#grabs the dash. come getcha mans

[howlingday]

POKEMON AU) love is in the air as jaune takes a lucky someone out on a date, the only issue is that it's ren and now everyone is jealous of the two guys WHY DO THEY GET HAPPINESS?!?

"You didn't have to come with me, Ren." Jaune smiled at his friend. "I'm just grabbing a few things for my team."

"I also need supplies." Ren replied, walking alongside Jaune. "Not to mention, I feel we haven't interacted as much recently."

"Ah, I getcha." Jaune chuckled. "I can't remember the last time it was just us guys."

"I believe it was when we were training your Oshawott and my Kubfu."

"Right!" Jaune slapped his forehead. "Ugh, it feels like ages since that happened."

"It was only two weeks ago."

"Really? It feels like two months."

The two shared a chuckle as they continued. Not far behind, but unknown to the two, were their friends, Ruby, Nora, Pyrrha, and Yang. After noticing the boys were gone without their Pokémon, Nora began throwing wild acusations of the intentions of their departure.

"See?!" She whispered. "They're bantering!"

"Okay," Yang hissed back, "but how how is that dating?"

"It's step one of dating!" Nora glared at the back of Jaune's head. "That hussy is moving in on my man!"

"Who, Jaune?" Ruby asked.

"Of course Jaune!" Nora replied. "Look at him, with his sweet as sugar behavior, his kind and nuturing nature, and those dashing good looks! Argh!" Nora stamped her foot. "What man wouldn't fall for that?!"

"Uh, Ren?" Yang answered. "Look, I don't know how romance works, but I'm pretty sure they're just dudes hanging out."

"That's right." Pyrrha nodded. "They're just doing some male bonding, right, Ruby?"

"Omigosh..." Ruby stared, placing a hand over her mouth. "It's just like in my comics!"

"Oh, brother...." Yang shook her head.

"I'm glad one of you has enough sense to see it." Nora nodded.

---------------------------------------------------

"I don't see it." Ren said, shrugging as he held the yellow apple in his hand.

"Because you're not supposed to see it, you're supposed to smell it." Jaune took the apple, then wafted the empty air above into him. "Mhm, I was right." He set the apple back on the shelf. "It's not fully ripe yet, meaning it's not sweet enough."

"You know a lot about apples." Ren quirked a brow.

"I have to, Ren, otherwise I can't raise my team properly." Ren nodded at that.

Nora ground her teeth as she stared at them. Ruby watched them next to her, while Yang took this opportunity to look at dental sticks for Ember and Celica. Pyrrha helped her choose between the different brands, while occasionally glancing in the direction of the two boys in the produce section.

"See, I told you!" Nora repeated.

"Yeah, yeah." Yang murmured.

"Nora, I think you're taking this too seriously." Pyrrha commented. "Just because you and Ruby are spying on Jaune and Ren doesn't make you dating, does it?"

"No, of course not!" Nora waved off, then looked Ruby up and down.

"What?" Ruby asked.

"Eh, I can do better."

"Excuse me?!" Ruby balked.

"Yeah, excuse you?!" Yang barked at Nora.

"What?" Nora shrugged. "Ruby's too cute for me. Not my type of girl."

"Oh." The sisters replied.

"Plus, Pyrrha's way hotter."

"Huh?" The champion froze.

"Whoa!"

"I've got you!"

Jaune and Ren were in an interesting position, as Ren held Jaune after the blondest of the gentlemen slipped, nearly falling onto his back if his friend hadn't caught him. Out of context, they looked like they were dancing, and Ren had dipped Jaune low.

"Just like my comics! Just like my comics!" Ruby muttered.

"Oh my!" Pyrrha suddenly felt very envious of Ren's position.

"See, they are so dating!" Nora gestured to the boys.

"Nora, them holding onto each other like that doesn't make them dating." Yang rolled her eyes.

"Thanks for the save, Ren." Jaune pecked Ren's cheek. "I owe you one."

All the girls stood there, red-faced and open-mouthed. Ruby turned away, muttering more fervently, citing specific chapters of specific comics. Pyrrha covered her mouth in surprise, remembering her position as champion, and how unprofessional she looked in such a state. Nora was shifting back and forth between righteous indignation and daydreaming pervert.

"That, however, does." Yang commented.

---------------------------------------------------

"Thanks for hanging out with me today, Ren."

"It's no problem." Ren stopped before the door. "Before we go in, I need to know. Why did you kiss me earlier?"

"Oh, sorry." Jaune scratched the back of his head. "It's a thing we do back home. After helping someone, they give you a kiss as a way of saying thanks."

"I see." Ren touched his cheek. "For the future, I would refrain from kissing as a show of gratitude. It might give the wrong idea."

"OH COME ON!" Ruby, Nora, and Yang had to drag Pyrrha into the bush.

"But as an aside," Ren leaned in and pecked Jaune's cheek, "thank you for allowing me to accompany you."

"No problem, Ren."

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS LOAD OF-?!"

Dove's Skarmory screeched out at the evening sun.

[kafeuka]

[1/1] darling, it’s cold outside (we’ll be alright)

Before Jeongguk dies, he wanted to accomplish a lot of things. Most of his goals were unrealistic, things that could only happen in his dreams. He began writing a bucket list, and due to his indecisiveness, the lists were often crumpled and tossed into the bin.

Months ago, Jeongguk decided to keep the list short, simple and attainable.

Weeks ago, Jeongguk decided that he should start crossing off stuff from the list.

Tonight, Jeongguk decided that he would do it all at once.

And along the way, he met a vibrant man with bubblegum hair, clad in his signature black sparkling, glitter jacket.

(or: Jeongguk and Jimin went on a roadtrip to cross off everything on Jeongguk's bucket list)

read on AO3

Fingers picking on the loose thread of his jeans, feet incessantly tapping against the tiled floor, restless round eyes staring intently at the wall clock — one could tell that Jeongguk was feeling nervous and yet his parents paid him no mind.

 Aside from the sounds of his parents chewing and cutleries clashing against ceramic bowls, the table was silent. It had been like that since Jeongguk could remember that at this point, it felt more normal than when any of them decided to start a conversation. He barely touched his food, too busy staring at the clock situated on the wall near the empty seat. As they were a family that respected traditions and rules, Junghyun’s seat had been left empty for nearly three years now. Father was always sat facing mother while Jeongguk would face Junghyun, but all he was seeing now was an unoccupied seat and beige-coloured wall.

 Jeongguk was shaken from his reverie when he heard mother’s voice from his side. “Why aren’t you eating?”

 “Ah...” he dumbly responded before he reached out for the chopsticks and pretended to pick up some radish. “I’ve had a big lunch and continued snacking earlier,” he lied.

 Back when he was younger, he was taught that he should not lie. He never liked lying anyway, he hated the feeling of getting caught. These days, however, the lies would just roll out of his tongue rather smoothly; it was as easy as breathing.

 He surmised that he was a professional liar as his mother did not question him and instead resumed eating her food.

 One of the rules during dinner was to wait for everyone to finish eating before leaving the table and Jeongguk thought this had to be the longest he had ever waited — in fact it was probably even more excruciating than that one day on Thanksgiving. He blamed it on the nerves and the abundance of food his mother decided to cook today. Exhaling quietly, he decided to calm down by stuffing himself with the fried rice. After all, letting himself get too invested in counting the minutes only made the wait even longer.

 As soon as both of his parents placed their eating utensils on the table, Jeongguk dashed towards the wet kitchen and abruptly washed the dishes, eager to get away from the suffocating silence.

 After he was done, he would go straight to his bed room and stayed there for the remaining of the night. But not tonight. Tonight, Jeongguk had plans to do something else. Tonight, Jeongguk was finally going to do it.

       Before Jeongguk dies, he wanted to accomplish a lot of things. Most of his goals were unrealistic, things that could only happen in his dreams. He began writing a bucket list, and due to his indecisiveness, the lists were often crumpled and tossed into the bin.

 Months ago, Jeongguk decided to keep the list short, simple and attainable.

 Weeks ago, Jeongguk decided that he should start crossing off stuff from the list.

 Tonight, Jeongguk decided that he would do it all at once.

      Nearly everyone in Jeongguk’s group of friends were either the youngest or the middle child. More often than not, they would always complain how they were being treated unfairly because of the hierarchy. As Jeongguk grew older, he was expecting to have only hand-me-downs from Junghyun. After all, it was Junghyun’s crib he slept on and Junghyun’s outfits that he wore for the first few years of his life.

 The hand-me-downs stopped when Jeongguk reached sixteen, because there were not any items of Junghyun that could be passed down to him. Wearing Junghyun’s shirts and playing Junghyun’s console brought uneasiness and guilt crawling underneath his skin.

 But to cross off the first item on Jeongguk’s bucket list, he would need to borrow Junghyun’s car.

 Junghyun’s car was not exactly something that stepped out of Jeongguk’s dream — it was an old 4x4 truck, painted in cherry red, that did not have a working air conditioner. In addition to the unbearable heat, it never failed to make a loud screeching noise whenever the engine was started. The truck was not much, but Jeongguk knew it was a gift from their father that Junghyun treasured the most.

 The amount of times he had ridden the truck with Junghyun could be counted with just one hand, and he only enjoyed half the time they spent in the wretched truck.

 When the clock struck ten thirty, Jeongguk tiptoed down the stairs and as subtle as he could, he grabbed Junghyun’s car keys from the key rack near the front door. Snatching the keys was effortless; Junghyun’s car keys had a small red electric guitar keychain attached to it and seeing as all the lights were turned off, his parents were probably already sleeping upstairs.

