards, his jaw almost drops to the floor when he can finally get a closer look at your dress.

Chan’s never seen you in a dress before, but he believes that you have the ability to pull off anything. He’s not wrong after all. The dress hugs your figure perfectly and in the most flattering way, leaving him in complete awe. But you’d never choose a dress, even when it’s a formal dinner. Goddamn, that kid is one lucky son of a bitch, he mentally curses.

You meet Chan once again on a balcony, but tonight you’re met with a sky without stars. It seems like they can’t even muster the courage to see where this conversation is gonna go.

“What’s her name?” You ask breathlessly, still not willing to make direct eye contact with him.

Chan inhales deeply, and exhales, “Her name is Eunji. Apparently, our families had an agreement that we’re gonna be engaged once we reached a certain age. I’m so sorry for shutting you out without a proper explanation, I really am. I’m such an asshole.”

You finally can look at him without getting all teary-eyed, your lips trembling. “It’s alright,” then you quickly look away to avoid any awkwardness. “You guys look good together, I’m happy for you both.” And when Chan doesn’t say anything, you decide to ask him softly. “But are you?”

He buries his face into the palms of his hands and sighs heavily. “I- I don’t know, I just don’t want to let them down. And I tried so hard to tell them that I already had someone else but I’m just scared that—“

“That they won’t accept me because you didn’t know that I do in fact, make cold, hard cash?” You stare deeply into the distance and laugh humorlessly. “After all those years, I had no idea, no fucking idea that you were Christopher Bang, like the Christopher Bang, the one who’s supposed to take over the family’s business, the most eligible bachelor in the country.”

Chan grabs you by the shoulders, catching you off guard when your noses are barely touching, his warm breath fanning your face. “Speak for yourself. You’ve never even told me that you were Felix’s stepsister. All those years of college, and I only know that you’re the manager of the Carpe Diem Hotel now. And why are you dating the Senator’s son again? Last time I checked, you’re still leaving me messages even when I went MIA or put the phone on silent all the time.”

“I can date whoever I want to,” you try to shove his arms away but his grip only gets tighter. “And no shit, you know I’m not into guys like that. We’re not dating, he offered me dinner after seeing me so miserable at the party.”

And you quickly assert with a fake smile. “But that’s not the point, is it? Let me guess, if I were not some daughter of the CEO of the biggest hotel chain in the country, then you would never tell your parents about me, would you? You’d rather marry Eunji so that your grandparents won’t potentially disown you instead.”

Chan shakes his head profusely because he could never, would never, can never, and will never trade you for anything else in this world. “No, you don’t understand- I- just- just give me some time and-“ He loves you too much to the point that his heart bleeds a bit whenever you catch his gaze from across the table and return to your conversation with Jaemin, giggling and laughing at his lame jokes like nothing’s ever happened. But his biggest problem here, is how can he convey his love to you once again when you’ve already despised him with every single cell inside your body?

You narrow your eyes at him, slightly amused by how he’s stuttering. “And?”

“Let me make it up to you,” he tells you after running a hand through his brown locks. “Come with my family on a cruise trip next month in Singapore. I’ll prove myself to you and do everything in my power to get your trust back. Even if things can never be the same again. I can’t lose you, I won’t let you go this time. Bring whoever as your plus-one, just not that kid…I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

“How are you so sure that you’re not gonna break my heart again?”

Chan says breathlessly and goosebumps automatically bubble up on your skin at his words, “I’m not. Because I know that no matter how many times I stupidly, or impulsively hurt you, you will always stay. And I’ll always be there to gather the broken pieces as if you’ve never felt the pain before.”

A long, muffled silence occurs between both of you. You quickly look away after a good ten seconds of making eye contact with Chan. He’s having that kind of effect on you like how he used to and you’re determined not to fall again. You’d hate to have your heart broken twice by the same person. “You do know that we wouldn’t have worked out anyway right?”

Chan doesn’t say anything, instead, he turns around and calls a ride for you. His eyes look stormy that night, impossible to read as if there are so many things on his mind at the same time to the point that his head becomes cloudy and nothing makes sense anymore. He doesn’t even wave you goodbye when you get inside the car but his gaze never leaves your figure until it’s completely gone in the distance.

You know that it’s something more than just love because your feelings for Chan are still there even when he’s not. You’re just far too busy being depressed inside your bedroom, under your fuzzy blanket to notice them. Now they’re back, again, for the third time, much, much stronger and more powerful. You don’t know whether this is hazing because falling for someone more than twice just sounds unhealthy for you, a person who lives off donuts for two weeks straight because you need the push of the sugar crush in order to avoid caffeine. Chan just stepped into your life like how he did about three hundred and sixty-five days ago and completely broke down the fort you were trying to build.

Call you an idiot, but is it bad to think that he’s not planning on leaving any time soon?

eight. You hate cruises for plenty of reasons, and one of them being, not surprisingly, a cruise is basically a hotel on water. The concept of a hotel floating on the water makes it a trillion times cooler and unnecessarily overrated. In your defense, having a massage or partying ‘til dawn while not knowing when you’re gonna drown to your imminent death is petrifying. Maybe you’re just bitter about the fact that people don’t appreciate normal hotels enough, because they really don’t.

Okay, if you have to choose one thing not to hate on a cruise, then it’s probably the mini theatre that Chan personally demanded for his chaotic group of friends. Hey, privileged people need some wholesome, chill times with friends too.

But the fact that almost everyone has already seen Stranger Things makes you feel more like a grandma than you already are. These are the times where you rarely choose to sit next to Jisung because you’re both on the same boat for once. Other times, you’re just bickering like the reincarnations of every movie where the main characters constantly want to put the other’s head on a chopping block but end up falling in love anyway; except, you will never fall in love with Jisung. That’s so creepy on so many levels.

Creepier than whatever the fuck of a demonic image that Hyunjin’s about to show you, being the pest that he is. “We have four votes for Stranger Things and four votes for Spider-Man: Far from home,” he announces in that irritating voice of his while hogging the whole bowl of popcorn to himself. “So what’s it gonna be, Han? Choose wisely, my friend,”

Jisung sips on his Coke and points his index finger at his roommate as if he’s accusing Hyunjin of murdering someone, “I’m with Y/N, because screw you,” he’s not entirely wrong because, without a doubt, Jisung’s soul is gonna detach itself from his body after the first episode. “And if Chan were here, he’d agree with me,”

“Nope,” Chan conveniently steps in when you’re about to do a fist bump with Jisung, taking the seat on your right despite plenty of other (about twenty-six) empty seats. “We’re watching Stranger Things, it’s been almost thirty minutes and all you guys have been doing is aiming at each other’s throat,” he whips out a small remote from his pocket and clicks the ‘play’ button without anyone’s consent. He has no right to do that! You don’t think you’ll ever forgive him after this.

Chill time isn’t so wholesome anymore.

So basically the whole plot is about a boy going missing, flipping a whole town from Indiana upside down. Everyone spends days and nights, desperately trying to find him until one day, a little girl with a shaved head comes into the story and makes the entirety of the movie that much weirder. And more horror-worthy when she’s being chased by ‘bad guys’. This is another reason why you hate Chan: he can’t be bothered about what he’s watching because he’s only here for good food. And probably your suffering. But mostly just good food.

Actually, it might be the other one because you can clearly see that stupid grin on his face when you pull your hood low enough to cover half of your eyes so that you won’t be potentially haunted at night by whatever’s ready to pop on screen. And Jisung’s already clinging onto one of your arms like his life depends on it, legs quivering in his boots. You really don’t wanna accidentally elbow him in the face when there’s an inevitable jump scare.

“Chan, you sadist, I hope you’re happy for doing this to me,” you sneer at him with gritted teeth, frustrated about the fact that you can’t singlehandedly feed him to the sharks.

Chan leans in slyly, lips dangerously close to your ear. “That’s for you ogling Tom Holland,”

Jisung automatically gasps scandalously, once again opening that useless mouth of his and decides to put you on trial. “A compromise was almost made, Y/N you monster!” (Actually no, he’d never survive law school). Jisung wiggles himself out of his seat faster than a lightning bolt and snuggles closely next to Woojin, who’s staring at the screen like someone’s forcing him to watch one of the worst pantomimes to ever exist. Great, now you’re stuck with Chan in the very front seat, having no choice to hold onto him like he’s your last option before falling into your impending misery in the next sixty minutes.

This asshole is really—

The moment you’re ready to pour a paper cup full of Sprite over his head, Jisung and Hyunjin just happen to whimper and yelp at the same time, with the same amount of awfully loud volume, spilling their own endless string of curse words with the same length while holding onto whoever’s lucky enough to sit next to them. So naturally, you stupidly let your guard down and cower like a child watching Snow White for the very first time and being absolutely terrified of the ugly witch. You’re far too busy thinking of ways to bury Hyunjin alive to realize that you’ve unknowingly pulled yourself closer to Chan and hid your face in his chest.

“Hwang Hyunjin you fucking moron!” Jisung yells at the top of his lungs when another demonic scene occurs, sending actual chills down his spine. He almost misses the feeling of still having a vendetta with his friend back in the good old high school days when they’re still wrestling each other every two minutes. Also, you’ve never felt this bad for Jisung (or even related to him) in a fairly long time, because… same.

Hyunjin can officially kiss your Jeep goodbye because you’ll never let him borrow it again. That idiot.

“You’re such a baby,” Chan comments and purposely cuts off your trains of thoughts so that you can peel yourself off him and look straight into the screen again, at the wrong time.

“I’m not your baby—“

You hiss in panic and throw yourself onto him again, trying to calm yourself by listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat and persistent pace of breathing. You’re already mentally apologizing to Jennie because you’re 75% sure that she’s not gonna be able to sleep with you sticking to her side like a jellyfish. There was this one time you all watched The Conjuring because Jisoo insisted so much and except for her and Lisa, no one got a wink of sleep that night so you’re not sure how you’re gonna survive this when there’s no pillow or blanket to protect you from all of the horrifying sound effects and imageries.

Chan secretly bumps his fist with Jeongin in the back, who’s a little bit too occupied with Hyunjin crushing his bones every two seconds. The perks of hitting on a friend’s sister. Works like a charm, he smirks internally. “Little Y/N is scared, how precious,” he looks down at you, and a smile blooms on his lips, enjoying the blissful feeling of having you in his embrace again.

“I am not scared!” You still can’t learn to accept that sometimes, admitting to your defeat is better for your own good.

“Then why won’t you look at the screen then?”

“Because- oh my God, what the hell was that?!”

“It’s okay to admit that you’re scared, I can protect you,” Chan boasts with his chin high up. And you’d love to blush at his affectionate words right now, really. Only if he didn’t quickly jump into conclusion because of your crush on Tom Holland and chose the movie in the span of a split second.

“Christopher, this isn’t funny!”

“Well, I certainly didn’t try to insult you in any means at all, ma’am. I don’t see what’s the problem here,” he singsongs, gently draping an arm around your shoulders. This time, he’s glad that you didn’t end up punching him in the gut.

“Shut the fuck— Jesus Christ!” You screech when the demonic image keeps flashing in your mind, driving your head around in circles. “Chan, I swear to God, you’ll regret—“ you don’t even bother to finish your sentence and have no choice to hold onto him like he’s your only source of life, without him, you’ll soon disintegrate into fine dust and slip away easily. If Lisa was here, she would record the whole thing and play it on the slideshow of videos that she’s been preparing for your upcoming birthday. Thank God she’s playing beer pong with BamBam somewhere on the second floor.

That sounds so melodramatic but it’s not necessarily wrong. Chan still has that same sense of comfort whenever your skin comes in contact with his, even when it’s a thin layer of fabric away, you can still feel how badly it burns like a reminder for you that he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. Nothing’s going to change that, your intuition has told you before but you elect to ignore it. You’re starting to realize that you let Chan into your life again just like that, let him tear down your walls, and lit your heart on fire.

But what you don’t know is that his heart is still beating vigorously in his chest cavity for you, after all this time. His one and only.

“Hey, hey,” he tells you softly.

“What? Don’t make me look, I don’t wanna see it, I don’t wanna hear it either, I’m scared okay just don’t—”

“No, Y/N, look at me,” Chan chuckles and takes your face in his hands, forcing you to stare into his starry eyes. All you can see is an entire cosmos, more wondrous and beautiful than everything you’ve ever seen. He shines like he owns the entire universe in his existence, glowing from within and leaves you utterly speechless. Your head starts to become fuzzy and your heart dips when you realize how terribly close you are to him.

Chan takes your head and gently places it on the left side of his chest, smiling. “Can you hear that? It’s your fault, yeah, you did that to me,” The calm rhythm of his heart cancels everything out; all you can see is him, and all you can hear is his heartbeat. You spend approximately one second debating whether you should kiss him and you hate every moment of that one single second, you dread every nanosecond of it.

“Are you still afraid?” He whispers and you shake your head almost immediately without replying with what’s in your head. Like no shit, you’re more than just petrified right now, this is by far, one of the scariest, most frightening, and most nerve-racking decisions you’ve ever made in your life.

At that moment, it feels as if you’re standing on the edge of a cliff with him by your side. And you do exactly what he’s asking you to because it’s the only thing that you can do.

You jump.

nine. Weirdly enough, you miss college.

You miss those days where you had to finish the entirety of your morning routine in a span of five minutes so that you could be out the door and not miss the bus. You miss those moments where you had to skip two steps at a time on the longass flight of stairs just so your professor wouldn’t have another excuse to yell at you other than the overdue assignments.

You also miss college parties, not because they’re ‘lit’ but because things were simpler back then. People come, drink, get wasted, fight someone (or make out with someone), and then go home. Actually, no, they usually make out first thing first in the front porch because college students don’t give two fucks about their dignity and decency. You definitely didn’t miss that. And also those times where you ogled Chan during lunch breaks or when you both took the usual 4419 to college on a daily basis.

Everything gets a little more nostalgic when Minho slides your usual mojito across the counter and gives you that cat-like smile of his. Somehow, it makes you wanna hug him and bite his head off at the same time but you’re not wasted enough for that yet. You just need to get your mind off Chan when he’s too busy being tormented by his own family.

“Zero sips and you’re already dreaming about Chan? Gee, if I’m not mistaken then you’re so in love with him, manager Lee,” Minho is in his element, surrounded by good music and alcohol. In which, there’s no point in arguing with him anyway because you’re basically vulnerable and defenseless when everywhere you go, you see Chan’s face.

You down half of the mojito in one go and the bartender in front of you almost staggers backward from utter shock. Normally, you’d be snapping back at him with a witty retort instead of being all sappy and dreamy like this. This is not good. “My my, you’re really thinking about him, aren’t you? So tell me, how does that feel? To be deeply in love with another human being,” he leans forward to approach you, propping his head up with his hands. You murmur a small “bullshit” and proceed to toss your head back for a bit, shaking the weariness away.

“Listen, I might be heartless and all but when I accidentally put Tabasco into Jisung’s orange juice instead of honey the other day, I did actually feel bad about it. I felt a rush of empathy for a split second there,” Minho muses when he sees the corners of your lips curl upwards, stretching into a small grin. “It was wild, and then I just thought; is this what it feels like…to be a decent human being? Edgy, I know.”

You laugh dryly with boredom glinting in your eyes. “You know, if you’re going to distract me from thinking about Chan, at least be good at it,” his mouth drops open at your statement, completely gobsmacked. Oh, how the tables have turned. He’s never felt so defeated and useless before. Usually, he’s the one who makes others speechless. It’s not hard to tell that he hates it when everything just flips upside down.

“Bitch please,” Minho says with puckered lips. “Even if I spiked your drink, you’d still repeat his name in your dream like a mantra because you’re so fucking whipped for him,” he stops for a while to train his undivided attention on the Tequila Sunrise for Jisung who’s already smashed after two beers. He can really use some counseling, Minho ponders. “And you wouldn’t kiss Chan back if you hated him, gotta love stupid feelings that you can’t even explain for yourself, am I right?”

You take another sip of your drink and exhale, staring into his sharp eyes. “Excuse me, who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Lee Minho, genius, dancer, fashion icon by day, party animal by night, personal counselor,” he holds back the urge to slap you across the face with Felix’s Gucci slippers and instead, musters the sweetest smile. Being a bartender and a potential alcoholic at the same time definitely doesn’t help because he wishes he could just chug a whole bottle of vodka before you complain to him about your miserable love life. “I believe I’m qualified enough to give you some solid advice. So shut up and listen to me—“

“—I’m trying! But Minho, what if I’m the delusional one? What if he just wanted a fresh start so that we wouldn’t be so awkward towards each other? A kiss can’t possibly mean something. I mean, if you consider our New Year’s kiss, it meant so much to me but I don’t know if—“

And now, Lee Minho, self-proclaimed, genius, dancer, fashion icon by day, party animal by night, personal counselor; doesn’t have the slightest earthly idea of what the hell he should do. God, serious relationships are so fucking complicated to the point that his brain is yelling for retirement. Usually, he just poisons his friends with a dose of some common sense and solid logic to knock them back to reality in order to figure out whatever they’re going through. But this time, he thinks he should just let you fall further and further until Chan catches you instead.

Now that he’s thinking about it. Chan definitely didn’t pay him enough to be the bartender and a personal therapist for the love of his life.

“Seems like you’re not enjoying the party,” you instantly turn around because you can realize the owner of the voice in the matter of a split second. The moment Chan’s eyes are locked with yours, your heart immediately jumps up to your throat and then drops back down to your chest. If only this was because of the mojito, you’d feel better about it somehow but unfortunately, Minho gave you a non-alcoholic one today.

You can tell that he’s already hammered by the smell of alcohol when his warm breath brushes over your nose and how his cheeks are redder than usual. Minho quickly excuses himself from the scene to save himself from witnessing a mediocre, drunk confession session. And also because people are starting to pour in by the second, so the bar will probably be overpopulated in the next ten minutes or so. It’s downright a college party again except for the fact that everyone is floating on water but still, alcohol-thirsty pigs are still pigs. Everyone’s sloppy and lightheaded to the point that you’re already hearing the janitors crying themselves to sleep tonight.

“I’m enjoying it more than you if you couldn’t tell already,” your face morphs into a frown when Chan giggles and stumbles around like a madman. He would have facepalmed himself onto the marble counter with various bottles that probably cost more than one of his cars combined and made a scene if it weren’t for your hands steadying the blades of his shoulders. The warmth of your fingers radiate through his denim jacket and sinks into his skin, making his head a little fuzzy while you’re wondering how the fuck did he get this batshit drunk when Minho was with you the whole time.

“What the hell did you have?”

“I don’t know, BamBam asked me to try out some of his new cocktail recipes,” Chan hiccups and allows you to fling one of his arms over your shoulders. “Guess I didn’t consider dinner with my family afterward. Mom said I should just get some rest but I was thinking of you, so voila, I’m here now,” he gives you that signature boyish grin of his that never fails to make your heart skip a beat. But this time, your frown just grows deeper because since when did BamBam know how to make cocktails? And almost knocked Chan out too? You know why you should just stick to Minho’s mojito now.

Your eyes widen in panic as Chan almost trips over your foot when Hyunjin accidentally bumps into his back. “Oh Y/N, I’ve been looking for you,” the younger boy tells you with a Margarita in his hand, curiosity laced in his eyes. “No, scratch that, actually, some guy called Jaemin is looking for you,” Hyunjin then leans closer to a very-shocked-looking you and tries to shout over the loud music. “Who is that guy anyway? I heard rumors going around that he’s the Senator’s son or—“

Even though Chan’s not very sober at the moment and all he can hear is “some guy” and “the Senator’s son”, he knows that he needs to get you out of here as soon as possible. That bastard, Chan thought he’s already eliminated him from the guest list. Without a second thought, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you away from Hyunjin although he’s not the real threat here, piloting you through the sweaty bodies grinding against each other to the EDM music in the background. He was gonna take up the DJ duty tonight but really…is he gonna let you have another encounter with Na Jaemin? Yeah, he thought so too.

