#or otherwise in a position where im willing to call it by name

[python333]

im in love with your content omg😭 your writing style is just chefs kiss

can i req a reader with the tf141 being on a mission and hearing an enemy say something in british slang and they just go "what did they just say.." in comms? like a reader who doesnt know anything about slang like not even that bars in the uk r called pubs (if im not wrong) and just nods whenever a private talks in slang, and their brain is just trying to figure out what they just said?

its just a really silly plot with a silly reader :3

pardon? — python333

— — — —

synopsis just as the req says, you know nothing about british slang and on a mission the enemy speaks british and you dont know what theyre saying :3

relationships platonic!taskforce 141 & reader.

characters cap. price, soap, ghost, gaz.

word count 2.6k

warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [code name/call sign].

note HI YES I LOVE THIS REQ!! i take every opportunity i can to make fun of british people so this is right up my alley!! tysm for the compliments hjfhdjskf recently ive been getting more praise on my works and it makes me so happy i love yall. again, sorry if this sounds a little rushed or if any parts are incoherent, i wrote this at 12/1am and im both more productive and write more nonsense at this time + this one is wayyyy shorter than ones i usually do because i didnt know what else to write for it so i apologize for that as well! this is pure fluff and humor (i like to think im funny) so enjoy!!

“—eah, and now we have to camp out here ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do it ‘imself, so I feel like we should have a chat with the others, see if they’re willing to leg it out of here with us,” An enemy soldier suggests to you, his British accent thick enough that you think it might be cockney.

You cross your arms to hide your shaking hands and nod in agreement, as if you understood anything he said, and put on the same shitty British accent you’d been using for the past five minutes you’d been talking to this guy.

“Yeah, yeah, totally,” You agree, clearing your throat before asking, “You know where the others are stationed?”

“You don’t?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you suspiciously.

“Mate, all the orders I was given went in one ear and out the other,” You sigh, holding back a wince at your desperate attempt to sound more natural using British slang, “I just know I’ve got to stand out here and shoot the enemy.”

The enemy eyes you suspiciously and he takes a moment to try and read your face before he says, “I don’t think I’ve seen you before, actually. Which would be weird, if we’re in the same platoon, don’t you—” 

You sigh and quickly pull out the small switchblade you had hanging on your belt, stabbing the enemy in the neck before he can say anything else and grabbing him before he can drop to the ground, putting a hand behind his back as you half lead half drag him into a dark alleyway beside the building he was stationed outside of. 

You quickly set him down into a sitting position and take your knife out of his throat, tucking the blade back into the handle before adjusting it to latch onto your belt once again, letting out a frustrated huff as you stare at the now dead man in front of you. 

“[c/n], how copy?” Price’s voice crackles through on your ear piece. 

You push in the PTT button and lower your voice, “Copy, I fucked up a little bit. One of the guys was onto me.”

“You were there for five bloody minutes,” Gaz’s voice rings through, his tone both disbelieving and amused, “How’d he already catch onto you?” 

“The British are smarter than I thought,” You breathe out, standing up and looking around for a ladder to climb to get to higher ground before anyone spots you. You go farther into the alley and find an old, rusty ladder with rungs that look like they’d snap if someone sneezed on them too hard—perfect for climbing up.

You wrinkle your nose as your hand makes contact with one of the rungs but don’t say anything otherwise, instead wordlessly hauling yourself up onto the ladder. 

“Reminder that there’s three British people with you, currently,” Ghost’s deadpan tone crackles, his breathing heavy, as you can tell he’s whispering into his mic, “All of which are very smart.”

“I caught you reading the instructions on a box of tea bags the other day, don’t fuckin’ talk right now,” You grumble, slowly climbing up the ladder, hating the creaking noises it makes as you do. It sounds like it’s going to snap at any minute, and you try to go up as fast as you can, but one wrong move and you’ll easily slip, some of the rust that flakes off of the ladder enough to make you slip up. 

“They were circles,” Ghost says, exasperated, “I didn’t know if that made a difference.” 

“I thought British people were supposed to know everything about tea,” You roll your eyes, putting your hand on the next rusty rung up on the ladder. 

“Yeah, L.t,” Soap agrees with you teasingly, the wind hitting his mic, making it obvious that he’s running, “Thought ye Brits were s’possed to ken everything ‘bout tea.” 

You laugh quietly to yourself as you finally make it to the top of the building, the top just high enough for you to look at the few soldiers below and hear a majority of their conversations without them noticing you.

You get to the edge of the rooftop and pull the sniper rifle you’d been carrying around off of your back, glad to finally be back in your element rather than trying to get in undercover, and set it up. 

You pull the stand out and set it on the edge of the roof, and look through the scope of the rifle, lining it up so that it’s aiming directly at one of the soldier’s heads, specifically the one that was standing directly out of the entrance you originally were meant to try and get into—but doing this didn’t change much.

Regardless of if you got in or not, he would’ve died, and the others would’ve gotten in too. You getting in first was just meant to make it more efficient.

You press down on the PTT button on your earpiece as you look through the scope of your sniper rifle, keeping the aim on the soldier in front of the entrance, “The guy in front of the entrance is just standing still, so whenever you need me to, I can shoot ‘im down.” 

“I don’t think we need to get in just yet,” Price hums, “But maybe in a minute.” “M’kay,” You hum, taking your eye away from the scope, instead just looking over at the enemy soldiers. You lay on your stomach, leaning your head down a bit to try and listen in on the enemy’s conversations easier, trying your best not to make yourself too obvious.

The conversations were pretty boring and almost the same for every soldier you’d eavesdropped on, for the most part. Enemy soldiers joking around, talking about what they’ll do once they’re on leave—like they would be able to do that after you completed your assignment—and just some general team camaraderie.

The lackluster subjects of their conversations weren’t bad at all, no, in fact, you could care less what they talk about. 

It was their stupid accents you hated. 

Are you surrounded by British people everyday? Yes. Does that stop you from hating on the British everyday? No. Okay, maybe the accents aren’t stupid, but God, they had the thickest cockney accents you’d heard in your entire life, and it was making your eavesdropping so much harder, and had almost been the reason you were given away earlier.

They used slang words that you’re certain you’ve never heard before in your life, and used analogies that didn’t even make sense—you heard one of them use the words, verbatim, ‘Don’t get stroppy’. Stroppy? Stroppy? 

You narrow your eyes down at the soldiers below you, listening to a conversation they’d just started up. 

“—eah, ‘cause he can’t be arsed to do anything about it, so now we have to camp out here and wait for somethin’ to happen,” One of the soldiers scoffs, “I’m telling you, man, if I see that skull-masked bloke runnin’ ‘round out here, I’m legging it from ‘im immediately.” 

You draw your eyebrows together in confusion, but you stay silent for now. Isn’t that exactly what the other soldier said? Are they like a hive mind or something?

“You’re legging it?” The other soldier asked, sounding almost incredulous, “What happened to you chattin’ to some of the others about your loyalty and what not?” “All that’s irrelevant when the fuckin’ grim reaper rolls around and starts murkin’ people like he’s been doing for the entirety we’ve been here, mate,” The first soldier laughs, “You think I wanna be here when he does that?” 

“Don’t act like a prat about it, man—fuckin’ talking’ like you can outrun him.” “A prat? I’m not—” You tune out the rest of their argument and instead try and figure out what they were saying.

A prat? Legging it? Can’t be arsed? What the fuck? You push the PTT button on your earpiece and as quietly as you can, you ask, “I need some help. Serious help. Life or death situation.” Immediately, Price’s voice rings through, “What? What is it? What happened?” “The soldiers are British and I can’t tell what they’re saying,” You answer, ignoring Price’s relieved sigh on his end, “I need help.” “Jesus, fuck, don’t scare me like that,” Price sighs, taking a few breaths before continuing, “Alright, what do you need help with?” 

“Figuring out what they’re saying.” This time, you hear Gaz’s voice crackle through, “Well, you’ve got three British people here—tell us what he’s saying.” 

“One of the guys was talking about ‘legging it’ if he saw Ghost heading towards him, and talked about Ghost ‘murking’ people, and then the other guy he was talking to told him he was being a ‘prat’ about it and he got all offended,” You eloquently say into the earpiece, watching as the argument gets a little more heated. You can hear an amused huff from Ghost on his end and a scoff from Soap in return. 

“They’re just saying they’re gonna run away if they see Ghost because he’s been killing a lot of their soldiers, and the other guy said he was being a prat, which I guess is like…” Gaz pauses to think of how to explain the slang term before settling on, “Someone who’s kind of full of themselves, I guess. Or ignorant. Either or.” 

“They couldn’t just say that?” You muse quietly, still staring down at the enemy soldiers. 

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” Price’s voice cuts through, “Go ahead and shoot the guy down. I’m ready to head in.”

“Got it,” You hum, quickly putting your eye back up to your scope and readjusting it a bit before quietly warning, “Shooting him now.” 

You pull the trigger and the enemy goes down immediately, and through your scope you can see the small twitching of his body as the other soldier starts to freak out.

You quickly aim the gun at his still-alive friend and shoot him down as well, silently congratulating yourself on your good aim and continuing to look through the scope, watching as Price runs in with Gaz and a few other soldiers. 

They struggle with the door for a moment and you sigh before pressing in the PTT button on your earpiece and quietly saying, “Price, Gaz, move away from the door for a sec.”

Wordlessly, they do as they’re told, and you take the opportunity to line up the gun’s aim with the complex electronic panel on the outside of the door and pull the trigger, shooting the most crucial part of the panel, causing it’s functions to disrupt and as a result, the doors open. 

“Thanks for that,” Gaz breathes out as Price kicks open the door, his voice cut off a bit at the end as he takes his hand off the PTT button too quickly in order to follow after Price. 

“Uh huh. Of course,” You say offhandedly, taking your eye away from the scope of your sniper rifle and listening to the loud sirens go off in the facility the others break into, and push yourself up so that you can sit up straight to properly watch it. You grunt as you sit up, stretching your arms out for a moment before letting them fall into your lap. 

“Are they in?” Soap asks, curious, his voice a little strained and breathy. There’s no loud gusts of wind coming through his mic anymore, and you look around for a moment, before your eyes catch on to him climbing up a ladder to get to the rooftop adjacent to yours.

Your lips twitch into a smile at the sight of him completely clueless to your presence and you press your PTT button to talk. 

“Yeah, they’re in,” You say, watching as he finally gets to the rooftop, “Didn’t you hear the sirens?” 

You can see Soap’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion for a moment, and he looks around for a moment before finally seeing you on the rooftop directly next to his, and he looks surprised for a moment before a grin splits across his face. You see him press the PTT button on his mic as well. 

“I did, yeah, just wanted tae be sure,” He says into his mic, looking right at you as he does, “It’s a surprise seeing you here.” 

“Imagine how I feel,” You muse, almost to yourself, before looking away from Soap and speaking up, “Ghost, you don’t wanna join us on the rooftops?” 

“Absolutely not,” He replies almost immediately, making you huff out a small laugh and Soap’s grin grow, “I’m perfectly fine on the ground.” 

“Where are you?” You ask, scanning the area around you for Ghost, “I feel like I haven’t seen you this whole time.” 

“I’m just behind the facility,” Ghost hums, voice still a low whisper, “I’m gonna be heading in once Gaz and Price make it to the second floor to clean up the first, in case there’s anyone left.” 

“You’ve been behind the facility this whole time?” Soap’s voice cuts through, surprised by the fact. 

“Mhm,” Ghost hums. 

“It’s a bit boring back there, innit?” Gaz’s voice crackles through, his voice a little breathy, “You can sweep the first floor, by the way. Should be nobody left, though. Pretty sure all the soldiers were just faffing around, not doing much.” 

“Fucking faffing around?” You ask incredulously to yourself, though apparently your voice is loud enough to make Soap chuckle. 

As if he can read your mind, Price’s voice comes through, “Faffing around is just doing nothing or doing nothing particularly productive, [c/n].” 

You sigh and push your PTT button this time, talking into your mic, “You couldn’t just say that, Gaz? You had to say something silly like faffing around?” 

“It’s not silly,” Gaz says, his frown audible, “They were faffing around.” 

“Jesus, fuck,” You breathe out, laughing lightly, “It’s totally silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah it is.”

“No it’s—” 

“I just want one day where you two don’t start up stupid arguments like this,” Price’s tired sigh comes through, “Just one day, I beg of you both.” 

“Aw, Captain, we were just faffing around,” You whine playfully, the misuse of the slang making Soap cover his mouth with his hand to muffle his laughter and you hear Ghost groan into his mic. 

“That is absolutely not how you use that,” Gaz says, though you can hear some laughter in his voice—from your very non-British accent saying British phrases, you presume, a small grin gracing your lips at the thought. 

“It sounded natural to me,” You lie straight through your teeth, shrugging even though only Soap can see you. 

“You’re insufferable,” Gaz groans, making you laugh quietly, “Never use British slang again, please.” 

“What if I get a British accent? Will that fix it?”

“Nothing can fix what you’ve said today, [c/n].”

“Well that’s dramatic,” You scoff, “I’ll learn British just for you guys.” 

“Holy shit, please stop talking,” Price’s exasperated voice interrupts the both of you, “You’re both insufferable. Drop it.” 

“… I don’t think I will,” You say defiantly, making all three British people in the same voice channel as you groan in unison, the sound sounding like some sort of middle school choir trying to sing in harmony, “I’ll use Duolingo or something to learn it.” 

“British isn’t a language you learn, you muppet,” Price grumbles, making you snort. 

“Muppet?” 

“It’s someone who’s dumb and clueless and can’t take a hint, like you,” Ghost defines, “And Soap, most of the time.” 

“Daen’t go draggin’ mae into this,” Soap’s voice quickly cuts through, “I haven’t said onything.” 

“Uh, yes you absolutely did, earlier, remember?” Gaz argues, ignoring Price’s protests for him to stop arguing, “About Ghost being stupid with the tea thing?” 

“Oh, I’ll have you all know—” 

“Ghost, don’t start—” 

You listen as the once casual, teasing conversation turns into an argument and chuckle quietly to yourself, knowing that they’d be arguing about this until you all finished your assignment.

[autisticempathydaemon]

the redacted matches are so cool, thank you for doing them!!

- i dont have a particular lyric for it but ive been really liking cherry wine by grentperez lately

- i dont really know my enneagram type, i think its a 5? not sure though only because i havent looked at it recently enough to know if its still accurate

- my go to way to fall asleep is to listen to redacted videos lol

- when i picked a new name for myself, i chose it because i liked the sound of it (and im pretty sure i subconsciously got it from a candle on my desk)

- my favorite redacted audio would probably be aarons morning audio where smartass is trying to keep him in bed, its very cute and he just sounds so happy

- i dont get the hype for caelum, i can appreciate that other people like him but he’s just never been it for me

- my go to thing to ramble about would absolutely be astrology

- my go to gas station combo would be one of those bottled starbucks drinks and chocolate covered pretzels

- a playlist ive been listening to a lot lately is a spotify generated one called “chill mix”

- i have a few guilty pleasure fantasy romance book series, theyre not very good but i always have a fun time reading them lol

Okay, but the fantasy romance thing is so funny- not funny because those books aren’t fun, we’re among friends here but because Vincent would lovingly, adoringly give you so much shit.

Literally, can you imagine how a charming little dickhead he’d be? He’s constantly insisting that shifters don’t actually have knots, that demons don’t orchestrate deals with the devil and certainly don’t seal them with a kiss. You’d come home, and he’s on the couch, not working, nose in one of your books, telling you that the position being he’s reading isn’t possible, supernatural creature or otherwise, but goddamn he’d be willing to try wink wink nudge nudge.

Also, after that last Vincent audio, the one with the fancy date, he could totally strike me as a chocolate-covered pretzel man. Vincent’s a prince, but he’s also just a dude, and I think he’d be more than happy sitting on that gas station curb, trying to throw snacks into your open mouth.

Song:

I need a man who'll take a chance/ On a love that burns hot enough to last/ So when the night falls/ My lonely heart calls/ Oh, I wanna dance with somebody

As the theoretical youngest of our vampires, Vincent is so literally a boy misplaced in time. I really, inexplicably love this song for him for that reason. Like, a cheesy eighties love ballad that he’d adore covered by a mid 00’s emo band? For some reason, I think he’d love that.

Runner-ups:

Vega, I actually like for you the same reason as Vincent. He would also be incredibly amused by your romance novels but in a much meaner yet still sexy way. Anton, I just think he loves an astrology babe; he adores listening to you talk about signs and constellations and houses even if he doesn’t believe any of it.

Note: I hope you enjoy it, anon 🧡 I actually finally listened to his spicy date audio today before I looked at your entry, so I think it was fate

Want a match-up of your own? Read this post, and tell me about yourself! 💌

[slccpiehead]

owl and eagle

idk if somebody made a post about this already but i just noticed this and found it really interesting.

OWL

"People often allude to the reputation of owls as bearers of supernatural danger when they tell misbehaving children, "the owls will get you", and in most Native American folklore, owls are a symbol of death." link

"According to the Apache and Seminole tribes, hearing owls hooting is considered the subject of numerous "bogeyman" stories told to warn children to remain indoors at night or not to cry too much, otherwise the owl may carry them away." link

(im thinking, in eddie's uncle's story, the owl was victor creel)

"The belief that owls are messengers and harbingers of the dark powers is also found among the Hočągara (Winnebago) of Wisconsin. When in earlier days the Hočągara committed the sin of killing enemies while they were within the sanctuary of the chief's lodge, an owl appeared and spoke to them in the voice of a human, saying, "From now on, the Hočągara will have no luck." This marked the beginning of the decline of their tribe. An owl appeared to Glory of the Morning, the only female chief of the Hočąk nation, and uttered her name. Soon after, she died." link

(well we know what happened after this.. upside-down taking hawkins, Max in coma and Will coming back to Hawkins.)

"When we have these symbols of wisdom as our power animal, we mirror its ability to see through webs of deception." link

(henry deceived all of them except his mom.)

"Owl symbolism can also mean transition and time. This is why you can spot many owl tattoo designs accompanied by objects such as an hourglass or clock clutched in its talons." Link

"Owl spirit animals are symbolic of death in many traditions. In most cases however, it should not be taken literally: If the owl is associated with death, it can be viewed a symbolic death, meaning a transition in life, important changes that are taking place or about to happen." Link

(Ms. Kelley was already suspicious to us when we saw her wearing that clock key necklace so i knew i would find something related to the owl on her too lol)

"In Indian American traditions, the owl is called the Night Eagle. The owl totem has a special connection with the night and the moon,

while the eagle is connected to the sun." Link

(see that picture behind Mike in El's room? yeah... i think that's a picture of an eagle.)

EAGLE

"The eagle brings the message of renewed life because it is associated with the east winds - the direction of spring, dawn and rebirth."

"Eagle people are seen as visionaries, those who are seekers and who are willing to push the limits of self-discovery and personal freedom."

"Eagle totems appear to inspire (push) you to reach higher and become more than you think you are capable of. They tell you to be courageous and really stretch your limits and see what you can do. They bring a sense of courage and a desire to explore and grow. To dream of a flying eagle or one who is perched high signifies good fortune or victory coming your way. If it scares you or attacks you it means there are some self-imposed limitations you need to push through."

"The lesson of the eagle is to take a look from where it sees. You must have the courage to relinquish stale and comfortable habits and beliefs to soar into unknown realms and new realities - continually expanding your view. Now is the time to take full responsibility for your life and be prepared for instant destiny. As your spiritual awareness increases, the positive and negative ramifications will become more immediate and have greater force."

Link

"People with the eagle as their totem animal can struggle to stay grounded. When they lack passion for an undertaking, they often lose interest and move on. Without a clear sense of passion or direction, individuals with this totem can stagnate."

"Additionally, this totem animal can be quick to anger, competitive, and may experience a range of emotions that can only be described as “too much too fast.” When the eagle totem has yet to find their soul mate, they may rush into relationships headlong and find themselves in a pressure cooker of emotions."

"When someone with the eagle totem finds a way to ground theirself, their focus and passion can be indispensable assets. In relationships that are healthy and fulfilling, the eagle totem is loving and attentive and always puts their family first."

"The power of the eagle is vision, perspective, and healing. The eagle is an excellent example of the “bird’s eye view.” From high above, eagles keenly observe the earth below. When we struggle to see outside of our own perspectives, the eagle’s power can teach us that our field of view is narrow."

"With the vision and perspective that the eagle’s keen eye provides, we gain the ability to make fair and logical decisions. Additionally, perspective is an excellent tool for empathy. Understanding the struggle’s of others allows us to heal our peers and ourselves."

Link

anyways, just something to think about lol

[atlabeth]

neighborly things - sokka x fem!reader

summary: reader can’t make things for shit. thankfully, she has a cute and crafty neighbor willing to help her. 

a/n: im so sorry lmao. i have requests and i have 2 series that havent been updated in like a month but sometimes i just need to write a stupid little oneshot to get back in the writing mood. i did this in an hour 

im not a screwdriver expert so dont come at me if some of this info is wrong lmao 

wc: 1.6k 

warning(s): some cursing but otherwise pure fluff. also i didnt proofread im SORRY im pretty sure they laugh grin and smile like 200 times 

-

“Dammit!” 

 Anyone unfortunate enough to have a place near you during this time would have heard the phrase on more than twenty occasions, and it wasn’t even noon yet. You had gotten the parts in the mail to put together a new dresser a couple days ago, and had finally decided to take on the task. You didn’t know if it was because you were inexperienced with furniture or just lacked basic comprehension skills, but it was proving to be no less than Herculean. 

 You threw the screwdriver at the wall and fell back to the floor as you let your arms sprawl out above you. You had been trying to screw in a part for no less than thirty minutes, and if a miracle didn’t happen right about now, you were going to lose your mind. 

Your head snapped towards the door when she heard a knock, and your brows creased. “God?” You muttered as you got up, wondering if you had actually thought a miracle into existence. 

 You weren’t greeted by a deity when you opened the door, but the man standing in front of you was pretty damn close. With ocean blue eyes, hair pulled back in a ponytail with shaved sides, and toned arms, he was a sight to behold. But you had no idea why he was in front of your door. 

 “Hey, are you okay?” He questioned, genuine concern in his tone. 

 “Um, yeah, why?” You were trying to rack your brain for any memory of this guy — because you knew you would remember him if you had seen him before — but to no avail. “Also, who are you and why are you here?”

 “Right,” he chuckled. “My name’s Sokka. I’m your neighbor; I live—” he gestured at the door just next to your place, “—over there. Moved in a couple weeks ago, so that’s probably why you don’t know me. I’ve just been hearing a lot of cursing and loud noises coming from your place, so I figured I would stop in and see what was going on.” 

 “Oh. That’s.. very considerate of you, Sokka. I’m just…” you sighed and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I’m just trying to put together a dresser, and it’s not going well at all. That latest sound you heard was the culmination of my rage. I threw a screwdriver at the wall.” 

 “Yeah, that’ll do it,” he laughed. “Listen. I don’t wanna intrude on you or anything, but I happen to be pretty good at putting things together. I had to do a lot of furniture construction when I first moved in, plus I’m the one all my friends call when they need help with putting anything together. I could probably help you with whatever’s troubling you.”  

 “Are you serious?” 

 “Oh, no. I just go door to door joking around with people, asking if they need help with their furniture, sometimes I ask if their refrigerator is running? It really gets a kick out of them.” 

 You rolled your eyes goodnaturedly and stepped aside so he could enter your apartment. “Thank you so much, Sokka. I’ve read the instructions a million times, I seriously don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” 

 He crouched down and picked up the manual, turning to a dog-eared page and skimming over the instructions. He pointed at the screwdriver you had thrown against the wall and glanced back at you. “Is that the one you’ve been using?” 

 You closed and locked the door behind him then walked over to the wall, picking up the unfortunate victim of your anger and spinning it in your hands. “Yeah, why?” 

 “Do you know what kind it is?” 

 “Um.. maybe? God, I don’t know. I think it’s a Phillip’s head?” 

 Sokka laughed and shook his head, holding up the manual so you could see it. “That’s where you’re going wrong. You need a Pozidriv for these screws — they’re similar enough that anyone can make a mistake.”

 You stared at Sokka in complete amazement — apparently, your savior lived next door, and he came in the form of a handsome guy with basic knowledge on putting furniture together. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you said as you walked over and took the booklet from himl. You flipped through it a couple times and read over the part, shaking your head in disbelief. 

 “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me!” you repeated, louder this time. “Do you know how long I’ve been trying to get that thing to- to work, to screw, to— whatever you call it?” 

 “It’s actually to—”

 “Thirty minutes!” You interrupted, earning a small chuckle from Sokka. “Thirty damn minutes that I have been trying to get that screw in, and it’s all because I was using the wrong screwdriver. Why would they make screwdrivers that are so similar but aren’t interchangeable?!” 

 He shrugged and held up his hands. “Don’t ask me — I don’t make the rules, I just follow them. But like I said; this dresser might fall apart if you keep using this thing. I actually have a Pozidriv back at my place, I can go get it and we can finish this up together.” 

 “God, that would be the biggest help,” you admitted. “But I don’t wanna take up your time — I don’t know how I would even repay you.” 

 “I’m doing this because I want to help you,” he said. “You don’t have to repay me. Think of it as… as a neighborly thing.” 

 “A neighborly thing?” you repeated with a laugh. “Well, if you’re offering, I’m definitely not going to refuse.” 

 “I am offering,” Sokka winked. “And unless you want to be at this for another three days, I think you should take that offer.” 

 You pretended to deliberate over it before letting out an exaggerated sigh. “I guess I’ll let you help me. I mean, really you should be thanking me for this brilliant opportunity to, um.. hone your skills.” 

 He laughed, a brilliant sound that made your heart sing, and nodded as he went back to the door. “Thank you so much for letting me put together this dresser. Truly, it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

 “Then I’m happy to be of assistance.” 

 Sokka grinned then unlocked and opened the door. “I’ll be right back, then we can get started.”

 -

 Once he got back, the two of you got to work. The next three hours passed so quickly as you and Sokka talked about everything from the work you did to people in your lives (no girlfriend, thankfully), to exchanging stories — even the silence, though rare, was comfortable. 

 Sokka pushed the last drawer into its place then clapped his hands as he stood up, admiring the fruits of your labor. “And that’s it! We’re done.”

 “Wait, we’re done? Already?” You set down the instruction manual and stood up as well, backing up to Sokka’s position to see what he saw. “Wow, that looks.. that looks just like the picture. We are good at this! Well, you’re really good at this, I’m good at keeping you entertained. But still!” 

 You held your hand up for a high five and he laughed, but not without meeting it with a satisfying clap. 

 “It does look pretty good,” he admitted. “And not only do you have a brand new, fully functioning dresser, you also had the priceless experience of spending three hours with the neighbor you know nothing about.” 

 “That’s not true,” you countered. “I know that you’re really good at putting things together, you’re a genius when it comes to anything math or science, and you hate blueberries.” 

 Sokka snickered and brushed his hands off on his jeans. “That’s everything there is to know.” 

 “I dunno, Sokka. You seem like a pretty interesting guy.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. It’s not every day that someone offers to put together a whole dresser just because they feel bad.”

 “Well—” he tore off a blank part of the instruction manual and picked up a spare pen from the counter, then put it up against the wall as he scribbled something on it. Sokka put the pen down and handed the slip of paper to you with a smile. “If you ever need any more help with furniture, then call me.” 

 You could feel your cheeks heat up as you took the paper. Your fingers brushed ever so slightly as you took the slip of paper, and you decided to just go for it. You bit back a grin and tried to sound as innocuous as possible. “And if I want to get to know you beyond the blueberries?” 

 Sokka laughed and leaned against the doorframe. “Definitely call me.”  

 “Great.” 

 The two of you smiled at each other like idiots for way too long before a notification from his phone broke the silence. He jumped from the sudden noise and dug his phone out of his pocket, giving you an apologetic look. “Sorry, my sister just texted me and I gotta get over to her place.” Sokka started towards the door then paused and turned around. “I actually had a lot of fun doing this, though. I’ll see you around, yeah?” 

 “Yeah.” You knew you had that same smile on your face, but it just wouldn’t go away. His energy was contagious. “Definitely.” 

 “Great.” He winked at you one last time then left, closing the door behind him, and finally snapping you out of your spell. 

 You leaned against the dresser and stared at the slip of paper in your hands, committing the number to memory. 

 You were definitely going to take him up on that offer. 

-

perm tag list: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin​

[hermitcraftheadcanons]

Hermitopia AU Masterpost 1 [COMPLETE]

This is a gathering place for the events of the Hermitopia AU, as well as art and writing resulting from it (art and writing listed at the bottom). Please read the AU introduction and rules here before submitting! Feel free to join the discussions on the HCHC discord server!

(Disclaimer/PSA: All points are asks contributed by the community, the mods take no credit for the ideas within them)

If you would like specific credit in the masterpost, please sign within the text of the ask! (A dash and a signature at the end should do.) Asks not signed will be treated as anonymous.

Summary posts:

Not all elements of plot and character will be summarized, but here are a few basic things you may want to be familiar with before submitting an ask! (Unless you are purposely aiming to create an [ALTERNATE] idea for a Hermit)

1 - Starting positions and each Hermit's powers (based on the submissions from Day 1)

Summary post 2 - Interpersonal connections (based on Day 1 and 2 submissions)

Make sure to check out the second masterpost here for more up to date information, including newer art and writing!