 Starting up the car, however, was quite a challenge. He could still recall the secondhand embarrassment he felt whenever every time Junghyun started up the car in public, how everyone would turn their heads towards their direction because the engine made noises so loud that if the sky had hands, it would cover its ears. With a deep breath and unsteady hands, he carefully inserted the key into the keyway and silently prayed that the noise would not wake his parents up. He had no idea what he was supposed to say if they saw him in Junghyun’s car and he certainly could not afford to get caught. It was his only chance and it had to be tonight; any other day would not feel right.

 Once he turned the key, the truck began to make loud noises that would easily be mistaken as high-pitched squeals but there was no doubt that anyone in the Jeon household would know if someone had started up Junghyun’s car. He counted until five under his breath, not bothering to wait for the truck to fully warm up before he shifted to the reverse gear to back up the car and drove as far from the house as he could.

 “Wow,” he muttered under his breath, the adrenaline rushing through his veins. Unconsciously, his grip on the steering wheel was tightened as his heart pattered excitedly against his ribcage.

 He let out a laugh, amazed and proud at himself for taking the very first step that he had been so scared of. With the window lowered and a gratified feeling he had not felt for years, he thought:

 This must be what freedom tastes like.

           Jeongguk always preferred the silence to the loud. Which was why he was questioning himself why he’d let his three AM shadow to write the bucket list that included going a strip club as a part of it.

 A small part of him had always wondered what it was like to pay for a stranger to dance on him, to pretend that he was the only person in the world that mattered.

 He had sat inside the truck for ten minutes, staring at the eye-catching neon lights of the club’s exterior, debating whether he should ditch this one goal or just went on with it. He was so close to driving away, to never come back and pretended it was never on the list but he knew tonight, the list would do all the decisions for him whether he liked it or not.

 Based on his research, the club should be opened half an hour ago and yet when Jeongguk entered, he could count the amount of people there with one hand. The music was not as loud as he expected it to be — he can still hear the whistles from whom he assumed were the customers and the sounds of the bartender mixing up a drink.

 He paid no attention to the other clients, deciding that it was better to focus on himself and his bucket list for tonight. Just as he seated himself, a man with only a bowtie and a tight, black shorts approached him with a lazy smile.

 “What can I getcha tonight?”

 “Uh...” Jungkook looked up to him, hoping he looked like he was not lost. He swallowed and the guy only raised an eyebrow, which made him more nervous and somehow his answer came out as a question. “Juice...?”

 The guy’s face softened as he broke into a small laughter and Jeongguk could feel his face warmed up. Thankfully, he thought, at least the low lighting made it impossible to see his reddening face.

 “Oh honey, I meant I can getcha a beer, we ain’t got no juice here, I can also have someone dance for ya.”

 “In that case,” Jeongguk gulped before standing up from his seat. It was evident on his face that Bowtie was confused. “Please excuse me... I-I gotta go to the bathroom.”

 “Suit yaself.”

 Jeongguk wanted to run away. It was not for him; he knew it from the beginning but he could not bring himself to give up just like that. It was what Junghyun would have wanted. Instead of going straight back to the parking lot, he ran to the bathroom.

 The bathroom was clean, the walls were painted purple with pictures of men doing inappropriate poses hung on it. Jeongguk washed his face, hoping that in some way it could wash away all his thoughts of being a chicken. He stared at his reflection on the mirror, berating himself for even thinking of backing away. He had only just started, and if he were to stop now, he will never forgive himself ever.

 With new determination and fists shoved inside the pockets of his yellow jacket, he walked out of the bathroom, head held up high only for him to stop in his tracks when he saw a familiar face. Not far from the entrance of the bathroom, he saw a loyal customer from the jeans store he worked at. Jeongguk was good with faces, but this one was certainly unforgettable — pastel pink hair, rosy freckled cheeks and strawberry-tainted pillow lips. From where Jeongguk was standing, he could make out the usual glittered black jacket that he was always donning and the tight, ripped jeans that seemed painted on his legs.

 The person in front of him was bigger and taller than he was, his muscles were prominent despite the white shirt covering them. Jeongguk caught a few words from their conversation — or, a better way to say it was an ‘argument’.

 The Bigger one had his arms folded, trying to convince the Smaller to do something from the way he said, “You have to!”

 The Smaller had his brows furrowed, lips frowning and eyes burning raging fire as he countered back, “No!”

 Bigger said something before pointing a finger and prodding it on Smaller’s chest, seeming as if to threaten him, before leaving Smaller with his chest heaving and looking as if he was just told that his best friend had been sleeping with his partner.

 Absentmindedly, Jeongguk walked over, suddenly filled with the urge to comfort him even though they never really interacted aside from “is this the size you’re looking for?”

 “Rough night?”

 “Piss off,” Smaller spat out, glaring at Jeongguk. He crossed his arms in irritation, turning away from Jeongguk.

 Ouch. Jeongguk would be lying if he said that did not hurt.

 “You don’t deserve that.” Jeongguk pressed his lips into a straight line before letting out a sigh, placing one hand on the back of his neck and murmuring, “Just like I don’t deserve that.”

 Jeongguk saw the way Smaller’s eyes softened despite the frown on his lips.

Jeongguk did not know what came over him that made him say it, perhaps it was the small voice at the back of his head that reminded him that tonight was all about going out of his comfort zone, and that this would be counted as crossing off one item. Though he cringed when he recalled this back, he felt glad and overflowed with confidence as the words slipped out of his lips.

 “I’m going on an adventure tonight. You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

 Smaller’s eyes bulged and his mouth slightly parted open, shocked at the sudden invitation and if Jeongguk were to be honest, he would too if a stranger suddenly invited him to go for an adventure. The words were now out in the open, floating around mindlessly and Jeongguk did not wait for Smaller to catch them and give Jeongguk his answer. To mask his embarrassment, Jeongguk cleared his throat and hastily added, “It’s okay if you don’t want to. I-I’m gonna go now.”

 Awkwardly, he lifted a hand as a farewell gesture before storming off.

 “Oh my god,” he mumbled, fishing for the car key in his pocket. “What did I do that for?” he whispered to himself, horrified at the mess he created.

 He was ready to leave, maybe lie down on the road and wait for an oncoming dumpster truck to run over him, and just as he found the key, he heard a voice screaming, “Wait!”

 He turned to the source of the voice, to find Smaller was jogging towards his direction with his hand up. No longer did he had the frown on his face, and Jeongguk thought that he might have not made a mistake after all. Smaller halted, his chest heaving lightly before his lips stretched into a small smile that made Jeongguk’s heart fluttered.

 “Does the offer still stand?”

 Jeongguk could not help the grin that was taking over himself as he nodded.

 “Great,” Smaller beamed. “I’m Jimin, by the way.”

 “Jeongguk.”

 “Jeongguk,” Jimin said, as if to taste the new name on his tongue. “Do you accept me as your companion for your adventure tonight?”

 Jeongguk chuckled, shaking his head at the silliness he did not expect coming from Jimin.

 “It would be my pleasure, Jimin-ssi.”

        If, in an alternate universe where every thought you have will be written on your forehead, Jimin’s would probably be: ‘adventure, my ass.’

 Five minutes into their so called ‘adventure’ and the Jimin seemed as if he was ready to jump out of the car and run back to the strip club. To say he was worried about boring Jimin would be an understatement, because he could not stop swallowing and glancing at Jimin’s direction. Jimin had his elbow on the windowsill, head resting against his fisted palms as the wind made his bubblegum hair dance.

Jeongguk cleared his throat, straightening his back against the worn-out leather seat. He ran through the questions in his mind, trying to pick the one that was appropriate or interesting.

 “So, Jeongguk.” He heard Jimin spoke and all the questions in his mind dissipated. “Does going to a strip club counted as part of your adventure?”

 Jeongguk nearly choked at the mention of the strip club. He could feel his ears burnt hot as he chewed the inside of his right cheek. Before he could answer, a soft laughter was emitted from Jimin. He turned to Jimin, who was slightly shaking his head that it made his feet relax, his grip on the steering wheel loosened and brought a chuckle out of Jeongguk’s lips.

 “You can say that. Technically that’s not adventurous, as I chickened out and instead recruit you as a companion but yeah, it’s part of the adventure.”

 Jeongguk could tell that Jimin had something he wanted to say, and from the look on the guy’s face, Jeongguk was not sure if he wanted to know.

 “Say, Jimin,” Jeongguk spoke up as he checked his side mirror before pushing down the signal switch and shifting to the next lane. “Are you starving?”

 “Very.”

 “Great. ‘Cause on our next adventure, we’ll be eating the best donkasseu in the whole world.”

       The trip to Yeoju Rest Stop was not as uncomfortable as Jeongguk thought it would be. In fact, at the mention of donkasseu, Jimin was piqued with interest and Jeongguk noted that being excited made Jimin more talkative, that all his worries about drowning in silence vanished in a blink of an eye.

 Jimin argued that the best donkasseu in the world would have to at the restaurant near his home, and when Jeongguk voiced out that he never heard of it, Jimin was a tad bit offended that he promised to take Jeongguk there someday.

 Once they have arrived, Jeongguk was surprised at how lively it was. Although it was nearing midnight, the place was filled with the chatter of the people and the smell of delicious food. Jeongguk stomach grumbled at the sight of the potato pancake, a favourite of his since he was younger.

 Jimin could not help but let out a lot of ‘wow’s as they passed by each of the kiosks. The aunties and uncles behind the counters were greeting them cheerfully and they say words to entice them to buying their product. Jeongguk would have gotten everything if he could, but his main goal was the donkasseu.

 It was the donkasseu or nothing.

 Finally, when they reached the donkasseu kiosk, they halted right in front of it, staring at the menu. One of the waiters came out from the wet kitchen, bringing a tray of two donkasseu and two cans of cola, too busy trying to balance them to acknowledge Jimin and Jeongguk. Jeongguk’s mouth was watering by then, the smell of freshly cooked donkasseu filled his nostrils and all he could think about was stuffing himself with it.