Before you can even register the whole situation, Chan’s already backed you up against a wall in his bedroom, a hand over your mouth with the other on the small of your back. Time seems to stop when you see the golden flecks in his eyes, floating softly in his nebula, and you’re absolutely, definitely, totally falling for him all over again. He’s so incredibly beautiful it leaves you moonstruck, wondering how can God be so unfair to make Chan look better than you even when he’s wasted.

Everything starts moving once again when a series of “have you seen Y/N?” echoes through the hallway and you can physically feel Chan tighten his grip on your body, jaw clenching too much that it might hurt. You know that voice all too well; Na Jaemin is here. And he’s looking for you. But you can care less right now because your heart automatically does a flip when Chan makes direct eye contact with you, his index finger hovering over his lips.

“Y/N, I need to tell��“

But this is not the time to fawn over how good he looks, you tell yourself with such determination.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” you help Chan walk over to his king-size bed, his limbs wobbly and unstable. After a solid minute of struggling and panting, you finally have Chan laying on the bed, legs dangling off the edge. While you’re too busy unfolding his blanket, he’s murmuring gibberish that you can’t quite, choosing to ignore it like how you’ve ignored Woojin snoring at two in the morning during a camping trip. “Chan,” you shake his shoulders slightly. “You’re gonna fall flat on your face if you sleep like this,”

You hiss through gritted teeth helplessly. “Chan!” But he doesn’t even move a single muscle. “You idiot, why did you agree to drink all of those cocktails?” You’re going to rip BamBam’s head off of his neck next time with your bare hands, it’s on. “Chan!” Your last attempt of waking him up fails miserably when he scrunches his nose a little, then proceeds to move on with his slumber.

Yeah, he’s definitely gone.

Or not.

Just when you’re about to give up and leave him as he is, Chan grabs you by the wrist and pulls you flush against his chest, heart thundering more vigorously than ever. He easily rolls the both of you to the side with no effort, only to get a better grip of your waist, his breath tickling your nose. At the suddenly close proximity, you can take a closer look at his long lashes that framed his eyes perfectly, his tall nose and his plump lips. Chan looks so ethereal and otherworldly that you wonder what it feels like to run your hands through his hair, dance your fingers against his jawline and press your lips against his.

But you also notice the bags under his eyes and how his brows are slightly knitted together. He doesn’t seem to be doing a great job at taking care of himself after all and it makes your heartache knowing that he didn’t have any other choice. It’s no one’s fault, really, though, in scenarios like this, people would love to point fingers and make assumptions out of something that they don’t even know. Falling in love with Chan for the third time can be the best thing that’s ever happened to you or it will eventually push you off a cliff, straight into a downward spiral.

Whatever the consequences are, you’d never trade him for anything in this world. Even if it means getting your heart broken all over again. You’re willing to walk through fire and step on thorns just to be by his side again. But at the same time, you’re not sure if he feels the same because if not, you’ll be left with nothing. Maybe he’ll forget all of this in the morning. Maybe it’s never meant to happen anyway.

Chan suddenly pulls you in more and his lips are terribly close to your flesh, your eyes going wide in panic. Moments later, soft snores escape his mouth as his chest heaves up and down in a calm rhythm. It reminds you of when he hugs you in the theatre, embarrassment soon flares through your nostrils and sprinkle a shade of coral on the apples of your cheeks. You can’t help but smile, arms snaking around his firm waistline.

Chan hugs you so tightly that you blindly believe that he needs you. As if it’s his way of saying “stay, it makes me feel at ease that you’re right here, in my arms again”. No one has ever really needed you. As sad as it sounds, your family can still move on with life just fine even when you’re not there. Your friends have their own jobs and other relationships as well, they don’t actually need you. You’ve never felt anything quite like this before, it’s a little bit frightening but also a little bit tempting.

Yep, you think to yourself. I’m done for.

Goddamnit BamBam.

ten. Chan groans loudly when the early daylight hits him like a truck, knocking him out of his semi-unconscious state. Hangovers still hit him hard, but this time, shit hurts way worse because someone still has a lot to learn as a mixologist. He smells like alcohol, probably looks like trash, and his head is fuzzy yet [insert culprit’s name] is standing right in front of him, all dressed up like he’s about to do a drug transaction.

“Bro,” he narrows his eyes to do a full scan of the bedroom, plopping himself back down only to realize that you’re not here. “You fucking suck at making cocktails,”

BamBam only chuckles humorlessly at that, five of his drinks didn’t even put a dent on Changbin yet the infamous Bang Chan wasn’t able to stay sober to not have a girl carry him to his bedroom. “Drink,” he gives the glass of water in his hand a light thrust before handing Chan a tablet of aspirin with the other. He’s also decided that it’s a lovely Sunday morning and he doesn’t have time for this shit. He should be chomping on breakfast in bed with something on the TV right now. But, he can’t risk having Chan roam the cruise looking all homeless and insane.

“I can’t believe not only did you let Y/N into your room, slept in the same bed as her,” Chan chokes on the big gulp of water that he’s just taken, and everything from last night starts pouring back to him like an unwanted nightmare. He was far too drunk to even remember every detail, he just prays to whatever gods up there that he didn’t say anything stupid. “Yet you didn’t even confess, great fucking job.” BamBam asserts like the true friend that he is, accidentally pushing Chan closer to his imminent misery.

Chan snaps his head up and almost screams aloud that his heart’s about to jump out of his chest, “You wanted me to what?!”

“You heard me,” BamBam tongues the inside of his cheeks in annoyance, regretting the amount of money that he spent to tip one of the cruise’s staff so that he could sneak his own alcohol in safely. “You know what that means? That means you still didn’t shoot your shot! You did not shoot your shot! Which entails? You’re gonna be lonely for the rest of your life and eventually die alone. You’re gonna die alone! You hear me?”

Chan thinks it’s way too early for him to endure BamBam repeating himself over and over again like a crazy person. He might still be slightly hammered because all he’s hearing is “shoot your shot” and “die alone”, he’s confused because why in the world is his best friend making him choose between killing someone and dying alone? Wait, no, actually….he might mean something else. Chan’s just in denial.

“Where is she?” He rasps out tiredly after taking the pill and downs the whole glass of water.

“Lisa carried her back to Jennie’s room in the middle of the night,” BamBam informs his friend, watching how his eyes are starting to turn stormy, and then he exhales out of relief. “She almost murdered me! This is all your fault!” He cries out dramatically before belly-flopping himself onto Chan’s bed, metaphoric tears dripping down on his cheek.

Chan perks an eyebrow as if BamBam just offended him, as if he’s mental and just made it out of an insane asylum. “My fault?” He questions, his voice getting louder and louder at the end. “Whose idea was it to poison me with your questionable drinks? Whose idea was it to make me all batshit drunk? Whose idea was it to let me into the party so that I could find the only thing that I’ve been trying to avoid all night? It was your fault, okay?! It-was-your-fault!” He deadpans and soon realizes that now he’s the one who’s repeating himself.

BamBam is more than confused right now because didn’t Chan want this after all? To confess to you once again and get you back? All he was trying to do is basically give his friend a teeny tiny sprinkle of motivation and this is how he repays him? Now he looks like an idiot who has been trying to sabotage the relationship between the two protagonists of another horrible rom-com. Jackson was right, he should have just played ping pong in peace and not stick his nose into other people’s business.

“Look,” he places a hand on Chan’s shoulder as he sighs deeply into the palms of his hands, mentally debating how the fuck can he make it up to you now. “She could have just refused your invitation of stepping onto this cruise. She could have pushed you away when you tried to kiss her,” BamBam stops midway to suppress his laughter at how Chan’s cheeks are taking no time to turn into a brighter shade of pink. “And, she could have left you alone and drunk at the bar, and- I don’t know, hang out with Na Jaemin or something.”

When a muffled silence descends in between the current civil conversation, only a confused look crosses Chan’s features and all BamBam wants to do right now is to put his head through a goddamn wall. “Jesus fucking Christ…” he murmurs to himself. “Minho’s right. You both are so dumb it’s physically hurting me.” Not exactly the most comforting words to tell a person in crisis but things hitting hard like this actually helps Chan a lot more than how people usually sugarcoat their words.

“Listen, it’s not like there’s no more fish in the sea but have you ever met someone who instantly clicked and just simply fell for you? She didn’t know that you had money, she didn’t know anything about your family. She could care less about your social background too honestly, because she fell for who you truly are,” BamBam hates to be cliché, really, but it is what it is. “Y/N has never gone a day without checking your notifications, she was so broken when you suddenly just shut her out like that. And yes, you were an asshole for doing that but can’t you see how hesitant she was every time you’re trying to get closer?”

Chan looks up at his friend, his tense muscles finally relaxing. “Which isn’t the point…”

“Which isn’t the point,” BamBam tells him, looking more serious than ever and it’s freaking him out. “Because what I’m trying to say is, it’s still not too late to shoot your shot.”

eleven. Maybe you deserve someone else, but deep down, you’ve always wanted Chan. And in your heart, you know that it’s right because humans only want the love they thought they deserved. You think part of the reason why you can never seem to let go of him is you’re just scared that something so amazing won’t happen twice. People might call you out for dwelling on the past but you call it a coping mechanism.

Magically, you’re starting to get used to the frequent encounters with Chan and Eunji since they’re also apparently part of the Privileged. You really should give yourself a pat on your shoulder for not having a mental breakdown whenever you see them hand in hand in public. The forced smile on Chan’s face always gives you the tiniest strand of hope that he’s just putting on a show as demand from his family. But at the same time, you’re scared that you’re just being delusional and you’d never have anything to do with his life from now on. Perhaps he wanted a fresh start so that everything can be like how they used to back in college? He didn’t want to “lose you again” because he still wanted to be friends?

But every time he tried to sneak a glance towards your direction and smiled, all you could think was: “Oh, shit,”

You knew that you fell for him twice, and you’re still falling. Every. Single. Day.

“Like what you see?” Changbin brags on the other side of the curtain, followed by a string of gagging noises by Jisung. And you secretly want to take a picture of his face, for science, obviously. But by that, you mean to blackmail him whenever wherever you want because he’d rather not have his fans gushing over him looking like a dying donkey, inside a fifteen thousand dollars suite on a cruise.

“You look like an idiot.”

Jisung voices with pure disgust in his tone. “Who the fuck lend you a white tuxedo?” Needless to say, you try to picture Changbin wearing a white suit and you immediately scrunch your nose up, shaking your head profusely. Changbin looks especially good in dark colors, but you’re not saying that he wouldn’t look good in brighter tones, it just feels weird not seeing him in a black tux, even when it’s just for a small party.

“My sister! If anything she’s an idiot,” he’s probably throwing his hands up in frustration. “She said I should switch things up. And I trusted her, now I feel like an idiot.”

Jisung asserts like a snake, “You look like you have a stick up in your ass, it’s so high up I can literally see it whenever you’re opening your mouth.” He’s probably man-spreading on the blue velvet couch, playing with the glass of bubbly champagne that he’s specifically requested. You don’t get why he would want to drink when he’s waiting for his friends in the dressing room but he will, just because he can.

“Ew,” he spats not long after. You’re not sure if he’s referring to the drink or Changbin’s outfit. It might be the drink, it’s shit but it gets the job done. It’s more about the concept of looking elegant and fancy more than the concept of getting wasted, in order to not look like a corrupted person. “Why would you godsend privileged, snoshy, live-and-breathe-in-money people deadass drink this instead of a nice Tequila?” Yep, not surprising.

Changbin protests, clearly annoyed. “Because we can afford that shit, just like how there’s a random, money dripping guitar in the dressing room,” you don’t even have to peek to know that he’s rolling his eyes to the point that they’re gonna fly out of their sockets. “But at the same time…true, I don’t like it either. That’s why I never get wasted whenever I go to parties like these, man, I miss college parties,”

God, this zipper is driving me nuts, you mentally curse when it gets stuck halfway and your arms are already giving up on you. Where’s Jennie when you’re in desperate need of her help?

“Whatever, let’s go find your sister and get you in a new tux,” you can hear Jisung pushes himself off the couch and settles his champagne down on the coffee table. “No offense towards her…I just fucking hate it on you,”

“Wait, guys—“ the moment you try to call out to them, they basically shut the door of the dressing room. “Well, shit,” you sigh, quickly realizing that 1) you don’t have your phone with you; 2) you can’t just run outside to grab it because what if Changbin and Jisung get back here at an untimely moment; and 3) there’s no way in hell you’re gonna ask one of them to zip it up for you. Now you’re forced to stay in a confined space with your only protection aka the red velvet curtain that looks way too cliché for your liking. Seriously, isn’t Jennie supposed to be here with you? It was her idea to put you in another dress, which you hate with a passion but you can never have the heart to tell her that.

The door swings open again and you exhale out of surprise, “Thank God, Jen. You’re here. Can you help me with my zipper? It’s stuck, and my hands gave up on me,” you immediately turn around, a sense of relief washing over you.

“Do you think Chan’s gonna hate seeing me in a dress again? I mean, I did call him an asshole when I wasn’t wearing one,” you stop to take in a breath, completely oblivious about the fact that it wasn’t Jennie who opened the door. “…but I was kinda acting like a bitch when I was wearing one too. I was so furious knowing that he’s seeing someone else behind my back that I wanted to bite his head off. And now I’m stuck here with him, his family, and that chick, in a hotel, on water, floating spontaneously somewhere near Singapore.”

Wordlessly, a pair of hands push the curtains aside to tug onto your zipper, slowly adjusting it and careful not to break it at the same time. Once your dress is zipped up all the way, you’re ready to turn your head and thank your friend. “Stay still, I’m not done yet,” your face automatically burns darkly when you come to a realization that it’s definitely not Jennie, most definitely not Jennie. In fact, it’s the person you’ve been planning on avoiding all night. Before you can decide when to make a run for it and save yourself from the imminent embarrassment, a silver necklace is draped around your neck, a diamond-studded buttery resting nicely right below your collarbones.

“Beautiful,” he says again in that honey-dripping voice of his. “You should wear dresses more,”

“Chan! You just scared the living daylights out of me,” you whisper harshly, turning on your heels and shove his chest. You definitely didn’t know what you were signing up for because it’s a grave mistake for you to accidentally look into his captivating eyes and you can see an entire universe in them. Absolutely magnificent. He looks impeccably good in his bejeweled black suit jacket, black turtleneck, and a silver chain around his neck, matching pieces of jewelry adorning his ears.

Chan wiggles his brows like the self-indulging person that he is, straightening his lapel dramatically. “Hmm, I don’t know if you can smell that, but it reeks of jealousy in here, and also hatred, but mostly jealousy.”

“Can. You. Zip. It. And. Call. It. A. Day.” With every word, you repeatedly slap his chest, but only to see him breaking into a fit of giggles in return. You almost forgot that he works out, whereas, you literally have zero ounces of muscles on your body. What a disgrace to your family. Like come on, even Felix has abs, and he never turns down Tacos Tuesday whenever he has dance practice with Hyunjin because their studio is conveniently situated right next to the best Mexican restaurant.

And the guacamole there? Phenomenal.

Chan teases, “I thought girls like you should be taught to act like a lady, not hitting the innocents.”

“Stop being a baby, Bang, it’s not like I’m gonna leave you with a bruise or two.”

Ah yes, this reminds Chan of the good old days of college where you’re both in that weird phase where you’re too much of a scaredy-cat not to talk to him on a last name basis because Changbin was an idiot for constantly leaving you two alone in the music room. “Why?” His lips curl up into a grin. “Because you can’t even open a jar of spaghetti sauce by yourself?”

That’s…that’s just a harsh truth. And now you feel like Regina George getting hit by a bus because life’s willing to give you a piece of its mind. You’re weak as fuck.

“It’s not fair when Felix has a six packs while eating tacos every other week, and I’m here looking like this with a green smoothie for breakfast every day,” you mumble bitterly, already too tired to argue with Chan because the party’s starting in half an hour. “I swear he’s on drugs, he always puts something into his daily Americano.”

Chan laughs breathlessly and cups your face with his hands, squishing your cheeks together. “I’m pretty sure it’s just stevia since Lix has a sweet tooth. On the bright side, I think you look just fine like how you are right now. I like you just the way you are. No modification is needed.” The audacity.

Your nostrils flare with heat, and your cheeks feel hot against Chan’s cool fingers. Again, Chan looks really good tonight and you’re not sure how much longer your heart can hold up before you pass out in his arms. “Uhm, so, just to make it clear,” you fiddle with your fingers nervously. “You and I-“

“Hey guys, how are things going—” Jennie pops her head into the dressing room and looks around, seeing no signs of Changbin or Jisung whatsoever. “What did I miss?” She looks at you cluelessly, then her lips automatically spread into a shit-eating grin when she sees how Chan’s cupping your cheeks. Just when you thought you can’t possibly blush any more darkly.

You awkwardly pull away when Chan clears his throat, retrieving his hands from your face. “Jen, just get out, I swear it’s nothing.” Yeah, as if Jennie aka the person who proclaims to be an expert at love because she’s snuck way too many boys into her closet, is gonna believe your pathetic attempt at an explanation.

“Oh, I’ll get out,” Jennie throws you a wink and you can see how Chan’s shuddering slightly at the dangerous glint in her eyes. “Now, don’t get too freaky in here okay kids, walls are pretty thin,” she asserts unhelpfully like the true friend that she is before shutting the door close. When you’re about to blurt out as many apologies as you can muster to Chan, a soft ‘click’ echoes through your eardrums. Your eyes grow alarmed almost immediately and so do Chan’s.

Did she just lock you inside the dressing room with Chan and expect something to happen? Kim. Fucking. Jennie.

“I hate you, and Jennie,” you tell Chan, not even bothering to hit him this time.

You’d rather take a nap on that couch over there than go out and party honestly. Parties only consist of two things most of the time: drinking and talking. But getting wasted is not an option tonight because you’re not about to spill rosé on the dress that Jennie adores the most. Although you do hate her ass right now.

And people don’t even hold proper conversations during parties unless they know each other, there are only small talks which are so….ugh. You don’t understand the purpose, the meaning of speaking to someone with a maximum of three sentences. You need a real, authentic, civil conversation about a specific topic that’s worth one’s time. Not just “how are you liking the party?” and “yeah, it’s dope, you?” or other gibberish nonsense.

Sometimes you feel bad for those people because their lives are staler than those crumbs of bread that pigeons feed off.

Chan tips his head back and releases the most obnoxiously loud series of laughter that you have to hold back the urge to kick him off the cruise. “You know you love me,”

“I don’t.”

“If you don’t then why would you dash through the airport like a madwoman just to hug me and tell me those three magic words?”

“Too bad, my brain just refused to recall that memory.”

He grabs your chin and angles it so that you’re directly looking into his eyes, dimpled smile, and all. “Then do I need to interfere and remind you?”

You don’t think you’re gonna make it through tonight if Chan keeps making your chest swell like this.

twelve. You and Chan have decided to change into more casual outfits and ditch the formal ones to strip the awkwardness and tension to a bare minimum. And by ditching, you mean hanging them up nicely so that Jennie won’t strangle you later. It is her dress after all. But you have every right to burn it since it was her idea to lock you up with Chan in a dressing room. Thank God it’s almost the size of her closet. Now, you’re both laying flat on your backs on the navy fuzzy carpet before the white couch, already moved the tiny coffee table away so that you won’t accidentally knock something that costs a fortune over. Kind of insanitary too but you can’t care less.

“Are you hungry?” Chan turns his head and asks you, warm brown eyes twinkling under the dimmed light.

“No,” you shake your head, and as if on cue, your stomach rumbles involuntarily. As Chan bursts into laughter, you quickly cover up your pink cheeks with the palms of your hands, internally groaning in pure agony. “Yes, I am hungry like a normal human being should because it’s already midnight, sue me.” You confess.

If only some of Ryujin’s leftovers were here. This is exactly why you refuse to eat out most of the time. Why bother hiring high-end chefs and having fancy dishes when you’ve already had a roommate who’s born into cooking? God, you miss her spaghetti.

