#and dared to die without returning his fucking pencil first

[zephyrins]

I want Luka to believe Till is absolutely broken and depressed but Till casually walks onto the scene and blows everyone up with the most heavy metal song ever

[sorry-i-ship-drarry]

37. You're my home, draco

Putting their head on other's chest | For @thebusyfangirl for being extremely supportive with all the reblogging, I cannot thank you enough| angst | hurt comfort | happy ending | fluff

" well that's not my problem harry, is it ? If you can't fucking do one thing on your own that's your damn fault " draco yelled from across the kitchen at harry who was standing in the middle of the living room looking agitated

" I do things on my own. It's that you are the one who keeps thing's in the house, not me and if you're not responsible enough for it just say it " harry yelled back.

Furiously draco stomped out of the kitchen " responsible? So this is your house when it's about the house lease and paper's and suddenly when it comes to keeping thing's, it's mine. When was the last time you were responsible enough to keep things in the right place on your own? If for once you could fold your own clothes or do your own laundry or maybe just not fucking throw things anywhere you want to, so I'd pick up then maybe, Maybe for once you wouldn't have to ask me where your shit is !! It's not just my own responsibilities " draco yelled at harry face talking off the apron off his waist

" you know what you are right, I'll do my damn shit on my own Because you're fucking irresponsible with whatever you do. After all why would you understand the load of work I have to do each day, going after the bad guys.. if even for one day you'd go things I do then you'd understand where I'm coming from But if this is the way it's going to be, you do your own shit and I'll do mine "harry sneered back

" work ? You're saying as if I don't do work? I teach at least 6 classes in a day, check almost 200 copies, sit with a bunch of teachers who are much more older than me, clean the mess of the potions students make, don't you dare compare our work! Just because your work requires more strength or power or maybe responsibility, doesn't mean I don't do shit "

" draco, you're a damn teacher. I am a goddamn auror. I put my life on line everyday so I can make money for us-"

" and you're not the only man making money in this house. I earn only 200 galleons less than you do and that's not even a huge deal so stop making it seem as if you're the man of the House or that you are doing a great deal for me because let me be honest, the only thing you do for me is creating problems and fighting, that's it " draco yelled and stormed out of the house before harry could've yelled back further.

Harry groaned loudly shutting off the house and storming away himself to get away from the horrors the place held. Both of them Only returned much later after midnight at the same time and went to bed immediately without saying even a single word. And the next morning, draco left the house much more earlier than he was supposed to, leaving a note that he'd be at Hogwarts for at least a week as per the requirements by the school board to finish off with the heavy work left pending. At first harry was Happy seeing the note, thinking to himself that the house would be Empty after so Long.

But he was wrong.

At night when he came back to a messed up home, no cooked meal, he felt slightly furious and almost called out to draco but realised quickly that he wasn't home. Not dropping much thought over it, cleaned up the place, freshened up and decided to order food instead of cooking. But 4 days in, harry found himself much more tired and in desperation to just see Draco. The thing was harry knew why draco was staying an entire week at school, he knew his husband very well, he would never leave any pending work but just the realisation that draco needed a break from harry and the house, he found it saddening on a lonely night.

" so what'd he say last before he left ?" Ron asked as they chatting up about their Harry's current problems with marriage over brunch away from work for sometime

" something about him earning not significantly less than me and how I'm irresponsible and creating problems. I'm just tired Ron, lately all we do is fight. You wouldn't believe, just last week we were fighting about changing a wallpaper and you'd expect that it got resolved but it didn't. We didn't talk and that was it. It just- I don't know- like the whole marriage thing really work out for us " harry replied sadly

Ron looked at harry understandingly.." I understand you harry but I don't think he's entirely wrong-"

" so you also think I'm irresponsible-"

" Merlin, don't get your knickers in twist. All I'm saying maybe he isn't wrong. You've fought with me quite often too lately but we're friends harry, but it's different with him, he's your husband. He needs you and you can't possibly deny that you've been nice to people lately. When was the last time you bought Hermione flowers or told her she looked not a today older than she is or the last time you called Ginny about her games or take neville, when did you even call him last to see how he's doing ? The thing is Harry you've been so work involved that you've barely acknowledged the people around you. Remember 2 months after you got married and you told me marrying draco was the best thing you did, what happened to that ?"

Harry's face drew upset, knowing that Ron was in fact right. He'd been so into himself that he had barely made time for the rest of them " I don't know Ron. I just feel like maybe it's all getting out of hands. Like my plates full maybe-"

" like you need a break?"

Harry nodded.

" look Hermione and me have known you the longest and she haven't seen you in so long but she knows somethings up. We know you harry, we understand how you get when you're stressed or angry even but this, this isn't who you are. After everything you've been through and go through each day we understand you but to me you'll always be the harry potter who broke his glasses like a million times in school yet refused to buy new one's because you liked them or the harry potter who hung me by my feet or the harry potter who'd die than leave his friends " ron gave harry the most perfect smile for the situation.

Harry sighed " what am I doing wrong Ron ?"

" you've forgotten who you are and a little maybe the people around you or you're probably letting something eat you alive.. whatever it is harry, do something about it or it'll be too late to fix things" and by that harry knew he meant draco.

Harry nodded at Ron, thinking about what he'd do next to remind his husband, that he is still his lover.

When it came to Saturday night, almost a night before draco would come back, harry firmly sat back on the couch looking at the empty spot besides him with his favourite television show running in the back, yet all he could think was about the memories with draco, the times he made him laugh and now harry didn't even remember in the last one year they've been married the last time harry made his husband laugh. Harry switched off the tv, sighing, getting up from the couch and going into the storage room. He cleared the dust, blowing some away, then turning on a little lamp around the corner. Following his instincts, harry went deeper into the pit of storage and found his things back from the school days. Falling into nostalgia, harry took his school thing's, a few things after that and album's he had gotten made and went back to living room and set everything on the ground.

Memories probably never leave you yet sometimes you need to be reminded of who you are to become who you want to be and that's exactly what harry was doing, figuring out when he became the person he is Today. He went through things after things he had from school, his defense against dark arts books, the model of something science related he made for muggle studies and the albums. Pictures after pictures with people he loved, he found himself drowning into it. It had been so long since the last time he contacted any of them and it saddened him. This isn't who he is, yet somehow this is exactly who he is. As sadness started to fill into his lungs, he finally opened the last box he had retrieve and opened it to find things related to draco. They started going out late in 8 th year and going through a lot of post-war things, Harry had maintained a diary in a muggle way to vent out but most of the end of the diary was filled with how draco looked so good under the moon or how draco was mindlessly biting the top of pencils or biting his lip during class or how his dates went.

Without glancing up harry said " don't leave me "

" how did you know I came ? " Draco asked as he stepped into the living room and sat down next to harry

" you're my soulmate draco, I can sense whenever you're around me "

" you can ?" Draco frowned, not believing harry could still do it.

" just because I've became this huge asshole doesn't mean I've stopped loving you draco "

" it doesn't hurt to remind every once in a while "

Harry looked up finally to see an upset draco sitting next to him with a sad smile " I do tell you I love you "

" when was the last time you said that to me?" Draco asked smiling lightly

Harry frowned lightly, confused but immediately realised he hadn't spoken the words out in almost 5 months " fuck- I'm sorry- shit"

" yeah " draco signed looking down at the things harry was going through " what's all this ?"

" this- school stuff. And this is a box specifically about you " harry pushed the box a little box towards draco

" I own an entire separate box ?" Draco chuckled

" you own an entire different separate place in my life too and I think me becoming an asshole forgot that " harry replied sadly. Draco looked at harry sympathetically before pulling him forward towards him and wrapping his arms around Harry's torso..

" that's all I wanted to hear " draco's voice broke. Harry leaned in further, his head pressed against draco's chest, small tears escaping his eyes and wetting draco's shirt.

" I'm sorry. I never meant to be this problematic and with the whole fighting things. I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you but I just, I'm such an asshole" harry rambled

" you're not an asshole harry. Hey look at me- you are a brilliant man who sometimes needs a break. I haven't been less of an ass to you myself but everyone have a rough patch in marriage and we will get past this too. We're special harry, remember. We're Always special " draco smiled holding Harry's face in his hands

" I don't want to be this person. I just want to be yours and I don't want to fight you, I don't want to yell at you or you to yell at me and i don't want you ever leaving me alone.. I can't- I don't want to be without you draco, I don't know how to be. I've been so selfish that forgot to tell you how much I love you for 5 months, I don't ever want that again. I want to tell you everyday how much I love you. I don't want all these fights, I hate it without you. It doesn't feel like home without you draco, you're my home and with you gone, nothing makes sense, not even me " harry sobbed.

Draco eyes welled up with tears " I don't want all this too harry. I want to be entirely yours and yours forever. I Always Want you to be my home. Fuck I love you- I've missed you so much "

" I missed you too. I love you draco, I love you so so so much, I love you "

" I know you do " draco smiled. He softly kissed the top of Harry's head, then his cheeks, his eyes, his forehead and finally his lips.

" don't ever leave me, ever "

" never " Draco sobbed, their foreheads touching each other, taking in deep breaths with tears running down their faces like a small river.

It was sometime later when they started going through Harry's thing's together with harry cuddled into draco.

" what's this ?" Draco asked as he picked out a small dry petal

" oh, this was from the restaurant I proposed in "

" and this ?"

" this is- I think the handkerchief you left the night we first kissed "

" oh, nice, what this ?"

" I think that's the note I wrote to you to ask you out for first date but never sent it "

" real smooth harry " draco chuckled. Harry rolled his eyes, playfully hitting draco over his chest before picking up and showing him thing's again.

" you still have that paper boat from our first date ?" Draco asked softly gazing at harry

" well- I still think it's the most perfect boat ever made " harry smiled at draco before pressing a small kiss over his lip.

It was harry who Always imagined that, that perfect little boat was the reasons for everything they have right now, but draco never needed to know that, after all he was his special man and he made him the happiest man in the whole world even if sometimes the boat drowned a bit..

Requests open

Day 36- angel | Day 38- set it up, break it up

[zayray030]

Don't Mess With Shiratorizawa's setter

Summary: Semi didn't appreciate having his boyfriend ogled by a bunch of boys. It was time to set things straight.

Relationships: Semi Eita/Shirabu Kenjirou

If those absolute assholes did not shut the fuck up in the next five seconds someone was going to get whacked by his chemistry textbook and then stabbed with a whisk.

And that was the least descriptive killing method that the Shiratorizawa team had for killing the asshole, homophobes that sat on the table in front of them, shit-talking Shirabu, whilst said boy had gone to get a book

“Satori, I need your help to help restrain myself from injuring these boys. I would much rather not inform my father that I have regressed to methods such as punching to let out my anger,” said Ushijima, the usually stoic teen having a demeanour of complete rage surrounding him.

“You're funny, big guy if you actually think I'm going to stop you from killing those brats.” came Tendou’s tight response.

“Semi-San? Are you okay?” asked Goshiki. The poor boy was probably the only thing stopping the team from committing first-degree murder but they could tell it was all being reluctant.

“If one more thing about my boyfriend comes out of those prejudistic assholes and it has to do with the size of his ass, or his clothes, or anything to do with sex then I will personally admit to being guilty at the trial.” Semi threatened darkly and Goshiki resisted the urge to shudder. His Senpai was scary when it came to their setter.

“As his best friend I allow this,” muttered Kawanishi, equally as dark. He did not appreciate hearing that shit come from those boys. Shirabu might be a brat but he was his best friend dammit and nobody was allowed to say anything about him.

Okay, so like let's fast forward a couple of hours ago before the Shiratorizawa boys volleyball team had begun to discuss torture methods on how to kill the idiots talking about their bratty yet adorable setter.

~A few hours ago~

Semi was going to go into cardiac arrest. He was sure of it. That was the only excuse for why his heart had begun racing to the point he was sure he would have to go to his doctor as quickly as possible.

Or maybe it was because seeing his boyfriend (yes! Boyfriend! God, he was never going to get tired of saying it) of three months in an adorably oversized, pink pastel sweatshirt and shorts so short you couldn't see them below the sweatshirt. Along with this ridiculously adorable look, his salty boyfriend had a pair of golden round glasses on and his cheeks were flushed.

Semi Eita would gladly die right here and now and be quite happy with his life. After all, this image of his boyfriend was enough to check everything off his bucket list.

The rest of the team seemed to have the same thought, all of them just staring at his boyfriend as if he was an angel and if they weren't used to his normal saltiness they would have all assumed him to be an angel. Even Ushijima seemed to find his boyfriend angelic cause the normally stoic teen seemed to have his jaw unclenched. And in Ushijima language that practically meant his jaw was dropping.

All except Kawanishi seemed to have trouble thinking as they stared at Shirabu. Kawanishi, the little fucker, had had the nerve to just simply waltz up to the work of art and hug the smaller boy. The boy replied with the same energy as a tame cat turned savage and he aimed consistent kicks at his best friend's ankles.

“Put me down you savage.” the boy hissed and Kawanishi snorted before finally releasing the boy.

“I'm going to ignore the hypocrisy just this once.” said the taller boy.

When Shirabu merely touched he turned around and threw a smug look at Semi, the expression rare on his normally deadpan face. The look screamed, ‘Ha, I get privileges as his best friend that you don't get and you're his boyfriend, bitch.’

Okay, so Semi might be over-exaggerating but it was clear that the second year had it for him, especially after he had started dating Shirabu.

It wasn't that Kawanishi wasn't supportive of his best friend. In fact, he had been ecstatic when the two setters had announced their relationship cause it meant that Shirabu wouldn't be talking about the older boy constantly and asking whether he liked him or if he would be kicked out of the team for being gay and if the team would tell anyone and if it would be like with his dad.

He was glad that his best friend was no longer second-guessing himself but he had seen Kenjirou at his most vulnerable and he wasn't sure he wanted anyone else to see him like that. If Semi wanted to earn the right for him not to be a prettier brat than even Shirabu then he would have to earn the gingers trust.

(Who knew that that time would come in like, the next two hours.)

“Eita,” Kenjirou said, usually monotone voice happy as he walked over to his boyfriend. He'd gained more confidence over the course of their relationship and had started initiating things first now.

Semi had to suck in a deep breath when the small boyfriend wrapped his arms around him. ‘The sweater is as soft as it looks.’

“Baby,” he answered back, with his usual smirk and internally cheated when the boy blushed and puffed out his cheeks. From the corner of his eyes, he could see Tendou clutch his chest and he couldn't blame him, Shirabu was adorable.

“Loser,” he mumbled, face still burning and stud on his toes to peck his cheek. The boy quickly turned around, cheeks flushing and walked away, making a show of making everyone follow him. Semi followed, with a giddy grin on his face. He so wasn't going to get used to that.

Everyone, although still slightly shook at seeing their feral setter in such adorable attire, followed the shortest player.

“So, Kenjirou~” began Tendou, leaning into his Semi’s boyfriend. Out of a fit of jealousy and not really thinking about it, he pulled the younger onto his lap and shot Tendou a glare. His boyfriend however seemed more reactant to the surprising touch, if the immediate blush didn't say anything.

The redhead on the other hand simply smirked at the reaction before turning to the boy with uneven bangs.

“I didn't know you couldn't look so cute!” he teased. Wrong thing to say, which was made clear when Taichi immediately tensed and winced.

“Problem?” Shirabu answered testily and Tendou knew he accidentally stepped on a nerve far too raw to be touched.

“Well, I wasn't going to say it's bad. Just different. Which suits you.” he says, trying to salvage the situation and make the air less tense and awkward.

That wasn't enough for one Shirabu Kenjirou however, and he continued to scowl, turning back to his text.

“What Satori is trying to say,” and Ushijima, ever the peace-loving farm boy he was, decided to help Tendou with indirectly apologising to their underclassmen. “Is that you do indeed look different. But you also look cute and content. And I feel like that should be enough.” his normally blunt voice softened a degree as if to not scare the boy that idolised him so much.

Kenjirou just blushed and everyone present wished that they had the ability to sneakily take pictures on their phones.

Semi simply cuddled Shirabu’s back and continued to work on his assignment, adamant on both ignoring his boyfriends best friends glare and cuddling with his boyfriend. It was peaceful and quiet, and everyone in the Shiratorizawa volleyball team felt themselves relaxing a significant bit.

However, that all changed when Shirabu got up to grab a book from the shelves to help him on one of the essays that he was stuck on and too stubborn to ask help for.

“You know you can always ask, right?” asked Reon, apparently one of the fastest to recover but nor completely. He at least had the human decency to not stare at Shirabu as if he was an object.

“Hmph,” replied Shirabu, already moving away. Everyone around the table chuckled at the sheer stubbornness before returning back to their studies.

Or at least that's what they would have wanted. Instead, they began being subjected to a bunch of immature boys talking about Shirabu.

“That ass looks tight.” one of the guys jeered, annoying voice lowered down enough so the librarian couldn't hear.

“I know right? Always knew that little brat was a slut.” another continued.

“Think we could corner him later and see if he is as tight as he looks?”

“I doubt he is. But, why the fuck not. Would love to see him put in his place.”

A small snapping sound came from the table where the volleyball team were at and Eita realised it was because he had snapped the pencil in his hand. And it had been his favourite one as well.

And that's how we got put in this situation.

“Bet you his volleyball teams already had a go at that ass. There's no other way he could have possibly made it on to this team without having to bend over for them.”

Semi stood up after hearing that. No way were they going to insinuate that his boyfriend, the guy who worked his ass off day and night to stay on as first string and to also keep up his grades, was only on the team because they were fucking him. No fucking way.

Nobody tried to stop him as he walked over to those boys. Taichi even looked excited at the thought of Semi beating them up.

“Hello there.” he greeted, flashing them all a bright smile.

Immediately, they all stiffened. He could faintly hear an ‘oh shit’ but his grin just became sharper. They wouldn't be feeling regret in the first place if they had kept their damn mouths shut.

“So I couldn't help but hear you guys talk about my boyfriend, Shirabu Kenjirou?” he questioned sweetly, but everyone could see the venom on his eyes, daring them to say anymore. Seems like some of the students at Shiratorizawa had death wishes.

“Oh yeah? And what about it? You gonna invite us to fuck his tight ass?”

Everybody stared at the boy, all wondering how in the great Lord's name he had managed to get into Shiratorizawa.

“No. I'm giving you an opportunity to shut the fuck up before I beat you into the next century,” he replied sweetly and he could see a few boys scooting away from the one who had been oh so stupid to try and provoke Semi. At least some seemed to be getting their survival instincts back.

“Oh yeah? And what are you going to about it you fag-” the boy never got to finish his sentence and he doubted the boy would ever be able to speak again, out of fear or physical inability who knew, as a fist connected into his mouth. The boys around them didn't say a peep but their eyes widened and they all huddled together scared. Good.

“Here's out it's going to go, k buddy boy? You are going to never look, talk or think about my boyfriend or me again? If I ever hear you say any of those words I will find you and show you the true power of the Shiratorizawa volleyball team.” his voice had gotten deeper and he could hear one of the boys whimpering.

When the boy who's collar he was holding nodded in fear he let him go and he fell into a crumpled heap on the floor.

“That goes for the rest of you,” he added back to the boys behind him who were trying to escape. Immediately they all nodded, all in fear. Immediately he flashed them all a grin that caused the fear in their eyes to grow. “Perfect! Hope to never see you assholes ever again,” he said brightly before making his way back to his table.

When he finally got there he was swarmed with quiet congratulations however Taichi stayed silent. After everyone finished praising Semi he spoke.

“If you hurt my best friend I will make you wish for death. Currently, I am holding you in high respect. Fuck that up and you'll be lower than those assholes.” and that had to be the most passion the normally dead inside boy had used.

“Got it,” Semi said, giving him finger guns. The look of utter disgust on the redhead's face made him let out a small laugh.

“What's gotten you so happy in a library?” came a voice from behind him and when he turned around it was his own personal angel.

“Nothing, sunshine,” he said, pulling the younger in between his legs and wrapping his arms around him. “I'm tired. Can we go back,” he whispered into the ear, hands grasped tightly onto his hips.

He could hear Shirabu tsk but his boyfriend complied. “Fine. Let's go you lazy, cute, jerk.” he huffed, cheeks blazing.

Semi just chuckled, bending down slightly to give the boy a kiss on the cheek.

He quickly packed their stuff up and waved bye to their friends. After that Shirabu went up to the librarian and asked to check out the book he had gotten for their studies.

Once they were outside Shirabu turned to him, face a mixture of gratitude and annoyance.

“You know you didn't have to do that, right?” asked Shirabu, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

“If somebody tries to talk shit about the people I care about they will get the shit beat out of them. A fair system if I do say so myself,” said Semi, not even bothering to beat around the bush.

Shirabu stared at him and it was clear the boy was about to have a go at him before he yawned. “We'll finish this off when I don't feel dead on my feet, clear?” threatened Shirabu.

“Pfft, sure darling. Meanwhile, I'm going to take you to your dorm. And don't bother trying to argue with me.” he added when he saw Shirabu opening his mouth in protest.

The copper blonde shot him a glare before walking ahead. Semi merely chuckled, before going after him, slinging an arm around his waist.

By the next day, it seemed everyone had found out about the library incident. Semi managed to get away scot-free since there wasn't any evidence against him and soon the whole school learned not to fuck with the people on the Shiratorizawa team.

Well unless you wanted to die young.

[words-writ-in-starlight]

also 9, 18, 29, and whichever other one you have the most potent Idea(TM) for, for leverage/dishonored au~??

GOD I love that AU so much yeah let’s do that.  Starring Empress Parker, Lord Protector Eliot Spencer, and Natural Philosopher/Inventor Hardison. I lost this in my drafts, sorry about that.

9. What is the most embarrassing thing they have done in front of each other?

Hardison has blown himself up in front of his Empress and her bodyguard so many times that he should be over getting embarrassed by it, but he isn’t.

Parker knows she didn’t actually die--admittedly, the recovery time from jumping over the rail, sorely wounded, and landing badly in the water below the overlook was long enough that she doesn’t hold it against everyone for thinking otherwise, to say nothing of the rest of it--but she hates knowing she lost that fight.  It was an attack she couldn’t have hoped to see coming, literally out of nowhere, and if even Eliot couldn’t stand against it, she didn’t have a hope in hell, but.  She hates knowing that she lost that fight, and she hates knowing that she lost it in front of Eliot, and she hates what happened afterward, and she hates what it did to her people, and she hates what it did to Eliot, condemned to torture in Coldridge for a regicide that didn’t happen, what it did to Hardison, left lying to save his own life in the new court so that he could try to prove Eliot’s innocence, and it’s not embarrassment, it’s so much worse than that, but--  It’s close.

Eliot is both extremely embarrassed and not remotely embarrassed about falling more or less to pieces, when he finds Parker alive.  On the one hand, he’s her guardian, he’s not supposed to look weak in front of her, it’s literally his job.  On the other hand, she’s been dead over a year, Eliot and Hardison have been mourning her like a severed limb for over a year, and now she’s here, scowling and rubbing her wrists where he cracked the cuffs off her after handling Moreau in a very permanent fashion, and--

He’s entitled to a little bit of a breakdown, he thinks.

18. When they fight, how do they make up?

So...Coldridge changed a lot.

It wasn’t actually Coldridge, it was everything, but if you asked any of them, it was Coldridge.

Eliot and Parker have had some fucking arguments in their day, mostly early on, when Parker was a recently corralled and unwilling imperial heiress and Eliot was a Lord Protector that she picked because she thought he would be easy to convince into slacking off.  Unfortunately for her, Eliot has never slacked off a day in his life, and the first time he caught her sneaking out via rooftop, he shouted at her like no one had dared shout since she was crowned.  She yelled right back at him, but--

Ultimately, the thing is, he was only angry with her when she put herself in danger.  She learned to think a little more carefully about what was likely to get her killed in a way that Eliot couldn’t protect her from, and Eliot learned to let her run a little wild, for her own sanity, as long as she took him with her and didn’t do anything actively stupid.

Eliot and Hardison bickered constantly, of course, and if either of them crossed a line, they’d go out of their way to make it up to each other--Eliot would leave one of Hardison’s favorite meals on the table so he’d remember to eat while he worked, or Hardison would build Eliot some new inadvisable gadget and invite Parker to come watch them test it for an hour or three.  On the rare occasions that Parker and Hardison really fought, Parker would hide for a few hours and then Hardison would corner her and they’d have an emotional conversation about it and then they’d be fine.

And then...well.  Then Parker was murdered, and Eliot was blamed for it, and Hardison was forced to lie for a year to stay alive in Moreau’s new court, and--

A lot’s changed.

Parker just wants things to go back to normal, as if she’d never been presumed dead for a year--she can’t bear the way they treat her like glass.  Hardison is being eaten alive with guilt for what he said to the court, the lies he told to survive--he can’t let himself be angry with Parker or Eliot, under any circumstances, when he feels so much more to blame for everything.  And Eliot--Eliot can’t speak.  Can’t sleep much.  Doesn’t like to be touched without a warning, doesn’t like to be alone, doesn’t like having his coat taken away from him, never goes anywhere without three knives.  He hates teaching them sign language, but he hates not being able to talk to them more.  Parker suggests bringing in a tutor, someone who knows the Serkonan sign language Eliot learned as a teenaged sellsword, and he scowls deeper and deeper until finally he just.  Walks out of the conversation.

Parker is in possession of what could be called interrogation records, if you wanted to make the understatement of the century, so she knows that Eliot’s voice is gone for good.  So does Eliot, if he’s forced to admit it.  Too much damage from that time he almost cut his own throat, from his tongue being cut out, from screaming until he tore all the tissue to tatters.  He just--hates it.  He hates it.

He takes a few hours to pull himself up onto the roof he used to yell at Parker for crawling on, and just sit there and mouth curses in every language he knows.  Then he takes some deep breaths, and climbs back down, and goes back and finds the Empress again.  

29) Why do they fall a little bit more in love?

After they fix things--as much as they can fix, dragging every one of Moreau's lies into the light and scorching the fucking earth on his entire network--Parker sits up late at night, in the darkness of her quarters lit by the dull glow of the city below her windows. This isn't particularly new. None of them sleep all that well anymore. God knows she woke up from a nightmare. But tonight is...quiet. She's the only one awake.

Hardison is still asleep on the lounge, a sketch for a new kind of crossbow open under his hand and his head tipped toward the bed. Eliot is asleep on the bed, his back to the wall--Parker made them move her bed into the corner, after she came back, after probably decades of the imperial bedchambers being unchanged. He's curved toward her like a parenthesis, and he slept through her waking, something he hasn't done since she returned. The dim blue light of the city softens all the scars of the last year and a half, until Hardison's hands are clear of burns and Eliot's throat is unmarked. Parker can see them both breathing, slow, almost perfectly synchronized.

It's only because she's watching so closely that she sees Hardison stir and grimace, flexing his pencil hand and cracking all the knuckles. She holds a finger to her lips, and he nods, and she gestures him toward them.

That does wake Eliot up, the motion of the mattress sinking down as Hardison settles on her other side, and her guardian jolts up automatically. He makes a gesture toward the pair of them, not sign but an obvious pantomime of switch with me.

"You gotta sleep, man," Hardison says quietly, gently, and Eliot's face goes forbidding, and Hardison reaches out across Parker, moving with a syrupy half-asleep slowness that's probably at least half genuine, but also gives Eliot plenty of time to knock him away. Eliot doesn't, and Hardison pinches Eliot's sleeve and tugs on it like a kid, the way he used to when Eliot was ignoring him.

Parker blinks at Hardison's arm, stretching over her, and grabs Hardison by the wrist. He lets her manhandle him without a fight. She sets his hand on top of Eliot's, and then wriggles down until she's lying down between them, their joined hands on her belly, rising and falling with each breath.

"There," she tells Eliot. "This way, if we move, you'll wake up."

Eliot's hand is clenched around Hardison's fingers so tightly that it makes his knuckles white, and Hardison squeezes back, and Parker wonders if maybe it's not worth it, if maybe they should just let Eliot go back to watch and stop trying to honeypot him into a full night of sleep. But then--then Eliot lets out a breath and visibly forces his fingers to relax, and rubs a thumb over the burn scar on the back of Hardison's hand.

He nods, and Parker nods back.

She doesn't know how much Eliot managed to sleep, by the time they wake up in the morning, but his drawn, grey pallor is a little less in the sunlight.

[writingpitcheswearingpearls]

Drawn to You

Summary:  When Danny goes to a psychic to get his soulmate drawn, he's expectantly pretty confused about why she's drawn him with a colour palette change.

Read on Ao3

Danny had been having a pretty good day with his friends, using their free Saturday to go to the arcade. In an attempt to not burn through all their allowance before they could save up for the upcoming Doomed game, Danny and Tucker painfully had to request Sam to drag them away from the venue once they hit their budget. Despite the grumbling he’d done when Sam followed through with it, Danny still felt it was a good day overall. That was, until they crossed paths with the A-Listers from school.

He was hoping that if they kept their heads down, that the trio could pass the popular kids without being noticed. When Paulina gasped at something she saw in a shop window and got them all to look with her, he felt like it might just work.

“Oh look, a psychic who draws your soulmate!” She exclaimed excitedly, jumping up and down and clapping. Being distracted by the movement was enough for Dash to catch sight of him in the shop window reflection. The tall boy wore a malicious smirk before chortling.

“Fenturd doesn’t have to pay her to know he’ll die alone.” The bully teased loudly, turning and jabbing Danny in the collarbone. To Danny’s surprise, the comment hurt a lot more than the harsh jab that would probably bruise later. He was a loser after all, so how likely was it that he’d die alone? If he did have a soulmate, they’d probably rather be caught dead than be his soulmate and ask for a refund. Who in the world would ever want to be his soulmate?

“Shut up Dash! Danny’s far more likely to have a soulmate than someone as awful as you!” Sam growled defensively, pushing herself between Dash and Danny. Dash glowered at her furiously, puffing up his chest as he towered over her.

“You think because you’re a girl I won’t wail on you, Manson?” He sneered in an imposing tone that frightened Danny but seemed to have no effect on Sam.

“No, I think you won’t wail on me because if I sue you for it I can afford far better lawyers.” She quipped back, folding her arms and attempting to be as tall as possible. Dash went red and was shaking with fury. Danny and Tucker swapped a worried look between themselves. This was usually the best time to start running, but it didn’t seem like Sam was going to back down.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Dash yelled, grabbing Sam by the front of her shirt. Kwan winced, before grabbing Dash’s hands and forcing them away from Sam.

“It means shut up before you do something insanely stupid. Come on, let’s go to the arcade.” Kwan warned, trying to coax his friend away from the trio. With an irritated huff, Dash eventually stopped resisting and stomped off with the rest of the A-Listers.

“Sam, are you okay? That was insane!” Tucker checked, fussing over his friend. Sam swatted him away dismissively, rolling her eyes.

“It was nothing, don’t worry. It’s not like I could just stand there and let Dash talk about Danny like that.” With that statement, both Sam and Tucker shifted their glances to Danny. Feeling uncomfortable with their sympathetic looks, his eyes darted away and locked onto the first thing he saw. The sign that Paulina had pointed out.

Psychic Drawing of Soulmate: $10 Limited Time Only

He was embarrassed to admit the idea tempted him. Had his parents’ lunatic ravings about ghosts finally gotten to him? He knew psychics weren’t real, so why did he want to give this con artist any of his money? Was just the concept of seeing the face of someone who could love him enough to turn him into a gullible fool?

“Danny? Are you okay, bud?” Tucker asked with a concerned tone. Danny snapped out of his thoughts and looked back to his friends, both of whom looked quite worried.

“You’re not thinking about going in there, are you? Come on, Danny! We’re thirteen, we’re too young to be thinking about love and soulmates!” Sam argued, reaching for Danny’s wrist to tug him away from the shop. Reflexively, he side-stepped towards the door to the shop and out of her reach.

“I…I’ll catch up with you later online, okay?” He farewelled, before quickly pulling open the door and escaping into the psychic’s store.

The interior every bit as stereotypical as he expected. Between the dark brown walls, the dim, warm light bulbs in the tiny chandelier, the candles scattered around the room and the velvet curtains drawn over the window, he felt like he had stepped from late afternoon into midnight. This area seemed to be a waiting room, he observed from the reception desk and the line of chairs against the wall.

“Hello, child. Curious about the unknown, or just trying to get away from bullies? I sense fear and hurt in your aura.” Danny whipped around to see a woman standing in a doorway leading to another room. She had curly, auburn hair swept out of her face by a colourful scarf that was tied off behind her neck and draped over her shoulder. A wheat coloured loose-knit shawl wrapped around her arms over the floor length burgundy dress she wore. She was a few bangles away from being exactly what Danny expected a psychic to look like.

“Uh…I saw the sign in the window, so I was wondering if…” He started, finding himself far too embarrassed to continue the sentence. A soft expression of surprise swept the woman’s face.

“You want me to draw your soulmate? But you’re so young!” She exclaimed. Danny nervously wrung the bottom of his shirt in his hands, eyes low and avoiding contact with her.

“I don’t need to meet them or anything. I just… want to know if I have one at all.” He admitted, tears threatening to escape. After an uncomfortable amount of silence, Danny dared to look up at the woman to find her looking at him with an expression of indecision. Noticing him looking at her, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Okay, I will draw your soulmate for you. As long as you keep in mind that it might take a long time for you to meet them, and it might not be easy to win them over if – when you do. This person is a complement to your soul, but we can’t account for free will.” She disclaimed cautiously. Danny couldn’t quite tell if it was authentic, or just vague excuses to explain why her predictions haven’t turned out to be true to avoid being sued. At this point he was far too curious and desperate, so when she asked him for his name and date of birth before asking him to wait while she prepared the drawing room, he obliged.

By the time she returned, his leg was in full nervous bounce mode and he was all too keen to follow her into the drawing room. This space was better lit than the waiting room, which made sense considering what it was for. At the centre of the room was a small round table with a strip of black velvet draped over it and old looking chairs tucked in to either side. He took the seat he was offered and watched as she paced over to another table and grabbed a tray of burning incense and a small sketchpad before she returned and took the chair opposite him at the table.

“I will now tap into the spirit realm and draw upon their energies to find your soulmate. It requires a lot of focus, so please try not to do anything to distract me during the process. I will show you when it is done.” She explained. When Danny gave a nod of understanding, she shifted her weight in her chair and closed her eyes. After a few moments, she began to sway and Danny could see her eyes behind her lids begin to twitch. Suddenly, she opened her eyes and began to draw. Despite her eyes seeming glazed over, she never missed the paper in front of her even when she swapped to a different pencil, seeming completely in the zone. It could have been five minutes or an hour, but eventually the psychic stopped drawing and shook her head as if snapping out of a daze. Danny sat up in his chair excited. He was going to find out what his soulmate looked like. Would he already know them, or would it be a completely unfamiliar face? He watched the woman expectantly, waiting for her to turn the paper around. She looked down at her work and froze with a completely bewildered expression on her face.