 “Holy crap,” Jimin mumbled as his eyes followed the waiter. “It smells so good.”

 Jeongguk was in no state of mind to answer, afraid that a waterfall of his saliva would spill from his mouth if he did. He swallowed before walking towards the kiosk, hands on the counter. An auntie came out from the door, grinning from ear to ear when she saw them. Jeongguk thanked every deity to ever existed, because he did not know what he would do if someone hadn’t taken his order this instant.

 Jangmi – from the nametag the auntie was wearing – had wrinkles around her kind, almond eyes as she smiled.

 From Jeongguk’s observation when he was younger, every seller had different voices when they speak. He learnt this from his mother, who was a freelance baker. Jangmi had the same voice as his mother when she was attending a customer, though Jangmi’s was more towards pestering in a way, as she attempted to entice the both of them into getting two servings of fried prawns.

 After one full minute of ensuring Jangmi that they were good with just the donkasseu, they sat on a table at the end, the both of them facing each other.

 There was a rumbling sound coming from Jimin that made Jimin’s face turned into a scarlet hue while Jeongguk tried his hardest not to crack a smile.

 “Sorry. The smell, god, everything just smells so good here.”

 “Yeah. I didn’t know a rest stop could be this lively at night.”

 “Really? I thought you’ve been here before.”

 Jeongguk shook his head, lowering his gaze to stare at his fingers that were fumbling with the zipper of his jacket.

 Jimin raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, sensing that there was some sort of story that brought Jeongguk here. Jeongguk bit his lower lip, before answering in a soft voice, “My brother was the one who told me about this place. He really, really, really loved it. He promised to take me someday.”

 Though Jimin’s face had curiosity written all over it, he did not pry for more as his eyes followed the movement of a waiter carrying a bowl of jajangmyeon and tangsuyuk.

 “Thanks, by the way.”

 “For…?”

 “For paying on my behalf,” Jimin answered with a shrug, hoping that it passed as nonchalant but the pink tint on his cheeks indicated otherwise.

 Jeongguk chuckled, letting his head fall in an attempt to cover the smile that was trying to take over his face before replying, “No worries. It’s the least I can do after I drag you to my lame adventure.”

 “It’s not lame! Well, maybe, okay, a little bit.”

 “Hey!”

 The food arrived just in time, and both boys devoured the donkasseu in silent. Junghyun did not lie when he said this was the best donkasseu in the world; it was crispy yet juicy, the meat tender and the sauce, oh god, it was to die for. Jeongguk was the one who emptied his plate first, leaning back against the plastic chair to calm himself. He felt sated, both his heart and stomach.

 Jimin finished a few moments later, leaving the tomatoes on the side of his plate. He too, leaned back against his chair after grabbing a napkin to wipe the corner of his mouth.

 “Man… I don’t think I will ever eat any other donkasseu ever again.”

 “I second that.”

 “This one just put the other donkasseu to shame.”

 “Agreed.” After a while, Jeongguk added, “You don’t like tomatoes?”

 “Eh. Not a big fan,” Jimin murmured, pushing one of the tomatoes with a fork.

 “Me too. But there was sauce on them so I just ate them, and they’re pretty good actually.”

 “So, where do we go next?”

 “We’ll go where the list wants us to go.”

        “You said something about a list. This isn’t just some random adventure, isn’t it?”

 “To tell you the truth, they’re not even an adventure at all. Can eating at a random rest stop be called an adventure? I think it’s just me trying to convince myself that my life isn’t as boring as I make it out to be.”

 “Hm. So, you’re saying that, these are just things that you wanted to do before you die?”

 “You can say it like that, yeah.”

 There was a moment of silent before Jimin erupted with laughter as he slapped his thigh, his body shaking due to the intensity of it that Jeongguk was scared he might accidentally open the door and roll out to the road.

 Jimin calmed down no longer after that, but there was still mirth in his voice. “I can’t believe going to a strip club is part of your list.”

 “Hey!” Jeongguk said rather defensively, glaring at Jimin for a second before focusing back on the road. The road was practically empty, but Jeongguk still had the need to becareful. “It was something that I needed to do, okay.” He was aware of how sulky he sounded. It was not his intention, but it came out that way.

 “Oh shit… don’t tell me you have, like, three more days to live?”

 From the corner of his eyes, Jeongguk could see Jimin was turning his whole body towards him and he fought the urge to roll his eyes because of how silly Jimin was being. He did not have to look to know that sympathy and shock was written all over Jimin’s face. Without meaning to, Jeongguk let out an exasperated groan. “No, Jimin, damn it. The list is just things I needed to do before today ends, okay.”

 “Oh, okay then. That’s cool.” It had not even been five second of silence before Jimin spoke up again, “Wait, wait, wait, I have a question. What else are there in your list?”

 “Why do you ask?”

 “Aw, come on. I’m your companion now. I’d like to help. Isn’t that what companions are for?”

 Jeongguk sighed. He contemplated in telling Jimin, seeing how much laughter came out of him when he knew going to a strip club was in his bucket list. He readied himself for another round of laughter from Jimin as he said, “Do something illegal, smoke—”

 “Jeongguk, what the fuck.”

 “What?” He threw Jimin a pointed look, daring the bubblegum-haired to make fun of him again. Instead, Jimin only throw both his hands up, as if to ensure him that he was not going to say mean things.

 “Okay, go on.”

 “Uh, sleep under the stars—”

 “Jesus, just where do you think we can—”

 “There’s a desert that Junghyun told me about, a few miles away from Yeoju Rest Stop.”

 “Are we heading there now?”

 “Yeah.”

 “Dude, if we sleep now, how else can we cross off the other stuff?”

 “Maybe we can take a short nap…?”

 “Fuck, you know what, let’s do something illegal and smoke first. I know just what to do.”

       The words on paper was written after he gave it some thought. Now that he was about to do it, he now knew clearly, he had not given it enough thought. He did not know why he thought doing something illegal was a great idea. When Jimin laid out the plan, it seemed as if it was very easy to accomplish. But sitting in the car, staring at the broken 24/7 LED sign on top of the wall, made his palms sweat and he could not stop biting his bottom lip.

 The glass walls showed that the store was empty. At most, there would probably be another worker at the storage. He saw an old man behind the cash register, flipping through a newspaper. Who the heck read newspaper at one o’clock in the morning?

 Jimin, on the other hand, seemed eager. Despite the dark, Jeongguk could see his eyes twinkling in mischief. Maybe it was Jeongguk’s brain telling him that it was overheating with just the thought of robbing a store, but Jimin’s eyes shone brighter than his glittery jacket.

 “Are you ready for this?” Jimin whispered, grinning, his eyes not leaving the store.

 His tone made Jeongguk wonder why Jimin was the excited one between the two of them. It should be Jeongguk. Jeongguk was the one with the list. He was the one who created the list. Jeongguk swallowed, tearing his eyes away from Jimin to stare at the man again. The man was too immersed in reading that he did not realize that they had been sitting in the car for ten minutes.

 Jeongguk opened his mouth to speak, eyebrows furrowing as he turned to Jimin. “I don’t think we should—”

 “Trust me.” Jimin’s voice dropped an octave, his gaze was burning with determination, yet the sparkles were still there. “There’s no CCTV here. See?” Jimin pointed at nothing in particular. “No TV. No cameras. It’s one of the oldest stores in the branch, I reckon they don’t even bother upgrading their security system.”

 Perhaps it was how sure Jimin was, how confidence was literally oozing in every word he said and how for the first time tonight, Jeongguk saw the twinkles in his eyes and he did not want them to disappear, that Jeongguk felt assured and gave in. There was, however, one thing that concerned him.

 “But the cigarettes,” Jeongguk murmured. “They’re on the shelves behind him.”

 Jimin gave him a smile, one laced with mischief and promised trouble. Strangely enough, Jeongguk felt at ease though his foot was tapping against the floorboard, and without realizing, his lips curved upwards too, feeling his heart swell twice its size.

      If someone had told Jeongguk that he would be robbing a store with a random guy he picked up at a strip club, Jeongguk would have thought they were out of their mind. Jeongguk only watched as Jimin strutted inside the convenience store as if he owned it. Jeongguk, on the other hand, had to shove his fists inside the pockets of his jacket in a weak attempt to stop them from shaking.

 He hoped he did not look as nervous as he was feeling, because all he could hear were the sound of his heartbeat drumming vehemently in his ears. He went towards the coolers, reading all the names of the beverages to calm his nerves. After pondering for a while, he grabbed the six pack of beer, carefully holding it with both hands in fear he might accidentally drop them. From where he was, he peeked at Jimin, who was approaching the counter with swagger spilling all over the place with his hands holding a few snacks.

 Jeongguk tensed when Jimin nonchalantly leaned against the counter, pointing one of the boxes of cigarettes behind the cashier. The man gave Jimin a disinterested look as he grabbed a box, and when Jimin shook his head no, the man sighed and took another one.

 Jeongguk did not realize he was holding his breath until he heard himself exhale rather loudly, and it was only when Jimin turned to him, giving him a wink that he could finally breathe again.

That was the signal for Jeongguk to get ready to run. The thought of robbing the store so openly with the worker right in front of them had both anxiety and excitement thrumming through his veins.

 He nodded as a response, holding the six-pack close to his chest. He swallowed thickly against the wave of nausea that was bubbling in his throat, and he was certain his cheeks were flushed with the thrill of doing something he should not. He was getting closer and closer to Jimin now, who was still pretending to choose the right brand.

 Once he was only a few steps away from Jimin, Jimin asked for a lighter, earning another sigh from the man.

 “This the right one?” the man asked, not bothering to hide the irritation in his voice.

 “Yes, this’ll do. Perfect, perfect…” Jimin grinned.

