#I saw one (1) person on my dash do theirs and have decided this means it's officially art v artist season now

[dkettchen]

art v artist 2024

[egyptsblackrose]

Dancing with Strangers

This is by far the longest chapter, hopefully I’ve tied all the loose ends and come to a decent conclusion. Stay tuned fro more fics.

Part 1 - https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/648370506842701824/a-rose-by-any-other-name

Part 5 -https://egyptsblackrose.tumblr.com/post/654891313044635648/dancing-with-strangers-there-will-be-one-more-part

Part 6- The end, enjoy!

It had been eight months since your first meeting with Gojo Satoru and Kakashi Hatake. This had been the longest relationship either men had ever had, both as a three or on their own. It was also painfully clear how absolutely in love both men were with you, and you with them. The change in the three of you was as clear as day, never had anyone seen each of you so happy - is what you constantly heard from everyone you knew, and when you ran into a friend or relative of theirs… with a few exceptions.

The truth had come out about a month in that Gojo was the one with all the money. A ‘representative of his household’ had come to the apartment to visit and go over ‘matters concerning the family’. Satoru had been so laid back through the whole thing, smirking mockingly at the clearly uncomfortable (stuck up) old butler. He’d grabbed your waist as you were walking towards the door to leave, pulling you down and into his lap. It became clear that he wanted to mess with the man opposite him, even Kakashi seemed in on it because he kissed you sweetly as he walked passed.

Gojo wasn’t able to hide his bitterness when the man finally left though, burying his head into your neck and hugging you tightly. His father had been a politician and his mother a CEO of a successful company, he still had connections because of them and shares that were doing incredibly well. Not to mention their life insurance had been enough to set anyone for life.

“It’s not like I was close to them to begin with.” He’d muttered in a bored manner when you’d teared up at the mention of a Satoru toddler being left alone, surrounded by people who wanted to use him for money, power and influence. The butler was a man hired by his fathers old political party and the other share holders at his mothers company. They apparently weren’t best pleased with him settling for being a small time policeman, had hoped to mould him into their puppet to keep both their money making schemes going.

To cheer the three of you up, Gojo had taken the three of you on a spontaneous trip to an Onsen that one of his friends owns, up in the middle of no where. The beautiful, traditional building with modern interior was nestled on the side of a frigging mountain that could only be reached through a thick, ancient forest.

You were the only three guests, and the workers were even excused for the evening, so it felt like you were the only three in the world with the next person been miles away. Which you were insanely grateful for. Because Kakashi and Gojo had made it a completion between them on who could make you scream the loudest.

Three months later, Kakashi had appeared out of no where behind you while you were cooking dinner, wrapping his arms round you gently and kissing your neck soothingly. “Would you join me for a day out tomorrow?”

“Of course I will,” You giggled, shivering as his lips ghosted over the marks on your neck and shoulders, drawing invisible lines like he was drawing constellations. “Where are we going?”

Hatake was silent for a moment before he squeezed you tighter. “I’m going to introduce you to my father.”

To say you were nervous was an understatement, you had agonised over the right outfit for hours the night before, asking both Miku and Sakura for their help. You should have known better, they had spent the majority of the time gushing over your boyfriends and how serious it was getting between you. After all, no one had ever heard of the two most wanted bachelors introducing their conquests to their family and friends, or even going on trips with their lovers, let alone keeping their interest this long.

Finally settling on one of your favourite outfits; something simple, comfortable and trendy, you kept your make-up light and as natural as possible and called yourself ready. Meeting at their apartment, you were surprised to see Kakashi in his policeman formal uniform. God the man looked dashing. Wearing white gloves, black dress shoes, a smart navy suit, light blue tie, hat tucked under his arm and a smirk on his handsome face.

“Enjoying the view baby?” He teased.

You nodded dumbly, bitting your lip to try hide your smirk. “Just when I thought you couldn’t get any more handsome, you have to go devastate my heart like that.”

“Maybe me and Sato should wear these tonight then.” The suggestion had your thighs clenching, suddenly it was hard to swallow. Hatake chuckled lazily having seen your reaction. “Later baby girl, for now, we have somewhere to go.”

The cemetery was the LAST place you were expecting this day to take you. Kakashi stopped at his fathers tome stone and saluted. It was at least two decades since his fathers death. Kakashi Sakumo, Hatake’s father, had been a respected police detective, and his whole inspirational drive to become a policeman. When Hatake was young, his father had led a team in a drug bust against some of the biggest names in the Yakuza, but had chosen to save his men’s lives rather than capture the villains when things had gone wrong.

The ‘failure’ was a black mark against his name, and soon his was shunned by the media, his fellow detectives and the whole police force. The abuse became so bad, that he took his own life. From then on, Hatake had lived and grown up with Gojo who he was already inseparable with.

“For the longest time…I blamed him too.” Kakashi admitted quietly, holding onto your hand like a life line. “He had a duty to take those dangerous men off the streets, to make the city a safer place for the public, for kids who were in danger of either being hooked onto drugs or joining gangs. Instead he chose to save the lives of his team.” You were silent, what could you possibly say to ease his pain? “But now…” Hatake raised his head with a proud smile. “My views have changed. He didn’t want to chase glory, he just wanted to do the right thing and save lives. In that moment, they needed him, he saw that and did his best. He was willing to die for his men, he didn’t want to see all those family’s mourning for lives he could have spared. I can only hope that one day, I will be as brave as him.”

You are not ashamed to say you cried, standing there looking at the grave of the man who had made Hatake into the man he was. Into the man you loved. You bowed deeply and gave your thanks, promising out loud to take care of his son for as long as you were allowed. Kakashi’s own eyes watered at this as he pulled you close. You don’t know how long you stood there holding each other for, but it didn’t feel like long enough. Part of you thought it would never be enough when it came to the two amazing men who looked at you like you were their whole world.

After the visit, Kakashi had taken you to the old, more traditional part of town so you could go to his favourite restaurant. The two of you were the first to arrive and the last to leave, laughing so much to the point where you were both in tears. It was so light and care free, and you could see the weight just lift off of Hatake’s shoulders.

And when you both finally made it back to their apartment, Gojo was sat on the sofa waiting. Smirking. Also in uniform. That night, not one of you slept.

With your hands locked together in cuffs and blindfold around your eyes, you shook like a leaf in the wind as Kakashi took you from behind, Gojo at your front. If it had been anyone else trying to blindfold you and tie you up, you would have absolutely said no. As it was, Kakashi loved seeing you so vulnerable. So much so that he had stretched your arse as he’d enthusiastically eaten you out, and was now taking advantage of his VERY thorough prep work. He held a vibrator to your clit as he fucked your arse, Gojo keeping your mouth open and busy as he kissed you hungrily so they could hear your moans, squeezing and playing with your tits as he took your front just as roughly.

Not only did you squirt first time, your pretty sure you blacked out for a second. Not that the boys were deterred, they knew you’d tell them if it became too much. Besides, the sounds you were making; the moans, the wet squelching from how wet you were, it was the best yet. You couldn’t walk the next day though and had to ask Miku to record your lecture.

By the fifth month, Gojo and Kakashi had broached the idea of you moving in with them. It was a casual comment made in light conversation one Sunday morning, when they FIRST brought it up. Then it was Kakashi suggesting you keep more of your things with them, mostly because you would ask them to take you back to your apartment with the girls so you could get ready for the day, meaning you would leave earlier than they would like. Eventually Gojo decided they were being too subtle and would cling to you in the mornings, begging you to not leave and to stay with them.

“You guys remember that I’m living with two roommates already right? I can’t just up and leave them like that, they won’t be able to afford rent!”

“But beautifu~l! We want you here with us!”

“What our idiot means to say baby-”

“Hey!”

“Is that, you already spend so much time here, and we love having you with us. Our apartment is even closer to your Uni building! It makes sense surely, for you to move in with us. Or for us even to find a place together-”

“Wow, ok slow down there!” You butt in quickly, cheeks turning pink. Finally the boys had had enough of dancing around the subject and had sat you down to talk about it properly. Talking about moving into their lush apartment was one thing, but talking about a place together, was something else entirely!

Gojo pouted at you in annoyance. “What, you don’t want to live with us?”

“I’m not saying that!” You defended instantly, frowning at him. “I’m saying it’s a BIG step, and I get that you guys feel ready for it, but I don’t ok? For one, five months isn’t that much time dating someone, second, I don’t even have a job yet! And don’t tell me money isn’t an issue and I don’t have to pay rent cause God help me Satoru, I will get up and leave right now.” You threatened.

“Ok you two, lets take a deep breath and talk about this calmly ok?” Hatake soothed, squeezing both your hands. “Baby, if you don’t feel ready then that’s fine, we will not force you. But please know that when you ARE ready, we WANT you here. Ok?” Nodding in understanding, you started to relax. Gojo huffed and crossed his arms, but nodded in agreement. “And about you looking for a job and paying rent. We are not trying to baby you or the like, we just want to take care of you. We know you can take care of yourself but that wont stop us from WANTING to take care of you because you are YOURS. Understand? We love and cherish you, and if we can help you, we want to. If it was us in a difficult situation and you could help us, you would, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course, in a heartbeat.” You muttered with a slight pout.

Kakashi beamed. “It’s the same in our eyes.” And that had been the end of that…for the time being that is.

Just short of the six month mark, you had agreed to go out again with the girls for a night out. Kakashi and Gojo had encouraged you to go, promising that when they were done with their shift, they would come pick you up. They had even bought you a gift voucher for your birthday to buy a new outfit. You had been sure to send the boys a flattering pic of yourself all dolled up before you had left for the night, receiving such thirsty replies that no one would guess that you had spent the night before with them.

The night had been going perfectly, once again you were the most sober of the group, which you were now used to. You had a nice buzz going, there had already been so many laughs and the girls were excitedly giggling about the stories you shared on your boyfriends. (Of course the intimate, personal things you kept to yourself.) You had been to a few bars and your group agreed to end the night at the club you had met your boys in, ‘The Ninja Shrine’. Texting the two policemen still on shift, you let them know that you and your friends had arrived safely, were going to order your drinks and you would be eagerly waiting for them for a dance.

Gojo replied with multiple winky, smirky, and red with sweat drop faces. Kakashi was the only one to give you a verbal reply, promising to be there as soon as they could, and ‘ordering’ you to behave until they arrived. It made you smile, biting your lip. ‘No promises’ was your reply with a winky face, locking your phone and ignoring the bings that followed, knowing that would rile them up more than a reply.

Despite the clear teasing, you stayed against the bar, talking and laughing with your friends as you sipped at your drink. The girls did try convince you to dance with them at one point, but you were waiting a certain pair to join you. After all, dancing with the girls was fun, but it was even better when you had certain pairs of eyes on your body.

“Oh shit,” Miku cursed, suddenly grabbing your arm and turning you away from the door.

“What the hell-?”

“Don’t turn around!” Miku earned, holding onto your shoulders. “One of your boys’s old flings is here, and trust me you don’t want anything to do with her.” Looking subtly out of the corner of your eyes, you saw a pretty strawberry blonde with soft brown eyes and a confident smirk. You could clearly see her figure through her flashy outfit, her expensive designer shoes and handbag on show like she was on the Paris run way. “She was with them for four months, her names Claire Aoki, and she’s a psycho if you ask me.” Miku continued carefully.

Before you could react, the door opened once more and in came your two boyfriends, looking like sex on legs. Gojo wore a flashy designer get up with black jeans and dress shoes, a blue shirt and a leather jacket that you knew for a fact cost more than your joint rent with the girls. Kakashi was also in black dress shoes, black dress pants, a dark grey shirt and a lighter grey silk vest. Their eyes landed on you immediately and began smiling. You smiled back, beaming when they started heading your way.

They hadn’t made it two steps before they were stopped by Claire, her red manicured-nailed hands resting on their chests as she leaned in towards them, pressing her chest into their arms. Kakashi looked panicked, eyes widening as his eyes darted up towards you, then down to her and back. Gojo’s smile shrunk, it was still there, but it looked much more forced now as his blue eyes narrowed at the other woman.

Curious, and not worried at all, you leaned back against the bar. You turned to make yourself look as relaxed as possible, replicating the same look you had the night they had pulled you away from your friends to charm the pants off of you. Your head tilted and your smile grew as their eyes kept on drifting to you. Whatever Claire was saying clearly wasn’t keeping their attention.

Your smile turned to a smirk as Beast by Mia Martina started playing, slowly pushing off the bar as you headed to the dance floor, your friends following. Closing your eyes, you let the music take you away, body rolls moving slow, deliberate. You caught their eyes by dancing for yourself, but now you knew their weaknesses, the parts of you that they loved to tease and squeeze, you knew their bodies like you knew your own. And you fully intended to use that to your advantage.

“Keep your eyes on me,” You sang, looking both men dead in the eyes, smirking as their gazes struggled to meet yours, roaming your form hungrily like they hadn’t seen you in months. “Come here right now,” You continued, your hands reaching out to them, beckoning them to you. “Cause when the sun goes down the beast comes out,” Dropping to the floor, you straightened your legs so you were bent in half, slowly coming up and curving your back as you flipped your hair back gracefully.

“Take you down, down can you keep it up all night,” Smirking, you spun slowly as you exaggerated your hip swaying, making sure they got an eye full of your behind. “You all over my skin, I’m anxious, paint my body boy’s I’ll be your canvas.” Your head snapped back, showcasing all their bruises that they left from the night before.

Next thing you knew, two sets of hands were gripping you tight, one set on your hips and another on your upper thighs. “Da~nm Beautiful!” Gojo growled lowly into your ear, your grin stretching as you giggled, Kakashi ducking his head to bite your neck. “First you ignore us, then you go and put on a show like that for anyone to see. What are you trying to do, hu? You just want us to bend you over our knees don’t you?”

“Maybe I do,” You teased. “Or maybe I’m trying to prove a point to someone who was getting too handsy with what wasn’t theirs.”

“Oh? Someone was getting jealous? As sexy as you are ‘staking your claim’, doesn’t change the fact that your going to get your punishment when we get home, beautifu~l!” Satoru teased, his hand dragging up your body till his hand was at your neck, then he squeezed.

Kakashi let out a ragged breath at your moan. “I think we should get out of here.” Pressing himself harder into you, you could feel his impatience clearly through his pants.

You dared to look around you, eyes meeting with soft brown eyes glaring daggers at you with so much hatred. You would have been scared six months ago, you would have shrunk and shied away. But how could you now when Gojo and Kakashi were stood with you, hands all over you, demanding your love and attention, making you feel so treasured and powerful.

“Kiss me first.” You demanded. Satoru didn’t even hesitate for a second, pulling you into a searing kiss full of passion and desire. You faintly heard Miku and your friends cat call and wolf whistle somewhere near the bar, causing Gojo to pull away and chuckle. The opening was all Kakashi needed. His kiss was equally breathtaking, his movements slower and more controlled, but clearly as desperate to lay claim.

When Hatake pulled away, Gojo effortlessly picked you up and threw you over his shoulder, smacking your arse when you struggled. So you smacked his right back. Again, you couldn’t walk the next day.

By the end of the eight first months, you had finally landed a job interview and was offered the job on the spot, starting small but promised promotions if your work was up to standard. Around the same time your lease on the shared apartment with your friends was up, and you had finally given into your boyfriends hints and agreed to look for a place you could all afford together. What’s more, your graduation was less than a month away. Things were finally falling into place.

You had yet to broach the subject of your relationship status with your parents, though you were pretty sure they had figured out that you were at least dating someone by this point. Admitting that you hadn’t mentioned anything to your parents, you were nervous how the boys would react. But they had simply shrugged, nodded in understanding and reminding you that if you needed their help they were here for you.

Most importantly, you had a job you were doing well in, you were moving into a beautiful home, your friends were happy and doing well in their own fields, and you had two men who loved you unconditionally. You were sure everything was going to work out just right. And with Gojo and Satoru by your side, you could over come anything.

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Cowboy - Part 2

Summary: Leaving the city for a rural area called Blayne seemed simple enough. Your task was to convince the people to agree with selling their land for a resort redevelopment. But once there, you soon realise that your city ways are entirely different to theirs. Winning their trust was going to take some effort, and when you start to fall for a local cowboy, you wonder if you really needed Blayne more than the city life after all.

Pairing: Jung Jaehyun x female reader

Genre: cowboy au / drama / romance / if you squint there’s some enemies to lovers up in here.

Warnings: Jung Jaehyun is a cowboy, need I say more? (a bit of angst and drama, and it sometimes might feel like you’re reading a Nicolas Sparks book, so I’m told lol)

Word count: 1708

This series will be updated every Thursday and Friday starting 7th January.

Preview | 1 | 2 | 3

You barely recovered before he walked off, rounding the outside of the building. Scrambling after him, you soon fell into step with the son of the household.

The incredibly attractive Jung son.

“So you’ll be able to put on the power?”

“Sure, I’ll just wind up the generator and in about three hours-”

“Generator?! Hours?!”

He laughed then, the sound making you halt in your tracks in a daze. Glancing back at you, he smirked. “You’re sure easy to fool, Miss City.”

“Well, I was expecting a teen with the way your mother spoke of you, Mr Cowboy.”

“We’re a loving bunch around here,” he answered, walking over to a box on the side of the house and patting it. “All I have to do is flick a switch, and you’ll have power.”

“Thank god.”

“Not willing to rough it even for a night?”

“Rough it?”

He smirked again. “You sure don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“So people keep telling me. I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will,” he replied, staring back at you for a moment. You raised an eyebrow, and he chuckled, pulling open the box and turning on the main switch. You saw the lights in the house you had flicked on come to life, and you clapped your hands together with glee.

“Yes!”

“Are you scared of the dark?”

“Are you always this full of yourself?” you shot back, and he grinned.

“Somewhat.”

“Anything else I need to know about so I can survive the night?”

After shutting the fuse box, he returned to your side, stuffing his hands deep into his jean pockets and leaned towards you. “You sound like high maintenance.”

“Perhaps I am.”

“You’re in for a rude awakening here then.”

“I’m adaptable,” you announced and he laughed. “What, I am!”

“This isn’t something you just get used to, Miss City. You’ll be gone before long.”

“And what will you do if I prove otherwise?” you challenged, and his eyes lit up, glinting with enjoyment.

You had to admit this banter was doing things for you too.

“There’s no point making plans for things that won’t come into fruition.”

“You’re infuriating.”

“I know, but it seems that you’re enjoying it.”

“Fine,” you stated simply, throwing your hands up. “Thank you for turning on the power, Mr Cowboy.”

“Enjoy your night, Miss City.”

You both rounded back to the front of the house, where you went to the veranda, and he approached the truck. You eyed it warily. “Is that thing legal?”

“Don’t try and use too many appliances at once. Houses like these can get overloaded, and it’ll trip the fuse and turn the power off. I’ve got cattle to run tomorrow, so you’ll be without power for some time if you do that.”

You blinked, trying to decipher if he was being serious or not. He shrugged and opened the door to the truck. “R-Really?”

“Take it on as some friendly advice.”

“Ah, is that what it is.” You nodded with a laugh as he climbed into the cab of the vehicle. Dashing down to the driver’s side, you leaned on the open window, and he watched you curiously. “Can you give me some more friendly advice?”

“Don’t open the front door. There might be coyotes howling out in the distance that you’ll have to get used to and by the hay barn, there is an old owl that likes to hoot around three in the morning. You’re welcome.”

“Wait! I was meaning more like if there’s regular mobile data service out here. I’ve got some files to-”

“You’re in the wrong place if you want to be on the internet, Miss City. I’ll give you two days out here before you head on back to your four-gee or whatever the thing is called.”

“You’re getting on my nerves.”

He grinned. “And you’re on my door stopping me from getting home to dessert, ma’am.”

Lifting your arms off, he tipped his cowboy hat at you again and started up the truck. You shook your head as he reversed down the drive before turning the vehicle around.

“Wait! I didn’t even get your real name!” you called out into the night, pouting some.

It didn’t matter. Even if he was the most handsome guy you had seen in months, he was also not your type with how easily he assumed so little of you.

Fishing out your phone, you held it up in search for a stronger signal. Groaning when there was only one bar, you stomped into the house and shut the door behind you.

When your alarm went off the following morning, you were already wide awake, staring up at the ceiling in sheer frustration. The advice you had received last night had been helpful, but what you needed was earplugs instead. You never knew the wilderness to be so loud.

“How am I going to get enough sleep here until I can order some earplugs?” you questioned to no one in particular, sitting up in the bed. You had to admit, whilst the sounds of the outdoors had kept you up, the bed had been surprisingly comfy.

There had to be some perks for being this far detached from proper civilisation.

“Might as well get up,” you decided, flinging back the blankets and padding across the hall into the quaint bathroom. You hadn’t paid a lot of attention last night to the house, too exhausted from travelling for two days. As you did your morning skincare routine, you used the mirror to look around your space. It had a cozy cottage-core vibe that you had recently seen come up as a trend on Pinterest.

“Natty loves things like this,” you told the home, smiling softly before heading downstairs to the kitchen.

The house was decorated warmly. Although many modern conveniences were missing, you couldn’t help but feel like you were in a home that was cherished.

Someone must have loved this place like that at one point in time, you thought, jumping when the phone went off again.

“Hello?”

“Miss L/N, is that you?”

“Ah, yes it is, who am I speaking to?”

“Oh! June told me that someone was staying at the old Jung house so I figured I’d give you a bell and offer you some breakfast down at the diner. You won’t miss it. We’re the first building on Main  Street.”

“That’s so kind of you to offer, but I have all the ingredients for a power green smoothie here-”

“Smoothie? Darling, a drink isn’t going to give you enough energy to get through your day.”

“Pardon?”

“Aren’t you starting your surveying job of Blayne today? There’s a lot to get through.”

Not really, you thought wickedly and bit your lip in case you said anything out loud. “Ah, right. Well, I’ll come down then.”

“Do come!” And then the line went dead.

“Who was I even speaking to?” you wondered when you placed down the phone, blinking slowly.

You got ready and headed down the bumpy drive and then another fifteen minutes until you reached what the inhabitants of this strange place called Main Street. You had to admit, it was the only area of Blayne were you saw more than two people at once, and it relaxed you to be back around people.

You hadn’t realised just how overcrowded the city was when you found yourself now missing the constant sight of people.

Once you parked your car, you got out and locked it, checking to make sure the door wouldn’t open. You heard a snigger from the sidewalk. “You’re new here.”

“Ah, yes.”

“You don’t need to lock your car here. No one is going to steal it,” the young girl said, eying you curiously. You nodded politely and walked inside the diner, instantly hit with the smell of fried food.

You were hungrier than you expected.

“Miss L/N!” a voice called, and everyone in the establishment turned to look at you.

Smiling politely and rushing over to the front counter, you sat down on a stool. The woman who greeted you smiled graciously. “I’m May.”

“May… June-”

May laughed. “Our parents weren’t all that creative with our names. I’m June’s older sister.”

“Oh! It’s nice to meet you. Please, feel free to call me Y/N.”

“Earl, can you serve up our guest the breakfast special?” May called out without taking her eyes off of you.

You smiled gently before darting your gaze to the menu distractedly. “You have a nice place here. Do you sell soy chai lattes?”

“Soy what?”

“Ah, nothing. Coffee. Coffee will do.”

“Black or white, darling? Any sugar?”

After sorting yourself with caffeine, you then glanced around again. There were about six others in total, and most of them were looking in your direction. Nodding politely at them, you turned back to May.

“I guess you don’t get many visitors.”

“They don’t stay long, no,” she replied, placing a large plate loaded with a fried assortment and pancakes. You eyed the meal. It would be triple the macros for your daily intake. Still, you were hungry.

You picked up your knife and fork. “They don’t?”

“I think the last person stayed a week. That was pretty long.”

“Only a week?” you cut into a hashbrown. “Why did they leave so soon?”

“Unless you’re a farmer or born into farming, you wouldn’t really enjoy being out here. We have only twelve stores. Nothing arrives here quickly, and you have to be pretty self-sufficient to survive. There’s not a lot calling people here.”

“There could be. I mean, you have a lot of land-”

“For farming,” May cut in, and you swallowed down a bit of hashbrown before nodding.

“Yes, but it’s beautiful and picturesque. People who want to escape the daily grind would flock to a place like this if there was an establishment to stay in.”

“Our inn hasn’t had a guest since nineteen-eighty-three. You want to know why?”

“It has a ghost story?” you asked innocently, and May merely smiled haughtily.

“The only people staying in Blayne were born and raised here, Y/N. You’ll soon realise the utopia you and your company are hoping to build out here is a pipe dream.”

_________________

Part 3

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[echo-three-one]

Whatever It Takes

A sequel to "A Forgotten Memory"

Alex is once again tasked to continue his mission in pursuing the threat that had caused hundreds of missing persons turn up dazed the next day. But now he isn't alone, join him along with the elite Task Force 141 as they hunt down Nero, discover the secrets behind his plans and put an end to this memory erasing nightmare.