“W-What the fuck?” Blurted from her mouth as her eyes remained wide open. Danny felt a pit form in his stomach. What the hell could that reaction mean?

“What’s wrong? Who did you draw?” Danny asked, making no attempt to hide how nervous he felt in his tone. The woman quickly looked up at him, then back at the drawing, before returning her gaze to him.

“Something’s gone wrong. I don’t understand why I drew this.” She stated, looking extremely confused. Danny pushed himself out of the chair and onto his feet.

“What is it? Show me!” He cried out, more and more panicked by the second. The woman’s eyes widened even further and she clung the drawing to her chest.

“That might not be a good idea. Maybe I should try again –”

“No! Give it to me!” He demanded, striding over to her and tugging the sketchpad out of her hands, her reflexes being too slow to stop him. When he turned the drawing side towards himself, it felt like his brain shut down. She’d just drawn him but with green eyes and without filling in his hair dark.

“What the hell? Is this some kind of joke?” He asked, anger rising in his chest.

“What – No! I did what I always do, I don’t know what went wrong!” She replied, panic warping her features. Danny scoffed.

“Yeah, right. Am I supposed to believe some spirits told you that my soulmate is just me in a blonde wig? I knew psychics were fake, why did I think…” He started to complain, stopping himself when he felt tears trailing down his face. He had to get out of there before it could get any more embarrassing. Without any warning, Danny took off, clutching the snatched sketchpad to his chest and bolting all the way home. Angrily, he threw the sketchpad into the back of his cupboard and slammed it shut before throwing himself onto the bed and crying until he fell asleep.

///

Phantom groaned as he saw the contents of Danny’s latest purchase.

“Danny! You already own shoes nearly identical to these!” He berated, hovering over his human half as he reclined on the bed. Danny looked up from his phone to see what Phantom was talking about.

“Oh. Whoops. I’ll return them tomorrow.” He stated, before turning his attention back to the phone. Phantom rolled his eyes. Despite this split not being as severe as it was the first time in terms of personality clashes, Phantom still had moments where Danny’s episodes of laziness were incredibly frustrating.

“If you bothered to keep your closet tidy, you wouldn’t get yourself into situations where you can’t remember what you already own.” Phantom lectured, lingering over the human under scrutiny. Danny sighed as he put the phone down.

“Ugh, you’re right. It just got so bad so fast, so it’s hard to know how to start.” Danny admitted, sitting up on the bed. Phantom smiled at his other half, heart warmed by the maturity to admit he made a mistake. More often than not he found himself enjoying the type of person his other half was. Despite the odd complaint here and there, he was truly grateful it was better this time. He wasn’t sure he’d keep it together long enough for the ghost catcher to be repaired if he had to deal with “fun” Danny instead of “easily distracted but means well” Danny. To be fair, the human had a lot more things to focus on than him. All Phantom had to think about was stopping ghosts and that wasn’t even all the time.

“Tell you what; how about I help you? It won’t seem nearly as daunting with someone pitching in.” Phantom suggested, lowering himself to be level with Danny. The human gave a grateful smile and nod, and the two of them made their way to the closet.

“You work on picking up the clothes that have fallen off their hangers and rehang them, I’ll pick up all the miscellaneous items and see if I can find a more appropriate home for them. Then, the shoes should be easy to deal with.” Phantom instructed, before getting to work. It was strange how much easier it was to have organised thoughts now they were separated. He supposed that was because his thought process no longer relied on getting enough chemicals in order to focus. It was a hidden plus that when Danny was forcing himself to concentrate he made the silliest little faces. Not that Phantom would ever tell him.

After pulling out a basketball, an old school bag, and several old text books, Phantom stumbled upon a sketchpad. Turning it over, he was surprised to see a drawing of himself on the front page. It was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t recall why, just like with any memory from Danny that had happened before the portal accident. For some reason Phantom didn’t have a hundred percent access to those memories, but usually it didn’t bother him too much until now. Why did Danny have a drawing of Phantom before he existed? Attempting to calm down, he tried to rationalise it. Maybe this drawing happened after the current split, and it only seems familiar because it’s him.

“Danny? What’s this?” Phantom asked, turning the drawing to his human half and waiting for what he hoped was a rational explanation. Danny glanced over curiously, but as soon as he caught sight of the sketchpad his face went white and his expression dropped.

“W-Where did you get that?” Danny stammered, looking like he was going to throw up.

“It was in the back of your closet. What’s going on?” Phantom questioned, getting worried. Danny tentatively reached forward and plucked the drawing out of Phantoms hands, staring at the thing like he couldn’t believe it was real.

“I forgot all about this. I was so upset. I wanted to forget about it. I can’t believe…” Danny murmured, trailing off as his gaze drifted from the paper to Phantom.

“Danny, you’re scaring me.” Phantom whispered, watching myriad emotions dance across the human’s face and body language. Eventually, he locked onto nervous and shifted uncomfortably as he struggled to maintain eye contact with Phantom.

“I should explain. When I was thirteen, I went to this psychic who claimed she could draw a person’s… soulmate.” Danny began shakily, blushing with embarrassment. Phantom’s eyes went wide as he realised what the human was saying.

“Sh-She drew m-me?” Phantom asked, voice shaking just as much as Danny’s had. Instead of speaking, Danny offered an awkward nod.

“For you?” Phantom continued to question. Anybody else might have been happy making the assumption, but he had to know for sure. Danny clenched his eyes shut and gave an even more frantic nod. Phantom felt anchored and weightless all at once. He wasn’t just a ghost half, he was a soulmate. To Danny. Phantom felt like he could laugh and shoot up into the stratosphere until Danny’s reaction fully hit him. The human was still sitting with his eyes scrunched up and his body tense, like he was bracing to be hit with a fire-hose. Was this not a happy revelation for both of them? Phantom floated closer to Danny and carefully placed a hand on his shoulder.

“What’s wrong? Do you not want to be soulmates?” The question got Danny to open his eyes and look up at him with a confused, indecisive expression.

“How can we be soulmates? We’re the same person.” Danny mumbled. Phantom paused to think. Sure they used to be the same person, but were they the same person like this? Neither of them was like a duplicate that behaved like an extra limb, and they both had independent thoughts and feelings. Is that all it takes for someone to be a different person? Phantom shook his head and placed his other hand on Danny’s cheek.

“It doesn’t matter how. All I know is that I’m happy by your side and I don’t want to leave. Are you happy? Would you want me to leave?” Phantom spoke softly, yet determined. Danny’s eyes blew wide open as he gazed into Phantom’s.

“No! I mean, I’m happy and I don’t want you to leave!” Danny replied frantically, as if the idea of Phantom leaving was the scariest thing he could think of. Phantom leaning in and pressed their foreheads together, relishing in the human’s body heat.

“If a soulmate is somebody you want to be with forever, then I’d call you my soulmate in a heartbeat.” Phantom quietly declared. He felt the body he was holding shiver.

“Really?” Danny whispered, pulling away just far enough to look clearly in Phantom’s eyes.

“With absolutely no hesitation.” Phantom answered, leaning in and pressing a gentle kiss into Danny’s lips.

Needless to say, when the ghost catcher was finally fixed, they didn’t see a need to use it.

BONUS:

Hayley sipped her tea as she watched the television in her cosy little break room. One of the perks from pretending to have psychic powers was that certain clients sent her gifts when they were satisfied with her work. The tea had been a gift from a woman who had somehow managed to end up with who Hayley had based her “psychic vision” on. All she’d done was look the woman up on Facebook and imagined who would be a good pick for her based on her friends list. Just like always, she didn’t pick until she began drawing. It was more fun that way and required less thinking. The only time her method hadn’t worked was with that poor boy. His teary face haunted her, and she’d questioned why she’d drawn what she had drawn since that day. Maybe that’s why when a certain news story interrupted her program, she immediately spat out her tea at what she saw.

Front and centre of the screen was the face of that boy, only now he had white hair, green eyes, and was shooting bright green beams at a ghost. The newscaster said he was a ghost that came through a portal from the Ghost Zone and Hayley immediately dropped her mug. How could she not? It was easy to be shocked that after hundreds of times of pretending to tap into the spirit realm, she actually had for once. Who knows, maybe she had been tapping into this “Ghost Zone” this whole time, and ghosts were the reason she had been so successful for so many years?

So years later, when she received an invitation in the mail to the wedding of Daniel Fenton and Phantom, she was more than happy to RSVP as attending.

[saladejin]

Solace (M) | 01

4-part Jimin x Reader | fantasy au, school au, magic user!Jimin | Fluff, angst (basically unresolved), smut with some plot 

Summary: Why not spice up your high school life with a teleporting boy of your very own? You find yourself not having a choice in the matter.

While he figures out how to fix his mistakes, strap yourself in for an adventure to remember…

Warnings: Kat’s early ass writing, nothing smutty in the first chapter (bear with me, it gets there lol). 

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2.7k - first chapter

A/N: Okay, okay. As much as I wanted to edit the absolute shit out of this, and make it 10x better, I stopped myself. This was one of the first smut pieces I ever wrote, and it’s quite old, but I really wanted to have some of my older/first-time writing on the blog so that I could have something to look back on and - better yet - improve from! 

I want to look back on it and just think ‘wow, this is absolute trash’, but in a good way. Ya know?

I apologise in advance, yet at the same time I’m hoping some of you out there might find some enjoyment :) 

»»————- << masterlist | next >> ————-««

  If someone had asked you if you believed in magic a year ago, you would have answered ‘no’ without batting an eyelid. It was simply illogical and plain wrong on so many levels to think greater forces out there actually existed. 

Children’s storybooks, fairy-tales, and fictional novels were already out there appealing to the fantasy-ridden minds of the human race, to name a few. So nope, you would never allow yourself to foolishly believe in such silly myths.

Or so you thought. 

Reader’s POV - 2nd Person

“As you can see, this historical movement meant…”

You sighed. Over time, drowning out your teacher’s monotonous voice had become much too easy for your liking. You listened to the whispers and soft giggles of your classmates as they all mucked around and paid little to no attention to the lesson taking place.

The year is only halfway done. Should I consider transferring schools?

This place had taught you nothing for the five years you had been here. High school was something that was originally meant to be an ocean of opportunities waiting to be discovered, but now it seemed like a mere wasteland holding no promise for the future; well for your future anyway.

“Does anyone have any questions?” Your teacher droned, looking at everyone over the rim of his glasses as if daring someone to waste his precious time.

Yeah, what’s the point of being here?

You tapped your pencil absent-mindedly against the lined paper in front of you.

“(Y/n),” Your class friend whispered to you from the seat beside yours. You raised an eyebrow at her with a bored eye roll as she pursed her lips guiltily and glanced at your tapping pencil.

“Do you know what he’s been talking about for the last half hour?”

You almost laughed. “Does anyone?” came the scoff from your lips almost instantly. Your friend stifled her smile with one hand so she didn’t draw any unwanted attention to the two of you.

“You’re right, but I also want to pass this exam coming up. How are we meant to do well here?” She asked with a light growl edging her tone. You could only shrug in response, because the answer was also lost on you and had been for as long as you could remember.

“Tell you what, we should get everyone together and come up with a plan to get him fired,” Your eyes lit up, hands suddenly clasping together as the brilliant idea blurted from your mouth. Your friend looked like she was about to whoop for joy and agree with you, but an obnoxious voice cut her off rudely.

“Miss (Y/n), do you have something to share?” The teacher wore his stern expression, eyes flashing with irritation as he stared you down with menace. You felt the anger burning hotter and hotter the more you looked at his punchable face.

Oh, I’m about to tell you exactly what we were talking about you piece of shit.

You were about to stand up and lay it on him, but something interrupted your outburst. Your classmates shifted their attention from you to the strangely flickering lights on the ceiling. Everyone fell silent as the excitement from seeing their teacher get sassed died down, the atmosphere was eerie as the room suddenly became very chillingly cold.

“Who’s playing a prank? Show yourselves before you get punished even worse,” The teacher shouted into the stagnant air. Nobody answered to him or his threat.

“What’s going on? Is it that kid from the other class messing with us again?” Your friend clicked her tongue while gradually moving to cling onto your arm. You barely felt her touch due to the intense amount of goosebumps travelling along your exposed skin. Students begun to question things loudly and the nerves shook their voices as the weird power outages continued.

“It’s probably just the building’s power. Can we get help from the office?” One boy asked your scowling teacher after a few minutes.

“Yes, that’s probably a good idea,” The bald man shook his head and finally walked towards the closed door of the classroom to check for any tricksters.

Before the boy or anyone else could make a move to get help, the flickering stopped and the temperature seemed to return to normal. Everyone exchanged confused glances until the weirdest spectacle of all occurred right near the teacher’s desk.

A body appeared from literal thin air and landed heavily on the carpet below. There was a muffled groan from the figure and the room filled with gasps and shouts of alarm as the person sat up straighter. It was definitely male, seemingly Asian and probably the same age as you. You blinked your eyes rapidly as you tried to comprehend what had just happened.

“You! Were you playing this prank?” Your teacher screeched as he turned around. He hadn’t seen what had happened, but had heard everyone’s shock and responded immediately.

You watched in amazement as the randomly appearing boy lifted his head and furrowed his brows in confusion. When you looked closer, you could see his chocolate brown eyes gleaming with fear.

He knows just as much as we do…how did this happen?

You being the courageous person you were, got to your feet and stepped around the table tentatively. You didn’t want to approach him just yet because you didn’t know if he was dangerous. Your teacher continued to yell at the boy as you drank in his beautiful night-black hair and perfectly even complexion. You realised just how attractive this person was, but those thoughts had to be swept aside as you recognised the pure terror flooding his gaze.

“I don’t know what’s happening! Please help me, I don’t know where I am,” The boy finally spoke. Well, he spoke, but in flawlessly fluent Korean…

What the-

Your classmates threw even more concerned glances at one another while your teacher just stood still, fully stunned. They hadn’t understood a single word, but you had.

“(Y/n) sit back down, he could hurt you!” Your friend hissed, and you jumped when she grasped at the bottom of your school dress to bring you backwards. The movement caused the strange but beautiful boy to whip his head around in your direction. He was only wearing a casual white t-shirt and loose grey pants with no shoes, but everything looked a little dirtied. How exactly had he appeared here of all places? By what method?

“Hello,” You murmured shakily in his language and squatted down to seem less threatening. You had to muster up what scraps of Korean you knew, as you were known to be the language-centric person of your year level. It was one of your favourite things to do, learn languages, but you never thought it would come in handy for a situation such as this.

“Hello? Do you know Korean?” The boy breathed in a sudden gush of hope and relief. You could’ve sworn tears were pricking at the corners of his eyes, but you weren’t judging because he seemed so lost and scared. You stood up again as he hurriedly got to his feet, his hands trembling and gaze darting around the room from one student to the next.

“I’m calling the principal, we need to figure out what is going on!” Your teacher spluttered before racing from the room, a few pieces of paper from his desk fluttered to the ground as the air rushed past. A few students followed the teacher, and their gazes were terrified from the weird events. You tried to breathe deeply.

“H-how did this happen? I want to be home, argh why did I try that fucking spell?!” The boy cried angrily as he stumbled until his back hit the classroom wall. He buried his fingers painfully deep into his hair and keeled over. You raised your hands, not knowing what to do or how to act. You wanted to help him, but was that okay? Should you even be going near something so strange and unpredictable?

“(Y/n) do you know that language? Maybe you should say something else?” Your friend whimpered from behind you. She had gathered nearby with the other remaining students whose curiosity had gotten the best of them. You felt the overwhelming pressure envelop you whole as your eyes trailed from the group of familiar faces to the frustrated boy.

I have to help him. It’s not something evil, I can tell.

He looked so out of place here, you could see he didn’t have a single clue about what had happened. You carefully moved towards him while ignoring the loud warnings of your friends behind you. You had to know what was happening, and you had to make sure he was okay.

“Um, hello. Who are you?” You asked in Korean, standing in front of him but not too close. You could be as brave as you wanted, but you didn’t want to die just yet.

The boy looked up, his red-rimmed and puffy eyes were the only evidence left of his overpowering emotions. Now he just looked empty with disbelief and shaky with apprehension.

“I’m Park Jimin, just Jimin I guess,” He answered, voice broken and cracking. He seemed weary and emotionally exhausted after all the disorder. You felt seriously bad for him, but still didn’t know how to approach the situation. The only reason all of the responsibility dumped itself onto you was because of your particular skill with language.

“You? What’s your name?” He asked unexpectedly. You looked up from the ground with raised eyebrows, shocked to see that he had taken a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He even managed to smile for a solid second before his full lips pulled into a frown once more.

“Uh, (Y/n). I’m (Y/n), and this is my school,” You tried to explain with your musty skills. He seemed vaguely amused with you, but the humour was lost underneath his crushing anxiety and fear of the unknown. You caught the way he observed you as if he had just seen you for the first time. You could only hope your hair wasn’t too messy.

“This is (Y/c), but how did you get here?” You questioned while using one pointed finger to emphasise what you were asking. He started to explain something quickly, but you only managed to translate a few of the words in your head. He was growing agitated fast, and you regretted asking immediately.

“Hey, hey! Calm down Jimin,” You soothed to the best of your ability, reaching out to touch him but jerking your hands back when you thought about what you were doing. You took one step backwards and sighed, wishing this had never happened.

“Sorry,” He apologised softly.

Before you could protest, your teacher burst into the room with the principal hot on his heels. A few other members of the school’s authority followed, and you winced when you thought about how scary and intimidating the whole thing looked. You turned around just in time to see Jimin’s eyes flashing with more fear.

“It’s okay, they’re okay. They’re teachers, they’ll help you,” You comforted and actually brought one hand up to touch his shoulder. The contact was brief but it seemed to ease some of his worries. He flashed you such an immensely grateful look that your mind short-circuited suddenly. He was really, really handsome.

“Please come here,” Your principal commanded, and to your surprise Jimin looked like he understood to an extent. He pushed off the wall to obey, but looked back as if asking for you to come with him, to be his solace through this hell.

“Do you need someone to help translate and everything?” You piped up hopefully, but you completely expected to be met with the cold hardened stares of the teachers and principal.

“No, we’ll be fine,” The principal assured with a clipped tone, eyeing Jimin as if he were a dirty rag on the side of the street. You clenched your teeth in anger as the party of teachers left with the boy in tow. He saw your frustrated and guilty expression, but only flashed you an understanding smile before leaving the room.

He seems so kind-hearted, I wish he would be treated better. I hope he figures out his shit.

You felt upset, but didn’t know why since you had literally barely met the guy. In all honesty, you should still be scared of him just like everyone else was, but you just weren’t.

“Girl, are you okay? At least that weird person didn’t attack you,” Your friend shook her head in disbelief. The other students dispersed back to their seats and you only noticed then that the rest had returned when the teachers had arrived. Everyone was back and chatting about the strange happening animatedly.

“He wouldn’t. Didn’t you see him? He seemed so afraid, but he was kind,” You argued. You felt angry that nobody seemed to be feeling sorry for Jimin. He was the one that deserved to be scared, not any of you or the teachers.

“I don’t know how you got all that from the small conversation you had, but I guess whatever you say,” Your friend shrugged.

As things seemed to return to normal, you couldn’t push your concerns for the boy out of your mind. Was he okay? What if those cold-hearted teachers shipped him away somewhere just because he couldn’t properly explain how he’d appeared? He could quite easily be sent to the police, or eventually a random orphanage.

“Are you still thinking about him? I’ll admit he was pretty handsome, but that was way too weird! I mean didn’t he just randomly appear in this room?” Your friend grunted, her tone raising as she tried to convince you to think of something else.

“I don’t know!” You widened your eyes, feeling slightly irritated that you couldn’t know absolutely everything, yet you were still expected to. Maybe coming from a family of lawyers did that to you.

Everyone fell silent again and you jerked your head towards the door impatiently. The teachers filtered back in with Jimin, but you blinked firmly when you saw that the boy was dressed in the uniform of your school. His hair was a little neater than when he had appeared, and his eyes were now crinkling along with the striking smile he wore.

“Everyone, please welcome Jimin Park to your class. I’m sure you will all treat this new transfer student with care,” The principal eyed everyone pointedly, just as she usually did, but you sat further backwards in your chair in bewilderment.

“Why-”

“I’m glad to meet you…all. I am (Y/n)’s family friend,” Jimin cut you off and spoke with a broken accent, which in all honesty you and many others found to be adorable.

Wait, my family friend?

You widened your eyes and brought your brows together in sheer confusion. Did you just hear that right? You were about to open your mouth to question him when he flashed you a knowing look. It was a warning, a warning to keep your mouth shut.

“I’m…not good at English. I will try my best, thank you,” He finished and instinctively tried to bow, soon straightening as he remembered he wasn’t in Korea anymore.

“Oh, so this is the dad’s friend’s son you always talk about. Wow, he’s handsome!” Your friend whispered to you with a tiny giggle. You looked at her in shock, mouth hanging slightly open as you tried to grasp what was happening.

The principal left as Jimin moved forward to take the empty seat right next to you. You threw him a glare that demanded an explanation, but you knew it would need to wait for later because your asshole of a teacher was about to start class again.

“Sorry, when we get home I will talk,” Jimin muttered in Korean, leaning towards you so that no-one would overhear. Not that it would matter since you were the only one who could possibly understand him anyway.

“Um, ‘we’? I don’t remember my home being yours too,” You choked out, not even caring if he understood or not.

To sum it up, a random boy had landed in your classroom, caused the whole class and its teacher to freak out, and had then proceeded to alter everyone’s memories somehow.

You were in for one hell of a ride.

           Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[hi-i-love-u-bitch]

Excuse me! But where is my Sanders Sides Gamer AU???

Voices in my head: Gee Bunny, it seems you have no problem writing a lot of other fics and stuff yet you still haven’t even finished the next chapter of your Spiderverse fic???

Me: SHUT THE FUCK UP DISEMBODIED VOICES IN MY HEAD!!! IF YOU WANT THAT FIC DONE SO BADLY TELL MY LOGIC AND CREATIVITY TO GET THEIR ASSES IN GEAR AND GIVE ME SOME GOD DAMN INSPIRATION!!!!

Voices in my head:.....

Me: Yeah, that’s what I thought! Anyways, idk if I just missed a memo or something but I haven’t seen any Gamer AU of my boys and that is a crime in and of itself! Like, how dare! But fret not, I am here to provide content (Read: headcannons) that you did not ask for! Let us begin! Or should I say start!

(please note that I am not a gaming expert so feel free to add or correct stuff)

NOW WITH A PART 2!!!!

MAIN SQUAD

Roman Rosewood

Obviously loves RPGs! Anything with a good story line really! Or has medieval fantasy aesthetic!

Skyrim, Diablo, Undertale, Final Fantasy, Kingdom Hearts, Fallout, Red Dead Redemption, Undertales, Dragon Age, God of War Dark Souls, Assassins Creed, Earthbound, etc.

Played West of Loathing just so he could rip on it but actually ended up loving it and spending way to many hours playing. Then he found out there was a game called Kingdom of Loathing by the same creators and went down that rabbit hole as well.

He was iffy about getting into JRPGs but then Virgil convinced him to play Persona 5 and he absolutely fell in love with the music!

All the music in his phone is either from musicals or Video games!

Also really likes choose your own adventure games like Detroit: Become Human, Life is Strange, and Telltale Games

So much video game merch! Usually figurines because he likes to make little shelves and display cases for them.

He also really likes multiplayer games because he’s a social butterfly and likes to play with his squad.

Sucks at first person shooter games but still willingly plays Fortnight or Call of Duty or Left for Dead with his friends because he doesn’t want to be a drag and complain. But also they sometimes die in game in the most hilarious ways and it just leaves everybody wheezing.

Virgil Dante

Horror games, obvs!

All about that dark aesthetic!

Devil May Cry, Silent Hill, Fran Bow, Sally Face, Resident Evil, The Witch’s House, Amnesia, Little Nightmares, Bendy and The Ink Machine, Alice: Madness Returns, SCP-Containment, Pony Island, etc.

Yes, he’s played all the Five Nights At Freddy’s games. It’s a good series and it isn’t his fault the fandom is bat shit crazy and full of ten year olds! Fuck you Roman!

Every time the Walking Dead comes out he knows he’ll end up crying by the end of it. He and the squad make and event out of it.

Japanese horror games are usually his favorite because they deal more with the psychological aspects of horror instead of the jump scares

So, yes, he’s also a fan of Corps Party and Fatal Frame

Also really good at first person shooters because he has a really steady hand (you usually have to when playing horror games least you want to restart the level) and it pisses Roman off to no end every time Virgil randomly headshots him.

Usually likes to by merch in the form of posters, t-shirts, or beanies. He only buys figurines if it’s a game he really, really likes.

At first didn’t know why people kept bugging him to play Doki Doki Literature Club but then he finally caved and...oh...that’s why.

Logan Mill

My boy loves puzzle and strategy games yo!

Legend of Zelda, Portal, Tetris, Unravel, World of Goo, Inside, Limbo, Pokemon, Shadow of the Colossus, StarCraft, Command and Conquer, Age of Empire, Heart of Iron, World of Warcraft, etc.

He likes Overwatch but doesn’t like playing with people online so he usual solos or asks the others to play. But that too usually ends in chaos.

Hates rage games because he gets frustrated easily and has broken at least four keyboards and two controllers

He still plays them anyways because he can beat it damn it! Just give him a minute!

Enjoys the God of War series despite all the mythological inaccuracies

He plays a lot of Minecraft to relax or destress and has build beautiful works of architecture and sometimes entire cities.

He thought it was stupid and childish and was embarrassed about it for a long time until the squad came over to his house one day uninvited and caught him playing. He was getting ready for them to make fun of him but they instead gushed about how AMAZING everything looked and how TALENTED he was for building all himself.

Logan ends up showing them how to play afterwards and they work together to make weird sculptures and complex tunnels underground.

He likes practical merch like backpacks, coffee mugs, pencil holders, notebooks, ect. as well as a few t-shirts and novelty ties.

Yes, he does collect Pokemon cards!

Patton Adley

Silly dating sims, farming games, and any cute game really! Plus a few side scroller games!

Stardew Valley, Harvest Moon, Slime Rancher, The Sims, Dream Daddy, Animal Crossing, Kirby, Monster Prom, Hatoful Boyfriend, Scribblenauts, Night In The Woods, Ni Nu Kuni, etc.

Big Nintendo fan!

He made the mistake of playing Doki Doki Literature Club without reading the warning tags and regrets it immensely...still a good game though.

He did the same thing with Huni Pop but that one made him laugh more then anything and he kind of got addicted to it. Then he found out there was a sequel called HuniCam so he went down that rabbit hole too.

He likes a lot of phone app games too like Cut the Rope, Neko Atsume, and Candy Crush.

Loves trashy dating app games, he thinks they’re so funny and cheesy

He was addicted to Mystic Messenger for a long while

Just because he has his preference doesn’t mean he won’t try other games too, Logan got him hooked on World of Warcraft (though really he did that to everyone), Virgil showed him Hollow Knight, and Roman suggested he play Undertales.

Prefers merch in the form of plushies and key chains!

He likes to bake and decorate cookies, cakes and pastries in the form of his favorite video game characters.

RED SQUAD

Duncan [Deceit] Adley (Patton’s twin)

A lot of first person shooter and combat games!

Doom Series, Super Smash Bros, Mortal Combat, Halo, Fortnight, Grand Theft Auto, Street Fighter, Tekken, Soul Calibur, Half-Life, Team Fortress, Destiny, Wolfenstein, Bio Shock, Splatoon, PUBg etc.

Patton was the one that introduced him to Splatoon and he won’t admit that it’s actually super fun.

Doesn’t mind story driven games and RPGs but he really just wants something he can zone out to and relax

He likes to troll people online, mainly assholes picking on little kids who just want to play.

He once teamed up with a group of kids on Call of Duty solely for the purpose of collectively kicking the asses of this groups of so called “real gamers” that were being jerks.

Has memorized all the combos! He doesn’t have time to sit and look up a cool finishing move, he needs it now!

Always mains the weakest/most useless character in fighting games and still manages to kick everyone’s ass.

Doesn’t have a preference in merch and usually grabs whatever he likes be it figurines, t-shirts, posters, plushies, or whatever, so long as he likes the game it comes from.

Has several tattoos from his favorite games

Emile Picani

Classic retro games, cartoonish games, and Nintendo are his jam broham!

Mario, Classic Sonic, Paper Boy, Transylvania, Spyro, Pac Man, All the Saga Disney games, Duck Hunt, Mario Kart, Galaga, Mega Man, Donkey Kong, Secret of Mana, Banjo-Kazooie, Conker’s Bad Fur Day, etc.

Absolutely fell in love with Shovel Knight when it came out!

Remy got him into all the indie pixel games: Towerfall, Terraria, Owlboy, Hotline Miami, Papers Please, Celeste, One Shot, etc.

Duncan was the one that introduced him to Cuphead and the usually play it together and see how far each of them can go without dying.

The game is difficult but the art is still so breathtaking!

Likes the occasional psychological thriller game

Bet Virgil showed him Alice: Madness Returns and Doki Doki Literature Club (after he’s played it of course)

Likes plushies and figurine merch with the occasional poster and coffee mug.

Likes to doodle a lot of his fav video game characters and cartoons and is actually really good at it. He helped design most of Duncan’s tattoos.

Remy Knightly

Likes a lot of indie games and old online flash games!

The Stanley Parables, Oxenfree, Inside, Firewatch, Super MeatBoy, The Binding of Issac, Donut County, Henry Stickman series, Impossible Quiz, Crush the Castle series, Hyper Light Drifter, etc.

He always gets everybody hooked on one game or another

He convinced everyone to play Undertales so for like a month they all went through a HUGE Undertales faze.

Was the actual, ACTUAL one that showed Duncan Cuphead because he knew the dork would be reminded of Emile because of the animation and would want to show it to him and play multiplayer (*cough* subtle matchmaker *cough*)

(Do not be fooled, he is a pinning boy himself)

Is up to date in all the gossip of the latest games and consuls, indie or mainstream! He’s in the know, know and if you need to know something chances are Remy probably knows it.

Weeds out through all the indie horror games for Virgil and recommends what he thinks are the best ones.

Same thing with Logan and his puzzle games, he’s usually is able to find very strange ones and Logan seems to likes those best.

Obviously has a lot of merch in coffee mug and thermal form as well as a few key chains.

Occasionally streams on Twitch with Duncan and Emile (sometimes inviting the main squad too), they’re commentary is usual hilarious.

[waywardxson]

Rotting in Vain

Who: Rory, Derek ( @derek-ghoulie ), Darius ( @sshardassanderson )

What: Rory fails a test, is punished, and gets help in an unexpected place

When: Nov 6, Evening

Where: At House of the Dead, Trailer Park, Dare’s place, Hospital

Notes: TW for a lot of violence, arson, fire, murder, kidnapping

Derek

Derek sent the message to Rory with a sharp snap of his burner and stuck it back into his pocket. He was going to put the ghoulie through the ringer tonight, and solely to see just how dedicated he was to the task. To being loyal. Derek had been doubting his loyalties from the beginning, only now he knew exactly where his daughter was, knew that he could easily gain access to her, and knew he’d have nowhere to turn to but Derek for mercy. He sat down with his dog and waited for the man to show up. If things went well then it was just icing on the cake.

Rory

Rory felt a growing sense of dread with every step he took. Hands dug deep in his pockets, he slouched all the way to his truck and took a cigarette out of his emergency pack. He didn't smoke around Grace but sometimes after a fight it helped calm him down on the ride home. Rory had been hesitant and worried about what Derek would do from the moment he'd showed up and sent everything in a whirlwind. Aaron was gone, and the girls fawned over their 'daddy' like he hadn't just leveled their normal with his new normal. Rory parked, his face a shaggy mess now that he didn't have his little girl yelling at him to trim his beard. Flicking away the cigarette, Rory walked in, doing his best not to look like he was terrified of what Derek was going to say. When he found the new boss, Rory simply nodded at him. "Hey, man. You wanted to see me?"

Derek

Staring down Rory as he entered as if he could smell the fear on him, Derek gave a curt nod and then scratched his Shepard’s head again before urging the dog to go. The dog sniffed Rory once before bounding out of the room. Derek stood up and moved into Rory’s personal space, leaving only a foot or so of distance between them. “Smoking’s gonna kill you.” He commented. “Tonight. You’re going to head over to Sunnyside trailer park. Two serpent twins are going to be coming home after a fun night, and they’re going to come to an even more fun conclusion. I want to send a very clear message to the Andersons. Go to the trailer. Seal it up with them inside, doors, windows, everything. Use this,” He kicked a canister at his side. “All around the trailer. And burn it down.”

Rory

Rory clenched his jaw, watching the dog as it moved past him. He had no doubt in his mind that it would probably attack him if Derek told it to. He had been against dogs for a reason - he hated them after he'd been attacked when he was a kid. Once it was gone, he looked up and found himself close enough to Derek to make him want to step away. Of course he couldn't. He wasn't supposed to show that kind of fear so he forced himself to stand still. "If life doesn't kill me first," he said simply. But then the instructions came and Rory looked down at the canister, knowing exactly what was in it. It played out in his head in an instant. Sealing the trailer. Setting it on fire. Hearing them scream. He couldn't do that-- he wouldn't do that. "You.. want me to set two people on fire?" He asked, perking an eyebrow. "Don't you think that's a little dramatic? I'm more of a fighter than an arsonist. I could just beat them up." It would be preferable.

Derek

For a moment, Derek leaned back, arms folded across his broad chest as he stared Rory down. It was all written across his body. Uncertainty. Fear. Resistance. It was why he targeted the daughter. She’d be safe, he wasn’t a complete monster. What he’d want in the end was Rory to suffer for what Derek was positive he’d fail at. The dog curled up into a corner, watching the scenario unfold with a protective, watchful eye. “It’s not up for you to decide if it’s dramatic or not. If I wanted them beat up, I’d send someone else. This is what I want you to do. Nobody else. And this is how I want it done.” He extended a folded up piece of paper. “I’ve marked the trailer for you. They’ll be home at 7:30 for family dinner. Maybe you’ll get lucky and the parents won’t be there too but...collateral damage happens sometimes. No survivors. No trace evidence. Am I clear?”

Rory

There wasn't much of Rory that trusted he could change Derek's mind but that didn't mean he couldn't try. However, he was quickly rebuffed and his throat went tight though he tried to train his expression not to give off the look of hopelessness. Looking down at the paper, he studiod the layout, the trailer, then he crinkled it in the palm of his hand. Holding it back out to Derek to take, he said, "No evidence." Both in agreement of his plan, and not to leave even the shred of paper behind. He looked down at the canister and tried to swallow the knot in his throat but it was a huge, arson-slash-murder sized knot. His phone buzzed and Rory took a quick glance at it. Seeing Riley's name, he declined the call. He couldn't talk right now. He needed to think. He needed to plan and process. When the call came from a second time, he switched his phone off and shoved it in his pocket. "Who are they?" he asked but immediately knew it wouldn't matter.