 “Great,” the man muttered, folding his newspaper from the counter. When he turned to place the newspaper behind him, Jimin whisper-screamed, “RUN!” and that was all it took for Jeongguk to scamper away, one hand holding the six-pack tightly while the other scrambled to take out the keys from his jacket.

 By the time they have entered the car, it finally dawned on the man that they were gone. His fingers grew clumsy as he heard the man scream, terrible thoughts flooding into his mind as he failed to insert the key into the keyhole.

 “Holy shit, Jeongguk! Fucking drive, fucking drive!!” Jimin yelled, slapping the headrest.

 “STOP RIGHT THERE, FUCKERS!!”

 Jimin’s yelling, combined with the man’s booming voice demanding them to stop, only made Jeongguk’s palm sweat. He bit his lower lip, eyes never leaving the man while his hand was desperately trying to put the key in. Jeongguk expected the man to step over the counter, but thankfully they were given time as the man struggled to lift the counter top.

 “Fuck!!”

 “OH MY GOD,” Jeongguk screamed in both frustration and relief, finally able to insert the key and without even thinking twice, he started the engine, shifted to first gear and reversed.

 “HEY, STOP!!”

 The man was finally out, shaking his fists towards them and that was enough motivation for Jeongguk to press the gas all the way to the floorboard, driving away as fast as he could. From the rear-view mirror, Jeongguk could see the man was screaming, both middle fingers up to their direction.

 There was a moment of silence between the two of them.

 “Fuck,” Jimin murmured, his eyes glued to the dark road ahead of them.

 Jeongguk’s chest were heaving, lungs desperate for air. He could still feel the adrenaline in his veins and a fine sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. “Fuck,” Jeongguk muttered before a peal of laughter rose through his chest, escaping his lips before he could even try to hold it in.

 Jimin also burst into a relieved laughter, his whole body vibrating with tiny tremors as he reached out to hold Jeongguk’s shoulder.  

 “Did you—” Jimin had to paused in between his laughter, lightly and repeatedly patting Jeongguk’s shoulder as if the gesture would help to squeeze the words out. “D-did you see his fa-face?”

 “Jimin, don’t—” Jeongguk guffawed, nearly steering them to the other lane.

 “I can’t believe he waddled instead of running, oh dear lord.”

 They laughed and laughed and laughed to their heart’s content and nothing in particular, feeling as if they had the night in the palm of their hands. Jeongguk could not remember the last time he felt this way; free and happy, like birds gliding across the skies.

    Some of the street lights were not working, and Jeongguk had to rely on the headlights and the moonlight to guide them there. They had been laughing their asses of on their way there, too busy recalling the look on the worker’s face and telling the stories of how they were sure they were not going to make it out alive.

 When they arrived at the desert, Jeongguk drove a tad bit further than he intended before shifting the gear to neutral and pulling the handbrake up. Turning off the headlights and engine, both of them went out, with Jimin holding onto the snacks and Jeongguk the beers. Jeongguk placed the beers onto the bed floor of the truck before unlocking the tailgate and climbing inside, Jimin following him afterwards.

 While there was only a landscape of sand ahead of them, above them were black skies painted with specks of sparkling silvers and strokes of velvet and violet. Except for the both of them, the desert was empty of life, and it almost made Jeongguk feel as if they were the only ones awake at this hour; that they were the only ones who witnessed the moon gradually retiring to her slumber.

 Jeongguk sniffed, pulling his jacket closer to him as the cold air nipped on his neck.

 He took out the beers, opened one and handed it to Jimin before opening one for himself. Jimin took the can with a murmur of ‘thanks’ as he placed the snacks before them. Jeongguk took a sip of his first beer, surprised at how bitter it was. He pulled away, staring at the can in disdain. Jimin let out a chuckle at Jeongguk’s expression as he took a sip himself.

 “Blegh, this isn’t that good,” Jeongguk muttered.

 “They’re alright.” Jimin shrugged as he leaned on both of his palms to get a better view of the night sky.

 Jeongguk was never a fan of the dark, but here with Jimin and the winking stars, it gave him comfort. It was half-moon tonight, and while Jeongguk was able to view skies from his bedroom window, he knew nothing could ever beat the view he was witnessing right now. Here, everything was clear. No air pollution, no karaoke noises from the neighbours and no parents who stopped talking to you.

 “I feel bad,” Jeongguk voiced out, shaking the can lightly before sipping on it. He was still not accustomed to the taste, but the thought of not finishing it made him frown. It was the least he could do. He hissed at the taste before adding, “For the cashier guy.”

 Jimin chortled, slightly shaking his head. “Hey, it’s your list.”

 “But still.”

 “You wanna try smoking now?” Jimin asked, taking the cigarette box out of the pocket of his jeans to wave it to Jeongguk. Jeongguk took it, heart pounding against his chest as he held it. There was a dent in the corner and it felt light.

 Reluctantly, he tore open the package and took one stick out of the box. He glanced at Jimin, who was staring at him expectantly with a lighter in his hands.

 “Are you gonna do it with me?” Jeongguk did not like how his voice came out as a whisper, as if to indicate that he was scared of doing it alone.

 Jimin gave a sardonic grin before grabbing the box from Jeongguk, pinching the filter before putting one stick in between his lips before he flicked on the lighter. Jeongguk’s eyes followed the way Jimin brought the lighter closer to him, the light from the fire illuminated on Jimin’s face and casted shadows over his cheeks. Jimin softly inhaled, and when he exhaled, Jeongguk saw there were smoke coming out from both his mouth and nose. Involuntarily, Jeongguk scrunched his nose at the smell of smoke.

 “You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Jeongguk muttered, suddenly feeling like a fool for assuming that Jimin had not.

 “Back in high school, yeah. Mum died of cancer, so I swore to stop. Occasionally, I found myself breaking my own promise, but most of the time I’m doing all right.”

 “Oh. Sorry. About your mum, I mean. And for making you do this again,” Jeongguk murmured, head hanging low as he rolled the cancer stick between his thumb and index finger. He contemplated in pretending smoking did not exist in the list, just like how he wanted every single thing in the paper to be crossed off without actually doing it.

 “I’m not doing this for you, silly,” Jimin chuckled, taking another drag from the cigarette. When he exhaled, he stretched out his hand away from the floorboard to tap the ashes off of his cig. He said, “We’re in this weird adventure together.”

 Jeongguk liked how that sound. Weird adventure. Together. Jimin made it sound like he genuinely meant it and Jeongguk liked the feeling the words gave him; warmth, as if he was embraced.

 With awkward hands, Jeongguk lifted the stick to his lips, only for Jimin to stop him. “Hold on, darlin’, you gotta—” Jimin reached out, taking the cigarette from Jeongguk to squeeze the filter before handing it back.

 “What do you do that for?” Jeongguk asked, eyes wide in confusion, lower lip jutting out slightly.

 Jimin inhaled the smoke again, and when he exhaled, Jeongguk watched as the wisps of smoke left his lips as he smirked. “You’ll see.”

 Biting his lower lip, Jeongguk fiddled with the cigarette before finally placing it between his lips, careful not to let his tongue touch the filter. His fingers were holding onto the lighter too tightly that if he held onto it for a second longer, he was sure it might break. He was a bit shaky as he flicked the lighter, he noticed, and he was pretty sure his eyes were crossed from staring at the tip of the cigarette too hard.

 When the cigarette was finally lit up, his cheeks were sucked in as he inhaled the smoke greedily, his eyes widened a smidgen when he felt it entering his lungs and he pulled the stick away, coughing up the smoke. He heard Jimin giggle and felt his hand on his back, patting it softly.

 “Greedy boy,” Jimin chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

 Jeongguk stared at the cigarette in between his thumb and index finger in bewilderment as he smacked his lips. He was surprised that it was not as bad as he expected it to be, in fact it had a cooling effect and tasted like… strawberry. He tried to blink the thought away, he was probably just hallucinating.

 “It tastes weird,” he voiced it out, smacking his lips again. The bitterness of the beer, combined with the bittersweet taste of the cigarette, would not leave his tongue. “Like… strawberry? I don’t know.” He hoped he did not sound like a child when he said that.

 Jimin grinned, flicking the ash. “Yeah. It’s the filter.”

 “Oh,” he deadpanned. “I see.”

 “You don’t have to smoke all the way, you know that, right? You’ve crossed off another item from your list.”

 “Yeah,” he answered quietly, staring at the gray ashes that were forming at the tip of the stick. “Yeah,” he answered again, a bit louder this time as he mirrored Jimin’s action; tapping on the cigarette outside of the truck.

 Jimin climbed down from the truck, breathing in the smoke rather harshly, not stopping as if it would be his last, and Jeongguk had counted until twenty when Jimin finally pulled the stick away and threw it to the ground. He raised his head to the night sky, and Jeongguk watched, mesmerized, as Jimin puffed out the smoke as if he was a dragon.

 The whole thing was fascinating to watch, as if it was something that came out of a movie; Jimin, with his head up, lips slightly parted to let the smoke escape and there were abundant of stars twinkling above him on the jet-black firmament.

 Jeongguk did not realize he was staring, utterly enthralled at the way Jimin was just being himself. He was only snapped out of his dreams when Jimin called out his name, hand reaching out for Jeongguk to hand his cig over.

 Without hesitation, Jeongguk gave Jimin his cig, barely smoked and only a few millimeters short from its original size. Jimin did the same thing he did before, he threw the cigarette to the ground before stomping on the both of them with his black boots. Once he was done, he ran a finger through his bubblegum hair, gave Jeongguk a heart-stopping smile before stepping inside and sat down next to Jeongguk.

 “Not bad, huh?”

 “Not really. It doesn’t feel good either.”

 “Yeah. Don’t ever do it again, though.”