Asks:

- (copied ask) [summarized mod comment]

- Hermitopia | Scar was experimented on by Cub. He gained dangerous powers and wings that resemble a dragon’s, but he keeps both hidden. Unless someone makes him angry. He has no idea who gave him his powers. Eventually he and Cub decided that they wanted to control things beyond their corporation, so Scar ran for mayor. (there are things to fill in but im lazy) [Scar assumes he got the powers in an accident during research. He enjoys having them but has no idea that they were intentional.]

- Hermitopia AU team ZIT is a superpowered crime-fighting trio!

- owing to a very particular set of guidelines he put in place, Joe can now copy powers if he sees them in use and can reverse-engineer how those powers are used. needless to say, this is massively overpowered in the right hands.but it got worse. at some point, there was an... incident... on ConCorp grounds, something to do with a mass amount of entities causing time dilation -- and Joe was caught in the thick of it, unable to be rescued for a while.the problem is, he got out by piecing together how the time dilation worked.needless to say, Joe... has a ridiculous powerset. so he chooses largely not to use his powers anymore unless it's absolutely dire or petty enough to shrug off as a random occurrence. nobody needs to know that one of the most powerful Unaffiliated in the city is standing right in front of them... especially not ConCorp.

- doc was a former high ranking employee of concorp before he volunteered for an experiment and it went horribly wrong. since then, the company has tried to erase any evidence of his existence. doc is now seeking revenge for all that the company did to him and is determined to tear it apart

- HI ok follow up asks will be sent later when my thoughts are coherent but concept: cleo has like super messed up healing powers where she can make healing go Too Far. also i pin her as unbound, considering, like, everything - shovel-shuffle

- So, his power was meant to be super-regen, right? except things don't always quite go to plan. Someone volunteered for the powers surgeries and is arguably dead. Etho is a name shared by the many many clones that developed themselves out of the leftovers. They're not quite individuals, not quite a hivemind. Any one of them has no fear of death because the others will continue, but they all act independently around their overarching goal. (which I won't snitch about) - DragonKay

- Bdubs was a hero. Key word? Was. He climbed the ranks through the government, he was a loyal and dutiful member of society, and he used his plant manipulation powers to subdue evil-doers without hurting them. But he’s always been a friendly guy, and he couldn’t help himself—talking to the Unrestrained, especially those in custody, was interesting! ...but it’s a slippery slope to walk, being friendly with the enemy and not sympathizing to their cause. Nobody knows where he is now, but there are rumours of a vigilante with similar abilities, and his three compatriots, two of whom he helped escape from ConCorp... They call themselves the nHo. - slimetek [Bdubs deserted Concorp while helping Doc escape after his experiment went wrong]

- Concorp managed to make a device that allows animals to speak or translate their thoughts into writing. This means that the good old mayor Scar has a certain cat giving some advice on how to run the city.

- Iskall is an assasin/mercenary against their own volition. An accident they'd rather forget almost killed them, and in exchange for their freedom and free will they got to live as a cyborg. Though its hard to forget with the implant that covers their eye and the limb of cool metal hanging at their side - @ghastly-ghostie [Iskall works for Concorp off-books, bound by the debt owed to them for the life saving experimental modifications]

- so I think grians original powers could be like cloning, but something goes wrong and the clones are different people. as a result of the duplication process, some funky magic rocks are made. the clones decide to take most of the funky rocks and run off, leaving grian with one rock that gives him some new abilities and the clones' rocks give him others. also uhh mechanical wings bc yes. so grians plot is him trying to find them while also causing problems on purpose. infinity stones. update to my grian ask from earlier, I had better ideas: the rocks are old like magic things that grian finds before the cloning and ends up collecting, but his clones snatch them - simplyskipper [some of the alternate Grians are aligned with different factions in Hermitopia, while the locations of others are farther or unknown]

- Hermitopia- Impulse has solid-light powers. He has golden crystals implanted in his hands, which he can reflect light through to solidify it into all sorts of shapes. This can be used to make barriers, projectiles, and much more, though more detailed constructs take more time.- @mleemwyvern

- Hermitopia AU Poultry man is a well-known chaotic neutral leaning towards good, as a one of the unrestrained.

- I think Team ZIT should be a little be wild card-y, that's how they act after all! [they are employed by the government for standard crimefighting, but they don't always take Scar's word at its intended meaning and often play a bit on the chaotic side when given instructions]

- [Hermitopia AU] False is an antihero/vigilante type who's specialty is not defined by powers or the such, but just... the absolute skill of being able to dual wield two (more sci-fi era) short swords. Maybe someone upgrades them to be "enchanted" (electrical, fire, etc. something that tech could do well probably). She's willing to be paid-for-hire, but if you go past her moral line she's also willin' to backstab you. -- @cheshire-vex [she's a free agent who sort of drifts between Concorp, the government, and whoever else will pay her on a job-by-job basis]

- Hermitopia impulse has more connections then one may think. He has ties to people pretty much everywhere, for reasons unknown. There is a 100% someone will come and greet him wherever he goes. [the greetings are usually friendly]

- Hermitopia Au! Keralis is a hero who most people wouldn't expect to be too skilled at fighting. His power is similar to hypnosis so he has no need to get very physical. Yeah, that changed when some bastard villain decided to attack his friends shop. [that incident caused his employer Scar to realize his untapped potential for protecting people and assign him to a few more high-stakes jobs]

- Hermittopia!TFC was one of ConCorp’s first experiments and as such his powers are a bit less...refined then the others. He has geokinetic powers, allowing him to psychically control rocks and other earthen materials. He used to be one of the VEX programs top graduates, but has since parted ways with them for unknown reasons and now operates his own plans of keep crime in Hermitopia under control. -lechairpourriedegrianri [he is considered Unaffiliated and both Concorp and the government largely leave him to his own devices, since he is helping to keep the city together]

-Wels doesn't have powers. He does have a super-suit made of fire and heat resistant carbon fibre (like the material used for the space shuttle) and has a built in hologram projector. One time, he used the hologram projector to project an image of himself, which everyone thought was a clone. He didn't have the heart to tell them otherwise. (AKA everyone thinks Wels has powers but he doesn't) -Silverwolf53 [he got the suit in Project VEX]

- To follow up on the Impulse ask- Team ZIT are a space-themed superhero team. Government-aligned, at least for now.Tango has meteor-like powers, he can shoot fire from his hands and feet and often uses this to propel himself at high speeds. Zed has gravity powers! He can increase or decrease the density of any object, to the point of making small black holes. They all have space-themed costumes, and it was probably Zed's idea. - @mleemwyvern

- TFC was the first participant in project VEX

- Grian was an attempted success. It fixed some problems with Etho's unintended cloning, but at the same time created some problems of its own, seeing as the clones appeared to have a life of their own.It's fine, though. It's probably fine

- I would say Grian is unrestrained, a bit like Etho, Chaotic in his own way. Does not activily Try to hurt people, but does mostly what he wants for fun.-Ciara

- Xisuma is a civilian- he has hero friends, but despite all their teasing he’s never wanted to go through VEX training. But in the night, the unrestrained Void walks the streets [Void is a symbiotic creature made of nothingness that uses Xisuma's body as a substitute physical form]

- Bdubs was such a good man... he could be trusted to look after Doc, couldn’t he? Somebody had to oversee him, somebody who was reliable and would never, ever consider betraying the mayor and ConCorp...They let their guard down, and Bdubs got curious. Bdubs made a friend.And then they lost him.- Slimetek

- The hels hermits are considered evil by default. How do you spot these clones, how could you protect yourself? Well in the past it was a lot easier, just look for their red eyesNowadays contacts exist but that doesn't stop people trying to call the police on tango, calling him a hels. Hes netherian, they have unnatural eye colours and their iris fills the entire eye, hes not evil but if people keep doing this hes gonna be!

- Beef woke up from his brain surgery to receive telepathy powers, took one look into the mind of the overseer, and noped put of there as fast as he could go.He's on very public record. After all, the mind control he may be capable of is a very convenient explanation for anyone who turns against concorp... ~DragonKay

- Hypno can’t control minds.They say he does. It’s why he’s named Hypno, after all.In reality, he can’t control people like that... but he can control what they see.Your best friend might look like your greatest enemy. A pit of lava might look like solid ground. A 100-foot drop might look like a step down.It’s a good thing he’s a hero, and a good thing he keeps his true powers hidden beneath a guise of low-level hypnotism. There’s no telling what he could do if they let him go. [he works for Concorp, helping to protect VEX trainees from people trying to harm them before they get a chance to finish the program, as well as keeping other resources safe]

- The 9th Street Incident [referring to an earlier Impulse comment] was a friendly greeting. That particular version of Etho just thought that drawing weapons would be a friendly greeting for Impulse, but Tango and Zed seem to disagree

- They still don’t trust Bdubs. He was with the government for a long time, and things are hard out there on the run. Besides, they don’t know what he got up to there. ConCorp could have any sort of information on him, something that might scare him back.Bdubs understands this. He doesn’t want to go back. He’d hate to go back....but they think he will, and maybe there’s something he’s not telling them. An ace that ConCorp has yet to play.- Slimetek

- Mumbo works for concorp as an engineer specialising in robotics, most recently taking on the task of maintaining Iskall's cybernetics that somehow they just keep damaging. Iskall assures him they're just.. very clumsy. So far Mumbo hasn't caught on.

- Ren's power is that hes a werewolf, but he only found out when he was in his late teens with his childhood friend Iskall. He still feels guilty about it, he did kill his best friend afterall. Or so he thinks.He's lived off grid ever since, too overwhelmed with grief and guilt to rejoin society. Most assume he's dead too - @ghastly-ghostie [Ren dropped Iskall off to Concorp as a last ditch effort, running away before he could see whether they took his friend in or not. They did, starting Iskall's plotline. Iskall told Concorp about Ren's abilities, triggering a panic in the Concorp ranks at the fact that Ren is a superhuman being created by some force other than their own project]

- Where does Void come from? The same place all powers come from.Little did they know, something survived the crash and has taken a human host. Maybe it's not the only one...No, that place is not Concorp. Concorp's original goal was to develop technology by reverse-engineering from a crashed alien spaceship. These aliens did gene-editing the way some people do nose jobs, so they adapted that technology, too.~DragonKay

- i've already said a bit about it in the discord but i have hermitopia cleo brainrot. joe being there was able to save her by giving her the regen powers along with her puppeteering telekinesis power. anyways cleo is presumed dead, sent by concorp into a mission as fodder basically until zit could arrive. but now there's is one (1) bitter undead vigilante against concorp that is presumed dead

- Stress’s name has a few meanings in relation to her. Whenever she gets too angry or /stressed/, she transforms into the StressMonster, a monster that feeds off of other people’s stress to become more powerful. Luckily, the monster is rarely seen, but does terrible things when she is. She’s one of the most feared creatures in Hermitopia. Stress hates her and tries her best to hide her from her friends, but it can backfire sometimes. - @guster-animations

- to follow-up on Joe being presumed dead: remember the time dilation incident he was stuck in? ConCorp figured it was best to cut their losses and not try to send anyone in to rescue him -- it would be a pointless mission. so they abandoned him, quietly announced that he had died in the line of duty, and put the affected area under high security clearance in order to prevent any future accidents. they figured he was already dead. and Joe figures, given that they up and abandoned him, maybe it's for the best that they continue to figure just that. he changed his last name to "Hills" -- a joke about the biome containing the time anomaly -- and otherwise proceeded to stay under the radar. he still uses the time dilation area as a base of operations, sometimes; it's very useful to have a hideout that people physically cannot get into/out of without his direct assistance. is he nursing a grudge, coming up with some convoluted scheme to get back at the paramilitary group for abandoning him? or does he just want to live a relatively normal life off the grid? who knows. that's the Joe [REDACTED] Hills difference. -@betweenlands

- False has some big scary power that is almost Eldritch she just happens to prefer a sword and doesn’t really care for who she works for as long as they’re paying... (they don’t need to know of the power that had harmed the ones she loves the most)

- Keralis once encountered Void sulking around where Xisuma worked. So fearful for his friend’s safety, he used his power on Void and told him to go away. Apparently the charm is still active, because if Void spots Keralis anywhere, he’ll turn tail and run. No, it’s not because he’s scared. Absolutely not.

- Grumbot serves as a sentient supercomputer created by Mumbo for Grian. Grian is using Grumbot for... various activities, all of which harmless, but a certain evil clone [Helsknight] has reverse engineered the technology. Concorp would like for Mumbo to give them the tech, but mumbo stuck some eyes to the computer, got emotionally attached, and refuses to give up his baby boy.

- When Impulse hears his friend/colleague Bdubs has been "taken over" by the mind-controller [Beef], he wants to go on an off-the-books mission to rescue him! Just giving up like they were told to isn't in his nature.Of course the rest of ZIT are with him. Heroes save people! It's what they do!~DragonKay

- Hermitopia is a mixture of sleek futuristic and cyberpunk in terms of style. It really depends on where you live and work (ik this doesnt include any hermits but whatever) - @ghastly-ghostie

- I wonder if Cleo's overactive healing powers affect herself and if any injuries she receives immediately heal over like wolverine or deadpool

- Ren used to be friends with Cleo too, but then she died. Strangely enough, she died on the same day that Ren killed Iskall. Ren’s lost all his friends. It’s hard living in isolation when there’s no one left that even cares about you. (Unless— no, that’s impossible.)

- I was thinking about Biffa, like you do. And Biffa would totally be some robot that was created by Project VEX in its early stages, however they realised fast that it was easier to use humans and give them powers, maybe its not their strong suit with robots. But Biff went sentient and glitched and was scrapped so hes just out there doing his thing. Hes a wildcard and plays for which side he wants at the time, sometimes he'll help or sometimes hes the one causing trouble. He looks pretty similar to a android like in Detroit:Become human but hes a bit uncanny and eerie, maybe its the eyes or the blood red armour. Powerwise, he's got more strength than a human does, mainly because he isn't limited like others are. try not to get punched by him, it'll hurt! [He's convinced Concorp will destroy him if they find out he's alive and Unaffiliated] -lucodak

- Going off of my thing about hermotopia impulse having friends everywhere....this may include the nho. Okay, they beat him to a pulp on one of his solo patrols once, but theey felt bad n patched him up! He has to keep it a secret. He brings them dinner alot. And checks in on them.

- Beef is the perfect cover-up for Bdubs’ desertion. ConCorp doesn’t want any other employees getting bright ideas, now, do they? Nor do they want employees getting nosy and trying to figure out where Bdubs went. They don’t have to tell people what Beef’s powers are. They just release that he developed powers after brain surgery, and a rumour that he was spotted lurking around before Bdubs suddenly betrayed ConCorp... and people draw their own conclusions. -Slimetek

- xB is pretty sure he’s supposed to be evil.I mean, that’s what sentient AIs usually end up being, according to a quick internet search. And yet he’s... not. Or maybe he’s just on the wrong side. - Slimetek

- Yes impulse is friends with the nho....what he doesn't know? He's....easily susceptible to hypnosis. Very easily.......Of course, after impulse is basically a very tired n warm cuddle bug, so, cuddle piles tend to happen after all information is spilled. He must've fallen asleep at their apartment again! Whoops! But it's okay.....they take good care of him if he does! [Beef is using his mind reading ability on Impulse without his knowledge, to make sure that he hasn't spilled their location and to predict the government's next moves. He feels slightly bad about it but feels that it is necessary for the nHo's survival.]

- So far, Grian has only ever encountered two of his clones, NPC Grian and Robot Grian. Technically three, if one were to count Ariana Griande. Grian doesn't really, but some do. [Ariana Griande is a popular musician in Hermitopia who is building a career using the magical stone of voice enhancement she recieved through the cloning process]

- To handle the two Grumbot issue: the one working with Helsknight can be Jrumbot, a legion of robot drones meant to work as Grumbot’s physical form that ended up being hijacked by Helsknight and turned against ConCorp

- There...aren’t a lot of “normal” animals left in Hermittopia. ConCorp took one look at the animals populating the city and decided that, hey, they could make some improvements. Species after species, they modified their behavior, appearance, internal structure, whatever they could fix, tweak, or add. They were just improving their lives and the lives of the citizens of Hermittopia, after all, but the new animals quickly outcompeted the old for resources and habitats. And if it makes it easier for ConCorp to stick a camera in one or two of them, or set up robotic animals to keep a better eye on the city, no harm, no foul, right?(Bonus: there is one (1) singular cat left in Hermittopia, resulting in a spy movie-style heist where two teams of Hermits attempt to “rescue” the cat simultaneously. The cat keeps wandering away from both teams. Shenanigans ensue)- Adonis [the cat is Jellie, who orchestrated the competition between Team ZIT and Cleo and Joe for her own entertainment, getting away from both parties in the end]

- The Leak:Not all mutations are the result of controlled experiments! If some alien tech got away from the crash site, concorp never would have picked it up. It might have got into nature, not as refined as they made it in the labs but causing little changes here and there. Ren may have become a werewolf from being bitten by a mutant wolf~DragonKay

- Impulse is able to use his powers to create illusions or male things appear invisible! Sort of. After all, light dictates what we see. It takes a lot of focus, though, so it's not that practical. -@rayveewrites

- The one thing Hels wasn't able to steal was the cloning technology, hence his hostility with Concorp -- he needs the cloning device, because how else is the void going to get a body of their own? - SilverWolf53

- *glances at the hermitopia werewolf ask* okay but what if the same mystery people who made ren into a werewolf also created jevin, and maybe Etho? idk if either of them have been given any hermitopia headcanons yet lol. but im sure the same people who made a werewolf could make a sentient slime (or perhaps rescue one) or make... whatever etho is. [Since the "second organization" is an incorrect assumption believed by Concorp, Jevin was created when he came in contact with a waterway contaminated by The Leak. Concorp assumes he was created by an opposing organization and not by accident, and therefore would like to bring him in along with Ren.]

- hermitopia - mumbo and grian were friends back when cloning experiments were still happening (or . as friendly as you can be with someone who's treating you like a lab rat), but after everything went wrong and grian escaped, mumbo has his memories wiped nd thats why he's trusted w iskall's stuff? bc he inherently remembers working on high-level things without knowing where he learnt it - muscle memory, yk?anyway massive angst with grian maybe recognising mumbo, but not the other way round, and trying to rekindle their friendship? and that's where grumbot comes in? -gin [Mumbo's memory was wiped so that he would forget the deadly purpose of Iskall's cybernetics, which he was working on at the same time as the Grian project in the background. Mumbo does not remember creating Grian's mechanical wings or Iskall's arm and eye, and he has no memory of either individual previous to "meeting" Iskall as the person assigned to his repair and upkeep.]

- Etho doesn't so much have powers as he is powers. All the powers the ‘original’ had went into creating him; now he just exists, as whatever sort of being he is. Not a human one, that much is obvious. ~DragonKay [Etho has no powers beyond the hivemind and his training, due to the error in the experiment that caused the clones]

- Mumbo started the button as a joke. A nonsense social expirement to see how much people want worthless signs of status. Unfortunately things got out of hand, and violent too. But hey! It's not his fault that the five special anomalous stones were misplaced into the prize dispenser! It was just chance that they fell into the hands of the clone of the worst gremlin in the city! Don't fire him! [He was not fired, but Cub was Decidedly Unhappy with him for a good long while]

- Void mostly trashes ConCorp facilities- trying to figure out if any of his siblings survived the spaceship crash, but occasionally he’ll pilfer from a bakery, because X is a health nut and Void just wants a gods damned cookie [Void very much dislikes unseasoned chicken]

- If the Stress Monster gets too big, too dangerous, Cleo is sworn under oath to Stress to zap her with her healing powers. Cleo doesn’t like to do it, overhealing a stressed Stress makes her so calm she gets knocked out for a couple of days, but Stress can take a small comfort in the fact that at least one person out there can stop her

- Ooh with the self healing Cleo she'd be able to develop a small amount of super strength, with how the mind keeps from going full throttle because it would destroy the body once she gets over it it's hysterical strength whenever she wants [it is quite painful, but a good backup plan]

- Being a hive mind of disposable clones that can spawn new copies at will, it can sometimes be hard for the Etho Entity to remember that it is indeed a big deal for other people when they get hurt. This can make him come off as callous to those around him, placing him firmly in the "villain" category in most citizen's books, but he really doesn't intend any harm!

- Grian used to be tall, but then the cloning happened. With each clone they stole a little bit of his height making him the short man he is today. He needs to capture those clones and get his height back. [Grian isn't entirely sure how to accomplish this, but he's dead set on trying! He misses being tall!]

- While Grian was perfectly fine with Ariana Griande living her own life, he did insist on one thing.Her "older brother" getting backstage access whenever she was on tour. He's very proud and supportive of her and her music career.

- Mumbo is perfectly content working in tech, watching the other hermits get up to crazy shenanigans. Except of course, there was that one time he was out testing some new gear and accidentally saved a crowd from some villains... and there were all those times after too...But hey! It’s not his fault that people like him, and he certainly isn’t going to get caught by Concorp during his after hours activities. [Mumbo considers himself an accidental hobbyist, not thinking he has the nerve or the skill for proper hero work. Time will tell if he's right about that or not...but unfortunately, he probably is. This should be fun.]

- There’s still some people overseeing VEX, even over Cub. They’re the ones that push Cub to do certain experiments or to scrap one. They’re the ones to give Cub the decision for Iskall’s life debt. Scar was under them too for the longest time, but eventually he wanted out. Cub still wanted in. They were still in the right, right? That’s what they tell him. He’s starting to doubt it. [Cub is way too invested in everything he's built to even think about going rogue now, but he does resent and occasionally question the judgement of his superiors increasingly as his project begins to fail more and more often. He also fears that Scar's shift in career will be seen as a betrayal, rather than as a tactical attempt to gain the company influence in the government.]

- Been thinking about the impulse + nho asks and just,,, what would happen if concorp/the government found out? It cant be good with interrogation/hypnosis on both sides (incase you cant tell,, the brainrot got me as well) (apologies if this is a mess im excited) [Hypno is assigned to set up an illusionary conversation to make Impulse reveal nHo location to Concorp and government agents while thinking that he's actually talking to the nHo in a random encounter]

- The one mind Beef can't read is Etho's. Their hivemind is just too weird for him to comprehend. If he ever tries to listen in, it sounds like just a bunch of static from an old TV.

- for hermitopia au!: Out of most of the heros, the most reckless may be team zit. sure they tell themselves they'll plan out missions but it's hard when they share a braincell and tango just runs in. impulse and zed share a look everytime and have to run after him to make sure he doesn't get too hurt or overwhelmed by the enemy. in their defence its hard to plan ahead against an enemy when you dont know what they are thinking.-lucodak ["You might not have known what they were thinking, Tango, but we'd generally like you to know what you're thinking!"]

- i bet ConCorp really wants to make it out like theres some secret shady organization creating all these people with mutations, rather than their own operatives deserting and their own failure to contain dangerous chemicals... whether its malicious coverups or just ignorance to the fact they messed up, wonder what would happen if that sort of thing came to light...? [If they found out that the unintentional superhumans were a result of the poorly-contained crash site? Cub would lose his job...maybe worse. If Cub found out (and he hasn't, yet) he would do everything in his power to keep that information from his superiors.]

- (paraphrased) Impulse accidentally walks in on heroes and agents breaking down the doors of the nHo's hideout and confronting them. Scar claims that they did so on information Impulse himself provided and thanks him for his service. Impulse, feeling confused and betrayed, resists Hypno's attempts to illusion him back to Scar's side and flees the scene with the nHo, knowing very little other than the fact that he doesn't want to be manipulated by the government any more (and still not knowing that Beef has been reading his mind)

- Impulse may have been labeled a traitor. But do you really think that Impulse, secret rebel, starting to learn how dangerous and corrupted Concorp really is, wouldn't let his best friends know about the danger they might be in? I think Team ZIT is more loyal to each other than to the government. - @mleemwyvern [ Impulse's first stop after escaping with the nHo is to find a place to secretly meet Tango and Zedaph and tell them about the way he was tricked. It takes a lot of explaining and a lot of trust, but they eventually decide to believe his claims and are left with a choice: will they openly go rogue and become a target along with Impulse and the rest of the nHo, or are they better off using their established image and reputation to keep an eye on the government heros' movements from the inside?]

- (two asks combined, paraphrased) Ren runs out of supplies and decides to head back into the city, confident in his ability to stay off the grid after so many years of experience and such a long time away. Once there, he runs into Doc, and they hit it off quite quickly. However, the more Ren talks the more Doc realizes - with his ex-Concorp knowledge - that Ren matches the description of Iskall's main target exactly. He warns Ren, who is then faced with the knowledge that Iskall is alive and assigned to kill him...so many questions and so many tears to follow...

- Why did Hermitopia start needing heroes? When the Unrestrained started to appear, if course. Why did the Unrestrained start to appear? A question asked a little less. When did the VEX program start? When did they start taking more risks? When did they stop caring about certainty and safety and shift towards trying to push boundaries they weren't ready to? People can be so enamoured with the concept of superhuman abilities, something bright and glorious and good- and perhaps they could have that too- they don't ask all the right questions. It's all an elaborate game of damage control, don't let the flashy heroics fool you, they've made mistakes, terrible, terrible mistakes, and now there are villains running loose with powers they fooled ConCorp into giving them. Are they villains? Are they victims? Does it matter? They're causing problems. [Project VEX has developed into a solution to its own problems, a self perpetuating cycle...one that Cub, as a businessman, is very familiar with. It's what keeps the wheels of industry turning. It's what keeps innovation creeping forward. It wasn't intentional, not this time...but if it keeps his project alive, he'll take it.]

- One time, Jevin had narrowly dodged being captured by Concorp. He was laying low in the forest out of town, when he had a run-in with some sort of wolf creature. Thankfully, claws and teeth couldn't exactly hurt him anymore, so he just played dead until it gave up.When the moon set, the wolf-thing slowly transformed into a human being. Ren was horrified at the thought he'd lost control and hurt someone- again- but Jevin assured him he was fine. Jevin got the feeling that the werewolf needed a friend, and Jevin himself needed a place to stay for a while... -RayveeWrites [Ren and Jevin are not currently in the same location, but they each have a means of contacting each other for help if needed]

- Worm Man wasn't a well- known super, but plenty of people have noticed that he seemed to vanish at the same time Team ZIT first started active duty. Those people have also noticed that one of the members has a very similar power set to WM.Officially, that's just a coincidence. Officially.-RayveeWrites [Zedaph was trying to get some unofficial practice while still in training in the VEX program]

- A common misconception is that Bdubs conjures up his vines from nowhere. He can't.Like any plant, his vines grow from seeds. They grow unnaturally fast, when Bdubs wills it, but they have to come from seeds. Where do these seeds come from, you may ask?Well, a long time ago, Bdubs ingested some strange fruits. Somehow, in wild defiance of human biology, the seeds contained in those fruits worked their way into his muscles and germinated. Some of the roots worked their way into his brain and fused into it; the rest spread through his muscles, grew beneath his skin, coiled around his bones. Thanks to the way the vines connected to his brain, Bdubs is able to command the vines, and their magic, at will.The vines produce seeds; some stay in his body to replace the old ones when they die, and most work their way into a pair of 'seed pods' in his wrists. Bdubs provides the nutrients, the energy; the vines provide the seeds, the magic. As an extra bonus: if the vines were to be totally removed from Bdubs' body, he would be at best extremely weak, and at worst dead. The vines have grown into his muscles, to the point where they've essentially replaced them in some areas. It's fortunate that they connected with his mind so early on, otherwise he'd be dead. -RayveeWrites [Concorp developed the fruit, and the fact that Bdubs is evidence of the unlikely success of that experiment makes them all the more angry at his betrayal]

- A lot of excellent xB information (it's too long to copy but please read it it's very good)

- Iskall has exactly one (1) failed assignment. That assignment? The kill or capture of Stress. Stress and Iskall have been, or should it be were now, friends for a very long time, since before Iskall even met Ren. So one can imagine the stress this causes Iskall, to be told to kill his one remaining friend that he knows is alive. Of course, this stress is quite enough to to Stress's Stress Monster into one it's strongest yet seen forms, allowing for Stress to then get away. (1/2)(2/2) Of course, Con Corp doesn't- and can never- know the true reason that Iskall cannot kill or capture Stress. If they knew, if they subjected Stress to the same hell he's in- no, that cannot happen. So Iskall hires False to protect Stress, to interfere whenever they send him on a mission for her. Luckily, False is good at keeping secrets when she wants to, and this one she'll keep. But as far as Con Corp knows, Iskall has severe stress and trauma from being a cyborg, and that's why he fails. [This all adds up to a monumental waste of Concorp's time and money, which also results in False getting payed, so all parties involved are happy except for Concorp >:)]

- Impulse would take a bullet for his teammates, and he knows they might be about to take one for him, keeping him updated on what's going on government side of this... slander. Still, Tango and Zed are great actors, and if he didn't know better, he might be a little worried they would *actually* be hunting him down in the name of justice [Tango and Zed are now being sent on missions to retrieve Impulse, which they must pretend to lose believably. They occasionally overestimate their friend's abilities and give him a few more close calls than he'd like, but overall the ruse is holding up.]

Writing:

- Wels, Hels, TFC, and Grumbot

- Bdubs Concorp promotion and desertion

- Joe Hills in his time dilation hideout

- Etho clones, ZIT, and the nHo

- Keralis and Void

- [ALTERNATE] Reveal of Impulse's situation with the nHo

Art:

- Impulse suit design

[transsexualhamlet]

pushing my shameless trans agenda onto liam

Hi i just think he’s transgender have you seen the man

Ok so obviously I’m not intending to say this is canon or ever will be canon i just think it would be Neat and i can fit it within canon since well we really can’t tell and there’s honestly a lot of things that fit with it :) also it’s just my favorite characters get hit with the transgenderification beam bc i say so

The whole argument is basically:

-the Name Situation

-his appearance and mannerisms

-his Past TM 

-the Bond Situation

-and because I said so

But yeah so the main reason this came to mind is because of the whole deal with his name. I made a previous post on this but yeah, the thing about liam’s name is a big deal, and you know, as a trans person I see it and relate it to that.