Derek

The paper returned to his hand and Derek nodded, tucking it away. He’d dispose of it later but he sincerely doubted this evening would play out with four dead bodies. Stone-faces, he handed the canister to Rory and watched as he switched his phone off, expectantly raising a brow as if Rory were going to explain who the hell was calling. But Derek knew. A little blonde girl was missing after all. Behind Derek was a large closet door where little Grace was napping quietly. “Serpents.” Derek answered flatly. “Why? Do you think if I said ones a pedophile you’ll have a guilt-free conscience? We all have to make bold moves in this war and that’s just what this is. Better to let that little teen bitch die than to birth another Snake-to-be.” He had no evidence that the serpent girl was pregnant but he laid on the implication thick. “No survivors. I’ll expect you back here when it’s done. Now go.”

Rory

Rory knew better than to question him. Derek wasn't the kind of man you could question. He told you what to do and you did it. That simple and that complicated. He knew when he was excused so Rory simply turned and walked outside. He held his composure climbing in the truck, kept a straight face as he started it and drove down the block, and fought back any signs of fear until he drove out of the neighborhood. Once he'd made it far enough away, he pulled over on the side of the road, balled his hands into fists, and punched the steering wheel over and over, almost wishing he could break it right off. But that wouldn't be enough of a reason to keep him from doing this, not to Derek. 

 He raked his hands through his hair and leaned forward, spying the canister in the floorboard. This was what he was afraid of. Aaron had never ordered him to kill someone in cold blood, and Rory was sure that he couldn't have done it even if the previous leader had. Rory knew that he was a general piece of shit human but he wasn't capable of murder. He didn't care if they were Serpents, or just Southsiders. Or Northsiders. Or anyone - he couldn't. 

 But what choice did he have?

Still trying to figure something out, Rory checked the time on the clock of his truck, not even venturing to turn his cell phone back on. He couldn't talk to Riley right now. What would he tell her? *Hey, sorry I missed your call but I was just given orders to filet some snakes. Catch you later?* - No. He needed to do something and he needed to do it fast. He checked traffic and pulled back onto the road, making his way to the trailer park. 

 Every second he came closer made the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach grow until it was an all-consuming ache that he couldn't breathe through. He couldn't kill anyone. He couldn't kill a pregnant girl. He couldn't kill. Period.  Rory parked at the end of the street and sat in the truck, waiting until the time turned, all the while playing out different scenarios in his head until it hit 7:30 and he didn't have a single one that worked. No matter what he did, he was fucked. That was the thought he carried as he grabbed the canister in the darkness and tossed his third cigarette out the window. If he'd had Weston money, Rory would have just paid the family to disappear. He'd burn the place down and act surprised that no one had been there - but he didn't have that kind of money. Even with his win from the last fight, Rory had dumped it all in paying for Grace's school and buy her new things. She’d loved her new backpack and pencil case. She never had new things and he’d been so proud to buy those folders with the glossy shine. After paying his rent for the month, he was broke again.

Gripping the canister, Rory looked up at the trailer that he was supposed to hit and even though he didn’t know what he was going to do, he had to start working. The longer it took, the longer it would be before he got back to the House of the Dead. The longer he took the get back, the less Derek would trust him and no matter what, he needed to keep that trust if he was going to survive this -- if the people he loved were going to survive it. Twisting off the top, Rory hated himself as he started to splash the gasoline around the bottom of the trailer. Night had fallen enough to keep his body in shadows, especially thanks to a streetlamp that was going out on the corner. He’d actually wished it hadn’t been going out. If he was in light, someone could call the cops. Maybe that was it. If he could make enough noise, someone would hear and call the police and then he could run off without doing any of this. That wouldn’t be his fault, right? Derek wouldn’t blame him for that. But that didn’t mean Derek wouldn’t make him try again. 

Still, Rory started making more noise as he walked around the house, boots crunching dead leaves as he splashed the gasoline with enough gusto that he hoped someone inside would notice. But as he made it to the back of the trailer where he’d started, it was all too obvious that no one had heard a single thing. He cursed under his breath, dropping the empty canister back on the ground at his feet. He needed to do something and he had to do it now, before it was too late. 

Nervous tick alone had him playing with the lighter, flashing it for a moment before extinguishing it, and then again, over and over.

“Knew you couldn’t do it,” a voice said, stealing Rory’s attention and making him jump. He felt stupid that he’d been that distracted he hadn’t heard someone come up behind him. Or had he always been there? 

Rory recognized the Ghoulie that stood there, a look in his eyes that was pure apathy. It wasn’t hate. It wasn’t happiness. He just existed and Rory knew instantly that someone like Junk wouldn’t have had a single hesitation setting the trailer on fire. 

 “What are you talking about?” He asked Junk, trying to act like he hadn’t been hesitating. Rory turned to face him but all his eyes could focus on was the zippo in his hand, the flame at the end. Then it all happened like it was slow motion. 

The lighter was tossed, he watched it curl through the air. He hand shot out like he could stop it but it slipped by, igniting the gasoline the moment it bounced against the side of the trailer. The siding caught instantly and Rory jumped back, shielding his eyes from the heat while Junk stood admiring the chaos as the trailer went up in flames. Rory didn’t think. He charged the man and took him to the ground, punching him in the face. Blood spurted from his nose and mouth, a cut pierced over his eye. He would have kept punching if he didn’t hear screaming from inside the trailer. The first scream erupted and drew his attention. Just as he’d attacked Junk, Rory threw himself on his feet. He couldn’t let people die..

Grabbing a trashcan, he threw it through the window and then climbed in, glass piercing his arms and legs as he did. The smoke had erupted inside, billowing along the ceiling but he didn’t think. He followed the sounds of screaming and was shocked to see the younger woman standing there, cowering with.. two children. Young. Frightened. 

 Fuck. You. Derek. 

 “Come on,” Rory growled, grabbing her arm. She held the two year old that was clinging towards him and Rory scooped up the baby from the crib, hiding her inside his jacket. Covering his mouth with the other hand, Rory asked her where everyone else was when they made it to the window. She pointed down the hall and he quickly helped her out, carefully but swiftly giving her the baby that was now screaming at the top of her lungs.The heat was intense, flames catching on the couch, the walls, pictures and toys. Rory ran through it, kicked open the door and yelled at the two others that were cowering by the bed. When they didn’t move, he grabbed them, yanking roughly and shoving them towards the hallway.

“The living room,” he yelled, coughing through the smoke, pointing. One of them shook her head and ran back to him, throwing her arms around his waist, and Rory tried to push her off. There was a cracking sound and the ceiling in the hallway collapsed, blocking their exit. She screamed and Rory cursed. 

 Bringing his shirt up to cover his mouth, Rory tried to breathe but the smoke was making it exceedingly difficult. There was a small window near the ceiling but he doubted they could get out it without burning so he only had one choice. He had to force his way through the hallway. Grabbing a blanket from the bed, he threw it over the woman’s head and pointed. 

“Count of three.” She shook her head rapidly but Rory had no patience for it. He counted down quickly and then yanked her, forcing her to go with it. The broken wood and flames cut into his legs, knocking him to the ground with her but he didn’t stop.

Shoving her to her feet, Rory practically pushed her out the window. Then he jumped out himself, finding the little group of people and children rushing to their friend. Rory coughed, face down in the grass as he shoved his hands into the ground, already knowing that he was absolutely, and completely fucked. Looking up, he asked if that was everyone, trying to make sure they were all safe. He didn’t even breathe a sigh of relief until they assured him that was everyone. Even as they thanked him and hugged him, Rory felt like a piece of shit. One of the ladies called the fire department and Rory took that as his leave. He’d even forgotten about Junk until he walked around the back of the house to grab the canister and found the grass empty. 

 “Fuck...” 

He needed to get back to the House of the Dead before Junk did. Jumping into his truck, he backed out as fast as he could and slammed his foot on the gas, not sure what excuse he would use but certain he needed to talk to Derek first.

Derek

By the time the report came in that Rory had rescued the family, Derek had already moved Grace to a different location. She’d be safe, provided that Rory was able to follow through on one last simple task since it was quite clear that he couldn’t listen. He excused the ghoulie who was only known as Junk and focused his attention on the arrival of his soon to be former ghoulie friend. It wasn’t that he’d rescued the family. His intention was never for the fire to even happen. But Rory didn’t listen, didn’t intend to listen. And that’s where Derek had to draw a line. He was lovingly stroking Pamela’s head when the door opened and Rory entered the room. He lifted a brow and stroked the dog’s head one last time before standing up. “So. It seems that you really can’t follow instruction.”

Rory

How long had it been since Junk took off? Was Rory too late? The other guy didn't have a car that he knew of so maybe Rory got the jump on him. What would he say? Piecing together a quick story about--what? He could say that he fought Junk because he was trying to take his job from him. It would mean Derek would give him another task, maybe another fire, but he could deal with that then. Right now, all he could think about was fucking up too much that the man went after one of the people that Rory cared so deeply for. He didn't turn off the truck when he parked in front of the House of the Dead, running inside as he called out after Derek. But it seemed he was already waiting for him. Rory looked around quickly and at first glance, he didn't see Junk. Maybe he did make it here first. But Derek's words told him he didn't. "Dude, there were kids in there, a baby. I have a kid myself."

Derek

“I’m aware.” Derek replied coldly, approaching Rory from his spot across the room and getting into Rory’s face again. “But you see I wasn’t asking you to think about it. I wasn’t even asking you to come back here and justify your heroics. I asked you to burn the trailer down with everyone inside. And you disobeyed me.” He got closer, the front of his shoes lightly scuffing they top of Rory‘s. “I’m well aware of your daughter. In fact, I knew that you’d never follow through. Had you just admitted that from the get go, this might’ve turned out differently.” He grabbed the front of Rory’s shirt and violently headbutted him, with enough force to make the ghoulies nose spurt with blood as it collided sharply with Derek’s forehead. 

He seized him again and threw him violently to the floor, kicking him in the head, then between the ribs, and then again. “Now, you get to play for your daughter’s life.” Derek crouched down by Rory on the floor and held him upright by the front of his shirt. “I had a friend grab little Grace when this all started. And now you have to earn her back. If you succeed, you’ll get grace back, and you will never return to the Ghoulies again.” He slammed Rory to the floor, then punched him hard across the face. “Fail me, and you will never see her again.” He stood, dragging Rory up with him by his neck. “Bring me Darius Anderson. Do that, and you and your daughter can walk away.”

Rory

Rory wanted to slink away but he stood his ground, almost hoping the little show of strength would earn him some points. He looked down at their shoes and then back at Derek, clenching his hand into a fist at his side. "You want me to fight, I can fight but you--" Then the blow came and Rory's vision went white for a minute. He'd been in enough fights to know that it would fade but the world was upending when he was tossed to the ground, hitting his head on the hard floor. "De--" His hand went up to his nose, capturing blood in the palm of his hand as his eyes started to adjust. All they saw was Derek's food, the momentum of his kick rolling him onto his back before the next kick came, and another. It wasn't the smart decision when he heard Grace's name. 

Rory let out a grunt and threw his arm out to get a quick jab against Derek's jaw. The next punch made him dizzy. Rory had fought plenty of times in his life, usually for money, and he'd fought some real sons of bitches but Derek was different. Worse. More wild. And he groaned in back, spitting blood as he was dragged to his feet, head floating and face pounding with pain. "Where the hell is my daughter?" He spewed, suddenly remembering the calls he'd ignored from Riley. Now he knew why she must have been calling. "You son of a bitch, where is she?" he choked out.

Derek

Derek was acutely aware that Rory had some skill as a fighter, which is why it’d been critical to incapacitate him as quickly as possible. Blows to the head to disorient, to the sides to injure. He wasn’t about the petty little hand to hand sparring, and he needed to make himself very clear. The resonating blow to his face stung, and he knew beyond a doubt his jaw would be sporting a nice bruise for a few days. Rory would have to pay for that one too. With his neck tightly seized in a tight fist, he clenched hard, enough to certainly make catching a shallow breath a challenge. 

“I don’t think you heard me,” Derek practically growled, clenching Rory’s throat tighter. “You’re done asking questions. You’re done as a Ghoulie. The only shred of hope you have at finding your precious daughter is to get me what I asked for. I’ll forgive you for not hearing me clearly the first time since your ears must be ringing.” He wrapped a second hand around Rory’s neck, the pressure of both his thumbs against his trachea with enough force to nearly crush it. 

 “If you’re fortunate enough to regain consciousness after this,” He slammed them both back down onto the floor again, putting all of his body mass on top of Rory as he continued to choke the life out of him. “You’ll bring me Anderson within 24hrs. Do that, and Grace will be returned. And if you don’t...” He finally released Rory, standing upright and this time stomping with the entire force of his leg down onto Rory‘s rib cage. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Rory

Rory knew he could fight. At least, he thought he knew he could fight. But this was different because he'd never once had the intention of killing someone. There was a cold, dark place inside of him that knew that wasn't true of Derek. His hands gripped, trying to release the hold on his throat but growing both increasingly weaker and more frantic the longer he went without a breath. Stars flashed in front of his eyes when he hit the ground, the loud rushing sound of blood in his ears as he fought with the only strength he had left. But it wasn't enough. He should have known, it would never be enough. 

Then suddenly his throat was free and he could gasp in a breath that made the whole world spin on its side, but the stomp to his chest sent a sharp pain that stole the only breath he'd gotten, and like a lamp, everything went dark. His whole body was in pain, worse than any fight he'd been in because at least in those fights he'd been able to fight back. When he had adrenaline bursting through his veins, it was hard to feel the extent of your damage. 

Grace.. he thought. He needed to get up. He needed to find Grace. Derek had her and if anything happened to her..

A low groan came from a busted lip and while he tried to open his eyes, one of them was swollen shut. Dried blood clung to his face and every time he tried to take a breath, a sharp explosion erupted in his chest. He wasn't sure what the fuck happened in his chest but now wasn't the time to figure it out. "Grace," he mumbled, voice cracking from the pressure that had been on his throat. It barely came out a whisper. Get up, he thought. Get Grace. He put his hands on the floor and tried to push himself up but the pain turned him into a shaking ball of blood and broken bones. 

Fighting through the pain, he called his daughter's name again and when he finally got up, he expected to be in the House of the Dead but he wasn't. He was in the back of his shitty pick up out in a field in the middle of nowhere. Rory didn't remember passing out, or being moved, but none of that mattered right now. The man jumped out of the trunk, landed on his feet - and realized what an awful mistake he'd made as the pain shot through his chest. Wrapping his arm around himself, Rory was thankful the keys were still in his jeans pocket. Maybe Derek hadn't realized they were there. Rory doubted the man wouldn't make him go on foot if he'd known.

The last place the man wanted to end up was back in the trailer park but he drove like his life depended on it. No. Like his daughter's life did. Finding the correct trailer, Rory climbed out and had to steady himself on the back end of the truck to cough and spit a mouthful of blood. He made it to the door, slammed an open hand against it constantly until it finally opened. Without shame or hesitation, he said, "I need help."

Darius

It’d gotten to the point that Bruce was no longer coming home, and Dare figured if he’d found a ditch to sleep in, he might as well change the locks and keep him out for good. As much as he wanted to live with Charlie, he had responsibilities to take care of on the Serpent side of things. He needed to be close by and give instruction while Bruce continued to drink himself into oblivion. All the while, fucking Derek Gilbert had functionally declared war after his bullshit stunt that night that left a Serpent family homeless. Dare helped them find a place to stay for the night with a promise he’d give them a hand in the morning. It felt like his head had only just hit his pillow when there was loud pounding on his door. “Go away.” He pleaded under his breath, glancing at his phone. 9:14pm. He groaned and tried to ignore it, but whoever was at the door was hitting it like his life depended on it. 

Dare finally got up, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt and finally headed to the door. It swung open inward and the man in the doorway was nearly unrecognizable. Had he not just recently met him in person, Dare wouldn’t have even known who he was. He sighed. “Listen dude, whatever shit Derek wants to fight about now can wait until tomorrow. You look like shit. Go home.”

Rory

Rory's heart was thrumming and he felt too much; too much pain, too much fear. His mind was a cruel bitch playing images of his daughter, scared and alone, with people she didn't know - people he didn't trust to hurt her. In his head, he imagined her screaming for him to save her and all he wanted to do was go to her. He had no idea where Derek could have taken her, where she was hidden, and he knew going to the cops wouldn't do shit. This was his only option.

Clutching his arm around his ribs, Rory felt thankful that Dare was even there but now what? He didn't expect the Serpent to just walk freely into Ghoulie territory to offer himself up. And Rory knew he was in no position to fight Dare in the hopes that he could knock him out and drag him there. This was his only play. "He has my daughter," Rory hissed. "He wanted me to kill that family where the fire was and I couldn't. I didn't set the fire but he wanted me to. I got them out," he said, hoping it would earn him.. something. "He's punishing me so he.. took her." But Rory didn't come here to tell Dare a sob story so he cut to it. "He wants you. He-- gave me 24 hours but.. He has her."

Darius

There was hardly a thing that Rory was going to be able to say that would make Dare continue this conversation. But the second he mentioned a kid was involved, Dare stopped and the frustration visibly drained from him. Of course Derek would leverage with a kid. He couldn’t be surprised and yet he was. He sighed and stepped out of the doorway, leaving enough space for Rory to come inside and shutting the door firmly behind him. He locked the bolt and gestured for Rory to take a seat on the couch. “I should kill you for what you did to the Hendrickson’s.” He muttered as he went around the house and finally found his cigarettes, lighting one up quickly and taking a long drag as he rubbed his forehead. “When did he grab your kid?”

Rory

Honestly, Rory would have understood if Dare attacked him for what he'd done. If he hadn't spilled the gasoline, it wouldn't have gone up the way it did but he wasn't going to fight semantics. Either way, he'd done it. He didn't refuse Derek. Maybe the fact he'd gone in the house and got them out would earn him some pity points. He walked into Dare's place and was thankful to take a seat, until he actually did. His chest hurt and he slouched to hold pressure. "You can. I don't care. I just need to make sure she's safe," he said, looking up and watching Dare as he moved around. "Some time after the fire. Or probably before knowing him. Riley-" He hesitated and knew he would need to call her. She was probably freaking out but he couldn't think about her right now. Rory rubbed his face. "Look, she's seven.. I-- I don't know.. I didn't know what to do."

Darius

Rarely was he ever in a position of such immense power. Darius was holding all the cards. He could kill Rory, he could demand his unyielding loyalty, he could demand that the ghoulie banish from the town and never return. But...he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that his time with Charlie and the ordeal with Aidan and the kids hadn’t softened him. Made him take a good, hard look at the kind of man he was capable of being. Like Derek. He didn’t want to go down that route. He looked over Rory and his injuries. He’d never convince him to go to the hospital while his daughter was missing. 

Pulling out his phone, Darius sent out a mass text. Kid missing, seven years old, blonde. She’s being held captive someone secure and possibly ghoulie guarded. I want this kid found ASAP. Bring her back to the Wyrm. You have two hours. Confirm back to me once she’s safe. He put his phone back in his pocket and straightened up, taking another drag from his cigarette. “Alright. I’ve got everyone and their mother looking for your kid. We’ll find her. In the meantime, we need to keep Derek distracted. He wants me? You’re gonna bring me to him.” He approached the couch and carefully helped Rory onto his feet. Squaring his shoulders, he put his hands down at his sides. “Hit me.”

Rory

Rory expected Dare to turn him away. He'd never been particularly nice to the guy, even letting his own prejudices rule his emotions when Sammy had wandered off after Derek scared her. He'd stood by Dare at Pop's, eyeing him the whole time, ready to attack if he'd done anything. But he'd been decent about the whole situation, and now he hadn't just turned his back on this beaten and bloodied guy he had no allegiance to be good to. Rory hung his head in relief when Dare said he'd sent out a text. There were so many Serpents, and they were looking for his little girl. He didn't know how to take that. 

He mumbled a thank you and would have probably said it a million more times if it wasn't for Dare's next comment. Rory's head snapped up and it made the pain in his head wash over him. He fought through it, confusion on his face as Dare helped him up. "Wait-- what? You.." His brows pressed together. Was this a trick? "What?"

Darius

Charlie was most definitely going to have his ass when she found out about this, but if Rory wanted his help, Dare had to go on faith that he’d help him get out of the situation too. It’s not like he’d have Rory’s daughter at the ready, and by the time they got there, she’d hopefully be found. They didn’t Derek to know they were looking. And what better way to hold his attention than to bring him what he wanted? 

“If you’re going to bring me to him, he’s can’t find out I went willingly. So you need to make it look like I put up a fight. I’m still pretty banged up inside from...something else. It wouldn’t take you much. And Derek can’t know we’re looking for your kid. So...” He once again straightened his composure. “I want you to hit me. Then you’re gonna tie up my hands, and take me to him. He’s not gonna give you your kid back until then, but we should have her safe before he knows she’s gone. And hopefully...before he kills me.” He gave Rory a pointed look. “I’m hoping you’ll help me get out of there but...if not, I get it. So come on. Hit me.”

Rory

Rory shoved his fist against his side, already knowing that his body was going to hate him for throwing any kind of punches. He'd barely managed to get one off on Derek but.. maybe if Derek though he'd caught Dare off guard? Like he said, he was still healing. Rory knew all about that. He listened to Dare and in that moment, he realized that he picked the wrong gang to join a long time ago. Maybe he didn't know Dare that well, but he wasn't a raging psychopath like Derek. He nodded, realizing that everything Dare said was right. He just couldn't believe the other male was wiling to help him after everything. Rory let his hands fall to the sides, needing to shake out the feeling in them from his rigid position.

"I'll help you," he said suddenly, sure that he could have said nothing. But Dare could have done nothing too, and now he was willing to walk into the flames for Rory's daughter. That meant more than he'd know. "I swear." Maybe Dare believed him, maybe he didn't, but whatever happened, he would do everything he could. He owed him that much. Making a fist a few times, Rory squared up and for the first time, he didn't enjoy throwing a punch. His chest exploded in pain after he made contact, and he smacked his hand on Dare's back. "Sorry.." he offered.

Darius

Though he’d anticipated it to hurt, Dare wasn’t expecting to see stars when Rory’s fist collided with his face. Even injured he packed a wallop, and Dare muttered a stream of profanities under his breath as he waved Rory’s apology off. “Damn. Wish I had you on my team back when. Fuck me that hurt. Okay.” 

He huffed miserably and straightened up, picking up his fallen cigarette to keep smoking as he brought Rory some thin extension cords from another room. He removed his burner from his pocket and handed it over. “You’ll get the text when Grace is safe. Tap me on the shoulder or pinch me or something to let me know. Then we can try and get the hell out of there alive. But for now, we gotta keep up appearances. So don’t go dying on me until we get your kid safe.” He turned around and put his wrists behind his back. “Go ahead and make it tight.”

Rory

Rory shook his hand, the feeling throbbing through his knuckles. He hadn't wanted to hurt Dare, especially after he was helping him find his daughter, but he did have to make this look legitimate. "Can I get one of those?" he asked, eyeing the cigarette for the tenth time. He needed to keep up the facade that he'd done this, attacked Dare, brought him.. but his nerves were still shot. He nodded, shoving the phone into his pocket. He wasn't exactly sure how they were going to make it out of there alive but after all this, he'd do anything as long as his little girl was safe. "I'll do my best," Rory said, grabbing the cords and pulling them around Dare's wrists. 

Although it may have occurred to any other Ghoulie that he could just hand over Dare and be done with it - that would certainly earn major points with Derek - he had no intention of doing that. He wouldn't support the guy that kidnapped his daughter. All Rory ever wanted to do was keep her safe and this wasn't this. Looking at the ties, he considered them and then tightened them more. Appearances. "My truck's out front."

Darius

Dare offered the pack of cigarettes along with his lighter, biting down a remark about Rory being a firefly tonight as he still needed the man’s help getting out of the situation he was willingly putting himself into. He’d of done the same for anyone’s kids, especially Charlie’s, and although he had no reason to believe Rory would help him escape, he had to believe it. If nothing else, he wanted to be certain there was good in people and the folks with kids seemed to be the most apt for it. With his arms secured tight behind his back, Dare nodded. “I’m ready.” 

He let Rory lead the way out and had to get into the truck with the assistance. Sitting back, he tried to stomach down his nerves. He wasn’t sure what was worse, whatever Derek might to do him before they found the kid, or what Charlie was going to do to him when he came back with injuries again. But it didn’t matter. Rory looked to be at about death’s door and Darius needed to focus. “Let’s go.”

Rory

Rory never expected to be driving back like this, Dare coming willingly, the Serpents looking for the daughter of a no good Ghoulie like him. But whatever happened, he had a new respect for the people he'd thought he hated. They drove in silence, Rory smoking down the cigarette, every minute bringing them closer. Until finally, they stopped. Deciding to leave the keys in the truck - easier for a quick escape - Rory climbed out, groaning as he looked out his one good eye. 

Normally he would have planned on picking Dare up, carrying him around like a sack of potatoes but he knew his body wouldn't get him more than two feet if he tried. Hooking his arm through Dare's, Rory tugged the man, trying to make it look like he didn't give a shit about the person he was pulling into the devil's den. "Derek," Rory called out when they made it inside, doing his best to hold on for Dare to struggle. When he saw the shadow move in the corner of the room, Rory did his best to toss Dare onto the ground, grunting in pain as he did, panting through the aching in his chest. "You wanted him, you fucking got him," he hissed.

Derek/Darius

The minute they were ready to go in, Dare smashed down the remainder of his nerves and steeled himself for what was to come. He tried to keep his weight off Rory as he squirmed and twisted against his hold, cursing him out, dragging a foot without actually throwing weight onto it, and he collapsed on the floor of the House of the Dead with an angry shout as he hit his healing sides. “Fuck you, fucking ghoulie scumbag. Fucking attacking me in my own house. You are DEAD! You think you’re gonna be able to even step outside again after this??” He turned his attention to a bemused looking Derek. 

Derek stood up from his seat and set aside his book, approaching Darius hunched on the ground, visibly favoring one of his sides and a massive bruise forming on the side of his head. Derek quirked a brow at Rory. “I’m gonna be honest. This is not exactly what I was expecting. Especially in your...condition.” 

He kicked Dare over onto his side with his shoe and then approached Rory. “I’m impressed. You actually can follow instruction with the right motivation. Your daughter will be returned to you in the morning. Provided...you do one other thing for me.” Derek’s attention turned back to Dare and he dragged him up off the floor, holding him by his neck in the same way he’d held Rory earlier. “I’ve waited so long for this, Anderson. But your old man needs to be here to see this.” 

“Fat chance.” Dare snarled between gasping breaths. “Fuck you.” Inside Rory’s pocket, Darius’ burner buzzed.

Rory

"One other thing?" Rory growled almost like he knew Derek's dog did on his command. "You said I bring him and I get my kid." Except this time he struggled to hide the disdain in his eyes. "He's fucked up. Didn't take much to knock his ass down. Look at him." He threw a look over at Dare and tried to pretend that hated on his face was for him and not Derek. Watching the man walk over to Darius and lift him up, Rory had to fight not to step in. He'd clearly said that he wanted Dare's father to be there so he wouldn't kill him yet. At least that's what Rory was betting on. 

Feeling the buzzing in his pocket, Rory tried to be slick as he pulled the phone out and looked at the message. Got her. Headed to the Wyrm. It took all of Rory's strength to hold it together. He shoved the phone back down and looked around the floor. They needed to get out of here and Rory knew from experience it wouldn't be easy. Finding a broken beer bottle on the ground, he picked up the piece and shoved it in his sleeve. Dare would have an easier time getting away if he wasn't tied up. 

"What other thing do you want?" He asked Derek, hoping to drag his attention away.

Darius/Derek

Derek and Dare glared at each other, Derek moving across the room and throwing Dare to the floor like he weighed nothing. Darius shifted uncomfortably, lifting up his head and feigning a look of defeat. Derek, blinded by his need for revenge so damn close he could practically feel the rage tingling in his fingertips, went to one of the shelves in his room and grabbed a large meat cleaver. Pamela the Shepard looked up from her spot on the floor and whined, but Derek shushed the dog gently. It was a tone he rarely used but his dog was of great importance to him. 

“If the son was no problem for you, should be just as easy for you to get your hands on the drunk too. I’m sure you can find him stumbling around town somewhere.” Derek muttered, eyes appearing wild, unfocused as he started across the room and pressed a foot against Darius’ chest, waving the cleaver in front of his face. “I’ve waited twenty god damn years to get to this point.” He growled in Darius’ face. “Do you have any idea how your father ruined my life?” 

“Get in line, he ruined a lot of people’s lives.” Dare snapped back. “What the fuck does that have to do with—“ A blow landed to his face with enough force to nearly knock him unconscious. Dare dizzingly stilled for the moment as Derek approached Rory again. 

“Tie him to the pole. I’ll be right back.” And Derek exited the room.

Rory

Rory knew what Derek was going for the moment he opened his mouth. He wasn't going anywhere. Right now he didn't give a fuck about Dare's father but they were getting the hell out of here. Now. Gripping the piece of bottle, the glass cutting into his skin, Rory was about to swipe it out at Derek. He only stilled himself when Derek gave an order and then left the room. This was their chance. 

Falling to Dare's side, he pulled the man up to a sitting position, looking back to make sure Derek hadn't come back around the corner yet. "They got her," he said under his breath, using the glass to sheer across the ties at his wrist. At the moment, Rory mostly distrusted everyone and all he was sure of was that Grace wasn't with Derek's people anymore. That's all that mattered. "He'll be back any second." Tugging Dare up to his feet, he pulled him towards the hallway that led to the exit. "Come on. We have to go now."

Darius/Derek

One minute he was seeing stars and the next his wrists were free and he was being hauled up onto his feet. His old man had hit him into unconsciousness before and yet this still was worse. It was like Derek only  punched him at a fifth of what he was actually capable of. Shaking the cobwebs out of his head, Dare focused his eyes and nodded. “Yeah. Yep. Okay. We’re going.” Was a double concussion possible? A super concussion? 

His head felt like it had a million gumballs inside of it and had been violently rattled around. But he moved, knowing Rory would need probably most of his help. Just as they cleared the doorway and entered one of the halls, Derek came flying out of nowhere, slamming Darius up against a wall with enough force to rattle the foundation. 

He turned on Rory, grabbing him at his neck before the man could even put up an arm and gripping on with both hands. “I warned you not to fuck with me,” Derek snarled, crushing the life out of him. “I want to see the life leave your fucking eyes! I want you to know that your little girl is going to be my little servant for the rest of her fucking days! You’ve betrayed me for the last god damn time! SUFFOCATE, FUCKER!”

Rory

If Derek came back before they got out of here, it was going to be bad. Very bad. Rory fought through the pain in his chest as he pushed Dare towards the exit. The whole place could be crawling in seconds so there was no time to waste. They barely made it into a hall when a blur of motion hit the man in front of him like a train. "H--" Just as he tried to yell or throw himself at Derek, the man whirled and was on him. He'd thought the first time he had Derek's hands on his neck was bad but there was no warning for this, no attempt to take a breath, nothing but intense pressure that left him gagging, trying to force air through the neck that was being compressed. 

Rory threw his hands out, trying to push Derek away, hit his face, neck, eyes, anything he could try but panic quickly set in as he felt pin pricks of pain along his face. His vision was quickly blacking out. It wasn't like passing out where it started outlining your vision. This came in thick blocks and all he could hear was Derek threatening his daughter. 

The more he struggled, the quickly he lost energy and soon his knees gave out. But even as he fell, the hands weren't letting him go. He was going to die. It was the first time he ever thought and really believed it. Derek was killing him.

Darius/Derek

Dare was seeing stars again, the force of Derek hitting him against the wall left him dazed. The mass on the man was like being hit with a two ton bolder, all of the force going into his torso and knocking the breath from his lungs. Coughing and wheezing, he could hear the scuffle going on around him and tried his damndest to focus. Up, get UP! 

He finally managed to clear his vision in time to see Rory going down, his motions becoming so much less calculated and more flaccid. It was then he realized what was happening, and pushed up off the ground. 

“That’s it...” Derek crooned as Rory started to give out beneath him, the fire in his eyes dimming into a dull, glazed over appearance. “That’s the last fucking time you’ll ever—FUCK!” 

With that same shard of glass Rory had used to free him, Darius stabbed Derek in the shoulder, causing the ghoulie to release his titan grip on Rory’s neck. He grabbed onto his back and iron-barred his forearm around Derek’s neck, hauling him with all his might back off of Rory and struggling to hold on. 

Derek grunted, panted, threw his back into walls to try and force the Snake to let him go, his brain screaming out a mantra of NO NO NO! as pinpricks of darkness sparked in his eyes. He couldn’t breathe, ironically, collapsing on his knees beside Rory as the Snake continued to press his forearm against his trachea. Derek’s arms flew up, clawing at Darius, and finally collapsing into darkness on the floor. 

Straightening up, panting, and sick to his stomach, Dare released Derek before he accidentally killed him, looking at the door, then down at Rory. He cursed under his breath and grabbed him by his underarms, hauling with all his reserve strength and slinging Rory’s arm around his neck. “What did I say? Don’t go dying on me.”

Rory

Rory always thought he would fight harder when it came to this. In his underground fights, he didn't stop until the bell rang. But there was no bell here, and Derek wasn't going to stop. He felt all the strength leaving his body and the only thing that hurt worse was the sudden and complete inhale of breath he took when the hands were no longer on his neck. 

His lungs expanded and the ache in his ribs took over, blinding him for anything else. He didn't even know what was going on or who was picking him up until he was moving. Not sure how his feet shuffled along the floor, Rory's eyes were focused on the ground. He saw it. Then it was in front of him. He hadn't remembered falling, or the pain from hitting the floor. Or how he got back up. All he knew was he was suddenly in the truck and he collapsed against the side door. 

"Ple-- ge her.." The words were raw in his throat and it still felt like he couldn't breathe, like his heart was pounding like a desperate thing looking for air. He still felt the hands around his throat, squeezing, killing. All he could think. Please get her.

Darius/Derek

Getting the fuck out of the house of the dead without being detected was nothing shy of a miracle, and Rory was absolutely dead weight he owed very little to given the circumstances. But he brought the ghoulie down the road and to his truck, carefully getting him into the front passenger seat and resting his head back. He slammed the door shut and climbed in the drivers, using the keys to get the ignition going and peeling away from the house like a bat out of hell. “She’s fine.” Dare reassured as he fished his burner out of Rory’s pocket and called one of his connections. 