 Jeongguk cracked a smile. “I promise.”

 “That’s a sweet boy.”

 He knew the darkness helped conceal his face, but he turned his face away anyway, hoping that Jimin would not catch the blush that were making its way to his cheeks. A few minutes passed by with the both of them sitting in silence, staring at the sky in admiration, sipping warm beer and eating the snacks they acquired from the convenience store earlier. Jeongguk found that he hated the taste of cigarette on his tongue more than the beer, which lead him into stuffing himself with the snack to rid of the taste.

 Jimin was munching on the potato crisp when he asked, “Was I a part of your list?”

 Jeongguk nonchalantly shrugged as he bit a chocolate-covered biscuit stick. “Yeah, you can say that.”

 “Huh. What was it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 Jeongguk took another bite of the peppero, humming and lightly tapping the it on his chin as if to appear in a deep thought. “It was… hm… make an impulsive decision.”

 Jimin giggled before plopping a potato crisp in his mouth. “Really, Jeongguk?”

 “Uhuh.” “Thought it’d be picking up a stripper or something.”

 The confusion Jeongguk was feeling was probably evident on his face, because Jimin let out a laugh and explained, “Please don’t tell me you have no idea that I worked there.”

 Jeongguk’s jaw dropped and he was lucky that he was holding the peppero tightly as his hand fell too. Jimin’s laugh only grew louder at Jeongguk’s reaction, enjoying the way Jeongguk was drowning from sea of confusion to shock in just a blink of an eye.

 “Honestly, I only approached you because—” Jeongguk stammered, his eyes were still wide like a deer caught in a headlight, “b-because I recognized you as a,” he paused to swallow, “r-regular at the jeans store I worked at.”

 “Ah! So that’s why I felt like I’ve seen you before!”

 Jeongguk frowned. It would be a lie if he said he did not feel a twinge of pain when Jimin said that.

 The concept of time was soon forgotten as they spent laughing and telling each other stories about each other. Jeongguk was getting gigglier, or maybe Jimin was just a natural comedian, his limbs were tingling and they felt light.

 They shared their horrible experiences with customers, about the best jajjangmyeon they’ve ever eaten and their childhood stories. Jeongguk learnt that Jimin was a rebel in high school, but he always aced every exam so the teachers let him off easy. (“That fueled me to rebel even more, you know?”)

 Compared to Jimin, Jeongguk’s life was a boring, straight line. Nevertheless, he enjoyed listening to Jimin talk animatedly about the troubles he caused years ago. The stories got them doubling over and it was a miracle that none of them had spurted out beer out of their nostrils yet. They calmed down after a while, enjoying the night and the stars in silence with beers and snacks in hand.

 Though he was not fond of it, Jeongguk opened up a second can of beer just to have something to drink. His fingers clumsily grazed against the pop tab a few times before he could successfully get his index finger under the tab and lift the backside to open the can.

 “Question!” Jimin suddenly yelled out with a slap on his thigh. “If we were going to sleep under the stars on this truck, why haven’t you brought pillows and blankets?”

 Jeongguk thought about it for a moment before bursting into laughter, and he never thought of his laughter as contagious, but it coaxed a laughter out of Jimin too.

 “Why didn’t I—” Jeongguk wheezed, body shaking uncontrollably that he had to put the can down. “Why didn’t I th-think about it!”

 The laughter only stopped when Jeongguk felt droplets of water on his face. “Eh?” he questioned, lifting his head up in the sky as he felt more droplets hitting his cheeks.

 “It’s raining!”

 “Shit!” Jeongguk hissed, scrambling to his feet as he grabbed the snacks and the beers. He nearly stumbled as he jumped down to the ground. He heard Jimin giggle as he opened the backdoor, shoving the items in his arms inside.

 “Jeongguk! Get out of there! Come dance in the rain!”

 “Wh-what?” Jeongguk asked in disbelief. God, his tongue felt so weird now.

 Jimin squealed as he climbed down the truck, twirling himself as the clouds began to cry even more. Jeongguk had his back against the truck, eyes trained on Jimin.

 “Take my hand!” Jimin shouted despite the gentle sound of millions of little marbles hitting the truck.

 Reluctantly, Jeongguk took Jimin’s hand and with a giggle, Jimin pulled him closer. They were dancing, holding each other’s hands as they jumped and skipped, ignoring the way their clothes were getting heavier and hair drenched due to the rain. Jeongguk felt like he was floating and Jimin was there, acting as an anchor to help him stay afloat.

 He did not fight the grin that threatened to take over his face, he let the slow warmth spread from his chest to the tips of his fingers as the took the delight in Jimin’s crescent eyes and the happy noises that left his rosy lips. The butterflies in Jeongguk’s stomach were too busy lifting his heart up into his throat for him to be bothered by the rain droplets trickling down from his hair to face.

 “We are gonna get sick!” Jimin squealed, spluttering the rain water that fell down to his face.

 Jeongguk’s eyes lit up at the sight, before he let out a laughter. The sound of water thrumming on steel reminded Jeongguk of millions of hands clapping. As if they were clapping for him and Jimin. As if they were celebrating this moment, where Jeongguk finally overcame his fears. He raised his head to the crying sky, opening his mouth and let rain drip into it, tasting its tears.

 Back in the truck, the both of them had taken their jackets off. The rain had eased off, but they were still tittering and guffawing in delight. Jeongguk sighed in contentment, limbs still tingling as he struggled to grab the keys from his drenched jeans. Everything felt so heavy, and the inside of the truck was wet for god’s sake, but that was not Jeongguk’s main concern.

 “Jimin…” he murmured, resting his back against the seat. “I think… I think I’m drunk.”

 “Oh god…” Jimin chuckled, running his fingers through his wet hair. There were drops that fell onto Jeongguk’s face as Jimin did that. Jeongguk’s reaction was to shake them away, resulting in droplets falling everywhere, which somehow made him feel nauseous.

 “Can you— can you drive? I don’t, I don’t think—”

 When was speaking this difficult?

 “Sure, darlin’, gimme a sec yeah—”

 What was supposed to be done in under a minute stretched into five as Jeongguk felt his lids were getting heavier by the second. He was startled awake when he felt Jimin shaking him from the side. He did not realize Jimin had gotten out of the car and open his door, waking him up so he could move to the passenger seat.

 After a while, Jeongguk was finally on the passenger seat, his whole body turning to face Jimin, who was now holding onto the steering wheel.

 “Okay, okay,” he heard Jimin breathed out, sounding as if he was attempting to calm himself. When the truck finally roared to life, Jeongguk’s lips tugged up into a lazy smile. Slightly shivering, he hugged himself as he let out a sigh.

 “I need you to stay awake, okay?” Jimin asked, caressing Jeongguk’s drenched cheeks. Jeongguk nodded, though his eyes were closing as he leaned into Jimin’s hand. “Truth be told, I’ve never driven a stick before, so I need you to guide me, yeah? Can you do that for me, darlin’?”

 “Yeah, yeah, any-anything, anything for you.” Jeongguk was mumbling breathlessly as his teeth chattered, losing the fight with himself to keep his eyes open.

 “Good. So, what the heck should I do first?”

      Jeongguk did not know being drunk could be… tedious. He should have known that movies lie all the time. He hated not being able to walk properly, hated the feeling that the world was spinning or he was spinning, he was not sure at this point. But if there was one thing he was certain, it was the fact that the truck kept on stalling when Jimin was driving.

 Every time it lurched forward, Jeongguk was shoved awake to the cold reality. He knew if Junghyun was here, he would murder Jeongguk with his own hands for letting that happen to his baby.

 The next time Jeongguk opened his eyes, Jimin was shaking him lightly as he kept on saying his name. Though reluctant, Jeongguk forced his eyes to open to find them parked. The first thing he registered was Jimin’s face – his hair was still wet from the rain, but his face was dry, his nose and cheeks tinted red. His face was luminated by bright purple lights coming from the motel sign above. He squinted and noticed it was still dark. He swore it felt like they were driving till sunrise.

 “Uh… where—” God, his mouth tasted terrible. “Where are we?”

 “Good, you’re finally up. I booked us a room. We need to clean ourselves up.”

 “Room?”

 “Yeah.”

 With much difficulty, he managed to drag himself up the stairs with Jimin’s help. Not only his clothes were heavy, but his legs and eyes were refusing to cooperate with him. He wanted to jump from the first floor for being such an embarrassment, but hearing Jimin giggle every time he wobbled was worth the humiliation.

 If Jeongguk could describe their room in one word, it would be: vomit.

 The room Jimin booked them were far from luxurious. The walls were painted gray and above the queen-sized bed hung a mediocre painting of flowers in a vase. The curtains were a terrible shade of green, which reminded Jeongguk of camo pants and TV was small and bulky.

 Jeongguk let out a sigh of relief at the sight of the bed, already planning to jump and lay there forever. Before he could, Jimin stopped him, shattering all dreams of molding one with the bed.

 “You should take a shower. It’ll make you feel better.”

 “But—”

 “We wouldn’t want the bed to be wet, do we?”

 Jeongguk grimaced. “But what about you? How are you gonna sit?”

 “Don’t worry, I’ll wait for you. Go on, then.”

 Usually, Jeongguk loved taking his sweet time in the shower. However, the thought of Jimin waiting while standing outside made guilt gnaw in his chest. He would have gone out after he shampooed his hair, but it took nearly ten minutes for the water to finally be warm. Jimin was right though, the warm shower did make him feel better. Jeongguk wanted to scream at the thought of not brushing his teeth but thankfully, there were a few necessities in the cabinet. A part of him regretted letting himself play under the rain because he did not have any spare clothes back in the truck. Muttering to himself about how careless he was being, he picked them up before pathetically wringing them and hung them on the drying rack. He was extra careful with the jacket, squeezing it gently in comparison to his shirt and underwear.