The main thing is that there was no necessity to change his name. Louis never changed his first name, and there was no need to. And it’s never really gone over why william’s past life is so important to cover up, other than the fact that he did a court case where he threatened to cut a guy’s arm off when he was like eight, but that’s like... you know, that’s reasonable. He’s very very protective of his past identity, where louis kind of isn’t. 

And the fact is, William isn’t an alias, he didn’t have to take that name, he isn’t just doing it out of necessity- he truly does identify with that name, proven in many ways. He enjoys nicknames derived from it. And the thing most indicative of this is Sherlock. In chapter 53, he goes wayyyy out of his comfort zone to actually reveal his past identity and his name. Sherlock knows it, the entire point is to reveal that to him, as a way of giving up the last and most important of his secrets. And yet, even then, William signs his letter ‘William James Moriarty’, though it’s supposed to be his innermost, most vulnerable self.

This pretty much says for sure it’s the name he wants to be called, the name he identifies with, and not whatever his name used to be. It’s important to him, and that’s not a front- have you read that fucking letter? If he was going to admit himself as anything else, it would be there.

Sherlock respects that as well- if there was ever a time when Sherlock would not call him liam, it would be in chapter 55. And yet the most important thing is that he still did call him Liam. He was accepting this dude even though he used to be something else, he didn’t care and he was still willing to save him and love him. Hmmm Sherlock allegory for Trans Ally lmao. 

How the identity and name itself is treated also makes it seem even more a positive represetation of a deadname situation. They never tell us his name. And that’s like... honestly important. They’re going out of their way to say that his old name isn’t important. They’re not keeping it secret for any reason than to show that it doesn’t matter, that no matter what he used to be, William James Moriarty is what he is now.

Anyway, other than the name situation, there are still a lot of other factors that go into my thoughts about it.

A lot of his behaviors are indicative to it, especially when he is a kid there are moments where im just like “haha this is an allegory for transgenderism”. 

Like first and foremost have you seen how this man looks as a kid? That is the most androgynous motherfucker you’ve ever laid eyes on. No one would honestly be able to tell, the way he looks as a kid is in no way disproving this- kind of the opposite, in fact.

are you honestly looking at this face and telling me rn you know that’s a cisgender boy?

And honestly, the fact that Albert lends him some of his old clothes just to go around outside in, and then when he comes back the butler is like Take Those Off Right Now Those Aren’t For You is like. Hm. That’s a gender thing. It’s obviously not the case but yknow, another allegory TM.

In his own orphanage as well, he basically took the ‘eldest daughter’ role to a T. He was doing all the chores, taking care of the children, teaching them things, actually managing all the finances as a Child, and kind of thanklessly getting handed this workload he took on bc, you know, eldest daughter. This role just isn’t really given to guys, no matter if they’re Smart TM? I feel like an amab person here would be given the oooh special gifted kid treatment but he’s not, they mostly just use him there as “free extra mom and 100% adult at 12″.

Another big thing is the entire situation around bond, who is literally a canon trans character. For this time period, the way the Moriartys handled the situation seems almost comically out of place. These dudes from the 1800s really just were like “oh yeah ofc you’re a man and we’ll fight anyone who says otherwise and facilitate you in any way possible”- they accepted it without even having to come to terms with the idea that it could be a thing. Bond clarifies constantly that it isn’t about him filling a role, that this is genuinely him, there’s no doubt about it. They clearly have run across it before, and it’s a significant and important issue to them that at least one of them has to have experienced firsthand. It literally just doesn’t make any sense otherwise.

Also in this situation I think it’s kind of funny that the one name they have on hand for the transgenders is James like come on you can do better than that

The parallels between him and Bond also make the whole situation really funny, especially with Sherlock bc it’s like wow sherlock i see you have a type and it’s blond trans men. 

Plus, the man is overly secretive, he refuses to let anyone but Louis in his room and just generally doesn’t let people he doesn’t trust get close to him, obviously there are plenty of valid secrets he is keeping, it’s just another thing that points to it.

And I mean, honestly. Just look at the dude. Transgender trait: awful haircut. It’s the awful trans haircut you get from having a Gender Moment and going to a cis barber like “cut my hair short” and they give you karen hair. Somehow he owns it? But it’s an objectively terrible haircut.

My last point: because I said so. All my favorite characters get the transgenderification beam.

So you know, I refuse to believe he is cis until they decide we get to see him shirtless, come on anime team, don’t be cowards lmao

[kumoriyami-xiuzhen]

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 - Okita Chapter 1

This is my first post of the month, so I’ll start by asking you to please support me if you can through my ko-fi, and paypal or patreon which provides access to my hakuoki blog translations and early access to my postings. Also, please let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my Lookout List since i either do not have audio for those cds or do not have audio that I can share…. and if you are able to remove watermarks from a video, please contact me…

*sigh* i seem to have lost my favourite pliers (yes i have a favourite pair. you would too if you were making chainmaille cuz that seriously hurts your hand after a while lol). they were the only needle-nose pliers i have and while i can’t say im not tempted to get another pair as the ones im using now are broad-headed pliers, and using them is extremely difficult with the ring size im working with, im extremely cheap when it comes to getting new tools if i already have them.

anyway. enjoy! 

Hakuoki Yuugiroku 2 Chapter 1 - Okita

Translation by KumoriYami

The pleasant sound of birds chirping came from nearby/ I didn't know where they came from, but I heard the pleasant chirping of birds.

I was hurriedly walking through headquarters———

Yukimura: Ah.....

I saw/bumped into Okita-san, who seemed to be unusually idle. .

Yukimura:…………

As I thought about the worrying conversation that happened this morning, I summoned my courage to try and greet him/courage and called out to him.

Yukimura: Ah, um, Okita-san......!

Souji: What is it?

Yukimura: Can I have a bit of your time......?

Souji: That’s fine, but...is this about the festival? Did you want to go too, Chizuru-chan?

Yukimura: !

Souji:......Well, there’s no way that it’s not that [???]. You should know what sort of position you’re in.

Souji: Although it's a rare festival [reword later? basically festivals rarely occur], you however, can't leave headquarters by yourself, right?

Yukimura:…………

Souji:…………

With his smile full of ill intentions, Okita-san stared at me as if he were urging something......

Yukimura: If, If Okita-san doesn’t mind, I’d be very happy if you could take me to the festival... 

Souji: Heh. It's a bit surprising/little unexpected. [That?] You'd actually ask me that.

Souji: I don’t mind (though). I can’t/don't have patrol or need to practise today/I’m not allowed to patrol or practise today, so I have some/can spare the spare time.

Yukimura: Can’t /Not allowed to practise...?

Although those words made me feel uncomfortable, as I tilted my head... 

Okita-san simply smiled, not answering the question I had just asked, and continued/and changed the subject. 

Souji: Anyway, call me when/if you're ready to go out.

Souji: I don’t want to cause any problems, so make sure you aren’t seen/found out by anyone else. 

Yukimura: Ah, that’s fine/there won’t be a problem...!

Souji: ?

Yukimura: Hijikata-san said that "it's okay, as long as/okay if you go with someone," and gave me permission to go out/head outside.

Souij:…………

I don't know why, but /For some reason, Okita-san suddenly fell silent and looked/became upset/frowned.  had an unhappy expression as he fell silent.

Yukimura: Ah, that/this/Ah, um.....?

Souji:......Well, that doesn't matter. Regardless of what Hijikata-san said, I'll be the one to actually go out with/accompany you.

Yukimura: H-Ha......

Souji: Hey, Chizuru-chan. Hurry up and/Quickly get ready. Otherwise you'll be left/I’ll leave you behind?

Yukimura: I understand!

After making my preparations to go to the festival, I met up with Okita-san to leave headquarters.

At this time, Okita-san's mood seemed to have completely improved, and he was smiling happily.

Souji: I'm really looking forward to the festival. Then let's go.

Yukimura: yes!

However, as we started walking, a person quickly rushed out in front of us. 

Yamazaki: Hold it/Wait, Okita-san. You can't leave/aren't allowed/ I can’t allow you to leave headquarters......!

Souji:——What would Chizuru-chan like to eat? There should be many stalls selling food/stalls that sell food at the festival. 

Yamazaki: Don't ignore me!!

As if to physically stop him, Yamazaki-san moved his own body to obstruct/block Okita-san’ path.

Yamazaki: I was talking to you just now, Okita-san!?

Yukimura: Um......

In contrast to Okita-san and Yamazaki-san who were facing each other, I worriedly/carefully asked a question.

Yukimura: Okita-san, did you do something/did something happen/is something wrong?

Souji:......Aren’t those words a bit much/too much?

Yamazaki: Okita-san was very sick. Just a few days ago, he still had a terrible fever and cough, and had been bedridden.

Souji:......I've already recovered.

Yamazaki: You haven't completely recovered yet. [Furthermore,] The Vice-Commander should have ordered [that you] "are not allowed to go out until you recover first."

Yukimura: Is, Is that so?

Souji:…………

Perhaps it because of his illness being mentioned, or maybe it was because of Hijikata-san's name...

That Okita-san looked incredibly upset, and his expression became angry [or something like that. this sentence was weird]. 

Yukimura: Okita-san. Was there a reason (for) why you couldn’t/weren’t allowed to practise?

Souji:.......Everyone's just too overprotective. It's not that serious, but it's just that the dojo is so noisy that I’m staying away from it [really word. reword later?].

Yamazaki: Regardless of what Okita-san may say,  you aren't allowed to pass through here. It’s what the Vice-Commander has ordered. 

Yukimura:…………

I clenched my fists and stared straight at Okita-san. [not sure bout this sentence since i can interpret at least 5 different ways].

Yukimura: Let's go back/return/head back for now/the time being. Even with force, I don't think Yamazaki will ever be leaving here/moved | I don’t think Yamazaki-san will leave here, even if you used force...

Souji:…………

Yukimura: Please, Okita-san.

Even after listening to me though, Okita-san didn't provide any response......

After a while/Eventually, he reluctantly started walking and returned to headquarters.

However, Okita-san still hadn't/didn't seem to have recovered from his bad mood/ when he separated from me, it still seemed like Okita-san hadn’t recovered from his bad mood——。

-end of chapter-

[shownusaurus]

WHAT MONSTA X ARE LIKE IN BED

an: just did this before I publish my first fanfic on this account lmao 😂

Son Hyunwoo/Shownu:

pretty vanilla I think, he's an awkward teddy bear but he oozes sex appeal which makes me think he's probably got something hidden tbh

biting? it could be biting, I'd think so. not enough to hurt but enough to leave marks, and it's the least 'out there' I can think of lmao

I think he enjoys oral on himself, but I don't think he particularly enjoys going down on you? he'd be willing and while doing it he'd defo be having fun, but it's not something he's going to offer to do all that often

he does enjoy taking care of you, though. he's a softie in and out of bed and I definitely think he has your interests in mind, and he's probably very into foreplay and aftercare.

soft and sensual, wants to make love to you not fuck you. there's a difference.

likes your thighs, bites them a lot and leaves hickeys ALL OVER

I don't care, he likes hickeys. won't bruise with his bites but sucks until your thigh is purple.

has a sensitive neck, upper back, spine and chest.

also probably likes when you touch his v-line 👀

Shin Hoseok/Wonho:

okay first of all, I feel like despite the fact that? A lot of people see him as big and strong and intimidating? He is not. In the slightest. If u think that you need to apologise to my bunny immediately.

but I definitely think he's a total simp for you. like, his caring, gorgeous s/o who he loves more than the world? his favourite wenee/monbebe? simp x1000.

which definitely carries into the bedroom I do not care. Likes to be soft w you, not necessarily vanilla but definitely passionate

ur body is a temple and my god does he worship it,,, kisses all over, gentle touches, hickeys wherever he can reach

probably has a thing for wrapping his manly hand around your wrists or throat and applying gentle pressure, loves to see how big he is compared to you

overall a sweetheart. Could be rough if you asked, but he 100% has to treat you like a queen after, massage and run a bath and feed you fruit to boost your energy

he's in love w you and he wants to show it while also sating both of your needs however you want him to

Lee Minhyuk:

playful! Goofy sex honestly, probably starts with him tickling you to death and just goes from there

definitely still sensual and looking out for both of your needs but is a complete ball of sunshine throughout

gonna leave hickeys across your hips, I feel like he has a thing abt hips? dk why

purposefully touching places where he knows are ticklish, playfully biting but not leaving marks

always wants to try a new position

Yoo Kihyun:

one of the more serious ones during sexy time

wants to treat you right but also wants to be rough w you??

spanking, choking, probably calls you a slut at least 3 times, at LEAST. will not pass up an opportunity to wrap a tie around your wrists or stuff your panties in your mouth either.

KINKY!! as if u didn't know from ^

don't think he'd be into that daddy kink though. probably would douse you in holy water and then read you the bible.

I am not ur father u nasty

but also? 👀 It does turn him on, but it just also makes him feel weird. like... I feel like he really does not want to be associated with ur parents at all while ur having sex? He thinks it's weird that you like it and he thinks it's weird that HE likes it

other names though like sir or master? yes, 100x yes

will pound you into the mattress

Chae Hyungwon:

lazy sex. wants u to ride him like a fuckin pony. not gonna make you do all the work out of courtesy but if u told him to just lie there he absolutely would.

doesn't strike me as the kinky type. lazy kisses, nips and 69ing sure ofc, but not really overly kinky. maybe if you're lucky he'll spank you a couple times or hold your throat while you hop on that dick.

morning sex is a thing with him but so is late night sex.

kind of... feel like he'd be down with cockwarming? doesn't take much effort on his end or yours and he enjoys being close to you as well.

Lee Jooheon/Joohoney:

also lazy, but not as much as hyungwon

an ass man and u won't convince me otherwise

doesn't have to be fat, if you have an ass he's touching

wants you to ride him but he's a power bottom in that scenario lmao

grips ur hips and pulls you down as he thrusts up into you

leaves bruises on your thighs and hips

probably a few hickeys but not many, and likely on your thighs.

really wants to go down on you. would 10/10 eat you out at any time of the day without a care in the world if you'd let him

doesn't much care if you give him head or not. appreciates it if you do but if you don't want to that's okay too.

Im Changkyun/I.M:

also an ass man, like... really likes your ass and thighs. a lot.

always has a hand on your ass

spanking is his kink

will probably let you call him daddy and would get SUPER into it

he has rules and u have to follow them or you get punished

basically just likes to feel like he's in control, but is actually whipped for you

you probably need a safeword with this one, something recognisable bc this man has you spewing out random ass words while he's fucking you and it needs to be something that you just don't say when you're having sex you feel?

lowkey feel like he likes to eat ass and idky

[bitchesofostwick]

Inquisitor as a Companion: Ellinor Trevelyan

(template via dextronoms)

Inquisitor’s name: Ellinor Trevelyan

Alternate name: She offers only her surname Trevelyan upon meeting her. With the Inquisition perk Nobility Knowledge, the Inquisitor can unlock the dialogue, “Trevelyan...as in the noble house Trevelyan of Ostwick?” She will immediately dismiss this comment but neither confirm not deny it. Later, upon achieving “warm” approval level, she will acknowledge that she is the daughter of Bann Jaime Trevelyan but no longer associates with her family. Only if the Inquisitor achieves “friendly” approval will she reveal and allow them to call her by her first name, Ellinor.

Race, class, and specialization: human, dual-wield rogue, assassin

Varric’s nickname for them: swift (for how she’s quick with a knife)

Default tarot card: Knight of Wands, symbolizing energy, passion, inspired action, adventure, and impulsiveness

How they are recruited: Ellinor is found in the Storm Coast along the water. Upon approaching the area, the game enters a cutscene in which a woman dressed in an elegant but otherwise muddied and soaking wet traveling dress interrogates two rogue templars on the whereabouts of an unnamed apostate. She describes a young man with tan skin, dark straight hair, high cheekbones, and brown almond-shaped eyes all while the camera pans around her so the player can see the features she describes are also features she embodies. One of the templars makes a snide remark: “Can’t say I’ve seen ‘im, but I don’t mind what I’m looking at right now.” Ellinor promptly pulls two long daggers from behind her back, making quick work of ducking, dodging, and slashing at the two large, slow templars. As she wipes the blood from her face, she notices the Inquisitor and their party approach and sarcastically thanks them for their “timely assistance.” The Inquisitor can then ask her about the apostate she’s looking for, and she reveals that she’s been searching for her twin brother, Avery, a mage formerly of a Circle in the Free Marches. She explains that her travels have led her to Ferelden, and she has reason to believe he’s nearby. The Inquisitor can then select one of two dialogue options. Choosing The Inquisition may have the resources you need to find him, if you’re willing to help our cause in return. will recruit Ellinor. Choosing I see. Best of luck. will not recruit Ellinor.

Where they are in Skyhold: Ellinor can be found standing along the wall in the main hall of Skyhold. Before Skyhold has the necessary renovations, she will either sharpen her knives or read through a journal until spoken to by the Inquisitor. Upon renovating the main hall, she will lean against the wall, eavesdropping on the nobility that stand near the dais. If interacted with, she opens the discussion by saying, “Nobles leak a lot of secrets, if you can stand listening to them babble for long enough.”

Things they generally approve of: Generally any pro-mage actions. Ellinor is also in favor of swift and often knee-jerk acts of justice. A harsh critic herself, she will have respect for an Inquisitor who makes confident, borderline unforgiving choices. Of the main quest judgements, Ellinor will greatly approve of executing either Gereon Alexius or Knight-Captain Denam. Although of noble background herself, she will approve of most dialogue options that are humiliating or negative toward nobility; for example, she greatly approves of sentencing Florianne to farm work and even slightly approves of sentencing her to be the Inquisition’s court jester. She will also approve of a rogue inquisitor selecting the Assassin or Tempest specializations.

Things they generally disapprove of: Any pro-templar actions. As such, she also disapproves if a warrior Inquisitor chooses the Templar specialization. She will disapprove if Alexius is made to work with the mages or with the Inquisition (upon being spoken to after the judgement, she will frustratedly say that Fiona’s mages and/or the Inquisition’s mages deserve better than a Venatori magister), and she greatly disapproves if Knight-Captain Denam is conscripted to the Inquisition. Generally, she will have little respect for an Inquisitor she finds naive or too forgiving.

Mages, templars, other? Due to her personal experience with mages and templars--her twin brother being taken to the Circle by her elder sister, a templar, she is staunchly pro-mage. She has no patience for templars, and shortly after recruitment, the player will experience a cutscene in which she and Cullen are caught in a heated argument in Haven (this cutscene is skipped if she is recruited after reaching Skyhold). Her opinions on the Circles and Templars are less severe if the Inquisitor has a positive relation with Vivienne and Cullen, respectively. If her personal quest is completed with Avery safe, she will have a positive stance toward a reformed Circle governed by mages.

Friends in the Inquisition: She is good friends with Dorian, Sera, and Leliana. She is cordial with Josephine as well as Vivienne, although she is more warm toward Vivienne if the Inquisitor has a friendly relationship with Vivienne and if Ellinor’s personal quest is completed with Avery safe. She dislikes Cassandra. She despises Cullen upon her being recruited, although after the player completes Cullen’s Perseverance quest (choosing not to make him take lyrium), she will be softer toward him.

Romanceable?: Ellinor can be romanced by Inquisitors of any race and any gender. Flirt dialogue options are present in dialogue shortly after recruiting her, although she will be put off if these options are selected before the Inquisitor has gained enough approval with her. When a “warm” approval level is reached, she will be visibly flustered (but flattered) at any flirtatious dialogue, and although she will still dismiss or not reciprocate flirting, the player will get slight approval for the first successful flirt option. When a “friendly” approval level is reached, Ellinor will be openly receptive to flirtatious dialogue, but she will not strongly reciprocate before her personal quest is complete, saying, conflicted, “I came to Ferelden to look for my brother, and that’s still what I’m here to do. If things were different…” Upon speaking with her after completing her personal quest (with Avery safe), she will thank the Inquisitor for their help, saying she never would have dreamed of receiving such support in her journey to find him and will thank them tearfully. The Inquisitor can choose the relationship dialogue Of course. I love you. and although she freezes first, as though in shock, she will then kiss the Inquisitor softly. The kiss deepens, and the scene fades to black. The next time the Inquisitor speaks to her, she will reciprocate warmly if romantic dialogue is chosen.

If Ellinor is not romanced, she will not explicitly be paired with any other character; however, she will speak more softly of Cullen (post-Perseverance, if he is not made to take lyrium again). If the Inquisitor selects the dialogue I thought you hated Cullen. she will swiftly brush them off, clearly flustered and red-faced. No other romantic implications are made.

Small side mission: “Stealing Plans.” Ellinor learns that her elder sister, Knight-Captain Bryony Trevelyan of the Red Templars, is in the Western Approach. She believes Bryony’s personal journals and letters, kept in various Red Templar camps, will contain the information she needs to narrow down Avery’s possible location. The Inquisition engages in a fetch-style quest in which they must retrieve journals from three separate Red Templar camps. At the final camp, the Inquisitor will encounter minor boss enemy Knight-Captain Bryony and has no choice but to defeat her.

If Ellinor is in the party, when Bryony’s health is depleted, it will cut to a brief scene in which Ellinor deals the killing blow. Upon speaking to her, after, she will not wish to discuss her sister at all (or for that matter, ever again).

If Ellinor is not in the party, upon returning the journals to her, she thanks the Inquisitor and asks if they encountered her sister. The Inquisitor can lie (No, I didn’t see her.), to which Ellinor comments with determination that “she’s still out there, then.” The Inquisitor can consequently tell the truth (Yes. She’s no longer a problem.), but Ellinor will reply irritably that she wishes she’d been the one to do it.

Regardless, the Inquisitor will gain approval when the quest is complete.

Companion quest: “Quite a Pair.” Ellinor has determined that Avery has been on the run in Ferelden, as she suspected, but is now captive in a Red Templar stronghold in the Bannorn (at a unique standalone map location). The Inquisitor, Ellinor, and the rest of the chosen party travel to the stronghold and battle through groups of Red Templars until they reach an upper tower to find Avery Trevelyan battling a Knight-Captain. In a cutscene, the fighting pauses, as whoever the Inquisitor aligns themself with with have the undeniable advantage. The Knight-Captain offers the Inquisitor invaluable information, promising to betray their broken Order and reveal intelligence on the Red Templars’ movements, locations, and even Corypheus’s plans in exchange for letting him finish off Avery. Ellinor will passionately and emotionally advocate for Avery instead, telling the Inquisitor that the Knight-Captain lies, and that even if he were telling the truth, the Inquisitor cannot choose information over the life of her brother.

Option 1: The Inquisitor chooses to restrain Ellinor in exchange for the information (which unlocks a war table mission to gather more intelligence on Red Templars). She screams in agony as the Knight Captain kills Avery. Afterward, she breaks away and attacks the Inquisitor, who must kill her.

Option 2: The Inquisitor chooses to help Ellinor and Avery. They battle the Knight-Captain and are rewarded with a unique weapon that can be looted from his body. When the battle has ended, a cutscene ensues. Ellinor will run to Avery and meet him in a tearful embrace. He will ask how she found him, and she’ll explain that she’s been looking for years, and that it was the Inquisitor who helped her finally reach him. After the cutscene, Avery will heal the party and is recruited as an agent to the Inquisition. Upon speaking to Ellinor back at Skyhold, the player will see a cutscene in the tavern as Ellinor and Avery talk and laugh together along with other members of the inner circle. Seeing the Inquisitor, she will kindly excuse herself from the merriment to thank them properly for reuniting her with him.

Tarot change option 1: Three of Swords (representing heartbreak, emotional grief, sorrow, pain, and hurt)

Tarot change option 2: Nine of Cups (representing contentment, satisfaction, gratitude, and wishes come true)

[fanfictiondreamscape]

S/O Volunteers at a Daycare

Request: Im not entirely sure how to request but I did read your rules! So is it alright if I request DTK and Ciel with an S/O who works at her mother’s daycare during the weekends?

Title: S/O Volunteers at a Daycare 

Genre: fluff abound, and maybe a little comedic 

Pairing: Death the Kid/Ciel Phantomhive x Reader (separately) 

Notes: Okay, so this prompt made me flat out UwU shamelessly. Seriously, this was an adorable idea! That said, these are two of my favorite characters, so this made it even better!

So, thanks for the request! It made me feel bubbly and motivated, despite being almost stuck over the past week. Otherwise, the only things I would want to make you aware of are that I wrote them as headcanons because I felt that they would work best for the request, I tried to provide a small story for each set of headcanons, and - I think that’s it! I hope you enjoy it! (It also may be a little short, sorry!) 

Below the cut! 

Death the Kid

straight outta the gate, he knew about your work at your mother’s daycare

he had to deal with a particularly dangerous kishin that attacked the workplace a while back, and he saw you as he took care of the tainted soul despite you already prepared to use your arm to fight against the monster

but what he didn’t know was that you worked so well with the children.

your intelligence is what drew him to you, and though he had his suspicions about your great understanding of children

this was unexpected.

he seriously thought that you would be more likely to take up the receptionist position.

you were very sociable, so that was where he thought you’d decide to volunteer as it would utilize your sociability and intelligence.

but this was odd.

he was patrolling around Death City, not failing to notice what he needed to

but this?

yeah, no - this was new.

he saw you and your mother, standing outside beside the playground with the kindergarteners

pushing them on the swings and lifting them onto higher structures if needed

frankly, the sight was adorable.

he noticed the way your eyes lit up when you were around the children, almost a motherly appeal in them

and when he saw the whole picture, he was even more starstruck by you.

you are so good with children,. 

like seriously.

most of the time, they look at him and look away or decide to make a fuss about his - shiver - hair. 

so this was something only he could dream about. 

it’s only when he brings this up to you that you realize he had seen you that day. 

“so, dear, you volunteer at the kindergarten downtown?”

holdup- 

“uh...yeah. why are you asking?”

“well, i was asking on behalf of an event that you could participate in.”

turns out he wanted to invite the kids to see the DWMA, and wanted to know if you’d be willing to go with him and guide the group despite it being a weekday. 

if your mom was down, so were you

luckily, your mom was ecstatic

and lord death was 100% down for it

so this was happening

eventually the day came, and all of the students were so happy to hear that they would be seeing the big school that they always saw from different points in town. 

when they saw you, though, they all ran to hug you tightly.

the sight made kid a little jealous lol

either way, they also spotted the boy beside you, and a few of them questioned who he was.

so, before he could go on a formal route, you stopped and introduced him yourself

“his name is death the kid, and he’s lord death’s son.”

“is he your boyfriend?” 

cue the matching tomato faces

your mom knew, she loved him

and normally she would stop this immediately, 

but the scene right in front of her eyes was entertaining and not harmful so- 

the tour of the school started, and as you and kid introduced the rooms and class system to the kids,

he had an almost vice-grip on your hand the whole time. 

sometimes, his grip could be painful, but this was one of those secure ones where you didn’t feel like you were going to slip at any second.

it made you feel happier, maybe a little more confident to present what you were presenting

until it hit lunchtime, where the children gathered around you and listened intently as you told stories of goings-on at the DWMA

kid and your mom listened to the occurrence from behind

“so you and my daughter?”

“miss/ms./mrs., if i may-” 

overall, though, the whole scene left the dual color-haired teen feeling even more happiness at the sight of you.

intelligent, gorgeous, talented, and kind and sweet? 

what more could a man want than someone as perfect as you?

following the tour, you and kid sat down and talked.

after some time, you and him came to the conclusion to take him with you sometimes.

because some of the kids really were starting to like him. 

eventually, it became a common occurrence for him to join you when volunteering on the weekends.

at one point, they targeted kid and called him big brother when you brought him to the kindergarten.

so yeah, you and kids? the sight is the perfect way to get him to turn firetruck red, so use it. 

and him and kids? vice versa, he can and will use it. 

Ciel Phantomhive

listen, he knows you’re the closest thing to an actually good angel

but this was a whole new level of angel

he never really completely understood why you decided to do what you do, but he knows you’re pure-hearted

so could someone please explain to short blueberry wealth over here why he was surprised to see that you volunteered at a kindergarten?

let’s just say that when your mom was called upon to answer questions about the last time she had seen a notorious burglary suspect

and he saw you interacting with the children inside on his way out.

he blushed.

he couldn’t help it! the scene was too cute, and it made him feel something domestic!

(yeah, sebastian had a field day with the scene of ciel trying to cover his completely red face with his outerwear.)

anyway, the event made him see you in an even brighter light.

your kindness knows no bounds, does it? 

either way, he had to uphold an image.

as much as he wanted to gush about how sweet it made him feel and how much more beautiful it made you, he couldn’t

whether that was because he just couldn’t be overly sweet by nature or if it was his mature aura he had to exude to do business, he didn’t know

but yeah

he loved the image, and he went to any lengths to see it happen.

in fact, he took some extreme lengths for the children the kindergarten.

after doing some basic research on the kindergarten, it didn’t charge much for people to send their children there. 

at all. 

so he became aware that it was a kindergarten for poor families. 