“Vic? It’s D. I’ve got one coming in and I need him treated on the DL, you got me?” He glanced over at Rory and snapped his fingers in his face. “Hey. Focus. We’re almost to the hospital.” They still had a bit to go, but he needed Rory as conscious as possible as he made the call to the serpent that’d found Grace. “Put her on. Yeah.” He passed the burner over and stuck it between Rory’s shoulder and head. “It’s your kid.”

Rory

It didn't cross Rory's mind until they were barreling down the road that Dare had every chance to leave without him. He didn't have to help him get out. He didn't have to help him find Grace. He didn't have to do anything but he did, and that was a debt he knew he'd never be able to pay. If he could have said anything without falling into the unconsciousness that wanted to pull him down, he would have told Dare no hospitals. He couldn't afford that and he didn't need it. He just had to rest. Rest and take aspirin, and see his little girl. But even trying to talk was stealing away any breath he had in him. 

Leaning his forehead on the window, Rory felt himself slipping into a sleep, brought back only when he heard that sweet voice say "Daddy?" Rory pushed himself up, tried to say her name but no sound came out. He tried a second time and his voice broke. "Grace.. Yeah, it's me. You okay?" 

She started going on about her adventure but all he heard was that she was alive. She didn't sound hurt or scared. She was safe. The relief that tore through him gave into the pain and while she spoke, Rory slouched forward and allowed himself to let go.

Darius/Derek

Dare focused on the road and knew that they were running out of time. Rory revived himself long enough to talk to Grace for just a moment before he was slumped forward against the dash. At an intersection he stopped to lean him back and grabbed the phone. 

“Hey...Grace. This is Darius. I’m a friend of your dad’s. My friend is gonna keep an eye on you. She’s very nice. And then I’ll bring you to your dad. Talk soon.” And hung up. 

Within ten minutes he pulled up to the side of the hospital where the ambulances unloaded people, where Victor was waiting with a stretcher. He helped unload Rory onto it and paused. “Isn’t this guy a Ghoulie?” 

“Not anymore.” Dare clarified with a glare. “He’s just a guy now. And you’re gonna treat him like he’s one of us.” 

“D, this—“ 

“Derek almost killed him saving me. So do as I ask. You got the papers?” Victor sighed but nodded, holding up a forged chart. 

“Name’s Fred Petersburg. He’s a 24 year old male from the south side. What the fuck happened to him?” 

“He came to me looking like shit but Derek about strangled him to death. Go.” Without another word, Rory was rushed into the hospital and Dare stood outside, cursing the shitty evening.

[thankyoumskobayashi]

TGCF Snakes On a Plane AU starring Ban Yue as an orphan with a collection of 3,000 snakes which she brings with her on a journey to an orphanage. General Ke Mo is the long-suffering pilot, Pei Ming is that asshole who hits on women, Pei Su is his biologist son who is embarrassed by his very existence. Eventually Pei Su helps Ban Yue in collecting all her precious snakes and putting them back in their containers. 

Xie Lian feels his bad luck caused the snakes to break loose, but San Lang (who gave him his window seat and spent the whole flight flirting with him) insists the problem is the quality of the duct tape instead. Bc there was duct tape used on the boxes.... not the smartest idea but how else is an orphan going to load 3,000 snakes on a plane????

By the end of this experience, Xie Lian's Dad Instincts have been activated, Pei Su is ready to become Ban Yue's older brother, and Ke Mo (who has a secret fear of snakes) just wants to retire so he can leave this plane forever. By the end of it, Hua Cheng has bought several things online that Xie Lian mentioned he had to do without, and even put his info in Xie Lian's phone.

Ling Wen fixed the plane in midair because she used to be a mechanic, and since knowing practical stuff like engines helps her fix the plane she saves them enough to let Ke Mo land the plane. I feel like she wouldn't panic even if snakes are falling on her, so she probably fixed the engine wearing at least 3 snakes as a scarf. Any more snakes and she'd probably put them on the nearest item so she can move around.

Also by the end of it Ling Wen wants to keep her scarf snakes bc she likes having the company. Xie Lian wants to adopt one too, but only a snake that's going to grow up small. Hua Cheng immediately orders luxury snake cages, immediately trying to curry favor with him.

Jun Wu is an old grandpa and he offers to take some of the snakes until Ban Yue finds a home. He's only ever had dogs but he'll be damned if he can't learn.

At the start of the airplane ride, Feng Xin and Mu Qing fought for the window seat in front of Xie Lian, eventually Mu Qing won. Behind them Hua Cheng smiled and pointedly offered Xie Lian his window seat. He slipped his arm around Xie Lian's shoulders and the two bickering before only turned their heads around to glare at this rando for daring to make a move on their friend.

Hua Cheng was some rich kid who was saved from a concussion when a ball from a baseball game went flying towards him at high speeds. Little Xie Lian, who was also sitting nearby and had brought a glove, reached over and caught it. He gave it to Hua Cheng with a sigh, telling him to be careful from then on. Hua Cheng had asked his name, and Xie Lian had unwittingly told him. From then on, Hua Cheng tried to unsuccessfully gain Xie Lian's attention.

They had both gotten into the same college. Hua Cheng despaired in his first year, however, groaning hopelessly among the stacks. Xie Lian, who was scribbling a paper nearby, reached over and handed the last of his snacks to this random depressed person among the bookshelves. He was obviously hungry- his stomach confirmed that- yet he gave away the last of his food with some encouraging words and returned to writing.

He didn't know how many times Hua Cheng stopped by his dorm room, awed, reverent, yet kept away by the glares of Xie Lian's roommates. They knew their friend was gay, and they knew assholes would want to date him, so they did their best to keep him from meeting Hua Cheng.

Even the handwritten note thanking Xie Lian for saving him didn't seem adequate. Hua Cheng tore it up and flopped dramatically on his bed. He'd seen Xie Lian that morning and that was enough to inspire him to keep going.

When college was over, he went back to whatever his parents wanted him to do, but it wasn't enough. He kept checking on what Xie Lian would be doing, until finally he overheard Xie Lian excitedly telling Feng Xin and Mu Qing about the trip they were going to take. So Hua Cheng could only book a ticket on the same plane trip.

Mu Qing had the nerve to snark at Hua Cheng. "Break our best friend's heart, playboy, and we'll break your face."

"Believe me, you'd have to bring me back to life to kill me a fourth time if that ever happened," Hua Cheng just laughed.

"San Lang, you're so funny," Xie Lian murmured. "How would they find your soul the 2nd time, let alone the 4th??"

"I'd die several times over before breaking your heart Gege." Hua Cheng tossed him a red stress ball with silver butterflies on it making a pattern like the stitches on a baseball. Xie Lian caught it, tracing his fingers over that unique pattern.

"Here, keep this. It's my promise to you." He stretched, yawning, curling his hand around Xie Lian's shoulder, making him go red and shift awkwardly in surprise.

Throughout the whole plane ride, Xie Lian's getting hit on by this guy who he assumes is an Airplane Rando, but Hua Cheng is talking to him like they're already close. Maybe he's just a really forward person??

Behind them is this little kid who looks scared and uncertain. She is holding her favorite pet snake and looks terrified.

Xie Lian immediately lends her a dog-eared copy of his favorite book to cheer her up. He gives out crayons, coloring books, pencils- you name it. Ban Yue is having a grand old time, coloring flowers in while she tells Xie Lian about how she's bringing all her snakes with her. By this time the snakes are escaping their boxes, but haven't reached the cabin yet.

Ban Yue loves snakes because they're chill, great listeners, and she has someone to protect. Xie Lian tells her that's wonderful, and if her favorite snake is her only one.

By this point, the snakes have found the cabin's ventilation shaft. They are free from their cardboard prison and spread out to explore this large metal box.

Pilot Ke Mo hits some turbulence. Passenger Ling Wen, who was just flipping through engine forums, slams her laptop shut as she hears something go wrong with the plane. She makes her way to the attendant and whispers a plan as the plane's nose dips unsteadily.

Xie Lian buries his face in his hands. "I knew I shouldn't have gone on this trip! Now our plane is going to crash."

"Gege won't crash, I'll protect you with my body so you'll never hit the floor," Hua Cheng draws him to his chest and murmurs comfortingly.

"Shameless!"

"Too shameless!"

"Don't listen to them, Gege. They are jealous of our love~"

Xie Lian resists the urge to ask how he can fall in love with someone he doesn't even know, when he turns around and sees Ban Yue squinting at the vents.

She holds not just her favorite snake, but two now.

"That's funny, I could have sworn I only brought this one with me. How on earth could the others..."

Screams of anger and shouts of alarm echo throughout the plane. The flight attendant had let mechanic Ling Wen have a look at the airplane, and was then notifying pilot Ke Mo of the situation. Ke Mo agreed to make gentle spirals to slow their descent and give Ling Wen time to fix things. However, he wouldn't have anticipated a snake dropping into his lap so that he'd scream and lurch the whole plane forwards!!!

Screams echo throughout the cabin; other passengers must be feeling similarly.

Xie Lian takes all his luggage out of his bag and gives it to Ban Yue for collecting her snakes in. He then picks up the snake around his neck and drops it in there. Hua Cheng immediately offers to put Xie Lian's stuff in with his own stuff. Xie Lian is grateful.

Xie Lian and Ban Yue go down the aisle collecting snakes and apologizing to the over passengers. Jun Wu is deadpan handing over his snake and asks if he can keep it.

Ban Yue is shocked but shakes her head. These are her snakes, and she knows how to take care of them thank you very much.

They continue in this way until Xie Lian is bitten by a snake. Hua Cheng runs up immediately because he "wants to suck out the venom" but Xie Lian stops him by asking what's the point of Hua Cheng also ingesting it too.

"The point is that if anything happens to you, I won't forgive myself!"

Pei Su who has been calmly reading the newspaper this whole time, clears his throat. "Actually, it doesn't have the proper markings. This snake is not venomous."

Ban Yue's eyes lit up. A fellow snake expert?

Soon Pei Su is explaining to whoever is nearby what kind of snake has just landed on them. He joins the crew going down the aisle stuffing snakes into Xie Lian's bag. Eventually, they run out of bag and Ban Yue thinks to check the duct tape on her packaging... d*mn, did the duct tape get loose again?!? She'd have to check and see. A bad feeling for that mechanic arose within her.

Meanwhile in the cockpit, Ke Mo is hollering mad and shaking with fright. "I have HAD IT up to Here with these MOTHER F*CKING SNAKES on this MOTHER F*CKING PLANE!!!" as more and more of the snakes drop from the vents. He has truly tried to stop the plane from landing right away but his stress is mounting.

Meanwhile Ling Wen is fixing the plane while covered in snakes and completely unfazed abt it. She wipes sweat off her brow and pets the snakes hanging off her arms. A look of concentration crosses her face as she adjusts some more things. "Almost there..."

THANKS FOR READING SO FAR BUT IM REALLY FUCKING TIRED. I GOT OUT ALL MY IMPORTANT PLANNING THOUGHTS SO I MIGHT ORGANIZE THIS INTO A PROPER FIC IN THE FUTURE. STAY TUNED

[kafeuka]

playing cupid

▄ title: playing cupid ▄ written by: fasha ▄ wordcount: 17k ▄ summary: jungkook, the new assistant teacher, has a humongous crush on one of the children's dad. with the help of the Brattiest Brat in the kindergarten, jungkook might finally have the love storyline he deserved in life.

(aka jimin's kid plays matchmaker in an exchange for banana milk)

To whoever thought being a teacher in a kindergarten is an easy job, Jungkook would love to confront you with twenty pages of an essay, listing out the reason why you are very wrong and perhaps slap you to another universe where the statement was deemed acceptable.

While he would have loved to stay home and spend the rest of his day reading comic books or finishing a season of the latest anime he discovered, his mother had a different idea that involved him being in a kindergarten for six hours on school days.

‘How hard could it be?’ he initially thought.

After two days of working, he found an answer: it was, indeed, difficult.

Fortunately for Jungkook, his mother applied him as an assistant teacher – which meant his job would only be temporary. He would have quitted the moment he stepped a foot inside the Satan’s Playground, but the pay was good and he got free chocolate milks at the end of the day. Jungkook will never ever say no to free chocolate milks.

Including Jungkook, there were only three assistant teachers and the both of them were probably around his age. Being sociable was not his forte, but having children around made it easier to communicate with people.

Sooyoung and Hansol started working in January, making Jungkook the newbie. Jungkook was certain that those two have seen and experienced a lot of horrifying things to the extent that they developed some sort of special skill to avoid doing the tedious jobs. For example: changing the kids’ diapers.

Whenever they managed to sniff some smell that did not belong there, Sooyoung and Hansol would make themselves busy; leaving Jungkook to clean up some other kid’s shit. Never in his life he ever changed a kid’s diaper before, or had he ever washed someone else’s butt and there he was, internally screaming and outwardly crying during his first time doing said job.

So far, that was the worst thing Jungkook had done in the kindergarten.

But boy, could he get any more wrong.

Jungkook thought himself as someone who was fond of children although, he was pretty sure he would have chosen animals than kids any day but some kids really loved to get on his nerves. The kids loved him too, that was how he saw it anyway, but if he were to say a few things, it would be that he was not fond of Park Jooyeon.

Jungkook could swear, with God almighty and the teachers in the kindergarten as his witnesses, that Park Jooyeon was probably the Satan reincarnate herself. Judging from how expensive-looking her bag was, it was no mistake that she was a hundred percent a spoiled brat. And honestly, dealing with a spoiled brat was probably one of the worst things Jungkook had to experience in his nineteen years of life.

They were not allowed to use the word brat with the kids around, because as Sooyoung said, “That word is forbidden here,” but outside of the school, Jungkook was free to cuss at Park Jooyeon behind her back.

(That was really mature of Jeon Jungkook to do that. To a child. Yeah.)

In Jungkook’s honest opinion, he would have loved to get the kid kick out of the kindergarten. Some kids can be troublesome, but he had never seen such obnoxious, exasperating kid before.

And the fact that this Satan in the form of cute girl in a blue dress can speak fluently in words and well-strung sentences only made him want to choke himself to death.

Thankfully, Jooyeon was in the third kindergarten, which meant Sooyoung was the one that handle the class whereas Jungkook was in charge of the second kindergarten. Out of the three of them, only Sooyoung was patient enough not to hit the little monster. He could literally see the vein on Hansol’s forehead throbbing rather erratically when the curly haired bloke had to deal with Jooyeon.

However, on Jungkook’s third day of working, Sooyoung called in sick. Without the female warrior, the kindergarten gotten more chaotic as Jooyeon began acting up. She stole her friends’ food, broke the crayons and made three kids cry – and all of these happen in just the span of one hour.

The eldest teacher, Miyoung, suggested placing Jooyeon in an unused classroom and having one assistant teacher supervising her behaviour. Jungkook thought the idea was brilliant; at least they will have the peace they needed without the brat around.

“So, Jungkook, you can rest a bit today and leave the photocopying work to Hansol. You’ll be looking after Jooyeon.”

“Wait, what?”

    He would rather be given a lot of work (excluding changing diapers) than babysitting Park Jooyeon.

Jooyeon was sitting across of him at the orange-coloured table, just staring at Jungkook as if she was ready to challenge him to a fight.

‘She probably is,’ he thought bitterly with a frown.

Unexpectedly, she was somehow tolerable and less demonic when she was alone. Jungkook would not fathom how such kid can bring misery to the kindergarten. There was no doubt that she was probably the villain in some myth in her past life. The girl screamed trouble. The first time they met, he was fooled by her almond eyes and adorable voice. Thirty minutes after that, Jungkook had to calm down a kid she ‘accidentally’ hit with a lego.

‘One of these days, someone needs to meet her parents and tell them how wrong they’ve raised this girl.’

“Jooyeon, do you want to colour using crayons or colour pencils?” Jungkook tried in the sweetest voice he could muster as he stood up to grab a colouring book from the small shelf.

“Don’t wanna.”

“Listen, you insolent little bitch, I am going to be stuck with you for the next two hours and you have no choice to listen to me because I am the elder here and I have the power to order you around. If I were to be given a choice, I would rather headbutt myself to this brick wall and die from internal bleeding rather than being in the same room as you but Choi fucking Hansol, that sneaky son of a bitch, beat me into pretending he was busy and now here I am. Now, I’m going to ask you again, do you want to fucking use the crayons or colour pencils?” Jungkook demanded with gritted teeth.

Jungkook took a deep breath at the scene and the choice of words he used to scold Jooyeon inside his head and decided to push the thought far, far away as possible. Another deep breath later, he turned around to Jooyeon with a smile that he hoped looked genuine and beamed, “The colour pencils, it is!”

Unlike the behaviour she showed outside of the classroom, Jooyeon was far quieter and for once, actually listened to Jungkook.

Jungkook only watched as she looked as if she was having a conflict in deciding the shade for the flower she was going to colour next, and when she realised she was being observed, she looked up to Jungkook almost shyly.

He could not help but to bit his lower lip to prevent himself from giggling at the adorable reaction and scooted his chair closer to her. He pointed at the uncoloured sun on the book and asked, “Jooyeon, what is this?”

“The sun.”

“The sun? All right, then what is this?”

“Clouds.”

Jungkook nodded in satisfaction at her replies, and continued to watch as she slowly coloured the page. Jungkook had seen a few of her works when he was collecting papers and he had to admit that for a five year-old, she had her work done brilliantly than the others. Jooyeon might undeniably be a brat, but she was a smart kid. Jungkook overheard the teachers praising her during their meetings and when he first heard of this, he only scoffed in disbelief.

The two spent their time in silent, often Jungkook would try to make small conversations and she would always reply in short sentences, eyes never daring to look up to Jungkook. Not that Jungkook minded, anyways. As long as she did not make him cry, he was fine with it.

   “How was she?” Hansol chuckled.

‘Bastard.’ “Alright, I suppose. Did some colouring and they turn out nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Uhuh. What about you? Have you finished with the worksheets? Mr. Hyungwon asked me to scan the Shapes, Colours and Patterns workbook. Did you do that too?” Jungkook asked before bending down to pick up Yeri who came up to him and hugged his leg.

Yeri let out a giggle, wrapping her small arms around Jungkook’s neck. Hansol grinned at the kid, bopping her nose with his finger and replied, “I did.”

“Teacher Kook, Teacher Kook!”

“Yes?” Jungkook asked with a voice that was two octaves higher than usual, as he turned his attention to the kids who were tugging on his jeans.

“Jooyeon took my milk again!” Chan complained with a pout.

“Yeah! Yeah!” Somi nodded vigorously from behind Chan, hands tugging self-consciously at her braids. “And she said my braids are ugly too!”

Hansol only chuckled while Jungkook sighed, handing Yeri to him before he bent down to their level. “Your braids are not ugly, Somi. Don’t let her words get to you.”

“You think so?” Somi asked, eyes shining with hope.

Jungkook grinned so wide, it almost reached his ears. Children like Somi made his heart swell with adoration at their cuteness. “Yes, I do,” Jungkook assured her as he lightly pinched her cheeks, receiving a cute giggle in return.

“I’ll talk to Jooyeon and made sure she won’t get any milk, yeah? I’ll tell Teacher Miyoung not to give her any candy anymore, is that okay?”

“Okay!” Chan chirped with a nod.

“Now, go on and play. Remember not to push your friends, all right?”

   Six hours.

He was supposed to be in the kindergarten for six hours only – that was what his mother promised him at first.

But it had been six hours and a half, yet he was still hanging around in the lobby, sighing once in a while to look up to Jooyeon who was still sitting down in one of the brightly painted chairs. Not once did she take off her backpack, she chose to sit with it although it looked uncomfortable to Jungkook. Jungkook would have asked her to take it off, but after the stunt she pulled earlier (making two kids cry simultaneously), Jungkook did not have any energy left to speak to her.

Today was Jungkook’s duty to look after the kids when classes were over, and on this very eventful day, Jungkook was sure with every fibre of his being that Choi Hansol was an asshole. Jungkook cursed Hansol under his breath when Hansol gave him a wink before leaving the school. How dare that moron – he did not even offer to help!

All the kids were picked up by their guardians except for Jooyeon.

Even after school if over, this brat managed to make Jungkook suffer.

While he expected Jooyeon to create some havoc with her tiny yet disastrous hands, Jooyeon was sat silently on the chair and her dreamlike eyes were glued to the glass door, waiting for her guardian to pick her up. Jungkook was a bit humoured at this and decided that as long as Jooyeon was not going to turn the area upside down, he was fine with it.

After what seemed like forever, Jungkook decided to be a good teacher for once and for all, and approached the girl.

“Hey.”

He stood on his knees, glancing at the glass door before placing a hand on Jooyeon’s shoulder. “Seems like your mommy’s running a little late today, isn’t she?”

Jooyeon shrugged, eyes still glued to the glass door. Jungkook breathed out loudly through his nose.

“Wanna take your bag off for a sec? You’ll hurt your back like this.”

“No.”

“Jooyeon, are you bored? Wanna watch a cartoon with Teacher Kook?” Jungkook asked in the best honeyed voice he could muster. “We could kill some time.”

She turned towards Jungkook and blinked. “Killing is bad.”

Jungkook let out a soft chuckle and fixed his choice of words as he said, “We could watch cartoon while waiting for mommy. Is that okay?”

She hummed, playing hard to get with Jungkook as she fiddled her tiny fingers, making Jungkook wait for a response. Jungkook tilted his head, pouting while batting his eyelashes, hoping that his puppy face would work. Jooyeon broke into a grin when Jungkook did his pleading eyes and she nodded as a response. “Okay!”

   Fifteen minutes through Tom & Jerry’s Giant Adventure, they were interrupted by a loud cough. Jungkook had Jooyeon comfortable on his lap, his chin resting slightly on top of her head when he heard the cough. Groaning at the intrusion, he turned to the source only to find a young man with tangerine hair leaning against the wall with one hand in his pocket.

“Oh my god,” Jungkook whispered under his breath because that man looked like someone the ancient people sing about – breathtakingly gorgeous with the ability to break mortals’ hearts. Except that he would break hearts with the kind smile on his face and crescent eyes.

Jungkook did not realise he was staring (or drooling, to be accurate) at the man until he was missing the weight on his lap as Jooyeon leapt to the ground and ran towards the man. Tangerine’s grin widened when Jooyeon ran towards him, her voice high with happiness as she squealed, the bag behind her was bouncing with every step she took.

Tangerine lifted Jooyeon easily, letting out a giggle that Jooyeon’s cuteness coaxed out of him and Jungkook wanted to swear that it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever the pleasure of listening to (besides that cooking ASMR videos on youtube) but in this kindergarten, they were not allowed to swear.

With one hand hooked underneath Jooyeon’s bottom to support her and Jooyeon’s arms wrapped around his neck, he turned to Jungkook to give an apologetic smile when they were done having their father-daughter reunion moment. “Sorry for being late.”

“It’s—” his voice cracked and he hoped that his expression was calm enough to make it not obvious that he was screaming in embarrassment internally. He cleared his throat before repeating, “It’s fine.”

The thing was: it was not fine.

This man just took nearly an hour of his life.

“No, it’s not,” Tangerine shook his head.

Jungkook wanted to snap, “Damn right and yet you’re still late.” But while Jungkook did not have the ability to talk normally to a handsome man, he was blessed with the ability to hold himself back.

“I am truly sorry for what happened, there was a thing in the office. Two workers got into a fight and I had to get involved to break them apart,” Tangerine continued, as if Jungkook was begging for him to tell the story of his life.

“Oh no, it’s fine,” Jungkook let out a humourless chuckle.

“I believe she’s well behaved, yes?” Tangerine questioned, eyes narrowing sceptically in a rather playful way at the girl he was holding.

Jungkook begged to differ, all the things he wanted to say was all ready at the tip of his tongue but they all evaporated into thin air when Jooyeon answered the question by nodding vehemently which caused Tangerine to let out a soft giggle.

“I certainly hope that was true,” Tangerine chuckled at Jungkook and Jungkook only smiled back. “Anyways, sorry again. I’m glad she’s in the hands of someone responsible. Thank you for taking care of her, Teacher.”

“Oh, no. I’m just the Assistant Teacher,” he corrected. He felt his cheeks warming up when he was called a teacher, embarrassed and feeling good at the same time. “And it’s my duty to take care of the students.”

“Well then. We better take our leave now. Good bye, Assistant Teacher,” Tangerine grinned before he walked away with a child in his arms.

Jungkook watched as they left, Jooyeon peeking from Tangerine’s shoulder to look at Jungkook. Instinctively, he raised his hand and waved at her, to which she waved back. He smiled at the innocent gesture.

And boy, he tried really really hard not to smile when Tangerine waved at him before getting into the car.

  ♡♡♡

  Jungkook learnt that Tangerine’s real name was Jimin and unfortunately, Jooyeon referred to him as daddy.

(Jungkook would call him daddy too and all Jimin had to do was ask.)

It was the second session of Jungkook babysitting Jooyeon after she made Chan cry by calling his hairstyle ugly when he found out his name. What made Chan cried even more was the fact that every kid agreed. In all honesty, Jungkook also agreed. His mother should have went to the barber instead of cutting his hair by herself.

Of course, Teacher Miyoung decided that she had enough of children crying that day and what better solution than having the stem of the problem locked away from the children?

Sighing, Jungkook leaned back against the small wooden chair, scrutinizing Jooyeon. She had her attention on the paper, colouring them carefully and making sure she did not cross over the black lines.

“Hey, Jooyeon,” Jungkook called out.

“Hm?” she responded, eyes never leaving the paper.

“Is that the first-time mommy didn’t pick you up? Has she always been busy?” Jungkook questioned, careful not to jump so quickly to Tangerine because no, Jungkook was totally not thinking of him.

Jooyeon nodded before sitting up straight to pick another colour for Mickey Mouse’s shirt.

“What about—” Stop right there, Jeon. Don’t ask don’t ask don’t ask. “— your daddy?”

“Daddy doesn’t live with mommy anymore,” she murmured.

Oh, fuck.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Jungkook apologized sincerely. Although, there was a voice inside his head chanting: YES!! YES HE’S SINGLE.

She grabbed an orange pencil from the container and Jungkook’s lips quirked into a smile, reminded of the bright orange mop of hair that belonged to a certain man that was residing temporarily in his mind.

“Orange! It’s the colour of your daddy’s hair,” Jungkook quipped.

At the mention of her dad, she grinned and for once, looked up from her paper. “Jimin’s hair!”

“Jimin? Is that his name?”

“Jimin, Jimin, Jimin, Jiminie, Jiminie,” she sang, eyes now sparkling and lips smiling so wide.

“Jimin,” Jungkook repeated, more like whispering to himself, testing the new name on his tongue.

   “Quick question, are Jooyeon’s parents young?” Jungkook blurted out when he and Sooyoung were alone at the pantry.

Sooyoung looked up from the refrigerator to Jungkook a confused look – one eyebrow raised, lips pursed and head tilted. Hansol was outside, helping the children with their lunch boxes while they were taking out the chocolate milks for the kids. Hansol would only laugh his ass off if Jungkook asked him instead of Sooyoung. That bastard will know if something was up.

“I think so,” Sooyoung answered. “I mean, her mother looks pretty young. Probably only a few years older than me. Never seen her father.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“How young is her mother?”

Sooyoung took out four packets of chocolate milks at once, placing them carefully on top of the sunflower-clothed table with a huff. “Dunno,” she murmured, finger moving to count the amount of milk inside her head.

Jungkook twisted his lips to the side, unsatisfied with her lack of answers and tempted to ask Sooyoung with more questions but decided that he was against it. “I saw her father yesterday,” he informed, leaning closer to Sooyoung as if he was telling a secret.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Pretty young too.”

“Grab me another packet, will you?” Jungkook did as he was told as Sooyoung continued, “Not surprising. Rumour has it that they had her when they were in high school.”

“Oh. That explains then.”

“Well, enough chit-chat. Let’s get these to the kids.”

   Just as he would have guessed, Jooyeon was the only kid left. Jungkook waved a hand to Seungjae, who was the second-to-last kid that was picked up by his father. He watched as the car drove away before turning towards Jooyeon with a sigh.

“I guess it’s you and me again, huh,” Jungkook muttered.

Jooyeon jutted her lower lip, as if she was feeling guilty. Jungkook scratched the back of his neck as he approached her and when he was near, he reached out a hand for her to hold. “Wanna continue the movie from where we left off?”

He took her huge grin as a yes.

 When Jimin arrived at school, he did not pretend to cough loudly. This time he pulled up a chair quietly and sat beside Jungkook, who had Jooyeon sitting on his left thigh.

“Hello,” Jimin whispered, startling both Jungkook and Jooyeon who were too absorbed in the animation.

“Jiminie!” Jooyeon squealed in happiness.

“Hello baby,” Jimin cooed, leaning down to pinch her cheek lightly.

Jungkook attempted to tamper down the smile that threatened to take over his face by biting down his lower lip and failed miserably as his heart swell and beat erratically against his chest at the heart-warming bond the two shared.

“Well, now that daddy’s here,” Jungkook huffed, missing the way Jimin’s eyes flicker in suspicion and confusion as he hefted Jooyeon with ease to make her stand on the ground. “You should go home now.”

“Sorry for being late again,” Jimin apologized with sincerity dripping from his voice, accepting the hug Jooyeon was giving him with open arms. He lifted her, hooked one arm underneath her legs as he stood up. “My workplace is far from here and her mother’s busy lately.”

“No problem.” Jungkook stood up, dusting his jeans. “It’s my pleasure to be her company. At least I’ve got to watch shows my mom forbid me of watching at home,” he jested with a chuckle, only to regret it afterwards as he realised what a big dork he sounded like.

Jimin beamed, shaking his head in amusement. “I assumed you are Teacher Kook…?”

“Yes, that is me,” Jungkook answered. “The adults call me Jungkook.”

Stop embarrassing yourself, fool.

He swore Jimin’s grin reached his ears because of his silliness, causing a faint pinkness dusting Jungkook’s cheeks.

Jooyeon was looking at Jungkook as he spoke, bright eyes analysing every move he made, little fists curled tightly on Jimin’s shirt. He was not sure if he was reading too much into it, but the little devil seemed to be forming a plan to annihilate Jungkook and dominate the world.

“Well, Jungkook, I am Jimin and my baby here,” – Jimin gestured by resting his head against the top of Jooyeon’s – “Can’t stop talking about the movie you two were watching yesterday. She absolutely loved it and she loves you too.”

Jooyeon and love in a sentence seemed like a fantasy to Jungkook unless it went something like ‘Jooyeon loved to make kids cry’. Jungkook nearly choked at Jimin’s words, baffled at how Jimin came to such ridiculous conclusion. If there was anything Jooyeon did to Jungkook was close to love, it would be she loved making his life miserable.

He masked his bewilderment with a polite smile and shook his head. “Oh no, you must be mistaken—”

Before he could finish his sentence, the girl interrupted with a shy, “Jooyeon loves Teacher Kook!”

Jungkook eyes widened a smidgen at the sudden outburst, wondering where the hell did that came from and he figured that Jimin must be the OFF-switch button for her demonic behaviours.

“See?” Jimin giggled, placing a kiss on top of her head.

“Well…” Jungkook cleared his throat, embarrassed and pleased at the same time. “That’s lovely.”

Jimin beamed again before he said, “We better go now. Thank you, Jungkook. Baby, say thank you to Teacher Kook.”

“Thank you, Teacher Kook.”

Jungkook smiled as he patted her head.

“All right. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Jungkook did not dare to reply, afraid that his voice might betray him or he might have started screaming in euphoria.

With a slight bow and a smile to die for, Jimin and his baby left the kindergarten with light steps, giggling and talking cutely to each other in their own bubble. When the noise of the engine starting could be heard and he was sure that they have really left, Jungkook squealed before twirling like Barbie in Swan Lake, giddy that he was given the chance to interact with Jimin.

��I’ll see you around’ he said. He said that to me! Does that mean he wants to see me around sometime?

However, his internal monologue was interrupted when Hansol came from the bathroom, pants rolled up to his knees and the hem of his shirt soaked. Hansol let out the most dramatic gasp of the century. “What the fuck?”

“Hey, language!”

  ♡♡♡

  Although cycling to school had its advantage, Jungkook refused to be seen riding his dumb bicycle to school.

Jungkook was a living proof that being the youngest child in the family suck, seeing that most of the stuff he had was hand-me-downs from his older brother. Unfortunately for Jungkook, the bicycle he now owned used to be his mother’s and his mother was not exactly the rock and roll type. In fact, she was a floral lady, a lover of pastel colours.

Savitar – which was the name of his bicycle – was originally pink with sunflower patterns all over it. His friends would have killed him if he was seen riding that and with the help of his allowance money, he managed to buy black spray paints and transformed Savitar to the badass bicycle it was now.

The only thing he did not dare change was the huge basket attached to Savitar. His mother was upset when she knew the changes he made to her old bicycle, and the last thing he wanted was for his mother to yell at him again. So, he decided to let it be. The basket proven to be of help to Jungkook anyways.

Which is why, he thought it was just his rotten luck, that he had to stumble upon Jimin while riding Savitar.

Sure, he had dreamt of seeing Jimin outside of school but not when he had Savitar’s basket filled with a plastic bag full of snacks.

It was on Sunday afternoon when it happened. He was cycling back home from the grocery store, after he had spent nearly five hours at Taehyung’s house. He would have biked past through Jimin, if only Jimin had a normal hair colour on him. It was pretty hard to miss his orange hair, to be honest.

Jungkook halted before he slowly turned back to the car that was parked near the sidewalk. Jimin had his head tilted when he looked at Jungkook, he was sat on the hood of his car, his knees close to his chest and when he recognized Jungkook, he gave him a grin. “Hey.”

He tried not to blush. Jungkook had a problem controlling his face and heart when it comes to attractive men. “Hello,” he mumbled, bowing slightly to hide his reddening face. “What are you doing here?”

Jimin heaved a sigh, scratching the back of his neck as he motioned towards the car. “It was the battery.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook contemplated whether he should continue the conversation or bid Jimin farewell. If he was selfish, he would have gone with the latter. However, if he chose the former, he would start to spout some mumbo jumbo that will make him sound like a loser and he might have make it obvious that he had the hots for the orange-haired man.

In the end, he got off of Savitar and manoeuvre it with the handles to approach Jimin. “I don’t know how car works exactly. How long until it’s fully charged?”

“Until what?”

“How long until the battery’s fully charged?”

Jimin let out a guffaw, eyes curving into crescents and his entire body shook. Jungkook blinked, wondering if he had said something wrong to make Jimin laugh. Maybe a bird pooped on Jungkook and he did not realise it. Worried, he patted his head to find that it was clean. Unwashed for two days, but still clean of bird poop.

Eventually, the laughter turned into small chortles as Jimin wiped the tears that were forming in the corner of his eyes with his fingers. “Oh, Teacher Kook, the battery won’t charge itself.”

“W-What?” A humiliated blush climbed up his neck, his face was getting warmer by the seconds. Trying to save his face, he stuttered, “I k-knew that!”