Chapter 1 to another story made by Ray (echo-three-one) Comments and Reviews appreciated! I hope you enjoy! Love you all ❤️

"Resurgence"

"Alex"

CIA Warcom

Boracay Island, Philippines

Alex basked himself on the warm sandy beaches of the Philippines. He wasn't able to enjoy his vacation after the Nero mission, because he was sent immediately to Urzikstan and Verdansk immediately followed. And now that all of those were over, he now laid down on a beach chair and let the ocean breeze blow on his relaxed state.

Philippines was a nice country, the people were hospitable, the food was delicious and unique and the scenery was beyond amazing. Despite his metal leg, people still looked up at him the way they look at tourists and he was all of the hospitality and attention from his fellow Americans who are also on vacation to locals who were just amazed on how the leg works.

It's been a lot of months ever since Samantha forgot him, but he couldn't shake the feeling that they'll meet again, that's why no matter many women try to show interest in him, he shrugs them off politely by pretending he has a girlfriend. A simple lie that he built for himself in hopes of a miracle of meeting her again.

He always brought her letter with him, some edges of it got burnt from the time he manually detonated a C4 explosive to destroy a gas factory, It was almost torn and faded, but he couldn't leave it somewhere safe. He wanted it to be with him wherever he goes. 

'Don't you dare forget about me'

His phone rang. He quickly fished it from a small pouch he bought that the locals made and immediately answered.

"This is Alex speaking." he chimed.

"I'm sorry to bother you at this time of day Alex, but I have a feeling you'd want to jump in on this." a British accent so familiar informed him over the other side of the line, It was none other than Captain John Price or Bravo Six, a comrade he once fought with back in Urzikstan.

"I'm all ears." he said, sitting up straight and letting his metal leg sink in the sand.

"Looks like your boy Nero is back on the grid. That Sneaky bastard kidnapped the Daughter of the Head of Defense, again." Price relayed.

Alex's heart thumped faster, his breathing became quick. He wished to meet her again but not like this. Not her being in harm's way all over again.

"Shit. Count me in. But.." he hesitated. He wanted to help but remembered he disobeyed CIA orders back in Urzikstan, making him unable to provide support.

"I've talked to Laswell. She's creating a special assignment for you."

"What does that mean?"

"It means welcome to the 141, Alex." Price said as he cut off the call, followed by a message regarding his departure to their base.

~

Alex can't help but worry about Samantha's condition. They've played with her memories multiple times and he thought that it would all be over after she decided to alter everything about them. Guess the enemy didn't know and they're still after her.

The soldier leaned on to the small circular glass pane as he looked at the clouds pass by. His hands were fidgeting each other while his non-metal foot bounced up and down at a fast rate. His seatmate, who happens to be a teenager, noticed his distracting leg movement but ignored it as rock music blasted from his ears. He was a completely different Alex right now and he believed that he'll be back to normal as soon as he sees Samantha safe and within his grasp.

When you have a heavy metal stick as a leg, customs is going to be the most annoying place in the world. Everyone looked at Alex as soon as he passes the metal detector and everyone else's eyes were on him. Of course with a few more safety checks and a whole lot of explaining, Alex was good to go. 

"So, you're the one they call Alex" the heavily British accented driver mused, breaking the silence of their ride to the 141 base. He was looking at him via the rearview mirror, chewing on what Alex hoped to be gum.

"Yep. That's me." he replied, turning to the view of the British streets which confused him a lot as it was the opposite of American or even Global streets.

"Heard they thought you were dead back there. In Georgia." he added. He was quite the chatterbox but CIA Agents are all about the information.

"Yeah. Tried to manually detonate the C4. After that… I just ran for my life." Alex answered, his head was realizing why he did it. What pushed him to think that he could make it out alive. Was it because it's for the greater good? The idea of freeing Farah's country from the harm of the gas? The idea of a chance to meet Samantha all over again? Or something he couldn't explain.

"Well, we're glad to have you back, Alex. But it's a shame it's no longer in the CIA." the driver waved as Alex opened the door and unloaded his stuff.

"As long as it's still about saving the world." he replied, making the driver smile. 

"That's what we do, right?" he agreed as he entered in his car leaving Alex in front a quiet gray building, the Task Force 141 Base, his new home.

Alex pushed the heavy doors open revealing a large hall, multiple round sofas were embedded to the ground and a huge staircase that split left and right greeted him. Multiple heads turned as he opened the said door and slowly walked his way to the nearest person who happened to be panting from exhaustion by the sofa. His metal leg clanked on his every step as the soldiers begin to recognize him. They smiled as soon as Alex's eyes met theirs and some even waved, Alex met them from several missions from the past, some were from the Demon Dogs and his previous designations, Delta Force.

"Where's the briefing room in this huge building?" he asked the soldier in a black t shirt drenched in sweat as he spun his towel trying to keep up with his breathing. He didn't speak but he nodded in acknowledgement and pointed to the hallway on the left. Alex left him a thanks and he walked his way to the direction where he pointed.

Just a few steps after the beginning of the hallway, the people from the main hall cheered and laughed, this made Alex turn around and he saw a young blonde man with spiky hair dash across him, he looked like he's on his way to your destination as well.

"Excuse me! Sir!" he yelled and Alex immediately halted. The young man panted in front of him and took a few seconds to breathe before he countinued his words.

"I'm Gary Sanderson, and I was supposed to guide you to the briefing room. You must be Alex." he reached out a hand and Alex shook it, quietly making your way to the room.

The huge door slid open and they found themselves in a dimly lit room, a huge screen loomed just by the wall and chairs were placed around a long circular table. Alex could spot a few familiar faces, faces he once saw and fought alongside with in Verdansk. There was the balaclava boy, Ghost, the Mohawk Man, Soap, their Captain, John Price and a few big heads from the United States. There were also new faces like Gary, who was now discussing something with another new soldier, a female soldier who sat by Price and a few new more who were already sitting on the chairs. There's also someone missing, Kyle Garrick, he pondered where he was.

The former CIA quickly saw Gary rush to Price's seat and whispered something causing him to lean on his chair, stand up and walk to his side. 

"Glad to see you back in the fight, Alex." he muttered, patting Alex's shoulder.

"I won't skip out on this mission, this one's close to home." he replied, patting his back in return.

"Yeah, heard this was your last mission before the Russian Gas." 

"Yeah. It's a loose end on my side." Alex nodded, crossing his arms.

"Good thing Shepherd had some sense in him. Not unlike your CIA heads, huh?" 

Alex nodded. He remembered he did an illegal thing against the CIA, and that was siding with Farah's forces, who were reclassified as global terror groups at that time. He silently thanked he could still step back in the fight along with the good guys even after that event.

"Yeah. I might have to thank him soon enough." Alex murmured and Price guided him to the briefing which was about to start in a few minutes.

~

"Before we start our mission briefing, I'd like to welcome each and everyone of you to the 141. A group of the most elite warriors from around the world tasked to eliminate terrorist threats lurking in the shadows. One of which, goes by the name Nero…" General Shepherd's voice was deep and serious, while the screen showed a photo of the guy they're after. His face looked punchable, as manifested by the way Alex clenched his fists while he stared at his soulless eyes.

"… whose goal is still unknown. He poses a threat as he has been out in American soil, which we believe is the one behind the multiple missing and reappearing person cases across the country." he continued, eyeing Alex. He knew a little bit about the case, maybe because he read his report.

"Since he poses no evidence of terrorist activity as of now, we are assigned to rescue and locate the daughter of Richard Coleman, America's Head of National Defense. We don't know why she was kidnapped but we believed it is or ransom or threatening purposes." The general explained, pacing back and forth, his shadow covered the screen.

Alex wanted to say something. Something about the details surrounding the case. It was written on his report. But then again, maybe the general already knew about the alteration, and since Samantha doesn't remember any IP Address, it was no longer worth noting.

Samantha's face was projected on the screen. Alex's heart began to beat faster, she looked different now, a little chubbier, longer hair and her smile felt happier. It was heartbreaking that she got caught in the crossfire again. After all those efforts of making her life normal.

'If our paths would cross again, I hope you'll remember me the way I remembered you before I take this operation, A good memory that's supposed to last forever. '

'Don't you dare forget about me.'

Her words echoed in his mind, using the same voice she had when they were together. 

"I will save you again if I had to.." he promised to her mentally, as he tightened the clench he was already doing.

"Our intel reports that twelve hours ago, local informants spotted an unknown flying vehicle just by the Georgian Border, local authorities confirmed that this wasn't one of their aircraft and we believe it could be the getaway vehicle of Samantha Coleman and her captors… We are still looking on to this so for the meantime I want each and one of you to be fully alert and ready for deployment."

Everyone else fell silent. It meant they agreed at what the high ranking official said. A few more words were exchanged such as new additions to the team, aside from Alex. He didn't seem to focus much on the second part of the brief as his mind worried a lot about Samantha. If his instincts were right, she's probably sedated once again, taking a trip down her own memory lane.

Chapter 2 : F.N.G.

[nikatyler]

random questions game

Tagged by @kbeesims. Thank you very much! I’m taking a break from studying rn, so let’s do this.

1. why did you choose your url?

Nika is actually one of the first things I’ve ever called myself as a kid and last year I decided to sort of “reclaim” this old nickname and start using it again in online places and I’m surprised by how right it feels.

As for Tyler, well. I think it’s obvious. In my head he’s the main character of this blog, the mascot, if you will. And also, and this is a bit embarrassing, but about a month or two ago I saw this post that was like “changing names shouldn’t be such a big deal, we expect trans people to do it if they’re uncomfortable with their birth name, but we should normalize EVERYONE changing their names if they’re not okay with it” (or something along these lines). And well, I like my name, but I thought, what if I didn’t like it, what would I pick instead. Immediately, this one popped up in my head. Yeah. I mean it makes sense to me, but it feels so dumb at the same time. So yeah. I guess if you called me Tyler, I would respond to it. I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that I would respond to it, but hey. It’s weird but it would work.

2. any sideblogs? name them and why you have them.

The only one that is still active is my cc finds blog @simmeronnie-cc (yes I need to rename it too, we’ll do that). I don’t really post on my sort-of-studyblr-but-more-like-a-rantblr sideblog or my simspiration blog anymore. Among other things, I rant on twitter again (@/nikatyler22 if anyone’s interested), and I need to bring back the simspo tag on this blog.

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

Almost five years. I refuse to believe that.

4. do you have a queue tag?

I do. Well, I schedule my posts manually, I don’t queue them (because earlier this year I noticed it would eat at least one post a day, so I stopped using it), but still. I don’t know what I’d do without this function haha

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

There was this blog that did this really cool comic with very pretty characters. That’s what convinced me lol, even though my content has never been like theirs.

6. why did you choose your icon?

Because Tyler lol

7. why did you choose your header?

Because Tyler and Sharon and I want to have what they have dAMMIT

But I might change the picture for the one I posted yesterday, you know, the awkward one

8. whats your post with the most notes?

That would be the pride paints post I believe!

9. how many mutuals do you have?

I don’t know, but a lot I think? At least in the simple sense of “I follow you and you follow me.” I never counted it. I’m not sure how many people would actually consider me their mutual or online friend or something like that. I hope someone would haha

10. how many followers do you have?

Over 2 000. What the heck. I mean, not many people are actually active and I think most of them don’t even lurk, but it’s still a pretty cool number

11. how many people do you follow?

I checked and it’s 183. I can’t realistically keep up with all of them but at the same time I’d feel bad for unfollowing any of them

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

My entire blog is a big shitpost tbh, and I wouldn’t have it any other way ✌✨

13. how often do you use tumblr a day?

I usually keep the tab open all day and just check it from time to time. I’m not counting

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once?

Oooooh boy

Yes. I was dumb, okay? Very dumb.

15.  how do you feel about “you need to reblog” posts?

Those scared me when I was younger, I remember I couldn’t sleep when I was like 8 and saw one of those “repost this or you’ll die in 7 days” pictures. Now I’m okay with them, I just scroll past. Usually. Sometimes I still get nervous. Don’t post them, guys. You can really hurt people with anxiety and similar issues.

16. do you like tag games?

Y E S

17. do you like ask games?

Y E S   Y E S   Y E S   PLEASE SEND ME ASKS

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

One that immediately comes to my mind is @berrysweetboutique. I can’t believe such a big simblr is following me and seeing my daily pixel clownery on their dash :D

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

I don’t, but back in the day, I used to sort of put some simblrs on pedestals and then act in a way that I thought they would like, if that makes sense, and I was really insecure about what they would think, and if we started talking I was so worried I’d say or do something wrong and it was all in all not a great experience. I know it’s not a crush in the romantic sense, but it reminds me of how sometimes you’d go and try to impress a crush and change yourself so that they like you too. I guess they were sort of crushes in the sense of “oh wow this person is so amazing and perfect, I’m so little next to them, they could probably never love me the same way I love them”. Anyway, once you let go of that mentality and just start doing whatever, without trying to impress anyone...oh that freedom is sweet.

Sorry, went off topic here 😅

20. tags?

I’m just gonna tag whoever wants to do this, go make another cup of coffee and go back to my 19th century poetry 😄

[fandomfanfics12]

Home Lives With You-Part 11

Title: Home Lives With You. Pairings: Steve x Tony Part: 11/? Warnings: swearing, fluff, angst, blood, abuse (physical and verbal), ptsd, anxiety, bullying Summary: Peter’s been living with the abusive Thompson family for years, it was the only family in the system that would take him. When Steve and Tony get a phone call from the social worker who introduced them to their daughter Morgan for an emergency placement, they feel like they must pay back the favor. But are Steve and Tony taking on more than they can handle, and will Peter be able to adjust to a warm and welcoming family home? A/N: It’s been a while and all I can say is that my life got super hectic. I had a lot of personal stuff on and had to prioritise my school work. Hopefully this is good as I’m a little rusty on the fic writing and I really hope you enjoy it!

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10

Peter did not want to hear this. he wished that he’d never said anything, that he’d never opened his big fat mouth and asked such a dumb question.

“Of course you can call us your parents.” He opened his eyes, stunned by the words.

“Really?” his whole body was trembling, his heart pounded inside his chest so loud he could hear it echoing in his ears.

“Well duh.” Tony said with a small chuckle and Peter could have collapsed with relief.

“Thank you, honestly this means so much to me and we don’t have to keep pretending after the trip but it just makes asking her a million times easier, so umm, thanks.” He stopped rambling and the both of them were giving him the strangest look.

-

And we don’t have to keep pretending.

The words stung, more than Steve would care to admit. Peter stopped rambling on and stared at them, his eyes wide and fear held within them. Steve forced himself to snap into an easygoing smile, hoping that Tony would know what to say. That he would take the lead.

“Well Pete, best you run along and ask her.” Tony said, Steve hoped his smile looked far less forced than Tony’s did.

“Thanks.” Peter mumbled before he dashed off upstairs, Steve turned to Tony.

“run along and ask her?”

“like you did any better, just sitting there and smiling at him.” Tony rubbed a hand down his face and Steve’s stomach churned.

“do you think we should mention our plans for adoption?” Steve whispered and Tony’s eyes rose upwards to stare at the roof.

“No. not until Rhodey can give us the all clear to ask him, I don’t want to bring anymore disappointment into that boy’s life.” Steve nodded but felt a little dejected. He knew that was the best course of action, but the idea of being able to cheer Peter up was oh so tempting.

“I know, but we could explain…” Steve trailed off at the look on Tony’s face. It would be far more devastating for Peter to get the idea into his head that this could be permanent, only for the courts to decide that it wouldn’t be the best course of action. Steve nodded and looked back down at the ground.

“The second Rhodey clears us, I promise you honey that we will tell him.” Tony took hold of Steve’s hands and squeezed. He was right, Steve knew this, but that didn’t stop the bitter taste of disappointment settling in his mouth.

“okay honey, you’re right.” Steve smiled at his husband and Tony stepped closer, pulling Steve into a tight hug.

“The wait will be worth it.” and finally Steve relaxed, they’d get to keep Peter. Things would work out, it would all be okay.

-

Peter was pacing in his room, his phone in his hand, he just had to call her. But what if she was having dinner? What if she was out with friends? what if he was interrupting something super important? Peter went to swipe out of the phone app but instead hit the call button.

“Fuck!” he hissed as the phone began to ring. It rang five times before she answered.

“Peter?” he put the phone up against his ear, a little breathless and suddenly overcome with nerves.

“Hey MJ, how are you?”

“Uh, I’m good. How are you?” she sounded confused, as she should be. She probably thought he was a freak.

“I’m good. Sorry this call is a bit random, it’s just that I wanted to ask you a question. Of course you can say no, you probably have plans and uh…” he trailed off and scratched the back of his head. This was already going super poorly.

“What was your question?” now she seemed amused, and Peter wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“Well it’s my dads. They’re renting out this cabin for two weeks, a summer trip and they said I could bring a friend along and I was wondering if you uh, if you’d like to come along?” there it was. Out in the world, sitting there, the question had been asked and his heart was racing.

“Yeah! That would be great! Just send me the dates and I’ll make sure I’m there.” Her voice sounded light, airy, authentic.

“Really?” Peter couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, I didn’t have any plans anyway and I’d love to meet your family. is it just you and your dads?” she meant it, she wanted to come along. Peter couldn’t believe his luck. How was this happening to him? A family trip and a friend to bring along!

“Uh, I have a little sister too, her name is Morgan.” And he squeezed his eyes shut. I have a little sister. He wished those words were true. Wished that they could be real. That she could really be his, that Tony and Steve could really be his. That Peter could be theirs.

“Oh right, I saw her with you at school one time.” Peter found himself nodding and then remembered she couldn’t see him.

“Yeah, Morgan’s great. I think you’ll love her.” In the background Peter could hear someone calling MJ’s name.

“Well I have to go, but thanks for inviting me Peter, I’m really looking forward to it.” and then she hung up the phone, leaving Peter to his room. He sat down on the bed, stunned by the conversation. By her agreeing to come along, by how easy it was to pretend that he was a part of this family. maybe he could convince the Stark-Rogers family to keep him. Maybe if he proved himself over the summer, maybe they’d want to keep him. Maybe he could stay, maybe he could make this lie the truth and then he wouldn’t have to leave. Because Peter didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay right here.

-

Tony was desperately trying to keep it all together. He wanted this to work out, but there were so many variables. So much going on all at once. He was desperately trying to keep Steve together, to hold his husbands’ broken pieces so he wouldn’t fall apart. And then there was Peter, who Tony was trying to give his heart to and kept getting rejected, and then there was his baby girl. Morgan who was growing up so fast and had no clue as to just how much they were struggling. Tony could feel the pressure of trying to hold his family together weighing down on his shoulders.

But he wouldn’t let them down. He wouldn’t break and he wouldn’t let anything happen to them. he would get Steve the help he needed and they would adopt Peter and Morgan could remain blissfully oblivious to the heartache around her. Everything would work out if Tony could just hold onto them all for a little longer. This trip would help, would ease the pain and take some of the pressure off of them all.

“Daddy?” it was Morgan’s sweet voice and when Tony turned to face her she had a mischievous look upon her face.

“What’s up princess?” Tony asked and she looked down at her shoes.

“can we get a puppy?” Tony blinked, then chuckled. As if they could fit a dog into the equation right now.

“no sweetheart I’m afraid we can’t.” Tony ruffled the hair atop her head and she frowned up at him.

“why not? I promise I’ll take care of it!” she insisted and Tony could help but chuckle as he squatted down to match her height.

“I know a puppy is really cute, but are you really going to pick up it’s poop?” Tony raised a brow and Morgan nodded enthusiastically.

“I promise I will!” Tony tilted his head.

“Even if it smells?”

“even if it smells!” Tony sighed.

“I’ll think about it, but we wouldn’t be able to get the dog until we got back from our trip, okay honey?” Morgan nodded, a big toothy grin spread across her face.

“thanks daddy!” and then she darted off back upstairs, probably to play with some dolls. Tony walked through the house to the office, where he sat down and opened up his work email account. Despite the fact that it was a Saturday, he had fifty emails to go through.

“the work never ends.” He mumbled to himself but at the top of the emails was one from Mrs White. The subject title being the PTA.

“Ah shit.” Tony grumbled and opened up the email.

-

Steve was busy booking the cabin for their trip when he felt arms wrap around his torso.

“How are you?” tony mumbled against his back and Steve squeezed his eyes shut.

“I’m good, the therapy has been helping.” He admitted and Tony’s hold tightened.

“you promise?” Tony whispered and Steve nodded.

“Are you okay?” he asked, staring straight ahead at his laptop. Steve didn’t dare move a muscle, he didn’t want to scare Tony away.  

“Yeah, I’m just worried about you and Peter.” He admitted and at that Steve turned around, pulled Tony to his chest and held on tight.

“Baby listen to me. I am going to be okay and so will Peter. I am healing alright and we’re going to go on this trip and I don’t want you to worry about a thing.” Tony stared up into Steve’s eyes and Steve’s heart filled.

“I love you Stevie.” Tony whispered and Steve couldn’t stop the grin that spread out across his face.

“I love you more but baby you have to relax. We’re going to be fine. Just think about the vacation with our family and think of all the vacations to come.” And in his arms, Steve felt Tony relax.

“I got an email from the PTA, they really want us to show up to a meeting at the end of the summer.” Tony made puppy eyes and Steve rolled his own eyes.

“Fine you can be on the PTA, but no intentional plotting.” Tony grinned and nodded.

“Thanks Stevie.” Tony leant up on his tip toes and briefly pressed his lips against Steve’s, there for a second and then gone.

“What’s up?” Steve asked, detecting something odd on Tony’s face. Something suspicious.

“Morgan asked me a question.” At this, Steve rose a brow.

“And what did she ask?” Tony’s smile turned bashful, nervous, hopeful.

“She wants us to get a puppy.”

“A puppy?”

“a puppy, even offered to pick up the stinky poop.” Tony was grinning nervously now and Steve shook his head.

“She will not pick up the stinky poop, you won’t even pick up the stinky poop. I’ll have to do it.” Steve pouted and Tony shrugged.

“Would it really be so bad?” Steve sighed and pressed his forehead against Tony’s.

“Yes.”

“But we could just add one more member to our family.” Tony whispered and Steve chuckled.

“We already are honey.” Tony sighed, pouted and then attempted puppy dog eyes on Steve.

“You sure?”

“Yes I’m sure. But maybe in a year or two when Morgan’s a little bit older we can revisit the idea of getting a dog.” Steve kissed Tony’s forehead and his husband sighed ever so dramatically.

“Fine.” Tony grumbled and Steve shook his head.

“How’d she even get the idea of a puppy into her head in the first place?” Steve wondered just as Peter walked into the room. He froze, suddenly looking sheepish and Steve had his answer.

“Oh that was me, sorry I should’ve talked with you both about it. she was telling me about how Penelope has a dog and I asked her if you guys had ever had a dog and she said no you hadn’t so then I asked her if she wanted a dog and she got really excited and i am so so sorry.” Peter was out of breath by the end and Steve couldn’t stop the chuckle that passed his lips.

“Pete, it’s fine. It would be nice to have a dog around but the timing isn’t great with us going away on this trip.” Peter completely relaxed and nodded his head.

“Oh, okay, of course.” But even Peter looked a little deflated.

“Would you like it if we had a dog Petey?” Tony asked and Peter let out a small smile.

“It’s your house and your family but a dog could be uh cute.” He seemed fidgety, and then before either Steve or Tony could reply he left the room.

“Maybe he’d come out of his shell a little more if we got a dog.” Tony said before leaving Steve alone. A feeling of dread arose in his gut as he realised that the three of them were going to team up against him. They wanted a dog, but Steve didn’t want a dog. He’d be the one who would have to look after it, pick up the poop and toilet train and teach it tricks. They didn’t need a dog. He’d just have to remain resilient.

They were not going to get a dog.

@smallnjh @picklepotatoe14 @thatis-americas-ass​ @briebriebrieee @aftereveryraincomessunshine @meyamoadriytu @loveliestdisappointment

[whimsandvanillalattes]

"You?" (Part 1)

Pairing: Kwon Jiyong (G Dragon) x Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU, Romance, a dash of angst, sorta fluffy in later parts

Soulmate AU Prompt: Soulmates have identical counters that count the number of times they have passed their soulmate.

Part: 1/?

Part 2

Five year old Kwon Jiyong found the little counter on his friend’s arm fascinating. But five year old Kwon Jiyong grew extremely frustrated when he realized that all his other five year old friends had similar ones on their arms or legs, but he didn’t have one. So he decided he didn’t want to play anymore and dragged his sister—who was supposed to be looking after him but really was just playing with her friends in another part of the park they were at—back home with him. On the way, he noticed that even she had one on her left forearm. He didn’t cry, but he felt tears well up in his eyes. This was just not fair. Everyone had a counter. Why didn’t he have one too?

He could only hold back his tears until he got home, ran to the bathroom and took off his shirt in front of the mirror only to find that he didn’t have a counter anywhere on his body. Then he started wailing. When his mother, panicking, asked him what was wrong, he told her between sobs that he wanted a counter too. That day was when he first heard the word soulmate. She told him that everyone had a counter that told them how many times they had crossed paths with their soulmate—the other half of them. Jiyong didn’t have one because his soulmate hadn’t been born yet.