(and he became flustered again. sebastian saw, teased him for it, then got commanded to clean up whatever mess the other servants of the manor had made.)

with this knowledge, he had specifically asked for Funtom toys to be sent to the kindergarten and gifted to the children. 

he originally planned to keep his name out of the endeavor, but that plan went bust when he remembered the image.

again, the domesticity that he felt from the image just- 

yeah, he was blushing again

and this was his reason behind showing up at the kindergarten and formally giving the children the toys.

you hadn’t known that he was going to do this, so your shocked face was very obvious.

the kids were shocked, but very grateful.

one of them even called him brother, and though it was odd, he found the statement oddly endearing and awkwardly patted the small boy’s head.

that’s when you blushed. 

after all of the children had their gifts and were sent off for nap time, your mother thanked him face-to-face. 

you were stood beside her in the doorway, trying to simultaneously keep an eye on the children and keep an eye on your short significant other

the blush never left your cheeks, and as you saw his hesitance to show any real “emotion” (if you get what i mean) you chuckled.

ciel still found the image so loving, and he still couldn’t help but get flustered but,

after all of this and the many times after that he provided support for either the kindergarten itself or the kids, you started to tease him.

(on the sidelines, sebastian was teasing the two of you which always resulted in him being instructed to do some offhand task elsewhere as a ploy to get him to leave the room)

(good times) 

[7wanderingpaws]

Simply, yours (11) (M)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre:  family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 6.1K

Warnings: cursing, shitty mature content

A/N: Whew, another 6K+ ... The happenings in this chapter were one of the first scenes I had in my mind when I started to write this story, huhu! Hope you like it, and let me know what you thougt. Your comments help me keep writing!  💖 Alright, Im drained.. Imma head back to study. Enjoy sweet readers of mine!

tags: @milky-baek​ @itsbaekhyunsbutt​ @luvhtears​ @shesdreaminginoverdose​ @cynthbee​ @jummyjammy​ @junmyeonnoona @littleflowercrown13​ (if you want to be tagged/untagged please let me know!)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . 10 . 11

It just felt like yesterday you told Baekhyun you wanted to go home, and now here you were, holding his hand while he had a big gym back thrown over his other shoulder as you were making your way towards the platform to catch the KTX home. The crowds were crazy given the time of the year and it was making you anxious just a little bit.

“It's good we booked the tickets early,” murmured Baekhyun as you both stepped on the escalator leading downstairs. He stood in front of you which made you taller than him for a few seconds and he blessed you with a sweet smile. He reached out with his hand and caressed your protruding belly. Unfortunately, wearing a huge and thick winter jacket made it almost impossible to feel his gentle touch.

“You are always well prepared, my boy,” you praised proudly.

He hummed, retreating his hand and quirking his eyebrows at you seductively. “I like that nickname, my girl.”

You let out a snort and Baekhyun took your hand again as you got off the escalator.

“Pff, territorial, are we?” you teased.

This time, it was Baekhyun who let out a snort, squeezing your hand in warning because he knew your little game. He saw right through it. After all, you had been playing these teasing games with him since the beginning of this week and now it was Friday, Korean New Year happening just this weekend.

Once inside the train, Baekhyun let go of your hand to let you sit by the window, while he was taking out necessary things for the ride. One tumbler with hot lemon tea for you, another one with coffee for himself, his sports management book and a notebook, and for you the small knitting kit to finish off the little piece you had been working on. With a thank you, you accepted everything he was handing you and he gave you a smile before placing the bags and winter jackets up in the holder and taking a seat next to you. Reaching over, he hovered his hand over the window pane.

“What?” you asked.

“Checking if it isn't too cold for you,” he murmured and seemingly calmed down when he got a positive result. “Can't have you catching a cold.” He sat back down, making himself comfortable. “You sure you don't want to have your jacket just in case?”

A smile of complete adoration decorated your face as you looked at his worried eyes that were boring into yours. “No, honey, it's okay for now. Don't worry too much.”

He nodded, though commented: “Heard you sneezing this morning while I was in the bathroom.”

You giggled, covering your mouth as people were still finding their places in the car. “I didn't know it was forbidden.”

“I'm just trying to make sure you're fine.”

“I am fine, I really am,” you reassured and wanted to lean in to give him a peck but was too shy since people were all around standing, some unpacking stuff.

He observed you with a gentle smile before nodding and turning to his book that was on his lap when his phone notified him of a message.

You usually didn't pay attention because you honestly aren't the type to do so. You already felt bad that he was constantly around you, and you constantly around him. You were pregnant, too sick and had too much of a high blood pressure, and he was neglecting his friends because of that.

“Don't think I didn't catch up to your little games, by the way,” he said nonchalantly, not looking your way and startling you.

You frowned at him but you sensed what he was referring to.

“If you continue, I can't guarantee what will happen.”

“Is that a threat?” you chirped, intrigued.

He gave you a handsome smile. “Whatever you like to call it.”

You bit your lip, remembering this week's happenings when you kept teasing him and doing everything the exact opposite of his preference or liking. He was just so easy to tease when you knew he couldn't throw you over his shoulder and tickle the living hell out of you, or have you his way as means of punishing you (pregnancy DID have pros). 

This week while teaching the kids at the elementary school, they became too curious about you and your huge stomach. So, whatever Baekhyun said and tried to explain to the kids you passionately opposed to. So much so that the kids ended up giggling and going against Baekhyun's word that day, which really wasn't the best situation, given he was their master they had to respect. It seemed you were much more playful and willing to speak up with kids then his university team and Jiyoung. But he wasn't complaining, despite huffing at the kids' attitude and later at yours. Plus, Baekhyun was very busy with studies in his free time the whole of the past two weeks, so you might have been begging for his attention the entire time, without you knowing it.

Back to the current day, another couple of more notifications later and Baekhyun picked up his phone, scrolling through the messages. Although you were already going through your knitting threads, checking each knot with care, you still saw from your peripheral vision how he shot you a wary glance. He typed up a message and this time put his phone on silent before putting it in the holder in front of him.

Deciding not to comment, you continued, starting on the small gloves just as the train departed. 

Baekhyun leaned in to your side, checking what you had been working on so diligently. When you started on this piece, you had asked him about the colours he liked so that you could use them. “What is this going to be?”

His breath tickled your cheek and you turned your head slightly to have a look at him. He followed you with his eyes. “Little gloves for out little ones.”

Another handsome smile and he pecked your lips, the action ending up with a tad too loud of a smooch for a public space but he enjoyed the reddening of your cheeks as he pressed another kiss to your cheek.

The entirety of the train ride, Baekhyun immersed himself in the book, highlighting important parts, checking his notes and scribbling more information around the paragraphs in the book. He looked handsome even when he was focused, tongue sometimes sticking out between his lips that were otherwise in a tight line. Watching him leaning over the book, you couldn't help but eye his strong jaw and handsome profile. A sight you knew so well; every curve, every plane, that straight nose, the plump lips and the straight chin. He seemed to be all straights and smooths, and you loved every part of it dearly.

“You know, your stare is burning.”

Few seconds later he looked up, catching you but you didn't even make an effort to not stare. He let out a breathy chuckle. “Hope you ain't getting horny here,” he murmured just for you to hear.

At that, you gasped and he laughed, knowing how embarrassed that would make you feel. “You wish! But it's you not getting any anyway,” you retorted in a shushed voice, turning back to your knitting, pretending to be offended.

“Is it really me?” he raised an eyebrow at you, handsome and all.

You ignored him, focusing way too much on the knitting, except you weren't and ended up making a mistake. “Shit.”

“No swearing while being pregnant,” he chastised, now back to his studies.

The way you took in a deep breath through your nose was loud enough for Baekhyun to hear, which ended up making him smile under his nose.

“I am throwing you off the train, Baekhyun.”

He put his pen down and turned to you, a thoughtful look on his face. “I read that our babies are big enough to actually recognize what is being said. They are able hear now. So this is the phase where we should make them listen to classical music and-” he looked at you pointedly, “not swear. Unless you want them as brats.”

When not replying, he added, reaching out to tap at your lips with his index finger. “So watch that mouth of yours.”

“If that's what you want,” you sighed nonchalantly, ignoring the burning of the touch of his fingertips on your lips. “I will comply.”

Retracting his hand, he had a lopsided smile on his face. “That's my girl.”

You rolled your eyes, though not meaning it. “So territorial.”

Baekhyun laughed.

-

Couple of hours later and both of you were in your respective homes welcomed by the typical countryside air filled with animals and hay. Your two homes were literally next to each other connected by one garden between both families.  

Both Baekhyun's and your family were waiting outside together - already acting like one big family - but after twenty minutes of greetings, squealings, belly rubbings (mostly from Baekhyun's family) you made yourself comfortable at home, your legs severely swollen and tiredness taking over you.

Parting with your boyfriend was at first difficult, because you realised Baekhyun was going to his house and you were going to your own. It would be a first in a long time where  you would spend the night away like this from each other, or at least you thought. You were hoping he would sneak in to your room in the middle of the night, or vice versa. You felt like you had the right to demand to sleep next to the father of the children you were carrying.

“I will come see you soon,” Baekhyun had whispered in your ear just before parting and his hot breath was still palpable on your skin now. He was incredible.

Your father calling out your name was what made you snap back to reality, momentarily embarrassed about the dirty thoughts you kept having the whole day. Geez. As weird and annoyed you were towards Baekhyun in the beginning of your pregnancy, where sometimes even his touches were unwelcome, now you were the exact opposite; you were growing guilt feelings towards him for using him for pleasures. But it wasn't like you were doing everything against his will. He was very much to blame, too.

“Yes?”

“What do you crave for dinner? Mum is already heating up late lunch for you,” he stepped into your small room where you were sitting on the heated floor, smiling pleasantly. You noticed the heavy wrinkles around his eyes.

“I'm fine with anything, as long as it's homemade,” you replied and crawled back on your mat that you rolled out earlier to lie down.

You father tsked. “I will bring more mats, it must be uncomfortable now, huh? You got used to sleeping on a soft mattress.”

Before he could turn to leave you called him back, lying down. “It's fine dad. I missed sleeping on the floor like this. I shouldn't have gotten too comfortable anyway.”

He sighed and joined you on the mat, sitting down cross-legged, batting shy eyelashes down on your protruding belly that your thick sweater could barely cover. “So, how are you feeling? Your mother told me something here and there but,” he shrugged, not knowing how to approach the topic, “are you okay?”

You smiled to yourself. Him being the typical father, he always kept distance between you two, not knowing how to approach his daughter, and leaving all the work to his wife. “I'm okay. It isn't easy but it's what I want.”

“I'm sure you two didn't count on three, though.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “No. It was a big shock but by now I am sure this is what it is supposed to be. Sounds cheesy, huh?”

Your father coughed, smiling to himself. “Is Baekhyun taking good care of you?” he asked, not looking your way as he was facing the door.

You melted at his name. “Yeah, dad, he is taking way too much care of me.”

“Good. I always knew he was a good boy and possibly the right one for you.”

At his words, you melted even more because he couldn't have been more right. At first, it was a shock to your parents that Baekhyun was pursuing you out of all the beautiful village girls that were his age. He did see you as a little girl for the longest time until you weren't a little girl, but a beautifully grown high school student, not too far from a full-grown woman. Despite your parents being against you two dating until you would at least finish high school and Baekhyun his military service, you two always stole some alone time.

“Thank you,” you said quietly.

Your dad turned his head slightly, not quite looking at you. “For?”

Pressing your lips together, you squeaked: “For allowing me to be with him. For letting me go to Seoul to support him. For accepting me as a pregnant woman with no marriage. For not pushing us. I know it must be hard and gossips in this village are reckless but… you and mum endure it and I just wanted to thank you.”

“I trust Baekhyun. I trust he will do something soon.” He paused for a moment, still not meeting your eye. “Did you talk about marriage, though?”

“Yes, not too long ago.”

“You will get married, right?”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Ye-yeah.”

Now, he looked at you, turning his head properly. After a little while, he murmured again: “I trust Baekhyun.”

-

Sitting down for dinner at the small table, you graciously took gulps of hot vegetable soup, loving the special taste your mother's soup had. 

“Oh my, eat slowly dear,” you mother gasped, “you will have an upset stomach.”

“I missed your cooking so much, mum,” you whined, squirming a bit to try and find a comfortable position. Your back was giving you hard time.

“I missed you, my daughter,” she cooed and added more soup to your bowl. “Eat up, it will make you feel good. Is the heating okay in your room?”

You nodded. Given the house was a traditional one, your parents still used wood for heating up the ondol system. “It's perfect. Nothing can beat the effectiveness of floor heating.”

You mother being satisfied with the answers, smiled and caressed your back. “Did you go for the recent check-up before coming here?”

You nodded and swallowed. “Yeah. I will have to take some classes about correct back posture and some exercises.”

“Well, that is important. You already look like a pregnant lady with one just before giving birth.”

She was right. People were giving you wary glances if you ever walked alone, scared you might give birth right on the place but this was just half-way through your pregnancy. Little did they know it was three little ones inside.

You shrugged and she chuckled, muttering to her husband proudly: “Our little daughter.”

-

It was the first morning where you woke up alone and naturally with the chicks outside. They were chirping happily, eagerly waiting for someone to come and feed them while you heard the cows scoffing in the stables.

Lying on your mat,  you were thinking how much you didn't like waking up alone like this. It was your childhood room, yes, but a person who became the most important human being in your life was not present.

“At least I have you guys,” you murmured, closing your eyes while you rubbed your stomach slowly, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. Thinking about what could Baekhyun be doing in that moment, your phone vibrated, notifying you of an incoming message. You smiled, reaching for it, already knowing who it was. Yesterday, you both decided to stay at your parents' houses, though you did meet Baekhyun outside for a little bit, just to share little kisses and hugs before bed.

you up yet elephant?

Wow. You weren't expecting this nickname so early on in the day. It reminded you of your little game pretty fast.

Deciding to tease him, you didn't reply. Instead, you got up and greeted your parents who were already getting ready to work.

“It's New year,” you rasped, “how about you don't work today?”

“Oh, didn't someone get too comfortable in Seoul? You know we cannot go a day without work, honey,” answered your mother as she was about to enter the wooden porch to put on her boots. “I warmed up the vegetable porridge for you, so make sure to eat it all, or else Baekhyun will have my neck.”

You scoffed. “Trust me, he is harmless.”

“Good morning, mother! I hear I am being badmouthed since early morning!”

Your mother laughed, looking probably at Baekhyun who you had yet to spot. “Dear, you cannot compete with a pregnant woman's temper.”

“Is she mad?”

You laughed, walking to the door to get a glimpse of him. He was in his sports pants and winter jacket, though his hair was messy, probably also just woken up. “Elephant has been up for a while now and she is not mad.” And you left back inside, not liking the cold breeze coming from outside.

“Go, have breakfast with her, Baekhyun” nudged him your mother and was already going out, not sparing you a glance.  “Me and dad will be outside.”

Baekhyun greeted her one more time before taking off his sneakers and entering the house, closing the door behind him so that the warmth wouldn't leak too much.

You were just about to sit down when you felt his hands on your hips and his breath on your neck, his cold nose digging into your cheek sending chills down your spine. You squealed. “You're cold!”

“And you're hot,” he murmured, not moving at your protest, enjoying your reactions too much. He slid his hands further around your stomach and a bit too low. “You're okay?”

“Yeah,” your breath hitched at his touches, already ignited inside. “Elephant has been wonderful without the bad hunter.”

“Offended?” he asked in a gentle voice, referring to his text earlier.

Letting your head fall on his shoulder, you replied: “Not at all. Not even a bit.”

He chuckled and you realised how much you missed the sound even though it hadn't been that long you two separated. “Alright, I will take that.”

“You want porridge?” you asked, and squeezed his hands on your belly. “It's still fresh.”

“Is there something else?”

“Like what?” you scoffed ready to move forward to sit down, but he pressed your back to his front.

“You?”

Your heart went into a slight overdrive. “Baekhyun.”

“Hm?” he played innocent. “We are alone now.”

You turned around and finally looked at him properly, making sure to pin him down with a stern gaze. “Now there, naughty boy, not in this house. But…” you trailed off, avoiding his stare before finding his hopeful one, “a kiss…?”

He smirked and leaned in right away, pressing his lips to yours in a small, welcoming kiss that wasn't supposed to lead anywhere, only to convey one message: good morning, my love, I missed you. Baekhyun moved his hands from your hips to your face, cradling you carefully as you made one last step towards him to get as much closure as your belly was physically making it possible for you. You stood on your tippy toes, curling your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, and he let out a low “mhhhm”. Smooching your lips a couple more times, he leaned back, giving you an affectionate smile as he ran his thumb under your eye. “Let's have that fresh porridge, then.”

And so you both moved to sit down and chatter the early morning away, munching on the porridge and drinking fresh tea until Baekhyun's phone let out a ding, notifying the first message of the day. He grabbed it, reading it before typing out a fast message and putting it away quickly.

“Who is writing you during New Year?” you asked, trying not to show too much interest.

He pressed his lips together. “You won't like my answer anyway, so let's not talk about it.”

“What, Jiyoung doesn't have her own family to spend the holidays with?”

He sighed. “She is just worried about the competition-”

“It's in July, Baekhyun,” you emphasized, already exasperated. “It's January now. Plus, she kept messaging you yesterday too!”

He called your name to get your attention and you shut your mouth. “We have a competition in two weeks between the universities!”

You pursed your lips in dissatisfaction and crossed your arms on your chest, just to realize your breasts were aching. Without wincing too obviously, you put your hands back in your lap. “Well, can she chill for at least this weekend?”

“I told her to let it go,” he retorted and grabbed his phone, opening kakaotalk quickly to show you.

Let's deal with this next week. Enjoy your holidays.

You knew his chatting style. He was being official and indifferent when he wrote in capital letters and used diacritics.

“Satisfied?”

Giving him a slight frown, you shrugged and turned to collect the plates when he grabbed your wrist to stop you. “Hey, answer me.”

“It's fine, really. Elephant will now clean up, hm?” you said, giving him a smile.

“I should be the one offended. You didn't even reply to my message this morning,” he pouted, ignoring your attempt to flee from the situation.

“I understand. Sorry for overreacting,” you mumbled, not meeting his eye.

He didn't say anything, instead he turned to collect the dishes and move them to the kitchen. “How about we take a walk in the village? Let's relive some old memories,” said Baekhyun when he reappeared from the kitchen, hands in the pockets of his pants.

“Sure,” you smiled and attempted to get back on your fee. He came quickly to help you, knowing your back must have been hurting. “Thank you, honey.”

He hummed, tapping your back gently before giving you a peck on the lips. “Let's meet outside in ten?”

“I still need to freshen up, let's make it thirty.”

He laughed. “Sure. No rush, okay? We've got the whole weekend, just for ourselves.”

-

After letting your parents know you were heading out, hand in hand you took a stroll around the village, saying hi to the neighbours and old friends. When some of the old high school classmates spotted you two, you were welcomed by howling and claps which made you embarrassed to no ends.

“You guys took it to the next stage, eh?” called one of your old classmates eyeing you up and down, and Baekhyun couldn't help squeezing your hand protectively.

“Shut up, Kim, do you even get paid,” you snapped, recovering from the blush.

He gave you a nervous laugh. “You sure grew a sharp tongue.”

You rolled your eyes but both of you laughed, instead talking about the times you didn't see each other and exchanged the news.

You relieved so many past memories, it left you feeling all nostalgic.

“Did you even have any girlfriends?” rumbled Baekhyun once you separated and moved to the outer fields of the village. “I remember you could barely look at a boy back in the days.”

“What, is the bad hunter jealous?” you teased, an excited skip in your step.

“Sure,” Baekhyun scoffed, “he has nothing on me.”

“Eyyy, self-condent men never appeased me.”

“You, sweet cheeks, are asking for a punishment.” Baekhyun, strangely, didn't have the playful glint in his eyes. He seemed deep in thought for some reason, but you weren't about to go too deep into that, given he would get back to his normal sense soon.

You just let out a hum instead of an actual answer. 

As you walked on, him and you both met lots of old friends, all of them reaching out to touch you - which was fine when it came to your friends, but Baekhyun's girl classmates touching you was a bit off. Despite that, you politely answered.

“Aren't you afraid of the birth? I mean… it's three kids!” said one, with long black hair that shone beautifully even in the gloomy January daylight.

Trying not get triggered with the images of birth and all the possible things that could go wrong, you just smiled. “I can't escape it, can I?” you said, looking up at Baekhyun who gave you a tight-lipped smile.

“You will be fine, I'm sure. Anyone with Baekhyun by their side must be just happy,” she exclaimed, not even glancing at you.

You shifted on your feet uncomfortably, suddenly wanting to go home.

“Oh, please,” pinked Baekhyun, laughing nervously.

“You're right,” you agreed a tad too loudly, “and he knows it, too. His self-confidence knows no barriers.” Looking up at his surprised eyes, you gave him a spiteful smirk. “Shall we move on, honey? My feet are killing me.”

“Then Baekhyun didn't change much,” replied the girl, a wide smile on her face.

“Well, it was nice seeing you, Kyunga. I will see you around,” waved Baekhyun, squeezing my hand so that I would move with him.

“I hope so!” shouted the girl at your retreating backs.

Walking in silence for a little bit, Baekhyun finally spoke up: “Wanna tell me what's eating you away?”

“Nothing at all.”

“Liar.”

You sighed, stopping. “Listen. All is good. It's you who threatened me earlier, isn't it? You're being all moody.”

“What, so you can get jealous and I can't?”

You snickered. “You better enjoy it then,” you said, not showing satisfaction that finally, it wasn't just you to get all worked up for nothing,  “because I am not letting it go.”

-

That evening, both of your families were eating together, this time at Baekhyun's house which wasn't much different from your own. The entire time till dinner you kept being just like the whole week. Going against him, sarcastic and mean although you both knew you didn't mean it. Despite that, during dinner he was getting slightly ticked off and ended up glaring at you and staring you down with a stern gaze that said it clearly: stop it or…!

And you wanted to get a taste of that “or…!” part very badly which was why you didn't stop.

“Baekhyun, how is teaching going?” asked your father kindly, the whole family grouped around a dining table on the floor. The dinner was consumed in a pleasant manner, both families enjoying their kids being home. Baekhyun's parents seemed to be extremely protective of you, Baekhyun's mum explaining she wished to have a daughter but instead got a boy. Hence she was careful around you, making sure every wish in your eyes was fulfilled.

While Baekhyun was answering politely, you noticed his phone blowing up again. Honestly, you weren't even sure if it was Jiyoung or not, you had had enough by then. Not entirely sure what you were doing, you stood up as quickly as physically possible and excused yourself for a while, saying you needed some fresh air.

On your way, you caught Baekhyun's eye, but you made sure you were cold before grabbing your winter jacket and leaving the house to put on your shoes on the wooden porch. Deciding the best destination was the stables where warmth was always around, you marched over, meeting the cows in a pleasant coo. The fire was gently sizzling in the corner providing just the perfect temperature for you to stand in your unzipped jacket.

“Ah, I missed milking you, my cows,” you said as you went from one cow to another, greeting them and caressing them between their eyes gently, earning satisfactory nodding from them. They were so cute, you let out another coo until you heard someone clearing their throat at the entrance.

You turned your head to spot Baekhyun watching you carefully. You sighed, turning to face the cows again. “I want to be alone.”

He said your name gently, stepping in and letting the door close shut as he tried to approach you only for you to make two more steps ahead. “What's wrong? Why are you acting like this?”

“I said I want to be alone. Just leave, Baekhyun,” you answered and moved towards the wooden ladder that would lead you up to a small loft where you stored the hay.

“Hey, don't do this,” he said as he saw you walk away. He moved after you, which only prompted you to speed up your pace, quickly grabbing the ladder and climbing up as you tried to lose him. Of course it was silly. There was no way out once you were upstairs in the loft. You would end up being trapped but maybe that was what you wanted.

“Come back, missy!” you heard him and you almost let out a giggle, but instead a squeal left your mouth quickly climbing up as you felt his presence behind you. Once up, you made a little run to the opposite side but he caught up, grabbing you from behind and you let out a scream.

His hand was fast on your mouth. “Shhh, why are you screaming?”

You wiggled, wanting to shake him off but his grip tightened and he turned you around swiftly before pressing his lips to yours fervently in hopes to shut you up. You squealed again against his mouth, trying to fight him until you couldn't fight anymore, completely melting in his arms as he kissed you senseless, opening your mouth and tasting you.

You hummed in satisfaction, eyes closed, bringing your arms around his neck to get a better taste because he was going strong on you. He was pushing you backwards until there was no more space, until he laid you gently in the stack of hay and hovered over you, pushing your legs apart with his knee so he could climb over you comfortably.

“Since when did you become an attention seeker?” he breathed down onto your mouth as both of you were gasping for air. “Constantly teasing me, going against me, and now fighting me, hm?” he asked in a low voice and he pressed his forehead to yours, demanding answers.

“And so the bad hunter caught the elephant,” you murmured and to answer him, you added: “Kids changed me.”

Baekhyun smirked, shaking his head gently before affection took over his gaze again. “Kids, kids, kids. Well, I want to know about you, sweetheart,” he murmured, slowly pecking your lips before moving his lips lower, kissing a trail down your jaw and neck. “Why is mummy this upset with daddy?”

“Oh god, here we go again,” you sighed at the words he used and closed your eyes when he bit down a tad too harshly, “but I think I'm starting to really like it. So don't stop.”

You felt him smile against your skin while his hand slipped under your sweater, caressing your belly before dragging it up, teasing the underside of your bra.

“Take it off,” you sighed. “Take me.”

Baekhyun grabbed your breast over the material, massaging it and you hissed in pain. He leaned back right away, monitoring your face. You smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, they are aching.”

“Ah, baby,” he smiled gently, and pressed his forehead to yours yet again. “I'm sorry you have to go through all of this.” He spoke, but his fingers still pushed down the material off of your breast so he could have access to the skin. You closed your eyes, the smallest of his touches giving you the utmost pleasure. Much gentler, he massaged your breast and nosed your cheek, earning another hum out of you. “I made you like this.”

“Yeah, you did,” you said and mouthed on his cheek that was turned to you. “And I love it. So don't you dare feel guilty, Baekhyun. We still have half of the way ahead.”

“Oh, sweet cheeks, the bad hunter is having very bad thoughts right now. Far, far from guilty,” he rasped as he nibbled on your earlobe. “Your boobs are huge, your belly is huge, your hips and thighs are rounded. I'm salivating over here exactly because I did this to you.”

“Oh my god.”

You don't recall Baekhyun ever talking to you in this manner and you didn't know it would turn you on this much. His hot breath on your skin, his touches, his mind. Jesus. You were a whimpering mess, wiggling your hips for him to get the damn clue to start doing his job.

He leaned back and sat on his knees before he massaged your thighs; first the outer side, then the inner side until he smoothened his hands over the button of your pants, opening it with his expert fingers. His eyes were attentive, checking your reaction but the blush on your cheeks and the blown out pupils told him more than enough.

Slowly pushing down your pants, he followed suit with his. He hovered over you once more while his hand found the sweet spot you needed him at the most, testing it. “Hmm, dirty talk can get you this wet. Baby girl,” he hummed in bliss, mouthing on your neck.

“You haven't got used to it yet?” you laughed quietly and gasped when he pushed two fingers in, letting out a moan.

Baekhyun wordlessly continued his ministrations and you brought him in for a feverish kiss, all tongues and saliva, the need for each other too strong to even care. When the pressure was building up steadily in your tummy, he retreated his fingers.

“Are you comfortable?” he whispered, lining himself up with your center as he grabbed your hand to intertwine your fingers.

“Yeah,” you breathed loudly, “just get in already.”

“We are really doing it in the stables, huh,” he said, chuckling and he entered you slowly, unable to resist any longer. The belly was by then quite the restriction between your bodies but Baekhyun did not mind doing extra work if it meant pleasuring the both of you.

You let out another moan shamelessly, not caring any of your parents could be outside in the quiet evening.

“Does this mean the babies can hear us doing this, too?” you whispered, meeting his focused gaze as he pulled out completely before slamming himself inside, his groan muffled as he hid his face in your neck.

“Fuck,” was what he said, shuddering with the adrenaline rush as he kept sliding in and out of you, none of you hiding how good it felt to finally be connected like this. Baekhyun adored this horny side of you, and he swore sex while you being pregnant was more exciting than ever before.

It was getting immensely hot despite it being a freezing winter outside, the hay keeping the warmth your two bodies created well. Baekhyun kissed you in the last seconds, feeling your walls tightening around him and he himself wasn't far from seeing stars from the overwhelming bliss of you around him and your face that was now shiny with sweat and heat.

“I love you,” you muttered with your eyes closed.

“Look at me, angel,” he gritted through his teeth, heartbeats away from crossing the edge. “Look at me and say it.”

With all your willpower you snapped out of your ecstacy and stared into his fucked out eyes that still gave you reassurance, safety. “I love you, Baekhyun. Too much.”

He managed to smile and heard you scream when you exploded around him. “I love you too, my baby. My only one,” he whispered while panting, and followed you soon.

Helping the both of you ride out the high, he moved around, not wanting to slip out of you just yet, but he had to. His arms were about to go completely numb as he tried to hold himself over your belly, and so hissing quietly at the sensation, he lied down next to you, his clothed chest rising up and down.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, collecting the sweat around your forehead with the back of your hand. “This was mind blowing.”

Baekhyun snickered, turning his head to look at you. “It was. You sounded gorgeous.”

Not bothering to get all embarrassed, you turned on your side and laid your head on his chest, his arm coming to circle around you. Although you were all sticky and wet, you felt like on cloud nine. “So the happenings of the trip - the elephant was caught by the bad hunter. And our babies can now hear us having sex.”