“Sure,” Jimin giggled again, his face showing the opposite of belief. “I’m waiting for the tow truck to pick me up.”

“Oh…” Jungkook murmured, looking away from Jimin.

“Do you live around here?” Jimin asked, getting off of the hood as he dusted his pants.

“Yeah,” he answered. “It’s a fifteen-minute walk. Ten, with a bicycle.”

“That’s cool.”

Jungkook looked back at the car, it finally dawned on him that something – or rather, somebody – was missing in this picture. “Where’s Jooyeon? She’s not with you today?”

“She’s with her mother.”

“Oh, I see.”

The ensuing silence that came after was palpable. Jungkook glanced to his left to find the old lady from the grocery store jogging on the other side of the road, one bottled water in hand.

“Teacher Kook?” He heard Jimin called him out, which was a surprise. He thought both of them would have drowned in the silence.

“Yes?”

“How old are you?” Jimin inquired, folding his arms together as he turned to the direction Jungkook was staring at. The old lady was still at it, she was slow but she was moving consistently.

Jungkook fought the urge to raise his eyebrow at the man. He did not want to come off as rude. “I’m nineteen.”

“Really?” Jimin nearly gasped, one hand on his chest. Dramatic. “You’re only two years younger than me?”

Jungkook did a quick math in his head. Nineteen plus two… which meant Jimin was only twenty-one years old. Which also meant that Jimin had Jooyeon when he was sixteen. Oh god.

“I suppose,” Jungkook shrugged, appearing nonchalant although he was freaking out on the inside.

Jimin smiled again, the smile that made his eyes disappeared and cheeks irresistible to pinch. There was a resemblance to Jooyeon the longer Jungkook observed, and to say that Jungkook did not feel a pang in his chest would be a lie.

‘It’s just a dumb crush,’ he reminded himself.

“Jooyeon’s absolutely in love with you. It’s quite a surprise, really. She’s not fond with just anyone.”

Jungkook rolled his lips in before he smacked them, unsure what to do with that fact. It was the perfect time for Jungkook to spill the truth about what a little bitch Jimin’s daughter was, but just as Jungkook opened his lips to speak, a yellow tow truck came into his line of sight.

The loud noise coming from the vehicle made Jimin turned towards it before he heaved a sigh of relief. “About damn time.” He heard Jimin muttered under his breath.

“Great, your ride’s here,” Jungkook mumbled. When Jimin faced him, he concealed his disappointment with a grin. “I gotta go now. My mom’s gonna be worried sick if I’m not home before dinner.”

“Thank you for accompanying me, Jungkook. I’ll see you at school?” Jimin beamed.

He was not sure if it was his mind that was playing tricks with him, or it was his wishful thinking that Jimin sounded hopeful when he spoke.

Jungkook had to get on his bicycle when he replied, afraid that he would be caught grinning at the thought. “Yeah, see ya!”

  ♡♡♡

  “Teacher Kook? Teacher Kook?”

Jungkook was not aware of the little girl calling him out, wanting to grab his attention. He let out a sigh, still pondering over the words Jimin said to him a day ago. Did that mean Jimin wanted to see him? Or was it Jungkook who wanted Jimin to want to see him?

“Jungkook!”

Startled by the shout coming from across of him, he turned towards the direction of the voice to find Jooyeon pouting angrily at him. Her arms stretched towards him, one hand holding a yellow colour pencil tightly.

“Hey, what did you just call me?” Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, displeased that the child was being disrespectful towards him. “I am older than you. Where are your manners, Park Jooyeon?”

Jooyeon grinned, her rosy cheeks were as squishy as her dad’s.

“Jiminie calls you Jungkook so I can call you Jungkook too!”

Jungkook nearly choked on air. “He — what?”

Jooyeon turned away, looking as sly as she always was.

Not once Jungkook dreamt in his life that he was begging at some devil trapped in a child’s body for some answers. He glared at Jooyeon, hoping that it would intimidate her but he knew that nothing could scare Jooyeon.

“Do you want to know, Teacher Kook?”

“Yes—” You fucking pain in the arse, “Jooyeon.”

Jooyeon dropped her colour pencil to the table, hands on both cheeks. Jungkook was certain that she was swinging her legs under the table by now.

“Jiminie,” she began, voice lilting and sweet. One thing Jungkook noticed about Jooyeon was how she always spoke of Jimin with pure admiration and love. Her eyes seemed to sparkle and frankly, she looked like an angel when she did so. She let out a giggle, eyes closing and it reminded Jungkook of how Jimin’s eyes turned to crescents when he laughed. “Jiminie likes Jungkook.”

He tried to suffocate a flush that was trying to creep on his cheekbones and snorted. “Liar. Liar liar pants on fire.”

She let out a giggle again. “I’m wearing skirt! And I’m not lying. Jooyeonie promise.”

He squinted his eyes towards her in disbelief while she stared back at him with her huge eyes.

With one hand still on her cheek, now her head tilting slightly to the left, she held out her hand to Jungkook. All of his fingers were closed except for the smallest finger. “Pinky promise!” she said, to assure Jungkook that she was telling the truth.

Reluctantly, Jungkook wrapped his pinky around hers.

She gave him a grin before letting her pinky go. A part of him hoped that Jooyeon was lying, it was never good to get his hopes up in the first place. However, the bigger part of him wished that it was true.

“What did he say? What did he say about me?”

“Will Jooyeonie get banana milk if Jooyeonie tell?”

Jungkook stared at her incredulously. How dare this child barter with him, after all the torment he had to go through because of her? Jungkook would have gone to the kitchen to get Jooyeon the flavoured milk she wanted if only it was available there. She knew it was only Jungkook who brought the banana milk to school as his lunch. She knew damned well Jungkook was the only one who had a banana milk on him.

“Fucking evil genius.” Jungkook gritted his teeth, hoping that the words he uttered did not make sense to her. Concealing his annoyance, he feigned a smile, “You do know that we only have chocolate milk, don’t you?”

She nodded. “But Jungkook does. I see you drink banana milk every day in the kitchen!”

He squinted his eyes towards her, hands grabbing the sides of the wooden chair he was sitting on, hoping they will stay there and not do anything irrational like flinging the colour pencil from her hand and scare her to death. She blinked, eyes sparkling with mischievous and Jungkook let out an irritated sigh, giving in. “Fine.”

She giggled in triumph. “Yes!”

“Now, tell me. We had a deal.”

She hummed, small finger tapping her chin as she pretended she was in a deep thought. “Well~” she sing-songed, lips pouty like Jimin’s. “Jiminie would like to take you on a date!”

“He did?”

“Jiminie said Jungkook’s cute!”

He tried not to grin although he was sure that the red spots flaring on his cheeks was betraying him. “R-really?”

“Uhuh!” she answered, nodding her head vigorously. “Does Jungkookie likes Jiminie too?”

Jungkook jutted out his lower lip, shrugging. “Jiminie’s cute too, I guess.”

Maybe it was because she was a child that he felt the need to speak Jimin’s name cutely like she did. It bugged him a little that it was easy for Jooyeon to drop honorifics, even towards the man who gave her life, but he was too high on the new information he received to care. It was not everyday a cute guy likes him back.

“Do you wanna go out with Jiminie?”

Jungkook shrugged again. “I dunno… seems inappropriate, don’t you think?”

She tilted her head innocently, brown eyes staring at Jungkook with wonder dancing in them. “What’s ina… inappro…”

“You’ll learn later when you grow up. Now come on, let’s finish colouring Rapunzel. I’ll help you this time.”

   Jungkook was not sure what Jooyeon’s intention was, but his theory of her being a malevolent witch in her past life was proven to be true when she dragged Jungkook for a ‘small’ date with Jimin.

Jimin had arrived at school earlier than usual, although Jooyeon was still the last one to be picked up and the girl had the audacity to ask Jimin for ice-cream, which he gladly obliged and on top of being a whiny brat, she begged Jimin to bring Jungkook with them. Jungkook wanted to dig a hole in the middle of the school, crawl in it and never going up forever.

To his surprise, Jimin was not as flustered as he was and if Jungkook was honest, he would say Jimin seemed to love the idea – it was written on his face, clear as day.

“What do you say?” Jimin asked, carrying his kid effortlessly with one arm while the other was holding onto her purple backpack. “Don’t wanna disappoint Jooyeonie here, don’t you?”

Despite thinking of how weird it was, Jungkook was not able to say no. Especially not when there were two pairs of puppy eyes staring at him.

With a sigh, he gave in. “Fine…”

Thankfully, Sooyoung was staying back to clean the classrooms and Jungkook had to inform her that he had to go. Sooyoung gave him a suspicious look but chose not to question him and let him go anyway. He had called his mom, telling her not to pick him up as he would go home a little later.

By the time Jungkook stepped a foot outside of the school, Jimin and Jooyeon were already in the car. The tangerine-haired man had his eyes glued to the door the whole time and it was only when Jungkook exited the school that his eyes lit up and a soft smile painted his feature.

Jungkook tried not to blush at the thought, and when he entered the car through the back door, he murmured an apology. “Sorry for the intrusion…”

“Alrighty, are we all set?”

“I am! I am!!” Jooyeon squealed from the seat next to the driver’s.

“And you, Jungkook?” Jimin asked, glancing at the rear-view mirror to look at Jungkook.

Jungkook pressed his lips into a thin smile before nodding.

“Okay, let’s go.”

Then, he shifted to the first gear.

   Initially, Jungkook thought they would go to the nearest park and get some cheap ice-creams from the ice-cream truck but unfortunately, they went to the nearest shopping complex and bought expensive ice-creams in one of the renowned ice-cream parlours. Of course, Jungkook was not able to afford it and he even refused to get one but Jimin insisted.

“Think of it as a ‘thank you’ for taking care of Jooyeon,” Jimin convinced. He was one step away from giving Jungkook the puppy eyes again.

Jungkook gave in and ordered the cheapest ice-cream they sold, no extra toppings and only one scoop of a strawberry cheesecake. Jooyeon had two scoops – one vanilla and one ice-cream whereas Jimin had chosen cookies and cream.

Jimin carried both his and Jooyeon’s ice-cream to the table while Jooyeon waddled behind him. Placing the cups on the table, he hefted Jooyeon with ease onto the plastic chair before pulling out another chair for Jungkook. Jungkook stared in confusion and embarrassment, flattered that Jimin was being such a gentleman. Jimin gave him a heart-stopping smile before sitting down on his seat.

Awkwardly, Jungkook sat next to Jimin, not bothering to look up and only stared at his ice-cream.

Jooyeon was happily eating her own ice-cream, oblivious at the uncomfortable situation she was putting Jungkook in. He heard Jimin complained about Jooyeon’s eating habits before he feed himself a spoonful of strawberry cheesecake.

“So, Jungkook…”

It startled him into lifting his head, to look at Jimin who had the small pink spoon between his lips. Jimin took it out, softly stabbing his ice-cream with it before continuing, “I’m guessing you’re waiting for your results?”

“I am, actually,” he answered, playing with the ice-cream using his spoon.

“Are you thinking of going to Uni or…?”

“Maybe. I’m not sure yet. I don’t feel like going, but it feels like the only right thing to do.”

Their conversation was interrupted by Jooyeon, who was calling Jimin’s name repeatedly. Jimin turned towards Jooyeon, annoyance never present in his face and his feature was so, so soft when he patted her hair.

“Jiminie! Jiminie! Say aah!” Jooyeon called out, one hand holding on a spoon full of mixed ice-cream.

Jimin’s face broke into a huge grin, and Jungkook thought there was nothing purer than Jimin bringing his face closer to Jooyeon, mouth open wide to be fed by his little girl. Jooyeon was careful, her eyes trained on the spoon she was holding as she fed Jimin. Jimin pat her head again, thanking her for the delicious ice-cream before turning back to Jungkook.

Jungkook looked away, trying to occupy himself by eating his ice-cream and hoped that Jimin did not catch him staring.

“You know what’s the right thing to do?”

Jimin’s question caused Jungkook to turn to him, wondering what was to come next. Jungkook did not answer, waiting for Jimin to proceed.

When he did, Jimin had an unreadable expression on his face. Jungkook could not decide if it was worry or agony, but he ended it with a smile that tug on Jungkook’s heartstrings. “Believing in yourself. What’s the use of forcing yourself going somewhere you don’t wanna go?”

Jungkook swallowed nervously, unable to tear his eyes away from Jimin’s.

“What about you?” he asked, voice lowered that he thought he was only thinking it. He continued, louder this time, “Did you go?”

“I didn’t,” Jimin replied. “Her mother needed me. So, I didn’t go.”

“Oh…”

“Well! My ice-cream’s melting. Let’s finish up, shall we?”

Jungkook knew it was just a dumb crush, but he could not help feeling the flower of jealousy blooming in his chest at the mention of Jooyeon’s mother and the way Jimin spoke softly of her. He knew he should have not gone with them, getting to know Jimin would only come with more damage. Jungkook knew, he damn well knew, but he went for it anyway.

  After struggling to keep Jooyeon away from the toy store, Jimin drove Jungkook home.

The journey to Jungkook’s house was filled with Jooyeon happily singing along to Baby Shark Doo Doo Doo Doo that was playing on Jimin’s phone. Jimin would sing along to it too, just to entertain Jooyeon and Jungkook caught himself humming to the tune at the red light.

Unfortunately for Jungkook, Jimin saw his actions through the rear-view mirror and burst into a fit of laughter. Jungkook’s face was scarlet with mingled embarrassment and fury. “It’s catchy, okay!”

“It’s a children’s song, of course it’s supposed to be catchy. Wouldn’t want Jooyeonie to grow up listening to Cash Me Outside Remix, wouldn’t we?”

Jungkook blew raspberries as he folded his arms petulantly.

“Oh, come on now,” Jimin giggled, effortlessly shifting into the second gear, crescent eyes glancing at the rear-view mirror now and then. “I already have a baby here, don’t be a baby too.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened a smidgen, jaw dropping to the ground and was at loss for words at the remark. “How dare you!”

The older man winked. “I don’t mind if it’s you, though.”

“Oh my god,” Jungkook murmured under his breath, trying to hard to suffocate the flush that was trying to creep on his cheekbones. He looked away from Jimin, willing himself to stare at the cars outside the window than give Jimin the satisfaction of seeing him blush.

“Left or right, Jungkookie?”

“Right.”

“Say, don’t your mother worries that you’re going out with a stranger?” Jimin questioned, eyes focused on the road as he made a signal to turn right.

Jungkook shrugged. “Technically, we’re not going out. Besides, you’re not a stranger. You’re Jooyeonie’s father.”

He could see the amusement in Jimin’s eyes through the reflection of the mirror when he raised his eyebrows.

“Uh… what about your girlfriend?”

“Don’t have one.”

“Boyfriend?”

“Searching for one,” he muttered under his breath.

“What was that?”

“Don’t have one either,” he answered, louder than before.

“I see. Do I turn left or—?”

“Just go straight.”

“Can’t do that. I’m gay,” Jimin chuckled.

Jungkook nearly choked on his breath at the sudden revelation. There were some questions forming inside Jungkook’s head, waiting to be let out and desperate to be answered but Jungkook managed to clamp his mouth shut. He did not want to seem like he was prying or mildly interested in Jimin’s sudden revelation.

“T… That’s cool,” Jungkook managed, only to yell at himself in his head for being totally uncool.

The ensuing silence lasted for a minute or two until the familiar red roof appeared in Jungkook’s line of vision. He was never this glad to have seen his house before. All he wanted to do was to run outside and stand in the middle of the road, waiting for a dumpster truck to run him over. He could not seem to stop embarrassing himself around Jimin and it was killing him slowly.

“There it is.”

“Here?”

“Yep.”

The car slowed down and Jungkook waited for it to come to a stop to make a grand exit. He considered somersaulting to the window, breaking the glasses into pieces but the last thing he wanted was to owe Jimin money to fix his car windows.

“Thank you for the treat. That was very nice of you,” Jungkook said hurriedly before bowing slightly, a part of him feeling guilty for sounding impolite but he was more worried of exposing more of his dorky side to Jimin.

Jimin had the window down by then, one arm resting on the windowsill, which made him ten times more handsome and Jungkook wanted to sob right there and then. Before Jungkook could dash to his house, Jimin spoke up.

“Jungkookie?”

“Yeah?”

“Here.” Jimin looked down momentarily, one hand rustling through what Jungkook assumed was the pocket of his jeans before taking out a piece of folded napkin to hand in to Jungkook. Bewildered, Jungkook inched closer to take it. “You had a lil something on your lip there.”

“O… kay.”

“Bye, Jungkookie. Jooyeon, say bye to Teacher Kook.”

Without looking up from the phone in her tiny hands, Jooyeon let out an enthusiastic, “Bye!!”

Jimin chuckled before giving Jungkook a lopsided smile. “See ya.”

“Yeah.”

Jungkook watched as Jimin began to drive, and it was only when Jimin’s car was just a dot in his vision that he started to let out a scream, elated that he lived this long to experience such a wonderful thing. Sure, it was not like all the soap operas his mother watched on TV, but it felt so much better and it was enough for him. He let out a dreamy sigh, skipping to his house with joy with the folded napkin held tightly onto his chest.

It was only when he reached the front door when he unfolded the napkin on his hand to find a number scrawled on it.

“What the—” he muttered, narrowing his eyes as if the action would help in figuring out what the digits meant.

Perhaps it was true what they say about having crushes, that crushes only make you stupid.

And Jungkook finally got it when his hand touched the doorknob. It was Jimin’s number.

  ♡♡♡

 “It’s so… weird,” Jungkook frowned, eyes staring straight at the ceiling.

He had the tendency to sit around, doing absolutely nothing after a hot shower and tonight he decided to give Yugyeom a call. Still in his bathrobe, he lain on his bed with one arm up for no reason while his other hand held his phone to his ear. He examined his arm, widening the gap of his fingers and wondered if Jimin’s hand fit around his.

(Because, honestly, you can call Jungkook a creep for staring at Jiminie’s hands for too long. They were smaller than this, Jungkook was sure, and his fingers were so stubby it was too adorable.)

“What is? You crushing on men you won’t be able to get? Yeah, we’ve been there, buddy,” Yugyeom replied. Jungkook could already see the boy rolling his eyes.

“Don’t you think it’s weird? I mean, I’m his kid’s teacher. Isn’t it against the law to date your student’s father?”

“Dude, you’re just an assistant teacher. Technically, you’re not teaching his kid shit. Besides, you’re more of a babysitter than a teacher.”

Jungkook groaned, sitting up from his bed so abruptly that it creaked. He ruffled his wet hair in annoyance, not bothering to grab the hairdryer only a few metres away from him. “Yeah, but like… it’s inappropriate, isn’t it?”

“The kid confirms that he likes you too. What’s the problem with that?”

“The problem is that he has a kid.” Jungkook winced internally. “And just like you said, I’m babysitting his kid. That’s just fucking weird.”

“Look, Jeon Jungkook, I can see my date waving his hand to me right now and he’s approaching me. Do you know why I’m on a date now? Because I’m not a moron like you. I saw a chance and I took it. I’m gonna go now, bye bye.”

The moment the line was cut off abruptly, Jungkook tore the phone away from his ear to stare at the home screen incredulously, a little bit startled that Yugyeom dared to ditch his best friend alone when in trouble.

He let out a sigh, the words Yugyeom said a few seconds ago lingering inside his mind.

He liked Jimin, he really did. Jimin was sweet, he was even sweeter to Jooyeon and he probably had no idea that his kid was such a devil. Scrunching his nose in distaste, he laid back to the mattress, hoping his dumb crush would just disappear into thin air.

He saved Jimin’s number in his phone and spent nearly half an hour debating with himself whether it was even okay for him to do so. Despite the fact that his position as an assistant teacher would only last in less than two months, he still thought that it was wrong for him to harbour a crush towards Jimin. His job was only temporary and if he remembered it correctly, it never really specified that it was against his contract to date Jimin.

“Oh my god,” he muttered before shaking his head in an attempt to get the image of him holding Jimin’s hand from his head. “How the fuck did I even get myself into this mess…”

   His mother assured him that he would be fine if he rested for the whole day but it was only on the third day that he was starting to feel better. Due to his non-stop sneezing and sudden coughing fits, Jungkook took three days off from work which meant that he missed seeing Jimin even if it usually lasted for a minute. Two, if he was lucky. Missing work also meant that he got to spend all day in bed, neglecting his responsibilities and finally catching up on the webtoons he was supposed to read.

When he got back to work, Sooyoung was kind enough to let Jungkook do lighter tasks. Surprisingly, Hansol had half a heart to wash the children’s butts for the whole day instead of running away from it. Of course, Jooyeon just had to make a girl cry today and was punished to be put away in The Room.

As if she knew it was Jungkook who was assigned to her, she placed what seemed like a ‘get well soon’ card on top of the table across of hers. When Jungkook went inside the room, a handkerchief in hand, he found her sitting in a polite manner. Both hands on her knees and legs staying still.

Jungkook nearly scoffed at the rare sight he was witnessing before pulling the green chair to sit in front of her. His eyes were immediately drawn to the paper on top of his table as it was terribly hard to miss.

“What’s this?” he asked, motioning towards the card.

“Get Well Soon card. It’s for Jungkookie. Do you like it?”

The front page was full of various colours made by crayons, there was a purple-coloured sun on the corner of the top page. Scrawled in the middle of the page was Jooyeon’s handwriting that read “To : Kookie Teacher” in yellow and there was, what Jungkook assumed, him.

He remained silent the whole time he was staring at the card, not really sure how to feel. Grateful? Absolutely. Touched? Definitely. If this was coming from Yeri or Somi, Jungkook would have scooped them in his arms and smother them with kisses. But this was coming from Park Jooyeon, whom every staff tried to avoid, who prove that the devil reincarnates do exist.

He opened the card gently, not expecting a huge perfectly drawn red heart at the centre of the page. Much different than the scrawled drawings at the cover. There was a drawing of a stick man with orange hair, and it was only when Jungkook noticed it when it dawned to him that it was Jimin.

‘Get well soon, Teacher Kookie!! Drink lots of water & eat veggies!’ was written neatly, and upon knowing that it was not Jooyeon’s handwriting, a small smile cracked on his lips.

“Do you like it? Do you like it?”

Jungkook chuckled, slightly shaking his head in an attempt to hide his smile before looking up and pat her head gently. “I do.”

“Do you wanna know a secret?”

“Hm?”

Jooyeon leaned in closer, both hands cupping the sides of her mouth in an attempt to avoid Pooh the Bear on the shelf from reading her lips. “That was Jiminie. It was Jiminie who write that,” she whispered.

“Really?” he raised a brow, playing along. He could not help but to grin when Jooyeon nodded vigorously.

“Really! He also said… you are pretty.”

Jungkook felt himself heat up and cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

“And! And! And! And you should call him!”

“He said that?”

“Uhuh! He did!”

“And how did you know this…?”

“Jiminie told me!”

Jungkook squinted his eyes towards Jooyeon, sceptical at the confidence the girl was radiating. As much as he wanted to trust her, he hesitated in doing so. Why would the little witch say all of these things, was it to give Jungkook temporary happiness only for it to die later?

“I don’t trust you,” Jungkook muttered.

She shrugged, as if to say ‘it’s your loss’.

“Also…” she puffed her rosy cheeks, one finger tapping on her chin to pretend as if she was thinking. “You promised banana milk!”

“Ah, crap…”

Of course, Jungkook ended up giving his banana milk to Jooyeon behind the teachers’ backs. Hansol caught him sneakily placing the banana milk underneath his shirt but Jungkook was lucky that Hansol was laidback and the guy did not give a single fuck to why Jungkook was on full alert mode the moment he entered the kitchen.

Jooyeon drank the milk happily, although it was not recess yet. He hated to admit that he was probably growing fond for the girl, and he hated himself more for thinking that he was doing this because he wanted to get to know Jimin. He frowned when the realisation hit him, only for his lips to quickly curve into a smile when Jooyeon beamed brightly at him.

When school was over, Jooyeon was picked up early by her grandmother, much to Jungkook’s chagrin. Jooyeon going home early meant that he could go home early too. Just as he was about to grab his phone to give his mother a call, Sooyoung approached him to let him know there was a small impromptu meeting among the teachers.

It baffled Jungkook that the assistants were also called, because usually it would only be the teaching staff.

There were only seven teachers in total, including the assistants. The school was not exactly what Jungkook would call humongous and the students were only a few, so it made sense that they held the meeting in one of the classrooms. All of them were sat on the tiny, colourful, wooden chairs the students used and Jungkook took the seat next to Hansol.

The meeting was only brief, with the teachers explaining their plans to let the kids go out during physical activities and the next parent-teacher meeting event. Jungkook was only half-listening, back already slumping and it was only when he heard his name mentioned that he jolted in his seat.

“… Jungkook-ssi?”

“Uh… sorry?” He could feel his ears turning red at his own stupidity. Out of all times to not pay attention, he just had to choose one where they all have their first meeting.

The oldest teacher in the school, Ms. Yoora, only smiled at Jungkook’s action. “You’re assigned to look after Park Jooyeon, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Anything you want to say regarding the child? We could file it and let her parents know.”

“No, actually. She’s been tolerable so far.”

Ms. Yoora smiled again before chuckling. Jungkook noticed that everyone’s attention was on him now and he suddenly had this strong urge to clear his throat and look away.

“It’s fine, Jungkook-ssi. It wouldn’t be Park Jooyeon if there aren’t any complaints.”

His finger twitched to tap against the wooden table, eyebrow slightly raised in confusion at the words Ms. Yoora uttered. It was almost as if she wanted Jungkook to have dirt against a child. “Well…” he took a deep breath before shaking his head. “No. She’s improved. Besides, she always finishes her work now.”

“That’s good to know.”

Jungkook caught the disbelief look that flashed across Mr. Jinki’s face. For a moment there, he felt uncomfortable.

“Less than two months until you’re resigning, right Jungkook-ssi?”

As if it was not humiliating enough that his mother was the one who got him this job, his mother also had the audacity to emphasize that Jungkook was only staying until the application for the university was open. He pressed his lips in a straight line in an attempt to smile but failing to do so.

“Yes,” he answered, hoping his ears were not turning red despite them feeling warm.

Jungkook could finally breathe easy when Ms. Yoora took her attention off of him to say something about the children recess hour. He felt a small nudge on his shoulder and when he looked up, Hansol was giving him a lopsided grin.

And despite being excited that he was going to leave soon, there was an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  ♡♡♡

  “Jiminie’s wondering why you’re not giving him a call.”

It never ceased to amuse Jungkook how Jooyeon could just call Jimin ‘Jiminie’ as if it was the most normal thing to do for a kid. Jungkook learnt to brush it off because Jimin did not seem to mind. Besides, it also gave him a chance to use the cute nickname whenever they got around to talking about topics relating to Jiminie.

Due to her recent behaviour, Jooyeon was no longer being isolated in a room with Jungkook although the girl seemed like that she preferred to have it that way. Truth be told, Jungkook kind of enjoying the time they spent together. With all the kids around, it was quite difficult to talk about the man who may be the love of his life.

Jungkook can dream.

Jungkook shrugged. “I don’t know…”

“Why don’t you know? How can you not know? You’re an adult.”

“I’m nineteen, Jooyeon,” he said exasperatedly.

Jooyeon pouted before getting off from the chair to crawl onto Jungkook’s lap. Jungkook sighed in annoyance but chose to not do anything about it when she settled nicely on his lap. She tilted her head slightly to look up at him. “Do you not like Jiminie?”

He narrowed his eyes sceptically, not exactly sure how to answer.

“What do you not like? Jiminie is handsome.”

“Did he ask you to say that?”

She giggled, covering her mouth with her tiny hands. Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“If you like Jiminie, does that mean you’re his boyfriend?”

Jungkook facepalmed, embarrassed that the kid was asking him questions regarding that. He had enough of his relatives asking him to bring his partner to family events and now he had to listen a kid asking him to date her dad.

“No, Jooyeon. He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Why?”

“Because it doesn’t work like that.”

“Why?”

Jungkook heaved a sigh before lifting her up to place her on top of the table to face him. He leaned in closer, doe eyes staring straight into hers. “To be boyfriends, we have to go on a date. Not only dates, but we have to love each other too. That’s simply impossible.”

“I see!”

“Okay?”

“Okay. I’ll get you a date.”

“Wait what?”

  True to her words, Jungkook did get a date.

It was two days after she made a promise when Jimin came by to the kindergarten to greet Jungkook. Jungkook was not able to look at Jimin in the eyes when he came through the entrance, looking more gorgeous from Jungkook last saw him. Jooyeon ran straight up to him and in turn, Jimin lifted her effortlessly and kissed her cheek.

Jungkook only smiled, ready to turn his back and ran to the kitchen to lock himself up. It was the first day they met since Jimin slyly gave Jungkook his digits. The only thing Jungkook wanted was to vanish into thin air at the moment, anxious to have the inevitable ‘why didn’t you call?’ conversation.

Before he could dash to the kitchen, Jimin called him out, voice light and sweet.

“Teacher Kook…?”

“Fuck,” Jungkook murmured underneath his breath before giving Jimin a smile that he hoped did not show how awkward he was feeling inside. “Yes?”

Jimin gave Jungkook a lopsided smile, making him even more charming than usual. With Jooyeon still in his hold, he said, “Did you get my number?”

“Ah, yes…”

“Was wondering when you’d call.” Jimin’s grin turned wider, almost blinding Jungkook with his beauty. “Or did I get the wrong signal…?”

Jimin’s gaze on him made his stomach turn, baffled and amazed at how Jimin was so confident. Jungkook turned to Jooyeon instead, whose small hands was clutching onto Jimin’s white shirt as she looked up to Jungkook. She looked innocent, almost too pure even, and yet Jungkook could not help but to scream internally at the sight of her. He knew she was the one who did this. He just was not sure if he should be thankful or pay someone to run him over with a truck.

“Um…”

“Little birdie told me I was not wrong though,” Jimin giggled.

“W-what?”

“Little birdie suggested that we should go on a date,” Jimin continued, hefting Jooyeon to hold her closer and more securely.

Jungkook glared at Jooyeon, who was by then grinning as if she was not the one to blame.

Jimin chewed on his lower lip before saying, “So… I’m taking a chance here and I’d like to ask you out on a date. What do you say? Please don’t be obliged to say yes, I don’t want to force you into doing anything you don’t wanna do.”

He felt that familiar heat crept up his spine and engulf his face from the ears. All he could do was nod and force himself to breathe through his terror. Someone asking him out on a date? That was not something that come rather easily. Besides, it was Park Jimin. Jungkook could not say no. Especially not when Jimin was being all charming and Jooyeon giggling softly at his reaction.

“Oh, thank god…” Jimin murmured. “For a moment I thought you’d say no.”

Jungkook scrunched his nose, letting a small laugh escape his lips.

“Great. I’ll pick you up later, yeah?”

Jungkook did not say anything, his blood was rushing to his brain in an attempt to comprehend the words that he thought he will never hear for the rest of his life. It was only when Jimin was only a step away from the exit that Jungkook blurted out, “Later?”

“Yeah,” Jimin turned to wink before he left.

Jungkook was left alone, jaw dropping to the floor.

“Oh my god…” he muttered. He repeated, even louder this time, “Oh my god.”

Fuck. He was really going to go on a date with Jimin.

And it was only when Jimin left that he remembered he did not ask for the time. Fuck.

  ♡♡♡

  Honestly, Jungkook was never really a big fan for fashion. Most of the times, he would just get something comfortable for him to wear. Comfortable and clean. Besides the suit for formal occasion, none of the stuff he had in the closet were very attractive. Most of them are graphic t-shirts, and these shirts were not exactly something he would want to wear on a first date.

He called Yugyeom for help, but the bloke only burst out a boisterous laughter for five minutes straight rather than giving him any help. Not being able to stand the teasing, he hung up and decided to grab a plain white shirt and his favourite lucky jeans.

“Fuck,” he muttered, a scowl visible on his lips when he looked at his reflection on the mirror. The shirt was too big on him, and while any other day he would just get out of the house without giving a second thought about how he looked, a small part of him wanted to impress Jimin.

He sighed before tucking the shirt in, noting that this look would show off his bum. “Ah, I don’t know anymore!”

With one last glance on the mirror, he took his phone and house key from the table.

  Despite promising himself not to text Jimin, he ended up doing so. However, he deemed his reason as strong enough so it certainly did not count as breaking the promise. Before he could even panic over one typo, he heard a familiar ding, saving him from drowning in a puddle of embarrassment.

One thing he knew for sure was first dates were supposed to be magical. Jungkook had been on three dates so far, and looking back, they were not really pleasant now that he thought of it. He was young, blinded by love and it surely was… not cool.

But this date with Jimin made his heart pound vehemently against his chest, threatening to crack his ribs and hands sweat profusely. He sat on the couch in the living room, anxiously switching the channels on the TV. Fortunately for him, his mother was out to buy grocery so he did not have to hear his mother prattling about how unusual it was of Jungkook to leave his room.

He settled on a cartoon channel, finally putting down the remote after pressing on the next button for so long. In between the episode of Spongebob going to karate island, he kept on locking and unlocking his phone to check the time.

It was only on 3.14PM when he heard the sound of a car approaching. Grabbing the remote quickly, he turned off the TV and leaped over the couch to peek out of the window.

His breath hitched when he caught sight of Jimin, heart beating wildly and mind racing because he could not believe that he was really going on a date.

And he was going on a date with a gorgeous demigod, looking so beautiful from head to toe. As Jimin made his way towards the front door, Jungkook mind decided it was the perfect time to alert him of how truly unpresentable his house was. Eyes widening in panic, he rushed towards the front door, nearly bumping onto Jimin who had his hand up in an attempt to knock.

“Hey,” Jimin grinned, nearly killing Jungkook with the heart-stopping smile. Jungkook swore he saw one of the dead flowers in his mother so-called garden grew.

“Hi.”

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked with a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” God, he was fucking panting.

“You ready to go?”

“Yep.”

Jimin giggled at the enthusiasm dripping from his voice, eyes forming half-moons when the adorable sound coming out of his mouth. Jungkook gulped, worried that he was coming off as weird already. The last thing he wanted was for Jimin to think he was a weirdo and regret going out with him.

Without Jooyeon around, it was certainly different. While the girl would interrupt whenever a conversation was happening, it was now quiet and awkward even. Jungkook tried to ignore the obvious glances Jimin took at him, but it was proven to be difficult when all Jungkook wanted to do was stare at Jimin (not creepily, of course) as he drove.

His mind was consumed with the thoughts of him screwing up that he did not realize they have arrived at the destination until the sound of the handbrake being pulled was heard. Jungkook turned to Jimin, confusion written all over his face when he’d seen the familiar place outside of the window.

“Amusement park?” he heard himself mutter and good lord, did he regret it. Jimin’s face fell as soon as the words left his mouth, causing him to panic.