The first thing Jiyong did every morning since that day was to stand in front of a mirror and inspect his body for a counter. He still didn’t quite understand the entire concept, but he didn’t want to miss his soulmate’s birth. Sometimes, he even checked thrice a day, but no matter how many times he did, the counter wouldn’t show up. He would even become angry with his soulmate at times (“Why can’t they be born already?” he would think) but then the image of a cute newborn baby he had once conjured in his mind to be his soulmate would surface and his anger would disappear. But Jiyong turned six, and then seven, and then eight and the counter never showed up.

By the time he was ten, he was the only person in his class who didn’t have a counter. At this point, though, it didn’t bother him. Of course, the cute baby’s image would pop up in his head occasionally and he still wanted a soulmate, but he had stopped checking for a counter all the time. Jiyong was busy these days, being an SM trainee and all. And it was so tiring that he often found himself dozing off during class. So the day his counter appeared, he was struggling to keep his eyes open and almost missed his soulmate’s birth. The boy sitting next to him nudged him hard—Jiyong was convinced that it would bruise—and he woke from his half-slumber with a start. His friend nodded towards his hand and Jiyong saw a tiny black dot on the inside of his right wrist that definitely was not there before.

Jiyong’s heart leapt up to his throat and he bolted from the class, shouting an excuse of needing to use the toilet on his way out. After all the years of waiting and excitement and annoyance, he was not prepared for his soulmate’s birth. He eventually found himself sitting on the floor against a wall in an empty corridor, holding his breath and staring unblinking at his wrist. The tiny dot had gotten bigger and was slowly growing. Jiyong wasn’t exactly sure how long birth took but his soulmate sure was taking pretty long. The dot eventually stopped being a dot. It was now more like a curve. He found himself wishing he could see his soulmate being born instead of looking at a counter form on his wrist.

When it looked like the counter had almost fully formed, a sound distracted Jiyong and he looked up from his wrist. There was no one around, which was strange because Jiyong could swear he heard a baby crying. When he looked back at his wrist, the counter was already complete. In place of the dot was a delicate 0. A variety of emotions overcame him, but mainly he felt an extreme happiness and overflowing love and protectiveness for this newborn. The cute little baby’s image popped up in his mind again and he instinctively knew that his soulmate looked exactly as he had pictured. His face broke into the brightest smile and he just stared at his wrist for a moment. Gathering some courage, he laid a gentle kiss onto his counter, then broke into a fit of giggles.

“Congratulations on being born, little baby,” he whispered.

His teacher scolded him when he got back to class but Jiyong didn’t care. He was over the moon. That day, he even practiced extra hard. He wanted to be perfect, so that when they finally met, his soulmate would think of him as the coolest person ever.

Thirty year old Jiyong had been through almost every experience one could go through. He had debuted with BIGBANG under YG, had faced difficulties in the beginning of his career and was now generally regarded as the ‘King of K-pop’. He had looks, talent, fame and money. He had millions of fans screaming his name. But he still hadn’t met his soulmate. World tours resulted in nothing, fanmeets, while giving him the chance to greet the fans he was so grateful for, showed no sign of them, and nights out with friends were fruitless too. He had no lead to search for them either. He had only heard crying, and every baby’s crying sounded almost the same. His soulmate probably had a better lead, but sometimes it seemed like they weren’t really looking for him at all. He had to admit, he hadn’t been a saint while waiting. He had had all sorts of flings, as well as some serious relationships that made him feel like he didn’t really need his soulmate. But whenever they ended, the longing for his other half would come back, stronger than ever. He often wondered if his soulmate was in a relationship like that, and if they didn’t want him at all.

-

You’ve had a soulmate counter since you were born, unlike many of your friends. They got theirs later, meaning their respective soulmates were younger than them. Yours, on the other hand, was older than you, though no one could tell how much older. You, however, had reason to believe that he was quite a few years older than you. He had to be at least old enough to be able to speak clearly when you were born. How did you know? You had heard him speak.

Since you ever a baby, you had often heard a boy (who was never anywhere near you no matter how hard you looked for him) gently whispering in a language you couldn’t quite understand. Even though you didn’t know what he was saying, you would think of his voice whenever you hurt yourself while playing or your parents scolded you, and it would give you comfort. You told your parents about this strange voice in your head when you were about six and they explained that it was your soulmate’s voice. In addition to matching soulmate counters, soulmates could clearly hear and recall the first thing their significant other had said after the counter appeared. What you kept hearing were his first words after you were born. Even years later, you could hear them, and the little giggles that had accompanied, perfectly.

Your parents took you to a language expert to find out where your soulmate was from. After several (hundred) failed attempts, you were able to replicate what he had said and were told that he was Korean. His first words to you roughly translated to “Congratulations on being born, little baby.” You had always wanted to meet your soulmate but when you discovered what he said, six year old you absolutely fell in love with him (well, you’ve always been a dramatic person). And so did your mom, coincidentally, because “he’s such a sweet boy!” You began to learn Korean not long after, and applied to every Korean university you could think of in high school. You got accepted in a university in Seoul and moved, fully believing that you would find him soon.

Of course, that was easier said than done. You knew nothing about your soulmate except that he had a counter identical to yours on his right wrist. Even the voice you remembered had probably changed drastically over the years. You had no way of knowing if he even lived in Seoul, or in Korea for that matter. So two years later, you were doing well in your classes and worked part time at a coffee shop, but no matter how many blind dates you went on or how many times your walked around the city instead of taking a taxi or a bus in the hopes of crossing him, your counter still read 0.

A/N:

My first fic! I wanted to do a GD soulmate AU because second gen idols don’t really have a lot of soulmate AUs written about them. Also, I know he’s 31 now but I started writing this way back in March (and then ended up procrastinating too much), and the story is supposed to be set a few months before he gets discharged from the military, hence he is 30 here. I’ll try to be regular with updates (if school doesn’t get in the way). Do let me know what you think!

[dhiatzs]

Someone probably already thought of this, but...

Something has been bugging me since I’ve finished season 1 of Umbrella Academy and went to see the content of the fandom. This might take long to explain, but well, I’ll go ahead.

The thing is. I love Klaus Hargreeves. I freaking adore this dork. He’s so funny and fascinating, he has sick lines, and his character development rules. I’d protect him with my life. Like I already mentioned, even before I knew the show, I saw drawings and screenshots of him on my dashes and I knew I was going to fall in love with the character.

But as far as I adore him, I know he has flaws. I can see how bad it must be to deal with a drug addict like him. Actually, while the Hargreeves kids were growing up, I can perfectly imagine him stealing money, disappearing, lying to his brothers and sisters, being disrespectful, needing attention and avoiding it at the same time. We see Allison and Luther knowing that he was going to steal, in episode one. And for all we see, everyone is used to what he’s doing because of his addiction. I can imagine them actually trying to help him when they were younger, and trying to reason him, but him being an addict, these attempts remaining useless and unsuccessful. 

And if they were in a loving family, yeah, maybe it wouldn’t have made really sense that they don’t try harder to help him getting rid of his addiction. But they were in an unhealthy home, with an abusive father. So they grew up and parted ways, they all had their own lives and struggles, they all learnt to manage alone, Klaus included, as adults. More or less.

Except for one person. Luther. Luther stayed near his father and did what Reginald wanted him to do. Luther did this because he thought it would be for the greater good. He trusted his father, because even though he was a cold and distant old man, he had faith in him and in his words. He had hopes in his father where everyone else had let go since a long time. And you know what? He was wrong. He followed the wrong person. And he was probably doing it for not-so-heroic purposes, because he was the Number One and thought it was his duty, he probably fulfilled all of this because of pride. But the thing is. It’s how he has been raised. He wasn’t aware of his father abusing Klaus and Vanya when they were younger, but when he was given against his will a monstrous body he hated and felt extremely bad about, he didn’t stop following his father’s orders. Maybe it would have been different if he went through similar things that Klaus and Vanya had to live.

But in any case, when he learns his father lied to him and didn’t care whatsoever for him and the mission he spent literal years of his life focusing on, when he learns that despite being Number One, what he thought was an important duty he was accomplishing for everyone was just some useless purpose, yes, his world falls apart. Yes, he starts being unthinking, uncompassionate. He lost the hope he had, the thing that was giving him steadiness and mostly the thing he grew up on. His siblings saw through their father, they never had hope in him and let go a while ago. Not Luther.

Klaus got kidnapped and tortured, went through war, met someone there he felt in love with and saw him die in front of him. He suffered. He did. And it was an awful thing for him, and for us to watch it. Why didn’t his family wonder where he went, when he’d been kidnapped and was being tortured? Why didn’t they ask themselves that? Where their brother, a junkie, always going here and there, who went to jail and probably loads of times on rehab, where this brother they haven’t seen in years went? Why would they have wondered?

Sure, when we know what happened to him, as viewers of a show, it’s horrible and we wish we could just go into this screen and help this man and protect him. But he didn’t expect his siblings to look for him. He says that himself to Cha-cha and Hazel. Because when he was addict, during these years of being apart from his family, he was alone. He managed. He dealt with himself and his addiction. It’s his life. His struggle. Not theirs. And this time? Well of course he needed the help of a distraction to escape, but he managed again, didn’t he? And he went through war. If anything, I find it kinda... good for the character. He relies on drugs, yes, but not on his siblings. He can take care of himself. Sure, I want him to be taken care of and cared for, but if anything, I’d more gladly watch it being a relationship his siblings and him decided to share rather than an emotional dependency. For now, it didn’t happen, but maybe he’ll hug his siblings, in season 2, maybe he will be able to talk about his problems and being listened to? We’ll see.

Luther, on the other hand, had an emotional dependency to his father. And after this link broke, he saw Allison, the person he loves and cares for the most, almost die because of Vanya. Now, guys, just be aware. I love Vanya. I love every single member of the Hargreeves family (except Reginald he’s trash) equally (almost equally (I mean, Klaus ffs)). But going through facts, even if I don’t approve at all the idea of making Vanya relive her childhood trauma, I can’t... blame Luther for that moment he locked her up. He lose trust in his father and in Pogo not so long ago, and Vanya did hurt Allison, even if it wasn’t on purpose. He couldn’t know what was going to happen. He couldn’t trust the people he’s been relying to for years anymore. So, Vanya? Of course he wasn’t going to listen to her and rather was going to put Allison in safety. 

This post is very long, but I wanted to publish it, even if no one reads it, because I needed to make this point. No one is to blame. Everyone follows a path that leads to decisions, character growth, issues and development, all different and having different causes. I’m not saying you should like Luther, or that you shouldn't not like him (if that makes sense). Anyone can love the character they want, obviously, I’ll never think otherwise. But you can’t compare Klaus’ struggles with Luther’s ones. Not in a serious tone, I mean.

I just want people to think of this. You don’t have to like Luther at all. It’s fair that you don’t like him, he’s not the most lovable character ever. But I’m tired of seeing essentially hatred for him.

[madrut16]

Day 11: Dressed to Impress

A/N: Here’s some Adrian x MC fluff set in between books 1 and 2. I know we all need it after today’s chapter. Also, let me know if you want to be tagged for my Lily x Kamilah fic (and any of the others!) It probably won’t be out for a little bit just because I want to take some time to do them justice.

For Day 11: Acceptance 

Book/Pairing: Bloodbound (Adrian x MC)

Rating: PG

Summary: Isabel finally gets to meet the members of Adrian’s clan when he lets her attend a monthly meeting of theirs.

@kinda-iconic @choicesjulychallenge @endlesshero1122  @jlpplays1 @desiree-0816 @choicesfannatalie @krishu213 @choices97 @riseandshinelittleblossom @brightpinkpeppercorn @ladykateofhousebeaumont @tabithacarlisle @ella-raines

"What's this for?" Isabel's fingers ran over the black dress's smooth fabric, it's bejeweled collar glimmering in the artificial light of the office. 

Its simple elegance was breathtaking and she knew that the price tag was probably a number she couldn't afford on her own. She looked up at Adrian with a curious expression. 

"An event later tonight," he answered, and she detected a hint of nervousness. He was becoming quite easy to read now. "It's a dinner so it's a bit more formal attire. If you don't like it there are some more upstairs that I keep on hand."

Isabel shook her head. "Are you kidding? This is gorgeous. Whatever this occasion it sounds...fancy. Did I miss it on the itinerary?" 

A brief wave of paranoia rose through her at the thought of potentially forgetting a work-related detail.

This he noticed and quickly abated. "No, it wasn't there. Sorry to make you worry, I simply forgot to mention it to you out of habit." His lips twitched sheepishly. "I guess I'm still not completely used to my assistant knowing about all this. How the city is truly run."

It didn't take long for her to put the pieces together. She let out a gasp. "Wait...is this a Clan meeting?"

Adrian raised his eyebrows in momentary surprise before a smile appeared. "Yes. That didn't take you long."

It never takes me long to figure things out," she giggled before a slight crease formed in her brows. "But, I'm not really...I'm only human. Am I even allowed?"

His rich brown eyes poured into her, and she felt like she would melt under its analytical scrutiny. But, his smile remained unwavering. "You are," he said to her surprise. "Everyone in the Clan, including myself is allowed to bring one guest--vampire or otherwise. I choose you. You have been wanting to meet them."

The notion was so surreal to her, someone of his status and opulence wanting her, a small-town girl with her head in the clouds. 

"Are you sure?" she questioned, her insecurity leaking out of her despite her best efforts to keep it contained. "I know that my meeting them is a big deal for you, for...us. Do you really think I'm ready?"

Giving her another warm smile, he stepped forward closing the gap between them. It was just the two of them so they didn't have to keep up professional appearances. "Of course I do, I wouldn't have offered if I didn't think you could handle it. You've impressed me with how fast you're learning and adjusting to all of this. And, I want to be with you, and not just behind closed doors. With that likely to be possible soon at the company end, why wait?"

Her sunshine-like grin shone on her face once more. "If you're sure it won't be a problem." Plucking the dress off of the back of the chair, Isabel paused another concern flying into her overthinking brain of hers. 

"What is it?"

"Nothing, I just, um, I'll need to touch up my appearance. If I'm going to make a good first impression, I need to dress to impress. That's what my grandmother always tells me anyway," she fretted, rambling nervously. 

Looking at her with a bemused expression, Adrian simply chuckled and produced a navy blue key card with his initials in white cursive. "You look great just the way you are. But, use this, if you're so concerned. The meeting isn't for another hour and it's just upstairs in the restaurant so you can meet me up there when you're done."

Taking it, she gave him a feather-light kiss on the cheek before heading straight for the office door. "Thank you! I'll be back down shortly."

Almost fifty minutes later, Isabel stood in front of the rooftop grill's elegant glass doors, staring at her reflection in the shiny surface. She smoothed down her hair sprayed updo that she spent way too much time perfecting and went over any wrinkle in the black fabric delicately encased on her figure. Then when all of the physical nitpicking had been done, she sighed and gave herself a silent pep talk. 

She desperately wanted things to go well. Other than Kamilah, Adrian's Clan was the closest thing he had to a family. She didn't want to mess things up. After another minute of trying not to psych herself out, she finally decided that she had prepared enough and opened the doors. 

Even though New York was experiencing a late spring heatwave, the meeting was being held indoors, most likely for if it extended past dawn. Stepping inside, she could help to gape, the inside of the restaurant being just as beautiful and magnificent as the patio outdoors. Eventually, she found the private dining room and saw Adrian busy making the final preparations. She smiled as she watched his hands-on dedication to the task. 

"So, what do you think?" she asked shyly. There was something about him that made her blissfully unnerved, giddy. 

Hearing her musical voice, he turned around and nearly stopped breathing at the sight of her. "Isabel...my god you're…" he swallowed. "You look beautiful, radiant."

Isabel smiled, knowing that she could make him just as flustered as he made her. "Well, you do have good taste. You look pretty dashing too if I don't say so myself. But, then again you always do."

"And you don't?"

A slight flush graced her cheeks. "Adrian…"

"I'm just telling the truth." That and his boyish stare did little to help the mix of warm and fuzzy feelings buzzing inside. 

Their privacy was interrupted when the clan members began to trickle in and Isabel's smile took on a professional air. One of the first to arrive was Tony, who had traded in his usual lab coat for a traditional black suit and tie. 

"I was wondering when you'd make an appearance to one of these," he told her as she gave him a brief hug. 

"Thanks. He really goes all out for this doesn't he?" she observed, her eyes traveling to where Adrian was politely conversing with someone she didn't recognize. 

She was met with a laugh. "He sure does. I think he enjoys taking care of us, and part of that is a taste of luxury. Not that most of us can't afford this on our own. From the outside, it looks like he's being pretentious but, I know that he really just focuses on it because it's a monument to the good accomplishments of his. Lord knows he needs to."

Isabel didn't need to ask about the underlying meaning to the scientist's words. She knew that once Adrian's achievements were of the much more dark kind. He didn't speak of it much but he didn't have too, the little words and body language he provided were enough. 

"I should make my rounds. I have a few dozen people to impress after all," she said, lightening the conversation once more. 

"Oh, I don't think it'll be that hard," he advised. "Some of my counterparts may be a bit more...traditional-minded but, they're all good people deep down. Adrian's fondness for humans is far from new to them. They just need some reassurance that he picks the right ones after...the somewhat recent events that transpired."

Nicole. 

She thought of the deceitful blonde now locked up in the Shadow Den. For a while, she felt nothing but hatred towards the person who almost let Adrian die. But now, she couldn't help feeling a bit of sorrow. For she too was consumed by the euphoria that type of dominant power vampires and humans alike succumbed too. 

Isabel gave him a sad smile. "Thank you, I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

With a wave, she began to float about the space, with firm handshakes and quaint small talk that usually annoyed her but not this time when it came with a sense of purpose. As she completed her last introductions, she felt Adrian's hand on her bare shoulder. 

"How are you holding up?" he inquired. 

"Fairly good. Everyone is so impressive," she replied, her eyes widening appreciatively. There was an exciting thrill she received being around inspiring professionals, especially in this industry that she had come to love. "All of these CEOs and scientists. You even have a world-renowned neurosurgeon!"

He grinned at her coyly. "Originally we divided it up so that each of us took a sector of the economy, things that make the city come to life and function. While most of our members still hold true to that, Vega's untimely end has complicated things. With what's leftover of his Clan mixed with Jax's people, that one is a bit of a wildcard now."

As everyone began finding their seats, he led her over to the long dining table and showed her to the chair closest to the large ornate one that sat at the head. "Here. A little heads up, I’m planning to have you speak at the start.”

Isabel raised her eyebrows. "I-I haven't prepared anything."

Adrian shrugged. "I know that you can come up with something. You always find the right words to say," he told her with a wink. 

She gulped nervously. "O-okay."

She could tell how much he wanted her to do this and he knew what his people would respond to well. Once everyone was seated, Adrian picked up his wine glass and used a fork to make it ping, quieting the room down. 

"Thank you, for joining me for our annual meeting," he said, addressing the glitzed and glammed faces staring back at him. "It's lovely to see you all and hear that after the chaos of last month things are settling back to normal." 

A hushed murmur could be heard throughout. 

"Now, before we begin this evening's agenda, you all have noticed that tonight I have a guest here with me. Isabel is professionally my executive assistant here at Raines' corps and personally…," he paused, making eye contact with her before continuing, "...she's someone I've come to deeply care about in a short amount of time. I know that some of you are still cautious of humans from the recent situation. So, if she wouldn't mind, I'd like her to share a few remarks to reassure you that she is completely trustworthy."

Biting her lip, Isabel pushed out her chair and stood up gracefully. Her face became warm from the pressure she found herself under as all eyes were trained on her. 

She took a deep breath and smiled, exchanging a look with Adrian who gave her an encouraging nod. 

"Thank you, Adrian. I'm extremely grateful to you all for being allowed to be a part of this and begin the process of getting to know you," she began, the nerves threatening to consume her. "I know that you're skeptical of my involvement here and becoming so involved in your world. There is a lot of animosity between our two kinds, which we've both had a hand in shaping. But, in the short time that I've known Adrian and have become aware of you and your secrets, I've come to see the nuance that many of my fellow mortals don't have the patience or courage to seek out."

Now, she was hitting her stride and the words came to her naturally. "That while you have certainly earned some of the reputations that is handed to you, it is not the full story. You have the capacity for using your power for good and history will prove that us humans definitely have blood on our hands too. I wouldn't be here if I didn't think that befriending you, using my work to help you is worth it. And I hope that I can prove that my presence and intentions here in this world and with Adrian are nothing but benevolent ones."

The last of her eloquent speech left her lips and a hum of appreciative responses gave her a satisfied feeling. Her work was far from over, now having to deliver the open promise in her dialogue. But, it was a good start and that was all she needed at the moment. 

"A brief toast," Adrian exclaimed, his demeanor overflowing with hope and pride. 

Sitting back down as the first course was being served, the main contents of the meeting could be delved into and Isobel sat back watching the entire thing and Adrian's calm, gracious leadership. 

She could really get used to this. 

[jikook-love]

love stall (pt.1)

jungkook x jimin | hogwarts au | words: ?

gryffindor!jungkook x slytherin!jimin 

Young wizard Jeon Jungkook had somehow become the ideal role model for all Gryffindors by his fifth year at Hogwarts: a charming and attractive personality, the best dueller of his year, captain of the Quidditch team and the best at trespassing into places he shouldn’t be without getting caught. But even the Gryffindor poster boy holds a shameful secret, a secret that would utterly shatter his reputation should it ever come out:

He had fallen in love with a Slytherin. 

Blood pulsed through his ears. The chants were becoming louder and louder, gradually reaching an empowering crescendo. 

“Go Go Gryffindor! Go Go Gryffindor!”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a fleeting moment, for that was all he had. The red Quaffle was in his hands, and the goal was hovering in distance, so close yet so far. This was it. Score this and the game would be over regardless of who caught the Snitch (unless the opposing team got another goal in afterwards which was highly unlikely considering their mental state). It was all up to him. 

They were already starting to gain upon him, he ought to have felt incomparable pressure. But no.

After all, he was Jeon Jungkook, Captain of the red and gold Quidditch team. 

And Gryffindor’s pride. 

In a mad dash, Jungkook let out a cry as he pushed forth on his broom, the traditional Firebolt. It was a broom that had been world-class competition standard in its prime, but had since been worn out through the test of time. Regardless, it was still a reliable and solid piece of equipment--and more importantly it was the same class of broom that the legendary Harry Potter had once mounted, which made it all the more suitable for someone like Jungkook. 

He heard the familiar screams and cheers as he whizzed across the stadium, his speed unmatched by anyone else on the pit. Usually, it was often the Seeker who was praised for their flying abilities, but Jungkook flew in a way that outshone them all. In fact, despite his remarkable flying techniques, the coach found him more suited to be a Chaser due to his equally impressive strength and reflexes. The way he handled his broom and flying patterns was almost theatrical, a show of speed and agility, unrivalled by anyone else in their generation. 

Sweat beaded from his forehead as Jungkook headed straight for the goal posts. It was a one-man show now, and despite that there were two other Chasers on the team, it could only be him who could finish this. 

In the corner of his eye, he noticed a Bludger headed towards him at full speed. Anyone else would’ve been hindered at once, as the the offending ball travelled at a much higher speed than their broomsticks at full power. But Jungkook was quicker than that. He quickly arched his back, sliding under the Bludger and using his agile body to avoid what his broom couldn’t. The crowd roared in excitement, realizing the goal was now quite in reach. 

Jungkook grinned in anticipation. If he did this properly, the game was theirs, and nothing could possibly stop them. This was it, they would win yet another game, the first win for Gryffindors for this year. He watched in pity as the Keeper was desperately doing Double Eight Loops around the ring as fast as she could, but it was all futile, because he was much faster and his keen eyes could detect her exact trajectory. 

And...now!

The crowd went wild as Jungkook suddenly stood up on his broom, ready for the final blow. All he could see was the goal post in front of him. 

“OH MY GOD! IT’S THE DIONYSUS DIVE! HE’S GONNA DO IT AGAIN! HIS SIGNATURE MOVE,” he heard the announcer declare loudly and excitedly.

Jungkook’s eyes glinted, he reeled back to throw the red object that was about to become a bullet. Drawing back, ready to punch full force--

A flash of gold. 

It all happened in a blur. In spur of the moment, he’d forgotten to watch out for the most unlikely scenario of them all. A sudden impact, as he inevitably collided with someone else. Quaffle falling from his hands as he was knocked completely off his broom.

He could only watch in horror, hands grappling at air as he saw the other team’s Keeper mercilessly seize the red ball, tossing it to her teammates. His own team had cleared out to make way for him, and had only realized their mistake now. But it was too late. Seconds later, a hopeful cheer erupted, indicating a goal.

He grimaced, realizing that that should be the least of his worries right now. He desperately tried to grab for his broom, which was just that much more than an arm’s reach away. 

Closer...closer. He contemplated using his wand to retrieve the broom, but that would definitely forfeit the game for his entire team. Jungkook grimaced, deciding he would just get healed later, bracing for the worst as he plummeted towards the bottom of the pitch.

But the impact never came. 

He opened his eyes, in shock as he realized that he was hovering barely centimetres above the sandy floor, perched upon another’s broomstick. 