 “Shit,” Jeongguk hissed when it dawned to him that there was only one robe provided. He stared at his misty reflection on the mirror, hair wet and cheeks rosy, and he felt like a bitch for already clad in the robe.

 He glanced at the opened cabinet, and saw a white towel folded neatly at the corner. He breathed a sigh of relief before walking out of the bathroom, feeling fresh and warm. Jimin was standing by the bed, a remote in his hand while his eyes were glued to the TV. When Jeongguk walked out of the bathroom, he did not hide the excitement in his face.

 “Oh, thank god,” Jimin breathed out before tossing the remote to the bed and dashed to the bathroom. Jeongguk chuckled when he noticed there was a dark spot near the bed where Jimin had stood.

 He thought he would have gone to slumber the moment his head hit the pillow, but sleep did not come easy. With a sigh, he grabbed the remote and pressed the button, hoping to find a channel that would entertain him. In the end, he settled for a rerun of Spongebob Squarepants. It was either that or a horror movie, and he was not feeling horror movie at all.

 Fifteen minutes into Spongebob, Jimin was finally out of the bathroom. And God, Jeongguk wished he was in a deep slumber right now, because Jimin was naked. Technically, he wasn’t as he wrapped a towel around his waist, but Jeongguk’s brain could not help but to scream ‘ALERT!’. It was obvious how gorgeous Jimin was, but with his pink hair dripping, cheeks coloured crimson and exposed skin coated with droplets, Jeongguk was suddenly embarrassed that he was fully naked underneath the bathrobe.

 “That was refreshing,” Jimin grinned before cracking his neck and jumped to the bed.

 Jeongguk found it hard to swallow as his throat was dry as hell. Jimin did not speak again after that, and Jeongguk was afraid his voice might break if he tried to. Hell, Jeongguk did not even dare to breathe when he found the courage to check if Jimin was sleeping. Just as he turned his head, Jimin mirrored his action before asking, his voice so soft that if they were not this close, Jeongguk would’ve thought he was imagining things, “Why tonight?”

 Absentmindedly, Jeongguk pressed on the remote button, shutting the TV off.

 “What?”

 “You mentioned it’s the list of things you have to do before today ends. What’s so special about today?”

 Jeongguk had to will his heartbeat to slow down as he stared into Jimin’s curious eyes. Jeongguk blinked, opening his mouth to speak but the words get caught in his throat. He was not sure if it was because the most gorgeous being to ever walk the Earth was staring at him intensely, or if it was because he could not bring himself to talk about this matter.

 He blamed it on the beer. Maybe he was still drunk, only god knows.

 Maybe he found it easier to talk to a stranger he had spent the entire night with.

 Maybe it was the comfort he felt around said stranger, how Jimin’s eyes were nothing but curiosity, free of malice.

 Or maybe it was the uncertainty of them not seeing each other again after the night ends. The thought made him swallow nervously, his heart shattering into tiny pieces of glasses.

 “It’s the death anniversary of my brother.”

 “Oh.” Was all Jimin could say.

 Jeongguk turned away, his index finger picking on one of the buttons on the remote, but he did not put enough pressure to click on it. Despite how heavy his heart was, he felt a surge of relief flowing through his veins. There was not any regret at all, even though he knew he should have never kept it alone this long.

 “Did he do all those things?”

 “Yeah, he did.”

 Surprised at the sudden warmth enveloping his hand, he glanced to see Jimin’s hand on top of his. He berated his heart for skipping a beat and his cheeks for suddenly feeling warmer than it was supposed to. He prayed to any god listening out there that Jimin would not notice the sudden pink hue visible on his cheeks.

 Somehow, the gesture gave him courage to speak up more, to let out those thoughts that had been haunting him for the past three years ago.

 “He did all these things, you know, living his life to the fullest. I do not understand it at first, why would he risk his life doing such things. Why he would still do it, though he knew our parents would disapprove of it. Of course, there were more things he did, I’m sure of it. It’s… no matter how much I think I know him, it’s impossible for me to know all of him.”

 “Oh, Jeongguk,” Jimin murmured, shifting himself closer, hand never leaving Jeongguk’s.

 Jeongguk did not realize how shaky his breathing was, how he tried so hard to blink the tears away until he spoke again, “It was a hit and run, Jimin. It was—” he swallowed before sniffing, “—, how could someone leave a person to bleed out just like that?”

 “My sweet, sweet, darling,” Jimin whispered when Jeongguk began sobbing.

 There was no room for embarrassment as his head was filled with memories of his late brother. He let Jimin’s hand gently push his head to rest on Jimin’s shoulder as Jimin’s arm wrapped around him. Jeongguk did not know it was possible to feel such tremendous pain even after years it happened. All the sadness he repressed for years finally spilled in front of a stranger he met just hours ago. A stranger who was willing to be there for him every step of their so-called adventure.

 “I know it’s hard, darlin’, but you’re with me now, aren’t you?”

 Jimin’s voice was gentle, soothing even, as he caressed Jeongguk’s hair. He felt droplets of water dripping to his cheek from Jimin’s hair, but he could not bring himself to care when his face was drenched with his own tears. He let them fall freely, down to his fisted hands, Jimin’s shoulder and chest.

 “I will never let anything hurt you while I’m here.”

 Jimin continued to whisper sweet reassurances in his ear, making him feel as if he was embraced with all the kindness and gentleness in the world. He eventually calmed down a few minutes after bawling his eyes out, impressed that he could show a weak side of him that he hated to another being. Moreover, a stranger.

 “You alright, love?”

 “A bit.”

  “Let’s sleep, shall we? Only an hour after sunrise, but it’s not tomorrow until we close our eyes,” Jimin murmured against his head before planting a kiss.

 The gesture was simple, yet it made Jeongguk’s heart swell twice its size. He did not know it was possible to be so far away from home, yet feel such comfort in the arms of a man he had just met.

 “We’ll be shivering if we sleep like this,” Jimin huffed, and when Jeongguk felt Jimin’s hand leaving his ear, Jeongguk made a move to held Jimin tighter.

 Jimin did not speak after that, understood completely that Jeongguk needed him here. With a smile, he gently rested his head against Jeongguk, his hand finding its way to caress Jeongguk’s clothed arm. Jeongguk was not sure how long they stayed like that, the only sound he could hear was Jimin softly humming, a lullaby he fell asleep to.

 Before the sun rose, for the first time since his brother was gone, Jeongguk dreamt of Junghyun.

       Jeongguk woke up to the sound of a loud whirring. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he blearily turned his body towards the source to find Jimin was crouching on the floor next to him with a hand dryer in his hand. Belatedly, he realized that he had been lying on a pillow, and wondered how Jimin was able to move him without waking him up.

 “Ji…min?”

 “Oh.” Jimin was facing him now as he turned the hand dryer off. Jeongguk noticed he was still naked from the torso up, but he was wearing his jeans now. “You’re awake.”

 Jeongguk blinked, his lower lips jutting in annoyance as his eyes tried to adjust to the harsh sunlight. “What are you—”

 “Drying our clothes,” Jimin answered with a grin as he waved the hand dryer.

 Jeongguk glanced on the carpeted floor and grimaced when the memory of him letting Junghyun’s favourite jacket drenched in rain water came across his mind. Their clothes were not as wet as before, but even from where he was, Jeongguk could tell that they needed more than a motel hand dryer.

 Jeongguk contemplated in sleeping again, but sleep refused to come to him no matter how hard he tried to close his eyes. With a sigh, he managed to drag his feet to the bathroom and take a warm shower to wake himself up.

     The water stayed cold the whole freaking time. It was nearly driving Jeongguk crazy. When he went out of the bathroom, Jimin was already dressed in his shirt, but his glittered jacket was still on the floor. Jeongguk sat on the bed and watched Jimin desperately trying to dry his jacket.

 “Your clothes are already dry, by the way.”

 “Thanks. And, uh, sorry for the trouble.”

 “No worries,” Jimin grinned. “Wouldn’t wanna wake you up.”

 Jeongguk grabbed his clothes and went back inside of the bathroom to dress himself. Once he was done, he walked back to where he was and sat behind Jimin, who was on the floor. They sat in silence for another half and hour or so, with Jeongguk just staring outside of the window. The clouds gliding against the vast blue sky reminded him that it was a new day, that he was still here with a new friend beside him. When Jimin decided that they were all dry, he brought Jeongguk downstairs to grab breakfast.

 Hearing the word ‘breakfast’ made Jeongguk think of scrambled eggs and warm toast, but instead, he was staring at the colourful packages of snacks inside the vending machine. It almost felt as if he was living a silly dream he had when he was a kid; to have candies for breakfast.

 Jimin inserted a few coins before pressing the buttons, while Jeongguk was still deciding which one he wanted. Before he could even open up his mouth and point at the Kit Kat, Jimin had already picked up his snacks and shoved a Kit Kat against Jeongguk’s chest.

 Dumbfounded, he stared at it, Jimin’s hand still on his chest before he took the chocolate and murmured a “thanks”.

 “You think too much,” Jimin said as he unwrapped his candy bar.

 “I can’t choose,” Jeongguk muttered, turning the Kit Kat around to investigate the expiration date. “I mean, there are a lot of options there! The Kinder Bueno seems like a good choice, but I’m not feeling cream, you know? Snickers too, but I don’t like peanut and nougat.”

 Jimin chuckled, clearly endeared at how Jeongguk was ready to go on a debate mood over candy bars. “Well, you chose me out of all the people in the club to bring to your little adventure. I think that’s impressive and a wise choice.”

 Jeongguk blinked, the sudden realization made him stop in his tracks while Jimin continued walking, too absorbed in his snack to notice Jeongguk was no longer beside him. He only stared at the back of Jimin’s head, the bubblegum floof bouncing slightly with every step he took.