“You don’t like it? God, I’m so sorry—”

“No, no, no! I like it, it’s just that — I didn’t take you for an amusement park type of person.”

“Yeah? What do you take me for then?” Jimin grinned, not a single malicious intent underneath his succulent voice.

Jungkook found himself grinning too as he shrugged. “I don’t know… expensive restaurant type of person, I guess.”

Jimin let out a small laugh, mellifluous and contagious, as he threw his head back, covering his mouth in the process. “Lucky for you, I can be both.”

“Pfft.”

“You don’t trust me?” Jimin pouted, feigning hurt as he placed a hand on his chest.

Jungkook could only roll his eyes, a reaction that seemed to be appropriate at the moment as an attempt to hide the fact how fast his heart was beating.

“Maybe on our next date, we’ll go there. C’mon now, let’s ride the merry go round.”

He thanked the lord that Jimin went out of the car, or else he would have seen how red Jungkook was the moment he mentioned the possibility of next date.

   While Jungkook’s friends would go out to hang out at the amusement park on Sundays, Jungkook would be staying in as he got a tutor to teach him at home. The last time he went to an amusement park was with his whole family, and he did not even get to enjoy it the fullest with his dad suddenly being called to go to his office.

So, when he finally set foot again at the age of nineteen, he finally understood why his friends really loved going there. All thoughts of him being a weirdo in Jimin’s eyes dissipated, now replaced with the burning desire to win every single game he laid his eyes upon.

Jimin seemed to be amused as he tagged along, letting Jungkook drag him to a new game after winning the one he was currently playing.

The whole time Jungkook was being talkative than usual, the fire in his eyes visible as he rolled his sleeves to hit a beaver with the squeaky hammer. Jimin helped him by hitting the beavers with his hand, it was cheating and they ended up laughing when the owner chased them away.

They were sitting on one of the tables, Jungkook now acquired a ridiculous headband he put on his head while Jimin now had a new plushy friend. The sundae they ordered tasted splendid, maybe it was because the both of them were famished from all the laughter and energy they spent on the games.

“You’ve been here before?”

Jungkook shrugged, eyes fixated on the chocolate ice-cream as he took a scoop using his plastic spoon. “Once. Twice, I think. Back then they did not have lots of games.”

“I was so worried you might hate it.”

“Hate it?” Jungkook chuckled in disbelief, looking up to Jimin with an eyebrow raised. “More like, love it. I never really got the time to do this, even with my friends. So really, thank you for this.”

Subconsciously, Jimin quirked his head to the side slightly, blinking at him in confusion before asking, “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Jungkook began with a sigh. “I was mostly tutored at home on Sundays, with a promise to get into some school thinking that maybe if I do get in, I’d have more time to myself. But turns out it’s wrong, because as soon as I got in, there’s more work to be done and I ended up having no time at all.”

Jimin had this sympathetic look on his face, where his plump lips parted and his eyes filled with pity as he looked at Jungkook. Jungkook hated it, hated being pitied and all he wished for right there and then, was for the ground to open up and swallow him whole so Jimin could stop pitying him.

“What course did you take?”

“Accounting,” he answered, shrugging nonchalantly although his voice was heavy.

“You like it?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Is that why you’re not planning to go to Uni?”

He nodded sceptically. He was not comfortable in talking about educational stuff because it made him scared of the future, but there was just something in the way Jimin spoke, how he found comfort in his presence, that Jungkook felt like he wanted to spill it all out to Jimin despite finding it hard to do so with his own friends.

“I’m a college dropout, and the last thing you wanted to hear is an advice from me,” Jimin murmured. “But if it feels like the right thing to do, you should go for it. When will you live your life the way you wanted to, if you keep on letting others decide for you?”

“It’s just so difficult for me. I don’t know, honestly.”

Jimin smiled. “You’ll find out eventually. You’ll know, I believe in you.”

Jungkook did not want to be that person who broke down to tears every time a person said something nice about him, and he certainly did not want to cry on his first date with Jimin, so he said the first thing that came into his mind:

“Let’s ride the pirate ship.”

   Riding the pirate ship was fun because of two things:

a)    It turned out Jimin was not a big fan of heights nor thrill rides, so the screams emitted from the tangerine haired man surprised the hell out of Jungkook but it was hilarious. (He felt bad for laughing afterwards mainly because Jimin sulked.)

b)    Everyone, including Jimin, was too busy screaming to notice the tear that slipped from Jungkook’s eye due to the heart-warming conversation they had earlier. (So, Jungkook was an emotional man, sue him.)

“That was fun!” Jungkook squealed, after getting off the pirate ship while Jimin had to hold onto the railing for some support.

Jimin let out a cough before glaring at Jungkook. “Fun? I nearly died!”

“Let’s go again!”

“Oh no, I don’t think so. Once is enough.”

Jungkook only laughed at the response, immediately feeling ten times better than he did minutes ago. He suggested to go to the rollercoaster next, which Jimin abruptly denied, threatening that he’d go straight back home if Jungkook forced him to go.

The sky turned scarlet gold by the time they were on their way back to the parking lot, hands full of items they won from the games they have played. Unlike their ride to the amusement park, they began to feel more comfortable around each other, Jungkook cracking a cheesy joke once in a while and when he heard himself, he wished he has not said it but the moment Jimin broke into a boisterous laughter, shoulders shaking so hard he had to pull over to the side of the road from laughing too hard, Jungkook decided that he loved making Jimin laugh.

He thought Jimin would have sent him straight back home, seeing that it was nearly 7PM and when he voiced it out, Jimin only replied with, “Without feeding you? No way!”

Which was how they ended up in a small restaurant Jungkook never heard of, situated between a vintage shop and a bookstore. Even before he stepped a foot in, the smell of fried chicken tickled his nostrils and filled his lungs, causing his stomach to growl in hunger.

The moment the both of them entered the restaurant, an aunty from the counter greeted with a booming voice, “Hello, Jiminie! Came back with a friend now, I see.”

Jimin chuckled, replying back with a, “I miss your food already,” as he pulled a chair from the table near the wall.

The aunty giggled, treading towards their table with a notepad ready in one hand.

The both of them ordered one plate of chicken, Jimin requesting all of them to be the wing parts. Jungkook settled with fried rice while Jimin went with ramen.

“I love this place, I’ve gone here since I was a kid.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, my dad used to take me here after school. I plan to bring Jooyeon here someday, but I just did not have the time.”

Jungkook hoped Jimin did not caught the flash of apprehension on his face as soon as he uttered his kid’s name, a reminder to Jungkook that the man with him now had a child, possibly had a wife before then too. He managed to cover his feelings with a grin.

“That reminds me, actually. I was wondering why you were always late when picking her up…”

Jimin tilted his head slightly, eyes not meeting Jungkook’s as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well,” he susurrated, “Her mother got a new job in the city and although it’s not exactly near my workplace, I was the closest to her at the moment. Usually my parents would offer to pick her up, but they also had their own thing going so…”

“Oh, I see. I understand,” Jungkook murmured.

“Terribly sorry though, for all the troubles I’ve caused you. We’re thinking of moving her to a new school, but it’ll only take months from her graduation day so we decided against it.”

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows, surprised at the news. “Moving Jooyeon? Really?”

Jimin chuckled, shaking his head. “My sister told her first, and she threw a fit. She loves the school, you see.”

‘Of course she loved it, she’s the Supreme Lord who wants to dominate everybody,’ Jungkook thought.

“She loves you too.”

Now, that one Jungkook never expect to see it coming. Park Jooyeon? Loving somebody? It was absurd to Jungkook.

“She talks about you every single day after we got home, she told us how nice you were to her and how you’re never angry at her,” Jimin smiled. “We always receive complains, you know, whenever there’s a parent-teacher meeting. It was the first time I’ve heard of someone not punishing her for making other kid cry.”

Jungkook pressed his lips into a straight line, feeling a bit guilty for having Jimin praising him. Most of what he said was true, Jungkook never yelled or punish Jooyeon, and that was only because he mastered the art of avoiding her. Whenever she stirred up troubles, it was always the others that handle her.

“She’s a kid. I can’t do that to a kid, Jimin,” Jungkook muttered.

“And I can see now why she loves you, Jungkook. Really, thank you for taking care of her.”

He felt warmth on top of his hand and he glanced to find Jimin’s hand on top of his.

Jungkook did not look up, afraid to look at Jimin as guilt flowed into his veins. He looked up to Jimin eventually when Jimin’s thumb circled gently on his, the man had a soft smile on his lips, eyes filled with what Jungkook believed were little stars, tightening the clamp around Jungkook’s chest.

Jungkook swallowed, forcing himself to smile back but it was difficult when his head was filled with the thought of the feelings he stored for his daughter back then, the thought of Jimin with the mother of his kid.

He struggled to find the right words for him to say, and thankfully for him, their food arrived just in time.

  The drive back home was filled with comfortable silence between them, only the radio playing the latest hit songs with Jimin humming to the ones he knew. Once arrived, the both of them went out of the car, Jimin hurriedly running to open the back door for Jungkook to grab his stuff.

“Thanks for today,” Jungkook smiled, hugging the plushies close to his chest.

Jimin grinned as he closed the door, folding his arms after as he leaned against the car. “I had a great time, Jungkook.”

“Me too.”

“I…” Jimin stood up straight now, the confident demeanour he had just seconds ago now vanished into thin air. “I was wondering,” he started with a huff, looking as if he was debating with himself.

“Uhuh.”

“I was wondering if… uh… if you’d like to this again. Sometimes. If you don’t mind.”

Jungkook chuckled, letting his gaze fall to his shoes, unsure what to answer Jimin. He liked Jimin, he really did. Jimin made him open up in a way no one ever did, he made Jungkook feel like he mattered.

“I’d love to, I really do,” Jungkook answered before letting out a sigh. “But…”

Jimin panicked. “But…?”

“But my results coming up real soon, and I think I might want to pursue higher education. So… I might be a bit busy.”

Jimin heaved out a sigh of relief. “Noted. Understood. For a second there, I thought you might not like me. That’ll be a real problem.”

As soon as the words escaped his mouth, Jimin’s eyes widened and he stuttered to fix his mistake, “I mean — you’re a great person and a-all.”

Jungkook only let out a small laugh.

‘But I do like you. A lot. And that’s the real problem.’

  ♡♡♡

  Jungkook was nineteen, nearly twenty in just a couple of months, when it dawned to him that he made terrible life choices sometimes.

And accepting Jimin’s invitation for the date might be on the list now. Because the date turned out pretty well, he had tons of fun which lead his small crush developing into a humongous mess of feelings.

Although he really, really, really liked Jimin, his conscience was begging him to stop. There was absolutely nothing wrong with Jimin – he smelled good, his voice could put the angels down to sleep, he looked as if god took extra time to carve him and the most important of it all, he laughed at Jungkook’s lame ass jokes (yeah, fuck you, Seungcheol, Jungkook did have a sense of humour).

But Jimin happened to have a kid, who was one of Jungkook’s students. He did not know what he was thinking when he kept on looking out for Jimin.

The voice at the back of his head told him that it was not wrong, seeing that they practically did not do anything out of the line at all.

(Sure, Jimin almost kissed him the night after their date – but they were interrupted by Jungkook’s mother, who yelled at Jungkook when she saw them outside. It was embarrassing and certainly a pity, because Jungkook did want to know what it felt like to have Jimin’s lips on his.)

Yugyeom assured him that it was fine, it was not as if Jungkook was a permanent teacher there. He did not even teach Jooyeon – or any of the kids, as a matter of fact – which meant that he was not technically her teacher.

However, he found the whole thing to be unsettling, which made him refused to reply Jimin’s text.

Jimin sent him a message that night.

His debated with himself whether he should, which he did but ended up backspacing everything and turning off his phone. It had been a week since their date, and he had not heard a word from Jimin. A part of him wished that Jimin would send him more texts, wanted Jimin to be wary of why he was not replying, but another part of him was glad that Jimin was not persistent.

After all, it would make the whole ‘moving on’ thing a lot easier.

(Technically, they were never even together but Jungkook was embarrassed to say that he had such strong feelings towards Jimin.)

    It was not Jungkook’s intention to avoid talking to Jooyeon entirely, but he could not help but felt a pang in his chest every time the girl initiated a conversation. It was no secret that it was Jooyeon that brought him closer to Jimin, but she was also the main reason why Jungkook did not allow himself to involve himself any further.

Besides, it was Jooyeon’s grandparents who picked her up lately, which meant there was no need for Jungkook to stay and watch over her as she went home early.

He hated himself for feeling this way, but he missed her. He really did.

    Jungkook’s mind was wandering around, unfocused even though he was staring straight at the TV. Somi was on his lap, too absorbed in watching Mickey Mouse to notice Jungkook was not paying attention. Jooyeon was back in the room again, this time with Sooyoung monitoring her.

When recess came, Jooyeon was allowed to eat with the others and the moment she sat down, she was already looking at Jungkook as if she was asking him to come over. Jungkook purposely made himself busy, feeding the younger children their food and helping them to open their lunchboxes.

The next thing he knew when he was washing his hands, he heard a loud cry from one of the girls, followed by a scream from Sooyoung. The sudden noise made him jump and he abruptly dried his hands to see the commotion.

Jungkook observed the surroundings; a half-eaten sandwich was on the ground, Sooyoung panicking as she picked up Jooyeon from the ground, Hansol flipping through one of the students’ personal files and Mr. Jinki was on the phone as he paced around.

Jungkook’s eyes widened a smidgen, a feeling of dread coursing through his veins as Sooyoung patting on Jooyeon’s back softly.

“What’s happening?” Jungkook asked.

“Allergy reactions. She ate a peanut butter.”

“It’ll take too long for the ambulance to arrive, I’ll bring her to the hospital,” Mr. Jinki suggested, placing his phone at the back of his slacks as he took Jooyeon from Sooyoung’s embrace. “Hansol, have you called her mother? One of you should come with me.”

Jooyeon started sneezing then before she kept on sniffing. “K-koo…”

“I’ll go with you,” Jungkook chimed in. “I can call her father on our way there.”

“Found it!” Hansol exclaimed, eyes scanning through the contact details quickly. “And, uh, Kook? I don’t think there’s a need to call her dad…”

   Mr. Jinki had to go back to school to teach while Jungkook had to wait for Jooyeon and explain her situation to her parents. Her grandparents arrived as soon as she was brought to the emergency room. Honestly, Jungkook was expecting for them to start yelling and point fingers to him or Mr. Jinki, but they were surprisingly very quiet about it.

In fact, they only waited for the doctor patiently and even had the decency to get Jungkook a cup of coffee although he did not deserve it. The doctor came out a few moments later, asking for the legal guardians to go with him. It only dawned to Jungkook how dumb it was to act on impulse and volunteered to go with Mr. Jinki.

As he sat on the chair, arms folded and brows etched, his train of angry thoughts was disturbed by hastened footsteps. Turning to the source of noise, he frowned when he found out whom it belonged it.

Fucking brilliant.

Just motherfucking brilliant.

“Oh my god.” Jimin halted, panting from running. He gulped. “Where- Where’s Jooyeon?”

Jungkook glared at Jimin, the anger burning bright in his veins as he felt his entire body tense with the need to shove Jimin away.

He ended up calling Jimin in the car, despite initially not wanting to do so. The last thing he wanted was to see the liar’s face. Hansol had told him earlier that Jooyeon’s father was somewhere abroad now, that the man would be unreachable which would be impossible for him to come back here to check up on his kid.

Jungkook refused to believe it at first, because he did meet her father.

During the wait, Jungkook took the chance to call Hansol, asking for explanation. Instead of explaining, he hung up and sent Jungkook a picture of Jooyeon’s personal details.

And lo and behold, under FATHER’S NAME, was the name of someone Jungkook was not familiar with.

Instead of PARK JIMIN, what was written underneath the column was CHOI SIWON.

The urge to scream at Jimin was too strong, and luckily Jungkook was aware that they were at the hospital and refrained himself from doing things that might cause trouble.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jungkook demanded. “You’re not her father. Why did you lie to me?”

Jimin’s face fell, his lips parted open and brow raised in confusion. “W-what?”

“All this fucking time, Jimin, all this fucking time—”

“Jungkook, what the heck?”

Jungkook stood up from his seat, ignoring the noise he made when the chair rattled. Folding his arms, he let a scoff jumbled out of his lips. “You’re not her father, Jimin. What type of person would lie about that?”

“Oh my god,” Jimin muttered devastatingly as he ran his fingers through his tangerine bangs. “Look, I’m so sorry about that. It was not my intention.”

“Then who are you? Why would you lie to me? Do you think it’s funny this whole goddamn time?”

Jimin sighed, weariness evident on his face and the way his shoulder slumped. “Kook, I just couldn’t find the right time to—”

Jungkook interrupted him with an empty chuckle as he cocked his head, shaking his head in weak attempt to rein his emotions. “You did not even bother to tell me? Did you take me for a fool?”

“Jungkook, no, what the f— I never think of you like that.”

“Then?”

“You never even asked.”

“Wow,” Jungkook gasped mockingly. “To think that I actually like you. Thank you for proving me wrong.” Jungkook did not want to speak in such venomous tone, but it just came out that way on its account. With one last glare, Jungkook walked away, not bothering to turn to Jimin even when the orange-haired man called out his name.

   11 missed calls from DO NOT ANSWER.

6 new messages from DO NOT ANSWER.

   Jungkook received his results on a Tuesday, when he was watching a rerun of That 70’s Show with a bowl full of potato chips on his lap. He decided to get a day off as he never had one before since he started working there. He managed to drown himself in an ocean of self-loathing, imagining what he would have said more just to hurt Jimin and ended up tearing up at their imaginary argument.

He had not seen Jimin after their meeting at the hospital, and Jooyeon was absent three days after that, meaning he had no contact at all with Jimin. Sure, Jimin sent him several text messages (which he did not bother to open) and missed calls (which he purposely ignored), but soon enough it stopped.

It was as if Jimin gave up on trying to apologize and explain, which Jungkook found to be irritating really, because if he wanted forgiveness, he should work harder for it.

It was during the part where Jackie and Hyde were slow dancing when his phone vibrated on the coffee table. “Finally,” he muttered with an eyeroll, secretly hoping it was Jimin who came back in a desperate attempt to apologize. But instead, it was an email notification from his school.

“Fuck,” he groaned, angry at himself for getting his hopes up.

He lain back on the couch and lazily opened the notification only to jump in surprise as soon as his eyes finished scanning the content.

“Holy shit…” he murmured, rereading the text over and over again to ensure himself that he was not dreaming. “Holy shit!!”

He abruptly called his mother after that, screaming his results the moment she picked up the phone and soon enough his mother started screaming in joy too.

“My smart, beautiful son!” she cooed proudly. If she was there she would have suffocated him in a tight embrace. “I know you can make it, my lovely boy. Do you want to resign this week?”

“Um… what?”

“Your job. I’m sure the they already knew that you’ll be resigning after you’ve gotten your results, right? So, you can focus on Uni now?”

“Oh.” His voice dropped an octave as a wave of realisation hit him that he won’t be able to see Jooyeon (Jimin) anymore. “Yeah, they do.”

“Okay then.” He heard her sigh in content before adding, “We’ll have dinner outside later, yeah? As a celebration. I love you, Jungkook. I’m really proud of you.”

All the anger he consumed made him forgot that he would leave the school, reducing the chances of him to ever see Jimin again. “Fuck,” he muttered, letting himself fall on the couch as he dragged his hand across his face in frustration.

He should be feeling happy that he was leaving soon, and he fucking hated himself for feeling dreadful that he would leave what could-have-been ‘them aka Jimin & Jungkook’ like that; no explanation, just the small argument on the hallway at the hospital.

Fuck.  

   “Teacher Kook.” He heard a small voice calling him while he was stacking chocolate milks carefully on the fridge. He turned to the direction of the source of the voice, to find that Jooyeon was standing in the doorway. Her hair was braided this time and she had her backpack on, clutching the straps tightly.

“Hey,” Jungkook replied, closing the fridge to get up to her. “You’re going home late this time?”

She nodded, stretching out her arms to make grabby hands, implying she wanted to be held. Jungkook sighed before giving in, hefting her effortlessly from the ground and she immediately wrapped her arms around his neck.

“Why didn’t you come yesterday?” she asked, voice so gentle Jungkook thought he was hearing things.

“I was busy,” he answered, going back to the fridge to stack the remaining milks with only one hand this time.

“Are you gonna leave Jooyeon?”

He was not sure whether his ears were defying him, because he would never expect this day to come. The day when he got to hear fear in Jooyeon’s voice, the day when she actually sounded like a harmless little girl.

Incredulous, Jungkook looked down at her. “What? No. I’m gonna stay here until someone picks you up.”

She tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes were huge and Jungkook daresay gleaming with what seemed like tears. It was as if she was putting on her puppy eyes, but it was more different this time. “Teacher Jinki says you’re going to leave.”

“Oh. You mean that,” he murmured.

“Please don’t leave.”

Jungkook took a deep breath, pressing his lips into a straight line before deciding that he was just going to lie through his teeth. One thing he learnt while being surrounded with kids nearly every day, it was that sometimes you got to lie. Now he knew what his mother felt when she told him his father was going on vacation for a long time.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay,” she grinned, the mistiness in her eyes were replaced by thousands of stars and Jungkook almost felt bad for lying.

“Alright, let’s wait at the front, shall we? We can watch Peppa to kill time.”

And Jungkook wished that someone would just kill him when he saw Park fucking Jimin standing near the counter.

‘Ah, fuck.’

“Hey,” Jimin said slowly, testing the waters as he raised his hand to awkwardly waved.

“Hello,” Jungkook replied as uninterested as he could. “Jooyeon, Jimin’s here,” he told her, but her grip around her only seemed to tightened.

“Can we talk?” Jimin asked.

Jungkook would be lying if he did not say no because he really did. Although he was relieved that Jimin was not a father, a part of him felt a little betrayed that Jimin chose to go with the lie instead of telling Jungkook the truth. He sighed before attempting to hand Jooyeon to Jimin, but the attempt proved to be unsuccessful as Jooyeon clung harder to him like a koala. Confused, he asked, “What’s wrong? You shouldn’t keep Jimin waiting.”

“Don’t wanna go, don’t wanna go!”

“Crap,” Jimin murmured, running his fingers through his tangerine locks before approaching them. “She’s been acting up since a few days ago.”

Jungkook wanted to ask why but held himself back. He did not want to get involved anymore.

“Jooyeonie, come on,” Jimin coaxed, trying to pull her away from Jungkook but to no avail.

After a few more tries, Jimin successfully pried her away from him, causing Jooyeon to broke into a fit as she struggled to escape Jimin’s hold. Jungkook only smiled sympathetically as he watched Jimin hushing her to quiet down, gently pushing her head against her chest to silence her screams. She started crying them, sobbing onto Jimin’s chest and while Jungkook would have felt better hearing her cry weeks ago, it was now substituted with a feeling of pity.

“I’m so sorry,” Jimin whispered, one hand caressing her head soothingly.

Before he could stop himself, he heard himself ask, “For her crying or for lying?”

“Okay, I deserved that,” Jimin muttered before answering, “For both. But more towards the lying.”

Jungkook only hummed as a response.

“Jooyeonie, stop crying, won’t you? Teacher Kook’s here now,” Jimin murmured, looking down to Jooyeon as he wiped her tears with his thumb. “He’s here now.”

Jooyeon sniffed, glancing at Jungkook as if she was scared Jungkook might have disappeared into thin air. Jungkook faked a smile he hoped was genuine. “What’s wrong? You’re a big girl now, you shouldn’t be crying.”

Jooyeon pouted, lips trembling as she stared at Jungkook with teary wide eyes.

“It’s fine,” Jungkook assured, bending down to pat her head gently. “You should go home and sleep, okay?”

He looked up to Jimin, who mouthed a thank you before straightening up, hoping they would just leave.

“Look, Jungkook, can we talk outside? Properly, this time?”

“Why?” That was dumb, but it was the only appropriate respond Jungkook would come out with.

“Please. You don’t want two babies to start crying here, don’t you?” Jimin pouted.

Jungkook turned away, forcing himself to tamper down the grin that threatened to take over his face. “Fine,” he answered with a huff. “Only because Hansol is in the toilet.”

To which, a respond from Hansol coming from the toilet was heard. “I wasn’t eavesdropping! Y’all talk too loud!”

  ♡♡♡

   Jooyeon fell asleep in Jimin’s arm as soon as she stopped crying. Carefully, Jimin positioned her on the passenger’s seat and put on the safety belt. Jungkook ignored the way his heart skipped a beat at the sight of Jimin being caring towards the girl who apparently was not his.

With folded arms, Jungkook tilted his head to the side and asked, “What is it that you want to talk about?”

Jimin sighed, putting a hand in the back pocket of his jeans while the other consciously rubbing the back of his neck. “Listen, I’m so sorry, okay.”

“Huh.”

“It was not my intention, I can swear on it. It just happened. You assumed I was her dad, and it was my fault for not correcting you in the first place. I thought it was… amusing at first, and truth be told, I was scared that if I told you the truth, there would not be any reason for me to see you again.”

‘What.’

“I mean, you were this nice guy who put up with her. Trust me, I know what a monster she was. I babysit her all the time, for God’s sake. And knowing that she actually likes you, a person who had only been with her for weeks, it’s kind of… I don’t know, it makes me envious?”

‘The.’

Jimin took a deep breath, directing his gaze heavenward as if seeking divine guidance before continuing, “At first I just wanted to get to know who is this guy? The guy whom my baby claimed to love? And then I saw how good you were with her, how comfortable she was with you and I know that I’ll like you too.”

‘Fuck.’

“Okay, see,” Jungkook interrupted. “Things like you calling her your baby, is what caused the assumption in the first place.”

“But she really is my baby! I raised her,” Jimin countered defensively with a small pout.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “I’m confused now.”

“I’m her uncle, Jungkook. My sister is her mother. I had no choice but to help her in times of crisis. I dropped out of college to help her. Which brings me to my second point—”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped at the revelation, slowly realizing what a dumbass he was. He felt guilty for being mad at Jimin for no apparent reason.

“— I have not been able to reach out to you because, well, I was busy. I’m taking night classes for private exams.”

And there Jungkook’s pride went. Right to the trash can.

“Okay, fuck, Jimin. I had no idea, I’m so sorry that I think of you as this big liar,” Jungkook murmured in shame, not daring to look up to Jimin because he was in The Wrong.

Jimin chuckled. “It’s fine. I’m not really big on talking about stuff like that, honestly. I guess I was just too interested in getting to know you that I forgot to tell you my story.”

“Really though,” Jungkook smiled sympathetically. “I truly am sorry.”

Jimin sighed before grinning. “Are we okay now?”

“Yeah… we are.”

“Good. Cause I’d really like to take you out on a second date, if you don’t mind?”

“What…” Jungkook let out a small laugh, face reddening with embarrassment at Jimin’s bluntness. “But why?”

Jimin raised an eyebrow sceptically. “I thought you… like me too?”

Jungkook blinked.

“Jooyeon loves you, I lo— like you. Maybe we should give us a try again.”

“I—” Jungkook was about to protest, but then he saw the look in Jimin’s eyes – how genuine his eyes were, how careful he was when the words left his lips – and after all the nights he spent awake, wondering why he did not deserve Jimin and why Jimin would lie to him, he knew that it was worth a try. “— okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah.”

Jimin giggled, a sound Jungkook did not know he was dreading to hear again. “Alright. I’ll… talk to you later?”

He felt a smile crept on his lips and this time he did not try to conceal it with a frown. “Okay.”

  ♡♡♡

[some-rfa-imagines]

A Big List Of Prompts

i thought ‘why not?’ and made one of these for myself. I wandered around the internet for a while and shoved together a bunch of prompts I thought were interesting. Pick a character and a number (pls specify) and I’ll write you a thing!

Most of these are not mine!!!

hhhhh lets hope i know what i’m doing

Dialogue:

“I don’t think this is the biggest mistake you’ve made. It’s probably like… third worst.”

“Shouting at each other across the room doesn’t count as having a proper conversation about your feelings you know. Wouldn’t you rather all of this be private, anyway?”

“No pressure, honest. It’s not like the world is depending on you or anything.”

“But if they think we’re a couple, we'll get the couples discount!”

“Are you always this prone to bad luck and violence? If so, that’s kind of sad.”

“Can I just whoop your ass… like… right now?”

“Rules? Nope, not listening. I’m not following them. Never have, never will.”

“Did operation steal the cat and return the nuclear codes get completed yet?"

“I call it 'the plan that will save the world and also remove minions for good'."

“what the hell are you doing with (other character)'s dog locked in your garden?!"

“Yeah!, heh, I just uh remembered that, uhm- I have- uh.. I have a few places to see and uh *ahem*, people to go- I mEAN- uhm, yeah,,, I-I’ll- I’ll be right back— oh! Uh, completely unrelated to that, uh, ngh, wheres the nearest cliff?”

“Shut up [name], just because you have the grace and social skills of a drunken ferret, does not mean I must.”

“You’re so convinced that I’ll hurt them that you haven’t considered it’s the last thing I’d ever want to do.”

“What have I told you about listening to your gut more? It’s smart. Do it.”

“Pal, I don’t know where you got the idea that I’m a good person, but if you want to keep it. Leave now.”

“I can be sweet. Sometimes. To certain people. It happens!”

“Stop laughing!”

“Call me [blank] - not that that's my name.”

“So I suppose you want to ask me how I pulled it off.”

“Didn’t you know darling? The key to getting away with a crime is making people think you are peaceful.”

"I hope that what I've said hasn't hurt you too much."

"Move away from the door and let me at him."

"You embarrassed me this evening."

"I want to turn back the clock to before..."

"Try focusing more on your life and less on mine!"

"There's something I need to get off my chest."

"I did a pregnancy test."

"If you get me his phone, I might reconsider."

"I knew you wouldn't be able to see it through."

"You were meant to be watching him!"

"How dare you look down your nose at me like that."

“It’s not my fault you’re short.”

“Tell me right now or I swear on my life you’ll regret everything.”

“You’re back!”

“I missed you.”

“I did my best, okay?!”

“Kiss me right this second.”

“Just do it!”

“I believe you’ll come back to us. I just know it.”

“You’re not a bad person… You… You wouldn’t…”

“I can’t trust you… Not anymore.”

“Don’t leave me!”

“You promised we were in this together…”

“Wait a minute, are you flirting with me?”

“You’re even more stunning.”

“As many as the stars in the sky.”

“CAN YOU EVEN READ?!”

“You’re actually the most insufferable person I’ve ever had the pleasure meeting.”

“I risked everything for you.”

“I… I love you, okay?”

“Who the hell are you and why is my favourite book in a puddle of orange juice.”

“This is a lot harder than it looks and I don’t think you realise that.”

“That’s the lamest pickup line I’ve ever heard of.” “Damn. Well, it was just plan A.” “And what’s plan B…?” “To take you hostage.”

“What the fuck did they do to you in that lab?”

“Ehhh, needles, comas, that deep freeze thing in the first room, shoving these onto my back. Oh also they forced me to eat soggy bread.”

“Love, you underestimate how much food I can shove in my mouth before I need to be stopped.”

“Okay so why did you have to smash that vase again” “I DIDN’T MEAN TO, IT GOT IN THE WAY”

“Welcome to my treasure trove.” “There’s a sword.” “Yeah.” “wHY DO YOU HAVE A SWORD.” “...” “caaaaaan i touch it?”

“Love, I’ve done this before. Every hundred years. For seventeen millenniums.”

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO (NAME)?!”

“Are… Who are these people? They- They look like me…”

“So, what do you want for dinner?” “I’m thinking Italian. Like, Italian.” “BABE.”

“Oooh, look at the detail on that mirror.”

“Okay now you’re just messing with me and you need to stop.”

“Okay, I know I’m idiotic to get lost in a corn maze but who the fuck are you and why are you apparently as idiotic as I am.”

“I was on my way to buy that soul for Satan, who do you think you are. You can’t do that.”

“I’m sure you know who I am.”

“Huh…? Oh, fuck.”

“I swear to god, my little sister will kill me when I get home.”

“Bit rude to swear to God right now, don’t you think?”

“Fuck. I’m going to die. Damn.”

“YOU DEFINITELY WILL IF YOU DRINK THAT.”

“You know you can’t bring (them), Your Highness, (they’ll) be used against you.”

“Don’t hold me responsible, I wasn’t even there.” “Yeah, but you gave me the idea.”

“You know what, fuck you.”

“The fuck did you say they put on my gravestone?!”

“Honey, I don’t care if you’re the fucking queen or an uncooperative cat, get off your ass and live your life you trash bag.”

“Hey, calm down, please, oh god okay, calm aura, calm aura, please stop freaking out, calm down, it’s okay, you can do this.”

“So that’s it? We’re done?”

“Please, just… hold me. Just for a moment.”

“I think I’m just gonna sleep outside and let the snow bury me until I die.”

“So… what are we?”

“Don’t you dare take another step out that door!”

“This better be good.”

“That… was the worst excuse I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“I’m saying you don’t have a rulebook.”

“These kinds of things don’t just come with an instruction manual, [name]!”

“Why, that’s absurd!”

“I would never.”

“It makes me so uncomfortable when people ask me, ‘Where do you see yourself in 'x’ years?’ Like… I see myself cold in the ground, my guy, but that’s not the answer you want to hear so this is an awkward predicament we’re in, huh.”

“Listen up fucker.”

“Let me tell you all the reasons why I won’t do that.”

“HAVE YOU HEARD OF A TURN SIGNAL EVER IN YOUR LIFE”

“I am already the family disappointment, what more do you want from me”

“Do you?”

“Get. Out.”

“If people are watching, we might as well make this entertaining!”

“I’ve absolutely never seen you in my entire life so if you’ll just excuse me now, have a good day!”

“Okay, stop going to sleep at 4am, it makes you philosophical and sentimental and that’s weird.”

“Make me.”

Setting:

The night sky lit up for a second and what followed sounded a lot like the end of the world.

It's not always the case of 'these guys are foolish to only send one guy' sometimes it's 'we should be terrified they only sent one guy.’

Dear reader, I wish I could tell you that you're going to like this story.

Without meaning to, they’d arranged two dates for the same evening.

Everything about [name] was a lie.

They'd only been apart for a week and already he had a new lover hanging off his arm.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and it may be necessary from time to time to give a stupid or misinformed beholder a black eye.

You guys were taking forever and I was hungry so I baked cookies who wants some?

First Lines:

[Character] had enjoyed ten years of being totally irresponsible.

The pencil had NOT been worth stealing.

[Character] wasn't happy about it, but [pronoun]’d been recalled to life for one reason or another.

If [Character] could change one thing, it would be carrying that gun.

It was enchanting. Either that or [name] was incredibly wasted.