Your boyfriend laughed out loud and pressed a loud kiss to your hairline, as he caressed your shoulder. “That's about right. They might be too wild in the future.” He trailed off before suggesting: “So should we just have a round two then?”

[kisskissbanggang]

Hello Stranger

[14K Words/1Hr. Read - Teacher!Bang Chan x Admin!Female Reader - Fake Relationships, Guest Appearances, Fluff, Smut, Slow Burn, New Teachers, Vanilla, Office Sex, Allusions To Troubling Subjects]

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You should’ve expected a phone call when you read the email. At least then you would be somewhat prepared for the verbal lashing you were currently receiving from one of your greatest teachers. 

“I’m sorry, but — wait, you know what? No I’m not, I’m not sorry — but I am not staying here with this dumpster fire waiting to happen! He’s wrecking the department — Johnny, let me talk — and I didn’t even want him here to begin with. Congratulations, ma’am, you torpedoed my program I worked so hard to build.”

Doyoung paused, waiting for you to call his bluff, to appeal to his good side as usual. He was right. He’d done so much for his school — for the district, really, and this was getting out of hand. Johnny could be heard behind him, the poor principal having apparently had his desk phone wrestled away from him to begin with. 

“Mr. Kim,” you spoke into the phone, mustering all the confidence you had in you, “what do you want me to do? I mean it. Tell me what you want.”

“He goes or I go,” Doyoung dramatically laid out into your ear. Johnny could be heard trying to console the raving teacher before Doyoung apparently ducked him every few seconds. “I’m losing my mind. I have 150 students becoming fucking hypnotized and they’re influencing their peers like the plague.”

“Besides losing either of you,” you carefully negotiated, “what do you want me to do? I value your input; I always have. Dig into the meat with me here, please.”

“I will not teach beside some noble renegade who wears hoodies to class and asks his students to call him by his first name. I won’t teach in the same building, nor in the same school. This is dangerous, and you know it is. For all the money you’re throwing at PR this year you could be putting it in your students.”

You hated that Doyoung was right. This was not a great start to the year. A sigh escaped that you had not meant for, and Doyoung audibly steeled himself on the other end of the receiver. He was waiting now. 

“I’m coming down there,” you announced. Apparently Johnny heard you, a god fucking dammit being heard behind Doyoung’s shoulder. Doyoung, however, was sated. 

“Fine,” he replied, but he didn’t sound fine. He sounded like he was surprised he got anywhere. “I’m sorry I got so upset.”

And like that, Doyoung hung up. You slumped down in your chair, having been pacing your otherwise pristine office for the past 15 minutes which had felt more like 15 hours. You were fussily rearranging your desk, trying to calm yourself back down when your assistant finally felt it was safe enough to poke her head into your office. 

“Ma’am—” Yeji greeted before you held up a hand to stop her. You pinched the bridge of your nose in exasperation. 

“How many more calls this week?”

“Only four,” she replied. A relieved sigh softened your tense shoulders as she set the personnel file you requested on your desk. 

You felt so old now, run ragged by all the mayhem, but it wasn’t so long ago that you were young yourself. Even then, you still were according to most standards. You were the youngest assistant superintendent to ever serve the district, a set of magnet schools within the city comprised of one private Montessori primary school, one public STEM-focused junior high, and one private-public hybrid high school of the arts. You pined for the ultimate position, but that chair was long occupied by Mr. Simmons, a token favorite of the school board. He called you dear and was always acting like some big man pitying a little girl. However, this didn’t mean you hadn’t tried like hell to make an impression. 

Your first three years had been a terrific uphill trajectory. In year one, you brought on Doyoung to replace the retiring choir teacher and head of the music department at the high school. To date, he’d brought in more accolades than his predecessor did in twice the time. For your second year, you collaborated with your junior high on an agricultural enrichment program that offset food costs district wide to the point you could improve offerings in all three cafeterias. This year, you re-established the district PTA. Doyoung’s rabid Booster Club and the parents of the junior high’s robotics team made up the first meeting, and more and more parents had joined since. 

So it only seemed fair that this year was your first true hurdle. It had been such an innocent decision: you took a proposed program from the junior high and adapted it for your high school students. A music production and distribution program was a clean, sleek idea that was sure to impress the PTA and enrich the lives of your students in their already affluent music department and work as a dual credit with the business side of the class. What you hadn’t betted on, however, was what exactly a young teacher could get into in a high school setting. 

Chris Bang wasn’t naive — you were sure of it, looking at his portfolio. He’d cut his teeth independently producing from a young age and gathering a loyal following online. This was a concept you understood well enough, but had a time and a half explaining to anyone older than you, it seemed. Anyone older than you, but also especially Doyoung, who was very fiercely proud of his hard work to get his double Masters in Choral Conducting and Music Theory at 21 and didn’t have the patience for homegrown prodigies. You couldn’t blame Doyoung, really, even with his dramatics. His competition choir was a force to be reckoned with — surprisingly disciplined, endlessly talented, and ravenously competitive — and now two of his students were wrapped up in all this, too, and that was just the extent you were aware of. 

You tapped out an IM to Yeji from your desktop, asking her to come back into your office, and she dutifully popped in a few seconds later. She pulled up a chair in front of your desk as you rested your head in your hands for a moment. “Tell me, Yeji,” you sighed, “what’s your read on this?”

“Well, ma’am,” she mulled it over, “it’s not great. It’s awful, really. But it’s hard to tell by now what’s real, what’s a cry for attention, or what feels real but is actually just the zeitgeist. You know how this is, what it can turn into.”

You did. You’d remembered your own whirlwind feelings at a similar age, even just out of high school. Strangers and dissenters had a hard time believing it, but before you had assumed the role of meticulously poised and proper, you were frustratingly belligerent and stubborn like many of your peers when you were younger. It was easy to recall how real, how present every moment was at the time, but you didn’t even remember the whole story now. In fact, you hadn’t thought of that story in ages, but you were suddenly reminded of the smell of pine trees and sugar, the cool electricity of being out past midnight. It was quite possibly the most excited you’d ever felt, but now you couldn’t remember the fine details, the corners sanded down to curves over time. To your students, these letters were the most exciting and dramatic thing to ever happen to them, and if they would remember the details later on would depend on how you handled the situation. 

The first letter surfaced just a week before, and online of all places. A full declaration of this girl’s undying love for Chris and all of the very, very, very inappropriate things she wanted to do with him, found in an envelope on the keyboard outside his office and posted online before he could ever see it. The next letter was eventually found two days later, apparently picked up from where it had missed the trash can: a 17 year old boy, feeling emboldened enough to finally profess who he was — gay, madly in love with Chris, and willing to risk it all. A third was stolen from a girl’s backpack from some bullies and she had been a wreck, so sure that Chris had picked one of the other two and she’d missed her chance. That girl hadn’t returned to school yet. Who knew what else was going on in the hallways, in the cafeteria and bathrooms, in the parking lot after school? 

Four more parents contacted your office, according to Yeji. Four more letters. And now Doyoung was threatening to quit, for added reasons you hadn’t even been aware of. You flipped through Chris’ personnel file, hoping not to find any red flags, but hopefully find any reason this spiraled out of control, anything other than tumultuous teenage life wreaking havoc on your students. 

Your sigh renewed in spades as you glanced at your assistant again. “Who do you remember most from high school?”

Yeji’s eyes were cast downward as she thought about it. “Other than my friends? Probably the student teacher in my auto class,” she blissfully reminisced. “The teacher would sleep half the time and the student teacher would just teach us whatever we wanted to know and what we needed to know for tests. I remember I had the biggest crush because of that.”

“That’s what I was afraid of.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” Yeji gave an apologetic smile. “What about you?”

Her question knocked you off your feet for a moment. For some reason, you hadn’t been expecting it, but you immediately had an answer. “Aside from friends? Weirdly enough,” you began, “someone I didn’t meet until graduation.”

As sickly sentimental as the thought of it was, it was true. You didn’t even remember that boy’s name anymore, but you’d met exactly three times before you left for college. He had been hanging out by the bonfire on the beach at a grad party no one had expected to get so crazy. You couldn’t remember your conversation, but you could remember his bleached hair tucked under a beanie catching your eye as he sat by himself, his friends apparently wreaking havoc on their own somewhere. His lip ring was crooked, and in a fit of beer-buzzed confidence you’d fixed it for him while you talked about the phony gravitas of graduation. You’d almost kissed him, too, connecting over things that seemed way more kismet than they probably were when your friends finally made you walk home with them. 

You gathered up the rest of your patience and courage as you bid Yeji goodbye until your return and headed out to your car in the lot, making the tedious journey to the high school. The handsomely vintage architecture was charmingly modern inside the gates and within its walls, but not overly so. However, this also meant the school was a hike and a maze to navigate through to find the music department. You were distracted, though, missing a turn here or there and having to turn back a couple times now that you were suddenly remembering your clandestine romance from years ago. What was his name? It wasn’t even that long ago. Had so much really happened since then? You wracked your brain. He had a reasonably fresh and nice scratcher tattoo on his bicep, you remembered, but you couldn’t remember what it was for some reason, just like his name. He had to have said it in one of these memory bites. 

The second time you’d met, he’d been handing out flyers on the boardwalk for his own show at a rave in a warehouse on the other side of town, out where the beach met the woods. He’d seen you before you’d seen him, and he had popped up with a greeting of Hello, stranger. He had made you promise to be there, which is where you met the third and final time later that night. He greeted you again the same way. Hello, stranger. You’d thought it was cute then, and still did, which must be why you still remembered that detail, at least. He liked your shoes, your worn work boots you’d picked up at a thrift store and refused to get rid of despite all the times your parents asked. 

Those warehouse shows were always nuts, all sorts of vendors arriving who were willing to shack up with any event that passed through. He had bought you cotton candy from one of these vendors when you met him after his set and you chatted as you walked along the tree line, talking about his dreams of becoming rich and famous on his own terms. He kissed you, once, and you tasted his lip ring and spun sugar for weeks. You found yourself wondering now if he ever did become rich and famous. 

Doyoung gave you a passing glance in the hall as you stalked towards Chris’s classroom: he looked impatient but thrilled and, sure enough, well dressed in his usual suit and tie. You wondered if this new staff member was exactly what Doyoung was fear mongering. Maybe it was simply a difference in values. This was Chris’ first year teaching professionally, you remembered, and now you felt miserably guilty. What a horrible way to start a career. You hadn’t even visited your new teacher since he began, but just the door outside his room was a mess. Doyoung’s fretting made more sense now. Even though you’d only gotten four phone calls, Chris’s classroom door was plastered in letters. 

The door creaked and fluttered as you opened it and peeked your head inside. The room was devoid of any human presence. For a space that needed to serve multiple purposes, it was sparsely filled except for classroom materials and equipment. Regular desks and chairs filled the floor as opposed to risers or music stands like in the other department classrooms, but there was still a soundproof practice room in the back of the room, and only the recording equipment stored around the room gave any hint to the classroom’s purpose. To deal with the mess after the third letter, a sub was leading Chris’s classes in the library, but you at least expected to find him here himself, or at least some posters or framed photos. You peeked inside the small office at the head of the classroom, finding it just as empty as well, but with some more personality. A few extra milk crates of visibly nicer vinyl records for sampling and listening were stacked beside the desk along with a nicer record player than what was by his desk out in the classroom. Some books sat on a shelf with a modest cactus in the corner, and finally some photos: Chris shaking hands and smiling with tons of industry players and friends, and occasionally appearing in one of those hoodies Doyoung had been warning of. He did own suits, apparently. Multiple. And he looked good in them. 

A polite cough surprised you at the door of the office. 

You whirled around, the sun outside silhouetting Chris as he stared at you in his dimly lit office. “My office hours are cancelled this week. May I help you?”

It was your turn to cough, clearing your throat. He was certainly young. He was certainly handsome, his grimace pronouncing the charming dimples in his cheeks. He certainly didn’t dress like a teacher. Chris stood in the doorway of his own office, looking at you curiously in his hoodie, jeans, and sneakers. He even had a backpack hung on his shoulder and a bag of greasy fast food in his hands. He suddenly looked down at it, embarrassed. 

“I, er, wore out my welcome in the teacher’s lounge, it seems,” he sighed out a sullen laugh. “And I needed some fresh air.”

“Mr. Bang, I—“

“Call me Chris,” he insisted with a tired grin. Your heart shamefully thumped at how friendly and cute he was. It was easier to pretend you didn’t hear him. He stepped around you and dropped down into his desk chair. He silently gestured at his food, appearing to ask if you were alright if he ate while you talked. You nodded. He dug into the bag and cheekily offered you a fry. You coolly shook your head. 

“I’m sorry we have to meet like this, but as assistant superintendent—“

Chris sputtered, standing up from his chair as he choked down the fry he’d just put in his mouth. “Ma’am,” he gasped finally, “I didn’t—“

“I know,” you nodded again. You waved up a hand in understanding. “Please, sit back down. I wanted to come by and see how you’re doing, considering the current state of affairs.”

Chris stayed standing, uneasy and fidgeting. “Alright, what do you want? Is this it? Please don’t suggest I need an attorney, I don’t think I can handle it.”

“What?” You asked, surprised. 

“I’m sorry for snapping,” Chris lamented, “but I’ve gotten dozens of emails and messages through the school portal from parents and students asking me if I did anything, and it’s doing my head in.”

“They’re what?!” You hadn’t even considered anyone actually thought the teacher was guilty of anything. He nodded gravely. 

“Read the letters outside!” His demand came out brokenly as he pointed behind you. “They’re begging me and taunting me to do all sorts of shit. Confess, quit, fuck them — all sorts of awful trash that I never even imagined. I just wanted to teach. I don’t know why the hell this is happening to me.”

You had no idea about any harassment. This looked bad. It looked bad to your students, their parents, the staff — everyone. You pulled out your phone from your purse and brought up the PR rep’s number, now on your speed dial. “You didn’t do anything.”

“Of course I didn’t—“ he sputtered before you cut him off. 

“I wasn’t asking, Mr. Bang. You didn’t do anything and I believe you. A good superintendent would support good staff. Your first few months brought nothing but praise past my office.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Chris quietly said. He finally sat down as you dialed the rep. She would be by shortly. You found another chair hiding under a pile of books and cds and moved them so you could sit. Chris was looking at you oddly now as you hung up, sitting closer than you’d normally like in the small office. You shifted uncomfortably. Chris offered you a fry again before you stiffly refused once more. He shrugged and began inhaling his food in earnest. 

“Hungry?” You asked sarcastically, instantly regretting it. There was no sense in kicking him while he was down. 

“Emotional eater,” he clarified around a mouthful, equally sarcastic in your resumed awkward silence. You considered the young teacher in front of you. If you recalled the personnel file, he wasn’t just a brand new teacher, he was new to the area as well. A rumor apparently spread among the students and even some of your staff that he had been running away from something, but you never paid that any attention until you were actually in the same room with him. He caught you zoning out in his direction, an eyebrow raised as he paused on his mouthful of food, and you sheepishly pulled out your phone and checked your agenda until your rep finally found you hiding out together in the tiny office. 

Ryujin had become your go-to girl since the school year started but even more so over the past week. Public relations for a school district should never have to become very high-maintenance work, but Ryujin was quickly proving herself over-qualified for the job. She stood in the doorway, tall and cool in her confidence despite her short stature as she looked over the situation. 

“Stand up,” she simply directed Chris. 

He gave you a quick glance, not moving until you nodded. Chris set his food down and stood, hands in his hoodie pockets as Ryujin circled him. He warily shied away from her prodding as she pinched and pulled at his clothes, looking at tags and labels. She fiddled with the cute studs in his ears, tugged on the strings of his hoodie to draw him more to her level, and ruffled his dark, fluffy hair to look for showing roots or product. Ryujin looked at you now. “This isn’t so bad,” she told you decidedly. 

Chris was confused, left about ten miles behind the conversation. “Why—“

“What do we do?” You asked. Chris looked wildly between both of you as you decided his fate without him. “We’re dealing with harassment now.”

“Of course we are,” Ryujin nodded thoughtfully, “I mean, look at him.”

“Hey!” Chris rightfully looked offended, even as you held up a calming hand to settle him down. Ryujin impatiently waited for you to let her continue. 

“He doesn’t look like a teacher, he doesn’t act like a teacher, he’s under 30, and— I’m sorry— he’s cute. He was bound to get eaten alive when his students are only a few years younger than him and he has no experience.”

“So,” you reiterated, “what do we do?”

“He can go back to teaching,” Ryujin ruled, “but he has to look and act the part. No more first-name basis, no more street clothes.”

“This is so ridiculous!” Chris laughed in disbelief. 

Both you and Ryujin glared at him now before she continued. “He’ll have to make a statement first. I’ll write it, of course. He can speak at the next PTA meeting. But —“ she turned to face him for once, “you shouldn’t be alone. Do you have a spouse? A partner? Some boyfriend or girlfriend?”

Now you shared Chris’ confused look. “Why does that matter?”

Ryujin folded her arms. “I don’t mince words. Sympathy, mostly. For anyone worrying, he’ll clearly appear to have support. For anyone who is doubting him, he clearly appears to have a loyal and loving presence in his life that can attest to Mr. Bang never having any nefarious predilection for his students and never intending to inspire any regrettable actions. It’s ultimately a similar reason to why I suggested you should wear a wedding ring.”

Your face heated up once again at being outed in front of your staff member. Ryujin had suggested a fake wedding ring ages ago when you first hired her. The moment you were appointed, parents instantly began doubting you. Even Superintendent Simmons, a parent himself, questioned you at your third interview. How could you — a young woman with no spouse and no children of your own — ever deign to understand what it’s like to raise and nurture one? The sheer stubbornness that you felt in response to that sentiment made you refuse such a placating notion as a fake wedding ring. Chris seemed to notice your embarrassment before he piped up himself, almost seeming to want to change the subject back for your sake. 

“No,” Chris said simply, “I’m single and fine with it.”

“Look,” Ryujin rolled her eyes, “that is fine. Find a fake, then. It just needs to look real. It’s not fair, but these parents will assume you’re a better person if you’re not single in this situation. They need to see that you’re a loving and committed professional who just wants to teach and nurture young minds. The next PTA meeting is this Thursday night. Today is Tuesday, so you have a little time, but not much. Consider it, and I’ll have an optional line in your statement for whatever you decide. Do you have a suit?”

“For funerals and weddings,” Chris grumbled. 

“A sweater is fine then,” Ryujin shrugged. She put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “This is going to be fine. Let me know if you need anything.”

“You’re leaving?” You realized with thorough embarrassment that you sounded distressed. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” she sighed, “the Superintendent wants a meeting about his son or something. You will be fine. Keep me updated.”

Ryujin ghosted out the door as fast as she’d come, and Chris reeled. “The nerve! I can’t believe her, can you?”

“Yes,” you nodded seriously, “I can. She’s right.”

“Oh, come on!” Chris blustered. You stood back up now, gathering your bag in the crook of your arm and straightening the carefully pressed collar of your suit jacket. 

“I don’t want to see you have to end your career so soon, Mr. Bang,” you sympathized as you pulled out a business card from your purse and handed it to him. “Again, I’ve only heard good things about you until all this. Call me if you need anything. You shouldn’t have to face this alone.”

Things settled for one day. And then Thursday morning happened. Yeji was pale as you entered the office in the morning. 

“John called from his cell.” 

You checked your watch. First period was just starting at the high school. 

God dammit. 

You jogged into your office, grabbed the phone, and dialed him back. Johnny was out of breath. “I have a situation,” he panted into the phone. You could hear shouting behind him. Specifically, you could hear Doyoung shouting behind him. God dammit. 

The tires on your car screeched as you peeled out of the parking lot of the admin building, tearing across town and barely breathing until you passed through Johnny’s office on your way into the building. He was icing his cheek with a cold pack from the nurse, his tie loose and slack around his neck and his suit jacket haphazardly slung over the back of his chair. Before you could say anything, he just shook his head with a disappointed laugh before returning to work at his computer. You walked quickly through the hallway, students watching you from their first period classrooms until you reached the music department. Taeil, the band teacher, closed Doyoung’s door behind him as he saw you in the hall. 

“Ma’am,” the teacher greeted, thoroughly exhausted, “I wouldn’t go in there. We already called a sub for the rest of the day and I took Doyoung’s kids to the library for independent study.”

“Thank you, Mr. Moon,” you thanked him graciously, “do you have any idea what happened?” Taeil shrugged helplessly. His tie was crooked as well, his rolled sleeves uneven. You looked over at Chris’ room, open to the hall. Letters had shuffled off the door and onto the hallway floor. “Take care of Doyoung,” you instructed Taeil, “make sure he’s okay and that he gets home alright.”

Taeil nodded and let himself back into Doyoung’s classroom as you carefully approached Chris’. The room was dark, books and papers strewn across the floor. You cautiously switched on the light, only to find the teacher slumped in his chair at the head of the room, icing his own face with a metal water bottle. He silently glanced at you and sighed as you rushed over to check on him. You set your purse on his desk and gingerly pulled the water bottle away, sharing Chris’ sigh as you saw the bruise on his cheek. It felt a bit gross to still find him so frustratingly handsome in this moment. 

“What happened?” You softly asked him. Chris sank into the chair and gave a dejected shrug, helpless to recollect. And he didn’t get much of a chance to even try, as a commotion erupted in the empty hallway. Doyoung stood fuming in the doorway with Taeil futilely attempting to pull him away. 

“So you are here,” Doyoung grimaced at you before he shot a glare at Taeil, “why are you lying for her? Everyone is treating me like I’m insane and I’ve had it.” He stormed over, only stopped as you turned to press a confrontational hand to his chest. Doyoung had quite the busted lip. 

“Mr. Kim, I know tensions are high—” you began staunchly before Doyoung steamrolled you. 

“Do you?! Do you even know what happened?” He leaned to the side, staring daggers into Chris. “Tell her, you sorry excuse of a—“

“I’m telling you, Kim, just like I have been telling you,” Chris glowered, “I have no fucking clue what you’re talking about! You’re the one who came in here looking to start a fight.”

“You’re a goddamn liar!” Doyoung shouted. You put your hands on his shoulders, making him look at you. 

“Tell me, then, Mr. Kim.”

Doyoung shiftily looked back and forth between the two of you. “Tell you what, ma’am?” he grumbled. “Tell you that I had the joy of overhearing one of my brightest students talking with her friends during zero period, bragging about fucking in his practice room? Tell you that she’s just a freshman? Tell you that I caught her and her friends giggling as she wrote her own fucking letter?” 

Doyoung pulled a crumpled piece of notebook paper out of his suit jacket and shoved it into your hands. You looked back at Chris, his shaking eyes horrified as he was apparently hearing this all for the first time. 

“I admit, I took matters into my own hands. I flew off the handle. Why, though, would I come to you with all this first, ma’am?” Doyoung pleaded. You recognized the helpless heartache in his eyes, hating how much he was losing his students. “You wouldn’t come to me first if I asked for your help. You’d go straight to him.”

You glanced down at the notebook paper in your hands, catching glimpses of curly, naive confessions, and you looked back at Chris again. He didn’t look guilty. You didn’t want him to be. You wanted this all resolved, as cleanly as possible before you possibly wrecked the year before winter break. You thought fast. 

“I did go to him first, Mr. Kim,” you conceded, quiet yet confident, “and I apologize if my actions come across as selfish, but this ordeal has caused quite the strain on mine and Chris’ relationship, even more so since it’s still fairly new.”

Doyoung backed up, aghast as his eyes flicked between the two of you again. His normally soft gaze was pure hellfire. “You’re kidding me,” he shook his head in disbelief. He had no interest in waiting for a confirmation before he turned to storm off, herding Taeil along with him. 

Chris was staring at you when you turned back to face him, shocked as he was at your sudden plan. “Why the hell did you do that?” 

You pulled out your phone to dial Ryujin, but before you actually sent the call through, you bored your eyes into Chris, who was still wincing past the bruise on his face. “You still didn’t do anything?”

“Never,” he adamantly shook his head. 

“Good,” you nodded. “We will need to talk before the PTA meeting tonight. My assistant will call you with details.” You plucked your purse up from his desk and shouldered it. Chris watched, still stunned as you made for the door. His continued stare made you pause, a hand on the door frame as you turned back to face him. “You’re innocent,” you explained, “but if you quit you’ll be proving everyone who’s doubting you right. It seems like no one is on your side except me, so if no one will do anything then I will. You’ll be fine, Mr. Bang.” With that, you regained your confidence once more to walk down the hall. You caught your breath before you tapped out a message for Ryujin on your phone. Somehow, you didn’t expect her to call you right away. 

“I’m sorry, but you what?!” Ryujin exclaimed, stooping you in your tracks from wherever she was. 

“You said he needs to find someone and make it look real!” You hissed, trying to keep your composure the best you could in the quiet hallway. 

“I didn’t mean you!”

You grumbled out a curse under your breath. “Well, it’s a bit too late for that clarification,” you bit out, “so what do I do now?”

Ryujin could be heard tapping on her cell phone as she spoke to you. “I’m on it,” she assured you, “and I’m sure you already figured you need to talk before the PTA meeting tonight. We need to make sure you’re on the same page. I’m forwarding you the statement I wrote. Hang tight, I’m going to meet you at your place.”

Chris frowned at the suit laid out on top of your couch after you’d extracted it from its garment bag. Ryujin had brought it, on loan from some unnamed resource, complete with notecards of her prepared statement in the breast pocket. “Why does this also feel like proving everyone right for some reason,” he said uncomfortably. 

“What exactly is wrong?” You sighed. Chris fidgeted. He looked out of place in your apartment, his soft black hoodie and worn jeans contrasting starkly with your minimalist and meticulously organized sanctuary. His brows were furrowed with impending panic, but he looked determined. 

“I’m nervous,” he bemoaned, “tell it to me again.”

“We met over the summer at a cafe downtown,” you explained impatiently. 

“That’s so soon for someone like you to be backing up a pariah like me,” Chris laughed, almost on the verge of breakdown, apparently. He was choking down a milkshake. He’d brought you one too, of course, but when you politely refused he took it as a consolation prize. It was incredible to you that he seemed to be in such good shape for how much food he put down. Or, you realized, maybe a catastrophe of this caliber wasn’t very common for him. 

“Put on the suit, Mr. Bang,” you urged, “please?”

“Oh my god, you need to stop calling me that if we’re dating!” Chan nervously laughed again.

“Look, I’ll be just fine, I’ll be able to fix it when we’re in front of people,” you insisted, “but you need to calm down.”

“Calm down? I’m having an entire escape plan thrust upon me and I’m trying to adjust.”

“Well,” you huffed as you found yourself meeting his level, “maybe you wouldn’t need this escape plan if you didn’t take such a lax approach to teaching.”

“Excuse me?” Chris asked, blindsided by your outburst. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know what people are saying!” You doubled down in defense, squaring up against him as you impatiently folded your arms. 

“Why don’t you tell me, ma’am, what exactly people are saying about me?” Chris stood defiantly, toe to toe with you and daring you to follow through. You took the bait. 

“You know exactly what people are saying,” you challenged him, “that you refuse to take the role seriously because it’s easier that way. You give these students too much freedom, and you’re encouraging them to act out. Who needs homework? Who needs textbooks? Who needs seating charts? They call you by your first name and think you’re their best friend, that you’re one of them, only older, just like they wish they were! They live and die by your approval because you seem so cool and you don’t seem like a teacher.”

“Oh, so I don’t seem like a teacher now?” Chris scoffed. 

“They certainly don’t respect you like one,” you snapped. A deep pause coursed through you both like a cold breeze before he burst. 

“Well you sure as hell don’t respect me like one, so why the hell are you helping me?!” Chris shouted. 

“Well,” you mocked, quickly losing grip, “here I was thinking it was the right thing to do!” You heaved out a frustrated sigh, throwing your hands in the air and finally turning away as you couldn’t stand to look at him. 

However, you may have glossed over the in-progress milkshake that had been in his hands, now currently all over his hoodie and on the spotless hardwood floor of your apartment. 

“Oh, great!” Chris laughed incredulously. “I sure look like I could use the help now, Miss Assistant Superintendent. Guess I’ll put on the stupid suit so I don’t make a bigger fool out of myself at my public execution tonight.”

Your face regrettably heated up as Chris frustratedly tugged his hoodie off over his head, his shirt following right after as he fished the pressed white shirt out from within the suit jacket. He had an admittedly nice figure, his toned torso never being hinted at through his comfy wardrobe. A set of tattooed compass roses on his upper arm caught your attention, and you wished you didn’t find it attractively endearing. “I don’t know why I agreed to this,” he ranted, “no one would ever believe I’d date a stuck-up, uptight, tyrant like you.”

“The feeling is mutual,” you fumed as you turned away, not wanting to get distracted, “except no one would believe I’d ever date an arrogant ingrate like you.”

Chris could be heard pacing behind you as he buttoned the shirt, apparently pausing at your mantle over the fireplace. “I bet you were a nightmare as a student, a real grade-grubber and brown-noser,” he grumbled, now seeming to have found your framed photos of you and your friends at graduation, first from high school and then from undergrad. “I’m going to hang myself with this godawful tie— is this you?”

You rolled your eyes as you walked over and snatched his tie out of his fingers to do it yourself. He’d already deftly changed his pants while you weren’t watching. “Sure, that’s me,” you muttered, “and no, I wasn’t a nightmare, thank you very much.” You paused as you felt a shift in his silence and glanced up at him. For the first time you noticed a subtle cologne on him, a gentle musk that was miserably attractive on him and you just wanted to get this over with even faster. Chris was giving you that indecipherable look again as you fiddled with the stupid necktie. From this close, you could see a cute little dot just under his lip, a telltale spacer that more than likely usually held a lip ring and—

Oh. 