 Jimin was right. He was not thinking at all when he had invited Jimin, and he certainly did not have any remorse about his questionable choice, not even a twinge of regret even after he humiliated himself in front of Jimin.

 When he realized Jeongguk was not where he was, Jimin turned around, Kit Kat in between his teeth to look back to Jeongguk.

 “Shall we go now?”

       “Have I mentioned that I haven’t driven a stick before?”

 Jeongguk took a glance on Jimin for a second before focusing his eyes back on the road. There were more cars in the morning compared to the night before.

 “Not until I was drunk, I think.”

 Jimin laughed, a sweet sound that reminded him of gum drops.

 “Well, to tell you the truth, I don’t have a license yet, so…”

 “Jimin!” Jeongguk gasped. Alright, he took it back. Maybe he did have one regret.

 “What? We’ve arrived safely, haven’t we? It’s not like I have never driven before! Besides, we’re all alright now, aren’t we?”

 “Oh really?” Jeongguk’s voice was laced with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. “I feel so safe now, thank you for the clarification!”

 Jimin let out another laugh, and Jeongguk find the sound to be comforting. He could listen to Jimin’s laughter all day.

     “Oh man, Jeongguk… really?” Jimin moaned when Jeongguk parked at the exact same spot during their first visit to the convenience store.

 “I don’t wanna be thrown to jail when they find us.”

 “Okay, fine,” Jimin huffed, uncrossing his arms rather petulantly. “But I’m not gonna pay.”

 Jeongguk was grateful that they were not going to prison despite having to listen to the manager yelling at the both of them. While Jeongguk had his hung down in remorse, Jimin only stared at the man, as if to challenge him to yell even louder. Despite profusely bowing and apologizing, the manager still threatened to call the police on them – a proof that the cashier last night did not manage to get Jeongguk’s plate license and the cameras outside were, indeed, not working.

 Jeongguk paid for – according to the manager – the “damage” they have caused, although nothing was broken at all. Jeongguk was certain that he had paid for more than he had stolen, but the only thing running in his mind was to get out of there quick.

 “God, you’re such a sweet kid, you know that?” Jimin grumbled, the words coming out of his mouth was dripping with venom, as if being a sweet kid was a crime.

 Jeongguk only shrugged nonchalantly at the compliment though the reddening of the tips of his ears contradict his attitude.

 “At least, we won’t be fugitives for stealing chocolate sticks.”

 At his comment, Jimin laughed.

      “So, this is it, huh?”

 Even without looking at Jimin, Jeongguk could hear the smile in his voice.

 The sky was filled with soft lilac and coral hues as the sun was approaching the horizon. The colour of the ocean reminded Jeongguk of a painting; the tangerine was so vibrant, he could almost taste the sweetness.

 They were back at their town, stopping at the beach to mark the end of their little adventure. Jeongguk was against standing on top of cars, but he made an exception this time. The both of them had their butts on the hood of the truck; Jeongguk’s legs were dangling while Jimin pulled his knees to his chest.

 “This is it,” Jeongguk echoed back, hissing internally at how brittle his voice was. “But, hey, we can still be friends, can’t we?”

 “’Course we can, darlin’,” Jimin chuckled.

 Jeongguk smiled.

 “Might be awhile ‘til we see each other again, though.”

 Jeongguk would be lying if he said he did not feel a pang in his chest. “What do you mean?”

 Looking at Jimin’s sideway during the sunset made his heart felt as if he was going on a rollercoaster ride; the way his lips pouted, the way the peach glow of the setting sun spilled across his feature, almost matching with the colour of his hair and how his eyes softened as they were fixed on the sky. Jeongguk would describe it as a spiritual experiment, though one could argue he was merely exaggerating.

 “I’ll be away for a while. Studying abroad for a year for my next semester. I had to…” Jimin swallowed. “I had to choose somewhere far from here.”

 Realization dawned on him that they did not know each other that well. Yeah, they shared stories and secrets, but what did he really know about Jimin?

 “Oh.”

 Jeongguk stopped moving his legs, his arms rigid next to him as he clutched on the edge of the truck’s hood and his lips were pressed tight.

 They were not aware of it, but they were thinking of the same thing; that their adventure would just be a memory to both of them, that it was not certain if they could even be in each other’s presence after it ended.

 Would Jeongguk have invited Jimin, wasted his time with a stranger, if he had known they were not going to be meeting each other again?

 Would Jimin even talk to Jeongguk, consider to befriend Jeongguk, if they had never gone on their adventure?

 Would they even remember each other after today?

 If Jeongguk could frame and relive a memory, it would be this one. Just them sitting in silence, admiring the sunset across of them. For now, he let himself believe that the sun would not approach its resting place. For now, he let himself believe that there was only the both of them in this world; it was them against the cruel universe.

      He was met with angry stare and a scolding of a lifetime when he arrived back home. Never in his life he would ever think he would get yelled at twice in the same day, but there he was, cowering with his head low while his mother’s voice raised by the second. His father only shook his head, his loud ‘tsk’-ed ringing inside Jeongguk’s ears. Though, he felt a wee bit thankful to his father for his futile attempt to calm his mother.

 The bucket list cost him five months of being grounded, with the addition of his keys being taken from him. It also meant that he was not allowed to ride with his friends, making him the loser of the group whom still had his mother driving him to the university.

 He entered the university on the same semester when Jimin was sent abroad. Jimin was not lying when he said he was a model student, when Jeongguk saw a few of photos of him holding gold medals in last year’s photobook.

 After months of being grounded, the first place he drove to was the beach. Watching the sunset disappearing from the horizon brought back memories of Jimin, memories he found himself not being able to let go. He was on top of the hood of the truck that was finally his, witnessing how the colour of the sky was changing, never constant, and despite the solitude, he had never felt more comfortable alone.

 He was still working at the jeans store, though only part time as he was finally in university.

 During the summer, however, he decided to take the full-time shift, not wanting to be cooped all day inside his house. He was folding the jeans, muttering to himself at how some customers were being irresponsible for not putting back the jeans where it was, when he heard the bell chimed.

 What followed next was a familiar saccharine voice. “Excuse me?”

 Jeongguk froze in his spot, wondering whether if his ears were defying him. A part of him was convinced that he was wrong, not amused at himself for not being able to let a one-year-old memory go while a bigger part of him just knew that he was right, that he could still recognize that voice anywhere.

 When Jeongguk faced the owner of the voice, his bubblegum hair was coloured black; the contrast made his skin paler than he remembered and cheeks still rosy as ever. Jimin’s lips stretched into a grin at the sight of Jeongguk’s eyes widening, and Jeongguk could see the sparkles in Jimin’s eyes, still brighter than the stars in the night sky.

 “I’m looking for a companion for an adventure tonight,” he said, and Jeongguk felt laughter bubbling in his chest, making his way to his throat at the memories that were flooding back like tidal waves. “You’re welcome to join me if you’d like.”

 Jeongguk let out a laugh; airy and soft. He was mortified at how he had invited Jimin a year ago, but the mortification was overshadowed by happiness that were engulfing his heart, threatening to squeeze it until it explodes.

 Somewhere at the back of his consciousness, Jeongguk understood what a sight he was making now. He could not contain the excitement he was feeling, and he could only hope that Jimin could not hear how loud his heart was beating right now. Jimin’s smile only grew more pronounced, but at the same time remain just as affectionate.

 “It would be my pleasure, Jimin-ssi.”

[a-solitary-marshmallow]

Please Don’t See Me - Chapter 8

Ford tried to run, but he was backed up against prickly bushes and lost his footing. He crashed back into the undergrowth, narrowly avoiding dashing his head on a boulder. Prickly bushes caught at his clothes and raked down his skin, catching him tight as he tried and failed desperately to scramble away from the hulking creature that was barreling towards him.

From the concave face profile and jutting jaws, the coin-shaped black button nose, and the short, rounded ears, it was definitely a bear; or it might have been once. The hump of its shoulders identifying it as a grizzly had swollen into a hunched back. The raggedy clumps of fur hanging from its oversized body, patches of crusty yellow skin and bloated proportions didn’t contribute much to the grizzly bear look. Those massive claws, thick and cruelly hooked like scythes, dug into the dirt beneath it. Overgrown, even for an animal of its size. They sunk into the ground and slashed up roots. The oozing slices on its legs would imply that those claws were clumsy and very, very sharp.

(Considering that grizzly bears had reportedly been killed off in Oregon this creature was more likely to have once been a black bear, but its physique would beg to differ. Its anatomy was more grizzly-based than anything. Then again this was a town in which gnomes stealing one’s garbage was a common annoyance, so perhaps the statistics of bear sightings bore little importance here. He would have to ask the fairies and other supernatural residents of gravity falls if they’d seen many bears around.)

And then Ford had no more time to think, because the creature lunged for his face. He screeched and flung up his arms in defense – its jaws snapped shut around his forearm and Ford was suddenly very grateful for the thickness of his jacket that kept the fangs from digging in too deep. He tried to pry open its jaws with his free hand.

The bear thrashed its head back and forth, savagely tearing Ford’s arm around like it wanted to rip it out of its socket. Ford yelled as he was yanked from the clutches of the bushes and thrown about like a rag doll. Fangs dug into his arm and something hot soaked into his sleeve but he couldn’t feel any pain, just the terror and adrenaline pouring through his body. He aimed a kick and hit something solid.

The monstrous bear let out a strangled yelp and its jaws loosened, sending Ford skidding across the torn-up ground. He dug his fingers into dirt and tried to scramble to his feet, to run, but the creature was already bunching itself up to charge. Ford’s hand closed around a fist-sized rock.