Chan props his head onto one of his arms and looks down at you, a glint of mischief evident in his orbs. “You know what’s a whole fucking gourmet dish? Me,” he peels your hands away from your face with ease, holding onto them tightly to prevent you from smacking his chest.

You roll your eyes at him in the bitchiest way possible, yanking your hands away from his because every touch burns like fire and you’re not letting yourself be vulnerable tonight. If you still remembered some of the moves from the martial art classes that mom forced you into when you were in middle school, Chan wouldn’t stand a goddamn chance. You almost snap someone’s arm in half back then, but those days are long gone.

“You? Please, you’re like those piles of unwanted leftover vegetables that everyone keeps giving away to their most annoying relatives,” you start talking big with no intention of meaning it.

Chan’s not just a single dish, he’s an entire buffet. You could never imagine how it felt like for him to have thousands of letters and notes pouring out from his personal locker when he’s wrapping up for the day. Yeah, a total heartthrob. That’s why all of the dumb bitches on campus would always circle around him during breaks, no matter where he went. You were one of them too, you’re also a dumb bitch. Except, you didn’t need to stalk him, Changbin did all the work for you: inviting you to sit with them during lunch breaks, letting you ride the 4419 home alone with Chan, consistently hinting at Chan about your stupid feelings for him every two seconds,… In all honesty, you should be thanking him but you also want to throw him into a tank full of sharks.

Chan gasps, like audibly gasps as if you’re throwing shade at him, which you totally are. “You’re such an absurd, unreasonable, incongruous, preposterous-“ he pauses midway because he’s already running out of big words for ‘ridiculous’ to call you out on; it takes guts and Oscar-worthy acting to insult his godly appearance and impeccable visual, it really does. “—whatever, doesn’t matter. I know that you’re lying,” he singsongs before pushing himself off the carpet, stretching his limbs tiredly.

You think it’s almost two hours since you’re laying in a single spot, and you’re not risking having any parts of your body paralyzed so you get up, proceeding to do the same thing. “I can’t believe you didn’t have your phone with you,” you throw your hands up in exasperation, careful not to chip one of your nails. Lisa didn’t spend an hour on them for nothing. “And no one is even looking for us! Literally no one!” You can’t exactly blame your chaotic group of friends because they’ve probably fallen asleep since formal parties like these are so damn boring but Chan’s parents not freaking out about their missing son? And his “fiancé” too? That’s oddly concerning.

“You don’t have your phone with you either,” he snickers, hands reaching for the random acoustic guitar in the corner of the room. “I doubt that Lisa or Jisoo’s gonna get us out of here, I don’t even have faith in the two other parts of 3RACHA anymore.”

“What about your fiancé?” You ask him out of the blue, completely ignoring the sudden pang in your chest.

Chan shrugs nonchalantly, strumming some random chords with the instrument. “I broke it off with her, in front of my parents.”

“Cool then-“ you almost choke on your own saliva, “—hold up, did I just mishear you? Did you dump her?! In front of your parents?! What the hell is wrong with you?!” You heave, feeling your heart rate increasing by the nanosecond. Not only did Chan break down the walls you’ve been trying to build, he utterly eliminated the invisible barrier between your life and him (sorry Jaemin), and he knocked down the only obstacle left that’s in his way. Now, imagine two dots with a single line to connect them both. Everything’s as simple as that but your brain is already fried from coming up with one hundred and one ways to move in the slowest way possible.

Chan keeps strumming the guitar in his arms but purses his lips at your particular way of responding to his previous statement. “You know, a ‘thank you’ would be nice. And no, they didn’t disown me. I was like ‘fuck it’, and I told them everything. Not everything-everything, but like everything-everything, you feel me?”

No, I don’t fucking feel you but I can physically feel the shame and agony that’s slowly dawning on me you moron, you think to yourself, inhaling and exhaling deeply to prevent yourself from exploding like a ticking bomb.

“What did they say?”

“They didn’t say anything since they were too…uh, taken aback by the amount of information I guess..”

“Chan, I don’t think you were thinking straight—“

He interrupts you with a sad pout, sticking out his bottom lip. “Why are you talking about my parents and not this guitar?” This man is being ridiculous, as stubborn as a child.

“IT’S A GUITAR! RELAX ABOUT IT!”

“I GOT THIS FOR YOU!” Chan raises his voice slightly to catch you off guard and then sighs deeply. “Felix said you hadn’t played the guitar in years, but you were pretty good at it. So I wanted to surprise you, don’t you like it?”

“Chan, you what?” Your voice grows smaller and smaller until it’s only as audible as a whisper. “You didn’t have to do that- of course I like it! But- it’s just..” You stop talking completely to take a closer look at the acoustic guitar in his hands. It’s made of a reddish-brown type of timber with a satin finish, you can tell that the wood will age well through time and create more depth and warmth to the sound of the instrument. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a guitar, but it’s been way too long since you’ve touched one.

“I- I forgot how to play it after a while..”

Chan throws a wolffish wink in your direction as a reassurance that there wouldn’t be a problem with that. “I can show you how to if you like.”

“Moving too fast, moon is lighting up her skin,” Chan cuts you off softly with his angelic voice, and your heart is stuck in your throat, refraining you from barking back with anything. “She’s falling, doesn’t even know it yet. Heart is beating loud but she doesn’t want it to stop.”

Is he seriously trying to do this by singing a song? A fucking One Direction’s song?

“We’re only getting older, baby. And I’ve been thinking about it lately,” Chan’s voice slowly bleeds into the chorus, and you feel as if all of your pride and dignity have been thrown out the window because you’re completely frozen in your spot when he sits down next to you. Chan smiles throughout the lyrics seeing how you’re looking at him like he’s the only person left in the entire Milky Way, a strange warm sensation bubbling up in his stomach. “Does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes?”

“Everything that you’ve ever dreamt of, disappearing when you wake up,” Chan’s heart does an entirety of an acrobatic routine when he locks his eyes with yours. Seemingly to keep himself together, but the insides just feel like he’s being hung upside down on a tree with blood rushing to his face. This just has to be the cheesiest, sappiest, not-necessarily-scream-CB97 way to confess to someone but fuck it, he still needs to shoot his shot. “But there’s not to be afraid of. Even when the night changes…”

He pauses for a few seconds, “..it will never change me and you..” and finishes off smoothly, embarrassment growing more evident on his cheeks.

What did you tell yourself months ago, Y/N? Aren’t you tired of trying? How are you so sure that he wouldn’t do it again? Haven’t you had enough?

Yeah, you’d never know. And yes, you’ve had enough.

Well, to hell with that.

That’s when everything clicks in place. After all this time, after everything you’ve been through, after everything he’s done, you can finally see why you’ve been chasing him relentlessly knowing damn well that your heart is still in his hands, one wrong move and you’ll be utterly destroyed forever. Nobody compares to Chan. Nobody makes you smile like he does, nobody makes you laugh like he does and nobody makes you cry as hard as he does. It’s almost a truth that’s universally acknowledged that everything has been leading up to this specific moment, your heartbeat comes in sync, and two completely different worlds collide with each other.

You almost lost yourself all the way to him, but in him, you also found the way back to you. And how do you argue with the algorithm of falling for someone when the entire universe has conspired for the both of you to be together since forever?

“Uhm…so what-“

Before he can even finish his sentence, you abruptly grab a fistful of his hoodie and yank him towards you. Chan physically feels shivers run up his spine when your hand automatically interlocks with his, still fits like a glove. You kiss him with such desperation and tenderness it makes him feel as if you’ve been wandering this celestial sphere by yourself in the past century, yet he’s always had your heart. And he lets himself trust you with his in your hands once again because this is only the beginning. The paths ahead might not always be peaches and cream, but if it’s with you, he’s willing to stick with you ‘till the very end of it.

You’re the first one to break the kiss, managing to talk between short breaths. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Chan shakes his head and laughs breathlessly, wearing a dimpled on his face, “Nothing, I was just wondering if you’d take me back after everything.”

“After everything?” You merely chuckle when tiny bits of confusion in his orbs soon disintegrate into stardust, floating through the galaxy for eons. “A million times over, I will still choose you and let you rip my heart in half if that’s what it takes for me to stay by your side.”

Chan feels like he’s floating in midair, head all fuzzy and moonstruck. “Actually though…can I kiss you again?”

“And then nap time?” You let out a big yawn, making Chan toss his head back, laughing wholeheartedly.

“And then nap time,” he agrees, gingerly pulling you in by the waist while trying to stop himself from picturing the smirk on BamBam’s face when he opens the door in the morning.

Likewise, BamBam indeed opens the door to the dressing room early in the morning to make a move on his cleanup duty before Chan’s parents have a cardiac arrest. His smirks can’t possibly grow any wider when he sees you cuddle closely to Chan, palms resting on his chest while his hands are locked on your waistline. And BamBam sighs in relief because thank goodness he did shoot his shot.

#stayshub #stray kids scenarios #skzwritersclub #rich kids au #bang chan fanfic #chan fic #chan x reader #kim woojin #seo changbin #lee felix #yang jeongin #han jisung #kim seungmin #hwang hyunjin #lee minho #na jaemin #kim jennie

[aclosetfan]

if you are still taking prompts

may i suggest

“he focused the sound of her feet walking towards him. damn, he is so fucked”

@over-under-through1 (Lol you don’t even have to request stuff btw, Id literally just write stuff for you b/c youre so nice)

I thought of a few ways I could go with your prompt, but everything was coming up either hella boring or too predictable. I can’t say I’m too happy with what I wrote, but I know you like the greens so I settled on fleshing out a scene from a never written fic about Bubbles and Boomer’s engagement, and Bubbles forcing their families to meet (against Boomer’s recommendation). The twist is that everyone already knows each other, and unsurprisingly, no one likes their bridal party counterpart. (no powers au)

For the sake of context: Butch and BC are both the kid-siblings in this story. They know each other because they go to the same high school. Butch is one strike away from being sent back to juvie, and BC has the incredible (self-imposed) pressure of living up to her amazingly successful older sisters. Prior to the blue’s engagement, none of the green’s interactions had been particularly positive b/c Butch is considered a bully and BC’s best friend (only friend) Elmer is often bullied. BC’s personality is very closed off and Butch thinks she’s creepy. (lol I could go on forever about the potential outline of this story, but this is enough for a dumb excerpt)  

 -------

Prompt: He focused on the sound of her feet walking towards him. Damn, he was so fucked.

Summary: Butch needs a hero, he’s holding out for a hero—wait no, not that one! He wants another hero; he’s holding out for literally any other hero. Buttercup would just like one night of normal jogging.

Pairings: greens (but not romantic more like the very, very beginning of a positive relationship)

Genre: friendship/action

Rating: like 18+ for language and violence; t/w: thinly veiled sexual harassment (just threats, NO action—located towards middle) My warning/rating is just precautionary. Honestly, didn’t write anything that wouldn’t be shown on TV.  

He was slammed against the fence by the scruff of his collar, and it was the first time that night that Butch thought, maybe, things weren't going to work out in his favor. "Come on, guys." He coughed, still recoiling from the punch to his gut, "Three of you, one of me? You may want to call the rest of your friends over and make it a fair fight."  

The smart and playful banter was neither appreciated nor reciprocated, as another jab connected with his stomach. He gagged, and they allowed him to drop to his knees.

 "What?" He coughed, as bile burned the back of his throat, "Skipping the dirty talk? Got somewhere better to be?"

"Do you ever sssshut up?" Snake, one of Ace's fave little goblins, growled.

"My incredible wit is half my charm, and you want me to s-s-s-sssshut up?" Butch argued back, mocking Snake's ever-present lisp. It wasn't the smartest move, but the way Snake's face contorted into something uglier, Butch believed his inability to keep his fucking mouth shut had been worth it. Snake kicked him fully to the ground and pinned him there. Face smooshed in the dirt, he cursed at them, and Snake pulled his hair, peeling his head off the pavement.

"What you sssay, kid?" He hissed.

"I said," Butch spit, "how's it feel to finally be the guy on top?"   

Snake smashed his head down hard onto the pavement, and Butch saw a wave of stars.

"Piece of sssshit!"

"Takes one to know one, right?" He groaned as his vision became less and less spotty.

"I jussst," Snake chuckled, "I jussst can't fucking wait to sssee you get taken out."

"Like murder? Or on a date, because, like, you're not my type."

That earned him a punch to the back.

"Ssshut the fuck up, man!" Snake huffed, shoving his face back into the dirt.

"Fuck thisss kid." Snake said to the other two idiots, "Billy, hold him down. I'm gonna get Ace. Tell him we found him."  

Butch tried to break away, as soon as Snake had let him go, but Big Billy, the biggest, dumbest, motherfucker that Ace probably kept around for his size and his size alone, stomped down on his back, replacing Snake, and effectively keeping Butch in his place on the concert.

"Yeah! That's right, pillow princess! Run home to daddy!" Butch barked after Snake's fleeing form, before a foot connected with his head. This time his abuser wasn't Snake or even Billy. No, this painful encounter was best accredited to Grubber. Grubber was another one of Ace's favorite minions. He was a short ugly man who, Butch swore, was suffering from some thyroid disease that made his ugly eyes bulge.

Butch couldn't tell if Grubber was dumb or smart. Butch couldn't even tell if Grubber was human. He looked more like the reanimated corpse of a dog-troll with the way he hunched and let his tongue lull out of his mouth. Regardless, the guy haunted his nightmares.

Butch let his head drop back to the ground in a daze and cried out when Billy applied more and more of his weight onto his back with a giggle. Butch was sure he'd end up snapping in half.

Mentally, he pleaded with the universe for a miracle. He had never been much of a believer in anything before. He figured when he died, he'd just die. Really nothing more to it. What he had not figured on, in all of his existential wonderings, was his death taking place in the middle of an abandoned McFatties parking lot, and frankly, he found the whole ordeal a little unfair. An abandoned McFatties parking lot was possibly one of the worst places he could think of to die in, and that was coming from him, a kid who had been forced to visit the state of Ohio once. So, mentally, he pleaded with the universe for a miracle.

"Hey!" A voice cried out, and because he was 99.9% sure he knew that voice, Butch filled with even more dread, taking back his pleas to the universe that had only happened mere seconds ago. He actually didn't need a miracle. He needed the sweet release of death.

Please. Please. The Death. Please! Not this! I don't want this! He mentally chanted, Death, death, death!

"Duuuh, hello?" Billy asked the parking lot, and Butch lifted his head a bit to get a look. When no one presented themselves, Grubber and Billy shared a look before shrugging, and they continued to bounce on his back until a brick sailed through the air and hit Grubber on his head. The shock of it caused Grubber to bite down on his tongue, and he cried out in pain.

"Grubber?" Billy asked, his voice thick with worry.

"Get off that guy!" The “mystery” voice rang out, and another brick flew through the air and hit Billy on the shoulder.

Big Billy stumbled off of him and looked around, "Who threw that!"

"Go!" The voice was closer, and Butch could hear the sound of running, "I'll call the police!"

The threat was enough for Grubber, who was still clutching his mouth. He grabbed Big Billy by the shirt, and they took off.

"We're telling!" Billy cried out like a five-year-old as another brick made contact with his back, "We're gonna tell on you!"

"Yeah! Keep running!" The "stranger’s" running came to a halt a little away from him, and yep, he 100% knew that voice. He groaned, his eyes screwing shut with pain, as he laid out on the pavement. He focused on the sound of her feet walking towards him and groaned again. Damn, he was so fucked.

"Shit are you ok—wait, Butch?" Buttercup asked, barely masking her surprise.

"Don't tell my brothers." He cracked an eye open when he felt her standing over him.  

"I could care less." She scoffed at his weak begging, "Are you dying?"

He flexed and wiggled, but besides some major bruising, he seemed to be functioning well enough.

"Like," he grimaced, "not physically."

There was a shout, and Buttercup bristled above him. "Good enough, now get up," She huffed, yanking him up and his knees locked in pain.

"I take it back." He bent over, clutching his stomach, "I take it back, I'm dying."

"They were over here, bosssss!" The Snake called from around the corner.

"Well, now's not the time." Buttercup hissed at him and threw one of his arms over her shoulder to help drag him along, "I'm really gonna need you to get your shit together."

"Give me a minute." He hissed back, gritting his teeth, as he tried to get his legs to corporate, "Internal damage doesn't just fix itself. I don't have fucking superpowers."

"Consider getting some," She huffed back as they hobbled along in the shadows, ducking into a random alleyway.

He scoffed, "What are you even doing here?"

"What are you even doing here?" She echoed as they exited the alley and took a random right. She was moving them towards a bus stop. The street lamps shone over the bus stop bench like a spotlight, and the seat sang to him like a siren. His head was still reeling from the blow Grubber had dealt, and sitting down was exactly what he needed to stop the world from spinning.

"Touché." He said after a moment. Her business was her business. His was his. He was fine keeping it that way.

They made it to the bench, and Buttercup set him down. He slumped, holding his head in his hands as she paced around, peering into the shadows that the bus stop lights couldn't reach.

"Buses aren't coming anymore." He mumbled, and she looked back over at him with a frown, "Obviously, I know that."

"Then can you stop pacing.” He demanded, “You're giving me a headache."

"I'm giving you a headache?" She scoffed, "Listen, get up. We need to get somewhere with more people."

She was right; he knew that. The street they were on was desolate. They were still too far from both the City's hustle and bustle and the neighborhood cop patrols in the outlining suburbs. This was an awesome no-man land for shitheads like Ace and Co. to hangout.

At the same time, though, it hurt to move.

"Are you suggesting we run away?" He snorted, putting on a brave face, "Not my style, cupcake."

"Don't call me that." She shot back without missing a beat, "And I'd say this is more of a tactical retreat. I can't spend the rest of the night saving your ass. There are better things to do to waste my time with."

He stood up with the full intention to say something witty and badass back, but he moved too quickly and swayed. Little black dots filled his vision, and he plopped right back down onto the bench with a grimace.

"Five more seconds," He ended up spitting out as he gripped his head in his hands.  

"Okay, for real, are you going to be okay?" Buttercup asked, kneeling in front of him, "Your head's bleeding."

He brought a hand to his forehead and tried to swallow the wince as his fingers brushed the wound. He frowned and examined the blood on his hands, "Well, that explains a few things."

She frowned back at him, "You could have a concussion. We need to get help."

"Probably not." He waved away her concern, cracking a smile, as he thought back to a particular conversation they had had in the school cafeteria not too long ago, "I've been told I've got a thick head."  

She opened her mouth to retort, but somewhere in the shadows, there was a scuffle, like the sound of a can being kicked, that made her snap her mouth shut. She stood, whipping her head in every which direction looking for something terrible to appear.

"You're gonna have to walk faster." She looked back at him, "You're too heavy to carry."

"Excuse me, ma'am, it's not very polite to comment on a person's weight."

Buttercup glared down at him, "Do you really think right now is the best time to be a smart-ass?"

"Yes, in fact, I do. It's how I cope, thanks."

"You cope with humor?" Buttercup blinked with a dry stare, "Why?"

"Well, Ms. Doom-and-Gloom, I know this may be hard for you of all people to understand, but laughter is the best medicine."

"No," She snorted, rolling her eyes, "I'm aware. I just don't get how it works for you since, you know, you're not funny."  

Butch opened his mouth to retort, but a hand shot out of the shadows and gripped Buttercup by the shoulder. She gasped in surprise, and he shot up a little straighter, ignoring his headache.

"Gotta say, Butcie-pal, I agree with the girl. I neva thought you were too funny either." Ace leered, "Who's ya pretty little friend, anyway, hmm? I don't think we've ever been introduced."

"Oh," Buttercup grimaced, shaking her head as she flicked Ace's hand from her shoulder, "no. No. Touching me won't be necessary."

"Fancy seeing you here, Ace." He gritted out through a forced smile, "A little birdy told me you got out of the joint early."