Hello, stranger. 

Chris was gravely silent as he parked in front of your apartment later that night. The PTA meeting had been a disaster, starting the moment you left to travel back to the high school, where the meetings were held in the main theater. A loaded silence had staked itself between you the whole drive, and neither of you had reviewed Ryujin’s statement whatsoever. Nonetheless, you sat and stood close enough to each other during the meeting to be clear but not obscene in what you both were implying with your proximity, and you were faithfully beside him as he approached the podium. It was difficult to ignore the hushed whispers resounding through the audience. Chris’ brazen confidence was all but gone by now, fully broken as multiple hands immediately shot up to get a word in. Chris had forged ahead, though, even as his hands tried not to tremble around his notes. Ryujin’s statement didn’t mince words, just like her. He read out how his inexperience wrongly led him to take a more casual approach to teaching, how he’d recklessly and misguidedly inspired his students to put too much trust in him. He read out what a struggle this presented for both of you, being faced with accusations of such severity, and wishing to regain the trust of the assembled teachers and parents. The hands stayed in the air, and Johnny moderated question after question and Chris adamantly confirmed again and again and again that he had done nothing except naively neglect to put a firmer stop to all this. He was the one, and not Ryujin, to say that he should have brought the letters to Johnny’s attention and not simply ignored them, hoping the situation would stop on its own. More hands kept raising. Seemingly every parent belonging to a letter on Chris’ door was here wanting personal reassurance and, subsequently, a reason from him that their children were acting out. It felt like a never ending ordeal, a constant string of hurt and confused parents needing comfort. Johnny had no words for Chris when he finally ended the meeting, putting him out of his misery. Nothing else got done on the agenda that night. He only clapped a sympathetic hand to his teacher’s shoulder. 

You tapped out what happened in a text message to Ryujin. Her diagnosis was optimistic but tough, and in your continued silence in the car, you suddenly realized you were stopped in front of your apartment. Chris was quiet, zoning out at the wheel until you nudged him.

“Ryujin says we can still do this,” you encouraged him. “Enough of the parents should believe you. We just need to make sure the students and staff do, too…. as well as the board.”

Chris leaned forward, letting his head rest against the steering wheel. “I wish they didn’t have to believe me. They’re probably stressed as hell over this. This whole thing is such shit,” he muttered. “We don’t even like each other.”

“We don’t?”

“What?” Chris sullenly chuckled. “Just because we did ages ago?”

“I mean,” you shrugged, “I remembered that pretty fondly. I thought of that kiss all summer.”

“We kissed?”

Ouch. 

You sighed. “Fine then. You’re right. We don’t like each other. You’re cocky and naive and I’m…”

“Uptight?” Chris smirked, but he shut his mouth when you clearly didn’t appreciate the jab. “I’m sorry. I do appreciate everything you’re doing, you know. I just… I’m going through it.”

“I know,” you commiserated. 

“What do we do now?” 

“There’s a board meeting next Wednesday night,” you explained. “You can accompany me to that, and that’ll take care of them. Until then, we keep up appearances at school, now that we’re exposed.”

“How are we doing that?”

“I’ll figure something out,” you reassured him. “What’ll you do now?”

“Oh, you know,” Chris laughed tiredly, “probably go pick up a taco box and try not to ruin this suit.”

You nodded in understanding as you unbuckled your seatbelt and dug around in your bag for your keys. “No hoodies, okay?”

Chris nodded, watching as you stepped out of the car and fussily smoothed your skirt back down. “Do you need me to walk you up?”

“I can manage,” you grinned softly as you pulled something out of your bag. You handed him the offending note from that morning. “I didn’t do this just because I thought you didn’t do anything. This letter is addressed to a Chris but it appears to actually be a student named Christian S.”

“Oh,” Chris grimaced, “isn’t he Superintendent Simmons’ son? I have him in fourth period. He’s one of the first chairs in Taeil’s concert band. He’s sort of… gross, sometimes, about girls. I can’t say I’m surprised, but I’m still disappointed.”

“You alright?”

“I should’ve done something,” he muttered as he sank back into his seat, still staring at the letter. 

“Don’t start with that,” you lightly admonished, “it’s not always easy to know when to interfere.”

“Thank you,” Chris said quietly. 

“Of course,” you said with a small smile. “Goodnight.”

Johnny and Doyoung did a double-take as you walked into the music department the following day at lunchtime. It only made sense to you that if Chris was trying to dress up more, you’d match him by dressing down more. Your requisite suit and heels were switched out for a simple blouse with some tailored jeans and flats. That alone was a huge step for you, considering you even refused to dress down for the annual Welcome Back picnic for the district staff every year. You felt uncomfortable despite still looking clean and poised, but leagues more approachable apparently, proven as students’ passing glances lingered on their way to the cafeteria. Johnny’s look was simply one of surprise, but Doyoung’s was nothing but bitterness. Even Chris, as he happened to prop open his classroom door when you walked down the hall, was curious to see you looking so casual and chipper as you strutted up to him with a bundle in your arms. He was surprisingly handsome, wearing a blazer over a simple t-shirt with some slim jeans and sneakers — better, but not quite there. He couldn’t help a small smile as you theatrically revealed what you had brought: his cleaned hoodie and shirt folded and draped over a bag of takeout to split. 

“Hungry?” You asked sweetly, but hopefully not overdone. A couple of students walked past, their eyes boring into you. Chris looked unfazed, took the hoodie and shirt from your hands and, with a quick look down the hall at Doyoung and Johnny, beckoned you into the classroom with a nod.

“Starving,” he answered with a grin, and even gave Johnny a cheery wave as he promptly shut the door again behind you. “What are you doing here?” He quietly asked you, the dazzling facade of confidence instantly crumbling. His panicked surprise wasn’t lost on you. 

“We need to keep up appearances like I said. It’s Friday, you’re going through a hard time, and you’re eating like you grew another stomach. I brought us something to eat,” you explained, pushing the bag into his hands. 

“You—“ Chris looked dumbfounded, eyes darting between you and the food in his hands, “— brought me lunch?”

“Yes? What else was this supposed to be? I’m your girlfriend, for all intents and purposes.” You led Chris back into his own office and helped yourself to a seat. “We also need to brush up on our relationship in case anyone asks.”

“Fine,” Chris nodded as he dug into his food. “Let’s study, then. I’m guessing you went to college right after we met, and I’m sure you taught at least a little before this.”

“Grade schoolers,” you nodded, “it was good but not for me. I never asked about your accent.”

“You did, actually. That first time, so that’s probably why you don’t remember. I grew up in Sydney, moved here before junior year in high school. Do you live by yourself? I didn’t see a roommate or any cats.”

“I live by myself,” you confirmed, “I gave up on roommates around the time I took this job. No time for pets, either. I guess I’m too uptight.” Chris winced as you continued. “Yes, I’m aware of it; I guess I’m just sensitive. Did you find a good place in the area?”

“Yeah,” Chris said thoughtfully, “cute little house. You should probably see it sometime.”

“You bought a house?!”

Chris’ ears reddened. “Yes? Again, it’s little. A couple bedrooms, a couple bathrooms. Lots of work to be done on it, but it’s all mine. Here, look.” You watched, momentarily stunned as he fished his phone out of his pocket and clicked it open. He pulled up a surprisingly adorable photo of Chris in front of a humble little house, holding what you could only assume was his dog you didn’t know he had. “Cute, right? Her name is Berry. You should meet her.”

“I’m so sorry,” you shook your head in advance, “but you could afford a house? What brought you to teaching anyway?”

“Producing was good, but not for me,” Chris meekly bit at his lip, “I always wanted to try teaching what I know, and thankfully your team brought me on while I’m still earning my degree.”

“So one day you just decided to be an educator?” You asked dubiously. 

“Didn’t you?” Chris seemed more cagey now, more defensive. 

“Sure, but maybe this explains your approach to teaching.”

Chris sighed hard and set his food down. “You know what? I knew you were bringing it back to that. Here I was thinking we were on a little better footing after last night. My approach to teaching came from thinking of what I wanted when I was these kids’ age. I wanted someone to treat me with respect and value my opinion and talk to me like an adult.”

“Right,” you nodded, “but that acceptance clearly looks like an invitation to some students.”

“An invitation to what? The other staff are always saying how closed off their students are, but they’re not like that with me. They’re proactive, they’re independent, they’re thoughtful, they’re excited to be here.”

“What about students who aren’t yours?” You challenged him with your stare. It would’ve looked better in a suit. “Your students are in love with you — some of them literally — and it makes them act out with their other teachers, even students who aren’t yours are citing you as their inspiration. Terrific and capable teachers are being defied simply because they’re not you. Admit this is easier for you than establishing and upholding boundaries.”

Chris listened, but he scoffed nonetheless. “Fine. It’s easier. I’m terrified of these kids but I want them to like me and trust me. But even if I assign them homework and treat them like they’re children, that still won’t solve how the teachers don’t trust me.”

“They will,” you impatiently assured him. 

“Even Doyoung?”

“Why do you care?!” You gave a stunned chuckle. 

“I mean he punched me in the fucking face yesterday,” Chris shrugged. “Is it true you two dated?”

You gaped at him, stunned. “Why do you care?” You repeated. Chris nonchalantly shrugged. “Are you jealous?” You were provoking him on purpose, but there was no use in pretending you weren’t disgusted with this line of questioning. 

“No! We don’t even like each other.” Chris was floundering, now facing his desk more than you. “I’m a naive and arrogant asshole and you’re an uptight ballbuster who sold out, remember?”

“Sold out?” You guffawed, standing up now. “Who the hell do you think you are?! I grew up.”

“Right, well—“ Chris barked as he got up to square off against you. “Did you grow into a stuck-up busybody who is more worried about how she looks than how she’s doing?”

Chris’ ears were burning scarlet as you bristled at his words, but he still walked you to the door as you stormed away. “That was too much. I’m sorry,” he apologized sheepishly before he opened the classroom door into the hall. 

“Go fuck yourself, Mr. Bang,” you quietly gritted out, despite your saccharine smile in case anyone was watching. “I’m helping you and then I’m never speaking to you again.”

You were right back in your suit jacket and skirt on Monday, having stewed all weekend over how much more you hated doing this with Chris now. Worse, you hated feeling like he was right. He was shamefully attractive and smart and funny and charming and as much as you hated it — he was right. Somewhere between getting your teaching degree and getting offered your job, you’d become incredibly jaded by the people around you, but not without reason. Even now, the only people who went out of their way to make sure you didn’t feel like you were some child were Ryujin and Yeji… and Chris. Doyoung had, too, which was why you had dated briefly, but now he had joined everyone else in babying you like you were bound to fail. That wasn’t even mentioning the board, made up of all men from old money who mostly seemed to hire you for humor and bragging rights. Even still, this wasn’t even mentioning Superintendent Simmons, who talked to you like he was a lion with a mouse in its paws. 

So, sure, you had reasons to be aloof around the people surrounding you, but Chris’s nagging was starting to bother you. Yes, you were leagues more organized and fastidious than you had been growing up, and you even took some solace in sprucing up your space, but you also had to recognize you were quick to do that instead of facing problems at times. It was easy to organize the kitchen for the fourth time or clean out your closet, but it wasn’t always easy to deal with adult problems. You took great pride in your appearances, because looking capable helped you feel capable, but did that mean you were? It was difficult to say, almost as difficult as deciphering Yeji’s bemused look on your way into the office on Monday. 

A gorgeous bouquet of flowers was sitting on your desk. You curiously walked over, plucking the small envelope from within the buds and gently prying it open. 

Hello Stranger,

1. Are these still your favorite color? You mentioned it years ago so I could be wrong. 

2. I’m sorry about Friday again. I know I’m a hot-head and what I did was terrible. You’re not stuck-up, and you’re not a tyrant. When I think back to that summer, I thought we were on the same page, and now you make it look so easy while I feel like I’m completely lost and failing the whole time. I appreciate you helping me. Thank you. 

A stiff sigh fell from your lips as you looked at the note in your hands, with Chris’ dumb, nice handwriting giving you a feeling you couldn’t quite place. You quickly paged Ryujin and Yeji into your office. Once both girls were sat waiting for you, it was time for the dreaded question.

“What do people think of me?” 

Both girls looked like they’d seen their lives flash before their eyes as you sat at your desk and did some quick typing. When you showed them your screen, they both gasped. There was you, all acne and unfortunate appearance choices at your high school graduation. “It’s not a loaded question,” you promised, “think of it more as a confirmation. I think I’m trying too hard to hide this person.” You gave the girl in the photo a sympathetic look. She was bright, funny, and brimming with potential — even you could see that. 

Yeji surprisingly sighed out her answer first. “The other office staff were still whispering about you when you hired me. They said you just wanted to hire other young women to look progressive.”

All three of you rolled your eyes at the sentiment before Ryujin piped up. “The board does like you… because they think you’ll do their bidding. They think you’re ruthless. The teachers think you have an iron fist. The Superintendent? Well, you know how he feels.”

A sour grimace pulled at your lips. “Why don’t I like any of that?”

“Is it because it’s not what she would want?” Yeji thoughtfully asked you as she nodded in the direction of the photo on your computer screen. You thought back to what Chris had said, about wanting to be the person he wanted around at that age. It was such a trip, thinking of what that girl would do if she saw you now. She’d give you a belligerent sneer and close herself off from you because you were a cold witch and you knew it. The girls watched as your shoulders softened, sinking into your chair as you pulled out your phone and found Chris’ number that Yeji had fetched for you. 

>>Thanks for the flowers. I’ll be by tomorrow so we can try this all again before the board meeting dinner on Wednesday. 

There were decidedly less stares as you walked down the halls of the high school again the next day when the lunch period began. You saw Johnny try to catch your attention out of the corner of your eye, but you simply waved as you passed his office. You had a sneaking suspicion it was about your outfit. As opposed to Friday’s jeans, you felt much more comfortable being more comfortable as opposed to someone you thought you should be. The pencil skirt remained, only now in a cozier dark pallet and much comfier material. The biggest changes were pairing the skirt with a soft flannel shirt and a smart pair of suede oxfords. You felt exposed in how dressed down you were again, but Chris’ surprised smile as you stood in the doorway of his classroom reassured you. He looked good, his hair moderately styled back and wearing another smart blazer over another old band tee. You could see he was even wearing chinos today, still managing to coordinate them with some worn boots not unlike the pair you used to own all those years ago. It was a good look, one that made you a bit more bashful than you had been already. 

“Hello, stranger,” you cheekily greeted from the doorway. 

“Hey,” he smiled back, motioning for you to come in. 

“Hungry?” You asked, fishing a bag out of your purse and placing it in his hands. He peered inside as you set your purse on his desk. 

“Are these—?”

“I felt so awful this weekend,” you sighed as you leaned against his desk, still unable to keep from straightening stacks of his papers, “and especially after yesterday. I couldn’t think straight so I cleaned my apartment and made you some cookies.”

“You made me cookies?” He asked incredulously before taking a bite. You could’ve sworn his eyes actually sparkled for a moment. “Alright, these are so good there’s no way you still can’t think straight.”

“You’re right,” you nodded. “Just like you were already right, about almost everything. But you left one detail out.”

“What’s that?” Chris grinned around a mouthful of cookie.

“You make it look pretty easy yourself,” you smiled softly. Chris raised an eyebrow. 

“I find that hard to believe.”

“I know you do,” you laughed, “but it’s true! You’ve already done just fine in an industry of your choosing and impulsively decided to become an educator? And you just happen to be financially smart enough to have a house already? It’s reckless but it’s admirable.”

Chris choked on the last of his cookie, his dark hair falling out of place as he composed himself. “I, er, should be up front about that.”

“About what?”

“About deciding to change directions,” Chris sighed. “I had a giant proposal on my hands. I could have had my own company and my own team, but it was a huge investment entirely depending on me and my success. I froze up. I had enough. It felt way too big. I got rid of my fancy apartment, I got rid of my suits and watches, and I just moved.” A sigh fell from Chris’ lips as he folded his arms. He couldn’t meet your imploring stare. “I wish I could do what you do,” he continued. “I want to march headfirst into every single thing no matter what people think of me.”

A surprised laugh escaped you before you could stop it. You covered your mouth as your face heated up. “I’m terrified,” you explained. “Just like you were scared to take that chance, just like you and most of us are reasonably scared of these kids — I’m terrified. I’ve worn suits to attend sports events and picnics with the staff from how terrified I am of them.”

“Well, you look really good today,” Chris beamed at you, but the distracted nuance of his gaze didn’t let it last long. You playfully sat back on his desk, trying to keep his mood up. 

“I feel good today.”

“I lied, by the way,” Chris sheepishly blurted. “I know we kissed that night. I thought about it all the time. I didn’t go out with anyone for almost a whole year, I thought about it so much. If you knew I still remembered, I would be too tempted to get distracted. But I’m getting distracted anyway, so I thought you should know. You look really good today.”

A flattered smile pulled at your lips as you reached for Chris’ hand where it rested on the desk. His hand was warm and gentle in yours and he looked up at you, silently gauging your look to see if it was alright to lean up more into your space… when your phone buzzed with a message. It was Johnny. 

>I was trying to get your attention when you came in. Simmons is here TOURING THE MUSIC DEPARTMENT. Get that time bomb out of there NOW.

But it was far too late. Superintendent Simmons could be heard talking to Doyoung in the hallway. Chris watched curiously as you whirled around just in time to catch them appearing in the open doorway.

“Yes, Mr. Kim, I’d love to hear your plans for the year but— ah, hello, dear!”

You winced at the use of the word “dear” but fought it back. “Superintendent,” you nodded cordially, “what’re you doing here?”

“I wanted to take a stroll through the department,” the older man coolly insisted, his hands in the pockets of his suit. “I also thought I could finally meet young Christopher here since I wasn’t sure if he was accompanying you to the meeting tomorrow.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Your question was stated friendly enough, even as you subtly waved a calming hand back to Chris to keep him back. 

The Superintendent shrugged. “You know how it is, dear. My son takes his class but I haven’t even met the man before. We’re certainly not exempt from being aware of current goings-on and I wanted to see who all the fuss was about.”

“Do I live up to your expectation?” Chris suddenly asked, unmistakably indignant as he came forward. 

“Seeing as my expectations were of a naive, insubordinate, carpe-diem-prescribing kid,” Simmons smirked, “then yes.”

“Excuse me, Superintendent,” you huffed sharply, “but I do not appreciate you speaking to Mr. Bang that way, first as one of my staff members and second as my partner.”

“Oh-ho!” Mr. Simmons threw his head back with a laugh. “Your partner? How unbecoming of you, dear. Now, I would normally do the professional courtesy of discussing this in private, but as you always deem it appropriate to throw a fit, I’ll do it here— you know we need to terminate Mr. Bang. Too much liability.”

A wildfire ignited behind your eyes before you quickly jumped into action. If you had a moment to spare, you would’ve considered the possible consequences. “Mr. Simmons,” you spat, “you know for a fact there are liabilities just as big, if not bigger, right under your nose, just like I know for a fact Mr. Bang is in possession of a confiscated note containing quite the insinuation that your son Christian is having a very close and troubling relationship with one of Mr. Kim’s most promising freshmen.”

You hazarded a look behind you and Chris returned it, petrified. It was a low, risky blow, but an apparently fair one as Mr. Simmons’ eyes grew wide. He stubbornly shook his head. “Christian is a smart boy who is studying hard and has no time—“

“—Christian turned 18 over the summer and wants to have as much fun as he can in high school before he goes to college,” Chris finally spoke up. “He’s said as much in class, and if I recall correctly, that girl is 14. I can show you the letter. He met her at a party that she doesn’t remember but all she knows is she is woefully in love with him. As your son’s teacher I’m a mandated reporter if I think this is an unsafe situation for either of them.”

“You want to play executioner with a man you admitted you just met? Fine,” you warned. “But just like your gossip, you’re not exempt from this, either.”

At that moment, Doyoung sheepishly poked his head into the open doorway, politely coughing to get the attention of Mr. Simmons, who was now sputtering until his face had turned red. “Mr. Superintendent,” Doyoung timidly spoke up, “perhaps you would like to come discuss those plans—“

“Fine time for you to decide to act like a teacher,” Simmons growled towards Chris, before he thrust a fat finger into your chest. “This isn’t done, dear. He’s on thin ice, and now you are, too. Let’s see how long it can hold both of you.” Superintendent Simmons turned on his heel, marching out the door past Doyoung and towards his classroom. Doyoung leaned into the room, giving you both a look that remarkably appeared to be sympathetic support. “Are you alright?” He quietly asked. 

You nodded shallowly, still a bit stunned. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Kim.” Chris was seemingly dazed as you turned to face him. “Mr. Bang, can I see you in your office?” 

Chris barely nodded himself, having gone pale during your confrontation, and Doyoung silently wished you well before closing the door behind him and trotting down the hall after the older man. You clutched onto Chris’ sleeve and pulled him into his office, guiding him in before you quietly closed the door. 

You realized you were breathing heavily, chest rising and falling hard with adrenaline as you looked behind you to check on Chris. He was staring back at you, almost shocked, even as you gently took his hand again to make sure he was alright. His fingers had turned clammy where they squeezed yours, and you shared a brief silence, recovering and staring at each other until he finally spoke up. 

“You wanted to see me, ma’am?”

“Yes, Mr. Bang,” you nodded, leaning back against the door and pulling him a little closer. You felt a bit lightheaded. “I wanted you to finish your thought from before we were rudely interrupted.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded dutifully, now cutting right to it as he followed your hand in his to press against you where you leaned against the door. His lips hesitated a mere breath away before he finally kissed you, deep and seemingly driven by every kiss he’d wanted to give you since that night years ago. You could’ve sworn you tasted cotton candy and his lip ring again, maybe even smell evergreen trees if you weren’t mistaken by his cologne. It was electric, re-energizing enough that Chris seemed to finally realize what just happened outside in his classroom. 

“Holy shit,” Chris gasped like he just came up for air. “Did I just threaten the—“

Chris’ frantic recollection persisted even as you continued to kiss him. “Did you just warn the superintendent that he is better off tending to matters closer to home in more need of his attention? Yes.”

“Holy shit, I’m going to be fired,” Chris lamented, but even still he let his lips run over your jaw, falling into you and pressing you into the door. 

“No, you’re not,” you shook your head as you cupped his face in your hands to make him look at you for a moment. “He would’ve said so. He knows this is bad and it’s going to be a pain to deal with.”

“Wait, you don’t want me to—“

“Report? You just said you should. Honestly, Mr. Kim probably would’ve already if he read the letter more closely in the first place.” You held his gaze as you led his hands around your waist and he quickly got the hint, wrapping around you and diving back into you. “Am I still a ballbuster?” You breathlessly chuckled. 

He nodded heartily as he nibbled and kissed your neck. “I love it.” Chris hesitated as he pulled away from your throat, almost asking permission as he kissed you hard against the door, his tongue hot and needy against yours as he almost knocked the breath out of you. 

“Mr. Bang—“ you gasped, and you felt him shiver in the cutest way. He seemed emboldened to let his hands get a little braver, following your hint when you led them to the waistband of your skirt, and he fumbled with your shirt as he untucked it and began unbuttoning it. It was a bizarre sensation, feeling so vulnerable to someone you hadn’t known long but had been thinking of for years, and maybe you weren’t the only one. Chris’ breath seemed to catch in his throat as he leaned back enough to see, his hungry eyes falling on you as he pulled open your shirt and became impatient for more. You gasped again as he pushed you back against the door, his strong hands now tenderly roaming down your chest and groping your breasts as he kissed you before he came back to the waist of your skirt again. His confidence seemed to be returning in full now as his hands firmly ran down your thighs to the hem of your skirt, his lips trailing down your chest and nuzzling your cleavage as he gingerly lifted it. Another gasp caught in your lungs as his fingertips wandered up your legs and paused, his trepidation even spreading to the extent that he seemed hesitant to kiss you again. You reached up to gently cup his face, his cheek warm against your palm as you tried to see what could possibly be wrong in this moment. Out there, sure, that was all understandable, but in this tiny office there was no reason for anything to be wrong. 

“Mr.—“ you began softly, instantly cutting yourself off as you realized. Oh. “Chris,” you began, more confidently now, “are you alright?”

He sighed out a small laugh before he finally kissed you again. “I am. I just missed you, is all. I’ve been thinking about you. It’s still hard to believe any of this is happening, so Mr. Bang is going to be fine for my students but I’d much prefer it if you and I are more personal than that.”

“I can do that,” you grinned, that stunted gasp from earlier finally coming back and completing as Chris finally let himself caress you under your skirt, getting as personal as you both were yearning for. His fingertips were firm but slow, purposeful as they teased the hem of your panties but continued over them to feel you between your legs, making you so aware of your heat against his hand. He smirked as you shivered at his touch, and you felt your face heat up. “Sorry,” you laughed breathlessly, “it’s been a while.”

“I couldn’t tell,” Chris assured you, finally gasping himself as you regained your mental footing and let your hand drop, trailing down his chest to get an exploratory grip on his growing erection in his pants before you brought him back to kiss you again. His muffled sighs and moans grew feverish as you teased him through his clothes, up to the moment he pressed your hips back against the closed door. You watched curiously as Chris’ lips ghosted down your chest and stomach until he was on his knees for you, dangerously close to nuzzling your damp heat until you let yourself subtly roll your hips towards his mouth. He took the cue to instantly pull the thin fabric aside, just enough that he could dip his tongue into your folds. 

Chris couldn’t take his eyes off you as he lapped you up, one hand holding your panties aside and the other clutching onto your bared thigh as you squirmed and mewled for him. Your fingers stroked back through his hair as he held you tight and hungrily licked until he just happened to hit the perfect spot. That, of course, was when he stopped, leaning away and his shiny lips pulled into a mischievous smirk. “I need you so bad,” he drawled, “I’m getting impatient.”

“You?” You giggled sarcastically. “Impatient? Impossible.”

Nevertheless, Chris rocked back onto his feet and pulled you over to his desk before he sat you on top of it, gently pulling your knees apart to step between them. “Are you sure?”

“Definitely,” you nodded. “Do it.” 

Chris grinned shyly as he unbuckled his belt and brought his pants down enough to reveal his hard cock, groaning as you brazenly grabbed his length and pumped it a few times in your hand before guiding him into you. You both gasped in tandem now as you were stretched open, and your legs quickly found purchase around his hips as he kissed you again, the faintest taste and scent of your wetness still on his lips. He filled you out unexpectedly, prodding deep into you in this angle and his girth just wide enough at the base to make you whimper each time he bottomed out. 

“God, this is so good,” Chris groaned against your lips, “you’re so good. I’ve thought of this so many times.” His groans and whispered curses were hot in your ear as he fucked you on the desk, and you were both lost in this endless moment while you both sounded like you were steadily climbing your respective peaks until you noticed his prolonged smirk. 

“What’s so funny?” You jokingly accused. 

“Nothing,” Chris shook his head with a breathless smile, “I’m just surprised. I honestly expected you to be a little more in charge.”

“Oh, am I not as dominant as you thought?” You pouted for effect, seeming to only convince him for a second before you kicked him back into his chair anyhow and willingly taking his bait. He watched, his hands clutching the armrests with intrepid excitement as you dropped onto his lap. “Is this more what you had in mind?”

“Actually, yeah,” Chris nodded hungrily as you raised your hips, just enough to pull your panties to the side and grind your soaked pussy against the head of his cock. You both sighed in pleasure at the sensation as you took your sweet time dipping his length into you just the slightest bit, your lips parted to barely kiss him the whole time you teased yourself against him. He actually waited patiently as you barely rolled your hips lower into him, even as he began to get impatient again. “Heh, hey,” Chris laughed under his breath, “aren’t you gonna—“

“Whatever happened to your lip ring?” You asked him, teasingly oblivious to his question. 

“My wha— oh, that?” Chris was almost delirious trying to rock his hips up into you. “Don’t laugh, but I didn’t think it looked very professional when I first interviewed. I already wasn’t wearing it out to events and meetings, so not wearing it to school made sense.”

“I’m not going to laugh,” you smirked as you playfully pretended you were about to kiss him over and over, your lips ghosting over his own time and time again as his cock surreptitiously tried to work deeper into you, “but that’s ridiculously funny. You’re literally still wearing your earrings, and don’t try telling me that’s different. Weren’t you waiting for something, by the way?”

“Was I waiting—? Come on, aren’t you going to…?”

“Aren’t I going to what?” You asked innocently. Chris’ head lolled back against the head of his chair in exasperation. 

“Aren’t you going to fuck me?” His question was quiet, almost as if he were shy to be saying it out loud, but he asked it nevertheless. 

“Sure,” you shrugged casually, “are you going to wear that lip ring for me sometime? I want to see if it has the same effect.”

“Anything, if you’re that easy,” Chris quipped, even as he was unable to hide the excited tremble in his voice. 

“I’m easy?” You asked, eyebrows raised as you finally sank deep onto Chris’ erection and kissed him again. His muffled groan was thick, laced with satisfaction as you began to ride him in earnest. The hot moans falling from his lips echoed your own impassioned whimpers, only growing more feverish as you angled your hips down, enabling yourself to grind your clit down against his lap. By now you were so lost in it that were thoroughly soaked through your panties you were still wearing.

“Are you sure you’re not easy?” Chris chuckled exhaustedly, even as he nuzzled against your heaving cleavage and gripped tight onto your hips. It was his turn to whimper as you desperately ran your fingers through his hair to clutch onto him as you felt your peak coming fast. Chris must’ve not been far behind, considering the way he sweetly groaned your name against your skin, as if to personally coax out your orgasm. 