It wasn’t the expected red cloak he expected to see--deep green fabric fluttered in the air. 

Jungkook turned to his saviour in surprise. “Oh my god. Thank yo--” 

He was suddenly dumped into the ground, plummeting face first into the sand right next to his broom. He caught a glimpse of a wisp of blonde hair before his former saviour hovered tauntingly above him.

“You won’t be thanking me in a bit.”

And then his saviour was gone, gaining incredible altitudes at an impressive speed. Jungkook didn’t have time to contemplate. 

That game hasn’t been called. That means the Snitch hasn’t been caught yet so...

He quickly climbed back on his broom and rushed back up to the top, desperately wanting to regain his pride. He could still do this. It would just mean two goals instead of one, he could easily--

The sounding whistle. 

His heart sank in his chest, a dreading feeling coursing through his veins. There was a silence spreading throughout the stadium, as if something completely unexpected had occurred. 

He desperately, quickly flew to the top, wanting to see what the result was for himself. 

“Oh my god,” one of the announcers said. “Unbelievable. No way in fu--”

“Oh no, he went and done it!” the other one interrupted before any profanities could be uttered. “The Plumpton Pass! Haven’t seen that one in awhile. A snarky one this new seeker is!”

Plumpton Pass. The one where the Seeker hides the Snitch in his sleeve to confuse the opposing team? But why now of all times--

He froze, the explanation becoming thoroughly evident. A wave of blonde hair caught his eyes, right in the dead centre of the pitch.

Mostly because the light shade of hair, that was now certainly burned into his memory, so well complimented by the Golden Snitch he had clutched in his right hand and displayed for the slowly recovering crowd to see. 

Jungkook couldn’t believe what had happened. He--the soul and pride of his generation of Gryffindors--had been absolutely outwitted and beaten. In the worst way possible. 

By a Slytherin.

“Well, would you look at that?” The grin was inevitable in the announcer’s voice. “It looks like the new Slytherin Seeker’s way better than we all thought.”

✧✧✧

Jungkook slammed his broom down in frustration, unbuttoning his Quidditch attire in a fury as his friends followed him into the locker, concern written on their faces.  

“Hey man, come on, you did great! Everyone knows that,” Jung Hoseok, sixth year Hufflepuff reassured. “You broke an insane amount of records that game, all on your own.”

“Dude, you’re crazy,” Kim Taehyung, also a sixth year Hufflepuff, was gawking. “You got over 100 points from Quaffles goals alone. No wonder people think you’re cheating.”

“Good thing he’s a Gryffindor,” Hoseok chortled. “Can you imagine if he was a Slytherin? The amount of inspections.”

“Good. Those snakes deserve it,” Taehyung muttered. “I’ll never forgive what they did to my toad.”

“What did they do to your toad?” Hoseok asked curiously. He quickly shook the thought out of his head. “Never mind. We should probably focus on Jungkook right now. The boy’s distraught.” The sixth year student patted Jungkook on the shoulder, who was still crouched over on a bench, face buried into his hands.

“Cut yourself some slack, bro,” Taehyung mumbled, sitting down beside him. “You’ve got to lose once or twice in your life. Otherwise people will think you’re some sort of monster.”

“Yeah, it’s not like any of us saw it coming,” Hoseok echoed. “I didn’t even notice there was a Seeker the entire game--he was so subtle.”

“That’s the point, Hoseok,” Jungkook pouted angrily, pulling on his regular school robes. “Usually no one else sees these things but I’m supposed to. I can’t believe I let him get away with that. It has to be the oldest trick in the book.”

“What? The little Snitch trick he did at the end?” asked Taehyung.

“No,” Jungkook frowned. “Blending into the environment and showing up only at the last second.”

“Well, on the bright side, it won’t happen again,” Hoseok shrugged. “People will be keeping eyes on him from now on as the new Slytherin seeker who managed to best Jeon Jungkook himself in a Quidditch game.” Hoseok’s smug smile quickly faded from his face when he noticed Taehyung shooting dirty looks at him, indicating that he was not helping in anyway whatsoever. 

“A-anyways,” he quickly recovered. “Namjoon and Seokjin are waiting for us in Hogsmeade. Let’s go have some Butterbeer and take your mind off things, huh?” 

“You guys go ahead,” Jungkook muttered without thinking much. Upon looking up and seeing their distraught expressions, he gave a sigh and quickly gave in.

“I’ll catch up later,” Jungkook promised instead. “You guys go get a table.” The comment managed to restore a slight sense of relief to their faces, and was enough to send them on their way. 

Which Jungkook to sulk all on his own, which was something he hadn’t done in a long, long while. He hadn’t had such an absolutely demoralizing failure in a long while, not since he’d gotten to Hogwarts. Here, he had friends, and somehow, he was an exemplary example of anything he bothered to give the slightest effort into. People even looked up to him--naiively, of course. It’d be a long, long while since he’d experienced such a crushing feeling in his chest. 

He could already see it: the cold, disappointed glances that he would inevitably receive upon returning to the Gryffindor Common Room. After their fervent cheering and unyielding faith in him, all he had given them in return was a disheartening loss. He didn’t know how he was going to face it. 

As if waiting for the worst possible timing possible, the doors to the locker rooms suddenly burst open, revealing several windblown green capes. Jungkook looked up to see the members of the Slytherin Quidditch team, still decked out in full Quidditch uniforms and clutching their brooms with smug smiles on their faces.

Idiots, you guys couldn’t even block me once. If it weren’t for your Seeker...

“You’re the only one left?” one of them called out. “That’s a shame.”

“What? Came to gloat?” Jungkook spat back without hesitance. “They're all gone.”

“Well, I think you’re the only one we need to see, captain,” said the female Keeper from earlier. The way she dragged out the last word brought the nastiest goosebumps to his skin. “That’s what you get for underestimating us.”

Despite his insecurities, Jungkook still managed shrug and give them the coldest response:

“You let me score ten goals on your hoops,” Jungkook restated the facts. “And that was just me alone. It’s hard not to judge you guys after that.”

Their smiles were immediately replaced with angry scowls, and Jungkook couldn’t help but smirk to himself. It was amazing--he was feeling his lowest now, but he could still talk back to the Slytherins without a scuffle. 

I am a Gryffindor, after all, Jungkook thought proudly to himself. 

“Whatever, Jeon,” the girl crooned, her lips curling in disgust. “You and your pompous team still lost, and that’s the final verdict.”

“The scoreboard also says 170-160, a 10 point difference despite your team catching the Snitch, which is also a final verdict,” Jungkook pointed out. “How about you guys just go back to your gloomy dungeon and pretend you deserved the win there? At least there’s probably people there who would fulfill your delusions.”

He didn’t even bother watching their angered and frustrated expressions as they stormed out of the room, throwing swear words behind--he’d seen and heard all that one too many times. 

“Pathetic,” Jungkook muttered to himself, shoving away his broom angrily. 

“I’d be more careful with that if I were you. That looks expensive.”

Jungkook whirled around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. He froze immediately, slightly jolted by who was standing in front of him. 

He’d thought the entire team had left after his harsh words but it turned out he was wrong. 

One person had remained. 

The one person who could probably get to his head beyond anyone else on that team. 

That shade of gold...

“Relax, will you?” the boy said, his voice much more melodic than Jungkook could ever imagine it to be, high toned and somewhat pleasant. He tilted his head, a teasing yet charming smile written on his lips. “I’m not here to pick a fight or anything.” Jungkook watched as the boy ran his fingers through his unusually silky blonde hair, fully revealing what was undoubtedly the face of the Seeker who’d bested him only minutes ago. 

Jungkook found himself to be surprisingly obediently, as he body loosened immediately, his grasp removed from his wand. 

“Why are you still here then?” Jungkook asked, annoyed. “To rub it in my face?”

“Maybe,” came the shameless answer. 

Jungkook glared at him, before turning away again. Evidently the only way to truly fight those arrogant assholes was to ignore them. 

“Look, I’m kidding,” the Seeker said suddenly, stepping closer as a gentler tone appeared in his voice. “Honestly, I came to offer my condolences. What I did was a bit...over the top and unnecessary, and I just wanted to let you know that I’m perfectly aware of that too.”

But Jungkook wasn’t so easily persuaded, the burning anguish from the loss still eating away at his heart. “Then why’d you do it in the first place?” he fired back, his voice filled with spite. 

He watched, as a subtle, mysterious smirk appeared on the Seeker’s face. 

“I couldn’t help it,” he said. “The once in a lifetime chance for a measly, faceless Slytherin like me to tarnish the reputation of the glorious Jeon Jungkook, the pride and trophy of the entire Gryffindor House...you don’t actually blame me, do you?” 

Jungkook’s chest tightened threateningly upon hearing his casual yet piercing words. 

“Don’t tell me you waited until that exact moment to catch the Snitch,” Jungkook spoke, his eyes widened. 

His newfound rival shrugged, the mysterious smile so beguiling, almost dangerous.

“You’re so rude,” he said casually. “We all know so much about you yet you didn’t even bother to learn my name?”

“What--”

The boy took one step closer, offering an outstretched hand to Jungkook.

“Park Jimin,” he smiled brightly. “Nice to finally officially meet you.”

On impulse, Jungkook took his hand without thinking. Jimin’s grip was firm and convincing, and Jungkook saw a strange twinkle in his eyes that he hadn’t noticed before. 

“Also...I’d tell you whether or not I’d planned it all along,” Jimin spoke slowly. “But you probably wouldn’t believe me either way.”

He let go of Jungkook’s hand, turning his back and heading for the door. For the first time in a long while, Jungkook was rendered completely speechless. 

But, as courteous as Jimin was, he didn’t leave without leaving Jungkook a few last words:

“I am a Slytherin after all.”

✧✧✧

“Slytherins suck man,” Taehyung hummed, kicking back on his stool as he downed his Butterbeer.

Hoseok nearly spit out his drink. “Well, that escalated quickly.”

In the olden days, Hogwarts students had only been permitted to visit the lovely village of Hogsmeade on the weekend, but for awhile now, that restriction had been lifted, and the students were allowed out for a break whenever they fell fit so long as it didn’t clash with their school schedules--many professors seemed to agree that it would be better for students to buy some sweets or go on dates to distract themselves rather than wander into the more precarious areas of the school grounds in their free time. 

The group of five males were comfortably seated at the Three Broomsticks, each well-comforted with their own individual foaming hot mugs of Butterbeer. Taehyung and Hoseok had gotten a table as promised, and was later joined by their close friends and older 7th year Ravenclaw students Kim Seokjin and Kim Namjoon. 

Jungkook didn’t even recall how they even got to that conversation topic, but upon hearing Taehyung’s statement, Jungkook said nothing--partly because of the recent strange encounter he’d had with Park Jimin that he’d chosen to keep quiet about until now. 

Another part was due to the fact that he already knew full well of the majority of the school’s views on Slytherins. Ever since the last Wizarding War, Slytherins had suddenly obtained the reputation of being vile, devious, and calculating, and everyone abided by that generalization. Jungkook, on the other hand, was a brave and proud Gryffindor, the house that was considered a direct lineage from the legendary Harry Potter himself. Everyone loved Gryffindors, everyone wanted to be a Gryffindor. They surely were the central house of Hogwarts, their mention always coming hand in hand with the reputable image of their school. On the other hand, no one liked the kind of snakes that was associated with the horrible image of Voldemort himself. Times had changed, and nowadays it seemed even the Hufflepuffs had a better reputation than the Slytherins most of the time. 

And it showed in their daily social lives as well. Jungkook, as well as most of his Gryffindor friends, had no qualms in incorporating numerous Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs into their main groups of friends. But rarely did one see a green robe amidst the red. Considering the history of their houses, it was almost taboo for Gryffindor and Slytherin students to associate, with very few exceptions. Besides, it was clear to Jungkook that the Slytherins’ sense of elitism prevented them from dwindling with the “other students”, and it was hard to befriend one in their first place due to their conniving natures--you never knew which one to trust.

“What about Yoongi?” Namjoon asked suddenly. “He’s cool. You all like him.”

“Yeah but that’s Yoongi,” Taehyung retorted. “He’s not in that House by choice, he’s in that House because no one can imagine him anywhere else. He belongs there.”

“Doesn’t that go for everyone?” Seokjin said pointedly. 

“How naive,” Taehyung cackled. “That’s what they want you to think. Without realizing that the single choice was literally the difference between Harry Potter and Tom Riddle. Besides, didn’t the Sorting Hat say you had potential in other places? I was a Hat Stall, you know. Could’ve been a Gryffindor. You know, because I’m the main character of every story.”

“Oh yeah. I was almost considered as a Ravenclaw by the Sorting Hat,” Jungkook pointed out suddenly.

“Yeah see--wait, seriously?” Taehyung choked. 

“What do you mean ‘seriously?’” Namjoon asked. “Jungkookie is a smart kid.”

Taehyung stared at Namjoon for a good few seconds, trying to figure out if he was being sarcastic or not. 

“Well, we’ll truly see when his OWLs come out next year,” Taehyung mumbled to himself.

“Oh yeah, how’s that going by the way?” Seokjin caught on at once. “You’ve been studying well for awhile now, right Jungkook?”

“Don’t look at me,” Hoseok said. “I got through that mess last year. Did alright though.”

“You know people study for that from like third year,” Namjoon noted. 

“Relax,” Taehyung drawled, grabbing onto Jungkook’s shoulders suddenly. “He’ll be fine. Besides, no one’s going to call the great Jeon Jungkook anything less than Acceptable--he’s Gryffindor’s prodigy boy. Besides, he’s probably gonna go play Quidditch anyways. Even if he fails I’m sure they’ll give him a slight nudge and let him chug along anyways.”

“You know this is school, right?” Seokjin noted. “Not a popularity contest.”

“Whatever, whatever, Head Boy,” Taehyung smirked, waving his hands dismissively. “Clearly you don’t know the true powers of the incredible and beautiful Jeon Jungkookie~”

Hoseok, in the meantime, was staring at him in disgust. “What is he? A House Elf?” he spoke. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not drruuunk~” Taehyung murmured again, tilting his head over so that he was leaning on Hoseok’s shoulder. 

“Oh my god,” Hoseok sighed. “I think we gotta go. If the professors catch us on the way back to the Common Room, this won’t be good.”

“Just tell them what happened, what’s the big deal?” said Seokjin.

Hoseok gave Seokjin an exasperated look. “Would you believe it if I told you he got tipsy off Butterbeer?”

“...no.”

“Exactly,” Hoseok sighed, draping Taehyung’s arm over his shoulder and pulling him off his stool. “I’m sorry about this, guys. We’ll see you soon.”

Hoseok dragged Taehyung away, mumbling something about how Hufflepuff might’ve actually had a chance for the House Cup this year but not anymore.

“So Jungkookie, what have you been up to?” Namjoon asked. “You’ve been so busy lately we haven’t seen you at all.”

Jungkook shrugged. “Nothing much, really.”

“We heard about the game,” Seokjin said nonchalantly. “I hope you don’t feel responsible or anything.”

Another shrug, indicating his confused state. If he had been his regular self, he probably would’ve gotten over it already, especially with his friends trying to comfort him like this. If it weren’t for...

“Heyyy, Earth to Jungkook,” Namjoon called, waving his hand in front of Jungkook’s face. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest then? It’s been a long day. Sleep has a tendency to heal a lot of things.”

“Oh right, sure,” Jungkook snapped back to attention, trying not to get distracted by the image of that person. “Of course...uh, what were talking about?”

Seokjin sighed. “Go home and get some rest. You seem like you need it.”

“Oh, true,” Jungkook mumbled, his brain still not entirely in the right place.

“Jungkook?” Seokjin called again.

“Hmm?”

“You gonna be alright?”

Jungkook paused for a second, before standing up and giving the obvious answer. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he spoke, grabbing his stuff. “I’ll feel better by tomorrow morning. Are you guys coming with or...?”

Namjoon and Seokjin swiftly exchanged glances with each other. Jungkook, as mentally and physically exhausted as he was, still managed to take the hint.

“No, I think we’ll be good,” Seokjin answered. “We’re just gonna...stay here a little more and just do some talking.”

“Yeah, we haven’t had a decent night out in a while you see,” Namjoon replied. 

Jungkook nodded. “I’ll be off then,” he smiled weakly. “Thanks for everything guys.”

Namjoon and Seokjin waved politely, and watched intently as Jungkook waved back one last time before walking out the door, heading back to his dormitories. The both of them immediately leaned back in their seats, letting out simultaneous exasperated sighs as if they had been waiting this entire time to get it out of their systems.

“What do you think it is?” Seokjin said, keeping his tones still slightly hushed, as if he still feared the thought that Jungkook could still be around. “There’s gotta be something else. He’s nowhere near angry enough. He’s...pliant almost.”

Namjoon rubbed his fingers into his temple, attempting to think even deeper. “You don’t think someone got to him did you?” he spoke. “You know how Slytherins get snarky. They might’ve hit his ego in a wrong spot or something.”

Seokjin shrugged, wrapping the blue scarf tighter around his neck to warm himself up a bit more. “Maybe we’re just overanalyzing. Maybe he’s truly mature enough now to not get worked up over such things, being the captain and all.”

A final sip of Butterbeer entered between Namjoon’s lips before he placed his mug down, his eyes glinting as if he was suddenly understanding something.

“Yeah,” Namjoon mumbled. “He’s...growing up, isn’t he?”

✧✧✧

Jeon Jungkook had made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room just in time for his usual curfew, but he found he didn’t have it in himself to crawl into bed yet, despite how exhausted his mind was feeling. Instead, he kept pacing back and forth on the common room floors without changing into pajamas, with some nagging feeling in the back of his head that he couldn’t quite pin down. Something had been left unresolved. His thoughts were restless and there was a strange feeling in his chest. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Before long, he found his feet taking him down the Grand Staircase and out of the main building, taking him towards the one and only place which could bring peace by distracting him. After all, a true Gryffindor always had an uncanny knack for sneaking into the wrong places, at the wrong time, yet always getting out (mostly) unscathed. 

Before long, he found himself in the Quiddtich Training Grounds. He quickly made his way over to an abandoned shed where he’d managed to stash an extra broom--one of the cheaper ones they used to train the first year students--for use in times like this. He quickly clambered on it and lifted off into the deep, evening sky, naturally swerving this way and that, practicing his school-famous flying maneuvers, trying to empty his mind of all thoughts. It was the one place where he felt at peace, flying without wings, in the sky where he somehow naturally excelled beyond everyone else. 

Before long, he had become accustomed to the cool breeze threaded through his hair and touched upon his skin. His body finally felt calmed, and he had forgotten whatever it was that was bothering him before. He did a final loop before landing gracefully on the soft field, finally ready to call it a night.

“That was some pretty smooth flying, Jeon Jungkook,” a voice suddenly called out of nowhere. 

Instinctively, Jungkook jumped, hand into his chest pocket where he kept his wand. But when he looked up, the person he saw was not a professor nor a monster like he’d expected, but rather someone completely unexpected. 

The person stepped closer to Jungkook. He pushed back his blonde locks to reveal his forehead, the familiar sly yet simultaneously charming smile plastered on his face like he had been born with it. He, just like Jungkook, was still dressed in his school uniform, though without the black robe adorning his shoulders. 

And Jungkook didn’t know why, but as soon as he saw the Slytherin seeker, the feelings which he’d tried so hard to ignore suddenly came rushing back again despite his efforts.

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked, slightly terrified at the certain prospects of his situation.

“I was wandering the halls, when I noticed you were doing the same,” Jimin shrugged. “Curious, I decided to follow to see where you were headed. I never thought you’d end up here.”

Jungkook remained speechless, still worried about the consequences. 

“Relax,” Park Jimin spoke, still smiling. “I won’t tell anyone you’re here past curfew.”

Jungkook gulped. “I could say the same to you.”

Unexpectedly, Jimin shook his head. 

“I actually have special permission to be here, unlike you, Jeon Jungkook,” said Jimin. “Hooch noticed my busy schedule and supposed lack of prior experience despite my desire of wanting to join the Slytherin team. So she’s allowed me to use the Training Grounds off hours.” Jungkook suddenly noticed Jimin was also clutching a training broom in his right hand. 

Jimin threw another smile at Jungkook’s direction.

“I’m not like you, Gryffindor,” he spoke slowly, the words slipping off his tongue as if he was chanting some sort of dangerous spell. “I was never ‘naturally talented’ at any of this. I couldn’t even control my broom for the entire first semester of my time here at Hogwarts. So I had to work with everything I had. I hope you understand.”

“Why...are you telling me this?” Jungkook inquired, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He was out here in the middle of the night having a conversation with a Slytherin. If anyone caught him, his reputation would be as good as over. Plus, there was no telling what Jimin was actually planning.

“So there’s no animosity between us,” Jimin answered, avoiding Jungkook’s eyes as he gazed towards the dark sky above them. “Like I said, I hope you understand. It was a chance for all my efforts to pay off and be completely noticed for the first time--granted, I had to sacrifice your dignity in exchange. But now, people are finally becoming curious about me. You’d probably do the same in my situation.”

“You didn’t have to do it like that,” Jungkook grumbled before he could help it. He was referring to the way Jimin had clearly hid the Snitch away only to reveal at a climatic moment in the middle of the field. He still vividly recalled the defeating feeling he’d experienced, as that seemingly hopeful moment of recovering was crushed in an instant. 

“But that would’ve been no fun,” said Jimin. “I am a Slytherin, after all.”

As he spoke the last words, he tilted his head towards Jungkook, who found himself unable to stop staring. He didn’t know if it was his tired brain conjuring up detrimental ideas, but for some reason Jimin looked strangely captivating with his slightly long golden hair drifting through the wind like that, and that ambiguous half smile with so many mysteries and hidden intentions behind it. 

“How about this?” Jimin said suddenly, interrupting Jungkook’s drifting thoughts. “I don’t expect you to forgive me so quickly. I probably wouldn’t either if I were you. So...what if you played a game with me? If I win the game, you forgive me. And if you win the game, I’ll agree to any one thing you request of me.”

Jungkook’s ears perked. He was always one for a challenge. And the stakes seemed to be in entirely in his favour, regardless of the outcome. 

“I’m listening,” Jungkook voiced his interest at once. 

Jimin smirked. “That’s what I’d figured you would say.” He suddenly reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wand. 

Jungkook froze. “Don’t tell me--”

“Accio.”

After a few seconds, a red silk bag suddenly rushed out of the school building and into Jimin’s palm. Jungkook’s eyes widened as he realized what it was that was inside, squirming and writhing for freedom.

He gaped in disbelief. “How did you--?” 

“I told you, special permissions,” Jimin grinned. “How am I supposed to train to be a Seeker without a Snitch?”

Jungkook had no retort, as he stared at the bag, transfixed, and slightly impressed at how Jimin had managed to convince the professors to give him a Golden Snitch to practice with in his free time.

“So how about it?” Jimin asked. “No destruction of property and no wands with the exception of absolute emergencies. First one to catch the Golden Snitch after it gets a 30 second head start wins. Also, you can’t get caught by anyone otherwise you’re eliminated. It’s gonna be difficult because it’s pretty dark out. Are you still up for it?”

Jungkook contemplated for a few seconds, trying to figure out if there was a catch, though his blood was already pumping at the prospect of being able to have a Quidditch battle at night when no one else was watching. 

“Wait a minute, I’m not a Seeker though,” Jungkook said. “I’m just a Chaser. Shouldn’t that give you an advantage?”

Jimin blatantly scoffed in Jungkook’s face. “Everyone knows how you fly, Jeon Jungkook. The only reason why you’re not a Seeker is because your flying abilities are so valuable that they should be utilized at all times, not just when the Snitch is released.” 

Jungkook couldn’t help but grinning a little at the fact that Jimin knew this. He could literally feel his ego inflating, even if just a little bit. 

“Thanks,” Jungkook responded dumbly, not even sure if it was the proper answer. And from the way Jimin laughed at him, he realized that it was probably not. 

But for some reason, it didn’t feel too bad. Not at all. 

Jimin reached out as the broom rapidly whizzed to his palm, mounting it promptly. Jungkook nodded as he did the same, his heart thumping eagerly in his chest.

“Ready?” Jimin asked, as he undid the drawstring of the bag. Jungkook watched as the Snitch whizzed excitedly at its freedom, already shooting away at remarkable speeds. 

“You know it,” Jungkook answered, his eyes changing. He also had his pride as Gryffindor’s Quidditch Captain on this line. No way was he gonna lose this. Jimin and Jungkook narrowed their eyes in anticipation, both of them already shaking on their tippy toes, ready to launch on the count. 

“Okay then,” Jimin smiled. “Then...3...2...1.”

They both kicked off and accelerated rapidly, reaching extreme speed and height within an impressive amount of time, despite using training brooms. They both swerved towards the direction they saw the Snitch heading, over one of the stone bridges of the school building, racing neck and neck. They launched themselves over treetops and swerved around corners with remarkable control, refusing to give in even just a little. Though Jungkook was known for his ability to accelerate in record time and impeccable control, he was surprised to find that Jimin was right on his tail. 

Hmm...he’s not bad. At all. Jungkook thought. But I’m better.