"Good behavior." Ace's face split into an equally condescending smile, "Did ya miss me, kid?"

"I've been countin' the seconds, buddy."

"Wait, Ace?" Buttercup's eyes went wide with recognition, "The Ace? From the Gang Green Gang?"

"The very same." Ace winked down at Buttercup, his sunglasses slid down his face as he checked her out, "I see my reputation proceeds me."  

Buttercup ignored Ace, and whipped back around to glare at him, "Seriously, Butch? You were fighting with the Gang Green Gang?"

He rolled his eyes, "Oh, I'm sorry, did I not get around to telling you that, Buttercup? I've been a bit preoccupied."

"Buttercup?" This time Ace froze with recognition, and jabbed a slim, long finger in Buttercup's face, "Now, hold on. I know you."

Buttercup's lips pursed as she hit his hand away, "No, no, you don't."

"Yes, yes, I do." Ace continued to wag his finger in her personal space, "You're that prissy prosecutor's sister, ain'tcha, the one who had the pleasure of locking me up for three years?"

Buttercup's eyes darted over to Butch before going back to Ace, "Can't say exactly. The City has a lot of prosecutors."

Ace's face broke back out into a smile, "Yeah, yeah. I remembers seeing you in the paper, right next to ya sista."  

Buttercup frowned, "Not ringing any bells."

"Aw, come on, don't play dumb with me. We're all friends here. Your sister, she's the one with the red hair, wears a ribbon, funky eyes. What was her name again? Tulip? Rose?" He snapped his fingers in though a few times, "Something floral."

"Blosssssom?" Snake suggested from behind.

"Ah!" Ace's smile grew, "Blossom! Yes! Thank you, Snake!" He grabbed Buttercup by the shirt and dragged her close. Practically nose to nose with her, he smirked, "Ringing any bells now?"

"Just a few." She glowered, no longer feigning cluelessness.

Ace threw his head back with a laugh, "This is the night that just keeps giving, boys! We've caught this shitbag." He jabbed a finger back at him on the bench, "And now we've got Blossom's pretty little sister to play with." He pulled her closer by the sleeve of her shirt, smashing her against his chest, "The only thing that would make this better is a beer! You drink, sweetheart?"

Butch scoffed because even though Buttercup was obviously a secret witch necromancer in her spare time, he wasn't a fucking degenerate who enjoyed watching men scaring girls, "Your issue's with me Ace, leave her out of this."

Ace threw Buttercup away, pivoted on his heels, and stalked back over, "Oh, oh, don't worry 'bout nothing Butch. I haven't forgotten about you. Sees after me and the boys get done having a little fun with your girlfriend, I'll be taking care of you."

Butch bristled in sync with Buttercup, "Oh—"

"—no—"

"—Wait!"

"Time out!" Buttercup cried, forming a 'T' with her hands, "I'm—"'

"—She's—"

"—not his—"

"—girlfriend!" They denied simultaneously.

Ace blinked, "I'm threatening both your dignities and your lives, and that's what you're choosing to focus on?"

"Yes!"

"Alright." Ace conceded, shrugging. "Say, fellas, get Butch's. . .acquaintance?" Ace asked, looking at him for confirmation.

"Eh, sure—" He conceded with a shrug, as Buttercup huffed from behind Ace, crossing her arms.

"—I wouldn't even say that."

"Yeah, okay then," Ace corrected himself, ignoring Buttercup, "Fellas, get his acquaintance nice and ready for me while I have a few words with the kid. Don't rough her up too much, though. You know how I like to work with a clean canvas."

"Ssssure thing bossss,"

"Oh, hell, no." He heard Buttercup growl, but his view of her was cut off by Ace, who pulled him up by the scruff of his collar. The adrenaline was pumping once more through his veins, so this time, standing at least didn't hurt.

"Seriously, dude, I don't think you wanna fuck with me like this." He threatened, but even he knew how empty it sounded.

"Seriously, dude," Ace mocked with a smile, "I don't think I give a fuck. Gotta admire your balls, though, kid. Takes a lot of guts to talk to me like that."

"What's your fucking deal anyway? I did what you asked for, I—"

Ace, a cheap bastard who fought dirty, kneed him hard in the groin. Butch let out a strangled gasp, and Ace laughed, letting him drop to the ground.

"It's that fucking mouth of yours." Ace answered, squatting down to get in his face. His breath smelt like cigarettes, weed, and rat piss, "Anyone ever told you it ain't becoming cussing in front of your elders all the time?" Ace reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a pack. Taking a cigarette, Ace offered it up, "Want one?"

"I don't smoke." He replied curtly. It was a semi-lie. He smoked. He just wasn't an avid cigarette smoker. Considering his family, though, he did, in fact, fancy himself a professional second-hand smoker. Brick chained-smoked. Boomer was always in a perceptual state of "I'm quitting tomorrow." Mojo could typically be found puffing on some pipe or cigar. And HIM was more of a social smoker, but a smoker nonetheless, since he liked using the cigarette sticks that made him look like Audrey Hepburn too much not to smoke.  

If he died, Butch had always figured, it'd be lung cancer that took him out.

"That's smart." Ace nodded, chuckling, "It's shit for ya anyway, but what vice isn't, right?"

Butch watched Ace wearily as he searched around for his lighter. The pain in his groin had subsided into a dull ache, but he stayed on the ground. With Ace, he had to play it smart. Five against one weren't numbers in his favor, and there was Buttercup to consider, unfortunately. The little priss was probably scared shitless.

Ace flicked his lighter on a few times before it caught light and puffed his cigarette for a moment. Finally, he looked back down at Butch and exhaled a cloud of smoke in his face. It didn't bug Butch, but Ace seemed to think it was pretty funny.

"Now, kid, these manner problems you seem to be still having, I think, you know, that someones gotta teach you a thing or two. Seems like your shitbag brothers ain't doing too good a job, huh?"

"Don't talk to me about my brothers."

"Yeah?" Ace smiled, the cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth, "And whatcha gonna do, huh, do I gotta remind you about the position youse in?" Ace stood up and kicked his foot hard into Butch's gut. Again, he lost the air in his lungs.

"Fuck you." He coughed, and Ace shook his head.

"See again with the cussing." Ace sighed, "Figured since your brothers are too good for us now, that they'd do a little better by you, but I guess somethings neva change. Once a rat, always a rat, right?"

Butch opened his mouth to retort, but the commotion behind Ace caught his attention. Ace didn't seem to notice as he continued to lecture Butch on manners, respect, and a bunch of other things gang-bangers seemed to believe they automatically deserved. Through the gaps of Ace's legs, he watched as Grubber hit the ground hard.

His eyes widened as Buttercup swooped in on the fallen man, stomping down onto his back to keep him still. The taser in her left hand sparked to life as she spun around and lodged the offending weapon into Snake's neck. Snake cried out and made a swipe for her arm, but she ducked down, invading his hold. Squatting on the ground, Buttercup jabbed the taser into Snake's crotch, and the noise he made was finally enough to get Ace's attention.

"Wha—" Ace started, his sunglasses sliding down his nose in shock. Butch probably didn't look any better.

Buttercup ignored Snake's pleas for mercy and kicked his feet out from under him. He collapsed to the ground, still holding himself in his hands, and Buttercup smirked. Using her hands to launch herself into the air, she flipped away from Big Billy, who had been clambering up behind her, without a second glance. Billy’s nose was already bleeding, and based on the feral way Buttercup was taking the gang out, Butch would have placed money that a good headbutt had caused it.

Billy was too slow for Buttercup. Butch didn't have a clue where Arturo was, but if she kept bolting, he was pretty sure she had a clean and clear shot out of danger's way. To his surprise, though, Buttercup didn't run away. After landing her flip, she slid to a halt and turned back towards Billy. Squatting down low, like a sprinter, she took off back towards him at top speeds. Butch knew Buttercup was fast since she was always running everywhere like a madwoman, but he didn't think she could go that fast. She was on a high-speed collision course with Billy, a guy four times bigger than her, and it was the first time in his life that Butch had ever seen her smile like that.

Billy was ready for her, though. His arms were opened up wide as he got ready to grab her. Butch almost called out to her in warning, but instead, he watched in astonishment as she collided with Billy at a nearly perpendicular angle. She jumped slightly up before impact and threw her weight down onto Big Billy, using her shoulder to break his block and knock him off balance. The force of her momentum caused the big guy to stumble off to the side. He cried out in surprise as he tried to steady himself, but Buttercup didn't give him a chance. Like Snake, she dropped to the ground so that she could kick his unsteady feet from out underneath him. And like on Snake, it was quite effective.

Billy hit the ground with a loud crash and Buttercup stood over him, clapping the dust off her hands as she shot Ace a look.

Butch shared a bewildered look with Ace for a moment, before they both turned back to the fight.

"Billy!" Ace cried out, "Get up, you lug!"  

Billy didn't get up, but he did start crying, and Butch laughed, "Ah, come on Ace, the bigger they are, the harder they fall, right?"

Ace glowered at him and called out to both Snake and Grubber, who both, in turn, moaned from their spots on the ground.

"Arturo!" Ace shouted, "Where the fuck are you?"

"Here, boss!" Arturo cried, sprinting out of the shadows and towards Buttercup with a battle cry. He lunged for her, but Buttercup seemed unfazed as she reached into her hoodie and pulled out a can. She sprayed whatever it was into Arturo's face, and he dropped mid-lunge to the ground with a horrible cry. She sprayed his face two extra times for good measure and then pocketed the can of mace like it was as unimportant as Chapstick.

She whipped her head back around towards them and again shot Ace a death glare.

"Holy shit." Butch blinked and then let out another short laugh, looking back up at Ace, "Like damn, dude, you're so fucked."  

Ace balked, taking a few steps back. He began to root around in his pockets before pulling out a switchblade and flicking it open, "Don't take another step!"

Buttercup brushed some dirt off her jacket as she continued to advance, "What, Ace? Is the canvas not clean enough for you?"

Without his lackey's, Ace trembled with fear, "I said, not another move."

"Cute knife," Buttercup shrugged, nonplussed, as she reached back into her pocket, "Wanna see mine?"

Ace looked between the two of them, as Butch began to find his footing once more, then at his fallen minions. He dropped his hands and backed further away.

"This ain't over!" He sneered and took off running.

Buttercup pulled her hand out of her pocket, sans knife, and dropped to her knees to inspect him.

"Do you just piss everyone off for fun?" She asked, helping him up.

"Something like that," he shrugged.

Behind them, Billy began to groan as he attempted to pick himself off the ground. Buttercup's eyes went wide.

"Let's go." She hissed and pushed him into a run. She pulled him along for a moment as she ran before letting him go and taking off on her own. He tried his best to keep up, but the beating he had been put through quickly caught up with him. He slowed to a stop and watched her disappear into the distance. Taking a few deep, heavy breaths, Butch bent over and put his hands on his knees.

In. Out. Wince. In. Out. Wince.

He wanted to call out to Buttercup, but she was long gone, and, for once, he couldn't find his voice. 

What a fucking night, though, he ended up thinking to himself. 

There was nothing else that the world could throw at him that would surprise him at this point.

But right on cue, the world took him up on that because immediately after he spoke the challenge into existence, red and blue lights flashed behind him. A cop car chirped, its siren turning on and off once to get his attention. Butch slumped further down with a sigh, because of fucking course. He should have known better.

Jumped and thrown back into juvie all in one night—it was a new personal record! He couldn't wait to hear the opinions his family would have. With another heavy sigh, he threw his hands into the air and turned around to face the officer since he wasn't too particularly keen on adding "racially profiled and shot in the back" to his long list of shitty sob stories.

"Well, well." The officer stepped out of his car, but Butch couldn't see which one since the officer had neglected to turn off the headlights shining right in his face, "What do we have here?"

He kept quiet because he knew his fucking rights. The cop stalked up to him and blinded him with a flashlight. He didn't quite understand why that had been necessary given the patrol car's headlights, but cops were a different breed of stupid in this City.

"Now, if it isn't the most illustrious Butch Jojo. I've heard about you, kid."

Butch grunted back.

"Hmm, not much of a talker?" The cop asked conversationally, and Butch twitched with annoyance. He didn't get why everyone—especially adults—always wanted to do the small talk bullshit.

"That's fine. I'll get to the point—" Butch already knew he actually wouldn't, "—where are you coming from looking like that?" The cop flashed his flashlight up and down, emphasizing the tears and bloodstains on his clothes. "Are you aware of a robbery that took place on 5th tonight?"

Butch seized up, knowing exactly what the cop was implying. "That's like forty minutes from here on foot!" He protested.

"I wasn't asking for directions, son."  

"I don't know anything about a robbery on 5th." Butch spat back, and the cop's mouth curled into a sneer.

"Then, care to explain what you were running from?"

Taking a deep breath, Butch glared at the officer, "I don't have to say anything."

The cop chuckled, "Well, maybe you'll change your mind at the station."

"What!" Butch yelled, "I—"

"—Calm down, kid, I'm not playing games!"

"Wait, officer, wait! He's with me." Buttercup ran forward, reappearing from the shadows and linking their arms together. Slightly, she pulled him away from the officer and his blinding lights, "I was showing him the loop I run, and he tripped. I—I was doubling back to bring him a—uh, a bandaid?" She (poorly) lied.

"Buttercup Utonium?" The cop blinked, and she offered a strained smile.

"Hey, Officer Smith."

The officer's face contorted, and he jabbed the end of his flashlight toward Butch's face, "He's with you?"

"Uh, yeah." Buttercup shrugged, stepping slightly in front of him like a barrier, "His brother is engaged to my sister."

The officer lowered the flashlight and blinked in surprise, "Blossom's engaged? I just saw her the other day."

"Not Blossom." Buttercup shook her head, "Bubbles."

"Bubbles! Engaged?" The officer exclaimed, blowing air from his lips, "Time flies! I remember you being this tall—" He indicated a little past his knee, "—when your sister starting working for the Prosecutor."

Buttercup nodded her head, curtly, "Yep."

The officer smiled at her and reholstered his flashlight, "Well, you tell Ms. Bubbles I said congrats, ya hear me?"

"Alright, no problem." Buttercup nodded again, nudging into him, so he'd start backing away. The officer shot him a quick look before turning back to Buttercup. "And you keep this one in line, ya hear me." He told her as he wagged a finger in his direction. "It's about time you found some decent friends to hang out with." Officer Smith lectured, staring him down, before he addressed both of them, "Now, it's past curfew, you two need to head home."

Butch kept his mouth screwed shut, but Buttercup seemed to read his body language loud and clear because she threw him a nasty look before turning back to the officer.

"Sure, sorry, Officer Smith, we lost track of time." She apologized to the officer as she elbowed him into walking away, "I'll tell my sisters you said hi."  

"Goodbye, Buttercup." The officer waved as he made his way back to his patrol car. "Butch." The officer nodded at him, giving him the once over again.

 He rolled his eyes, turning away. "Fucking cops." He grunted, but when he looked over to his right, Buttercup was gone. "Hey, where—" He spun around looking for her, only to find that she was practically halfway down the block, "—Hey!"  

Ignoring how sore he was, he jogged after her. She didn't bother to look at him as he knocked into her.

"Okay, three things—" He started, as he kept in step with her, and Buttercup heaved a heavy sigh. "One, how do you three know everyone in this fucking city?"

She shrugged, "Just do."

"Two, why do you just have a taser and mace on hand?"

"Because I'm a teenage girl, and I run at night."

"Yeah, soooo…"

"Sooo," Buttercup emphasized slowly with a dry look, "sex trafficking, rape. Teenage girls always seem to be a pretty hot commodity. Recent events should have probably tipped you off to that."  

Butch stopped dead in his tracks for a moment and blinked, dumbfounded, "Oh right. Cause you're a chick. I, like, forgot about that."

"Yep." She agreed over her shoulder since she hadn't stopped to wait for him to process the obvious.

He jogged to catch up with her with a nod, "Guess that's smart then."

"Guess so." She muttered back and took a sharp left down a pathway he hadn't even known existed.

"And three," He slowed them down, rubbing the back of his neck, "uh, thanks, I guess, for back there."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

Buttercup looked past him towards where the cop car had been and then back at him with a shrug, "Don't mention it. Like, seriously, don't."

He nodded, and she turned away, going back to fast walking speed. He stumbled after her.

"So, where we going?"

"I'm going home. I don't know where you're going."

"Going home?" He repeated.

"Yep."

"But why—how! You can't just go home! Not after all that shit back there!" He speculated out loud, "Aren't you, like, pumped up?"

She sighed, "Nope. Are you going to keep following me?"

"Buttercup." He huffed, running in front of her to block her way, "dude, that shit back there was fucking badass, and I don't say that kind of shit lightly. I don't know whatever fucking voodoo god you're praying to every night, but it's working. You gotta—" he scrambled for anything his mind could come up with, "—you gotta, like, at least get something to eat with me for like, like, closure."

Buttercup stared up at him, her eyebrows pulling together, "Did…did you just ask me to hang-out?" She paused before clarifying, "With you?"  

"Uhhh…" He frowned, his own eyebrows pulling together as he mulled over his previous statement, "huh?" He shrugged, "I guess I did."

Her frown deepened, and she pushed past him, "You should probably go to the hospital. Thick head or not, it was obviously hit a lot harder than you've let on."

He snorted and turned around to catch up with her, "I think I'm serious, though."

She looked him over again, "Seriously, you're starting to freak me out. Should I call 911?"

They made it out of the alley and emerged near a little corner before Townsville blended into the surrounding Pokey Oak County. There, like a beacon in the night, was Pops, a burger joint that he liked.

"Ha!" He proclaimed, pointing towards the 24/7 diner, "Come on!" He grabbed her by the elbow and began to drag her with him.

"Hey!" She protested, digging her heels into the ground as she tried to wriggle out of his grasp, "Cut it out!"

"Listen. We're getting a burger, whether you like it or not. Brick's treat."

She stopped her struggling and a raised eyebrow, "Your brother's paying?"

He rolled his eyes with a smirk before he pulled his older brother's debit card that he had stolen earlier that night from his back pocket and waved it in the air, "Duh."

She looked back over her shoulder towards the direction of her home, then over again towards him and the burger joint, "Welllll, if he's paying," She hummed, shrugging, "sure, why the hell not."

He laughed and dropped her elbow, "Good choice, Butterfingers, let's go."

 ---------------------

 I’m sorry if you hate it—I know the pacing’s a bit off and my dialogue punctuation needs work, but it’s been a crazy few days lmao and I just wanted to get this out ☹ if it’s absolute shit let me know and I’ll try writing you something else! Also, the body slam BC used on Big Billy is a move Jammers use in roller derby to get past blockers because, hint, in this world BC is “secretly” in roller derby. ((“Secretly” because her fam and Elmer knows, but no one else.)) I just suck at action scenes so it doesn’t come across well

#ppg prompt requests #my writing

[cas-lost-grace]

N! Dean and Cas, please!!!

Do 1800 words count as a minific?

N. The color green.

“Nah,”Castiel shakes his head as his sister turns around, the dress she’s trying ontwirling around her. 

“But the color goes so well with my hair!” shesays and pouts

“I hate green,” Castiel murmurs.

“Why?” she asks walking back to the fittingroom.

“Hospital gowns are green.”

“So is grass!” she calls through the curtain.“And grass is good.”

The walls in his first foster home were green too. Annadoesn’t know that. He met her in his last home, the third one, the lesshorrible.

“Yeah, grass is good,” he grumbles.

“My date’s eyes are green!” she says excitedlyas she appears in a new dress. This one is yellow.

“You know I still don’t like the idea of you goingout with a stranger.”

She rolls her eyes. “He’s not a stranger. We’ve beentexting for a while.”

“Do you realize how easy it is to pretend you aresomebody else?”

She sighs heavily. “Fine, you won!”

“You’re going to cancel the date?” He feelssimultaneously relieved and guilty. It’s not like he doesn’t want her to find anice guy, he’s just worried she might get hurt while searching.

“No, but you can come with me.”

“What?”