The air between you was hot, static, and the way Chris held you was surprisingly affectionate. Despite how much ire and sarcasm had been slung between you previously, now you were both rendered speechless, your staccato breaths falling heavy in the spaces between your sighs and moans. Giving in to Chris didn’t feel like giving up like you had been afraid of for some reason. Reality seemed to be that he may even be quite fond of you, maybe even more than you’d previously imagined, despite how much you did or didn’t change. He obviously wanted to do more than kiss you, and now it seemed he wanted to do more than just fuck you. Chris’ fingertips dug into your hips as he thrust up against you, and you suddenly caught yourself meeting his gaze. The feeling was mutual, apparently, the blown out arousal in his eyes probably echoing your own impending orgasm slowly rising up your spine and making your head spin. He seemed to catch this as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight and pressing his lips to your throat as he pistoned his hard length deep inside you, the head dragging along your sensitive walls and daring you to cum.

So you finally did. It hit you hard, giving you barely a moment’s notice for you to grab onto Chris, wrapping your arms around his neck as your core shuddered, radiating out to your quaking thighs and trembling fingers as your heightened moans hit a fever pitch. This, of course, was the final straw for Chris, his orgasm not far behind yours as he tensed up, palms pushing flat against the small of your back as he rutted into you with a broken groan. He uttered a sharp curse under his breath, eyes squeezed shut with the force of his own climax spilling into you as you finished riding out your own on his lap. 

It felt like an eternity, wrapped around each other, faces buried in each other’s shoulders as you both fought for breath and you finally realized how cramped it was straddling Chris in his desk chair, the armrests uncomfortably digging into your legs. As if to mitigate this silent complaint you had, Chris gently began to ease you off of him as he simultaneously pulled you to him for a tiredly satisfied kiss. The bright lights in your eyes finally dulled and the imaginary cotton in your ears finally fell out, letting the sound return to normal. You could hear the low drone of the air conditioner, the muted hum of the hard drive in Chris’ laptop, the clatter of the classroom doorknob outside turning open—

Chris heard it, too, with how he bolted upright with you in his lap. You both stared at the door of his office in terror; this was no way for the assistant superintendent to be found, in post-orgasmic bliss with her legs wrapped around a teacher who was still in a heap of trouble, and you had no chance of escape. Footsteps could be heard approaching before Chris quickly pushed at your retreating knees, apparently on the same page as you when he helped you slide off his lap and under his desk. You scrambled forward to grab at his chair and wheel him close as he desperately stuffed himself back in his pants and tried to make himself presentable. A knock came at the door and Chris quickly wiped the accumulated perspiration off his brow. 

“Come in—!“ he coughed, trying to sound chipper and casual, and as if he didn’t just orgasm with you barely two minutes prior. He gave you one crazed look to make sure you were alright shoved under the desk before the door to his office gingerly opened.

“Hey—“ 

Doyoung?

“Mr. Kim!” Chris sat up a little straighter, inadvertently kicking you in your shin in the process and nearly making you curse out loud. You reflexively punched him in the knee, making him jump as he tried to appear natural. “Is everything alright?”

“What, with me? I’m fine. It’s just...” Doyoung sighed, apparently not moving from where he awkwardly stood in the doorway of the tiny office. “Was it true, what you said about the superintendent’s son?”

“It was,” Chris said solemnly. “Would you like to see the letter again?” His question was genuine, any ill feelings towards the other teacher seeming to have dissipated by now. Your ears perked up as Chris leaned forward. You could hear papers shuffled overhead. He still had it? You could hear a piece of paper being handed to Doyoung, whose sigh only multiplied. 

“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, “that’s so…”

“I know,” Chris commiserated. “Will Samantha—“

“I’ll talk to Sam,” Doyoung resolved, “but first, about the other day, I’m sorry about—“

“Mr. Kim, you don’t have to apologize,” Chris insisted, “tensions were high, you were upset, and you were protecting your student. If you’d like to help me report this I’d appreciate that. You’re a good teacher.”

“So are you, Mr. Bang,” Doyoung conceded sheepishly. “Maybe you can join me in the teacher’s lounge for lunch tomorrow.”

“I’d like that.”

You could hear the smooth heel of Doyoung’s oxford turn to leave and Chris backed up from the desk. The sigh of relief you both let out revealed that you had apparently been holding your breath. He slumped back in the chair before leaning forward to offer you an assisting hand. 

“Oh, one more thing—“

Chris snapped upright in his chair, accidentally kicking you again before his knees knocked into the top of his desk. He grinned through it as he attempted to look nonchalant again. “Yeah?”

“So,” Doyoung began stiffly, “you and her are, like… a thing?”

“Er,” Chris floundered for a second. “Yes. Why?”

“Why? Oh, I mean, it’s nothing,” Doyoung fumbled, “I meant, I guess, is it serious?”

Chris’ Adam’s apple could barely be seen bobbing with his sudden gulp from your vantage point, and you didn’t blame him. Serious? It wasn’t a stretch to imagine his ears turning beet red again. Your thighs were beginning to get sore where you were folded under the desk. “No! I mean, not yet,” Chris said, his stammer matching Doyoung’s now. “I want it to be, though. I really like her. Why?”

Your heart thudded against your ribs. You felt like such a sucker, but why did you also feel so smitten? 

“No reason,” Doyoung laughed politely. “I’m happy for you. For both of you. She looks different with you, you know? You look good together. See you later.”

The door finally clicked closed and you both waited for the classroom door to do the same before it was Chris’ turn to let out the breath he’d been holding. He sighed heavily, melting into his chair before sliding back. His gentle hand reached down to help you out from under the desk. You held his hand, his fingers warm in yours as he met your gaze. “Hello, stranger,” he grinned, “did you have fun under the desk?” Chris fussed with your clothes, helping smooth your skirt back out and buttoning your blouse back up before he realized you were staring at him. He suddenly looked concerned, sitting up as he tried to make sense of your expression.  “What? Is everything alright?”

“You want this to be serious?”

Chris almost flinched as he defensively tried to figure out your tone. He settled for getting back up from his chair and squaring up against you once again, arms folded matter-of-factly like he anticipated a confrontation. “You know what? I do.”

“This isn’t even real, Chris,” you smirked, flattered by his sincerity. “We don’t even like each other, remember?”

He let out an exasperated laugh. “Holy shit, you nearly gave me a heart attack. Go ahead, then, tell me how we aren’t real.”

“Well,” you smiled, “you haven’t asked me out, for one thing.” 

It seemed Chris finally caught up to your game. “Fine,” he sarcastically scoffed. “Would you like to go out with me some time?” 

“Sure,” you playfully shrugged with a smile. “How about now? Are you hungry?”

Chris was amused as he pulled you close into his arms. “You know what? I’m actually not.”

[dinfeanoriel]

Hypothermia

Well, well, well, look who’s back? And with a little ficlet for you wonderful people! Enjoy! 

~~~~~

Cold. 

Ice cold. 

Too cold. 

Wild’s cornflower blues snapped open the instant his body registered the sheer and sudden drop in temperature only to find his vision completely shrouded by whiteness.  

Snow, his mind helpfully supplied. 

Ice particles shimmered and sparkled, snow compacted tightly around him. Blinding him. 

He was buried..! 

Wild’s mouth opened with a gasp, inhaling what little air he could get. He carefully shifted his arms, willing himself to remain calm and think of a way out of the mess he’d somehow gotten himself into. 

Where in Hylia’s name was he? Had there been an avalanche? Last he remembered, he wasn’t exploring the mountains or any snowy regions.Then how did he end up here? 

He started clawing his way upwards, his heart beating steadily and blood pumping. The freezing temp pierced through his skin, settling into his very bones and stealing him of what warmth his body sought desperately to maintain. 

Hadn’t he been in a desert? He recalled being somewhere sandy. A lot of sand. 

An island? There might have been an ocean too. 

Taking stock of himself, Wild figured he couldn’t have been under the snow for more than a handful of minutes, maybe a little longer. He couldn’t wait to escape it either. He already longed to throw on his warmest gear and snow boots and devour the hottest meal he could whip up given his limited resources. 

“-ey!” 

Wild paused momentarily, bemusement crossing his face at the muffled voice he swore he heard calling from somewhere above. 

“-ild!”  

That was his name. Who else was there? Were they trapped to? 

A burst of determination and strength flared to life within him at the thought, pushing him to move faster and break through the surface to help whoever was there. 

“Can...ear...e?” 

He’d love to respond, give them an answer, but as of this moment, he was a little incapacitated. It took only a few seconds for him to finally dig himself to freedom. He burst out, hands slapping palm-down on the mountain of snow and eyes darting about in search of his nameless companion. It was a useless endeavour. A thick and foreboding fog covered the area he found himself in, obscuring his vision and hiding everything within a three foot radius from view. 

“Wild!” Relief coated the disembodied voice and Wild snapped his head to the right. He narrowed his eyes against the fog, piercing through until he caught sight of something...blue? “T-That you? You alright?” 

Recognition flashed in Wild’s gaze and he scrambled the rest of the way out of the snow holding him hostage, 

“C-Can you hear m-me?” The voice tried again, a tinge of worry seeping into the otherwise shuddering tone, “Sure h-hope that was y-you!” 

“Warrior?” He called, trudging heavily towards where the scarf lay. He grunted when his foot was swallowed by some loose snow, causing him to trip and almost face-plant into the cold ground. 

This...This was the reason why Wild held a profound hatred for snow. 

“Wild!” 

“Where are you?” 

“H-How should I know?” 

Wild rolled his eyes at the snarky reply. Warrior must be fine if he’s already sassing him. 

“Why aren’t you moving?” It was a good question. Warrior’s voice floated his way, carried by the bitter breeze, never once moving closer or further away. 

“C-Can’t,” Warrior responded, “Stuck.” 

“Stuck?” Wild echoed, kneeling down and curling his fingers into the fabric of the scarf he’d found. He tugged at it, surprised when it moved with hardly any resistance. He was even more surprised to find it wasn’t attached to Warrior’s person. “I found your scarf,” 

“T-Thank Hylia! Blew a-away! Thought it l-lost.” 

Wild frowned at the short, fragmented, sentences. Warrior’s voice wavered and shook from what Wild interpreted as the cold and his concern for the Knight rose. 

“Now to find you,” Wild muttered to himself, tucking the scarf safely into his pack. Thank goodness he’d kept it on him. He hastily rifled through it and flung on his warmest shirt, switching his regular boots for those fit for snow, “Keep talking!” He told Warrior, “I can pinpoint your location easier if you do!” 

“I-I’ll t-try,” Warrior answered, and Wild strained his ears to hear him. 

“How long were you calling to me?” 

“D-dunno,” Warrior trailed off and Wild’s heart skipped a beat. He might be uninjured but he’d only know for sure once he found him. Wild had no recollection of what had taken place before waking so how was he to know whether or not they’d been attacked? 

“Warrior!” Wild barked sharply. 

“A w-while?” 

“Was that a question or a statement?” Wild quipped with a faint smile, echoing the words Warrior often said to him. 

“Both,” Warrior declared with forced conviction. 

Wild blinked in confusion, “Whatever you say, Warrior,” He took a left, inching forward with caution. For all he knew, they could be on a mountain. Better safe than sorry. Wild had far too much experience in falling off cliffs and ledges. He cared little in repeating it. “Say, how are you stuck?” 

“Buried. S-snow.” Warrior said, “H-hate snow.” 

“From what I understand, you don’t have much experience with the cold or snowy regions,” Wild commented, urging Warrior to carry on their conversation. The sooner he found Warrior, the better. 

“D-don’t h-have any w-where I’m from...” Warrior partially explained. “N-not m-meant for the c-cold.” 

His stuttering was worsening, Wild observed with a troubled frown. How long had they been trapped? 

“A-already s-soaked,” Warrior added as an afterthought and Wild’s brow creased. 

“You’re already soaked?” He asked, hinting for clarification.  

“W-was.” Warrior corrected in a quiet whisper. Wild almost didn’t hear him. If it weren’t for the breeze, he most likely wouldn’t have. 

“You were already soaked.” The Hero nodded to himself, bafflement rising. “How so?” 

“G-got dunked.” 

Say what? 

Wild shook his head in frustration, cursing his fragile mind. Why couldn’t it keep a tight grasp on important information or memories and never relinquish them? 

He heaved a sigh, resigning himself to piecing together what little he knew. He did recall being near an ocean. Perhaps they were swimming and then got transported? 

That sounded right... There was a ping of familiarity when Wild thought of it. 

“Okay, okay,” He muttered to himself, forcing his way through the snow, “We can work with this.”

It was then he realized Warrior hadn’t spoken for a few seconds. 

“Warrior?” 

“S-st-still h-here...” 

Hylia’s bane but he sounded awful. A small trace of fear festered in Wild’s heart, growing gradually the longer it took for him to find his wayward companion. 

“Good, good. Can you hear me coming?” 

“Y-yeah.” 

So he was closer. Wild peered ahead and slumped with relief when he spotted green in the distance. 

“I see you!” He made his way forward, running as best he could atop the snow. A golden head lifted and Wild saw a flash of blue when their gazes locked onto one another. Worry replaced Wild’s previous fear. Warrior looked pale. Almost blue. His teeth were chattering and his body trembled violently from the unforgiving cold. He was half buried under a heavy mound of snow and Wild discovered his companion had been caught in a small avalanche. 

“H-hey, W-Wild,” Warrior weakly greeted when said Hero crashed to his knees beside him, surveying the snow and the trapped position the Knight was in. 

Flakes fluttered past them, carried by the chilling wind. Some melted immediately when they came into contact with Wild’s skin, others clung fast. 

“You look awful, Warrior,” Wild huffed, jabbing at Warrior’s typically polished looks. He was practically disheveled now. 

Warrior managed a small laugh in response, head dropping forwards almost limply, tiredly. 

“I c’n on-only i-im-imagine.” 

 Wild pursed his lips tightly together. 

Exhaustion. Fatigue. Warrior’s energy and strength were fading fast. 

He could only hope the hypothermia was only just now settling in. If worse came to worse, Wild prayed Warrior caught only a mild case of it. The only comfort he had was Warrior’s constant shivering and not-so-shallow breathing. 

“Stay with me,” Wild urged, gripping Warrior’s ice cold hand in his own. He almost snapped his arm back from the sheer frostiness of the Knight’s skin. 

“S’warm,” Warrior slurred, clutching his hand as tightly as he could. The little strength he could muster served to feed Wild’s increasing concern. His friend’s health was compromised and it would only keep declining the longer they lingered. 

“I’m going to get you out of here,” Wild promised, determination blazing in his eyes. “Then we can-” He cut off with a curse. They couldn’t teleport. Even if they were in the Hebra Mountains, as he suspected, Wild knew the sudden shock of warmth would prove detrimental to Warrior. Especially when he took into account the state he was already in. “We can find a cave,” He settled with a swallow. He hoped there was one nearby. 

Warrior hummed, cobalt blues drifting shut. 

“Hey,” Wild tapped against his cheek. Warrior’s eyes fluttered halfway open. “Don’t fall asleep on me, alright?” He tried to keep his tone light, but Wild was inwardly afraid for Warrior’s life. 

Warrior’s body certainly didn’t tolerate the cold. It didn’t help that he wasn’t wearing any clothes capable of combating the freezing temps. He was dressed in his Hero’s outfit. An outfit Wild realized was once drenched with water that had long-since frozen and now clung to Warrior’s glacial skin. 

This went from bad to worse in two seconds and Wild wasn’t appreciative of it in the least. 

Carefully shifting about, slipping from Warrior’s feeble hold, Wild quickly analyzed the miniature avalanche the Knight had gotten caught up in. He dove into work shoveling the Knight out, talking to him and drawing him into conversation. He said whatever came to mind, telling stories, sharing secrets, and coaxing Warrior into responding or describing some of his own experiences. 

It didn’t take long until Warrior was finally free. To Wild, it felt to be an eternity. The minutes that passed were excruciating and Wild could only hope Warrior’s condition didn’t suffer because of them.

“Still with me?” Wild asked, nudging the Knight. 

A groan of discomfort was his only response. 

Well, that wasn’t at all reassuring. Wild bit his lip and turned Warrior onto his back. His worry returned full-force when he caught sight of the blue tinge the Knight’s lips had taken on. His complexion resembled that of a ghost’s and his shivering was dying down. 

Alarmed, Wild quickly but carefully maneuvered the fatigued Warrior into a sitting position. The Knight, barely clinging to conscious, slumped heavily against him, head lolling. Wild sucked in a sharp breath. 

“Hey, you can’t fall asleep on me, you hear?” He sternly ordered, slapping him lightly on the cheek. 

Warrior blearily cracked his eyes open, head pillowed on Wild’s shoulder. 

“S’hard...” 

His speech was horribly butchered. Wild swallowed hard. 

Stay with me, Warrior, he inwardly pleaded. 

“We’re going to find a cave, alright?” He told Warrior, striving to keep him awake and alert. “You’re going to be fine.” 

Was he? 

Wild quashed the unwelcome thought. Where was Wind’s optimism when he needed it? Actually, where was everyone? 

Wild refrained from cursing the Goddess. Why was the group separated at a time like this? If they’d been together, Warrior would have been freed earlier.

Or others might have been trapped alongside him... 

Wild scowled, the corners of his lips curling back and teeth bared in displeasure. 

“A-alr-right?” Warrior’s raspy voice drew Wild from his thoughts back to the Knight. He looked to find Warrior watching him with a hint of concern. 

Wild gave him a tight smile. 

“Remind me which one of us is suffering hypothermia?” 

“N-not m-me,” Warrior quipped dryly in return. A wave of gratitude flooded Wild. His companion might not be fully aware, but he was still with him. He understood what was happening. His comprehension wasn’t lacking too severely, reassuring Wild that they still had time before his condition became critical. 

Warrior’s distraction helped Wild to focus and the Hero stood, drawing Warrior up with him. 

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” 

Warrior managed a small, shaky, nod of agreement. He was more than ready to go. 

Wild wrapped a strong arm around the weak Knight’s waist, drawing Warrior’s own across his shoulders and clasping his hand for comfort. It anchored him, kept him fastened in the present. 

Starting forward, Wild bit down on his lip when Warrior stumbled, knees wobbling and unstable. 

“S’cold...” 

“I know,” Wild calmly agreed, quelling his worry. If Warrior leaned further against him, unconsciously vying for the warmth emanating from WIld, he said nothing of it. “It’s probably safe if I give you a warmer shirt...maybe some boots too. I just have to make sure you don’t warm up too fast.” 

Thank goodness his Zelda was a researcher. She was well-read and knowledgeable in many fields. Not to mention that Wild had some experience but he digressed. 

Risking a break, Wild slowly lowered Warrior to take a seat on the snow and earnestly dug through his pack in search of a shirt. He found one and yanked it out. It was a struggle for Warrior to slip it on, but they managed. Wild then switched Warrior’s adventure boots with his spare snow boots. That would help to maintain the little warmth he still had. They also swapped his trousers for dry ones.

“You good?” Wild inquired once they got moving again. 

“Yeah,” Warrior drowsily replied. His coordination was still off but after a little while had passed, Wild was relieved to see some semblance of color returning to his face. 

A mild case, Wild sought to convince himself. A mild case, nothing more. 

But there was no telling how long Warrior had lied there completely vulnerable to the elements. The Hebra Mountains were harsh and unforgiving. They did not hesitate to claim the lives of those who dared to venture into them. Or, in Wild and Warrior’s case, those unfortunate to be dropped into them. 

Together, they ploughed through the knee-deep snow, ignoring the flakes striking their faces and soaking into their clothing. The fog prevented them from seeing far but they valiantly pressed on. So long as they didn’t wander too close to any cliffs, Wild deemed they were safe. 

When Warrior’s head would droop, Wild would shake him back to awareness. It wasn’t rough or startling, but enough for Warrior to snap back to attention. 

“No sleeping while walking, Warrior.” Wild said lightly, hiding his worry behind teasing words, “We’ve got to find a cave, and then you can rest.” 

“Sleepwalking,” Warrior murmured, cobalt blues owlishly blinking. He stumbled a couple of times. Wild instinctively caught him, cornflower blues full of muted alarm and regret that he couldn’t do more for Warrior than he’d already done. 

“Say what?”

“The w-word you’re l-looking for...” Warrior answered with a small stutter. It relieved Wild and he huffed out a small laugh. “S’sleepwalking.” 

“Oh, guess you’re right.” Wild agreed, if only to keep him talking. It wasn’t surprising that Warrior’s mind might be a little muddled and confused. The younger teen frowned, determination flaring to life. He needed to get Warrior out of the cold and he would. If only they could find a cave...

Warrior’s eyes fluttered again, the struggle to keep them open evident for Wild to see. His lashes would stick together longer only to be forced apart seconds later. He was striving to stay awake for Wild’s sake. 

Wild exhaled deeply, a tendril of fear coiling loosely around his heart. 

“You’re alright, Warrior, you’re alright.” He whispered with conviction. Whether it was meant to comfort himself or Warrior, he wasn’t sure. Most likely both. He only wanted to find a cave and build a fire to help his companion. 

Thank Hylia Wild was adept to surviving. He’d had to learn early on what to do if he wanted to live. His world was certainly unrelenting and dangerous but beautiful nonetheless. 

His hand was squeezed suddenly and Wild perked his head up to find Warrior wearing a minuscule smile. 

“W-we’re gonna be fine, W-Wild,” The Knight assured him and Wild’s worry seemed to melt away at the trust and belief shining in those tired eyes, “We w-won’t be taken out by a l-little snow.” 

“A little snow?” Wild parroted with a minute grin. He cocked an eyebrow, “I’d hate to see what your version of ‘a lot of snow’ would be.” 

Perhaps this was why Warrior was Captain, Wild mused to himself. He remained calm and collected even during the worst of times. He was steadfast and immovable in his beliefs. Firm and resilient. Unafraid and courageous in the face of uncertainty and danger. 

The Captain always thought ahead and worked endlessly to ensure their inventory was stocked, weapons were polished and maintained, morale never sunk, and fussed over the well-being of his companions. It was slight, barely noticeable, but Wild saw it. He heard it in Warrior’s voice when he would say something along the lines of, “Take a moment to rest, Sky. Don’t need you collapsing on us now, do we?” Or-  “Settle down, Wild! You can’t go climbing every tree to fetch whatever fruit’s caught your eye! Not to mention your leg is broken and you aren’t doing yourself any favors with your constant moving! You are out of commission until Hyrule deems otherwise!” 

To which Warrior proceeded to quietly order Hyrule not to release his new patient until Wild was absolutely fine. 

Wild saw it in how Warrior took Wind under his wing and supervised the young Sailor with a keen eye. He never let Wind out of his sight and taught him all that he knew. 

He saw it in the way Warrior would stand alongside a silent Twilight come sundown, never uttering a single word and doing nothing- a feat one would consider impossible for the restless Knight. 

He saw it in the teasing and barbed jabs the Knight would fire at Legend, purposefully provoking him and keeping the snarky Hero fired up and fueled for another adventure. 

He saw it in the way Warrior would budget their expenses to include Four’s purchases of books to read when they would settle in for the night. Sometimes, when Four had nothing to occupy his mind, the Knight would lend Four some books he’d bought supposedly for himself (Wild knew they were personally purchased by Warrior for these specific occasions). 

He saw it when Warrior would surprise Sky with a new journal, claiming it’d caught his eye in the marketplace and reminded him of the soft-spoken, mild, Hero. 

He saw it in Warrior’s efforts to boost the timid Hyrule’s confidence. The extraordinary care he put in not embarrassing him in any way or putting him on the spot. 

He saw it in the way Warrior would stealthily hoard Time’s armor and weapons, studiously polishing them until they shone brighter than the sun. Every nook, cranny, and crevice was spotless, not one centimeter left untouched. When asked why Warrior would frequently undertake such a painstaking and time-consuming task, Warrior would scoff and lecture them on the importance of preventing rust and ensuring the durability and up-keeping of weapons. 

No one called him out on his bluff. Then again, Wild figured no one really knew the true motive behind Warrior’s actions and deeds. The why. 

Wild looked to his companion. The Knight deserved recognition for all he did. They were little things but they meant so much to the Heroes. 

The Hero subconsciously tightened his grip on Warrior. 

Perhaps he could return Warrior’s kindness. 

“Say, Warrior,” 

A quiet hum answered him.  

“Once we get out of here and you’re well again, how about a duel?” 

This caught Warrior’s attention. 

“Duel?” He echoed, interest piqued. There was even a flicker of excitement in his eyes. Wild nodded, 

“Why not? I’m curious about the techniques you know.” A thought struck Wild and he snapped his fingers, “Oh! How about a trade-off? I teach you some tricks I know and you teach me a few of your own?” 

Warrior mulled it over, his mind working sluggishly. 

“Deal.” 

The wind howled all around them, their hair lashing at their cheeks and eyes. Wild valiantly ignored it while Warrior barely acknowledged it. 

Wild’s gaze darting ahead in the hopes that a cave would magically appear before them, but when had Fate ever been so kind? 

Never. 

The longer they stayed out, the more danger Warrior was in. Yes, he was warmer now thanks to Wild’s clothes, but it was only a matter of time before he was freezing again. Not to mention he was already suffering a mild case and needed to be indoors out of the snowstorm. 

Stupid Hebra Mountains. 

And while he’s at it, curse Fate. 

“Wild..?” 

“Yeah?” The younger teen glanced at his friend, noting how drawn Warrior’s features had become. He pursed his lips tightly together, stubbornly squashing his rising concern. 

“Keep talking...Helps me focus...” 

So Wild did. He told Warrior about the trouble he would get into while on his adventure. How his wolf companion would more-often-than-not scold him in his own unique way when Wild would do something the animal deemed stupid. He shared some of the precious memories he reclaimed and spoke fondly of the Champions. He recited the legends and myths he’d learned and described a handful of people he’d met. 

“From what I can remember- oh look!” Relief coated Wild’s tone when he happened to glance up and see a dark crevice in the rock face across from them, “A cave!” 

He could have celebrated. 

Lugging most of Warrior’s weight, Wild dragged them both to the tiny cave they’d miraculously found. 

“We’re safe now, Warrior,” Wild found himself saying, excitement stirring as he helped Warrior down a ways away from the entrance. The Knight all but slumped against the wall, uncaring of the cold biting into his back, “I can start a fire and you will be warm in no time!” The cheer in his voice was genuine and pure.  Warrior found himself grinning upon catching it. 

He wearily watched Wild hastily drop his pack and when he blinked, found Wild dumping an armful of wood onto the cave floor. 

Warrior did a double-take. Where in Hylia’s name did he find wood? Or did it materialize out of thin air?

The younger Hero bustled about busily, setting to work on lighting a fire. It took him a couple of minutes, but he finally set off a spark and vigorously fanned it until it became a full-fledged flame. The small fire spread until it engulfed the wood whole and blazed to life.

The warmth from it caressed Warrior’s skin and his eyes slid shut in satisfaction. He could definitely say he was not a fan of the cold or snow. 

He listened to Wild moving and shifting things and only when he felt a heavy hand settle on his shoulder did he reopen his eyes. Without a word, Wild drew Warrior’s arm across his shoulders and lifted him from the ground to lead him to the makeshift bedding spread near the fire. 

Warrior blinked. When had Wild made that? 

“It isn’t much,” Wild began, apologetic, “But it should help.” 

Warrior slipped under the blankets and reveled in the warmth they emitted. He didn’t hesitate to slowly bury himself underneath them, the solid weight more than simply comforting to him. 

Goodness but moving drained him of his remaining energy. Still, Warrior sluggishly managed to tug a pile of blankets above his shoulders and turned to face the fire. 

Wild hovered nearby, making sure he was comfortable. 

“Get some sleep, Warrior. You’ll be better by tomorrow.” He promised. 

Warrior hummed, clumsily shaking an arm free and waving his hand in the air. Wild caught it in confusion. Warrior cracked an eye open, gave him a small smile, and squeezed his hand with a faint murmur of thanks. 

Wild returned the gesture with a smile of his own before urging the Knight to rest. 

Warrior’s consciousness declined quickly afterwards, exhaustion finally catching up with him. He barely felt his hand being tucked back under the blanket but he did register the solid weight against his back and the hand on his shoulder before allowing sleep to claim him. 

~~~~

A few hours passed and the storm outside was finally dying down. Wild remained watchful, regulating Warrior’s condition and periodically checking his temperature. The Knight was no longer shivering, something Wild counted as a blessing. His temperature was slowly climbing back to normal and Wild knew he could sleep now that Warrior was recovering from his bout of hypothermia. He couldn’t bring himself to, however. 

He feared that Warrior would worsen if he wasn’t keeping an eye on him. This, Wild knew, was irrational. He was clearly recovering, but it didn’t stop him from staying up and caring for the Knight. Until Warrior was one hundred percent back to full health would Wild allow himself to relax. 

He heaved a soundless sigh, drawing one knee to his chest and curling and arm around it. He rested his chin in his hand and peered out of the entrance of the cave. He hoped the others were safe and sound and that he and Warrior would reunite with them soon. 

He found he dearly missed their company. 

Wind’s enthusiastic ramblings, Sky’s carefree smile, Legend’s clever jabs, Hyrule’s quiet observations, Time’s stalwart presence, Twilight’s agreeable company, and Four’s musings. 

It was so silent without them. So dull and dreary. 

He looked forward to being with them again. To being a part of the colorful and individualistic group. 

His thoughts were cut short by the unusual sound of something snuffling nearby. His ears twitched when they detected something panting and Wild’s head snapped up. 

“Wolfie?!” 