Without even looking back, Jungkook took an unexpected dive towards what seemed to be impenetrable wall. However, beneath some protruding stone there was a narrow crack which he tilted his body and managed to cut through with an impressive amount of agility. One turn within a narrow, deserted alleyway followed by a quick shot upwards brought him back out to the exterior, with Jimin nowhere in sight and likely left way behind due to his sudden shortcut. 

He couldn’t help but smirk to himself, trying to imagine the shocked look on Jimin’s face when he managed to pull that off.

Taking a quick breather from his sudden lead, he found himself at a vantage point that allowed him to see quite a large field of vision, despite it being the evening. He squinted his eyes, desperately trying to make out the tiny Snitch. He suddenly understood why Jimin suggested this battle--not only was it a battle of flying alone, but also a battle of vision, as a keen eye was a valuable possession for any exemplary Seeker.

Fortunately, Jungkook also had almost perfect night vision.

And that’s when he saw it. A yellow glimmer in the distance towards where a forest of trees loomed. It could’ve been anything, even a mistake. But Jeon Jungkook was a true Gryffindor, and as true Gryffindors usually were, he wasted no time in following his instincts and immediately accelerated as rapidly as he could towards the sparkling object.

Though it appeared that Jeon Jungkook was shooting at his maximum speeds, he was actually being moderately cautious this time--he’d let his neglect for his surroundings get the better of him once, and he wasn’t about to let it happen again. So he flew at a speed lenient enough to allow him to still keep a steady eye on every other movement around him.

The twinkle again, but this time, much closer, and this time, he knew for sure that it was the Golden Snitch, sparkling and beckoning him to come closer for the victory. He smirked to himself, as he already started to fantasize about what  favours he would make Park Jimin do.

Suddenly super motivated, the Gryffindor Chaser pointed the nose of his broom downwards, accelerating to his maximum speeds at last. He was ready to reach his arm out, literal seconds away from finally gaining back his pride--

A wisp of gold, suddenly appearing out of nowhere and blocking his way.

“WHERE’D YOU COME FROM?” Jungkook couldn’t help but screech in pure disbelief, when he suddenly found himself tailing behind Park Jimin in their pursuit of the Golden Snitch.

He heard a bubbling laughter from the front which did nothing to ease his already tormented mindset.

“You managed to look in all directions, even behind you impressively,” he heard Jimin shout from in front of him. “But you forgot to look above you.”

Jungkook felt the blood pumping in his ears again, as an unexplainable surge of excitement coursed through him.

“Were you circling above me this entire time?” he asked, incredulous.

“Some of us prefer not to use flashy tricks, Gryffindor,” Jimin said, before abruptly gaining speed again.

Jungkook suddenly realized what was going on, and that he was now seconds away from losing this battle. And that wasn’t an option. Gritting his teeth, he used everything he had left to chase after Jimin, until they were finally side by side. The Snitch was still whizzing in front of them, but was slowing failing to shake them of their tail despite its abrupt changes in direction.

“Give up, Park Jimin,” Jungkook growled, as he lunged forwards, trying to grab at the flying ball. “I lost once I’m not gonna lose again.”

“Oh? You finally learned my name,” Jimin retorted. Jungkook was feeling his presence more than ever, now that they were side by side, chasing after a single goal. “I beg to differ, Jeon Jungkook--once you defeat someone once it’s not hard to believe you can do it a second time.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile to himself. He suddenly found himself seeing Park Jimin in an entirely new light--the boy clearly didn’t know when to give up. And somehow, he appreciated that. It reminded him of a certain someone he  was all too familiar with.

But there was no time for pleasant thoughts. The Snitch suddenly made an aberrant move, diving madly towards one of the corners of the school building, ready to round it and disappear out of sight again. But Jungkook had seen this before, back when he was training to be the prospective Seeker for the team.

Mercilessly, being the quicker one, Jungkook aggressively cut his broom in front of Jimin, forcing him to the inner side and trapping him as they headed straight for the corner, ensuring that he would round the corner first. But Jimin wasn’t giving up, trying to push as close as possible to the wall without getting hurt. But it was useless, he would have no choice but to back out and go behind Jungkook. 

Sorry Jimin, it’s my win this time. 

“AHHHH!”

Jungkook suddenly halted when he heard the pained scream shoot through the otherwise silent night. His blood ran cold, as he realized that in his desire to win, he had caused something horrible to happen.

Oh my god, I’m an idiot.

In a deranged fury, Jungkook immediately halted his broom to turn around and expect the worst.

His voice started to cracked as he called out to his opponent. “Jimin, I’m so sorry I--”

A sudden whiz passed by him, his hair and clothes being picked up by the fast wind. It all happened in a blur, and he didn’t even realize what was going on for the first few seconds. He soon noticed that it was empty behind him, where there should’ve been carnage, and in front of him was Park Jimin floating triumphantly on his broom, clutching the struggling Snitch between his thumb and index finger with a glorious smile on his face, as if  it was the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life.

Jungkook was in disbelief. Breathing heavily he managed a “You...you...you tricked me.”

Jimin’s smile only widened. “I win,” he declared proudly.

And when Jimin broke out into his bubbling laughter, tilting his head back and simply enjoying the moment, Jungkook felt a surge of something through his heart, and it was in that moment that he finally realized he had messed up in more ways than one.

Yeah, he had lost. Absolutely and again. Probably in the most miserable way possible.

But seeing Jimin laugh like this...it almost felt good. 

He almost wanted to do it all over again. 

The two of them slowly drifted back towards the Training Ground, with Jimin laughing gleefully all the way, while Jungkook was training to control this strange, confusing and overwhelming mess of emotions which he had never dealt with before.

“Now, you need to keep your end of the promise,” Jimin reminded Jungkook, as he slipped the Snitch back into its pouch for safe-keeping again.

“Oh, right,” Jungkook mumbled, words suddenly not working well with him. “I, uh, I forgive you.” What am I forgiving him for again?

But of course, Park Jimin wasn’t done tormenting him as it was.

“Hold on,” Jimin replied at once. “I never said I was going to accept your apology that easily. Don’t you think you were being much too harsh for someone so soft and fragile like me?”

Normally, Jungkook would’ve scoffed and called him out. Saying that it was Jimin’s problem, not his. But for some reason, his tongue refused to cooperate, and he couldn’t do anything but keep his eyes fixed on Jimin, who, as if by some mysterious incantation, was becoming more and more attractive to him by the second.

“So...uh...what do you...what do you want me to do?” Jungkook asked. For some reason, Jungkook suddenly wasn’t so impartial to the idea of being able to spend more time with Park Jimin after this.

Jimin pushed his hair back and smiled brightly at Jungkook. “Meet me here at the exact same time tomorrow, and every week after that for a month. If you’re so willing to see me, then I’ll accept that you’ve truly forgiven me.”

Jungkook was stunned at the awfully odd request.

“You make a good practice buddy,” Jimin continued. “Practicing by myself has its limit. So help me out for a month.”

“What if I get caught?” Jungkook protested. “I can’t be here so freely. I don’t have ‘special permissions’, unlike you.”

“Well then,” Jimin replied at once. “That’s too bad for you. See you tomorrow night, Gryffindor.” He was already turning on his heels to leave. 

“Wait!” 

The word slipped out of Jungkook’s mouth before his brain could catch up. Jimin had already stopped his tracks and caught his eyes. 

Oh? He has pretty eyes too?

Jungkook gulped. He knew he had wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure exactly what. It seemed that he just wanted to prolong the moment, even for just a few seconds. 

“Everything alright, Jeon Jungkook?” Jimin asked, slightly amused. 

“I think you’re really good at Quidditch,” Jungkook blurted, instinctively, as the first thing on his mind. 

For the first time, Jimin appeared shocked for a few a seconds, but that quickly melted into his usual smile again.

“I couldn’t hear you,” Jimin spoke. 

Jungkook stepped closer boldly, as if this was something he suddenly really wanted Jimin to hear when he repeated:

“Park Jimin, I think you’re really good at flying.”

Jimin broke out into laughter, and for a second Jungkook thought an angel had blessed his ears. 

“That means a lot coming from you, O Legendary Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team,” Jimin grinned. “But you haven’t seen anything yet. This is only the beginning.”

Jimin was started to walk away again, but this time with a strange little bounce in his steps that Jungkook couldn’t help but notice. 

“Sleep tight, Jeon Jungkook!” Jimin yelled gleefully over his shoulders. “Try not to see me in your nightmares tonight.” 

And with that Park Jimin was gone. Not realizing that he’d left Jungkook there, alone, barely clutching onto his broomstick with a dazed smile on his face and his heart thumping in a way it never had before. He attempted to take a step back towards the entrance to the school, but found himself to be light-headed.

And when Jungkook briefly recalled those charming eyes and bewitching smile,  he suddenly felt strange lurch in his chest. 

Oh boy...

✧✧✧

“Jungkook, there’s egg on your face.”

Jungkook immediately snapped back to reality, reaching to wipe his mouth. “Sorry,” he said to Taehyung. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Good. You didn’t hear us shit-talking you for the past five minutes,” Taehyung rolled his eyes. 

“What? Seriously?”

“No. You idiot. You actually weren’t paying attention for the past five minutes I can’t believe you.”

Their usual group of friends were sat in the Great Hall for breakfast, the sky above them as clear as day. Over the past few years, the school had finally abolished the year old ritual of segregation by houses, and students could sit wherever they wanted for informal gatherings such as breakfast, lunch or dinner. Students were nowadays encouraged to set their differences aside and mingle between all the different houses, and get to learn good things from everyone.  However, despite the mixture of red, blue and yellow amongst most tables, there remained a large strip of green for the long table closest to the doors by the entrance to the Great Hall, as if tradition had never changed for the Slytherins. 

Of course, there were always a few exceptions.

“Oi, Jungkook, what’s up with you anyway?” 7th year Slytherin Min Yoongi groaned aloud before munching on a slice of ham.

“Are you ill?” Hoseok asked in concern, from his seat right next to Yoongi. 

“No, no, I’m fine,” Jungkook muttered. “I just...didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Ah, you’re a sore loser, aren’t you?” Yoongi couldn’t help but snark. “It’s okay, I personally slept like a baby last night. It was a good day for us D-boys.”

“D-boys?” Namjoon asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Dungeon Boys,” Yoongi stated, as if it should’ve been the most obvious thing in the world. “You know, cause our Common Room is a Dungeon?”

“That will never sound appealing to me. Living in a hipster dungeon,” Seokjin commented nonchalantly. 

“Shut up. It beats getting stuck outside your posh-ass lily adorned tower cause you don’t know the answer to one of those elitist dad jokes,” Yoongi shot back. 

“Those are not dad jokes, those are certified Ravenclaw riddles for your information,”  Seokjin grimaced, fully offended. 

“Can we focus here?” Taehyung interjected. “Jungkook’s having a crisis here. We should worry about him first.” 

“Guys, I’m fine, really,” Jungkook insisted. “Couldn’t have been better.”

“Really? What time did you fall asleep last night?” Seokjin interrogated swiftly. 

Jungkook shrugged. “I dunno...like 4 a.m.?”

“What the hell were you doing up at that time?” Hoseok asked.

“I was...uhhh...doing laundry.”

The entire group promptly glared at him. 

“That excuse doesn’t work here, Jungkook. a) we’re not your naive parents and b) we don’t do even do our own laundry here,” Taehyung frowned.

“Just tell us the truth man, we won’t tell anyone,” Hoseok insisted.

“Yeah,” Seokjin agreed. “You’re our Gryffindor baby. We would never say or do anything to make you feel uncomfortable.”

Jungkook considered his options for his seconds, weighing the genuineness of their words. 

“You sure you won’t tell anyone?” he spoke.

“Promise,” Namjoon nodded, on behalf of the rest of them. 

Jungkook took a deep breath. 

“I met up with Park Jimin last night.”

A chorus of gasps echoed amongst the five of them and Jungkook immediately knew he’d made a mistake. The variety in emotional reaction was quite impressive: Seokjin and Namjoon looked concerned and displeased grandparents while Hoseok and Taehyung had their faces scrunched up in disgust, almost as if Jungkook had just sold away their most well-kept secrets. 

Yoongi was only one grinning. “Park Jimin,” he repeated the name, playing with it on his tongue. “I know that kid. I like him. He’s a bit too naturally erotic for his own good though.”

Hoseok stared at him in horror. “Why are you talking about real people like that?”

Yoongi shrugged. “Have you seen him?” 

“No, but--”

Namjoon raised his head. “I saw him once. Passed by him in the halls. The way he walks though. I wasn’t even trying to pay attention and...” His voice trailed off as he realized Seokjin looked livid, ready to choke the living hell out of Namjoon. 

Jungkook was bewildered. “I don’t think he’s like that.” 

“Oh, what do you know? You’re blinded by hate,” Seokjin growled, clearly agitated. Jungkook wasn’t even sure if he was talking to himself or not. 

Jungkook thought about for it a few more seconds. He never really saw Jimin as attractive at first, too consumed by his competitive desire to dominate and outplay him, and it wasn’t until later that he saw him to be beautiful rather than...whatever it was they were describing. Though, it didn’t take him very long to understand their point of view.

Oh. Yup. I totally see it. Jungkook quickly shook it out of his head, trying not to make his situation even worse than it already was. 

“What’d you do with him anyway?” Taehyung spoke up suddenly. “Did you guys get into a scrap or something?”

Jungkook shook his head, starting to think about how much he should tell. “No, we were just...talking.”

“About what though?” Seokjin added. “That’s always the most important part.”

Jungkook was about to answer genuinely, when he heard some snickering from across the table. 

“Maybe Kookie was having some moonlight confessions with the Slytherin Seeker,” Taehyung said suddenly. Jungkook froze, wondering if they were actually onto something.

But then he realized--much to his dismay--that they all had fairly amused looks on their faces. 

“Ha. Can you imagine? If Jeon Jungkook, the Gryffindor pride, actually messed around with a Slytherin? Oh man, what a knee slapper!” Hoseok spoke in a mocking voice, and finished with a loud, obnoxious laugh. 

Jungkook felt his heart sink to its depths, as the vibrant sound of their joyous laugher completely crushed the seedlings of his ludicrous fantasies. 

“Stop teasing him!” Seokjin scolded. “Why would even suggest something ridiculous like that? Jungkook would never.”

But even Yoongi was laughing. “Oh man, you guys kill me. Jungkook, of all people, the most ‘Gryffindorest’ person I know. With a Slytherin. That’s actually hilarious.”

“Please,” Namjoon interjected, placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “As if Jungkook could ever be infatuated with someone from the very house who did their best to humiliate him yesterday...and all other days to be honest. Everyone’s got pride and self-love. No way could someone ever fall into something so deprecating.”

“Bro, chill. I was just kidding,” said Taehyung, as he tore at a chicken drumstick. “As if Jungkook would even get close to those snakes in the first place. Other than to fight them, of course.”

“Hello? I’m sitting right here,” Yoongi waved, slightly annoyed but simultaneously used to the usual chirps Taehyung (and others) liked to poked at his house. 

“I already said you’re different,” Taehyung reassured. He reached over and wrapped an arm around Yoongi who swiftly pushed it off. Before anyone could stop them, they had commenced their usual debate of whether Hufflepuff or Slytherin was truly superior nowadays within the modern social hierarchy of Hogwarts. 

Jungkook chose to zone them out, having a whole new set of problems to deal with. He desperately tried to keep a grimace from appearing on his face but he wasn’t sure if it was working, so he tried to cover it up by drinking some more pumpkin juice. His chest was starting to acquire that extremely tight, uncomfortable feeling again, as that conversation wasn’t at all what he’d wanted to hear at all. He’d hoped that he could introduce the prospects of a new friend to the group, but from the way they had all reacted, that was far from reality. In fact, he wasn’t even sure if he could keep all their comments from affecting his own personal judgment of Park Jimin. 

Jungkook held back a sigh, wondering what to do with himself when the evening would finally arrive again. That fluttering feeling when he was with Jimin had been pleasant, and he’d wanted to explore for a bit longer, but at this rate it seemed that he would have to seal it all off in order to keep all his current relationships as they were. 

As Jungkook raised the goblet to his lips again, he noticed someone in the corner of his eye. As if with impeccable timing, Park Jimin had suddenly risen from his seat along with some of his friends, having finished their meal. Before he could help himself, Jungkook was staring again, intent on observing his former acquaintance within his natural surroundings. 

He truly had a lovely smile, similar to the one he threw at Jungkook several times last night, but this one seemed more genuine. The way his blonde hair gently toppled amongst itself as he leaned back in laughter was quite nice to look at from a distance. Jungkook continued watching as Jimin gestured for his friends to go ahead of him,s tarting to pack several large books back into his bag. 

At last, he was done, and Jungkook quickly tore his eyes away as he realized Jimin was headed towards his direction, or at least passing by the table in front of him. He pretended to indulge in his pumpkin juice again, when he suddenly made the mistake of glancing upwards. 

Namjoon was right. There certainly was something mesmerizing about the way Jimin moved, every sway of his hips slightly more captivating than it should be. And then Jungkook was staring again, the goblet still pressed awkwardly against his lips. His eyes raked over Jimin’s pretty guise, his heart thumping way faster than it ought to.

And that’s when it happened.

In a decisive moment, Jimin glanced over towards Jungkook, right when he was passing right in front of him, as if he’d been aware that Jungkook was watching him all along. Jungkook’s breath hitched in his throat. Jimin met eye contact with him for barely more than a second, but it was more than enough to give him a slight smirk and nod to acknowledge their acquaintance.

Oh...wow... 

And suddenly, a loud clatter resonated from where they were sitting, causing Jung Hoseok to curse and nearly jump out of his seat.

The sound immediately brought Jungkook back to reality, and when he looked back Jimin was nowhere to be seen. All that remained was his now empty goblet that had evidently slipped out of his hand and crashed onto the floor in his dazed moment. 

“Jungkook, are you okay?” Namjoon asked in concern, as he rushed to clean the orange-coloured juice off Jungkook’s robes. 

“Um...there’s some juice dripping out of your mouth...” Seokjin commented, half in concern, half in disgust. 

Jungkook hurriedly wiped himself down, in order to decrease the amount of attention he was suddenly attracting. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook muttered, embarrassed. “I just...um...zoning out. Really sorry.”

“See this is what you happens when you don’t get enough sleep,” said Seokjin matter-of-factly. 

“Okay, mom,” Jungkook responded boldly. 

“It’s fine. You didn’t miss much anyways,” Hoseok frowned as he waved his hand dismissively. “Those two are still going at it.” He nodded at the Slytherin and Hufflepuff sat next to him, glaring at each other viciously. 

“Fight me, Min Yoongi,” Taehyung was growling. “You and me. Duel after D.A. tomorrow. Hoseok’s the referee.

The owner of the mentioned spit out his mouthful of potatoes, much to everyone’s else distaste. 

“WHAT?! Why me?!” Hoseok protested. “Get Namjoon to do it. He’d probably be more fair.”

“Nah, we like you,” Yoongi and Taehyung both said simultaneously. 

Hoseok suddenly revoked his stance, softening at once and even seeming slightly flattered as indicated by his partial smile. 

“What does that make me?” Namjoon muttered, slightly offended.

Jungkook silently groaned to himself. Sure, they were excited about duelling with each other, but none of them seemed to care that he would be dealing with the most difficult battle of them all--an internal battle against himself. 

Careful not to let them notice, Jungkook slowly slumped into his arms on the free space on the dining table and buried his head into them. 

Their mocking laughter echoed in his ears, followed by the vivid imagery of Jimin’s smile. 

Jungkook let out a sigh at last.

His heart was probably going to be torn apart at this rate.

✧✧✧

That evening, Jungkook walked towards the Training Grounds with more bravado than he could ever expect. In the hours between his last conversation with his friends until now, he had somehow managed to convince himself that maybe, just maybe he wasn’t infatuated with Jimin like he thought he was at all.

As Jungkook kept walking, he started contemplating other possibilities. Maybe, it was much too soon to jump to such rash conclusions. Maybe, in the heat of the adrenaline, he had mistaken his excitement for some other feelings. Maybe, it was his first time meeting a slightly strange person so his brain justified for his lack of social skills by making him constantly think about that person. Maybe, he wouldn’t have to worry about causing any turmoil as a Gryffindor after all. Maybe--

A pair of soft, small hands suddenly snuck around his face and covered his eyes. Before he could be startled, he felt a lingering breath on his ear, followed by a familiar voice in the gentlest whisper:

“Guess who?”

The hands removed themselves, and then Park Jimin was in front of him, smiling brightly and standing much closer than he’d ever intended for them to be.

Jungkook’s heart did a complete 180, plummeted in its cavern, rose back up and did a few flips before slamming against chest full force. 

Haha, nope.

“H-h-hey,” Jungkook said smoothly. 

“You’re awfully timely, Mr. Jeon Jungkook,” Jimin drawled out his name in a way that made him want to slam his head against a wall so it would echo in his brain forever. “Maybe you really do wanna forgive me.”

“O-of course,” Jungkook replied, mindlessly following Jimin like a puppy. “So, uh, should I get my broom or...?”

Jimin turned on his heels, tilting his head at Jungkook. “Oh? No need for that right now. Follow me.”

Jungkook jolted a little, before obediently following Jimin back towards an alleyway hidden between the stone walls of the school buildings. He was slightly surprised that Jimin knew of a place within Hogwarts that even he didn’t know. 

Gradually, Jungkook became more and more aware of how narrow the alleyway was, and more vexingly how close he was to Jimin. He could barely feel the rustling of the other’s clothes on his own, and he was holding his breath, hoping Jimin didn’t notice his hyperawareness. 

“Um, what’s in here?” Jungkook asked cautiously. 

“What are you waiting for?” Jimin replied with his own question. “Take it off.”

“Excuse me?”

“Your robes, take them off,” Jungkook couldn’t help but stare with a gulp as Jimin started unbuttoning his own robe and undoing his tie.

“W-what?”

A tiny laughter escaped Jimin’s throat as he suddenly tapped Jungkook’s shoulder, nudging him aside. It was only then that Jungkook noticed there was an opening in the wall, or rather several missing stones making for a little storage space. And to further demonstrate this, Jimin cast the summoning spell once again, and out came his practice broom and the bag containing the Snitch. He threw his own robes and tie back inside.

“Wouldn’t want them to get ruined, do you?” said Jimin. “Unless you plan on using the hindrance as an excuse when you lose again.”

"Who do you think I am?” Jungkook scoffed. “Are you trying to provoke me on purpose?”

Jimin’s smile only widened. “Always.”

Swiftly, Jungkook immediately followed suit and shoved his own robe and tie into the opening, the competitive spirit already coursing through his veins.

“Also, one more time,” Jimin spoke. “Accio.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened as another broom suddenly hovered in the opening, and he recognized it as none other than the iconic Nimbus 2001 broomstick, the one that Jimin used in game. 

“Bring your Firebolt here next time,” Jimin suggested. “I wanna have a battle with no handicaps.”

“Why do you use the training brooms if you have this one safely kept here?” Jungkook asked out of curiosity.

Jimin shrugged. “I guess I like the challenge,” he spoke. “I like using the training brooms because they’re the bare minimum, so when I actually go out to play, it’ll feel easier.” He paused for a second, and then added as an afterthought. “Plus, I guess I like being mildly restrained.”

Jimin gave Jungkook no time to properly process what he’d just said before he brushed past him and headed back towards the Training Grounds. 

“Grab your training broom and meet me out there,” said Jimin. “We’ll have the same battle as last time?” He waved the wriggling Snitch bag

“I won’t lose this time,” Jungkook said confidently. 

Jimin smiled. “We’ll see about that.”

✧✧✧

Jimin and Jungkook collapsed onto the soft, green grass of the Training Grounds, breathing heavily in satisfaction, with the sweat dripping down their necks and foreheads. Park Jimin laid with his broom falling out of his left hand, while Jungkook’s was still clutched in his right, and the Golden Snitch gripped firmly in his left. 

It had been a fierce battle, neck-in-neck and without mercy. But ultimately, a victor had been determined.

“Good game,” Jimin exhaled, turning over onto his side to look at Jungkook.

“Yeah...” Jungkook sighed, his chest heaving as he remained flat on his back, staring up into the dark sky now speckled with stars. 

“You really wanted to win this time, huh?” Jimin asked softly.

“What? You didn’t?”

“Fair enough. But you flew especially well today.”

“I had to. I couldn’t let you win again.”

“Mmm. If I wasn’t so busy trying to beat you I might’ve swooned for you...”

Jimin shuffled closer. Jungkook tensed, as Jimin’s eyes suddenly appeared in front of him, glimmering mischievously as Jimin leaned over and pressed a hand into his chest. 

“I guess we really do bring out the best in each other huh?” Jimin’s voice was quiet, almost in a whisper. 

Jungkook had forgotten about the butterflies in his stomach up until now (as he had been too focussed on winning), and when they came back in a flurry, he immediately became hyperaware of how nervous he was. He couldn’t even move, and it was as if his body was Petrified. He wondered if it was just in his imagination that Jimin was leaning even closer. 