AUs: (many from this blog! Complete credit to them)

Masquerade Ball AU: Person A and Person B can’t recognise each other

Frustrated Customer and Tired Employee AU

Hitman AU: Person A and Person B are hired to take each other out

Assassin AU: After watching B for so long, A has begun to fall for them

Pirate/Mermaid AU

Coffee Shop AU: Why’d you have to smile at me like that, I couldn’t even concentrate on your order oh god I’m blushing why am I so fLUSTERED

Overthrown Royalty AU: Okay so I love you and all, but why the fuck did you have to start a war they’re going to kill you - you’re a dead (queen/king) walking and I hope you know that.

Blood dripped down B’s chin. A knew B was a vampire. A knew they needed blood. But it was a little offensive when B drank from others!Vampire AU

my little sister really looks up to you because she’s going through that phase so she’ll probably kill me again when i get home!Idol AU

Fantasy AU: A is suspicious of the legends. You know, those legends. Everyone knew about them. The ones about the dragons in the hills.

Spy AU: “Fuck, why did you have to be the one to join me on this mission you do realise that it’s dangerous and they don’t care whether we die or not.”

I know my cupcakes are better than your blueberry muffins and that’s what matters and wait holy shit these are actually pretty good!Baking AU

Medieval AU

(Alt) Modern AU

We were both stood up by our dates at this fancy restaurant and they have an ‘at least two to a table’ policy so you need to have dinner with me AU

I know shit all about music theory but I’ve already written and composed hit songs while you’ve been taking lessons for years and struggle with melody please don’t kill me!Musician AU

I answered your weirdly specific craigslist roommate ad as a joke and now we’re living together!Roommates AU

You’re really short and cute and you buy a cup of black coffee every morning but you make weird faces as you sip it and you never finish your drink are you trying to look mature or something!coffee shop AU

reincarnation AU: person A meets their favourite band/singer and realises they were friends in a past life

Hello I’m your boss and you’re the new employee who just saw me shove an entire cupcake into my mouth!Office AU

We’re neighbours and you work at a flower shop and your place is always filled with flowers. I’m too self-conscious to say anything, but I’m allergic af and I look like I’ve been crying every time we meet. Now you probably think I’m in an abusive relationship or something omg

I don’t really know you but we’ve shared a bus stop for years and I just got my first car and I hope this isn’t weird but what I’m trying to say is do you want to carpool with me from now on? Like, to save the environment, I mean.

I can’t give you what you want, why didn’t I leave before we go too emotionally involved AU

I came up to the roof of our apartment building at 2 AM to see this asteroid go by and just as I stepped out you came running at me screaming so naturally I froze and you’re screaming at me so loud I can’t understand what you’re - oh the door locks behind you. Well now we’re both locked out here gdi

someone in the dorms makes amazing cookies and you’re trying to figure it out and walk in on me baking at four in the morning!College AU

I found you duct-taped to a telephone pole thirty feet off the ground

Just to be polite, I held the door open for you but now we’re both insisting that the other go first and we’re seriously about to get into an argument about it and cAN YOU JUST WALK THROUGH THE DOOR P L E A S E

I’m in this museum for a school project, but you are apparently here for fun and good lord you are good looking, so I’m totally going to pretend I know anything at all about the life and works of this random artist…Rembrandt, you say?

IKEA AU: I’m a cashier and when you looked for your wallet about a hundred of our pencils dropped out of your pocket, that’s actually pretty impressive where did you even hide them?

I was rehearsing lines for the romantic lead and I didn’t see you through that window, I had no idea that YOU were playing my romantic interest and now I can’t remember a single line

I tried my hand at this thing called cooking but I ended up making enough to feed a small army. You’re my next door neighbour, so like, are you hungry? You can bring the beer

Soulmates:

Looking around, A tried to spot their best friend when they saw it. Their own handwriting, on someone else’s arm.

A sees B in their mirror every night. They’ve never met in real life.

You can see colours but realise that recently, with each passing day, your world of colours is becoming a little duller and you’re panicking because you don’t know what’s going on, or what it means, or if your soulmate is okay.

We’re having our first argument as a married couple: do we explore this island, or do we stay in bed all day

I can’t give you what you want, why didn’t I leave before we go too emotionally involved AU

You’re not sure if the other half of your tattoo should end with this person’s words, or that one’s—wait, I think it might end with the phrase of that other person too. It’s just a very open-ended sentence…

You’re an Angel and I’m a Demon and we met while hiding in human form and I love you

Author:

Write an apology letter to the character you hurt the most.

Complete the sentence for [character]: “I think the most important thing in the world is…”

You see someone being hit in the street. What superpower would you like to have in this situation?

Write a scenario where you meet your characters.

Would your characters like you? As a person or as an author?

Have a philosophical conversation with your characters.

I would love if you added your own prompts to this! I’ll probably go back and add more later. in the meantime, i’ll go hunt down all the necessary credits! byee~

[sweetlysilent]

Undercover

Requested: Nope

Pairing: Theo Raeken x Reader

Description: Gerard’s army had grown, by a lot, fortunately for you though you were apart of this army, so people trusted you, which worked in your favor since you were secretly a supernatural being yourself, but nobody knew that, they only saw you for what you portrayed to be, a killer of the supernatural.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 3,368

A/N: Wowww hey guys, so it’s been a while since I’ve written like anything, I’m in such a slump and I have intense writers block and just feel so unmotivated. But I want to get back into writing, therefore, I wrote this random Teen Wolf imagine. I kinda just created this in my mind and then just wrote it down. I personally don’t think it’s that great, but maybe you all will like it?? I dunno, but anyways try to enjoy it, I’m kinda iffy on it ngl.

“Everything will change, Scott won’t even know what hit him, once we kill his Beta his whole pack will crumble.” Gerard grinned, as his whole army cheered in admiration.

You on the other hand watched in disgust, all these people were brain washed by this delusional old man who thinks he can overtake the whole world.

You were quickly snapped out of your thoughts from the sound of Gerard’s voice.

“Y/N, you know what to do tomorrow correct?” Gerard pulled you aside, as you nodded in response.

“Of course, how could I forget?” You replied, giving one of your famous smirks, making Gerard laugh darkly, nodding in fascination.

Yes, you were one of his favorites in the group, one of his greatest weapons, if only he knew you were secretly supernatural, then the roles would be completely opposite.

“Theo why are you coming to our practice, you don’t even go here anymore.” Liam complained, his lacrosse gear in his hands, Mason walking beside him as they entered the field.

“Scott told me to stick around with you, I’m just doing what he says.” Theo shrugged, remembering the conversation he had with Scott earlier over the phone.

Liam only huffed in annoyance, putting his helmet on his head before jogging out onto the field with the rest of the team.

Mason sat on the bench along with Theo, observing the area around them just in case something or someone should happen to appear.

“I can’t help but feel like something is going to go wrong, do you ever get those feelings?” Mason questioned, glancing around the field, as Theo rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Not really, but you need to calm down, you reek of anxiety.” Theo groaned, as Mason muttered an apology, watching the team start to practice.

Beacon Hills had a game coming up on Friday, therefore, Coach was making them practice even harder so they’d be ready to win for once.

Mason was too busy cheering on Liam, even though it was only a practice as Theo tried to explain, but Theo was distracted by something else, by your voice, being a werewolf his heightened hearing was a blessing at certain moments.

“Yes, I know what to do, we’ve been over this already, alright bye.” You huffed, hanging up the phone and sitting on a bench a few feet away from Theo and Mason, thankfully they didn’t notice you.

Or so you thought.

You carefully pulled out your notepad, along with a pencil and a pen, glancing up to see who was on the field.

You began writing down what you observed.

Lacrosse practice:

Nolan - a human, extreme anxiety, always looks scared, how did he make the team??

Gabe - a human, overly confident, overall a douche that I will probably punch in the face someday

Liam - a werewolf; specifically a Beta, Scott’s Beta, has anger issues (extreme) but also slight confidence, seems cautious of his surroundings..

You glanced up, setting your pencil down, before pulling out ear plugs, you had to do this otherwise it would be a dead giveaway of what you were.

You cautiously put them in your ears, before grabbing your pen and clicking the button, causing a noise that only supernatural creatures could hear.

You watched as Liam covered his ears, his eyes shutting tightly as he stood on the field, causing some of his teammates to look at him weirdly.

Lacrosse Practice:

Liam - I did the test, the pen I created sends on a high pitched noise only supernatural beings could hear, and Liam reacted just like I knew he would, therefore, it was a success.

You ended your sentence, only to look up to see Theo holding his ears, his eyes scrunched together in what seemed to be pain and anger.

You noticed Mason sitting beside him, trying to figure out what going on, that is until he made eye contact with you.

You quickly broke his gaze, clicking your pen once more, causing the sound to stop, you instantly gathered your belongings, taking the ear plugs out of your ears before rushing off into the school.

You did what Gerard wanted, you just hoped that it was worth it like he said it was.

“What the hell happened out there?” Liam shouted as he ran up to Theo and Mason, the rest of the teammates exiting the field.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure as hell going to find out.” Theo growled, clenching his fists, looking around to see where you had gone, he had heard your voice, he knew it had to of been you.

“I-I think I know what happened.” Mason interrupted, causing both of them to look at him, their eyebrows raised.

“I think it was Y/N, I noticed she was writing down something, and when she clicked her pen, you both reacted to it, it was as if she was testing you guys.” Mason explained, as Theo and Liam looked at each other.

“We have to tell Scott, I didn’t know she was apart of Gerard’s army, who knows what she actually did to us.” Liam vented, as Theo rolled his eyes, while Mason stood there thinking.

As Liam went off to get rid of his gear, Theo called Scott, letting him know what had happened, needless to say Scott was shocked, he wasn’t expecting an attack to happen so openly.

And neither was Nolan or Gabe.

The next day was unusual, you felt more confident, having a hidden identity and being apart of a group with so much power made you feel invincible.

You were currently in the library, writing a paper for your English class when you felt a hand grab your arm, tugging you to a place between the book shelves.

“You have some nerve doing what you did the other day.” Gabe scolded, glaring down at your small figure as Nolan stood beside him.

“You can’t just go out and test people without letting others know first.” Nolan added in, making you roll your eyes.

“I had a job, I did my job, that’s it.” You replied, yanking your arm out of Gabe’s grasp, sending him a glare.

“Just don’t do it again or we’ll have trouble.” Gabe threatened, which only made you laugh in response.

“Last I checked, you and Nolan and that other kid were going around the school, literally stabbing people in the hand to see if they’d heal faster, so don’t you even dare try to control me and my actions, got it?” You spat, watching Gabe and Nolan swallow nervously.

“And if you ever man handle me ever again, I promise I will break your arm.” You threatened, before giving a smile and returning to your table to finish your English paper.

However, without being seen from other students you pulled out your notepad, grabbing your pencil before jotting a few notes down.

Library:

Gabe - thinks he can control everyone, almost got a broken arm because he’s a douche

Nolan - is a literal lost puppy what

Theo - is a part of Scott’s pack??? I think?? reacted to the pen, got super pissed though

You then went back to your paper, not noticing Liam and Mason watching you from afar.

“Are you guys almost here?” You heard someone talk through the phone, but you couldn’t place the voice.

“Yeah, were five minutes away, be ready.” The voice on the other end spoke, making your eyes snap open, but all you could see was black.

Where were you?

Scratch that, who the hell was with you?

You tried to move your hands, but you felt them cuffed, making you groan in annoyance.

“Whoever the fuck you are I swear to god I will kill you!” You yelled, startling Theo and Liam in the front seats.

Yes, these two idiots had kidnapped you.

They both looked back at you, seeing you fighting the handcuffs, before looking back at each other with concerned expressions.

You soon felt the car stop moving, and before you knew it you were being taken out of the car, hands on both of your arms as they lead you to your destination.

You then were seated on a chair, voices filling the room as you sat there impatiently.

“Guys, this is nice and all but can I please have this sack taken off my head?” You questioned, before feeling the fabric being released from your head, only to be met with Scott’s pack.

You glanced around the room, before leaning back against the chair, a small smirk on your lips.

“I already don’t like this.” Stiles complained, as Lydia swatted at his arm.

“Y/N, I’m sorry we had to meet like this.” Scott started, but you only laughed in response.

“Yeah right, like I really believe that?” You shook your head in disbelief, laughing once again.

“Also, which two of you morons kidnapped me?” You raised an eyebrow, watching as they all exchanged glances.

“Why do you want to know?” Liam questioned, locking eye contact with you.

“Oh you know, so I know which one of you to murder first!” You yelled, instantly standing up, kicking the chair out from under you, breaking free of your cuffs.

“Shit, someone get her!” Stiles screeched, grabbing Lydia and protecting her in the corner, while Malia and Mason stood behind Scott as him and Theo and Liam tried to catch you.

You on the other hand got ahold of a knife, why they thought taking you to the animal clinic was a good idea was insanely stupid on their part.

“I know it was you two idiots, so who wants to die first?” You twirled the metal in your fingers, eyeing up Liam and Theo, who were ready to pounce any second.

“Y/N! Please! We don’t want to hurt you, we just want to talk.” Scott tried to reason with you, but you only laughed in response once again.

Sure, you may be just like them, a supernatural creature, but you had an image you had to keep up, they had to believe you were one of them, a hunter.

“That’s a shame, because all I want to do is hurt you.” You growled, swinging the metal through the air at Theo and Liam, who jumped back, their eyes glowing a bright yellow as their fangs slowly appeared.

“Y/N, either you surrender now or we do this the hard way.” Theo growled, making you smirk.

“Poor Theo, of course you’d want to do it the hard way, that’s all you know how to do, I mean after what you did last year..” You shrugged, the knife in-between your teeth as you smirked, watching his jaw clench.

“Y/N, don’t do this, stop.” Scott warned, watching Theo visibly start to shake in anger.

“And for you Liam, I don’t even know where to begin, with all your anger issues and almost murdering Nolan and Gabe I mean..” You raised your eyebrows, Liam’s body shaking with rage.

“Guys stop this is what Y/N wants.” Lydia screamed, making everyone cover their ears, her voice booming throughout the small clinic.

Theo and Liam both looked at each other, before looking at Scott who nodded in agreement with Lydia.

“That may be right, but I’m not letting her get away.” Theo growled, walking up to you and snatching the knife out of your hands.

“You’re lucky I don’t rip your throat out right here.” Theo threatened, his face close to yours.

You let out a fake gasp, a smirk on your lips as you stared into his eyes.

“Promise you’ll do it later?” You shot back, as you bit your lip, making his eyes darken, before grabbing your arm, setting you back in the chair.

“Alright, now that, that’s over lets get back to what we were going to do to.” Scott looked between you and Theo.

“We know you and Gerard are close, and since you seem to have a good knowledge of his plans, we need you to tell us what he’s up to.” Malia stated bluntly, as Scott covered his face with his hands.

“What she meant to say was you need to give us information.” Stiles shrugged, watching as you just sat there.

“What so now the all mighty hunter can’t speak?” Theo laughed, his arms crossed as he watched you.

You glanced over at him, shooting him a glare, which he gladly gave a smirk back in response.

“You know for someone that is apart of Gerard’s army, you’re supposed to be scared of supernatural creatures, but you.. you aren’t why is that?” Liam questioned, his eyebrow raised, waiting for your response.

“Maybe I’m just good at hiding it.” You responded, keeping your focus straight forward.

You couldn’t possibly give them information, Gerard would know, and you would be compromised.

“Y/N, I know you know information, so why not share it with the rest of us?” Scott pleaded, making you snort in response.

“If I tell you anything he’ll know, and well.. he’ll kill me himself.” You looked up at Scott, letting out a sigh.

“But you’re one of his favorites.” Liam interjected, making you shrug in response.

“If you couldn’t tell, he doesn’t care if people die.” You rolled your eyes, something you couldn’t help but do.

“I noticed.” Theo commented, making you nod in response, your hard shell slowly fading.

“Can’t you tell us anything?” Malia groaned, getting bored of the conversation.

You sat there, thinking for a minute before a idea popped into your head, make it a game.

“What happens to an army when their leader is killed?” You questioned, glancing up at everyone who had bewildered looks on their faces.

“What?” Stiles questioned, looking at Lydia and Malia who shrugged in response.

“How does that have anything to do with this situation?” Liam questioned, as he looked at you.

“It has everything to do with this situation.” You replied, looking at Scott as he tried to think of the answer.

And then it made sense, he understood what you were implying.

“When the leader is killed the whole army falls, and they lose the war.” Scott whispered, as you nodded in response.

“I already knew Gerard wanted to kill me though.” Scott replied in confusion, making you nervously bounce your knee up and down.

You hesitantly moved your eyes over to Liam, then back to Scott, giving him a look.

“Gerard doesn’t just want to kill me, he wants to kill.. Liam..?” Scott spoke aloud, causing everyone to look at him.

“An army loosing their leader results in failure, results in falling, just like an Alpha loosing his first Beta, you will crumble, you will fall, you will lose the war.” You explained, breaking eye contact with everyone, as they stood there stunned.

“So you tested me, on the field, to see what would happen..” Liam started putting the pieces together, as you continued to look down at your shoes.

“We need to get as many people as we can, we’re not loosing, not today.” Scott spoke determinedly, as Lydia, Malia, Mason, and Stiles rushed out of the room.

“Y/N, I’m sorry we kidnapped you, but it was the only way.” Scott apologized, something you knew he did a lot, deep down you knew he was a kind and caring person, he always wanted to save everyone.

“I’m not, she deserved it.” Theo muttered, making your head snap up, your eyes squinting at him.

“Someone has hurt puppy feelings.” You pouted, making his jaw clench once more, before he walked over to you.

“I’d watch that pretty mouth of yours.” He warned, making you smirk in response.

“Aw, you think I’m pretty?” You stood up, getting in his face as he smirked down at you.

“Don’t push your luck sweetheart.” He grinned, resting his hand on your arm, creating a warm feeling, something you weren’t used to.

“Who knew the bad boy Theo Raeken had a soft spot.” You smirked, moving a curl out of his face.

Theo watched you intently as your fingers grazed his skin, something he wasn’t used to feeling.

“Guys, this is gross, go get a room.” Liam groaned, before exiting the room, making you both smirk, quiet laughter filling the room.

You both stood there, studying each other’s features, something that you both never thought you’d be doing.

“You’re different, I can’t put my finger on it yet, but there is something definitely off about you, and I’m going to find out.” Theo spoke determinedly, making you grin.

“Good luck, I’d like to see you try.” You taunted, making his eyes once again darken, before his hand moved to the back of your waist, catching you off guard.

You saw the grin appear on his face, making your heart beat quicker, which you knew he could hear.

“I accept that challenge.”

[afjakwritesarchive]

NWC 25

Aaaaand this concludes my November Writing Challenge! Thank you all for the encouragement and support! I will betaking a small break for a few days to chill before returning in early December to start up the contest/theme month. If you haven’t voted for these things, PLEASE visit this post and then vote!! Now onto the fic: 

Title: Cursed Pairing: USUK Words: 3,854 Rating: T AU: Demon/human Genre: Romance Summary: The Jones family is cursed, but Alfred doesn’t view his demon as much of a problem. This fic is based off of the comic Cursed by the lovely charminglyantiquated, who gave me permission to post this. :) If you haven’t seen the comic or any of their other stuff, I highly recommend you check it out! 

Alfred is seventeen when the demon first visits him. He is older-looking, but not too much—probably in his mid-twenties. He has choppy blond hair, green eyes, pale skin covered in freckles, and some of the thickest eyebrows Alfred has ever seen. He's perched on the edge of Alfred's desk, arms folded across his chest and smirking teasingly at Alfred. He's wearing a green sweater and tan slacks, which Alfred finds odd for a demon, but he doesn't dare say anything.

Instead, he fiddles with the ring on his finger. Each member of his family has one, as every member of his family is similarly affected. The Jones family line had been cursed for as far back as anyone could remember—anyone with Jones blood would be haunted by a demon from their seventeenth birthday on. While no two demons were alike and no other member of the family could see another person's demon, everyone was well aware of them, and everyone seventeen or older wore a ring which protected them from the demon. As long as they wore it, the demon could never touch or physically harm them.

"Hi," Alfred says somewhat nervously, "I'm Alfred."

The man rolls his eyes. "I know who you are, boy." He says in a thickly British-accented voice. "I see they gave me a stupid one. I thought your family was known for their intelligence?"

Alfred smiles, amused by the comment. He'd always had a rather thick skin, and his confidence in himself prevented him from being offended by petty comments. "Guess you drew the short stick, then." He replies with a shrug.

The man frowns grumpily at Alfred. "Anyone who interacts with your family has."

"Yeah, well, whether that's true or not we're stuck together, so. What's your name?" Alfred questions.

The man's thick brows were pulled downward and he fixed Alfred with a dark scowl. "You know, it's not very traditional for us to make idle chit-chat. I'm here to make your life a living hell, you know."

Alfred seems even more amused and grins at the demon, bright blue eyes sparkling. "Geez, you guys really do take this seriously. My family told me you guys weren't nice, but I didn't think you were really gonna make my life hell."

"Well, it's your family's fault some witch decided to curse your ancestors. Now a demon is randomly selected every time one of you idiots turns sixteen. You would think your family would simply stop reproducing, but apparently the primal urges of your nature far outweigh the emotional toll it takes on your offspring." The man scowls.

"Hey, man, you won't have to worry about that with me. Trust me, I wouldn't ever subject a kid to the sight of eyebrows like that." Alfred teases, grinning at the man in front of him.

The demon pauses a moment, seeming surprised by Alfred's response. Then, his face turns red with anger and embarrassment and he snatches a pencil cup off of Alfred's desk, throwing them in the American's direction.

Alfred watches the pencils and their container hit the wall and then fall to the floor, scattering around him. A few bounce off the floor, a pink mechanical pencil landing on his foot. He looks up at the man, blue eyes searching his face for a moment. Then, he shrugs his shoulders and flops down upon his bed.

"So, tell me about yourself," Alfred says breezily, propping his head up on his elbow and grinning at the demon.

The demon slumps back against Alfred's desk looking exasperated. "Christ, I hope you die quickly." He huffs.

Alfred laughs.

The demon throws a notebook at the wall above his head.

The demon follows Alfred most places he goes (aside from the bathroom and the shower). They fall into a simple routine; the demon tries his hardest to make Alfred's life a living Hell and, despite his "demon" label, fails. It quickly becomes clear that this particular demon isn't all too interested in the idea of hurting Alfred, and while he clearly dislikes the man, he rarely does more than cause minor inconveniences in Alfred's life, which the American takes in stride and often taunts him for.

A year passes this way. For the most part, the demon doesn't speak to Alfred, despite the American's frequent attempts to speak to him. Alfred tries to make conversation several times each day and is consistently shot down by the demon. Even so, every day Alfred begins by asking him how he slept. Then, he leaves breakfast out for the demon—they don't need to eat and Alfred knows this, but the Brit eats it every day despite claiming his indifference toward the meal. Afterward, he heads to school for the day; he's eighteen and a senior. From there, it's home to change, and then to his minimum wage job at a fast food restaurant. Finally, he reheats whatever dinner his mother makes for him and his demon, and the demon listens as Alfred recounts his day, often making snarky commentary regarding Alfred's intelligence (or lack thereof), or whatever else he can think to insult at the time.

It's after a particularly draining day when Alfred is laying in bed, his dinner cold and untouched on the nightstand, that the demon speaks first.

"Your food is getting cold." He says, scooping the peas off his plate and into his mouth afterward.

Alfred doesn't look at him. "I'm not hungry." He mumbles, his voice tired.

The demon frowns. "You're never not hungry." He argues, thick brows furrowed.

"Yeah, well, I'm not hungry right now."

The demon stands up and moves to stand by Alfred's bed, peering down at the American with a disapproving frown. "What's wrong with you today?" He huffs.

Alfred stares up at the demon, his eyes tired. The demon has never seen him looking so upset before, and it awakens a painful pang in his chest. He ignores it and kicks at one of the American's bedposts, attempting to get a response from the man.

"What the hell do you care?" Alfred snaps in response, glaring up at the man. "Just leave me the fuck alone for once, okay? God. My life was hell even without your help today, so give it a fucking rest."

The demon falters, looking guilty. He closes his mouth and sits on the edge of the bed. "What happened?"

Alfred turns his head and looks at him. "Seriously, dude, why do you care?"

The demon flushes. "I don't!"

Alfred perks up, staring at him with interest. He seems to know that the demon cares more than he lets on, and decides to try his luck. "Tell me your name."

"What?" The demon is looking at him like he's crazy.

"C'mon. I've known you for a year now and I don't know your name. That's ridiculous."

"How do you know I have one?"

Alfred pauses then, seeming somewhat surprised. "Truth be told, I hadn't thought of that. I guess I just assumed you'd been human once since you have a human appearance."

The demon eyes him warily. "Well, your logic is ridiculous but your intuition is correct. I was a human at one point... And my name was Arthur Kirkland."

Alfred practically shoots into a sitting position, leaning forward with interest. His golden hair is falling into his face and he's beaming, his smile brighter than the sun itself. His bright blue eyes are wide with surprise and they sparkle wonderfully. Very suddenly, the demon is struck with the beauty the young man possesses.

"Dude, holy shit! Did you really just tell me your name?!" Alfred cries, astonished.

Arthur's face flushes. "Y-You asked for it, you dolt! Besides, you've been pestering me day and night for it—I was sick of your foolish antics, that's all! D-Don't think it had anything to do with wanting to cheer you up, because that is the absolute last thing on my mind!"

Alfred is laughing now, his head thrown back as lovely bouts of laughter escape him. "Haha, okaaaay, Artie!"

"Sh-Shut up, you arse! I swear, if you weren't wearing that ring I'd throttle you—!" Arthur huffs, cursing himself for the redness spread across his pale cheeks.

From there, friendship comes easy. Alfred is relentlessly persistent, and manages to coax more and more information from Arthur each day. Within six months, the pair are familiar with each other; they've recounted their childhoods to the other, spoke of their friends and acquaintances, and gotten to know the basics of the other person.

Arthur explains his capabilities to Alfred; it is required that he spends at least twelve hours with Alfred per day according to the curse, and Alfred must be awake for at least five of these hours. Other than that, though, he is free to roam the Earth as he pleases, however no one can see, hear, or feel him. He also has the option to return to Hell to visit, and he tells Alfred that this is where he spends most of his time. He tells Alfred of his few friends, speaking particularly of a demon named Francis whom he is particularly close with (though Arthur claims to hate the "obnoxious French frog" with a passion).

Another six months passes, and Alfred considers Arthur to be his friend.

His family doesn't approve. They think Arthur is fooling Alfred somehow; his mother warns him that Arthur could be tricking him in order to make him remove his ring. His father tells him that demons will do anything to harm members of the Jones family, including emotional manipulation. His half-brother, Matthew, does not mention the shortcomings of the Jones' demons. Instead, he tells Alfred that it is important that he trust himself above all others, and make the right decision, no matter what anyone else says. He encourages the American to exercise caution, but reminds him that he is the only one on Earth who truly knows Arthur, and therefore the only one who can judge what is wrong and right regarding their relationship.

Alfred heeds his brother's words and remains wary of Arthur despite his growing affection for the man. Another six months of casual friendship fly by and he's nineteen, living in an apartment in a city two hours from home with a part-time enrollment at a cheap local college and a full-time job as a data entry worker for a law firm.

There is less to distract Alfred and Arthur from each other now. Because Alfred lives alone, they spend most of their time together. Alfred becomes accustomed to cooking enough for two, and they take turns watching TV. They start a list of movies they both want to see, and once a week Alfred rents one off the list for them to watch together. Arthur feeds Alfred's cat, Hero, and tends to the plants Alfred purchased for him. When the American is too tired from work and school, Arthur tidies up the apartment for him. Alfred even buys a futon for Arthur when the Brit mentions the awkwardness of staying up all night while he sleeps and gives the spare room to Arthur.

They go shopping together, Arthur picking out what he wants and Alfred adding it to the cart. Sometimes, Alfred gets takeout for two and brings it back to the apartment. On Alfred's twentieth birthday, Arthur attempts to bake a cake and almost starts a fire in the apartment.

Their relationship has moved from tense, to strained, to easy, to happy. Alfred's family thinks he's crazy, but he swears his demon is amazing. He tells his brother that Arthur is less a curse and more a blessing. Arthur's visits to Hell become infrequent; even in the time he isn't required to be with Alfred, he spends most of his days in the apartment which both he and Alfred refer to as "home." When he does visit Hell to visit Francis, he speaks mostly of Alfred.

Alfred still doesn't take his ring off. Neither he nor Arthur acknowledge the barrier between them, despite their awareness of it. Arthur doesn't ask why Alfred doesn't trust him; he knows why. No matter how close they grow, Arthur is still a demon, and his primary mission in life had once been to make Alfred's life miserable. While they both know that is no longer the case, the ring remains settled upon Alfred's finger.

Arthur resents that ring. The more time he spends with Alfred, the more he craves Alfred's touch. The more he wishes he could run his hands through Alfred's hair, down his body. He wants to explore Alfred's gorgeous form; cup Alfred's face in his hands, run his palms down the American's muscular chest... He wants Alfred to touch him, too; to take him into his arms and kiss him roughly, hold him tight. He wants to kiss every inch of Alfred's body, and he wants Alfred to do the same. He wants to feel Alfred everywhere, wants to feel the American pressing into him, ravishing him. Yes, he resents that ring.

Unbeknownst to him, Alfred resents the ring, too.

Alfred tells Arthur he's been invited to Matthew's birthday party. He invites Arthur along, but Arthur declines; large parties have never been his forte, especially those where no one can see, feel, or hear him aside from Alfred. He's perched on the living room couch with Hero in his lap when Alfred leaves, and he's still there when he hears the doorknob twisting.

He can hear Alfred outside humming something while he fumbles with his keys, so Arthur gently pushes Hero from his lap and goes to the door, opening it for Alfred.

At the sight of him, Alfred beams and stumbles into the apartment. Arthur shuts the door behind him and raises a brow as Alfred staggers toward the couch, leaning against the back of it. He grins at Arthur, his smile dopey and his eyes glossy.

"Hi, Artie," Alfred slurs, smiling at the Brit as if he knows a secret.

"Hello, Alfred. How was the party?" Arthur asks, humored by the blond's demeanor.

Alfred giggles as if Arthur has said something funny and nods his head rapidly. "Ooooooh it was pretty fun, Artie. Pretty damn fun if you ask me. Had a lotta drinks."

Arthur can't stifle the chuckle that erupts at the younger's statement. "Yes, I'm well aware of that, love. How much did you drink?"

"Does it matter?" Alfred asked before standing up.

He staggers toward Arthur and reaches out, as if wanting to cup the Brit's face. Of course, his hand slips through Arthur; the Brit stares, bewildered, as Alfred waves his hand around in the space where Arthur's face should be and shakes his head.

"What are you doing?" Arthur asks, feigning a teasing smirk despite the horrid pang in his chest that reminds him that he'll never have the pleasure of feeling Alfred's touch. He's sure those hands are warm and strong, and begins to speak once more to distract himself from imagining the feeling of Alfred's arms around him. "You know we can't touch each other, love."

"Yeah, we fucking can," Alfred growls out, looking annoyed. "I wanna touch you, Arthur. D'you wanna touch me too?"

Arthur stares at him, incredulous. Deciding Alfred is too drunk to remember it the next day, he nods. "Yes, I want to touch you, Alfred." He answers, his throat constricting painfully as he says it.

"Then fucking touch me," Alfred says.

He reaches down, wrenching the ring off of his finger without a hint of hesitation. Arthur's jaw falls open and he gapes at Alfred, but doesn't get the chance to speak before the American has reached out and grabbed his face in his hands and, oh, they're better than Arthur could have ever imagined.

They're calloused and warm and strong and shaky and they wrench his face forward and then the plush lips Arthur had long fantasized about are on his and Alfred is kissing him and it's more than everything he'd ever wanted. Alfred is drunk and sloppy but even so he takes charge of the kiss and Arthur melts in the heat of his passion, hardly able to keep from slumping to the floor with how weak his knees are. Alfred walks him backwards until they hit the wall and Arthur's hands find Alfred's hair, tugging at it.

Alfred rocks his hips against Arthur and Arthur follows in suit, rolling his body forward in order to create friction between them. He moans into the kiss and Alfred pulls away. His hands fall from Arthur's face and he takes Arthur by the wrists, shoving them backward into the wall. He's holding Arthur down and Arthur is breathless, gasping as Alfred's lips latch onto his neck. He's moaning and whimpering Alfred's name, dissolving weakly between the wall and Alfred's body.

Alfred releases one of Arthur's wrists in order to grip the Brit's waist and Arthur takes the opportunity to grab Alfred's belt buckle. It takes longer than it should have to get it done because Alfred can't stop himself from grinding against Arthur, and the Brit only has one free hand. He finally manages to get it undone and leaves it hanging open, unzipping Alfred's jeans. Then, he's got a hand down the front of Alfred's pants and Alfred is moaning and biting down on Arthur's neck, and—

"Um... Al?"

Arthur jolts and Alfred lets out a startled cry as he leaps away from Arthur, stumbling a step. Arthur reaches out and grabs his arm, steadying him before he can fall.

Matthew is standing in the doorway, looking back and forth between Alfred and Arthur. "...Who's this, Al?"

Alfred blinks rapidly. "...You can see him?" He asks, surprised.

Matthew frowns. "Of course I can see him." He replies, confused.

Arthur clears his throat and steps forward. "E-Erm, hello... I'm Arthur Kirkland." He says, flushing from the embarrassment of being caught.

Matthew freezes, eyes bulging. "Arthur Kirkland? As in, Alfred's demon?"

The Brit's face goes even redder, embarrassed. "Er, that would be me, yes."

Matthew glances to Alfred's hand, noting the absence of his ring. "...You didn't kill him." He said simply.

Arthur glances at Alfred. "Ah... No. I didn't kill him."

"Well, that's good. Al has always had good instincts. He said you wouldn't hurt him." Matthew says, nodding approvingly. Then, he glances down to his hands, jolting at the sight of a coat held in his hands. "He forgot his jacket in my car. Um... Do you have him from here, or should I stay?"

"No, I'll, er, I can take care of him if you like." Arthur replies sheepishly, accepting the jacket Matthew hands him.

Alfred grins as he looks between them. "Does this mean you're real now, Artie?" He asks.

Arthur looks to Alfred and then to his brother, shrugging. "I'm not exactly sure. Perhaps we can test it tomorrow when you're sober, love." He suggests, taking Alfred's arm.

Alfred grins dopily at him. "Man, Artie, you're sexy when you're all messed up. 'S like a map of all the places I touched you," he mused, running a hand along Arthur's neck where spots of reddened skin were beginning to appear.

Arthur's cheeks burn red and he gazes pointedly at the floor, far too embarrassed to look Matthew in the eye.