“You can go to the restaurant with me and sit atanother table and check him out yourself.”

It’s crazy. But it’s also perfect.

“That… that would work.”

She beams at him. “Okay! Now the dress! What do youthink?”

“I think it’s great,” he smiles back.

“You think he’ll like it?”

“If he’s not an idiot, he’ll be stunned by yourbeauty.”

Anna claps her hands and runs back behind the curtain tochange back into her own clothes.

“You should try it too, you know?”

“What? The dress? I don’t think it would complimentmy figure.”

She snorts. “I mean the dating app, dumbass.”

“No.”

“Why? You could find somebody like Dean foryourself. Someone who knows how to live. Someone who would make you lessgrumpy.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

She pushes the curtain to the side to give him askeptical look. “Sure, you’re a beam of sunshine.”

“Exactly. Let’s go or we’ll be late for your date.”

_____

Castiel is almost as nervous as if it was his own date.He’s sitting in a corner where he has a nice view of Anna’s table, but he’s farenough to not be suspicious.

Anna spent the rest of the day telling him about Dean,about how he travels and how he pursued his dream and started his own businessrestoring vintage cars, how he takes cooking lessons so he can cook alldifferent kinds of cuisine and how he designs his own tattoos. Cas is actuallycurious to see the man. He sounds kinda perfect so he must be a sham.

Anna fixes her hair for the thousandth time. Cas checkshis clock. Dean still has a few minutes.

A waitress comes to his table and Cas orders a drink.When she leaves and stops blocking his view, there’s a man standing by Anna’stable and shaking her hand.

He’s painfully handsome, dressed with rugged elegance,tall and muscular. He says something and Anna laughs. She looks charmed andCastiel understands.

He spends the date watching Dean. He orders the firstthing on the menu and doesn’t even register what it tastes like. He drinks somewine but it tastes bland.

He’s fascinated by Dean, by the way his plump lips movearound words, by his eyes sparkling with interest, by the tattoo peeking out ofhis rolled-up sleeve.

He supposes the date goes well, Anna laughs a lot andsmiles and twirls her hair around her fingers like some girls do when they’reflirting.

Startledby the fact that Dean’s asking the waitress for a bill, Cas checks his watchand realizes it’s been almost two hours and he feels like he could spend daysjust like that.

Anna excuses herself and heads towards the bathroom, Casasks for his own bill and starts rummaging through his bag for his wallet.

“Did you enjoy the view?” a deep voice makeshim look up and Castiel’s heart stops when he sees Dean leaning on his hands onCas’ table so their faces are almost on the same level.

“I- I-” Cas stutters, absolutely at loss ofwhat he should say to save the situation.

“You know at first I thought you were watching mygirl and I was ready to punch you in the face, but then I realized you wereactually staring at me the whole time. Now I’m not sure if I shouldstill punch you in the face for being a creep or if I should give you mynumber.”

Castiel’s mouth falls agape and he blinks in disbelieve.He must look like an idiot.

“Cas?” Anna says over Dean’s shoulder. Castielcloses his eyes and heaves a deep breath hoping he might wake up from thisnightmare or get struck by lightning or anything thatwould end this awkwardness.

“Cas?” Dean repeats after her. “So this isthe brother you talked about? The one that should start to live a little?”he asks with amusement. Castiel opens his eyes to see the soft smile on Dean’sface as he looks at Anna who blushes a little and pushes her hair behind herear.

“Yeah, sorry. He didn’t like the idea of me goingout with a stranger so-” she gestures towards Cas instead of finishing thesentence.

“Oh, I see,” Dean says. Surprisingly, he doesn’tsound offended at all. He turns at Cas again and spreads his arms. “So?What do you think? Am I a serial killer?”

Castiel frowns and crosses his arms on his chest.

“That’s hard to tell. But you seemed to be who youclaimed to be online.”

Dean snorts. He turns his head just slightly in Anna’sdirection, his eyes still on Cas.

“You were right, he needs to loosen up.”

“Yeah,” Anna sighs.

Cas’ frown deepens.

“Okay,” Dean claps, “let’s go then.”He offers his hand to Cas. Castiel stares at it.

“Where?” Anna asks.

“I don’t know. Outside. To live. To enjoy thebeautiful evening. Come on, Cas, I know you secretly want to.” He givesCas the cheesiest wink ever. Cas laughs despite himself.

“I need to pay first,” he protests weakly.

Dean rolls his eyes, produces a twenty from his backpocket and throws it on the table.

“Dealt with, let’s go.” He extends his handtowards Cas again.

Cas’ heart is beating fast when he accepts it. Dean grinsat him and grabs Anna’s hand too. She giggles as Dean leads them out of therestaurant.

It really is a beautiful evening. The air is warm and fresh, the sky is only nowturning dark blue.

They start by obtaining a bottle of wine and drinking itwhile walking even though Cas protest. But it’s hard to say no to someone likeDean, even harder when he pairs up with Cas’ little sister.

They don’t do anything special, just small things. Theyshare a cone of ice cream, rent a scooter and ride it all three of them at thesame time, feed birds and climb trees in the park, sing off-key as Dean plays ona public piano, dance to street performers’ music.

Cas feels lighter than he did in years, maybe ever. Dean’sand Anna’s energy is intoxicating, their laughter contagious, Dean’s hand onthe small of his back makes Cas’ feel dizzy.

Whenthey arrive at the river, they turn quiet, calm in a content way. Dean helpsCas climb on the railing and holds his hand as he walks it like a tightropewhile Anna skips and twirls in her yellow dress on his other side, singingunder her breath, her shoes dangling from her hand.

Cas looks at the river, at the twinkling lights reflectedin the water and sighs. The world really is a beautiful place when you letyourself enjoy it.

His foot slips. He yelps and flails for balance, but he’sfalling.

Dean catches him, his strong arms wrapping around Cas’body.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs into Cas’ hair asCas catches his breath.

“Thank you,” he breathes out and looks up intoDean’s face. His heart gives a hard thud and something flutters in his stomachwhen Dean smiles warmly down at him.

Then Dean lets go of him and averts his eyes. He seems toblush a little when he runs his hand through his hair and speaks.

“I-uhm-I’d like to talk with Anna. Alone. If you don’tmind.”

“Yeah, yes, of course,” Cas stutters, suddenlyfeeling cold even though the weather didn’t change.

He turns and leans against the railing while Dean goesafter Anna. Cas doesn’t look their way, he doesn’t want to see. There’ssomething ugly curling in his belly and he hates himself for feeling like that.

He loves Anna and he’s happy for her. She really deservesa great guy like Dean. But she was also right about Cas needing someone likethat for himself too. Someone who would make him smile, who would teach him tolove the world, even the color green.

As he’s deep in thoughts, he doesn’t notice Anna walkingto him and gets a little startled when she kisses his cheek. “Good night,Cas, don’t screw it up.”

Before he can wrap his head around what she said, sheruns towards the taxi that is standing by the curb.

“What the-?” he mutters as he watches her getin shooting him and Dean a smile and a little wave.

Dean places a hand on Cas’ shoulder to get his attention.

“Cas, look,” he starts softly when Cas, stillutterly confused, turns to him, “I really like your sister, she’s amazingand really beautiful-”

“Then why did you let her go?” Cas asks alittle too sharply. 

Dean frowns a little before he continues.

“She’s amazing, but she… she doesn’t make my heartgo all wild. You know what I mean?”

“Oh-” is all Cas can say. He should feeldisappointed, sorry for his sister, but all he can focus on is the intense gazeof Dean’s eyes and his soft voice.

“Fortunately, I just met someone who’s beautiful andawesome too and they make my heart go totally crazy.” With that, he grabsCas’ hand and presses it against his own chest.

“Oh,” Cas breathes out eloquently as he feelsDean’s quick heartbeat. He knows his heart is beating just as fast as he’sstaring at Dean and his words finally start to make sense.

“Dean-”

“I’m going to kiss you,” Dean says and leanscloser.

Cas jerks his head back at the last moment. “Wait!Did you kiss my sister?”

Dean bristles up. “Of course not! What do you thinkI-” Cas cuts him off by pressing their lips together.

It’s a bit awkward at first, but they soon ease into itand fall in sync.

The kiss is like the whole of their adventurous eveningconcentrated into a few moments. Charming, fun, dizzying, warm and utterlyamazing.

They are breathless when they part. Cas looks Dean in theeyes. They are green. It might be his new favorite color.

Send me a letter and a character and I will write you a minific

#destiel #destiel ficlet #destiel au #first kiss #first meeting #so fluffy #mine #filled prompts #studio-hatter

[watery-lane]

Untitled

Pairing: Modern!Ivar Lothbrok x Reader

Summary: We never grew up, did we?

Warnings: Angst, bad characterization, Ivar has a bigger heart than he should. Cliché?

Words: less than 1K

A/N: Just a little drabble I wrote sleep deprived to let y’all know I’m still alive and that it’ll take a little bit more than sadness and overall dread towards existence for my brain to ruin my life.

Also, I’m writing this on my phone so I don’t have the taglist here, will tag you guys when I get a hold of my laptop

“Hold on,” The voices of your friends resonated against the two walls and half ceiling of the cinema entrance as soon as you opened the door, the whistle of the wind sounding like a melody compared to the orchestra of words in front of you. “so basically you’re saying you would bone a clown.”

“If you put it that way—” a girl hugging herself as she rocked her body back and forth on the spot, rolling her eyes as she protested.

“A demon clown.”

“N—”

“A demon clown that is also a spider.”

“Remind me to not beg for you guys to pick me up after work anymore.” You teased, making them turn their heads to look at you as you reached where they were standing.

“Ah c’mon,” your best friend approached your covered from head-to-toe frame and wrapped one of her arms around you. “Don’t you say you don’t need emotional support after dealing with pre-teens and watching horror films on repeat.”

“I’m more concerned about your cousin’s weird fetishes!” Your roommate shouted, making you turn around to look at your favourite family member who protested and tried to make clear that she was not, in fact, crushing on a clown.

Truth be told, you were not paying much attention to the shenanigans of your girl gang as you kept walking.

You were indeed thinking about clowns, just not the scary or cheerful types.

The Lothbroks were surely a special kind of breed. You were pretty sure they had a cinema room in their penthouse and possibly thousands of films in their streaming services and vintage VHS. Yet they chose to barge into the cinema howling like wolves as your shift started, women stitched to their sides and careless grins on their faces asking for tickets for an old film replay.

It still got you everytime you thought about it and it didn’t help the fact that you had that scene on repeat in your brain: how Hvitserk approached the booth you were comfortably, a polite grin parting his lips as he indicated with his fingers how many tickets they wanted for the night. The tone, warm and restrained, left an odd aftertaste in your mouth as you heard him say your name with the ease of a brush stroke and the unfamiliarity of a burning fire in a bell glass. It was as if you were never strangers, yet you didn’t know enough of each other to call yourselves acquaintances. But it wasn’t that what got you.

It was the hard glance turning soft as you laid your eyes on Ivar, like fire meeting wax. The slight hand wave as he passed the booth the last one, lips perking up as if he was actually happy to see you after all these years.

And after all these years, you felt it again. The invasive feeling of your throat tightening up as your cheeks flushed red and your tummy got dizzy. The unexpectancy itched on your eyes wide open, as you processed little by little what you just experienced.

You were not supposed to feel like this. At least not after all this time, specially after how he treated you and how he left for years after secondary school ended.

See, you were just a kid. You didn’t understand the importance of personality or morality. You simply saw a kid that looked cute, way too busy fighting with his brothers, way too grumpy to deal with anyone else. Yet, you felt like you could understand him. Like you could share yourself with him. And it didn’t take long for the rest of that fancy school to know how you felt about Ivar Lothbrok, the most exhausting kid among his brothers. Soon enough your name was released from every single mouth maliciously, how a clumsy, grant funded plain Jane pinned after the “leftover” Ragnarsson. Even within the Lothbrok clan, you were just a lost child who crushed on one of them. It was not the best time of your life, Ivar Lothbrok himself made sure it wasn’t.

“So I’ve decided to buy the Ouija board and invoke those spirits because my roommate seems to not give a damn about what I say so I might aswell get new flatmates.” You zoomed out, eyes looking forward as you got closer to home. It felt like your feet tingled at the touch of the cold hard pavement, snow crunching under your soles.

“That’s amazing baby.” You mumbled with an absent smile, eyes travelling to the ground as your bundle of old feelings absorbed you into the void again, as if you were passing your fingers over an ugly scar that was starting to reopen. Your roommate sighed.

“Alright, Imma speed up and let you think about your own things. I think there are some hot dog leftovers. In case you want to have them, I’m just telling you that I’m eating them beforehand.” She trembled as she sped up, looking back at you to flash you a cheeky smile under the scarf as you waved goodbye at her with an apologetic look on your face. You did need your me time, though. You didn’t blame her. You still had ten minutes to get home and she wasn’t as heavily dressed as you were.

You gave yourself some time to stop and contemplate how snowflakes fell down to earth swiftly, the light from the closest lamp post making it look like diamonds sparkling in the dark. It made you wonder, whether you were a tiny snowflake too. How you were simply a drop of water at first, slow and steady or fast and destructive, pace marked by your surroundings, always at the same rhythm as the rest. Flowing like a river. Until you started to rise little by little, queen of the clouds as you worked on your arts degree and everything else seemed to be irrelevant enough to be looked down on. It wasn’t until real life came knocking on your palace doors when you found yourself colliding with everything else, hardening as reality rocked you with coldness and wind.

The sight of the youngest Ragnarsson seemed to be a sign that tonight, it was your time to fall down back to earth again.

“Hey!” You heard a faint voice behind you, making you speed up a little bit in fear. “Hey!” It reached your ears again, your breath hitching on your throat as you moved faster, this time holding your handbag tightly. “Penguin!” Your feet stopped responding, stomach way too full of butterflies to command your core to move. You didn’t want to turn around. You couldn’t. “Oh thank the gods, it would have taken me ages to get to you with these crutches and the icy floor.” You heard Ivar speaking to you, not striking any nerve that could make you turn around.

You probably should say something. You probably shouldn’t have stopped, it would have been easier.

“Are you following me?” You responded harshly, finally turning around to find the recipient of your first infatuation. He stopped, just like your breath did the moment you laid your eyes on him.

He was taller, stronger. You saw his hair grew long enough to cover part of his neck, some strands brushing his cheeks as the rest remained high in a bun. And he was walking towards you, making you feel small, weak again. His features were hardened like the bark after years and years thriving in the harsh environment, strong enough to endure anything life put him through. Ivar seemed to have grown a lot. You just hoped he matured enough to let you be.

“If you call ‘dragging my crippled self through the icy snow’ following then yes, I am following you.” He showed you his whitened teeth with a cheeky smile as he approached you.

You pursed your lips, taking a step back as you avoided his eyes. The weather may be cold in Scandinavia, but his eyes were always colder. Ivar sensed your tension, a sour taste filling his mouth as he watched you slipping away slightly.

“Oh.” You mouthed. “That’s cool.” You wanted to punch yourself. ‘That’s cool?’ What the hell was that?

“C’mon penguin, I haven’t seen you in years, how have y—”

“Stop.” You interrupted, raising your hand as you closed you eyes. Ivar stared at you with his head tilted to a side, confusion itched in his brows. “Stop calling me penguin. We’re not kids anymore. It’s not funny. It never was.” You knew you were a disaster of a child, way too clumsy to even walk through the cafeteria without dropping your lunch or bumping into someone else, voice way too harsh and way too loud for someone your age. Just like a penguin.

“Sorry, I thought—”

“Why are you here?” You asked, feeling how your chest tightened as your heart started to beat way too fast for your liking.

“I... I saw you working at the cinema and,” Ivar hesitated, taken aback by your sudden outburst. “I was just wondering how were you doing.” He shook his head.

“I’m... fine.” Your words were soft, reserved. “Thanks for asking.” He nodded.

“Mind if I... huh...” His broad hand slipped into his nape, gloves brushing against his hair and scarf as he scratched. “walk you home?” Your forehead wrinkled as hesitation washed over you, your insides feeling way too tender for him to come back and mess up with your feelings again. Because you knew, you knew that he always knew. That is why he took his time to tease you, that is why you were an easy target for his childish manners. Yet you swallowed your lump, head moving up and down as you retook your steps. Maybe this time he sees how you have got over him. Next to you, Ivar followed, pressing his lips together as he cautiously saved his smile for himself.

The walk was silent, the eyes of the boy with the cheeky smile and hardened glance discreetly watching you as you let your mind wander, the direction of your thoughts driving towards the past this time.

You liked him a lot, way too much at that time. From the way he attentively observed his surroundings to the little signs that showed how smart he truly was, never letting the world swallow his little frame when everybody told him he was not enough.

By the gods, you wanted to cry, the inner corner of your eyes feeling the pressure build as you suppressed your tears. You knew it wasn’t up to him just like it was not up to you, but you wished he felt the same for you. And now you’re ten years older, hoping for the past to hurt you a little bit less, so you could be a proper person to the man who was walking you home.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked with a flat tone, softer than the touch of the snowflakes on your numb skin.

“Doing what?” Ivar asked, eyes contorting as he saw your delicate state. His ribcage seemed to clench at the sight of your lip tremble, eyes crystalized as you refused to lay your eyes on him.

“We were never friends, weren’t we?” You dared to ask, cold tone making Ivar shiver under his thick goose feather coat. “Why did you come after me? Your brothers seem to have left.”

“Well... I did have fun with you.”

“You mean you did made fun of me.”

“Penguin...”

“We’re here.” You cut him off, not sure if you ever wanted to hear his response, thankful that you could now run away and hide in your nest. You two were grown adults now, giving you the reassurance that he would never ever make you feel humiliated again. You were now able to talk back with no consequences. “Thanks. For... walking with me.” You mumbled, letting your eyes wander all over his face one last time, your dilated pupils capturing his parted lips and helpless glance for a brief moment.

“It’s— no problem.” He managed to say, the sound of the door cutting his words short as he took a step back.

Just like in his teenage years, he never figured out how to show people how much they meant to him. After all, his dad never appreciated his vulnerability and the only woman he ever told he loved her laid delicately five feet underground, leaving her four children drifting away from their family legacy.

Guess he never grew up, didn’t he?

#ivar x reader #ivar ragnarsson x reader #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar imagine #ivar ragnarsson imagine #ivar one shot #ivar lothbrok x reader #ivar lothbrok imagine #ivar ragnarsson one shot #ivar the boneless one shot

[holdmyhopeinyourhands]

Female Characters

I’m sorry, but this whole man hating women agenda needs to stop in tv shows. Most shows have stopped actually trying to write legit, well developed, complex female leads because they are trying too hard to cram independent-strong women bullshit narrative down our throats. That’s not all there is to a woman damn it. I’m not always strong and independent. I’m not always brave. Sometimes I’m afraid and there are times I go into the kitchen and make my siblings dinner because they need to eat more than I need to say “fuck the kitchen”. 

Every man I meet isn’t some ugly-meathead who wants to verbally and sexually abuse me and fucking hell, my whole identity doesn’t revolve around fighting them. I love my dad because he’s awesome and I love my brothers because they are amazing and sweet. And I do get annoyed when people lump all men into one category and call it a day. At the same time, it doesn’t stop me from fighting for our choices as women. For the right to dictate what we do with our bodies and for having more women in power. 

Female characters should reflect everyday women. Not whatever cringe-fest invented on screen. Every other sentence out of a woman’s mouth doesn’t have to be about her gender or how much she hates men. It doesn’t have to be witty or sexy or independent sounding. It can just be individualistic. She could want to go to a farther away coffee shop (even though it takes 10 minute extra drive) because she hates the coffee place near her house. She can whine about her wardrobe (not because men keep staring at her) but because she’s outgrown this fashion sense and wants to change it but she doesn’t have the money to do a full overhaul. She could cut her hair awkwardly and stuff a hat over her head because she’s embarrassed and that’s ok, because women can be embarrassed by simple things too. She can cry in a corner when things get too hard. She can fall in love with a guy or a girl and pick herself back up when it doesn’t work out. 