“Hey, Jungkook, I think you really have forgiven me, haven’t you?” Jimin asked.

Blood. Coursing through Jeon Jungkook’s veins. Pulse. Rapidly beating. Sweat. Dripping endlessly from his temples. Was it the remnants of adrenalin? Or was it something else entirely?

Certainly, Jimin was definitely leaning closer.

“Jungkook?” Jimin called his name. The way it slipped off his tongue felt so right. “What do you say? Have you forgiven me? This was the whole point of this, remember?”

The way Jimin’s fingers were dancing on his chest was so intensely noticeable, it delayed Jungkook’s response a few seconds.

“I...I already said that yesterday,” said Jungkook.

“Said what?”

“That I forgave you.”

Jimin pulled back, seemingly unsatisfied with the response. 

“I don’t believe you,” he said. “You can’t possible forgive me so easily for humiliating you in front of the entire school.”

Jungkook had no idea what Jimin was trying to get him to say or do, it was bothering him immensely. 

“I don’t care about that anymore,” Jungkook replied. “Not since last night.”

“Hmm? Why is that?” Jimin asked. “What’s changed since then?”

“I-I don’t know.”

“I think you do know.”

And then Jimin had moved closer again, his eyes slightly lidded and lips slightly pursed. And from the way Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat, he realized that he did indeed know after all, deep inside. 

“Can you prove it to me, Jungkook?” Jimin hummed. 

“Huh?”

“Show me that you’ve forgiven me.”

It all happened in an instant. In reality, Jimin moved slowly, giving Jungkook plenty of time to move should he choose to. But he didn’t. He let Jimin  move forwards, feeling the weight of his hand pressing into his chest. His eyes fluttered to a half-lidded state as he felt the fleeting warmth on his lips, a soft, gentle sensation that made his head spin as if he was dreaming. 

It lasted barely more than a second, but it was more than enough. 

Jimin slumped onto Jungkook’s shoulders, so that his lips were right next to his ears. “I’ll be busy tomorrow night,” Jimin whispered. “But I’ll let you know when I can see you again. Don’t forget about tonight.”

Jungkook sensed a sudden emptiness from within him. “Jimin, I--”

“Sleep well, Jungkook.”

And then Jimin was gone, with Jungkook still lying there, still feeling completely dazed from everything that had just happened. In fact, he wasn’t sure if even happened at all, or his he’d just dreamed it all up in his exhausted state.

It was another good five minutes before Jungkook could even bring himself to move again. 

✧✧✧

The answer was obvious. And anyone else would’ve known it. It was about time that Jungkook recognized it himself. 

He sighed to himself as he sat up in his bed, barely sleeping a wink last night as he attempted to find alternative answers. But there were none, because the truth was as plain as day. The smile captivated him, those eyes enchanted him, and his words were like an Imperius Curse. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jimin. He liked Jimin. And he could no longer deny that his young, naive heart had fallen for the cunning Slytherin.

Last night, he speculated if Jimin had planned this all along. Seduction seemed second nature to the pretty Slytherin boy, and Jungkook couldn’t help but wonder if he was playing right into his palm without even knowing it. Despite it being a very likely scenario, he knew he was already caught deep in the web, and there was no easy way of getting out now. 

Dragging himself out of his covers, Jungkook decided the best way to approach this was to ask for someone’s else opinion. Getting himself cleaned up, Jungkook quickly changed into his school robes and headed for the dining hall, where his group of tight-knit friends would surely already be waiting for him, filled with wise and unbiased advice. 

As Jungkook rounded the corner, he noticed Kim Taehyung and Jung Hoseok walking ahead of him as if on cue. With a blazing smile on his face, he quickly rushed towards them, opening his mouth to call them.

“It’s like they put all the assholes in one group and called it a House,” Taehyung was saying,

“Yeah, when are they going to abolish the Slytherin house already?” Hoseok agreed spitefully. “Nothing good ever came out of it anyways.”

“When Min Yoongi graduates,” Taehyung joked. They both laughed happily at the comment. 

Jungkook froze in his steps, ccidentally overhearing the conversation they were having. Heaviness weighing down his chest, Jungkook slowly hid behind the one of the pillars in the hallway, heart pounding rapidly as he contemplated what they’d just said.

They surely were not intentionally being hurtful, he was sure--they’d always talked like this, for as long as he’d remembered. And if anything, maybe others in the school shared the same cynical opinion, based on the history that they knew. 

It’s none of my business, Jungkook reassured himself internally. It’s the school’s problem, not mine. Anyways, if that’s that case, then I probably shouldn’t let them know about this. 

Jungkook was torn, and the already sparse pool of people who he could ask for advice had suddenly diminished greatly.

Think, Jungkook, think! Who would offer you decent advice and not be judgmental...

His eyes widened as he realized that there was one person left, the only person who could effectively aid him in his childish endeavours.

✧✧✧

“So basically, you want me to help you get into Park Jimin’s pants?”

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel humbled. Min Yoongi’s blunt way of talking somehow always had a way of revealing a person’s true desires in the most crude way possible. 

They were sitting in an empty classroom, yet for some reason, he couldn’t help but fear that other students--or even worse, a Professor--could be listening in. 

“Well...more or less,” Jungkook mumbled. “But it doesn’t have to be like that right away.”

“I’m surprised,” Yoongi chortled, quite amused at the situation. “I wasn’t kidding when I said I couldn’t imagine a straight-laced Gryffindor like you falling for any Slytherin, let alone the one who stole your thunder so ruthlessly like that.”

“That doesn’t matter to me anymore,” Jungkook said. “It’s the first time I’ve liked someone like this. And I really want to do something about it.”

Yoongi’s expression softened, and his tone suddenly became more understanding. He reached over and patted Jungkook encouragingly on the shoulder. 

“Aw, don’t look so distressed,” Yoongi reassured. “The heart wants what it wants after all.” 

Jungkook calmed down at once, grateful for Yoongi’s rare sympathy. 

A sudden exhale from Yoongi nearly extinguished the relax mood. 

“But I have to warn you,” Yoongi spoke suddenly. “This won’t be easy.”

“W-what do you mean?” Jungkook panicked, stumbling over his words. “Why? Why wouldn’t it be easy?”

“I’m not sure what Park Jimin said or did that made you so head over heels for him,” Yoongi explained carefully. “But you have to realize that he’s a special one--he has that charming effect on a lot of people. You may just be one single red apple in a giant orchard, if you know what I’m trying to say.”

Jungkook remained silent, waiting for Yoongi to elaborate. 

“The point is, you have to stand out amongst the rest,” Yoongi continued. “Be that ripest, biggest, roundest, shiniest apple. Make yourself someone he can’t help but pluck. Only then will he truly be yours.”

It took Jungkook awhile, but eventually he understood. “That’s not a problem,” he grinned. “I’m Jeon Jungkook.” He promptly received a smack on the back of the head. 

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Yoongi scowled. “I’m Jeon Jungkook. Who the fuck do you think you are? Do you ever hear me going around telling the world I’m Min Fucking Yoongi? No. So put a sock in it. No one cares.”

“Can’t you at least let me down gently?” Jungkook complained, rubbing the back of his head.

“Listen, do you want my help or not?” Yoongi shot back. “I don’t care how much those Gryffindor jocks hype you up but to us Slytherins, being an obnoxious, dick-waving Gryffindor immediately gives you a negative ten points on the datable scale. And you, being the Jeon Jungkook who is the practical poster boy of those people, probably makes you at the very least a negative fifty thousand.” He gave another frustrated sigh before continuing again. ���I mean just think about it for two seconds--if he cared at all about you and your name, he would’ve never publicly humiliated you in front of the entire school.”

Jungkook felt utterly defeated. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” Yoongi agreed. “But, no worries. Not all hope is lost. I have an idea. We Slytherins tend to respect those who can outsmart us, so that’s all you gotta do.”

“You want me to outsmart Jimin?” Jungkook gawked. “Do you not realize how my brain practically turns into mush every time I talk to him?”

“It’s not like you can beat him with your non-mushy brain either,” Yoongi grinned, clearly having fun with this at this point. “Which is why you’ll be following my plans step-by-step, and not acting on your own.”

Jungkook contemplated for a few seconds. “Okay...let’s hear it first then.”

Yoongi cleared his throat, looking more and more like a mad scientist by the second--and Jungkook was the guinea pig.

“First, you’ll need some Polyjuice Potion.”

✧✧✧

end of pt. 1

pt. 2 will come. eventually. but not until after i finish my exams probably. XD and ofc it gets complicated so take this as like a sort of teaser and whie you’re in the mood for this kind of trope? :3

the houses were my preference of course, what i’ve always imagined them to be. i had the longest time deciding whether or not to put taehyung into hufflepuff or gryffindor but i figured...he has those badger-like qualities and is super popular and friendly so... :)

also. the second part of this fic will focus more on the dynamics of the Slytherin house and people’s feelings towards it in general. Believe it or not, these “hateful” comments are all real comments I’ve heard about the green house, and I just wanted to address them a little. Being my “second house” recently, I think there’s a lot of qualities of Slytherins that people don’t see or appreciate, and we’ll be definitely be seeing something like that in the second part. Also, I hope that you all kind of a see a bigger image for all of this despite being just a happy go lucky Harry Potter AU--no one should be judged on superficial, pre defined categories ;)

hope you enjoyed! and believe it or not i had this started before any of this run stuff came out, so this just happened to be impeccable timing and simply validated the realness of my characters so that got me even more excited ! ^^

don’t forget to come back for the (juicier) pt 2 :P

[inksandpensblog]

I Embody His Fears

Chapter Six (ch. 1; ch. 2; ch. 3; ch. 4; ch. 5)

“I’d like to know that too, actually,” Mark heard Thomas say.

Virgil shifted. “Well, I didn't think it was so bad at first. I mean, he started talking to me in the first place because he thought we were similar, but apparently we're not.”

Similar? If Dark saw similarities between himself and this Virgil...Mark glanced at Thomas. He’d already proven that he was closer to this ego than Mark and Jack were to most of theirs, especially the sinister ones. Did he need to worry for the other creator? 

Mark and Jack had generally left each other to their own egos, no matter what happened. But since Dark had made the first move here, that might not be an option with him and Thomas.

“Similar how?” Thomas’s face as he prodded was open and trusting, making Mark all the more wary as he turned back to the speaker. 

They both watched as Virgil avoided eye contact by crouching over Chica again. “I was just getting to that when she ran over. Sides and Egos don’t follow the same rules, apparently. We thought they did, but he and I figured out some pretty important differences.” He glanced up at Mark. “If you’ve seen Inside Out, the Sides are a similar concept.”

“So, you’re his...emotions?”

“Yyyyyes and no.” Mark turned as Thomas picked up the slack. “Each one of them is a side of myself; they’re manifestations of my own personality, and each one embodies some of my own traits, and desires, and abilities or functions.” He turned back to the...Side crouched by Mark’s dog. “So really, it’s more like if you combined the concept of the emotion characters with the concept of the islands, kind of?”

“What island would I be? Pretty sure I’m just a Fear-Disgust fusion.” 

“Weeeeeell-”

“Now if Joy and Sadness went to live on Family Island for the rest of their lives, that’d be Patton to at T.” 

“To a...Logan would hate you for that.”

“Yeah, but Princey would be mad he didn’t think of it first.”

“That wasn’t even intentional, was it.”

“No.”

Mark watched their banter, feeling his suspicion ebb away despite himself.

Yes, that was a very big difference. He observed Virgil with new eyes. So this was a piece of Thomas himself? Knowing that, it was a bit harder to reconcile him with Darkiplier, no matter his demeanor.

Then again, it was possible for people to have self-destructive traits. Or aspects of themselves that they hated. Inner demons. But Thomas and Virgil were getting along too well for that to be the case between them. 

“What got you so upset though?” Mark’s attention returned to the conversation when he heard Thomas’s tone change from fond exasperation to puzzlement. “From what I’m aware, you two were just mumbling cordially to each other and then all of a sudden I feel like panicking for no discernable reason.”

“Speaking softly isn’t the same as mumbling,” Virgil huffed, though without much energy. “But yeah, that was probably around the time I realized that he hadn’t meant the same thing I did when I told him I was the embodiment of someone’s fear.”

Oh. 

“So, that’s why you were so eager to get me away from him when I came over to ask what was wrong?” Thomas’s voice was subdued.

“Hey, just because I had a better idea of what he was didn't mean I knew what we’d be dealing with if he decided to try something.” Virgil returned his attention to Mark. “So, what exactly do I need to worry about? I mean, the coercion to pull one over on Thomas has me on edge already, but it’d be nice to know why.”

Mark sighed. “He...doesn't like me. A lot of egos don't like their creators, and we don’t always know why. Sometimes even they don't know. You’re right, conceptually they’re really different from Sides. I won’t say they’re more abstract, but...they’re more separate, I guess. Darkiplier isn’t a part of me in that sense.  I actually...” He bit his lip. “I wrote him as a representation of everything I never want to be. So.” He inhaled, hoping they wouldn't ask him to elaborate. 

Thomas nodded, pensive. Virgil was staring into space as he scratched behind Chica’s ears. Probably reviewing the encounter in his head, Mark figured. 

“Still think it was a dumb idea to let him loose.”

“I was supposed to get here before he did,” Mark griped. “Usually at functions like this I can keep him corralled, to an extent. And he’s always been popular; it’s harder to keep an active hold on the popular ones.”

“What does that mean? Why would someone like him be popular?”

“Oh,” Thomas interjected. “You mean because he was originally a fan concept? I did hear about that.” 

“Yeah,” confirmed Mark. “Now that he has an established canon, he’s a bit more limited in what he can do, but he also has more power to do it, if that makes sense.” Mark looked back to Virgil, for some reason feeling that the Side especially was owed an explanation. “You’ve probably figured out by now, but he operates on a different level of ‘fiction versus reality’ than you do.”

The Side nodded. “We both figured it out. That’s actually when he got really eager.” He seemed to cringe, his eyes darting between Mark and his own creator. “That’s not gonna cause problems, is it? Thomas, I told him how we work, how this-“ he gestured between the two of them, “-works. He wanted to know how much influence I had over you.”

“A fair bit, considering you exist in this capacity,” Thomas remarked, pointing to all of Virgil. 

“No, he made it sound like-like hypnosis or possession or something.”

“Like you’re compelling him?” Mark hazarded.

“Like I’m forcing him,” Virgil insisted, frustration clear in his voice. He was curled almost entirely around Chica. 

“Well it’s not like you guys haven't done things like that before.”

Virgil’s head whipped around so quickly Mark could feel the whiplash in his own neck. “What?”

“Well you have,” Thomas repeated, seeming unbothered by the admission. “Remember the phone call? When we were in Patton’s room?” 

Virgil scowled. “I guess,” he said in a small voice. 

“Hey, I’m not upset about it,” Thomas assured. “You were right, it was going to be a disaster. But I didn't exactly hang up of my own volition. Even if it was me doing the physical hanging-up.” 

“Yeah. I didn't think you were gonna throw it, though. That was all you.”

“We can argue about that later. Honestly, it sounds like Darkiplier had a point. You guys do have a measure of control that it sounds like the Egos don’t.”

“But he wants in on it, that’s the problem.” Virgil turned, and Mark was taken aback by the nervousness in his eyes. “Isn’t it?”

Still no “read more” because it’s messing with the data values or something. Sorry for such a long post on your dash. 

I actually had no idea where I wanted this chapter’s discussion to go so I kinda let it do its own thing. I hope it's easy to follow. And it’s still not done. Can you believe this was originally going to be a oneshot?

That pun was, believe it or not, entirely unintentional, but I had to keep it in once I made it. 

Tag list: @lara-crofters; @energyember

[certifiedceraunophile]

On that note everyone go shower some love on this MIRACLE WONDER this writer has produced,

THE WOLF SERIES

with blood sweat and tears, I once saw a post by another writer informing that your fic (a two-part multichap series)  literally has more words than the first 2 or 3 books in the Harry Potter franchise put together.

I mean do y’all understand how much this writer has literally just PRODUCED, the dedication and passion it takes to do it FOR FREE  for the characters THAT AREN’T EVEN THEIRS TO OWN LEGALLY, 

The level of LOVE and CONNECTION you have to feel for a character to do that, this is one vibrant soul to be able to have so much devotion to one single fictional person.

AND IT’S NOT LIKE THIS IS a slap-dash 500K WORD VOMIT.

GOD NO.

THIS HERE IS QUALITY FUCKING CONTENT.

CONTENT BETTER THAN CANON, 

CONTENT THAT IN THE HEARTS OF HUNDREDS LIKE ME, IS CANON

BETTER THAN ANYTHING JP HAS PUT OUT IN BOTH the TO and TVD universe. 

CONTENT THAT HAS MADE ME, A COLD-HEARTED INDIFFERENT mean lil BITCH cry and snivel like a 5 yr old bunny,

CONTENT THAT HAS MADE ME FEEL SO WARM AND HAPPY and just FULL on my worst days.

CONTENT THAT HAD ME PULLING FOUR CONSECUTIVE DAYS OF ALL-NIGHTERS TO JUST BLOODY FINISH THE STORY CUZ I COULDN’T PUT IT DOWN EVEN IF I WANTED TO.

AND HERE’S SOMETHING ELSE YOU SHOULD KNOW DEAR WRITER,

WOLF 2 Literally came out when my entire freaking family was tested as COVID +ve, (we’re all fit and fine and fantastic now) 

BUT My mother’s diagnose at the time was well, acting up, to put it in the most ambiguous of terms, and I remember crying myself to dangerous levels of dehydration and just feeling like SHIT the first time I got the news in the hospital, and the worst part was that I was in the ICU too (since I was also tested covid+ve ), just on the other fucking side of the hospital, away from my family, and my then suffering mom. 

I couldn’t bloody stop crying, and was just so scared and alone, the nurses appointed for my care were worried, that I’d cry myself faint, YES they were worried I’d literally pass out from crying, and they were using all methods of distraction and diversion to just STOP me from behaving like the literal BLACK-HOLE OF HOPELESS GLOOM,

one such nurse finally decided, fuck protocol we’re bringing in her phone and giving it to her, the phone can be completely sanitised and disinfected before and after it gets to her, and so there, she can text friends or family, or whatever and keep herself distracted, 

I swear I’ve never been more thankful in my entire existence, for someone breaking medical protocol in places regarding my actual life.

I tried calling my extended family living out of state or texting friends, but hell as soon as the ringtone picked or if I saw them texting back I shut it off, I couldn’t bloody deal with it. I couldn’t see or hear my phone straight through all the snot and tears on my face, so like just imagine, a BIG FCKING MESS just sitting there,

AND then I decide to aimlessly scroll through Tumblr, (an app I hadn’t touched in months)

 and damnit out of NOWHERE

 this humongous aesthetic collage just pops up as I refresh the page  and below it reads,

WOLF II by Yokan

I admit, I didn’t bloody pounce on it or anything, hell I scrolled past it just as indifferently as any other post, still sniffing every two seconds and just wanting to be swallowed up.

But I knew in the back of my mind I’ll revisit the post later and I did.

It was around 3:00 am, dead in the night, when I got so restless, I threw off my covers, sat up and just listened, the only thing keeping me company was the incessant beeping of all the monitors of the 8 or so patients sharing the ICU ward with me. literally nothing else, even the nurses constant chatter ceased, and the next thing I know, my hand of it’s own accord grabs my phone opens ao3 and dives headfirst into Wolf 2, 

I didn’t even notice I had read through 3 chapters in one hour until one very, very annoyed and extremely worried nurse walked into my cubicle to check on me only to find me curled up on my side, my phone inches from my eyes and a tiny smile on my face,

I mean I swear the nurse did everything short of pumping her fists in the air and yelling “YESS! FINALLY THE BITCH STOPS LEAKING LIKE FAULTY fcking PLUMBING”

but she was not having any of my ‘imma pull an all-nighter in an ICU to read QUALITY LITERATURE’ stunt, and shoved my head into the pillow and said ‘I’ll hold it there till you drift sweetie, don’t even try me.”

 well not literally but you get the point.

But here’s the thing, My Mom is having insidiously low levels of oxygen in her blood, my 11 and 14 yr old brothers are in another part of the hospital, probably playing fortnite with the male nurses, and my dad who has chronic hypertension and blood sugar (afflictions that do not fcking help covid recovery whatsoever)  was bed-ridden unconscious in the fourth corner. 

And here I am going to sleep with a smile etched on my face, expectant and excited to wake up the next day and continue reading.

I mean I wanted to pass out with the help of sleeping pills not an hour ago and maybe not wake up for a good week and a half, and now here I am actually looking forward to the next day. 

DO YOU FCKING UNDERSTAND HOW IMPACTFUL YOU’RE WRITING IS??  

I mean after that, I didnt put my phone down, unless i was connected with my family through the intercom, or when my meals were being delivered.

I read through the entire first half you posted in the 8 days I was quarantined in the hospital.

I laughed, I CRIED, I think I kinda YELLED OUT IN SHEER FRUSTRATION in the middle of the night when any particularly angsty part, especially CAROLIJAH part came on, I mean I was so lost in this universe you’ve created, you’ve authored. And  I felt a myriad of emotions that were so strong it couldn’t be swallowed up by my own blackhole state of mind.

AND NONE OF THESE EMOTIONS HAD ANYTHING TO DO WITH My diagnosis, The hundred different blood tests I had taken and their results,  my mom’s stubbornly un-improving state. or any of the other thing on my endless list of ‘the sky above thee shall crash down upon thy skull’ things happening around me.

The FIC did not make the helplessness i felt disappear, It didn’t, that only disappeared after my family left the hospital fully recovered and perfectly fine.

 But did it fight tooth and nail to nullify any and all depressive thoughts I was feeling by shifting my focus, ABSOLUTELY. was it so powerfully eclipsing that I could afford to drift silently into my safe haven away from all the NOISE. GOD YES.

MY BRAIN AFTER A FEW DAYS POST RECOVERY HAD THE AUDACITY TO SUGGEST FEELING GUILTY ABOUT ENJOYING YOUR WORK SO THOROUGHLY DURING SUCH A HARD TIME.

and my heart was having none of it, it yelled back

“FUCK you, FUCK YOU BACK TO THE DERANGED RECESSES OF CONSCIOUS SELF-FLAGELLATION YOU CAME FROM, BECAUSE It’s the tiny seemingly insignificant, usually sidelined things in life that bring you the most happiness, and you shouldn’t bloody feel SORRY for that.”

“IF all it takes is A CANON FIX-IT klaro-baby-trope fanfic of a show that ended years ago with half the characters you love dead, to alleviate this all- consuming hopelessness you feel, it DOES NOT mean you’re shallow, it just shows how DEEP you’ve delved into this one singular character and brought her to life in your mind that she’s your personal mentor, flawleslly flawed gold standard and friend that you CANNOT possibly think to part with. And if you found an author who translates this fairy god mother of yours in the most intricately beautiful FAULTLESS way, onto paper, you shouldnt fcking feel sorry.”

and NO, I don’t feel sorry for enjoying your work and falling in love with it, over and over and over again, because it was so bloody worth it, and it literally PULLED me through such an uprooting period of my life, I mean there was so much fear and worry in my heart but for the few brief hours I read your work, YOU were so commanding of my attention, my heart and my mind, that i could escape into this Haven. Drift away from the worries and just revel in the Gloriousness that is KLAROLINE.

SO YEAH.

PHEW THAT WAS A RANT AND A HALF.

BUT YOU NEEDED TO KNOW THAT, I WAS SCEPTICAL ABOUT SHARING SOMETHING SO PRIVATE, BUT YOU DESERVE TO KNOW JUST HOW TOUCHING YOUR WORK IS, AND JUST NEVER FCKING EVER STOP WRITING. IT DOESNT HAVE TO BE KLAROLINE OR EVEN FANFICTION, JUST DONT STOP WRITING, BECAUSE YOU’LL BE RIDDING A LOT OF PEOPLE OFF THEIR SAFE PLACE. and that’s just rude.

I dont think there’s any smooth way to end this rant so I’ll just leave it here.

ALL THE LOVE AND PEACE IN THE WORLD TO YOU

XOXOX

-A reader you helped escape.

Here’s the thing, folks. 

Private messages are amazing. I really love it when people decide to come over for a random chat, or to tell me they’ve enjoyed reading something I wrote. Honestly, I’m sure you’ve heard this from a million people before, but it’s all so very true: it’s THE BEST THING to know there’s people out there appreciating something you’ve done. I know fanfiction, like fanart, and fan edits, and any other kind of awesome content people produce as a form of tribute to something they like, is free, but it actually costs something to the people producing it, even if it’s just time. It’s made for fun, but it’s BRILLIANT when you come and tell me you have liked my fanfiction, or that you’re eager for an update, or that you like my writing so much you’d like to see me write something else. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE IT and appreciate it and it makes me SO, SO, SO happy. Please, don’t stop doing that, ever!

But the best way to really support content producers is to help the content reach more people, and the way to do that is to either reblog a post here on tumblr, or leave a comment on FF.net or AO3, or kudos, or something that will help the story/whatever be seen by others. I know I’m writing this exclusively from a fanfiction perspective because it’s what I do, but I’m sure it’s true for all sorts of content.