"I'll see myself out," says Alfred's half-brother before leaving the apartment.

"Bye Mattieeeeeeeeeee!" Alfred hollers to his brother as Arthur drags him to his bedroom.

"Ooooh, sweet!" Alfred grins, scooping Arthur up and tossing the Brit easily onto the bed.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Arthur cries, and Alfred pauses in his movements to clamber atop of the man, frowning in confusion. Arthur sighs. "As much as I would love to, Alfred, we shouldn't. I got caught up before, but you're far too drunk." The Brit says.

Alfred stares at him for a moment before a goofy smile takes over his face and he nods, falling down onto the bed beside Arthur. Arthur plucks his spectacles off the bridge of his narrow nose and sets them on the nightstand. Alfred hooks an arm around the Brit's waist and tugs him closer, holding him tightly as he falls asleep.

Alfred wakes to a warm body pressed against his and jolts.

"Shit," he says loudly, cursing himself for the sudden movement as his head begins to throb.

The figure beside him begins to stir and he looks down, only for his jaw to drop. The green eyes he's grown to love flutter open and then land on Alfred. To the American's surprise, Arthur smiles sweetly at him, his eyes full of what Alfred could only describe as blissful happiness and affection.

"...Arthur?" Alfred whispers, shocked at the sight of the man laying beside him. "Holy shit, am I touching you? Is this real?"

Arthur's smile turns into a smirk. "I take it you've dreamt of this, then?" He chuckles.

Alfred pauses. Then, he grins. "Did I take off my ring last night?"

Arthur raises one of his thick brows as if to ask are you really that daft? "Obviously."

"Well, that's pretty fucking cool," Alfred replies, a wide grin splitting across his face. After a moment, he looks down at Arthur with mischief shining in his blue eyes. "Dude, did you put your hand in my pants? Were you gonna give me a handjob right then and there?"

As expected, the Brit's face bloomed a brilliant red color. "Oh, belt up! Y-You were kissing my neck and—"

"And you were so fucking sexy, god damn. It's a little hazy, but I don't think I could ever forget the way you sounded when you moaned my name like that. Damn."

Arthur looked up at him, a small frown coming to his face. "Are you sad that we didn't do anything last night?"

"No. It was nice just to hold you." He murmured gently.

Arthur smiled and laid his palm on Alfred's face, caressing it gently. The American smiled, and Arthur ran his hand across the American's lips, sighing dreamily.

"Alfred?" He asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Alfred grinned. "I love you too, Arthur."

[jordanjaeger]

Chibi Eren Companion

So me and @jagerdernacht were chatting and, as per usual, fan-girling over Eren and somehow we got to talking about what it would be like having a chibi version of Eren as a companion. It was such a cute idea that I thought I’d write about it and well, it’s a bit longer than I thought it would be, but whatever! I had a lot of fun writing this and there is a high possibility that I will be writing a part 2. However, I want to get started on my requests so it will have to wait for now!

When a person wakes up, it’s usually in their bedroom. Or sometimes a person can fall ill or become injured, resulting in them waking up in a hospital room. Or maybe a person had a little too much to drink last night, so they ended up awakening in some place random that they don’t remember how they got there.

No one, however, wakes up to a tiny cartoon character standing atop of their chest with two run down pencils in their hands ready to attack you the moment you moved a muscle.

“Gah!” you screamed as you scrambled back against your bed’s headboard, making the small being tumble over.

You didn’t have time to think about or even plan your reaction to it. So when you woke up to a pair of green eyes staring diligently at you, you couldn’t help but to react involuntarily.

“Ouch!” The small being fell back onto the bedspread, bumping its head against the footboard.

You stared at the mysterious creature as you felt your heart race and nearly jump out of your chest. It looked like some sort of cartoon. Were your eyes playing tricks on you? Were you still asleep? Was this some sort of dream? There was only one way to find out.

Without taking your eyes off of it, you took your fingers and pinched your upper arm, wincing slightly at the pain as you added more pressure. After realizing you were in fact wide awake, you released your arm, ignoring the pain and keeping your eyes on the being.

“Damn it, that hurt,” it grumbled, rubbing its head. Upon noticing your gaze, it immediately jumped to its feet, rushing to find the two pencils it was previously holding.

While watching it search, familiarity hit you. You studied its features, taking note of its short brown hair and big green eyes which every so often darted towards you to keep an eye on your movements. It looked scared, but nonetheless determined to do whatever it had planned to do once you returned from Dream Land.

“E-Eren?” you whispered, mentally confirming that the being looked just like the main protagonist of your favorite Anime, Attack on Titan.

Eren stopped in his tracks after hearing you speak. He seemed to be even more startled by your words rather than your size.

“Ah! It can talk! It must have intelligence!” he cried.

“Huh? Wait, no! I’m not-”

“DIE!” he yelled as he grabbed one of the pencils hidden in the folds of your comforter and threw it at you.

You braced yourself for the impact of the pointy object, which lightly touched base with your forearm and instantly dropped back onto the comforter. Lowering your guard, you picked it up and held it at eye level, then shifted your gaze back to Eren.

“Shit, my attack didn’t work! It’s still alive!” hissed Eren.

With the last remaining pencil left, he sent you one final death glare before charging in your direction. Climbing the mass hills that made up your comforter, he launched for you, his only goal to kill you.

“Hey!” you yelled as your reflexes kicked back in and you held up your guard again.

Somehow, Eren managed to climb up your shirt and to the top of your head, making you squirm in discomfort. It felt like a bug was crawling on you, all the more reason to believe that you weren’t dreaming.

“Die! Die! Die! Die! Die!” Eren repeated his words after every strike to your head, until finally you had had enough.

With a bit of concentration, you reached for him and grabbed him, trapping him inside of your fist.

“Ah! Oh no! Let me go you big ugly titan! Let me go! Let me go!” pleaded Eren as you brought him in front of your face. You watched as he struggled to free himself, unaware of your obvious power over him.

You continued to study him, still dazed at his very existence. How could this even be possible?

“What are you?” you asked him curiously.

Eren shivered in fear at your question.

“If you’re gonna’ eat me, then do it already!” He yelled, ready to accept his fate.

You furrowed your brows at him, then sighed as you slowly got out of bed. You walked over to your desk and sat down, gently releasing him onto the cool surface.

“Y-you, you let me go?” Eren asked.

You nodded.

“Tch, big mistake!” He snarled as his eyes searched for another weapon.

He noticed your cup of writing utensils situated on the far left side of your desk. Recalling where he originally found the pencils from before, he charged for the cup, but you were faster than him. You calmly lifted the cup of utensils up just before he could grab a hold of one.

“Hey! No fair!”

You tilted the cup in your hand, letting the utensils rattle a bit as you rested your chin in the palm of your free hand.

“Life’s not fair, hun,” you replied, a sly smile hinting at your lips.

Eren, still not giving up on his goal, scanned the top of the desk for another weapon. A pencil sharpener lay in one of the cupboards, prompting him to use it as a replacement. Though to his dismay, you casually picked it up, making him fall flat on his face as he dashed for the plastic object.

“You done yet?” You asked him, playfulness dripping from your voice.

Eren growled, frustrated at your attempts to demean him. He tried to look around for more weapons, but was met with an empty desk, with him being the only thing occupying the surface other than your laptop and a box of harmless tissues.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his actions. Whether or not this was a dream, one thing was for sure, Eren was a stubborn brat both in the anime and in real life.

“Listen, you might as well give up.” You placed the cup of utensils back in its original location along with the pencil sharpener. “No matter what you do, I’ll always be one step ahead.”

You folded your arms and leaned on the desk, hovering over Eren as you spoke. You peered down at him, waiting to see what he would have to say next.

“Tch,” Eren clicked his tongue, looking away. He, too crossed his arms over his chest, contemplating a plan B.

“How did you get here?” you asked him.

Silence was your answer.

“Oh, I get it. The silent treatment huh?” You leaned in closer to Eren, who continued to ignore your presence.

Only the faint growls of a particularly hungry boy filled the air, making you smirk at the light bulb that now shone brightly over your head.

“Well, suit yourself,” you shrugged. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.”

You placed your hands on the desk and stood up. Walking over to the small mini fridge in your room, you opened it and debated between a selection of fruits, ultimately pulling out a container of strawberries.

As you returned back to your seat at the desk, you noticed Eren had completely turned to face the wall, but this only provoked you even more.

“Mmm, so good!” You stated as you popped one of the sweet berries into your mouth.

Any other time you would have just grabbed whatever fruit your fingers touched first, then crawled back into bed while reading a book or watching Netflix. But this time you made sure to pick the sweetest fruit you had, certain that it would win over Eren. After all, he was always known in the anime for having a sweet tooth. Now was the time to put it to the test.

“Damn it,” muttered Eren as he clenched his stomach which continued to make whale sounds.

“What’s wrong, Eren? Hungry?” You asked in a rather obvious tone.

“Shut up!” He snapped, making you snicker even more.

“Oh don’t be that way. Here, have a strawberry.” You broke a small piece off of the fruit and handed it to Eren, who only looked at it and turned away.

“Stop being so stubborn. If you don’t eat, you’ll starve,” you warned him.

“You must not be that intelligent if you think I’m going to trust you, you stupid titan!” Eren spat.

“Come on now. If I was a real titan, don’t you think I’d be more interested in eating you than these berries?”

Silence was your answer once again. Now you were starting to grow annoyed, until Eren’s stomach growled for the second time.

“Eren, you need to eat.”

Eren looked back at the fruit you were holding, wondering if he should trust you. Either way, if he didn’t eat soon, he would surely pass out. So he didn’t have much of a choice. And with that observation, Eren decided to take a chance and accept your offering, making you smile in relief.

He quickly ran away from your hand to distance himself, then began to nom on the juicy sweetness that was the strawberry.

Oh my god.. this is the cutest thing I’ve seen in my entire fucking life you thought to yourself, wanting to get a picture but not daring to disturb him.

“Good?” You asked with a smile.

Eren shifted his eyes at you, remains of strawberry smeared across his face. Your smile simply widened at his cuteness, causing Eren to blush and look away.

“It’s alright,” he said lowly, but you knew he was just acting.

“You’ve got a little something..” you pointed your finger to your own mouth to indicate to Eren that he had leftover strawberry on his face. Unfortunately, he didn’t catch the clue, so instead, you took the liberty of cleaning him up yourself by grabbing a tissue from the tissue box on your desk and wiping his face for him.

“Hey! What the!” Eren protested.

“Oh calm down, I’m just cleaning you up. You’re a mess,” you assured him, making his blush spread to his ears.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed but secretly grateful.

In response you smiled, but just as soon as you did, a wave of dread came over you as you realized how much time passed by. Quickly, you arose from your seat and walked over to your nightstand to look at your phone.

“Oh crap! I’m gonna’ be late for school!” you cried.

Without a second thought, you darted towards your closet to pull out your school uniform. You didn’t even realize Eren still sitting on the desk, utterly confused. And when he saw you throw off your pajama top, he nearly fainted.

“Gah! I’m sorry!” He exclaimed as he turned away, the red in his face deepening in tint.

“Huh?” You questioned, puzzled by his words. Then it registered that you were half naked.

“Ah!” You gasped and slammed the closet door shut to finish changing in privacy, your cheeks now rosy.

After nearly five minutes of running back and forth in your room, you were finally ready to head out of the door. Slugging your bag around your shoulder and slipping on your shoes, you reached for the doorknob.

“Wait!” said Eren, reminding you yet again that he was there. You turned to look back at him. He looked distressed.

“What is it? I’m going to be late!”

Eren hesitated for a moment.

“What about me?” he asked sheepishly, making you raise an eyebrow.

“What about you? I can’t bring you with me,” you said.

Eren furrowed his brows and balled his fists.

“Why not?!” he shouted.

“W-well, because..,” your words trailed off. He had a point. Why couldn’t you bring him with you? After all, he was small enough to fit in your bag. As long as he kept his mouth shut, no one would ever know.

“I don’t want to stay here all by myself!” Eren folded his arms across his chest, tears threatening to spill, but he blinked them away to hide them.

Fuck, how can I say no to that? He’s so damn cute you thought defeatedly.

“Fine,” you agreed, walking over to him. “But you have to keep quiet. No one can know about you. Got it?”

You lowered your hand to him so that he could climb aboard. Eren nodded, excitement sparkling in his big green orbs. You felt a warm and fuzzy feeling develop in the pit of your stomach, satisfied for earning the small being’s trust. You unzipped the smallest compartment on the front of your bag and gently placed Eren inside. Then, you held one finger to your lips. In return, he made a zipper motion across his own lips and pretended to lock it, handing you the imaginary key. You wanted to cry, you wanted to say to hell with school and spend the rest of your day with him, but instead, you took the imaginary key and smiled, then rushed out of your room to catch the buss.

[spidey-michelle]

I Like Me Better When Im With You {spideychelle}

Synopsis: Michelle ignores her boyfriend peter for two weeks because of Liz returning to town , but peter finds her crying in the hallway during her last period when she should be enjoying her favorite class. 

------///-- 

tap tap tap 

Was all Peter heard in his mind . The constant sound of the cap of his pen hitting his notebook. His mind was too busy occupied with worrying for Michelle , his girlfriend . She’d been ignoring him for almost two weeks now , and it was affecting him greatly . His thoughts were always now clouded with her smile , her laugh , her snarky smart-ass attitude that he missed so much . Now , it was even interfering with his Spider-Man life , even if he’d get his mind under control , she always nagged him in the back of the head . Distracting Peter during his fights , was something that was unexpected and alarming . But , right now , in his English class , he was putting on the best optimistic attitude and not check the clock every 5 seconds . 

he was thankful it was his last class of the day 

Michelle didn’t know what to do with herself , she felt like she was tearing her mind apart . She was leaning against the door of the girls’ bathroom trying to stay calm , before she actually went insane . For the first time ever , she had skipped class . It was consuming every ounce in her body , not to run up to peter and explain how she was feeling . But she couldn’t , being the awkward shell of a girl , she’d always been , it scared Michelle into the introvert she grew up being . If you give her a political topic and a mic , she would go on for hours about the many reasons of her passionate thoughts . But emotions , simply weren’t her thing at all . Gosh , it took her a week after Peter first kissed her , to finally admit her feelings to him . That was just awkward for the both of them if she was being honest . 

  Liz Allen was coming back into town , after a year of being in Oregon . Michelle walked to the sink , and just set her hands on the counter and examined herself. Michelle thought back to the times where she actually talked to Liz , and began comparing herself to the older girl . Which she’d never done before . 

Liz had such beautiful dark straight hair , that just shined in the light , it was the perfect length , past her shoulders and all . Also , that pearly-white smile that most girls probably envied everytime she opened her mouth . She was so nice and caring to everyone she met...

But Michelle stopped herself , she shut her eyes harshly , trying to stop the comparisons that were flooding through her mind at a record speed . Michelle hated the fact that she was letting herself think all of this , she knew how smart she was . She wasn’t the ugliest person in the room , either . But , Peter liked Liz before her . 

She remembers the puppy eyes that would follow the every move of Liz Allen . All coming from Peter Parker . Hell , he was probably in love with her . Michelle opened her eyes , noticing the dampness on her face from multiple tears falling down her face . She wasnt going to allow herself to cry in school , Michelle felt the world around her ultimately fall apart in front of her eyes . So , she gathered whatever strength she had left , as she relied on physical strength over the emotional drainage she’d been going through alone . 

But the irony in her life , only got stronger as the bell rang , the minute she set her hand on the knob . “fuck” mumbled Michelle . Now , she would have to walk through the sea of tired teenagers and get home without drawing any attention to herself . She hoped that Ned could keep Peter occupied for a couple more minutes after his Chemistry class . Peter always waits for him after that class , that was her “after last class” routine with the boy . She was able to calm herself down fully , and wiped any tears off her face with the back of her hoodie sleeve. Michelle decided to mumble words of encouragement to herself , she hated to admit it . But in times like these , she was a changed person . A vulnerable , self cautious , insecure teen 17 year old girl . She despised it . 

Once she heard the rustling of the kids calm down a bit , she stepped out of the bathroom and began the walk to her locker . Luckily , she reached it without a problem and sighed to herself . Her heart felt like it dropped a couple feet , because of the absence of Peter . It was really all her fault , for pushing him away so suddenly , she felt stupid and childish for her actions. 

She regretted opening her locker because a photo of Peter and her was still hanging on the bottom left corner of her locker . Michelle didnt know when it started , but she felt the tears stream down her face in a quiet sob . She tried taking deep breaths to stop herself , which only worked for a few seconds . She grabbed the photo , through blurry eyes , she could still see their smiles printed on the paper . She bit her lip , to choke back a sob from escaping her dry mouth and looked at Peter’s face only once more and threw it in the back of her small locker . She grabbed her backpack that was hanging from the door , and shoved a couple more books and pencils in it . But she couldn’t stop crying , it was insane to Michelle , why she couldnt just say how she initially feels about people , or about certain events . She accepted the fact that she was odd a long time ago , but it was all catching up to her now . 

 She was about to wipe another tear from her face for the millionth time , it felt like , when she heard someone next to her . She didn’t even dare to look , because if it was who , she thought it was , she would just collapse in his arms. 

“Are you alright?” the voice asks , and she knew her suspicions were correct , like they always were. She nods her head , hiding half of her face in her locker. She managed to croak out a simple “im doing just fine , Peter”. Her hands held onto the locker door for just any type of support , she needed it . 

“MJ, close the locker...don’t hide from me anymore.” It was a first for Michelle for him to sound so serious about her . Well , that’s what she gets for avoiding her boyfriend for two weeks. Then . she realized how much she was aching to talk to him about her emotional state , and she knew how much of a great listener he was . With shaky hands , she closed her locker , and turned to face Peter. She set her hands at her sides , so he could look at her tear stained face . 

Peter felt like absolute shit , just seeing Michelle with her legs crossed in front of the other , looking almost afraid of looking him in the eyes , was making him feel a certain way he wasnt used to . It broke him inside , he noticed her red face almost instantly . She still had tears barely , passing her cheeks . She looked broken , confused , and just helpless , As a boyfriend , he felt horrible . As a friend , he felt responsible , and as Spider-Man , he wanted to fight someone just to get rid of those feelings . 

Michelle hadn’t looked eyes with Peter , for nearly a minute and she had already wanted to leave . She felt ashamed in a way , for making herself feel like this and had not wanted any help . “im sorry , that iv’e been avoiding you . Peter..” Michelle says softly , great! from experience she knew to start slowly with the confessions and ease her emotions into the conversation , she knew that Peter would have endless questions about . 

Michelle was swaying from her left to her right foot , wanting Peter to answer quicker . “ i could care less about that right now.. i mean- of course i want to know why you put me through this emotional distress , but you crying in front of me , isn’t making me feel good” The next thing she knew , she ran into Peter’s arms and just wanted to stay there forever . Peter immediately hugged back and wrapped both arms tightly around the girl , feeling relieved of finally touching her. He stroked her hair softly , cooing in her left ear , wanting her to stop crying in his arms , he would do anything . Michelle was just so overcome with all possible emotions , and she needed a hug from one of the most important people in her life , and she finally accepted it . 

“ baby , stop crying.. im here now! tell me what’s wrong , just talk to me , i miss hearing that beautiful voice of your’s” Peter , was content with her in his arms but the answers he wanted , weren’t being said and it confused him . 

“ Liz is coming back to town..”he hears her whisper to him , so faintly that he asks her to repeat it again . But , that only causes her to pull away from him , and stand back . 

In a more clear voice she says , “Liz is coming back to town , Peter” 

Peter almost felt the need to shrug because of the mention of his old crush , almost two years ago now . “what’s the big deal?’ Peter says , watching her expressions change . “the big deal is that , i cant compete with someone like her” 

Peter was taken back by her choice of words , and did in fact , step backwards to show emphasis . His MIchelle...was intimidated by Liz? He shook his head and replied “ woah! who said anything about liz , and why are you saying you cant compete with her.... Michelle sighs and says “ Peter , you were in love with the girl.. i watched as you fell for her , you dont know if old feelings will come back. I may not read teen romance novels , but feelings that never get buried , never die” 

----///-- 

there may be a part two so stay tuned. 

[hotarubi-e]

You are, you are, all the wonder in the world

Request: College klance where Keith is like bullied or something in some way gets incredibly hurt and acts like nothing is wrong but it keeps getting worse and worse and Well my boy lance is super worried

Summary: Keith keeps getting hurt. And every time he does he insists the same thing: ‘I’m fine.’ ‘It’s nothing I swear, Lance.’ ‘I can handle this myself.’ But how many times is Lance supposed to accept the lie? Brush off his worries and patch up Keith’s wounds? How many times does he have left before Keith gets so hurt he can never stand back up again?

P.S. I finally discovered how to make words italic after two goddamn years on this website.

The first time, Lance let it drop. Chose to believe Keith’s words and bury his worry, whittle away the time until Keith was willing to talk. He wasn’t badly injured. Lance was safe to wait a while.

‘Hey, Keith? That you, babe? I thought you were gonna be back an hour..-‘ Lance paused, head hanging around the doorframe, eyes popped and mouth drawn wide. ‘-…ago..’

Keith was limping. One foot steady, the other hobbled, he inched his way through the door with a face like thunder and a greeting to match.

‘Don’t ask, not talking,’

‘..Okay,’ Lance sung, spinning his heels to follow Keith’s figure as it passed towards the bathroom. Lance’s eyebrows raised in question as he noticed the backpack usually slung haphazard across Keith’s back, now clutched tight to his chest, protected. ‘Well.. when you get done with whatever emo shit you’re doing in there, I’m ordering pizza,’

Keith’s voice clamoured around the clang of the door in the frame. ‘Not hungry - order without me,’

‘What?! Keith - you’ve been looking forwards to pizza night all week!’

‘Have not.. Still not talking, Lance,’

‘You said - and I quote - ‘I would die before I miss pizza night, these midterms are kicking my ass, and I need the cheesy sustenance to live’,’

A grinding crash echoed from the closed bathroom door, eliciting a yelp from Lance’s lips. Twisting the knob, he pushed into the room, eyes scanning the entrance in search of the source, and found to his horror, Keith splayed out on the floor in a pile of books, muddied beyond all saving or repair.

‘Keith!’ he yelled, down on one knee by his side the moment his shock would allow. ‘Are you alright?!’

Keith, head hung, palm covering his eyes, nodded tersely through the wave of dizziness that that bought him to the ground. ‘I’m.. I’m fine..’ he mumbled through tight lips, righting himself against the toilet seat he had been using as a make-shift tabletop. But Lance’s hands did not leave him, rather clung like a wave, dragging him backwards again. ‘Lance.. honestly, I’m fine, you can let go now,’

‘But -!’ Lance breathed deep, readying himself for the onslaught of defence he knew was coming, but when nothing more than a tired sigh left Keith’s mouth, Lance sank, worry prickling like buds in his gut. ‘..Keith..?’

‘Long day, sorry.. I don’t really have the energy for an argument right now, even one of our usual ones..’

‘Alright, well.. why don’t you just tell me what happened to all your stuff?’ His eyes glanced down at the disarray around them, books and pads all coated in dirt, pages ripped and writing running from the paper in thick, inky rolls. Keith’s hum returned him to reality, and he met his eyes with a worried frown.

’N-nothing.. I just - I tripped, okay?’

But ever fibre of Lance’s body refuted Keith’s account, denying the plausibility of a simple fall. ‘You tripped?’ he asked, voice digging for the grains of truth hiding behind Keith’s eyes. ‘And everything in your bag just happened to fall out in a puddle, and you happened to end up with a limp, and like, hit your head or something?’

Keith’s grumble was ostentatious at best. ‘I didn’t hit my head, I just.. might have gone down a little heavier than I would have liked,’

‘But you are limping, babe, and like it or not, you did end up on the floor,’ but Lance knew a beat beast when he saw one, and the fire in Keith’s eyes was gone. A push was a push, and shove was just as hard, and both would close him off to the world if he dared give Keith either before the spark of life had come back around. And so he let it drop, cast the worry away, and picking up a book from where it sat swimming on the floor, smiled warm and wide.

They spent the rest of the night re-writing notes and whispering words no other would ever hear, Lance content in Keith’s unbound attention that whatever woe had befallen him was nothing more than a one-time deal.

The second time, they lay in bed together, wrapped around themselves in a world private, and wonderful, and all of their own. Missives soft and soothing were spoken into the space between them, careful and quiet under the fading light of day.

At least until Lance, rolling onto his chest with arms held out, rubbed his fingers across Keith’s skin, just below the ribs and to the right. A wince, and a flinch so hard it broke Keith from his grip, paused Lance’s hands, shaking them both from the twilight world they had occupied.

‘Babe? What’s wrong?’ Lance asked, tone tentative and mind flashing, worry sparking like a flame inside his breast. Keith’s face turned away from him, body angling against the bed to shield himself from Lance’s prying eyes.

‘Nothing, Lance - I’m fine,’ he said, but more to the pillow than the body next to him. And Lance again knew better than to push, but fingers brushed the hem of his shirt all the same, pulling it away from the muscles laid flush beneath.

A whistle of air, tight and tense, rang through Lance’s teeth at the bruises he found, coating Keith’s body from sternum to hip, thick and dark, and purple and blue, all mottled together and too painful to see.

‘What-?! Oh my God.. fine my ass, Keith! What the hell happened to you?!’ he demanded, rolling Keith over and onto his back, eyes searching for something to cling to. Something to make the sight of the mess of bruises even just a little bit better. But Keith could give him nothing, no words of comfort, no lie to soothe the ache. Just a small, sad smile and a gentle touch to his face.

‘It’s nothing I can’t handle, baby,’ he told him. ‘nothing a few days won’t sort out,’

‘..How did this even happen?’

‘A couple guys were kicking a ball about on the quad and I walked by at a really bad time. I got booted by it, right in the gut. Knocked me on my ass,’ he laughed, but even he could hear the note of contention, the subtle shake of the lie. For a ball to do such damage to him, to form the bruises in perfect moults, small and round and ever so perfectly placed, like someone had purpose picked the spots to bruise. And he knew without needing to see, that Lance didn’t believe a word.

The third time, Keith came home with a split lip and bloody face, ripe red tendrils of rain running down his chin from where they escaped his nose, swollen and bruised, and plugged with a tissue held in stubborn hands. The third time, Lance swore inside his mind that this was not right, that no matter how clumsy Keith had claimed to have become, no matter how terrible his luck may be, there was no plausible way for that to be an accident.

In a moment he was off the couch, note books and pencils forgotten, his hands wrapping around Keith’s face in such a show of affection that Keith reeled back.

‘Keith, what the fuck?! Who did this to you?!’ he asked, face fallen and voice lilting so dangerously towards tears that Keith could do nothing but stare for the longest time.

‘Lance.. You - you weren’t meant to be home. I-it’s -‘

‘I swear to God, Keith, if you say this is nothing, I’m gonna drop kick you outta this appartment so fast you won’t know what hit you, so just tell me the truth, okay?’

Keith paused, mind whirring as feeble lie after lie swum through his brain, testing themselves against each other for one with the most validity. But nothing made itself known, nothing came to the front as something Lance might believe. And so he sighed, levering himself from Lance’s grip and sinking down into the couch with a weight in his limbs that felt like all the worlds in all of the galaxies were sitting down with him.

‘Lance, you can’t worry about this, baby, I swear I’m fine,’ he told him instead, in lieu of better words more equipped at calming his lover’s heart. ‘It was just.. it was an accident,’

‘Keith.. why are you lying to me? Seriously, what’s going on that’s so bad you can’t talk to me about it?’ It came out as more of a beg than Lance had intended, but it brought a rise of Keith’s head and a look so wounded that Lance thought it might have worked all the same. Might have pulled the truth from his better half’s eyes with nothing more than the sheer desperation of it. But as most hopes, it stayed short lived, as Keith cut himself off and turned away, a thick sniffle of blood slipping into the silence. ‘Keith, please..’

‘I can’t, Lance! I just..- can’t, okay..? Look, my face really hurts, can you just let it drop?’

They spent the remainder of the evening alone, each swallowed up in their independent thoughts, nothing but awkward, half angry moments shared between them.

The fourth time, Keith was meant to meet Lance for coffee. They had arranged, per Lance’s request, to meet after Keith’s morning lecture and spend the afternoon in each other’s company. But as Lance arrived at the shop and saw with a sinking heart no sign of Keith, he felt the bubbling dread of worry building in his gut.

For ten minutes he sat, back to the wall, eyes on the door, waiting for Keith with his phone in his hand. He had called him twice and texted a dozen more, but every message pinged back to his own phone, Keith’s answer machine message the only sound connecting from the other end. He might have turned it off, stowed it away quietly for his class, but Lance had never known him do that before, and the pointlessness the new habit struck him as odd.

But if he hadn’t turned it off, then why was there no reply? Why did not even a single message make it through? The thought spurred in him movement, and with a restless jerk he stood, coffee forgotten.

Keith’s lecture hall was across the quad, and it took Lance less than five minutes getting there, sparking yet another burst of anxious energy within him. He was nearing twenty minutes late when only five away - what could have happened to delay him so? He brushed the thought away, praying there would be no need for worry when Keith would surely be okay. He was strong and capable, a temper like a storm brewing beneath the surface of the calm outer shell. Nothing could endanger him enough to warrant the fear spreading like a plague through Lance..

A quick examination of the building proved it empty - all lectures had ended at twelve, and no others scheduled till one, so with a shake of his head and a clench of his fists, he stepped out to the street and cast an eye across the green. He searched for a mullet, dark black and mussed in all the right ways. But, killing the hope he hadn’t realised was welling in his heart, he saw nothing, not a damn thing. No Keith, no nothing, not a single sign of the man he loved.

Another phone call proved yet again fruitless, until with a sinking thought he chose to check the alley hiding behind the hall, feet carrying him like lead, only stopping at the sight of a bundle of black slumped in shadow against the wall. A cursory call left his throat, checking - when he did not really want to know - that it was the one he thought, he feared, lay unmoving by the dumpster giving off noxious fumes.

‘Keith!’ His feet took him to his side in a moment, no care given to the state of his knees as he fell heavy and hard to the ground beside him. ‘Oh God.. Keith..’

Keith’s body did not move, no muscles containing the strength to even look up at the sad little sound of his name. A beat passed, and then another before finally he opened his eyes, slow little flutters of his lids, fighting the crack of half dried blood.

‘Baby.. I keep asking this, and you’re scaring the goddamned hell out of me - what the fuck happened?’

But once again, and with a well of self hate Keith had never known, he could give no reply. So he simply shook his head, turning his face away with softly closing eyes. It made Lance want to cry, to cry and scream and burn the whole world down, but he pushed it deep, right down to the bottom of his feet, electing to seek revenge another time.

‘..Okay.. Keith, baby, can you stand?’ he whispered, mind weak and heart so heavy he thought it might hold him down. ‘You need a doctor,’

Keith couldn’t stand, they found, when once he was on his feet his body pitched forwards with such intensity it sent him reeling. If it hadn’t been for the wonderfully waiting arms wrapped like pillars of stone around his chest, he feared he might never have returned from the ground again. But there they were - the hands he loved, and they kept him steady all the way back, and for every moment after as his body recovered from just one more half remembered nightmare.

The fifth time - the fifth time, Lance had learned the pattern. Every other week on Wednesday afternoons, Keith would wander in bloodied and bruised, and brushing off any concern Lance could throw his way. The fifth time, Lance lied in order to save him from whatever demons were dancing their way around his head.

He told Keith he was working a shift at the Student Union store until evening, and with a nod and a kiss, bid Keith goodbye as he left for his day. But Lance, rather than walk to work and the relative safety of the denial he so wished to remain hidden within, followed Keith’s path to the lecture hall across from the quad. And there he stood, cold and guilty for so long he thought he would go numb, until with a hiss of air he watched as Keith once again made his way out onto the street.

And he followed him again, back round into the alley he had found him in two weeks before, eyes not noticing anything except the gentle sway of the bag by his hips. But he stayed back, not wishing to disrupt, to break whatever concentration he could see building under Keith’s skin, the strange, stark stare somehow both full of allure and terrifying at the same time.

It was when the voice broke the silence, foreign and faceless as it was to Lance, that he finally moved his eyes from where they rested on Keith. Only to find a group of four others circling close around his love, hands wound like springs, fingers cracking in tension held tight.

‘If it isn’t little Kogane, back for more, eh?’

‘Who’d have guessed you liked our company this much - maybe you want another makeover, make you look more like a man, after all?’

But above it all, Keith’s voice rose, with a confidence, stoic and strong that Lance had never heard.

‘Why don’t we just get on with this alright? I’ve got shit to do, and every time I see you guys, you waste my time with your stupid talk. Just hit me and get it over with already,’

And Lance was not fast enough to spare Keith the first hit - a knee to the gut so sharp it had him doubled over with a cry - and nor was he fast enough to spare him the second either. His head, grabbed in hands that Lance vowed to break the fingers from one by one, was smashed against the dumpster so hard it left him lain across the floor.

But Lance was fast enough to bring his bag down upon their head, startling the group into a collective run, leaving behind the alley and Lance and silence, as he knelt down next to Keith. The words he wanted to speak were so well worn by then that he didn’t even dare - knew they would get no answer - and so with a gentleness that surprised even him, he rolled Keith onto his side and up onto his own knee.

‘I got you, baby. You’re okay now. Can you talk to me? Are you awake?’

Keith could only give him a nod, and a wide-eyes stare once his lids were working well enough to open under his command.

‘Good. I swear to God, Keith - don’t you dare ever lie to me about this shit again, okay? I can help you.. It’s my job,’

‘…I wanted.. I wanted you to be proud of me…’ they were barely words, the waves of air that Keith sent out for Lance to grasp. But grasp them he did, and spun them around in his mind until confusion clouded his face.

‘What? Keith, what are you talking about?’

‘I didn’t.. I didn’t fight back. I didn’t fight, Lance. You said you hated it when I fight, so I didn’t.. I was brave for once,’

‘Oh, baby..’ the heart that broke and made its way into Lance’s throat was one that he thought he might never see fixed again, but with a gentle kiss placed to Keith’s now bloody forehead, he vowed to do his best all the same. ‘I’m always proud of you, idiot, and you’re always brave, and when you’re better I’m gonna make sure to show you everyday. But honey.. I don’t ever want to see you hurt again, so next time those assholes try something like this, you kick their asses and then send them to me for more, got it?’

Keith’s small nod drew a smile, wry and soft from Lance’s lips.

‘Lance?’ he asked, tucked safely into Lance’s side. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.. but I really do love you, okay?’

‘I know you do - I’ve never questioned that, not even for a minute. And bad communication skills aside, I love you too. More than anything,’

After head scans and five stitches in his forehead, Keith spent the remainder of his night curled into Lance’s warmth, thinking not for the first time that the hands carding through his hair were his favourite thing in all the world.