People can see her for her without talking about her gender as some kind of defining trait. God, is it so hard to see that women are more then their gender? That I would rather say “I don’t like that shit so cut it out.” rather then “women don’t like that shit so cut it out.” I don’t fight for my gender every breath of every day and I’m tired of seeing 90% of female characters portrayed as such. Some women want to have kids. Some want to be stay at home moms.Some want to focus on their careers. Some want to never ever have any kids and others aren’t ready. All of those type of women are valid. and wanting to be “feminine” doesn’t mean that those women are trying to drag us back to the dark ages. 

Writers aren’t respecting women when they create character (A) who is tall, beautiful, sexy and can punch a guy with a quippy one linear and a badass pose. Not if that’s all there is to her. Why can’t she have body issues while still being sexy. Why can’t she go to the gym 7 times a week, put in more work then anyone else because she’s worried that if she doesn’t she will fall behind. Why can’t she want to make friends but she’s so terribly shy and hasn’t figured out how to interact with strangers yet so she never takes the first step. Why can’t she make irrational decisions she thinks it right in that moment and apologize for later because it wasn’t. Why can’t she learn from her mistakes and grow as a person. Become better and stronger not because she always was, but because she strove towards it with her own will and grit. 

All I’m saying is that there should be more to female characters then just “strong” and “independent” and honestly, I’m tired of seeing the pandering. It’s try hard, annoying and gets on my nerves. Give me 3 dimensional female characters over those archetypes any day. Being a woman doesn’t mean being a set stereotype. There are many versions of us. So TV shows and movies and other sources of media need to do better.    

#female characters #women #writing #bad writing #stereotypes #strong independent women #tv shows #movies #books #characte #archtypes #female

[i-writeandread-blog]

A Portrait of a Tortured You and I - Chapter 1

Okay, so I know I said Wonderland would be back, and it will be... I promise, but I sat down to write tonight and this is what came out. So sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. This new story is an amalgamation of truth and fiction. Many elements in this are from real life events. A writer writes what they know. So, this is really hard for me to share. I almost didn’t want to. I won’t say what parts are real or aren’t. It doesn’t matter. Just be gentle with my new child is all I ask. Thanks to anyone who reads. This is Chapter 1.

I was standing on the shore waiting for my time to board the ferry to an island- that for the next three days would be known affectionately as Mars Island. I had been through the worst eight months of my life and had shocked myself that I managed to pull off this trip. First, because financially, I was a mess. Second, because I was now terrified everyday. And third, because some of the Echelon had been unkind to me, during some of my darkest times.

Eight months prior, I was happy. Not the happiest I've ever been, but I was doing well. I had always battled depression but it was at bay, even though I had had a falling out with my sisters. This falling out forced me to need to uproot my life and leave my beloved California for the east coast where majority of my family lived. Without my sisters as my roommates, I couldn't afford to stay in Cali, as much as it pained me to admit. Sure, I could have moved out and tried to find a roommate on Craigslist, but I was too cautious and I was barely making ends meet with the two roommates I had. It seemed easier at the time to move back "home" with my tail between my legs. Of course, I did it at the worst possible time. A huge hurricane was barreling through the Atlantic Ocean headed straight for us. I arrived the night before all hell broke loose.

Nevertheless, we managed to soldier on. The house flooded, we had to stay at a temporary shelter, but we made it through. Still, the depression wasn't rearing it's ugly head. I was desperately trying to find a job, because there wasn't much out there in a rural southern coastal town. I had a career, but I left it to pursue writing. I was hell bent on writing or nothing at all. Somehow that translated into me getting a job as a waitress. So much for the "nothing at all." I have no idea what I was thinking, to be honest. I guess I felt like it would give me free time to continue to write. It didn't.

I was lonely, my friends were all married with kids and I was stuck living with my parents. Not to mention the dating scene here was as abysmal as the job market. I started working at a local diner, I knew almost everyone who came in, the tips were okay. What wasn't okay was the questions I got.

"What are you doing back here?"

— "long story..."

"Weren't you working at a law office?"

— "no, I was a court stenographer."

"Where's your husband?"

— "dunno, but if you find him, can you point him in my direction?"

And my personal favorite was,

"Are you having a mid life crisis? You're much too young and pretty for that."

— "uhh, thanks?"

So instead of working on my novel, or even reading somebody else's, I poured myself into watching documentaries. My love of true crime led me to watching one about a wrongfully convicted murderer. I was appalled that the justice system had failed yet again. I saw it too often when I was working in the courtroom. But unlike when I was working, I actually could have a voice now. I started going on these different blogs looking for ways to help people who had been hurt by the legal system. By early November, I had met a guy who shared my passion. I wasn't actually helping anyone, so much as just talking about the different cases and once I met Andrew, I didn't go on the blogs anymore. I became enthralled with him. Talking to him anytime, I wasn't at the diner.

I truly thought that Andrew would be the guy I had been waiting for. The man of my dreams. But on December 26th, out of nowhere, he stopped taking my calls.  At first, I was worried.  Then worry turned to anger, and anger turned to depression.  I never did find out what happened.  But, I do know he is alive and well, because he accidentally texted me one morning in January.  It was meant for his dad.  He didn't text again.

This was the start of my year.  It wasn't looking so good so far, for 2019.  Worse came to worse when I had to work a double on the day after Valentines Day.  Sylvie- the other waitress, myself, and Dan- the cook were discussing going out to a bar, but because I was so tired, I ultimately declined.  I ended up regretting my decision when they left and I was still fumbling for my keys.  Usually, we all left at the same time.  It just wasn't my night.  Three rowdy teenagers who had been kicked out of the diner earlier for being too obnoxious came out from the shadows, grabbing me and dragging me to the back of the diner.  I fought hard, grabbing and pulling at whatever, I could.  It was for naught.  They punched and kicked me over and over, spit in my face, tore my uniform half off, and then left me there bleeding and unconscious.

My parents had expected me home and sat around worrying when I hadn't at least called to say I would be late.  My dad decided after an hour to go looking for me.  He pulled up to the diner, saw my car and yelled for me.  I whimpered.  He followed the pathetic sounds to the back loading area where he found me.  The police investigated, but I couldn't remember anything about my attackers.  The diner didn't have any surveillance footage and all anyone remembered was they looked like typical kids.  They left no DNA evidence behind.  I had become a true crime victim.

A month prior, I had thrown caution to the wind and purchased this ticket to the island.  I was reeling from the "break up," if you could even call it that and decided, I could make it work financially, as I had a retirement plan I could cash out.  Now, after the attack, I was to be out of work for an indefinite amount of time.  I had some nerve damage and a punctured lung from a broken rib.  I didn't know how I was going to pay any of the hospital bills as I didn't have any insurance.  I decided to reach out to the people, I believed were more my family than my actual blood.  The Echelon.  My brothers and sisters in Mars.

I went onto Vyrt, as some of us still chatted on there and I nervously typed the following:  hey guys, haven't been on in a few weeks.  Have been missing you all.  Several people responded with hellos and where have ya beens.  Then, I admitted to them what had happened: well, it's been tough.  I was attacked. Left for dead, ya know... the usual. My sense of humor was my downfall here.  Many people thought I was joking, but I eventually admitted it was all true and said I was sorry for making it seem so lighthearted.  I told everyone how rough things were and that I had sadly cancelled my trip to Croatia.  I was lucky, because Adventures in Wonderland refunded me due to my circumstances.  Then out of the blue, someone I loved and respected, Natalie, typed: she's so full of shit guys, she just wants sympathy because she's living such a pathetic life. I was stunned.  Never once, had I ever went into Vyrt looking for a pity party, and never had I ever been mean or rude towards her.  She continued: I bet she never even booked mars island.  AiW doesn't do refunds ever! I don't know, guys.  She wasn't done, but at this point no one had come to my defense, so she rattled on: I bet she's trying to get Jared's attention.  Maybe she thinks he will allow her to come to the island as his guest. I was mortified.  I quickly logged out and laid sobbing on the hospital bed.  I had no one to turn to after all.

The next day, I had many messages from various Echelon.  Some were kind, others were nasty.  I decided to just leave the Mars "fandom" behind and try to pick up the mess that was my life.  That was until, I noticed an email notification from Shayla.  I at first thought it was a form letter email, since AiW had sent out several when they first were promoting the island.  But curiosity got the better of me and I clicked on it.

Shayla McGhee

To: Catherine Tyrell

Hi Catherine!

I wanted to let you know that someone decided to pay the remainder of the balance for your Mars Island package.  Is it okay for us to process their payment?  We haven't issued your refund of the first payment yet, is this also okay?  We understand if the circumstances surrounding your reason to cancel will keep you from attending, but maybe you can still join us?  Let me know!

Best

Shay

I read and reread the email about a dozen times.  Surprised would be an understatement.  I couldn't fathom who would have done this for me.  As far as I could tell the entirety of the Mars fan base hated me.  I pressed the call button and waited for my nurse to saunter in.

"Well look who has a huge smile on her face!  What do you need, honey?"  She asked.

"Can you ask the doctor to come see me.  I need to ask him a question about my recovery process."  I wanted to know if it was even remotely feasible for me to travel halfway across the globe in a matter of six months time.

"Sure, dear.  I'll see if I can find him doing his rounds.  Need anything else?"  I shook my head and she left the room.

A few long hours later, I had my answer.  If I followed all instructions, I'd be out of the hospital in a couple of weeks and I shouldn't take too long to recover physically.  I was warned that I had to follow all the rules or I may not recover in time.  I believed in myself and sent a reply back saying, I would be making it to the island without hesitation.  I was on cloud nine.  If only I knew then what I know now.  My recovery wasn't just going to be physical.

That night the nightmares started.  The panic attacks started the next day.  The need to not be left alone started a week later.  I was an emotional wreck.  I don't even know what triggered it.  My therapist says, "The human brain is a tricky one.  Sometimes it takes time for trauma to sink in."  I was diagnosed with severe PTSD, depression, anxiety, etc.  The depression I was used to, the constantly being afraid, I wasn't.

I wanted to be normal again, but no matter what I did, I was always in a state of alert.  I began checking the locks on the doors many times before I was satisfied they were truly locked.  I would jump at the slightest sound.  I'd burst into tears randomly.  I couldn't watch TV because everything had violence.  Even cartoons were getting bad.  I was miserable, only leaving the house for doctor appointments.  I was a shell of my former self.

The time for the island got closer and closer,  but I was in no position to travel.  I was almost completely agoraphobic.  One day, my mother who didn't necessarily want me to travel alone came in to my room, where I was still sleeping at noon.  "Okay, enough is enough! Get up!  I know you're sad, I know you're scared, but you aren't doing anything the therapist has suggested you do.  You need to fight this head on.  No stop pulling the blankets over your head! Wake up!"  I grumbled and sat up, yelling.  "Can you NOT, Mother!  I don't need your bullshit, right now."  As soon as I said the words I felt sick.  I was never one to treat my parents with disrespect.  I hated who I had become.  Fortunately, my mother took it in stride.  "Catherine Leeann Tyrell, I'm only going to say this once, you ever talk to me like that again and there will most certainly be hell to pay.  This is your one get out of jail free card.  I'm going to let it slide because I know you are terrified.  But you can't live like this anymore.  Bad things happen all the time.  They happen to everyone. You are not the first person to have this happen to.  As special as you are, you're NOT that special, that you'd be the one and only person to be attacked.  Now, some nice person did you a favor and paid for you to have a wonderful experience.  Are you going to let their money go down the drain because you can't be bothered to at least try to live again?"

My mother's monologue shook me to the core.  She was right.  I needed to confront this head on.  She then dropped a letter on the bed and walked out.  There was no name or any sender information.  My mother had already opened it, no doubt to protect me in case it were something bad.  I sat there staring at the contents.  Laying in my lap was a cashiers check in the amount of $3,000 and a note.  It simply said:  "for your travel arrangements to Croatia."

#thirty seconds to mars #30 seconds to mars #jared leto #campmars #marsisland #jared leto fiction #jared leto fic #jared leto fan fiction #jared leto fanfics #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #echelon

[anchoredtether]

Still Got It

<– Inspired by honestlyprettychill’s beautiful Fault in Our Stars artwork –>

Title: His Driving is Comparable to a Disneyland Ride

Author: AnchoredTether

Rating: T [mild swearing, dark themes]

Pairings: Plance [Lance x Pidge]

Series: Still Got It

Chapter: 2/?

Summary: “Everyone is useful in some shape or form, at some point in their life, to an insurmountable number of people. Everyone’s existence affects the fabric of space and time whether they realize it or not, and this reality as we know it is affected by your very existence. So…” I waved a hand dismissively as if I just explained something rather simple. “Like I said… no one is useless.”

Lance was dumbstruck for a moment, his jaw slightly slacked and his eyebrows lowered. “Holy crow.” Then his bewilderment slowly turned into a wicked grin. “Aren’t you something else.”

"Okay I just have to warn you… riding in Red is an… experience."

"Red?" I had just made it down the last step with my oxygen tank which I insisted I carry. "You named your car after its color?"

Lance made a strange sound while he bit his lower lip. "Wwwwwell… sorta." He jerked his head towards the street where cars were parked along the side. "Mine's the Jeep."

I looked and although I didn't know cars all that well (Hunk was a bit of a nerd when it came to those kinds of things - he was a mechanic after all) but I did recognize the old, beat up Jeep Cherokee. Except it was a faded blue, not the cherry red I was looking for.

"Are you colorblind?" I knew reds and greens were easily confused for those who were colorblind (heck, Matt was slightly colorblind, I had to sometimes give him pointers on his wardrobe) but I had never heard of anyone confusing reds with blues. "Your car is blue."

"Yep."

"…soooo why do you call it Red?"

He let out a small laugh that held the hint of a snicker, as if he were trying to hold back his laughter. "So, the local ad for it said it was 'red.' But when I actually saw the car it was this hideous shade of orange, like when you grab the crayon you think is red but it's the 'red orange' one and then your picture is completely ruined. So I had my car painted and apparently red is a super expensive paint color so I went with blue instead. But I was already set on calling my car 'Red' so it stuck." He shrugged his shoulders, as if it made complete sense. "Besides, my cat's name is Blue so I couldn't name my car the same name."

"Your cat's name is Blue?" I let out a playful scoff. "I worry for your future children, Green and Yellow."

He laughed and the sound was music to my ears. When we reached his car he opened the passenger door for me, his hands offering once again to take my tank but I shooed him away as I pulled it in myself. He held up his hands defensively before closing the door and I thought it was the most endearing thing. He kept wanting to help me and normally I would have gotten more annoyed by his persistence, but despite his desire to constantly help he also allowed me to do it myself. Most guys would have insisted and grabbed the tank from me despite my protesting. Lance always offered a hand but also gave me the choice whether or not to take it.

That may have been part of the influencing factor to inviting him over.

When he got situated in his seat he turned to look at me, his blue eyes serious. "Have you ever been to Disneyland?"

"Yeah?"

"Been on the Indiana Jones ride?"

I didn't like where this was headed. "Yes?"

"My driving is like that. Kinda jerky and terrifying and you may fear for your life sometimes, but otherwise compleeeeetely safe," he said with a reassuring hand gesture.

While I wanted to believe him, I still made sure my seatbelt was tight and secure. He ignited the engine and the car purred to life. He hit on the radio and immediately started belting out to the song that played. It caught me off guard at first, especially when he jerked the car out onto the road, but as I watched him move his lips to the tune his energy was contagious as I formed a smile. I began to sing along with him, although not nearly as well, until I half yelped half screamed when Lance jerked the car to a stop at the red stop sign and it was so hard I thought we hit something.

"Sorry. I can't exactly push the brake gently," he said while pursing his lips together and making a popping sound. "I have no idea where we're going. Well I know we're going to your house, but I don't know where your house is."

"Oh! Right." Lance started to turn the car right but I quickly yelled, "Nonono! Straight! Go straight!" The car flung back on course and now I was starting to understand why he compared his driving to the Indiana Jones ride. I could start to feel my lunch work its way back up. "I said 'right' as in 'of course' or 'gotcha,' not the direction."

"Gotcha," he smirked. "Good thing no one was around to see that, right?"

"Right."

"You mean, of course."

"Right." Lance started singing again but I had to yell "RIGHT RIGHT RIGHT!!" when he almost missed the turn. "I meant the direction that time!!"

He let out a wheezing sound. "Just point with your fingers from now on."

~ ~ ~

I don't think my mom has ever been so ecstatic in her life.

Not only had I made a new friend (wasn't even sure to call him that yet), but it was a boy and I was the one to initiate inviting him to dinner. I was surprised my mom didn't accuse me with the 'who are you and what have you done with my daughter?' line. Honestly, I was still trying to grasp the fact I invited a stranger boy over for dinner.

I'd never hear the end of it from Matt.

Despite the dread and anxiety I felt crawling up my stomach at the thought of Lance meeting my family and my family reacting to me inviting Lance (and the feeling in my stomach wasn't just from his driving), seeing Shiro answering the door somehow made everything more bearable. The man was practically another brother of mine.

"Hey!" Shiro greeted us with a welcoming smile. "Lance, how's the leg?"

"Still kickin'! How's the arm?"

"Still hanging!" They both laughed and did the classic bro hand grab pull-in hug thing. I shook my head with a smile as I entered the house to see mom and Matt beaming with enough energy to rival the sun. I wanted to groan out loud but I tried to be on my best behavior, if not for Lance's sake, for Shiro's.

Oddly enough, the dinner discussion flowed more smoothly than I could imagine. My family only asked about Lance (and nothing too touchy concerning his leg or his cancer) and Shiro told some funny stories and my dad went on this long tangent about Godel's incompleteness theorems. It wasn't until I blurted the question that was gnawing my mind did the evening take a turn.

"So is your prosthetic trans-tibial or trans-femoral?"

"Katie!" My mother had a look that was a mix of shock and disappointment.

"Oh so that's your real name?" Lance asked in a muffled voice, his mouth full of food.

Mom rolled her eyes and I knew I was going to get a talk later. "She introduces herself as Pidge at the group therapy??"

"I figured it was a nickname," Lance shrugged, swallowing. "But to answer your question, I think trans-femoral. Does that mean my leg ends somewhere along my femur?" When I nodded (since my mouth was full) he continued, "Yeah they told me I have an AK which stands for 'above the knee.' Sounds like I've got a firearm for a leg, which is cool."

"Lance, sweetheart," my mom started, "You don't have to talk about your prosthetic if you don't want to. I'm sorry Katie brought it up."

"You don't have to talk about anything that makes you uncomfortable," my father added.

Lance frowned, shrugging once more. "It's fine. I'm fine. A month ago I probably wouldn't be, but… there's no point in avoiding it. It's a part of me now."

"That's the spirit!" Shiro said with a playful punch from his fake arm. "In time you'll hardly notice it. You're handling it better than I did - took me months to get used to it."

"Yeah but you lost your arm, your hand. Arguably you use that a lot more than your leg."

Shiro hummed. "Perhaps for more finite, dexterous movements. But unless you're vegging on the couch watching Netflix all day, you use your legs more."

"It's true," I pitched in. "Plus, a transfemoral amputee must use approximately eighty percent more energy to walk than a person with two whole legs. I'd say your adjustment is harder than Shiro's."

"Huh," Lance said, "I never thought of it that way…"

Matt side-eyed mom before he focused his attention on Lance. "What kind of hydraulics does your prosthetic use? Or does yours have a motor or microprocessor?"

"Uuuhhh…" Lance looked between all of us like we were speaking a different language. "I actually don't know any of that. I just do what the doctors tell me."

"You'd probably have to have some kind of microprocessing to keep the movements of the knee in sync with your left leg," I said, biting my lip as I thought. "Might even utilize myoelectric signals."

"How about I just show you my leg?" Lance suggested. My lips parted in an excited gasp but my mother cut me off before I could gush about how much I wanted to see the mechanics of his prosthetic.