When someone is looking for something new to read, they tend to navigate to the stories with the most number of kudos, or favs, or reviews. Sometimes people read the reviews before they start the story. I’m guilty of that. When I first joined fandom, a billion years too late, I went straight for the most famous stories and authors. When you know a lot of people have enjoyed something, chances of you enjoying it as well are greater. So some people only ever go to writers they already know, or stories they’ve already started, or stories that are being validated by lots of reblogs from people they know, or getting recced by people they know and trust. Which is why it’s so important to help content creators that you like reach new people by showing your friends and followers and general corner of the fandom that you like what they do.

I’m new here, I have very few followers and I’m not at all among the most popular people on AO3 or FF.net, though I might be among the most active at the moment. But sometimes my stuff gets so, so few hits I start to wonder if it’s even worth to continue writing stuff. And you might say ‘Hey, GalvanizedFriend, don’t judge us for no reblogging your stuff. It’s my blog, I’ll post what I want, I’ll rec who I want, people just don’t like your stuff that much, suck it up’. And it’s all very true and fair enough. I just have to deal with it and either keep going anyway, or grab my things and leave. My prerogative, no one’s fault. 

But on the off chance that what I’m saying actually makes sense - or that I might end up helping other people, because this isn’t just about me, it’s about EVERYONE - please consider reblogging more posts, reccing more stuff, and leaving reviews on the actual stories, because that will encourage more people to give it a chance. It’s really, really helpful and it makes people feel more excited about doing new stuff and continuing to contribute to keep the fandom alive (which I guess it’s important in my particular case ‘cause the shows are done and dusted and literally characters are dead, lol). 

This wasn’t a rant, it was just a friendly reminder and also an opinion. If you don’t care, then by all means. Just ignore it and move on. Thanks for reading.

[onyxiana-is-obsessed]

Happy Birthday, Sho | Shouto Todoroki x Reader

AN: Ok, I posted this on his birthday but on my Wattpad instead, so I’m technically not late! Length: 1.9k words Pronouns used: She/her

Tags: @beththedemonhunter​ @sweetlikepeppermints​ @pandoraandink​

Summary: It’s Todoroki’s birthday and you are determined to give him a gift and confess, but how can you? You barely talk to him. You can still give him a gift though.

Full Name: (y/f/n) Quirk: (y/q) Age: 15

(f/n) entered the common room, where most of class 1-A was gathered. She shuffled closer to them, making them look up at her in horror.

"Oh! Damn it (l/n), we thought you were Todoroki." Mina whined, making the girl shrug.

"What's going on?" She asked, walking towards the huddle and sitting down on the floor next to Tokoyami and Kaminari.

"It's Todoroki's birthday, and we're just thinking about what to get him!" Midoriya commented making the girl smile and nod.

"Oh, I didn't know. What do you have in mind so far?" Ok, that was a lie. Of course, (f/n) knew when his birthday was, she was practically in love with him. She couldn't let anyone else know though, so she kept it to herself. No one, not even her best friend, (class 1-a girl that's your bff), knew. On top of that, (f/n) always tried to keep her distance from Todoroki, so no one would find out.

So far, it was working perfectly. No one suspected a thing. But that was another problem, there was no way Todoroki liked her back. The two kept their relationship strictly formal. Meaning, they didn't hang out, they barely talked outside of school, and if they did, it was always related to school or training. That didn't stop (f/n)'s heart from soaring every time the two talked.

Now, (f/n) already had a present prepared for Todoroki. She found it about two weeks ago and kept it well hidden in her room. The only problem was, now was the day to give it to him. She wondered whether she should leave it outside of his dorm or give it to him in person. Maybe lie and say someone wanted to give it to him and then hand it to him? She would become so nervous just thinking about it.

"What do you plan on getting him, (l/n)?" Hagakure asked, making everyone look at the (h/c) haired girl.

"Oh, I'm not sure. I didn't even know it was his birthday today." (f/n) answered sheepishly. She was a good liar, thank goodness for that. Sure, quite a few girls would agree and say Todoroki was quite attractive and he was strong, also the son of the number 1 hero! But that's why (f/n) kept her distance. He was... too good for her. His father was a hero, he was destined to be a hero, he was rich, attractive, powerful... he was miles out of her league. Yet here she was, crushing on him.

"Maybe we should all go to the mall to look for something!"

"You guys can go, I already have something." Momo smiled, with a couple agreeing with her.

"Should we throw a party?" Kaminari asked.

"Oh! That's a great idea, dude!" Kirishima answered.

"W-wait! Does he even like parties?" Midoriya asked, raising his hands to calm down the group that was starting to get excited. "He seems pretty reserved, so a party wouldn't be the best idea."

"Why don't we just get him a cake? No need for a big celebration but still a celebration!" Uraraka smiled. That was the idea. Everyone had a job to do, minus a few students who didn't want to. Uraraka and Midoriya were getting the cake, Mineta, Kaminari, and Sero were getting snacks, Hagakure, Jiro, Momo, and Mina were going to set up decorations, and everyone else was free to go buy their presents if they already didn't have one.

With the exception of Aoyama and Kirishima, who were tasked with taking Todoroki for a "walk", keeping him distracted for the day at least.

(f/n) smiled a little as she watched her friends plan. It would still end up turning into a big celebration, but... maybe he'll like it.

~**~

(f/n) pretended to go to the mall so she could find the gift she already purchased. This just let her walk around the mall until she could come to a decision about how she was going to give Todoroki her gift. Since she was too shy, she decided to leave it at his door. During the little party, she could slip away, find her gift, and place it at his door. No need to leave her name on it or anything.

During her little walk, she'd gotten a text from Midoriya telling her everything was ready and that since she was still out, to go get Todoroki. She was told to meet up with Aoyama and Kirishima at the park, which was nearby.

Once she did, the four walked around for a few minutes, before (f/n) suggested they go back to the dorms to get something to eat. A rather weak excuse, but it worked nonetheless.

The group walked into the common room, making Todoroki freeze as he saw everyone standing there. The room was lined with streamers, there was a banner in the back, balloons, and whatnot.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TODOROKI!" They exclaimed. His shock slowly melted into a small smile.

"Y-you all remembered?"

"Of course! Come! Look at your cake!" Mina cheered, making the others nod with excitement. He slowly approached, with Kirishima, Aoyama, and (f/n) following.

"Thank you, everyone. This... is wonderful."

Thus, began the "small" celebration. Todoroki's gifts were piled up on the table, he had the choice of opening them in his dorm or right there. He chose to open them all in his dorm, which is where (f/n) was volunteered to help carry all of this presents back with him. She nodded, trying to hide her panic. Her gift... was just sitting at his door. HE'D SEE IT WITH HER!

She had to physically tell herself to calm down. When they'd go up there, she'd just pretend like it wasn't hers.

The party was actually fun. The class watched a few movies, they had a little dance party, they even played some board games, and everyone enjoyed the cake and snacks. This was the only time (f/n) and Todoroki got to talk to each other, without school being the topic.

"How are you liking your party, birthday boy?" (f/n) asked, approaching the male.

"It's fun. I'm having a lot of fun. Thank you, all of you." (f/n) shrugged and responded with a smile.

"Eh, it was mostly their idea. I think they did a great job." She was a mystery to Todoroki. He knew there was more to this girl than her kind and nonchalant attitude. (f/n) was the one person, he just couldn't figure out.

The thing was, Todoroki liked her. Of course, at first, it was mostly because of her looks. It didn't go much further than that, because he never got the chance to get to know the girl. She would usually keep her private things... well private, and only talking about school with him. He noted, every single conversation of theirs was always related to school or training. At first, he thought it was just a silly little crush, but he was wrong. Dead wrong.

Sure, their conversations weren't deep, not in the slightest, but he liked this surface attitude he saw. (F/n) was a nice girl, always willing to talk with someone, a good shoulder to lean on, and a very talented hero-in-training.

Todoroki knew some of (f/n)'s favorites from the time they spent in class and then in their dorm life. For example, her favorite color was (f/c), her favorite movie was (f/m), her favorite song (or at least one she really liked because she would always sing it) was (f/s), but that was it.

That didn't stop his heart from still wanting her.

So this was the perfect chance, they were partially alone, they were talking about something other than school, and well...

He blew it.

Not in the sense where he offended her, he just couldn't do it. Sure, Todoroki liked her (yeah, it's more than like but whatever), but with the way she acted towards him, that didn't mean she liked him. (f/n) kept her distance for a reason, so there was no way he was just going to come onto her, when she was clearly not interested.

~**~

The party was over, everyone had a great time and they were cleaning up. Although they wanted to leave it for the next day, they knew Aizawa would have their heads. Once cleaned up, both Todoroki and (f/n) were given a basket, where the two collected his gifts and carried it to his dorm.

"You know, they said they didn't want a big celebration," (f/n) giggled, recalling Uraraka's words. "Seems like they changed their minds."

"I loved it, it was probably the best birthday, no doubt," Todoroki responded as they approached his door. Here it was, (f/n) needed to pretend! "What's that?"

"Oh, it looks like someone left you a present here." (f/n) picked it up and placed it in her basket. "Maybe they were too shy, in case you chose to open it downstairs?"

"Maybe." Todoroki opened his door and both of them walked in. (f/n) placed her basket down and looked at Todoroki.

"Good night. I'm glad you enjoyed the party." He nodded with a smile.

"Thank you, again." With that, (f/n) left, frowning at herself for being so weak and not telling him the truth.

~**~

Todoroki slowly went through the gifts, loving every single one. Even Bakugou got him one, which was beyond surprising. His hand finally reached for the last one, the one that sat on his door.

His hand gently slid over the (small/average/large) box, his fingers tangling themselves with the pretty (f/c) bow. What could it be?

He slowly unwrapped it, a smile gracing his features when he saw what it was. It was (insert a present you got for him). Along with it, was a note. He picked it up, his eyes reading each and every single word.

It was a love letter, it was a confession!

And he knew exactly who it was. He recognized that handwriting anywhere. It was the way some of her letters curled, the way they connected, they were special. (f/n)... she was in love with him?

Todoroki stood up, dashing out of his room and sprinting to (f/n)'s dorm. She felt the same way... she felt the same way for him.

Damn! She was good at hiding it, because even someone like him couldn't tell. He was pretty observant and he still couldn't tell she liked him.

He finally reached her dorm, taking a moment to catch his breath before he knocked on the door. He heard some shuffling before the door opened to reveal the beautiful girl.

"Hey, Tod-" Before she could finish, he'd leaned in and captured her lips with his own. Only then did panic set in, what if... what if he got the note wrong?! What if it was someone else and he'd just kissed someone WITHOUT PERMISSION?! Todoroki felt (f/n) tense, sending his anxiety flying through the roof. Which was then followed by his heart when she melted against him, returning the kiss.

The two pulled apart, cheeks red, and partially out of breath. Their gazes met and they smiled at each other.

"Thank you, for the best birthday gift, (f/n)."

"Happy birthday, Shoto."

[lolbtsaus]

(1/14) another long one but I quite like this one, not sure how you feel about it tho! hacker and thief au with jimin. BTS is a crew of thieves who steal anything and everything for anyone who had the funds to hire them. They live a lavish life from the riches they earn off their crimes, indulging in partying, exotic cars and of course Gucci for th. you on the other hand, is a legend within the cyber world as one of the top black hat hackers who also works for hire. So when a kingpin of a

(2/14) syndicate hires both you and BTS for a joint operation, you meet jm for the first time through the cctv footage displayed on your desktop. Meeting at some secretive warehouse, BTS was expecting to be introduced to their employer and co-worker for this assignment, but was however met with a stack of files in an empty room and a huge computer screen. With the use of voice distortion, you briefed the crew on their hit job and monitored from your screen. But what had caught your eye was this    

(3/14) striking young man with silver hair that did not say a single word throughout the whole duration but just continuously and knowingly stared into the cctv camera as if he knew there was someone on the other side watching. tbh it kind of made you uncomfortable but you gotta admit he was cute, I mean it’s not often that you get an assignment with 7 really hot guys. Anyhow, on the day of the mission, you supervise from your den, hacking into security systems and monitoring the surroundings                  

(4/14) while BTS begin to infiltrate and steal the subject. Occasionally you’ll inform them of a bogey through their earpieces and quite often you’ll hear dad jokes (courteously of jin) and video game commentary (who else but jk) from the boys as they move through the building. Tbh they’re quite entertaining and you can’t help but smile a little, by far the best co-workers you’ve had. The boys have retrieved the subject and have all returned to the haven of their cars, except jm & th. th      

(5/14) goes out of sight on your screen and he doesn’t respond to your calling. Your desperately trying to find out whats happened to th and the boys have gone dead silent and nothing can be heard except the sound of your fingers rapidly hitting keys. That is until you hear this grunting from jm’s piece followed by not so pleasant sounds of possibly fractured bones and groaning from a foreign person. and not soon after that, you catch vision of a bloody nosed th and a disgruntled jm dashing out              

(6/14) of the building before joining the boys in their cars and zooming away. You must say, jm took you by surprise, you did not expect that little lump of fluff to have that much spunk, because I mean, last time you peeked *hacked* into their lounge at the top floor of some luxury hotel, you found the mochi curled up in a ball on the sofa playing with jk’s hair as he and th played video games. Basically ya’ll did such a good job that the kingpin decided to get you guys together again for a             

(7/14)another mission, obviously with higher commission because dollar dollar bruh! anyhow, many missions later (commissioned or independant), BTS obviously become curious about your identity and you’ve accumulated enough funds that you have excess for a new apartment. and coincidentally (what a lie), you move into the building adjacent to theirs, where your balcony has a direct view of jm’s balcony. and of course, jm’s caught sight of you a few times sipping on some tea and browsing on a laptop             

(8/14) on a late afternoon and tbh he’s been secretly enjoying the view for a while now. Okay so you guys happen to get another assignment and from the beginning you were a bit angsty for this one because there were just so many inconsistent factors, but you guys decide to go ahead with the plan anyways. So all is going okay until, you hear shots. 3 rounds fired total and your body freezes. The image of jm taking a bullet to the shoulder is fixated on your screen and you’re at a loss for words.             

(9/14) when jm is hoisted out of the building by nj and jin with the rest of the crew scrambling to cover their asses, youre dead silent and focused on solely your job of navigating them to a hospital. At the sound of tyres squealing to a stop, doors slamming close and the gps locator indicating that they’ve arrived at the nearby hospital, you reach out to switch off your entire system. Only after a few days do you find the courage to dial the digits of jm’s cell. A croaky voice picks up and you             

(10/14) freeze for a second. only after the second hello? do you muster up the courage to reply to him and ask in a soft voice how he’s holding up. and tbh he’s shocked, because 1. some random stranger is calling him and knows he’s been shot which probably means they know his identity, 2. this stranger has a really nice voice and 3. - wait hang on, he knows this tone of speech, hang on could this possibly be….? jm’s just like, omg i finally figured out who mastermind behind our missions and oml             

(11/14) it’s a girl, a girl with a really soothing voice and this boy is a bit in love. and jm unconsciously finds himself dialling or texting this number every once in a while when he just needs someone to speak to or after a mission where he’ll brag about his skills like hey did you see the way i shimmied past that laser in the hallway of the museum? and ur just like yeah jm, i saw because i was the one that was monitoring you and making sure your ass doesn’t trigger the alarm. BTS kind of             

(12/14)catch on that their jm is acting a bit strange, often hiding in his room to make phone calls or smiling at his phone. That and the fact that at every assignment briefing, jm seems to be very comfortable with the mysterious hacker. Only one day does jm blurt out your name and everyone is like eh?! and jms just like dude just drop the voice distorter already your voice is beautiful without that stupid thing. and BTS is like EHHH?! and jm is like oh crap that wasn’t meant to come out whoops.

(13/14) but you end up getting rid of the voice distorter and crew is just like holy crap its a girl, and regretting all the stupid shit they’ve said on their missions that you must’ve heard (but we all know yg was secretly regretting that one time he stopped to pet that puppy on the street, completely cooing over it forgetting that he had his ear piece on and that you were sitting on your balcony watching his every move taping the whole thing for future black mail uses). anyhow, one day, you’re                    

(14/14) sitting on your balcony sipping on some tea when you get a text from jm. a lil smile appears on your face and you continue to exchange. But little did you know that jm, who coincidentally happened to be looking out his balcony window, noticed that every time he sent a text to you, the girl in sitting across from him picks up her phone. highly suspicious, he dials and only when you pick up, he opens the door and steps out to his balcony and you guys lock eyes. (I cant write fluff 😅) -🥀     

oh my g o d I love this so much I want all of it rn plz and thnx 

[swanisms]

when you last left me my blood was in a jar | (1/1)

and you kept it on your mantlepiece

She must be doing something wrong that her son thinks the best way to go about proving his fairytale identity is to steal a sword. She must be doing something wrong to indulge this.

Given everything that Storybrooke and this storybook has thrown her way, it must be wrong that Killian being Captain Hook isn’t the worst option.

notes: love it when i’m just scrolling my dash, minding my own business, and a silly prompt shows up and my brain fires in the completely wrong direction where “MY KID SHOPLIFTED FROM YOUR STORE AND I MARCHED HER BACK HERE TO APOLOGIZE TO YOU AU” becomes nearly 6k of a s1 cursed hook au. anyways, glad that i apparently still know how to put words on a page in something resembling a story, hope you enjoy!

also on ao3

“Did you really think I wouldn’t notice the sword?”

“It’s not a sword,” Henry grumbles. There’s no masking the disappointment of a ten year old child, and Henry’s mastered the pout. Emma’s not falling for it today. There’s letting him join her for a cup of hot cocoa at the diner when he’s already late for getting...to Regina. But letting him pocket a -

“What is it then?” Emma asks.

Henry simply says, “A replica of Excalibur.”

“The Knights of the Round Table that hard up for money? Franchising a magic sword?”

Henry shakes his head, in that way he does where he sees her sarcasm as something to power through rather than acknowledge. He’s remarkably good at that, too, because when he replies, “No. Emma, you were supposed to read the book,” she actually feels guilty.

“Yeah...yeah, I did. Refresh me though?”

Henry sees her for a liar, liar pants on fire, but he’s mature enough not to say it and Emma’s immature enough to near smile when she looks up at the telephone wire above them.

“You know Arthur pulled the sword from the stone, right?” Emma nods. She saw the movie. “Everyone knows that...but after he pulled out Excalibur, he realized that he couldn’t use it.” He hushes her next question with a look, so Emma decides to simply listen. “It wasn’t that it was too heavy or that he was a bad swordsman. It just didn’t work for him. Sure, it made everyone believe that Camelot would finally become great again, but it wasn’t magic. It didn’t feel like anything but a normal sword in his hands. He know for certain that this sword had superpowers, and he couldn’t understand why it felt so powerless. He was obsessed with trying to find a way to unlock its power. So, he barely paid attention to being a king and ruling a kingdom, and Guinevere...she was lonely.”

Emma bites at her lip. Infidelity isn’t exactly PG, and she wonders what else she didn’t read in this book. What else her kid is way too knowledgeable of. It isn’t like she wants to be the one to talk to him about the birds and the bees – in all likelihood, that will never be an option and she doesn’t even know if she wants it to be one, not really sure of anything anymore. Still, she doesn’t think its best that he learn about sex through a book of fairytales. If Harlequin writers can’t get it right when erotica is their freaking job, she shudders at how this book might tell it.

Henry elbows her, and once he has her attention, he continues, “And Lancelot, he loved his friends. Arthur was his best friend, and Guinevere was his favourite person in the entire world. He wanted to help them, and when Guinevere used this magic gauntlet to find Arthur’s heart’s desire, she and Lancelot set out to find it and bring it back to him.”

“Oh.”

She really wasn’t expecting that, but fairytales, right. Lonely people trying to reconnect with their significant others rather than find someone else is the dream.

“They thought it’d be fast, but the journey took them across the whole of Camelot. They spent weeks travelling from town to town. They got to know all these people. They saw the way they lived. Some people struggled and others did pretty well, and they were like ‘When we get home, we’re totally going to do all these things to make it better.’ It took them forever really, and suddenly it was Guinevere’s birthday. Arthur promised her that when he became king, the whole of Camelot would be covered in Middlemist flowers to celebrate it. When she didn’t see any, she told Lancelot it was a silly promise that children make, but he said, that it doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be kept, and he took her through the woods until they came upon a field full of them. It was beautiful, and that’s when Guinevere realized why Excalibur wasn’t working for Arthur. Excalibur couldn’t make Camelot a true kingdom. It isn’t a magic sword that just fixes everything. It’s magical because it’s a promise to work together to make things better. Arthur didn’t keep that promise because he was too obsessed with finding its magic.”

Quickly, Henry added, “And of course she and Lancelot kissed, but they said that was it, and both went home to Arthur to tell him this. About Excalibur, not the kiss.”

Emma finally interjects, amused by Henry’s obvious discomfort, “I take it that didn’t work.”

“No, Arthur was so angry that they just left, and he wouldn’t listen to them. He didn’t believe that they’d done this for him. He just thought that they were trying to undermine him. He yelled at Lancelot for being in love with Guinevere and he tried to kill his best friend! And he tried to control Guinevere with magic! He was so crazy. They stopped him, but when everyone found out, they were heartbroken. They thought that Merlin was a liar and that Camelot would always be terrible, but with Lancelot’s help, Guinevere gathered them and told them what she’d learned about Excalibur. She lifted the sword to try and make them see and when she did, its shape changed and it became this sword that she could actually use without breaking her arm. She unlocked its magic, and she saved Camelot.”

Emma nods, “So Guinevere’s the one true king? But then shouldn’t she have been the one supposed to pull the sword from the stone?”

“No!” Henry denies vehemently - Don’t you get it? - Emma very much doesn’t so she lets him explain, “Merlin said Arthur would pull the sword from the stone and become king, but he never said he would stay king. He never said that he’d be a good king.”

Emma gets it now, and she says so.

“Arthur sucks.”

“He’s the worst,” Henry agrees.

“Worse than the Evil Queen?” Emma asks - and not because there’s that petty part of her that wants to hear Henry disparage Regina, but because there’s that big part of her that, despite everything she’s seen,  wants to believe that Regina isn’t this person and that she didn’t consign her son to this. She wants to believe that Regina was better before, she can be better, and Emma was right to send him away to have a family she could never give him.

She never wanted him to be as broken as her.

Henry frowns deeply, looking down at the replica sword.

“No.”

Her heart breaks, but that’s normal. Disney got it wrong, leaving Arthur and marrying Lancelot was the best decision Guinevere ever made, Excalibur looks like a needle, and with every story he reads from that book, all Henry does is prove that fairytales are bullshit. Here he is, trying to convince her that all these stories are true, but who wants to believe that these characters lives are just as awful as theirs? That their happy endings could be taken away just like that; one moment you’re dreaming of that happily ever after with your one true love and the next -

You’re letting your son go because that kind of love was never meant for you to have.

Henry prods Emma out of her thoughts, elbowing her as he says, “So, I have to give it back?”

And he drives her into other thoughts that are just as comforting. She looks down at him and his barely hidden smile. No thief should ever look so happy about having to return to the scene of the crime. Emma doesn’t want her suspicions confirmed, but she has no choice.

“Give it back to who exactly?”

Emma doesn’t need to be good at seeing through people to see that Henry was looking forward to this reveal.

“Captain Hook.”

Emma groans, and snatching the weapon out of Henry’s hand - truly, the little backstabber dragging her back to the man she’s made it explicitly clear that she’s only too happy to avoid. Forever. Like trapped in Neverland forever.

“Mr. Jones,” Emma emphasizes as Henry leads the way to his shop, “is not someone you should be stealing from.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to steal from anyone,” Henry points out.

Emma scrunches up in annoyance, and says firmly, “Some people are more forgiving. He doesn’t seem like the type.”

“He likes me,” Henry says, and sneakily, even though her kid is not sneaky, he adds, “He likes you.”

“He does not,” Emma says. “He likes messing with me.”

“I think he just wants to be your friend,” Henry says.

The innocence of youth, to not see the redness in her face as anything other than annoyance. Killian Jones does not want to be her friend. He wants the benefits of friendship. In both those terms. Getting in good with the Sheriff is only common sense with criminal elements, and getting in good with her? He’s made it quite clear that it would benefit the both of them.

She really would like to deny that last point, but it’s been a frustrating few months and running around from one insane predicament to the next does a lot, but not nearly enough.

And really, those little moments that she’s been trying to avoid do way too much. She casts her eyes to her son’s determined pace towards Killian’s shop, the little backstabber -

“Let’s just get his sword back to him.”

Henry turns back to her with a big grin.

“Sure!”

Killian’s shop comes up all too fast, and okay, maybe fast is a good thing. Fast means getting this over with. Still, she sighs watching Henry wrench open the door so hard that it makes the entrance bell chime loud enough that there’s no way Killian wouldn’t hear it.

Following Henry inside, she catches sight of Killian immediately as he steps out from a dark corner of the shop. His eyes find hers, and he lights up, no other way to put it - except maybe that he does that ‘I’m dark and dangerous and I really want to be your friend’ swagger towards her.