There was a pause followed by a relieved bark. 

A dark form appeared in the entrance, blocking out the sunlight seeping in and Wild smiled widely upon recognizing Twilight in wolf form. 

Wolfie bounded inside, changing back into a familiar Ordonian once he came close enough. 

“Wild!” Twilight’s dark eyes shone considerably when they fell on him. His gaze shifted to where Warrior lay, still bundled up and barely visible. His relief vanished. “What happened?” 

He moved to stand by Wild’s right, crouching down and looking between the two. 

“Hypothermia,” Was all Wild gave. Twilight needed no further explanation. He could hear all Wild said packed within the single word. The Ordonian turned to Warrior with an echo of concern etched into his otherwise neutral features. 

“Is he alright?” 

Wild smothered a smile when Twilight immediately tugged his fur pelt from his shoulders and tucked it around Warrior’s shoulders. 

“He’s recovering,” Wild replied, shaking his head when Twilight began to fuss over Warrior’s well-being. His ancestor prodded at the fire, checked Warrior’s temperature, ensured he was comfortable, then moved to look Wild over. 

Wild resigned himself to his fate. He knew better than to protest. 

While Twilight wasn’t quite on par with Sky- Hylia knows the Skyloftian excelled in mothering them when they fell ill or were injured- he came close. 

“The others aren’t too far away,” Twilight absentmindedly told him, “We happened to be close to one another when we were transported. You and Warrior were the only two unaccounted for.” 

Huh. Interesting. 

“Warrior was caught in an avalanche. When I found him, he was halfway buried.” Wild shuddered at the memory. What would have happened if Warrior had been completely overtaken by the avalanche? Wild might never have known and walked away, condemning Warrior to suffocate to death. 

A gentle swat was delivered to Wild’s head and the Hero yelped in indignation and startlement. He rubbed the back of his head, directing a mild glare to an unrepentant Twilight. 

“Stop that line of thinking, Wild. You know it doesn’t help.” His predecessor lightly reproached. 

Wild heaved a sigh. 

“I know...but I can’t help but wonder at the possibilities.”

“I get it, I do,” Twilight murmured with understanding, eyes dim. He settled a hand on Wild’s shoulder, “But they didn’t happen and that’s what you need to focus on.” 

Wild frowned with a shake of his head, “I could have left him. Without knowing he was there, I could have gone about my way and we wouldn’t ever know what became of him. We would have been left to speculate, but we would never have known for sure what might have happened.”  

Silence fell as both heroes looked to the dozing Warrior. A reminder that he was physically there with them. 

“Without him...” Wild began softly, “It wouldn’t be the same. I...I don’t want to imagine what it would be like for Warrior not to be there.” Just the thought disturbed him. He knew first-hand how precious moments were. Time was fleeting and the future uncertain, something he’d learned early on and wrangled with constantly. Who knew what tomorrow could bring? 

That was why it was so important to cherish the time one was given and to treasure the little things. 

“Well, we won’t have to because he’s here and I reckon by the morrow, he’ll be up and at ‘em again.” 

Twilight’s confident words and reassurance settled Wild’s nerves and troubled mind. He believed Twilight and smiled, grateful to have been given the chance to meet him.  

“Who’ll what?” A groggy voice interrupted them. Wild whipped his head round to see Warrior rolling onto his back with a groan, eyes blearily blinking open to stare at him. “Why do I feel so awful?” 

“You’re awake!” Wild brightened, completely dismissing Warrior’s question. 

“Barely,” Warrior muttered, casting an arm over his eyes, “Where’re we? What happened?” 

Wild sat back on his heels, frowning deeply.  “What do you remember?” 

There was a brief quiet as Warrior wracked his mind for any recollection of what happened last. All he could conjure were blurred and muddled memories of stumbling through a snowstorm and something about an avalanche. He faintly recalled a voice talking to him, keeping him alert and a steady presence that never once left his side. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Twilight answered for Warrior when the silence prolonged, “What does is that he is awake and most likely needs to eat.” 

Warrior lifted his arm, peering at Twilight in confusion. 

“When did you get here?” 

Twilight flashed him a grin. One Wild recognized. It was sharp and mischievous and a little daunting to see. In any other circumstance, it would be terrifying, but Wild knew it for what it was. 

“I’ve been here.” 

“What?” Warrior’s brow furrowed and his eyes rolled up to the ceiling as he tried to remember whether or not Twilight had actually been with himself and Wild. “That can’t be right...” 

Wild rolled his eyes, casting a reproachful look at Twilight. 

“Make yourself useful and fetch the others, Twi,” Wild ordered, jabbing a finger towards the mouth of the cave. 

Twilight sputtered at the skillfully crafted jab inserted in his descendant’s words. He quickly recovered, narrowing his gaze on the snickering Wild. 

Huffing to himself, Twilight trudged out of the cave into the dawn and Wild set to work on putting together a wholesome meal for Warrior as the Knight drew himself into a sitting position and hassled him for answers on what had happened.  

When the others arrived, it was to find Warrior gratefully cradling a warm bowl of soup in his hands, a blanket loosely wrapped around his form as he listened attentively to Wild’s report on what had transpired the night before. 

With the Heroes gathered together and basking in one another’s presence, Wild decidedly felt whole again. He settled between Warrior and Twilight, listening to the quiet conversations and murmurings of his companions. 

Sky was sketching away in his journal, Legend was reclined against the cave wall simply listening, Four was sitting cross-legged beside a chattering Wind with a small smile, Hyrule was reorganizing his pack, and Time was subtly keeping his eye trained on Warrior. 

This was how the Heroes often spent their evenings. 

Wild didn’t think he’d ever felt more at home than he did now. Nudging Warrior’s side, Wild leaned close and whispered a reminder to him,   

“Don’t forget you promised me a duel.” 

The Knight grinned, flicking his spoon in Wild’s direction, “Now that I remember.” 

Wild laughed with another roll of his eyes, “Of course you do.” 

Wild was glad he’d been with Warrior when they were suddenly transported. He didn’t want to think of what might have happened. The what-ifs were banished from his mind, his sole focus being that Warrior was here in the flesh with no plans of leaving them soon. 

Wild would ensure he didn’t.  And when next Warrior took stock of inventory, he would find bottles upon bottles of cold-resistant potions. Wild figured it’d be fine. 

[thebiasrekkers]

Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]

Plot: “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | Mafia!AU | Crime!AU | Angst | Romance/Fluff | Smut

Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC

Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Slow Burn, Smut

Previous Chapters: Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || Admin E’s WP || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,006

Tag List: @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432, @halussali​

Chapter 39: Not Today

“Today we’ll never die. The light will pierce through the darkness.”

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Seoul – Myeongdong; Jung District South Korea

It was the calm before the storm.

Hoseok could feel it in his bones to the point where he swore that they creaked with each step he took. He barely heard what Namjoon was telling him as they approached the large building in downtown Myeongdong. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince him to change his mind; to postpone this meeting for another day. Or if it was something else entirely. Hoseok was only vaguely aware of the noises on the streets as they passed pedestrians on the path to their destination.

There was too much simmering beneath the surface for him to focus on anything outside of reaching his destination.

When he’d received the call from Taehyung a couple of days ago, Hoseok knew it was time for him to make his move. Yoongi falling ill and being hospitalized, even for a day, should have been the metaphorical straw that broke the camel’s back. Truth be told, Hoseok was in and out of meetings for most of the days during the week and had little time to spare outside of his business practices. Things were starting to look good. Things were finally beginning to take a positive turn, just as they planned.

Even with the instances that the Jade Fangs did show up, they were minor inconveniences at most. Hoseok was made aware of the slight against Eden, Jungkook’s girlfriend. He offered to have her monitored, but at Jungkook’s behest, he didn’t follow through. Eden was apparently a woman who valued her personal life and her privacy. The last thing she wanted was anyone shadowing her unnecessarily, even if it was for her own protection. From what he was told, Eden was also a woman who could more than handle herself if it came to a rough and tumble fight.

Hoseok did not pull his eyes back from Raelyn, even if she was seeing Taehyung now. There was always the chance that something could happen and at a moment when everyone least expected it. If she were ever made aware of it, he would apologize for it later. In this case, it was better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.

Old habits die hard, as they say…

Feet shuffled to a halt as he stood in front of the large building, Namjoon at his side. The two of them looked up at the high-rise, the sun already sinking beyond the horizon and down below the tree lines. The twilight hour was upon them and the world was still just as busy buzzing with life. As it would continue to do for many days to come.

Clearing his throat, he began to move forward – approaching the sliding glass doors. “Let’s go,” he said just as the doors opened to grant them entrance.

Two security guards approached them from either side, causing the two men to stop in the main lobby. Hoseok lofted a brow at each of them and Namjoon shuffled just a little bit closer to him. His tan trench coat hung off his shoulders while he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his pin-striped slacks. Lifting one hand from the pocket, he undid the button on the matching suit jacket as he slid his aviators off his face.

“Im Changkyun is expecting me,” came his even reply as he put the shades into the inner pocket of his jacket, “so be good boys and step aside.”

Hoseok didn’t bother hiding his irritation. He wanted it known that this wasn’t some pleasant little business meeting or a check-in visit. This was nothing of the sort.

This…was personal.

A phone rang at the secretary’s desk, snapping her out of her momentary trance at the small incident that was stirring in the lobby. The two security guards continued to block Hoseok’s path, but then the woman quickly stood from her seat and bowed before hanging up the phone. She clapped her hands to get the guards’ attention.

“Chairman Im said to let them through.”

The guards stood there a little while longer before finally stepping to the side, giving both Hoseok and Namjoon a clear path. They approached the desk where the young woman handed Hoseok a keycard. She bowed in apologies before pointing to the corridor off to the right.

“If you take that hallway, there are sets of elevators. The key card will give you access to the Chairman’s office on the top floor.”

Hoseok flashed her a polite grin, waving the card at her clamped between his fingers. “Thank you.”

And without so much as a second glance, he began heading toward the hallway. Namjoon followed behind him, making sure that the two security guards weren’t intent on doing something stupid. Hoseok didn’t see his friend visibly relax until they were alone in the elevator.

He slid the keycard through the card reader, waiting for the elevator to begin lifting them from the ground floor. When it jerked slightly upon its initial ascent was when Namjoon finally spoke.

“Hoseok-ah? Do you think—”

“Don’t, Namjoon-ah,” he interrupted, staring ahead at their muddied reflections on the elevator’s stainless-steel doors, “not now.”

“We didn’t even discuss this with the others.”

There was concern in Namjoon’s voice, which was well-warranted. It was rare for Hoseok to go rogue. When he did, it was usually something small. He never made moves like this without discussing it with the others first. Seokjin always made it a point to ensure that everyone was on the same page so that none of them could get blind-sided. Strategizing and prioritizing situations before others was what helped the Golden Jackals climb up the ladder of success so quickly. Impulsivity had no place in their lives back then and it shouldn’t have now.

However, this time, Hoseok wanted to be selfish. He’d earned the right to be selfish. He deserved and had every right to be as livid as he was at that moment. Anyone who tried to tell him otherwise was delusional.

“This doesn’t concern them right now.” He cast a sidelong glance to Namjoon, brows furrowing deeply. “Honestly, I don’t even like that you’re with me. You should have stayed in the car like I told you to.”

Namjoon blinked at him, clearly jarred by his words. Or that he’d suddenly grown a second head. “You thought you’d just waltz into Im Changkyun’s business office alone, huh?” He snorted. “Yeah, no. Jin Hyung would have my head and I’m a pretty big fan of it staying attached to my neck.”

Hoseok grinned. “That’s not like you, Namjoon-ah. You’re usually the first one to show your guts.”

“Yeah, well that was then. This is now.”

The elevator dinged softly as they reached their destination. The steel doors slid open slowly, revealing a long hallway with a black and red carpet leading from the elevator to a pair of double doors at the very end of the long stretch. There was someone standing just outside the door, but they were too far away to be made out easily.

Hoseok stepped out and strode forward, Namjoon matching his pace. The closer they got to the end of the hallway, the more the person’s face standing just outside the door came into view. When they were only a couple of yards away, they could now tell it was Shownu. He looked between the two of them, a satisfied smirk etching his features. Hoseok peered up at the man who was older and slightly taller than him. His image from five years ago overlapped his current one and a phantom ache throbbed at Hoseok’s side from when he’d been kicked by the man in the rainstorm.

Shownu politely stood away from the door, gesturing toward it. “He’s waiting for you, Jung Hoseok.”

He nodded, casting his gaze over toward Namjoon. “Wait here.”

Namjoon looked like he was about to protest, but then Shownu placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Let’s get a drink, hm? I’m sure they’re going to have a lot to discuss.”

Again, Namjoon looked reticent. But Hoseok nodded, his earlier expression dissolving into a softer one. He saw his friend blink in surprise. He could only imagine what his face looked like, but it probably reflected an old version of himself he hadn’t shown in quite some time. After a moment, he watched Namjoon sigh before nodding.

“If you need anything, call me.”

Hoseok nodded again. “I will.”

He waited, watching the two men make their way back down the hall. Shownu turned off to the left, entering a room and Namjoon followed. But not before he met his gaze one more time. Hoseok took a breath, promising to apologize to Namjoon later, and opened the doors.

The interior of the office was what Hoseok would have expected. Pristine. Clean. Modern. There was the traditional name plate sitting on top of a black polished desk made of expensive and imported wood. The marbling on the floor was flawless and the furniture held a business design with sectionals surrounding a glass and metal coffee table. Elegant art pieces decorated the walls and off to the right was a large window that overlooked the entire downtown area of Myeongdong from hundreds of feet in the air. A wet bar was situated near the small nook near the back.

Hoseok wasn’t impressed, however. This was to be expected of Im Changkyun, the Wolf of the Jade Fangs. He hadn’t climbed up in the ranks and obtained his title of “leader” if he wasn’t capable of this level of eloquence and prestige. His ambition suited his taste in decorating.

Instead of stepping further inside, he remained near the entrance as the doors closed behind him. Changkyun was seated at his desk, immersed in a book of some sort. The computer monitor was situated, visually, to Hoseok’s right. When their eyes met, Hoseok didn’t smile even though Changkyun did.

“Oh, Hoseok Hyung,” he said, closing the book and sliding it just to the side of him, “welcome. I’ll admit, I was a little surprised when I received your call. It’s not often you take the time to come visit me.”

Hoseok heard the bitter edge to the statement but made no effort to acknowledge it. He gave a slight shrug, remaining where he was until he saw Changkyun slowly rising from his plush leather chair. The wheels shifted along the marble floor and it was in that moment that Hoseok reached behind him to turn the deadbolt on the door – synchronizing it to match the sound of the chair’s movements.

“Your boys have been paying mine little visits here and there,” he said, stepping away from the door, “I figured that I should return the favor.”

Changkyun flashed an open-mouthed grin. “Ah, yes. Yes, they have.” He reached up to brush his dark hair out of his eyes. “Is that the reason for this, Hyung? Are the boys getting in your way?”

Hoseok scoffed. “Hardly.”

“Hmm, well that’s no good. I was hoping that was why.”

Slowly, Hoseok made his way to the left of the sectionals in the center of the office. “Because?”

“Because I’m still trying to figure you out, Hyung. I have questions and you haven’t answered them all yet.”

Changkyun’s words didn’t match his expression. Instead of looking inquisitive, he had the look of a man who appeared to have already won the game. It was a look that Hoseok remembered from many years ago – before the Golden Jackals were formed. Before they truly began to understand what the criminal underworld really looked like.

Before Im Changkyun killed the previous leader of the Jade Fangs in cold blood.

“Then let me give them to you.”

Hoseok’s body moved in a blur – matching the speed of his youth which was fueled by his anger alone. He knew he wasn’t in his twenties anymore. He hadn’t been fighting every day like he had years ago when his brothers and he first arrived in Seoul. Their lives were harder, but they were much simpler back then. When they were happier and driven to reach a future they could all obtain together.

He tapped into that feeling and rushed Changkyun’s desk – his trench coat flying off his shoulders and landing on the ground just as he went airborne. Just like that rainy night five years ago, during the gang war on the streets of Gangnam, he watched Changkyun’s smug look melt away as sudden realization washed over him instead. Hoseok cleared the chair at the head of the coffee table and landed on Changkyun’s desk in a crouch.

Jerking his right arm, the switch blade slid from the sleeve of his jacket and landed in his hand. He flicked the blade free, aiming straight for Changkyun’s neck. However, he knew that this wouldn’t be enough for the leader of the Jade Fangs. There was a reason he’d earned the nickname Wolf all those years ago. And it was because of his primal instincts.

Those very instincts came into play as he reached up to catch Hoseok’s wrist. Changkyun tried to pull his arm away from his body, attempting to keep the blade as far from his neck as possible. But just like Changkyun earned his moniker, so had Hoseok. The Death Claw didn’t back down from a fight because he’d looked The Grim Reaper in his face and spit in it.

Hoseok used his free hand to grab at his wrist, fingers locking over Changkyun’s and then pushing his weight forward. What distance was gained was soon minimized as Hoseok leaned in, the tip of the knife moving up and casting a shadow over Changkyun’s face. If he wouldn’t let him take his throat, he would jam the blade straight into his eye socket.

“H-Hyung,” growled Changkyun through clenched teeth as he glared up at Hoseok, “what do you think you’re doing?”

He could feel his arms trembling with the amount of force he was exerting. Changkyun was putting in just as much effort, causing a horrible stalemate that was on the verge of fracturing. The odds evened out as Hoseok watched him reaching up with his free hand to brace against his own wrist – mimicking each other.

“What does it look like?” Hoseok replied, his eyes narrowing darkly, “I’m answering your questions.”

He watched him blinking up at him in confusion. He was a young man Hoseok once believed to be full of potential and drive. Someone Hoseok admired years ago. Before he discovered the depth of his said ambition.

Silence stretched between them, neither of them easing off their stance or their grips. Hoseok felt a bead of sweat slip down his temple just as he saw one sliding down to drip from Changkyun’s chin. There were the occasional grunting sounds as one attempted to overpower the other, but outside of that, no words were spoken.

Changkyun finally let out a choked-out scoff, bitter disappointment evident on his features. Yet he smirked, regardless. “So, this is your answer, Hyung?”

Hoseok mirrored his gaze. “Yes, Changkyun-ah, it is.”

Something passed over the younger man’s face. But it was so brief, Hoseok couldn’t place it. At least not then.

“That’s a shame, Hoseok Hyung. A real shame.” He let out a shaky breath. “But if this is your answer, then I guess I have no choice but to continue the game without you.”

And then he moved faster than Hoseok could have anticipated. He released his hold and Hoseok felt all his weight collapsing forward. The blade nicked Changkyun’s cheek, but it was a sacrifice he willingly made. Hoseok realized this when he saw knuckles sailing toward his face. He pivoted in mid-air, changing his trajectory and his shoulder landed hard on the desk. Changkyun moved to elbow-drop him, but Hoseok whirled his legs into the air to block the assault, slamming his knee into Changkyun’s shoulder before rolling completely off the desk.

However, as he landed on the marble flooring, he felt pain exploding across his back and causing him to stumble forward. He quickly pivoted on his heels just as he saw Changkyun lowering his arm from where he’d had it extended – noting that his punch had, in fact, successfully connected. The two of them heaved, inhaling a lungful of air. Hoseok reached up to dab at the sweat on his brow with the back of his wrist.

A full minute passed before both men lowered their stances, silently agreeing that this discussion was at its conclusion. Hoseok turned to head toward the entrance, scooping up his trench coat along the way. Just as he made to unlatch the doors to the office, he heard Changkyun popping his neck before a breathy chuckle escaped.

“You’ve made yourself clear. So now I’m going to make myself clear.”

Pausing, Hoseok turned to look back at the leader of the Jade Fangs. But he chose to say nothing. Changkyun continued.

“What I do from this moment on, you no longer play a factor into it. What happens after today is a result of the answer you’ve given me. And I’m going to make good on it.”

Hoseok scoffed. “Is that right?” He rolled his eyes, unlatching the door. “We’re done playing this game with you. Do what you want.”

The grin that Changkyun gave him was the most wolfish he’d ever seen and it caused his spine to lock up uncomfortably, even for just a moment.

“Oh, I will. Trust me.” He folded his arms across his chest. “Just remember that it’s nothing personal, Jung Hoseok.”

Dropping the honorific was expected. Hoseok wasn’t surprised. So, instead of giving it credence, he simply exited the office and slammed the doors behind him. He needed to breathe. He needed air. So, for now, he would simply text Namjoon to come out when he was ready and that he’d be waiting in the car.

After he vomited his anger into a nearby bush somewhere.

[radiantseraphina]

@command-el  Your post with your OC going to Elise for love advice was so adorable that it inspired me to think about how Elise finally confessed her love to Bikaia, the most oblivious man ever born. I think this also serves as proof that I ought to be writing regency romance or something instead of fantasy YA novels set around colleges.

Elise crouched along the riverbank, half-hidden by trees, and carefully reached for the pile of discarded clothes before her. Her eyes darted towards the lake and—more pertinently—at the place where her lord had disappeared. King Bikaia emerged a few moments later, his skin sparkling with diamond-like drops of lake-water. Most Dreamlanders didn’t swim, and the few who did were poor countrymen and women. Bikaia was the exception. And like most of the few people who swam, Bikaia swam only in his trousers. The first time Elise had stumbled upon him by accident. This was the second time she’d found him swimming.

  It wasn’t an accident.

 Had anyone asked, Elise would have insisted that she appropriately kept her eyes at the back of her king’s head and that she most definitely wasn’t taking in the shapes of his body and the scars he’d patiently and softly explained when Elise, having never seen a royal man’s bare torso—much less one with scars—had gasped. Her face had flushed with embarrassment, and she’d stumbled over her apologies. Her lord had been so gracious.

 He told her about the small scar at the base of his spine, so small and faint that Elise hadn’t seen it even after Bikaia pointed it out. Elise wondered if the scar was even really there or just something that Bikaia felt and imagined was there. After being enslaved by the wizard Necrodeus, Bikaia had tried stabbing his captor, and after his attempt failed to incapacitate the wizard, Necrodeus had taken a dagger and sliced across the base of Bikaia’s spine. The dagger had been cursed or poisoned, leaving a wound that made Bikaia feverish and delirious for a week or more. Bikaia had sounded so ashamed of that scar, as if he were somehow to blame for his own imprisonment and torture. And his soft admission that he’d stopped fighting as hard after that because he’d feared being hurt had broken Elise’s heart.

 And there was the small, clustering of scars near his collarbone, where Dark Matter Swordsman had shattered his clavicle, and Bikaia’s scream of pain had sent Galacta Knight, so calm and even-tempered, into a rage so terrible that the knight had nearly become Galacta Knight Soul. After the swordsman’s defeat, Galacta Knight had swept to Bikaia’s side and held him in her arms and petted his hair. Goddess, Bikaia’s heart ached so badly for Galacta Knight and the tender way she’d always treated him.

  There was the small star-shaped branding over Bikaia’s right hip. It was a wound left by Zero, one that had taken so long to heal and one that might have never healed were it not for Galacta Knight’s knowledge of medicine. And after Zero was defeated, the Kingdom of Traumwald rose from the ashes of her ravaged tribes, and Bikaia became their first ally.

  And there was a tiny scar on Bikaia’s shoulder, left by Zero-Two. It had been a cursed wound, and Bikaia might have bled out if a Patchlandic knight and a Traumwaldian sorceress hadn’t pulled him from the battlefield, sewn the wound closed, and cleansed it before returning Bikaia, exhausted and hungry and thirsty, once more to battle. In the end, Bikaia had emerged victorious as he always did, but his dreams were haunted for years thereafter.

  And Bikaia’s abdominal muscles were still bruised and branded from his battles with Galacta Knight, with Landia, and then, with Dark Nebula. Noble Bikaia, who had fought so hard for Dreamland’s peace and would forever bear the marks of that. Most of Bikaia’s smiles seemed forced after that, and persistent, dark circles had taken up residence beneath his eyes. Although Elise hadn’t mentioned it, she remembered being imprisoned in her own mind, and she remembered Bikaia on his knees begging to take her place as Dark Nebula’s host. Elise remembered, too, all the other degrading things Dark Nebula had considered making Bikaia do, just to see how much he was willing to do to save an innocent person.

 Unlike some, Elise didn’t think Bikaia’s suffering made him some tortured, romantic hero. She didn’t even think that Bikaia’s suffering had made him a better man or even a man in need of being healed. But Elise thought he was very brave to fight for Dreamland like he did, and she thought he must be lonely. And maybe, while she could never cure or fully understand her dear lord’s trauma, she could be someone who could listen.

  When his sad, winter-blue eyes met hers, Elise wondered how it had taken her so long to realize just how handsome her lord was. “Elise!” Bikaia exclaimed, the name barely distinguishable with the force of his laughter.

  He so seldom laughed anymore.

  Elise sat, adjusting the skirts of her pale blue dress to reveal a tiny sliver of her calf over the top of her boots. “Didn’t I warn ya that some lovestruck maiden was gonna steal your clothes if you kept goin’ on these morning swims, Your Majesty?” she asked.

  Bikaia pulled himself up and let his forearms rest on the grassy bank; the rest of him remained in the water. Elise may have given him a rather indecent look, even though she could see very little with him positioned like that. “You did, indeed, warn me,” Bikaia replied.

  “D’you also recall you sayin’ that you’d prolly have to pay that maiden some favor to keep from losin’ all yer dignity and traipsin’ back to the castle in only your trousers?” Elise asked.

  And Elise would definitely derive no enjoyment from watching that. None whatsoever.

  Bikaia offered the merest hint of smile; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I may have also said that, yes,” he conceded.

  “Y’did say it,” Elise assured him.

  “Ah,” Bikaia said, his smile a little more genuine. “I suppose that means I’m at your mercy, then. Please, be gentle with me, Elise. I beg you show restraint with your request.”

  “My papa’s been on me about this marriage business,” Elise said. “Y’know I’m gettin’ to that unsellable age, Your Majesty.”

  Bikaia nodded thoughtfully, never casting any judgment. “You wish for me to arrange a match for you, then?” he asked. “Have you spoken to your father about this?”

  “My father is very indulgent and enlightened, but I think he’s…well, he kinda doubts that the object of my affections is gonna return mine.”

  Bikaia looked almost comically offended. “Really? I can scarcely imagine a man who wouldn’t love you,” he said.

  Elise laughed. “We both know that ain’t true, Your Majesty.”

  “You’re quite right. A cowardly man might be threatened by you,” Bikaia said, “But I doubt you’d ever be interested in such a foul creature.”

  “Yer very kind, Your Majesty,” Elise said.

  “Only because Galacta Knight taught me how to be,” Bikaia said. “She was the noblest woman I’ve ever met. And I would consider myself Goddess-blessed if even a fragment of her many virtues was present in me.”

  “I think—no, I know—we can see more than a fragment of it,” Elise said.

  Bikaia’s eyes seemed to brighten a bit. “Thank you. Who did you have in mind for your engagement?” he asked. “I’ll certainly arrange it if I can.”

  Nova’s grace, had there ever been such a thoughtful, lovely man?

  “Well, I wanna marry someone who’ll let me rule at their side. I ain’t willin’ to just sit back an’ do nothin’. And my papa’s been considering Prince Elden of Seventopia for me,” Elise said, “An’ I told ‘im I’ve got my eyes on a greater prize.”

  Despite Bikaia’s enthusiasm for championing women, his fervor hadn’t quite influenced the monarchy of Seventopia, but Prince Eldin cared enough about his reputation and was politically savvy enough to be kind to a wife, especially if maltreatment risked drawing Bikaia’s ire. Marrying him was a good choice for Elise. He was about her age, handsome, and he could carry a conversation. He just wasn’t the man Elise really wanted.

  “So you need another prince,” Bikaia mused.

  “Yeah. Or maybe a king,” Elise replied.

  “Ah, King Larvara,” Bikaia said, nodding. “I’ve always liked him. I suppose that would make strategic sense, although I was under the impression your sister Lilith was—”

  “I ain’t interested in the king of Floralia, Your Majesty.”

  Bikaia furrowed his brow, clearly trying to puzzle out which monarch Elise desired. It really shouldn’t have been so difficult of a task, as Bikaia and Larvara were the only unmarried kings in all the realms. “You may have to be more explicit, Elise. I’m not—”

  “Dearest, there’s you.”

  She’d never called him an endearment before, and without warning, Bikaia’s mouth was against hers. Bikaia quite clearly had no experience in kissing anyone, and he seemed determined to compensate with zeal. Elise buried her hands in his hair and then trailed her fingers over his shoulders. Elise could feel her balance becoming less sure, and she really hoped she didn’t fall off the bank and into the water with Bikaia. But even that worry wasn’t quite enough to make Elise pull away.

  Eventually, Bikaia broke the kiss. His eyes were bright and his face flushed. “I haven’t even courted you yet,” he said.

  A pleasant, breathless warmth spread through Elise. “I ain’t gonna be happy if we go back an’ you spend months smilin’ at me ‘cross rooms and chastely kissing my hand,” Elise said, “And I ain’t gonna be happy with you runnin’ off and goin’ on quests in my name. I want you to pledge yerself to me now, Bikaia.”

  It was only the second time she’d ever addressed him by his name, and Bikaia blossomed as if caught in some profound spell cast by those three syllables. His face softened and glowed; color rose to his cheeks. “Nothing would make me happier,” Bikaia said. “I promise I’ll be a good, faithful husband, and I’ll treat you well. Very well. Magnificently well. Better than any husband has ever treated his wife!”

  As if Elise would have ever believed otherwise.