"Absolutely not. Katie, I think it's time we served our guest dessert instead of examining him."

"It's fine, Mrs. Holt," he said with a lifted hand, "but I'll at least wait until we're done at the dinner table."

~ ~ ~

Despite the fact I never got to see his leg (whenever he tried to show me my mother interfered), we had an enjoyable time together. After dinner and dessert, Lance got to see the ugly side of my family as we played several rounds of Uno. Poor Shiro could never win at that game with his arm's lag. We played a few rounds of Taboo as well, something my father and brother were crazy good at. Lance was constantly surprised at how quickly they guessed the word when only a few clues were given. He had a nice energy about him - the way he smiled, the contagiousness of his laugh, the pleasant upbeat tone of his voice - all contributed to my inevitable falling for him.

When it was time for him to go, my mom sent him home with a bunch of leftovers and extra brownies. I walked with him out to his blue car named Red. The sun had already set but it was still pretty light out and everything was set into a hazy purple dusk. Crickets were chirping and a cool breeze graced the evening air.

"I hope my family wasn't too overwhelming," I said, almost an apology.

Lance snorted. "Your family, overwhelming? You should see mine."

I laughed but stopped short when I realized that his words could have been taken as an invitation. I idly wondered if he meant them that way, and if so, then we both had invited each other over to our families on the first day of knowing each other. Way to move quickly, Pidge.

"I'd like to see yours," I said, not even realizing how… cheesy that sounded. This was turning into some cheap romance straight out of a Twilight novel and I wanted to crawl into my bed and never see the light of day again. But at the same time… I meant it. "And your cat, who I hope isn't actually blue and you're just being colorblind again."

Lance offered me a smirk and it was a look I don't think I'd ever get tired of seeing. "How about next week after group therapy we have dinner at my place instead? You might want to bring earplugs, my family's loud."

"I'm sure they're fine," I scoffed, offering him a smile. "That… actually sounds like a good plan. Assuming you still want to come to group therapy."

"Are you kidding? I freakin' love Coran!" He chuckled. "And besides, I'd like to see you again. I know I already thanked your parents a dozen times, but seriously… thank you for inviting me over."

I felt my face grow hot and lungs tighten. I raised a hand to rub the back of my neck out of nervousness. "I… it's no problem, I mean… you're welcome." I finally gained the courage to lift my eyes to meet his gorgeous blues. The contact made me want to shy away once more but somehow I found myself entranced as my eyes stayed glued upon his irises. "I'm glad we were able to meet, since you were able to see Shiro again and all. It was kind of a neat coincidence."

I didn't think his smirk could get any more enticing but it did. "There is no such thing as coincidence, Katie." The way he said it was pure poetry and I almost converted to his philosophy on the spot.

I offered him a playful frown and my rebuttal: "There is no such thing as fate, Lance."

"We'll see about that."

#my fanfiction #plance #plance fanfic #flirtyrobot #pance #rainforest #still got it #sgi

[sawyersscribbles]

Operation Heavenbound Excerpt #3

In celebration of hitting 5,000 followers, I thought I would post another round of OH for anyone who was interested! So please enjoy, and if you want to be tagged and I haven’t tagged you yet, please let me know!

(Just a little context before I start, though, Chad is a prison guard)

The screams could be heard the moment the door cracked open, sending noise spreading through the halls when moments ago there was silence. The Heavenbounders were just how Chad had said they would be: chained against two opposite walls, screaming at nothing in particular. On the left side was a man of about twenty, with dirt and grease caked in his hair. His hands were pinned to either side of him, and though he was crying out, his chest seemed to be heaving, as if he was close to giving up hours ago. His chest lifted and shrank with each laboring breath, and they could tell even from where they were standing that his ribs were broken. Other than that, he seemed lightly bruised, but from the moment Max saw him, he felt like hiding behind someone bigger than he was.

That was his Heavenbounder over there, chained and beaten like a circus animal preparing for a show. He couldn’t imagine himself telling this guy, no, this man, who had at least three inches on him, what to do and what not. Axel Tran seemed like someone who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

But as Max looked to Azalea, he realized that she had it worse. Her Heavenbounder seemed like someone who matched the description he got earlier, although whatever was chained to the right wall seemed more like an animal than a person. The girl was standing up, although her entire body seemed to wear her down, and kept stomping on the floor and screaming at the ground below her like she was angry at the very earth beneath her feet. Her hair seemed to have fallen out from braids, as Azalea even found a hair tie or two tangled in the matted mess hanging down from her Heavenbounder’s head. Her hair was caked with an unholy amount of blood, and from the looks of the purple splotches coating her arms and chest, she may as well have fallen from a building.

But still she screamed until she heard the door open, to which she fell silent, taking even her partner off guard, who looked like he was about to say something to her but held himself.

Chad moved first, uncuffing the one who must have been Axel, who sighed in relief and rubbed the blistering rings on his wrists. He only gave himself a moment to recover before lurching to the other side of the room towards his friend, but Chad put a hand on his chest to stop him.

“It takes two seconds, Axel. Two seconds.” For a moment, Max could see Axel’s pleading gaze towards the girl, who refused to make eye contact with him and he felt like he was invading something private, so he turned away.

It really did take two seconds to unchain her, and the moment she was free, the two embraced, and even Azalea felt uncomfortable.

“Should we give them a second? What are they, dating?” Azalea whispered to Chad.

“More like brother and sister. They grew up together, fought together, and nearly died together for years, and that’s stopping today.” Chad sighed and wiped some sweat from his brow.

“I wonder what Trin is going to say, if she’s even alive right now. Holy shit…”

“Hey,” Axel spoke for the first time, watching Max look at anywhere but him; the ceiling light, Azalea’s dress, a crack on the floor. He didn’t move at first, but slowly looked up to meet Axel’s stare. Just that would have stopped him cold on any other day.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” Max nodded quickly, and immediately wished he didn’t. Axel left the center of the room and approached, staring down at Max, studying his freckled face, his pale green eyes, the whiteness of his hair, his submissive posture, even the fact that his shoes were untied, and he didn’t seem to care.

Maximus tried to dodge Axel’s gaze with limited success and eventually found nowhere else to look than Axel, who was eclipsing the light fixture and had his hands on his hips.

“What’s your name, buddy?” His tone was bored but calm, like he had run through the questions in his mind a thousand times, but his hands still shook even when they were balled into fists, and that’s what scared him the most.

“Maximus Peréz,” He repeated for the second time that day, making eye contact with Azalea. She shrugged and mouthed something to him which probably was important. If only he could read lips.

“W-What?” Max stuttered as he looked back to Axel, who stared at him expectantly.

“It doesn’t matter, forget it,” Axel grunted and waved him off, taking his place by his friend on the other side of the room, looking back over to him occasionally, as if to check if he was still there.

Meanwhile, Azalea had begun to tap her foot and refused to break eye contact with the other girl. Strangely, the girl’s muscles seemed to relax, and her breathing was more steady now. Maximus grinned at the thought of putting the girl and the word “calm” in the same image, but that was the only word he could find to describe how she approached Azalea and looked up, a soft look of calculation on her face.

Only Axel and Azalea were unsurprised when one of the girl’s balled fists launched up from her side and crashed into Azalea’s chin, sending her head lurching backwards to look at the ceiling. Her hands rested at her side as Azalea stayed there, looking at the white ceiling, trying to  keep the tears in her eyes.

Of course this happened.

She didn’t know exactly why the punch brought her to tears; it wasn’t the pain, that much was for sure. She was far beyond that. She shrugged to herself, her exterior mirroring her thoughts. Her mother used to call her a psycho when she used to do physically do something that she couldn’t understand without being inside her daughter’s head, but for some reason, doing it in front of all these strangers seemed to make it okay.

This always happens. She hates you. This is your fault.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Chad barked and yanked the girl back by the arm so hard that she nearly lost her footing. Max realized he would have been mortified if a big man in a uniform snatched him by the arm and pulled him away, but the girl was smiling and doing something strange with her mouth.

She made a gurgling sound and spat pink on the scuffed toe of Azalea’s boots.

Oh.

“That one’s for your garbage pit of a home, you dead, broken, disfigured, ugly, monster.” She spoke slowly to Azalea with perfect diction, smiling as she said it. Not even Axel was willing to come to her aid; in fact, he took a step away from his friend for what felt like the first time.

“Reese, come on, she’s just doing her job, don’t be an asshole like that…” He tried to subdue her, but she refused to even turn in his direction.

“It went to Hell for a reason, Axel. If all it takes to make it cry is to spit on its shoes, then it’s got a big storm brewing.” She looked at Max, who was halfway to throwing up imagining what Reese would dare do to him, but to his relief, all she did was scoff.

“Come on, Axel,” she muttered, “let’s take them home.”

~

Tagging: @pondsamelia @aschenink @woot-woot-motherfukers @feeling-2016 @erisunderthemoon @boothewriter @three-seas-writing @shipthedame

Special thanks to you guys for always being so supportive, you dudes are the best!!

#OH excerpt #my writing #amwriting #original character #OC #writeblr

[xiii-jb-46]

I don’t wanna be a princess

A/N: Watching this movie about princess and it gave me an idea. I’ve decided to slightly change it alittle.

Warning: swearing (mildish)

___________________

I looked in the mirror of my house. It was a mansion somewhere in Riverdale. I hated living here and I’ve been living here for only a week. My parents sent me to Riverdale to live as a normal girl untill I was 18. Which is pretty poor decision because I’m 16. I only have two years left, Who knows what they were thinking.

Now I know what you are thinking. Your pribably thinking my parents own a huge company, right? Well your not completely wrong. My parent’s are the biggest mobster in South California. Well technically my dad is, my mother was from another gang you may say is from Toronto. My uncle is boss for that one and our two gangs are very close.

“Y/N it is almost time for school,” My twin brother walks in wearing what he usually wears. Sweater and ripped jeans, “You excited to meet new people and live without the everyone thinking your gonna kill them?” He stood behind me with a smile.

“I didn’t kill him. You did so back off.” I pushed past him making sure to hit him in the process. He always blamed things on me just because I was born first. I was going to take over and I was ready for it. I think.

I got into his black Lamborghini. When I mean got into he basically forced me because he said we don’t walk to school. We arrived at our new school already drawing attention to ourselves.

“I hate you so much. I hope you know that Ryan.”

“I hate you too Y/N.” I got out slamming the door. I looked at my reflection fixing my adidas originals 3 stripped leggings. I looked at my red chill short sweater. I looked okay and I felt okay.

“You look like a whale.” Ryan was leaning against his side of the car.

“Shut up norbit.” I slung my bag on my shoulders and walked in the school. I hated the looks and stares. It made feel pressured to be what how my entire family is. Dangerous and violent.

“Wait up Y/N!” My stupid brother finally caught up and looked down at my maroon timberlands, “You look terribly ugly wearing those.”

“Okay try hard. At least I’m not being someone I’m not, poser.” I walked ahead leaving him. I went into the office and saw the most cutest guy. My heart was bounding so fast just looking at him. His hair fell perfectly on his face. The turtle neck reminded me of my brother but that can be removed. He looked good in those preppy clothes. He smiled and I melted right where I was standing. I could church bells and it was like I had found an angle. It was so perfect until my brother came along.

“Y/N I have your schedule.” I ignored him looking at the cute stranger. “Y/N? Water to whale?” I elbowed him in the stomach. I looked at him and pushed him down.

“Stop calling me a whale you twig.” I wripped my schedule out his hand and punched him in the nose. It isn’t the first time I’ve done it. Thank god no one was paying attention. Blood came down his nose and ran down his lip. He glared at me and stood up.

“You bitch. You wait till I tell father.”

“So what! We all know who he favours!” Now the entire office was looking at us.

“Oh so what! I don’t need his approval!” I didn’t care about the stares anymore.

“You are an idiot and I hope you realise it.” Kneed him in the stomache and left. I cant deal with him or we would end up trying to kill each other.

I walked behind the school and threw sticks at the tree. “Idiot brother! Hope he falls in a sink hole created by mother nature!” I stomped on the stick and screamed.

“You okay?” I lool behind me and saw the cute stranger.

“No my brother really knows how to get on my nerves.” He sits on a bench and I sit next to him.

“Well looks you know how to get on his. He is walking around school with a bleeding nose.” I laugh thinking about it.

“He is always calling me a whale or daddy’s favourite. I never asked for him to favour me. I don’t even want it.” He laughed looking down at me.

“Your cute, princess.” I smiled blushing. My heart raced and I couldn’t believe being here would be a blessing.

The next few weeks were a breeze I became close to the cute stranger who’s name is sweet pea. When I mean close I mean we had an unofficial thing. I became friends with Jughead, Toni, Fangs, Betty and Veronica. Not so much Archie. It felt like he was keeping something to himself and I didn’t like it.

My phone rang and I when I looked at the caller ID I frowned. My brother stared at me weirdly and look down at my phone. “You better answer.” I nod answering the call.

“Hello father.” I said joyfully.

“Hello darling. I’m coming to Riverdale to sort some things out with an old friends.” He hanged up and I knew once he finished things up we would leave and I didn’t want to. I stood up from my couch and walked to my bedroom. What am I going to do? I sighed flopping on my bed.

“Why is it so hard to choose? If I follow my heart I end up captured and dead. If I folloe my mind. I’ll be miserable.” I looked at the roof and watched the fan go around and around.

♤ ______________________ ♧

I was woken up by the sound of laughter and the smell of alchole and cigars. “So soon?” I look outside and see it was completely dark without a trace of any sun light. The moon barely visable in the corner of the window.

I got up and walked out to greet my parents but was surprised by an extra guest.

“Veronica? Archie?” I stared at her in disbelief.

“Y/N!?” She smiled as I took my seat next to Ryan. You would think she would have guessed I was here too if my brother was right here.

“Well this great. Our daughters know each other. We were just discussing about the serpents.” I gulped a little too loud.

“Whats wrong my dear?”

“Oh nothing they can be scary.” I pretend to hug Ryan as if I was scared and hebwould protect me. I heard Veronica’s little giggle.

“Well we were thinking of doing something about those serpents.” No please nothing dangerous.

“They are in the way of bussiness and we need them gone.” Ryan was trying so hard not to tell something and for father’s approval he would spill anything.

“Y/N knows a serpent and he is wrapped aeound her finger!” He burst out. I slapped the back of his head.

“Well this is going well then. You can use him to get him do your bidding and soon you will be in trusted and then from the inside we will crumble them their walls.” I stood up angrily

“No Father! I will not do your bidding for evil. I don’t care if you disown me. I will not break someones trust for you. Especially if I like them.”

“If you don’t, things will not go well for him. He may not even be alive.” His voice was calm without a trace of anger.

“Fine!"I ran up the stairs and cried myself to sleep. The next I didn’t bother with breakfast. I got ready and left for school. Without Ryan. He would just lecture me about how I disobeyed father and how he wouldn’t do that.

Regretfully I used Sweet pea and every night I cried myself to sleep. I can’t do it anymore but I was too deep to tell him. They had trusted me so much it was like I was one of them and by law Serpents never betray their own. My father was a good man but sometimes he could be cruel. My brother hated me deep down but he hid it away.

"Y/N you gonna eat?” I heard Ryan’s voice from the door.

“No. I’m not hungry.” He closed the door. The next day it was raining. I had barely made it inside without my hair getting wet. Veronica rushed to me with a worried look on her face.

“The serpents were suspended. They found out about the statue. They also found out about whag you had been doing Y/N.” I dropped my umbrella and ran to the south side. I didn’t care about the rain or the fact that when I find him. He wont want to see me at all.

Sweet pea was just about to walk in his tralier. “Sweets!” I yelled just 5 meters away. He looked back and walked in. I walked in just before he closed the door.

“What do you want Y/N?”

“To apologize.”

“Why so you can just break that too? I can’t believe you used me Y/N. After all the things I’ve done for you. I can’t believe I actually like you,” I looked down feeling all the regret I did all those nights, “you dont even care do you?”

“I do Sweet pea. I care so-”

“The why would you betray us!”

“Because! My father threaten to kill you! I love you Sweet pea and I didn’t want to see someone I care about die.” He looked at me shocked.

“Princess…”

“I cried every night because I regretted what I was doing. I held your life in my hands and one slip up would cost me. I hated it. I got to the point I regretted meeting you because I didn’t want this to happen. I didn’t want our unofficial love to end. I-” He grabbed my facd and kissed me on the lips with passion in eyes.

“We will protect you. Even if it means we all die. A serpent is never left to die.” I hugged him crying in his chest. The next few days were rough. My father found me and apologized to Sweet pea because my mother had found out what he did. My mother waa far scarier than my dad. I had told him I don’t want to be a mobster and he felt upset but agreed. My brother got what he wanted and I got what I wanted.

Finally I am at peace.

♤___________________♧

#sweetpea imagine #sweetpea x reader #sweet pea fanfic #sweet pea x fangs #sweet pea #romance #love #mobster #riverdaale #southside serpent #south side serpents #northside #jk #veronica lodge

[taaroko]

Post-IW MCU Rewatch: Ant-Man

Yay, time for Ant-Man! This one has rather grown on me over the last couple of viewings (not that I ever didn’t like it).  

Hi middle-aged Peggy! (Isn’t it great how many times Hayley Atwell managed to get herself into these movies beyond what the original plan was, out of sheer enthusiasm? Yeah, I’m still bitter Agent Carter got cancelled.)

The music for the logo is awesome.

My killjoy brother says the main reason he dislikes this movie is that he doesn’t think it makes sense that Hank would ever trust some stranger (Scott) with his tech. Um. Hank has been protective of the tech because he doesn’t want it to be abused. But Scott proved he wasn’t a corporate goon by going to prison for screwing over a corrupt corporation. He’s proven himself. Also he doesn’t have the knowledge to make more of the particles, so he can’t steal any of the secrets himself. 

Luis is probably my favorite sidekick in the whole MCU. He’s irrepressibly cheerful, he compulsively makes delicious-looking waffles, he’s a refined wine man and fan of neo-cubism yet also steals two smoothie machines, and when he goes into ramble mode it’s the greatest thing ever.

Anyone who has ever worked food service has met an idiot like Scott’s customer. Also his boss is basically David Brent. Trying way too hard to be cool, but kind of a git and a coward.

Scott’s attitude is super endearing. Very chill, understated reactions to things that annoy him. You get the impression that it’s not so much that he’s a very patient man as that he’s just so used to stuff like Luis’s antics that he’s become kind of inured to it. He’s also able to roll with the punches. Getting fired from Baskin Robbins could’ve made him bitter and angry, but instead he just kind of shrugs and takes that Mango Fruit Blast. He’s not prideful at all. 

I called the tank being real by the second time the keychain appeared onscreen. Chekhov’s Tank!

Hello, Darren Cross, dude who is only not the worst MCU villain because Malekith exists. (How did Malekith manage to have less of a personality than Darren? It’s absurd.)

The ad video for the Yellowjacket is horrifying. Do people actually make ad videos for advanced weaponry? Do they narrate them with movie narrator voices and tidy up the diction to make them sound like wonderful good pieces of technology, but in a not-entirely-convincing way?

How is a hand on a shoulder such a sinister and obvious sign of impending murder?

Cassie is the most adorable little girl ever, and the kid playing her is a really good actress. I love that Scott is a dad. It makes him much more interesting. (Also is he the only divorcé in the entire MCU? Wait no, May is too. I think he’s the only one in the movies, though.)

“He’s so ugly! I LOVE HIM!” AAAAGH. SO CUTE.

I love that all the little details keep coming back. (The tank, the “La Cucaracha” horn.” Just lots of really good callbacks. It’s hard to believe this movie had production issues with changing directors.)

The way Darren kills that guy by shrinking him, and then wipes him up and flushes him, is ridiculously horrific. And the way he looks in the mirror after that is probably the most interesting he ever is in the movie. He knows the path he’s going down, and he’s not stopping.