She’s glad Henry steps between them, if only because it steals his interested gaze, and Emma doesn’t have to pointedly stare at his neck to keep him from using her line of sight against her. Also because she doesn’t want to have to fight herself to stare at his neck when his collarbones are in view.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” he directs at Henry, but his eyes flicker up to Emma at the last bit.

Subtlety isn’t a skill of ten year old boys or thirty year old men. Who’d’ve thought?

“Henry decided to pull the sword from the stone,” she says, lifting the replica in sight. “We both decided that it was a good idea to put it back.”

Killian nods, kneeling to Henry’s height to say, “Swordsmanship is an art that one doesn’t just pick up in day. You don’t start with the blade. That, lad, is an excellent way to lose a hand.”

Emma closes her eyes, tilting her head to the sky in a silent plea to the ceiling to fall in. Not on any of them, but just enough that they can call Leroy in here to make sure that she won’t have to endure this longer than necessary.

“Is that how you lost yours?” Henry asks excitedly.

Killian grins. “You’re a clever lad.” He lifts his gaze to Emma as he says, “You truly take after your mother.”

Henry turns to look at her as well, grinning in that way that makes Emma believe, and says simply, surely, absolutely certainly, “I know.”

“But,” he adds, drawing out the word, “I have to go meet my -” He furrows his brow, scrunching his face in thought before finishing, “Other mom now.” He pouts guiltily. “I’m already in trouble. I shouldn’t be late.”

Running over to Emma, he briefly wraps her in a tight hug and says, “We’ll continue the operation tomorrow. You can tell me all about what you find.”

It takes Emma a beat, enough time for Henry to swing open the door and run out the shop, for her to realize what he’s referring to.

He wants her to prove that Killian is Captain Hook.

Oh boy, she’s going to have to disappoint. She turns to follow him out, but Killian calls out to her, “I believe you have something that belongs to me.”

He offers his hand and for a brief, insane moment, Emma thinks that he’s referring to her. She has all the words of protest at the tip of her tongue when he nods towards her hand and she realizes she’s still holding the sword.

“Right,” she says, hoping beyond hope that the quaver in her voice is all in her head and not being catalogued in his list of ‘Reactions Emma Swan Has Had to Me That Imply She Actually Does Like Me.’

Swiftly, she places the sword hilt-side up in his hand. Her fingers brush his palm for a fraction of a second, but she looks at him at that exact moment and doesn’t miss the quirk of a smile, the passing of heat in that light touch - the flare of heat in her belly, that traitor.

Ignoring her body being an asshole, she says, “Thanks for, you know,” She shrugs at his bewildered response, “Not pressing charges against my kid.”

“I know how corruption runs rampant in law enforcement. I doubt anything would come of it,” Killian teases.

It well and truly misses the mark. Having spent time working with both the NYPD and BPD, and her brief encounters with other police forces when she’s caught her jumpers across state lines, Emma knows how true that is.

Killian notices her stiffen; he doesn’t miss much. Emma hates it, especially when his expression softens, apologetic in his understanding of her.

“I would never do such a thing. I’m not a cruel man,” he says quietly.

Emma catches how it’s something like a lie, something like he doesn’t believe his own words even though he wants to.

She knows that feeling.

Thankfully, she doesn’t have to acknowledge it when he adds, “And I would never fault him for wanting to indulge in a little piracy.”

Emma shakes her head, a small disbelieving smile taking her lips at his smirk, and can’t resist replying, “It is thievery.”

“Pirates and thieves, one and the same.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but we are standing on land, and don’t hit me with any sea of molten lava deep beneath the surface. It’s thievery.”

“I’m not certain why you’re insisting on labelling your son a criminal,” Killian says with a too amused grin.

She steps towards him, and he turns, taking the sword towards the counter, so she follows him because a turned back does not mean he’s won this.

“You’re the one calling him a pirate,” Emma says.

Whispers “fuck,” because she’s whining. Jesus, she’s whining and she’s letting this get too far. Maybe he has won.

“Fuck.”

Sword placed on the counter, Killian turns to face her again and she rocks back on her heels unsteadily, followed him much closer than she meant to.

“Actually, he’s the one calling me one.”

Emma frowns, argument gone as she’s reminded of Henry’s intention in bringing her here: to discover the truth for herself. Killian’s truth.

She looks past him, gaze tracking over his shop - and that, it sticks, ill-fitting in her head. This shop doesn’t feel like his. The thought is stupid, really, but it feels like he’s tried to fit himself into the space of someone else. Someone that he doesn’t particularly like, given the state of the shop.

She noticed that first time she came here, demanding to know why he had Kathryn and David’s windmill in his shop, and he’d shrugged like it wasn’t anything important. He’d just picked it up. It was there, and then he let it go. Something so important was nothing more than a thing passing through his life when it had - when she’d had to swallow down the thought that it had ruined her friend’s life when David had only been a part of it for a minute, or Once Upon a Time, somewhere far removed from the reality that Mary Margaret had gotten herself infatuated with a married man. She’d fallen down a road that Emma knew all too well, and it was her fault. Because she’d convinced her to entertain Henry’s story, pressed to believe only for show and Mary Margaret believed.

“You are a pawnbroker. Other people’s things are kind of your inventory,” Emma says.

He shrugs.

“These aren’t my trophies.”

Whose are they?

Emma stills the question on her tongue, and steps away from him to get a good look of the shop. She follows this counter around to the next, and even though his steps don’t follow hers, she feels him right behind her - his gaze almost as heated as the thought of pressing her body to his. A thought she has had a lot. Is having right now, apparently, because he’s looking at her and eye-fucking is kind of a thing he’s good at.

But –

She forges past that to focus on the shelves of objects as ridiculously mundane as an old record player and a Walkman with a Spice Girls sticker on the front, and as strange as wands in protective glass cases, a pack of tarot cards ink in colours that don’t seem real, and a genie’s lamp pulled straight out of Aladdin.

Then there’s the hand in the jar.

‘What the fuck?’ isn’t her first thought because there’s a goddamn hand in the jar, but because it’s Killian’s. Why the ever-loving fuck that is her first thought she can’t even fathom a reason for, besides that she’s read too many pages in that storybook.

She stiffens at the press of his hand to her shoulder, as he steps up behind her, beside her, and finally turning slightly to have both her and the hand in his view.

With a lifeless smile, Killian says, “The previous owner had quite the sense of humor. He left that for me as a -” He pauses, stretching out his handless arm so that she gets it when he says, “Parting gift.”

She sighs. “More hand jokes? Really?”

He can’t help himself from self-deprecating, from pointing it out before anyone else does, of turning his loss into a threat to anyone trying to use it against him because he’ll use it first.

Killian smiles and shrugs, and this smile is the same as before. It doesn’t reach his eyes, but it sinks beneath his skin, where she can’t see – probably the same place she keeps hers, in the hollows of her heart.

She shouldn’t at all.

Maybe she really should.

Emma reaches for him. Her touch makes Killian pause, right before that moment where he curtains himself, and it’s with a clarity that she sees the haunting in his eyes, a darkness she really shouldn’t let herself touch, but she did, she is, and -

She swallows as he waits, frozen in that expression. Gods, she has no idea what he’s waiting for, like he’s been waiting forever. For her to pull away. For her to pull him with her.

“Light!” she blurts.

Killian’s expression shifts, and she shouldn’t sigh in relief for the bemused look, but it’s easier to handle than everything she just saw.

Searching for a way to not sound completely stupid, she says, “This place could really do with some more light if you want to attract any customers.”

She nods, satisfied as much as she can be. She is right. This place is way too dark. It feels a bit like a lair. Or a prison. Both, maybe.

His eyebrow lifts, his face deepening its confusion, and she sighs because this is something he doesn’t get. He understands enough to catch her at her weakest –

“You don’t want to abandon him the way you were abandoned.” Meeting the steel in her gaze with one of his own. “So, don’t.” –

He knows how to throw her back on her feet.

Killian understands enough to have her running. She really has been avoiding him since them, and doing a spectacular job of it, too, but now she’s stepping into him, close enough that he’s pressed against her as she looks for something to prove her point because this idiot can understand too many things but not how to light a shop, apparently.

She finds it. A fake flower that looks real, and not like something preserved to fit into a portrait to hang on a wall. It looks like it’s just been picked. Beautiful white petals curling towards its bright green stem.

Flowers are pretty, but beyond that, they’re just flowers. It’s not something she gets hyped for, but there’s a rush in her voice that can’t be explained by anything she’s felt before as she says, finger pointing at it through the glass, “That would totally sell.”

He settles in behind her, looking over her shoulder at the flower beneath her finger. Her breaths go unsteady as he murmurs, breath warm and making her shiver, “Are you looking to buy?”

She shakes her head swiftly, pushing out of their embrace.

Somehow it doesn’t feel like that motion has broken them apart at all.

“No. I’m not.”

Emma turns to face him, about to repeat herself when he offers a smile that’s been nothing like the others he’s given her today. No pure flirtation, no teasing or amusement, no masking, just a smile of genuine happiness.

Genuinely happy.

“Then it shall be a gift.”

She lifts her hands, self-defense second nature, and she hates that she has to defend herself against bringing out a smile - because smiles like that can only lead to trouble. The fluttering in her stomach has nothing to do with frustration, and she hates that she can even acknowledge that.

“No, nope,” she says.

“For the business advice,” he offers, his smile a little more recognizable, but no less difficult to handle. Killian understands her (and not normal business practices, of course, makes sense.) She won’t take anything that first smile offers, but this she can take.

Logical, really.

But not really at all because an installation of lights isn’t exactly a stroke of genius, and it’s not like he’s cared to do this before and there’s no particular reason why he should care now.

(No reason she should be the one to make him care.)

Killian moves behind the counter, pulls out a key from a pocket that she didn’t even know he had. His clothes are ridiculous. Either it’s the leather jacket with the inner pockets deep enough to hold a large (full and gladly shared) flask, or these skinny jeans that don’t look like they could hold anything at all without her seeing the outline of them in his pockets, and yet she missed that.

Granted, she hasn’t let her eyes drift beneath his torso up until this point, and granted that she’s of enough sense of self to let them linger.

“Here you go, love,” he says. Even as he does, he doesn’t expect her to walk over, coming out behind the counter to offer the flower to her himself.

Emma opens her palm for it, and his touch is gentle as he presses it into her grasp. Red’s flooding her cheeks, but more so, her chest feels like she’s doused herself in Vicks, and without the smell to distract, all she feels is the path of heat beneath her skin, leading to places she doesn’t want warmed.

She doesn’t want to feel anything at all, but she shifts the flower into the other hand so she can drag her fingers over it, and gasps in surprise.

“It’s real,” she says.

“Of course it is,” he replies, smile amused.

“What? How?”

“Magic,” he offers.

She doesn’t like the way he says it. Like it’s true. Like it’s a truth he hates, and yet, Killian looks at her like he doesn’t hate it that much at all.

Emma should’ve left when Henry did, for all this encounter has done to her head. Messed with it. He likes messing with her. He likes her.

Flight kicks in, and she says, “Thanks. I have to -”

“Go,” he finishes.

She nods and turns away, her gaze catching on the shelves of objects and there they settle again on that jarred hand. The flower is so soft beneath her fingers. Cold, though. Too cold.

Emma bites her lip, pausing yet again.

“Some more advice?”

Killian lifts a brow in amusement. “Should I paint the walls? Hang some new shelves?”

“The hand should go, too.”

He stiffens again, clearly searching her face from some sort of understanding. She doesn’t think she’s confused him this much since their first meeting, when, after stumbling into her (or she’d stumbled into him, realizing all she’d had in her car by way of clothes were two tank tops and a pair of jeans and stomped away in frustration) he’d murmured, “Are you real, lass?”

She’d jumped at the question, hackles raising. “Of course I’m real. Are you drunk?” was her swift response to the light smell of alcohol cloaking him, and he’d confirmed her assessment with a deep nod, “Aye, I am. And you are,” his gaze roving over her in wonder, “Quite real.”

It’s weird because she feels like Killian should understand the way her hand inches up to her neck, fingers brushing the chain. It’s been there for so long, but she hasn’t given it conscious thought in so long. Yet, it’s been on her mind too much lately. That necklace Neal gave her feels as painful as the day she put it on, and it isn’t because she sees Henry and thinks of him, although she does because he looks like him and has that same mischief that Emma loved, and still loves.

But it hurts, how she’s holding onto this reminder of everything that told her she couldn’t do this, she couldn’t have this, and she should never want to - when she’s so scared of how things will turn out with Henry now that she’s in his life, and she can acknowledge that he’s in her heart, her love for him the softest thing that’s ever found its home there.

It hurts because she’s more scared of holding onto this reminder of every reason why she can’t when she suspects that she’s actually starting to believe that she can.

But Killian can’t know that, all the intimate details of her rocky past and all the thoughts floating in her head and the feelings in her heart, when she’s been making sure that he can’t.

It isn’t like Emma knows him either - no matter that there are pages in Henry’s book detailing how Captain Hook lost his hand and his love, and how his revenge led him to Neverland and not that Neverland created it. She doesn’t know Killian Jones beyond a story her son believes, and these moments they’ve had, sharing a flask at the docks, a quipped remark here and there, and flirting every time they meet, whether he’s walking out the doors of the Mayor’s office, or while he’s in heated conversation with Dr. Whale, or after he’s finished antagonizing David on Main Street. Plus, he bears a fondness for the Sheriff’s Office that she bears with zero grace.

She doesn’t know him; he doesn’t know her, but she understands.

“You should get rid of it,” she says, and offers a raised eyebrow of her own and a scoffed question, “What does Captain Hook need with another hand anyway?”

“Yes...Aye.”

He quiets, and his gaze follows the trail her hand leaves when she pulls it away from the necklace weighing at her neck and cups her hands over the flower. Her hands are warm, but it doesn’t feel like it’s wilting in the slightest. It’s cold against her fingers, just short of the bite of winter, the air after a fresh fall of snow.

Killian follows the lift of her ducked head, the press of her lips. Emma finds them dry, and licks out at them, and he follows that motion, too. He follows her movements with a focus she doesn’t know how to match.

But she’s watching him, too, so maybe that’s the same given the circumstances, when she should’ve walked out the door the moment she came in.

She should have…

Killian’s confusion slowly gives way to a wonder unlike the one before.

“Why does Hook need a hand indeed?”

Any other time, she’d expect him to smirk, offer himself to her just so she could deny him. The familiar game. But right now, she isn’t playing at that. She isn’t playing at all. Maybe there’s something to the wonder – the revelation in his eyes because she’s never felt barer than she does right now.

Someone knocks at the door of his shop, and it startles. Confusing. Why would anyone need to knock?

“Mr. Jones, I…”

She whips around to face the newcomer, a portly man she’s seen before when he’s definitely been up to no good by the way he stutters, “Sheriff Swan! You’re…”

Emma saves him his breath because it sounds like he needs it.

“Leaving.”

She shifts back to Killian, but whatever she saw moments before is completely gone. He looks more shadowed now than he did when he’d stepped out of the dark corner of his shop.

“Thanks again and just remember –” Remember what? This? Everything this conversation has been? What has it been?

“Add more lights?”

She doesn’t mean the question, except that she has too many.

“Shall do, Sheriff,” he replies.

There’s nothing more to say to that so she steps past the man and out into the sunny day. The door shuts behind her, and she frowns at it.

But there’s nothing more to do except go about what she’s been doing. Train her focus back to - she groans as she pulls her phone out her pocket, a struggled motion to keep the flower uncrushed while checking the screen.

She’s late to being on call.

-

The flower first goes on top of her desk, but it doesn’t feel safe - she’s worrying about the safety of a flower, what the fuck. It goes into her desk, but that feels wrong, and she starts to rationalize these irrationalities. It’ll get crushed in her pocket. She can’t just put it anywhere where it can get crushed, lost, stolen. That last one occurs to her after she looks at old case files and catches a report of a break in at the flower shop.

The best option becomes her dashboard, in the empty box of her new phone charger, bought at a price only reasonable in a small town with no other competition, and no other options. Amazon apparently does not deliver to Storybrooke, Maine.

It’s the curse, Henry would say.

It is a curse, definitely.

A few days pass with the flower in her car, and (irrationally) she checks every time she gets in, expecting disaster. It’s always as perfectly preserved as before. Just as alive.

It’s either goddamn magic or just the coolest trick anyone’s ever pulled off.

She’s leaning towards (the former, really, but she hates that, it’s completely insane so she tells herself it’s) the latter.

Emma doesn’t mention it. Not that it’s something worth mentioning, or something she should mention, but just...yeah is all she can say. She doesn’t understand it really at all. It’s just a feeling that keeps it a secret, protected within her twice-stolen car.

Inevitably, today Henry pops open the dash to access a pen and yells, “Where did you get that?”

Emma rubs at her ears, his yell more akin to a pitch that she won’t mention to him, to protect his pride.

“Calm down, kid. It’s just -” She looks at the flower as he lifts it delicately from the box, marveling at it. Swallowing around that feeling she can’t voice, she says, “Killian gave it to me because I gave him some advice.”

“Whoa,” Henry says, wide eyes on her. “He gave you that?”

His expression tightens, fierce thought in his eyes. His brain is working to the max. Not always a good sign. Never a sign her day is going to remain nice and quiet.

“Yeah. What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Emma, didn’t you read the whole book?” Henry accuses.

Embarrassed and guilty as charged (again), Emma says, “I read the important stories!”

“All of them are important,” Henry insists. Holding the flower up to her, he says, “Especially this one. The Dark One Rumplestiltskin tricked a woman into trading it to him to save her son. It’s protects you from all dark magic and it brings good luck. Of course, he wanted it to protect him from the Bog Witch’s curse - though it didn’t work for him because he is dark magic so he just kept it so no one could use it against him but…” Henry’s voice softens as he searches for an answer to his offered question. “Why would Captain Hook have that?”

A previous owner sounds like a good reason – if she’s to believe that…the feeling of pawnshop not belonging to him wasn’t an incorrect one.

Henry stares at the flower. Each word slow and measured, he says, “I think there’s some stories missing from the book.”

His gaze turns to her, so serious, an expression far too old for him to have. It’s the look of everything changing and having to face something you never thought possible.

Henry has been preaching the impossible since she met him. Nothing should be too impossible for him.

At a whisper, he says, “I think Captain Hook is the Dark One.”

Emma scoffs.

“Really?” she says.

She looks at the flower in his hand, and unthinkingly opens her palm for him to hand it to her.

“Seriously?” she reiterates.

She runs her fingers over the flower, over the ice cold petals in her hand.

‘Seriously?’ is what she asks, but it’s the answer as well. Seriously.

Emma really fucked up.

Emma really picked a shit time to start to believe.

[juhaku-inspired]

1, 2, 5, 7, 11, 12, 14, 20, 21, 23, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 32, 34, 35, 36, 39, 41, 44, 45, 47, 48, and 50 for the mm ask meme lololol~

jesus christ mika xD but thank you~

under a read-more for obvious reasons:

1- Favorite Character

Zen of course~

2. Favorite route

Seven’s route !!

5. Favorite “Cheritz” voice

probably Saeran’s cause it doesn’t sound like what you’d expect from him and I love it

7. Favorite chat emoji

and

11. Favorite party guest

ohh boy.... Maybe Longcat? or the Hackers Chasing Hackers guy cause it was fun completing the emails for them xD

12. Favorite chat

oh god there are so many how do you choose?? idk what one it was but the one where Zen’s saying how he doesn’t care what MC looks like cause “you’re already snug in my heart.” and he’s just being really sappy and I love him. Yoosung was there too. I have pics on my tablet but it’s dead rn so rip

14. Favorite CG

All of Zen’s Probably these:

*insert Seven’s heart emoji again*

20. Favorite ship (platonic/romantic)

...Zen x MC... YooRan is nice too. And SevenZen. I also kinda like Zen x MC x Seven but idk if that’s an actual ship haha  

21. Favorite character interaction with each other

Ahh in...Seven’s route? when Yoosung’s over Zen’s place and drunk af and Zen calls MC and is talking and calls them princess and Yoosung’s like “but Seven has the princess~~~~” it broke my heart but I also just love how Zen and Yoosung interact?? and Zen and Jaehee in Jaehee’s route. I love the mutual support gahhh~

23. Best character development

JUMIN HAN. Definitely. 

26. Best character design

Hmm probably Seven or Saeran... Saeran’s design is v interesting and edgy

27. Character who left the biggest impression on you

Zen~ tbh the first time I played it at the beginning I didn’t like him and thought he’d just be that narcissistic asshole character and I didn’t like how he picked on Yoosung about video games so much. but now I love him and yes he’s great.

28. Character you’d want to be BFFs with

Jaehee!! and Yoosung. I have a lot in common with Yoosung, I think we’d get along well.

29. Character you romantically ship yourself with

...Zen... just to point out....don’t think/play the game as my smol 16 y/o self I imagine me as like an adult, like 25, post top,...maybe not a best selling author but well off...ha....

30. Most relatable character

Yoosung~ for me at least. 

32. Funniest character

Seven ofc. And Jumin tbh, his sense of humor is hilarious.

34. First impression of the game

I had no idea how the mechanics worked and it’s not like I thought it was super realistic and adapted to every single choice you made but I didn’t understand routes and all that so I guess I thought it was more of an AI than it is....? I’m not sure what I mean but

35. First impression for each character

Yoosung- poor bby I too like playing video games 24/7 its ok I support you (hence why I got his route first xD)

Zen- asshole why are u so mean to Yoosung ur so narcissistic my g o d shut up

Jaehee- I’m not sure I remember?? She doesn’t trust you in the beginning ik so maybe I was a lil on edge cause of that. though I prob understood why she was cautious.

Jumin- I prob thought he was an uptight formal boss man. which he is. and yet he’s so much more than that that the same time...

Seven- the comic relief boi. haha, I don’t remember but probably something like that.

Rika- wow what a tragic story poor girl :c she deserved better. ...ha... It also made me feel weird about being in her apartment. like...living in a dead person’s house is kinda weird....

V- pOOR WIDOW WHAT A POOR SOUL PROTECT HIM THIS IS SO TRAGIC. I also thought it was really weird that people wanted a V route and romance w/ V cause??? he’s a mourning widow?? (do you even call males widows btw?) he’s not ready for another relationship his true love just fucking died?? What a wild time... 

Unknown- weirdo bad guy villain. I’m not sure what I thought lmao. 

36. First character you fell for

Hmmm good question?? Probably Seven, tbh?? I mean maybe more so Yoosung cause he was my first route but I remember in Yoo’s route at the party, seeing Seven so fucking sad and sorry broke my heart so much. fuck I love him

39. How did you find out about this game? What made you decide to download it? 

Tumblr was freaking out over it for a while. I didn’t get it right away but once it became all I saw on my dash I was like ‘alright I’ll try it ffs’ and the rest is history, kids. 

41. Have you completed all the routes and unlocked the secret endings?

I have~ I’ve gotten all the good endings and done the secret endings. I’ve also done a few of the normal endings (Seven’s, Zen’s, and Yoosung’s, I think) and I have very few of the bad end CGs cause it hurts me too much to try and get them, no matter what character it is haha.

44. How dedicated are you to this game? Do you set alarms and try to get 100% for each day etc? 

oh god there was a time where I set alarms for 2 or 4 AM in order to not miss chats. fuckin insane. I also used to write down all the chat times and checked the app every 2 hours once I learned the pattern of chat rooms. I’ve calmed down a lot now, and since I still have a bunch of HG from the VIP pack (and buying google play cards- yikes) I just pay for chats I miss. Which are usually only the ones from midnight-9~ish AM while I’m asleep xD. I’m still diligent in checking it every 2~ish hours during the day haha...

45. Do you play the game blindly or follow walkthroughs?

I played blindly until I got Seven’s day 10 bad ending which was my first bad end (I went through Yoo’s and Zen’s routes flawlessly??) and I panicked and used a walkthrough. I also used walkthroughs to get Jaehee and Jumin’s routes but played theirs blind unless I really needed help. Waitin’ on walkthroughs for DLCs so I can get the got damn CGs I need cause I cAN’T GET SAERAN’S ROUTE IN THE XMAS DLC FOR SOME STUPID REASON. 

47. Moments that made you laugh out loud?

So many. Mostly Jumin’s and Seven’s jokes :3

48. Ever cried or shed a tear while playing?

I already cry easy but the waterworks were constantly flowing because of this fuckin game. god damn. 

50. How has this game affected you overall? Do you regret playing it?

This game’s definitely changed my life for the better. I don’t regret playing it at all. It’s really helped me through a lot of things and probably affects me daily. If I’m sad I’ll look up at the sky cause I remember that one phone call where Seven says looking at the sky makes him feel better. That flower Zen sent that he says to look at when you feel anxious is something I’m seriously considering making my first tattoo. I fuckin named a floppy disk squishable (stuffed animal thing) Saeyoung and I have a build-a-bear Eevee I named Saeran. Nevermind how Zen’s route/ his character in general (and seven too tbh!!) have helped me with my body image and general self-love. Weird to rely on a mobile otome app for your mental health but, hey, whatever works right?