So it’s not entirely clear. Is Hope dating Darren? Are they living together? Or are they just business partners? I’m confused.

YES LUIS STORY TIME. This is like Kid History, and it’s my favorite thing. Please please please make an MCU recap narrated by Luis, Marvel.

This music is weird and fun. I love it.

Scott parkouring is great. I wonder why he developed that skillset when he was just an electrical engineer. Has he been doing it since he was a kid?

Scott is like the midpoint between Tony Stark and Peter Quill in almost every way. Good at outside-the-box solutions, has engineering skills (but not at Tony’s level), a sense of humor that’s more self-deprecating than Tony’s but less wide-eyed dorky than Peter’s, etc. That’s awesome.

Could you be more transparently evil than using a bleating white lamb for your ill-fated lab experiments?

Huh. There’s a moment where Scott looks in the mirror too. Is that meant to be a contrast with when Darren does it? For Scott, it’s a moment where he resigns himself to failing, even though he caved and did the burglary. I don’t really see the connection, emotionally, to the way Darren looked in the mirror, but I guess one of them is the apprentice Hank rejected, and the other is the apprentice he ultimately chose. *shrug*

Ant-Man perspective is great. The encounter with the rat is terrifying.

You broke Scott’s chill, Hank!

Okay, so Scott’s actual superpower is changing his clothes at the speed of light. It was entirely unnecessary for them to give him such a small interval of time to get the suit on.

“What happens if I throw up in this helmet?”

There were zero bullet ants on the floor in the initial wide shot of the room. Also in the second wide shot. Which takes place two seconds before Scott tries to put his foot on the floor. Did they...forget to render ants in those shots? Or did they forget there were going to be ants there when they filmed from that angle? Gonna count that one as a mistake, because they could not have gotten all over the floor that fast.

They really needed to do more to explain about Darren’s brain chemistry getting messed up by the particles, because as far as I can tell, the first time he ever shrinks himself is on the helicopter at the end. How do these particles make him evil/crazy, exactly? What was he like before? What have the particles done to Hank?

Also they shouldn’t have explained the particles as changing “atomic relative distance” without also explaining that the suit allows you to control your weight relative to size. Because sometimes Ant-Man appears to weigh as much as he looks like he should, but the rest of the time, he’s clearly still 180 lbs in that tiny space (with the reverse problem when he becomes Giant-Man). If he always weighed 180 lbs while being the size of an ant, he would constantly punch through surfaces by walking on them, and if he was always the weight of an ant, he’d be powerless to do anything except be sneaky.

The montages in this movie are great.

Scott uses Hope’s move later. :D And she was totally checking him out.

Huh. Hope and Scott’s conversation in the car happens exactly halfway through the movie, and it’s the turning point. This is when they start being on the same team.

Hank’s revelation about Janet comes rather out of nowhere. I feel like they could’ve woven that in more effectively. It’s also a little exposition-heavy to entirely work on the emotional level.

This gesture by Scott is one of the best things.

I love the crossovers. Crossovers forever! (Seriously, put Thor cameos in future GotG movies and Loki cameos in future Doctor Strange movies. No, I don’t for a second believe Loki is really dead.)

Poor Sam. He missed out on Sokovia just to get trolled by this rando in a shrinking suit.

Hope saw Scott use her move! Hee!

Sinister hand on shoulder!

Okay, Hope’s “I’m at home” line is why I was confused about whether she and Darren were dating and living together. But it occurs to me now that there’s not really an implication that it’s his home too. So I think they’re just business partners. Good. Because Darren being double-crossed by his girlfriend and failing to react on that level would have made him a much worse character than he already was.

Seriously love Luis, and the other two guys are great too. Excellent crew of wombats.

I love the wallpaper in Hank’s house. Also, just, all of Hank’s house. It’s so pretty.

Okay I absolutely believe that Luis was the only guy to ever knock out that huge dude from the prison. He’s been knocking people out with single punches left and right on this job so far. I love him even more now! That’s such a cool little bit of consistency for him.

Is it true that cops use Crown Victorias as their undercover cars most often? Because I’ve kind of assimilated that as real-life trivia ever since theaters.

What was the point of frying the servers if they were just going to shrink the building to nothing anyway?

Kurt and Tip are hilarious. “There was a black guy who looked exactly like me who attacked us and put us in the back of this disgusting van!”

So if the Avengers have spent the last year taking down Hydra facilities, how are there still people in Hydra who can spend billions for Yellowjacket suits?

I thought Hank was going to die the first time I saw this. Now I’m betting this will be a How to Train Your Dragon situation with Ant-Man and the Wasp, where not long after we discover the long-lost mom, the dad gets killed.

Darren’s villain music is the best thing about him. It’s very unnerving.

All the fights while Scott’s in the suit are so much fun to watch.

“Are we the good guys? Feels kinda weird.”

I don’t like that the chain attachment on the tank also gets huge. And how does a tank cushion a three-storey drop?

That Darren is able to shoot ants is very silly and weird. Would’ve worked better if there was buckshot or something. But still. This movie made me care about an ant dying.

Dangit, Darren, you just killed everyone else in the chopper. You suck.

Briefcase fight! I remember how hard everyone laughed when “Disintegration” started playing in theaters. So great.

All the abrupt cuts from epic to insignificantly small are what make these fights so funny and awesome.

Bug zapper! I watched this with my dad recently (his first time seeing it) and he laughed so hard at the bug zapper.

Another tased Avenger!

So I thought this movie was going to be stupid, right up until the trailer got to the bit with Thomas the Tank Engine. Then I knew it was going to be amazing. It’s still probably my favorite moment in the whole movie.

They kinda overdid it with the “back it up” bit.

Giant ant! Poor Paxton.

Did anyone not see it coming from the moment Hank talked about going sub-atomic that Scott was going to have to do it at the end?

The infinite shrink is mesmerizing to look at. I bet this movie was cool in 3-D. (I have glasses, so 3-D is not so fun.)

Hi Janet!

The bottom half of that face in the photo actually looks kinda like Michelle Pfeiffer’s face. Nice work!

Hahaha, I love that Cassie kept the ant as a dog.

MORE STORIES FROM LUIS! The way he blinks too many times after he finishes is what really clinches it.

So yeah, I like me a heist movie, and it was definitely a brilliant decision on Marvel’s part to go small (figuratively and literally) with the next movie after Ultron. It is a mistake to think you always have to escalate your threats in a series. That was the problem for a while with Supernatural, and it’s definitely a problem in shows like Dragonball Z and Naruto too. Ant-Man was the perfect way to scale back and remind us that these movies are a ton of fun. I’m so glad that they did the same thing with the scheduling of Infinity War and Ant-Man and the Wasp, and I can’t wait for July 6.

I really hope Ant-Man and the Wasp does the same thing Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 did, and goes deeper with the characters instead of just getting bigger in scope. Because Ant-Man is one of the more surface-level movies in the MCU. Scott doesn’t really carry a lot of angst, so even though his arc is about proving he can be the hero Cassie sees him as, it’s pretty chill, with just a couple of moments where he loses...hope...(dang it) in his ability to make this work and be the dad he wants to be.

The bigger emotional arc was Hank and Hope, because Hope absolutely carries her angst and bitterness in a big way. They’re kind of a representation of what Scott and Cassie could end up being if Scott doesn’t get his crap together. And Darren is an evil parallel for Scott, obviously. All of the different arcs probably would’ve worked better if they’d spent enough time and effort on Darren to make him interesting. But the lack of depth in all of the arcs doesn’t ruin the movie because it’s a comedy. This is deliberately a light, fun comedy action movie, and it’s great.

Also it has a good and memorable soundtrack, so bonus points.

#ant-man #scott lang #hank pym #hope pym #mcu rewatch #Infinity War spoilers #marvel

[creativeashproductions]

Lycanthrope [2] // Steve Harrington

Summary: Quiet about the knowledge of the dimension your boyfriend kept secret from you for a variety of reasons. One being that you were a werewolf hiding out from a determined hunter in your home town. When a fight ensues with Steve it forces a chain of events that may break your relationship permanently.

Characters: Steve Harrington x werewolf!Reader, Mike Wheeler, Chief Jim Hopper, Lucas Sinclair, Dustin Henderson, Byers family, Max Mayfield, Nancy Wheeler and Billy Hargrove.

Words: 2016

Disclaimer: I do not own Stranger Things or the characters involved. I only own the Reader and her plot. I also do not own any gifs or images that may appear in this either. The desktop theme provides the owner of the gifs.

Warnings: Swearing, verbal fighting, violence, death and angst.

Author: Caitsy

A/N: A request from an anon that is split into two parts. Left you on a cliffhanger than I may or may not resolve.

Part One

Master List

Prompt List

ASK US A QUESTION LIST

“Take Denfield, then you’ll see a large oak tree.” Hopper began swiftly taking Will’s prone body to the car, “You’re gonna swing a right. That road is gonna dead-end. And it’s about a five minute walk from there.”

“Okay. Denfield to oak tree. Swing a right. That’s it. But it’s channel ten, right?” Jonathan asked while you watched it from the couch where Dustin was asking questions. Soon the group split into what they had planned out.

“Can you change at any moment?”


“Yes.” You blandly stated staring at your boyfriend.

“Do you only change into a full wolf?”

You sighed closing your eyes to look down before looking up at the curly haired boy with glowing yellow eyes and your face deformed with fur. He jumped along with the others in the room seeing your change while Nancy and Steve left to scavenge for materials.

“I inherited the ability to fully shift into a wolf.” You explained watching the exchange between Jane and Mike. Steve had returned still cold to you for understandable reasons.

“That is so cool.” Dustin exclaimed shaking his head. You shook your head in modest agreement while Steve peeked at you from the corner of his eye.

“Sometimes.” You sighed, “Other times it’s a pain to struggle every month and being bound by pack rules to follow your Alpha.”

Steve shook his head again as he followed the urging of Dustin to collect the dead demodog in a sheet before attempting to put it in the fridge.  You played with your fingers as Lucas went into more detail about the situation with Max while cleaning up the glass.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled when Steve turned away from the fridge and his honorary little brother. You refused to pay attention to other things when your anchor was angry at you, “You have every reason to hate me and want to break up.”

“Are you serious? I’m very in love with you! We’ve made plans for our future together! While I am pissed you didn’t tell me about your entire life that doesn’t mean I want to break up!” Steve exclaimed gripping your hands in his, “I love you goddamn it!”

“Real touching guys but we have bigger problems.” Max spoke quietly. You only zoned into Lucas and Mike’s conversation when Dustin called out to correct them. he had some kind of attachment to the name he had given the monsters that connected with the Mind Flayer.

“The chief will take care of her.” Lucas firmly spoke while Max shook her head in shock. It was still sinking in that there was more to the world than she had grown up knowing.

“Like she needs protection.”

“Listen dude. A coach calls a play in a game, bottom line you execute it. All right?” Steve said drying his hands on the towel while everyone stared in disbelief.

“Okay, first of all this isn’t some stupid sports game. And second we’re not even in the game. We’re on the bench.”

“Rig…so my point is…” Steve trailed off grasping for nothing, “Right. Yeah, we’re on the bench so uh…there’s nothing we can do.”

“That’s not entirely true.” Dustin began glancing at Steve, “I mean, these demodogs. They have a hive mind, when they ran away from the bus they were called away.”

“Bus?” You slowly questioned looking at your sheepish boyfriend.

“So if we get their attention.” Lucas spoke up while Max finished his sentence.

“Maybe we can draw them from the lab.”

“Clear a path to the gate.” Mike finished thinking solely for the sake of Jane and Will.

“Yeah and then we all die!” Steve raised his voice incredulous at the thoughts of the kids he was ordered to protect.

“That’s one point of view.” Dustin said.

“A very stupid one.” You muttered, “It’s not a point of view.”

“Exactly.” Steve said snapping his fingers in your direction, “No that’s not a point of view man. That’s a fact.”

“I got it!” Mike exclaimed shoving his way passed Dustin and Steve to a wall covered in drawings that you hadn’t noticed until now, “This is where the chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So…here right here. This is the hub.”

You all followed the young Wheeler through the room to each different way as he rushed to explain his theory. You didn’t fully pay attention when Steve’s hand gently maneuvered into your hand and eased your racing heart and mind.

“Oh. Yeah? That’s a no.” Steve quickly shot the idea down.

“Mike in order to burn it we would have to be down there near the flames. It’s too dangerous, I heal fast but you guys don’t.”

“The mind flayer would call away his army.” Dustin spoke up.

“They’d all come to stop us.” Lucas inserted.

“We circle back to the exit.” Mike chimed in.

“Guys.” Steve failed to gain their attention again.

“By the time they realize we’re gone.”

“El would be at the gate.” Max joined in again providing with the conversation.

“No.” You shook your head while Steve got louder.

“Hey! Hey! HEY! This is not happening.” Steve shot down the idea with more force than before, “No, no, no, no. No buts! I promise I’d keep you shitheads safe and that’s exactly what I plan on. We’re staying here. On the bench and we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?”

“This isn’t a stupid sports game!”

“We said! Does everybody understand that!” You screamed feeling your canines creep out from your gums and into visibility.

“I need a yes.” Steve slowly down but before anyone could speak again the unmistakable sound of a revving engine caught your attention.

“It’s my brother. He can’t know I’m here. He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us.” Max gasped leaning against the couch to watch the car speeding up the driveway. You grunted wondering if things could get any worse than they already were at this point.

The familiar egotistical jackass that stepped out sent a slight shiver down your spine, he had a disgusting mullet and a penchant for shirts only buttoned up twice. A girl by his side and cigarette permanently between his lips was all you saw. You stayed with the kids inside close to the windows while Steve stepped out to deal with him.

All was well until you saw Billy shove Steve onto the ground and kick him in the ribs. The growl fell from your lips as you watched your anchor in pain. You didn’t know how many hands kept you from jumping through the window and killing the fugly fucker.

The door slammed open and Billy stood in the entry wall for a minute before that sadistic smirk planted itself on his face.

“Well well well.” Billy coldly spoke slamming the door behind me, “Lucas Sinclair. What a surprise. I thought I told you to stay away from him Max.”

Everyone tensed up as he stepped way to close to a flinching Max and terrified Lucas.

“Billy, go away.” Max spoke keeping her eyes trained on her stepbrother. You didn’t step in knowing she needed to stand up for herself.

“You disobeyed me and you know what happens when you disobey me.”

“Billy-“

“I break things.” Billy said before fluidly gripping the front of Lucas’ shirt and slamming him against the cabinet against the wall. All the while the kids and you screamed at him.

“Get off me!” Lucas weakly exclaimed struggling in the tight grip.

“Since Maxine won’t listen to me, maybe you will. You stay away from her.” Billy evenly spoke before he got more aggressive, “STAY AWAY FROM HER. You hear me?”

A moment of quiet before Lucas screamed, “I said get off me!”

Billy grunted leaning over when Lucas planted his knee hard up between Billy’s legs and you knew shit was about to hit the fan.

“You are SO dead Sinclair!” Billy yelled with eyes more wild than before, “You’re dead.”

Billy wasn’t able to make a move before he was violently pulled to face a newly appeared Steve  with one purpose in mind.

“No. You are.” Steve stated as he wound his arm back and landed a solid strong punch. It became a mess of kids yelling and Billy’s ugly laughter.

“Looks like you got some fire in you after all huh.” Billy excitedly spoke, “I’m been waiting to meet this King Steve everybody’s been telling me so much about.”

“Get out.” Steve slowly but firmly spoke giving Billy a glance over. Billy just watched him before swinging his fist at Steve who ducked in time before moving back up planting his fist in Billy’s face and sending him crashing into the table.

Billy stood there before he was knocked into another counter by another punch and into the sink with another one. Things were looking up until Billy’s hand found an object on the counter. Specifically a plate and slamming it on Steve’s head. Billy gained the upper hand with a solid punch and stalked into the living room with Steve.

“No one tells me what to do.” Billy growled had butting the other male teen with enough force to send him to the ground. A deep growl reverberated through the chest before your canines grew and your eyes bled yellow in the iris.

When Billy started throwing punches at your boyfriend your humanity completely disappeared, you charged the boy after the third punch to throw him into the wall. Billy tried to kick you but you gripped his leg and twisted until he fell on his face. He managed to kick your knee out and shove your elbow until a loud painful crack settled in the air.


“You really shouldn’t have done that.” You thickly spoke looking at the bone before raising your eyes to meet his.

“What the fuck is wrong with your face.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you asking the wrong questions?” You retorted, “Don’t worry by the time I’m done I’ll have beat your fucking name out of your mind for the rest of your life.”

“You and what army?” Billy spat.

“My fangs, my claws and my anger.” You laughed as he went on to sprout words that was too terrible to repeat. Pulling his up you grasped his neck squeezing as he choked, you heard the kids screaming at you.

You didn’t know the kids had a clear view of the ice blue colour leaking and taking over the yellow of your eyes. You only stopped when Max had plunged the syringe in Billy’s neck and the others dragged you away. The blue beginning to leave your eyes.

“It’s okay.” Dustin soothed as Lucas grabbed the bandaids and handed them to Dustin to place on Steve’s face.

“I’m so fucked.” You grunted leaning against the wall. A barely conscious Billy shared words with Max before he passed out with the markings of nails in the woods near his balls.

Life began to look up when the gate was closed and your relationship was reconciled with a better bond. Now your parents were more open with your supernatural life and Steve brought you along to drop off Dustin at the dance.

“Hey we’re here.” Steve whispered gently while Dustin slammed the door jarring you from your sleep.

“Hey.” You tiredly said leaning into his body while soft music played on the radio.

“I’ve been meaning to ask.” Steve hesitated looking down at you.

“What?”

“Dustin said when you were choking Billy your eyes started to turn blue. What does that mean?” Steve questioned.

“For werewolves there are three colours of eyes. Red for Alpha, yellow for beta and omega while blue is more…disappointing and tragic.”

“What do you mean.”

“My eyes started to change colour because I was killing an innocent.” You admitted looking up at him. Steve was quiet as he pushed himself closer to you.

“Marry me.” Steve lovingly asked knowing there was no better time.

“What?” You breathed not sure how to answer.


“Marry me.”

Forever Tag List

@cityofsobbingfangirls @tas898 @barbidollash @trustnobodyshootfirst @winchesterfanfiction @deanwinchesterisamazing @oh-my-hecky-padalecki @padackles2010 @msimpala67 @deangirl5509 @heyitssilverwolf @therealme13posts @petlaufeyson @professionally-crazed @winterhurricane @tearsandbloodofmyenemies @blackwidow-romanoff @crazybarnes @marvelofcourse @takemetothefictionalworld @destiel67bellarke @ohmy-sammy @fightinthepain @vivabucky @waituntilthedustsettles @daydreaming1393 @cumonbucky @inhumans-of-shield @basicwhiskeyprincesss @soulfull-ofevans @spookass @glitterintheairblog @girl-with-wild-dreams @frickin-bats @darkestgrungeuniverse @shamvictoria11 @buckyappreciationsociety @sammysgirl1997 @fly-f0rever @archer-whovian-violinist @jenn0755 @anamarieswift2194 @unicornofdanger @ifyoudie @jealousbitxh @stormin-thru-glitter @sparklyaura @stilescstilinski @curlyxtomato @katshrev @its-sanaa-k @theoismydad @im-a-light-child @tmriddler @flirtswithdanger @divide-supermarketflowers @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @introverted-fandom-human @jennylj16 @potterandbucky @harleenq4life @runs-with-sciss0rs @superhero-lover101 @ridingmoxley @edward-lover18 @ridingmoxley

Stranger Things Tag List

@bilesmccall

#steve harrington imagines #stranger things imagines #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x werewolf!reader #joe keery #stranger things season 2 #hawkins #demodogs #eleven #mike wheeler #dustin henderson #jim hopper #will byers #nancy wheeler #jonathan byers #joyce byers #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #billy hargrove #fight #angst #fluff #werewolf!reader #agentsofsupernaturalmarvel #caitsy and ash productions