With a bound Rebus was there, skidding over churned-up ground to crouch over Ford, torn and bloody with his lips peeled back to show red-stained teeth. A rumbling growl swelled from his chest as he glared over Ford’s head, shoulders hunched and ears flattened.

The bear charged.

(Grizzly bears can run at up to 35 kilometers an hour, easily faster than humans-)

Rebus shot forward and tackled the bear head-on with enough force to shove it to a stop. The bear roared as he snapped at its face and throat, claws raking its hide. It shook him off and lunged at him.

Rebus yet out a yelp as the bear sank its teeth and nails into his skin, shoving him into the dirt. He twisted and scrabbled uselessly at its shoulders. The bear would not be derailed. It bit down harder.

Rebus slashed it across the eye.

The bear roared in agony and smacked him away with a huge paw, sending the wolf skidding. Rebus tried to get to his feet but the bear slammed into him with the force of a truck. This time when Rebus was tossed across the ground he seemed to be getting… smaller? Ford screamed his name.

The bear’s gaze snapped to him. Ford clutched his rock (knife, where was his knife?) as it huffed and barked at him. He risked a glance at the nearest tree. Bears were fast but clumsy, maybe he could gain ground in the thick forest. The animal itself kneaded and stomped at the torn-up ground.

Ford took a step back and it broke into a thundering run towards him.

“GET AWAY FROM HIM!”

A shape slammed into the bear with enough force to knock it off course, sending them both tumbling. A human shape in a raggedy red jacket. The bear’s jaws snapped down on the man’s arm and he screamed and punched it repeatedly in the face. Ford charged forward to bring down his rock on the bear’s head.

It thunked off like the creature’s skull was made of bricks, but it did manage to startle it long enough for the man to tear free and yank Ford away from the bear’s slashing claws. They tumbled to the ground together, the other man pulling Ford protectively behind him.

For just a split second, Ford caught a glimpse of a very familiar face. Then Stanley Filbrick Pines threw himself back at the bear.

But it was Rebus who made contact. Ford scrambled back from the thrashing creatures, ears roaring. The bear slammed Rebus (Stan?) into the ground and tore at his back. Rebus twisted around and latched onto its front. The bear bellowed and staggered back but this time Rebus would not be removed. He ripped his head back and took the bear’s throat with him.

Blood sprayed and the creature let out a gurgling groan. Rebus kept tearing at its throat as it sunk heavily to the ground like two tonnes of dead weight.

Emphasis on dead. The blood was no longer spurting but oozing down its coat, staining the ground beneath it.

Ford staggered to his feet, gasping for breath. “R-Rebus!”

The wolf slithered from the bear’s corpse, stumbled and hit the ground. Before Ford could rush to him Rebus was melting away; his form shrinking and white hands digging into the ground to push himself up. Stanley (older than Ford had last seen him, with longer hair and a haunted look in his eyes and far, far bloodier) staggered forward.

“Stanley?”

“Are ya hurt? Did it getcha?” Stan gasped, grabbing Ford’s face and turning it every which way to search for injuries. Injuries. Ford could be confused and terrified later. Right now his brother was bleeding out in front of him and he had to think.

“Stan. Stan!” Ford grabbed his twin’s hands off his face and wrenched them down. They were caked in blood. Whose blood, Ford didn’t know. “Stop moving! You’re bleeding, you’ll only make it worse.”

“Who fucking cares?” Stan spat. There was a wild look in his eyes even as he swayed on his feet. Now Ford had a moment to assess the injuries, and… he wanted to throw up.

Deep slashes raked down Stan’s torso, shredding his jacket and staining it black with blood. His head was bleeding heavily from some wound hidden in his hair, but even worse was his arm – a chunk of the bicep had been torn out and exposed flesh gleamed. In spots on his shoulder and back the skin had been ripped down to the bones.

“We have to get you to a hospital.” Ford tried to keep his voice level. Stan shook his head frantically.

“No – no no no hospital, I’m fine, I don’t need a hospital.”

“For god’s sake Stanley-”

Stan flinched back at the shout, and then at Ford’s reaching hands. He wrenched himself back with a hiss and staggered on shaky legs.

“Don’t touch me.” Stan’s voice deeper than it should have been, throaty and distorted. His eyes flashed with panic like that of a cornered animal. Oh, curse it all! Stanley was hurt and probably rather disorientated from adrenaline and blood loss. Disorientated animals had a nasty habit of lashing out.

Ford held out his hands. “Wait! I’m just-”

“No. You – you stay the fuck away from me.” Ford tried to step forward and Stan growled at him, a sound that humans shouldn’t be able to make. If he still had fur it would have been bristling. Ford pulled in a shaky breath and tried to compose himself.

“Stan – Rebus – whoever you are – I know you’re hurt, and angry, and you feel attacked. But I need you to trust me. I’m trying to help you.”

Stan growled again, but this time it was weaker, more uncertain. Ford held his hands out to show that he was unarmed.

“Please.”

Maybe it was the severe blood loss, but Ford liked to think it was his own sincerity that finally caused Stan to cave. His brother nodded tightly and allowed Ford to rush forward. Ford shucked off his jacket and pressed it to Stan’s arm, wincing at the pained hiss the touch incited.

“Come on. We can sort this out later. First I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“M’fine.” Stan grumbled. It was rougher than Ford remembered, more reminiscent of a canine rumble than was comfortable.

Canine. Wolf but not. Rebus – Stan? – Rebus?

Ford shook his head quickly to clear it. Those were thoughts for later. He slipped an arm around his brother’s shoulder to support him as they limped out of the forest.

[inkphilosopher]

Misconception

request: Can you write about reader being a popular girl who everyone likes and Peter thinks she's stuck up and she likes peter but he likes Liz which is readers friend but he realizes he's into reader?

word count: 913

a/n: so it’s been a hot sec, but infinity war (no spoilers in this one. promise) made me simultaneously want to throw myself off a cliff but also write so here we are. also rip i got this request actually forever ago and i just want to apologize for not writing it. the writer’s block has been real, man. anyways, on with the fic i guess. i hope this is okay for not writing for 29245098245 months.

The gates to Midtown Tech flew open as the final bell of the day rang, signaling the weekend had begun and students flooded their way out of the complex. You, being no different, begin your trek down the street to your apartment where your warm and inviting bed was calling your name.

However, the world seemed to have slightly different plans as you felt the first few drops of the oncoming rainstorm that was approaching in haste. Soon the light rain turned into a cloudburst of water. Lightning cracked in the distance, sending thunder rolling your way.

Grabbing the hood of your sweatshirt, you yank it over your head before dashing off into the nearest shop to seek shelter.

The bell lets out a jingle as you opened the door, dashing inside. Before you look at where you stepped into, you pull your hood off your head and run your fingers through your hair, shaking out the raindrops that had caught your hair before you had thrown your hood up.

Pulling your head up to inspect your surroundings, you come to see none other than Peter Parker standing at the end of the counter, scratching the back of a cat. The nerves that ran through your body as you caught sight of him was almost enough to send you straight back out into the onslaught of rain, but a voice called out to you that gave your position away.

“Welcome to Delmar’s Deli-Grocery. Can I getcha anything today?” A man asks.

Surveying your surroundings, your eyes land on a bottle of water. You grab it out of the glass-door refrigerator and set it on the countertop in front of the man.

“Just this for me, please. Thank you.” You respond, catching Peter’s eye for a moment. It sounded like he let out a small huff before turning his eyes back to the cat.

Your heart sank a little. You weren’t really sure what you did to make Peter not dislike you. It didn’t help that he was practically in love with your best friend, Liz.

“That’ll be 1.99,” The man behind the register said, snapping you out of your thoughts. You dig the money out from your wallet and hand it to him. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” You said, picking the bottle back up.

The man handed Peter a sandwich as he looked to you. “Thanks, Mr. Delmar.”

“Anytime, Peter.” Mr. Delmar responded.

You walk a couple of steps toward Peter. “Hey, Peter, how’s it going?”

He looks to you before looking back at the cat. “It’s been okay, you?” It didn’t sound like he wanted to talk to you particularly, but he was far too nice to say anything different.

“Alright, it’s raining pretty hard though. My parents are probably wondering where I am.” You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Who’s this?” You ask, turning to the cat Peter was still petting. You look to Peter, hesitantly holding out your hand to the cat, letting it come to you. It did and you stroked it’s head slowly.

“His name is Murph. He doesn’t do a whole lot but sit here and watch the store.”

You smile but it slowly fades as a question comes into your mind. “Peter, I, uh, have a question.”

He turns his head back to you, signaling for you to continue. His eyes meet yours and the nerves come racing back, but you ask anyway. 

“Why don’t you like me? I mean, you avoid conversation with me at all costs and you seem to dread whenever I walk in the room.”

Your question seemed to knock Peter off guard for a moment.

“I, uh... I really don’t know.” He turned completely to face you. “Maybe it’s the people you hang around? I- I don’t- I’m sorry, (Y/N), I don’t mean to be-”

You shake your head. “It’s okay, Peter. I should go.”

Giving a sad smile to Mr. Delmar, you leave the shop, facing the rain.

“Ahh, thanks, (Y/N)! You’re a lifesaver!” A kid from your biology class exclaims after you help him out with a problem from the assigned worksheet, dashing off down the hallway.

You smile before turning back to your locker, shoving your jacket inside before you hear a throat clear beside you. Closing your locker, you’re surprised as you see Peter standing there.

“Peter, really, I said it’s oka-”

“(Y/N),” He cuts you off, a pleading look in his eye. “I don’t hate you. You just... For the longest time, I liked Liz. It- But you came along and changed that. I started finding myself staring at you during class - no that sounds weird. I just, everything changed and I...”

You let out a breath, a smile tugging at your lips. “You don’t hate me?”

Peter shakes his head vigorously. “Oh! God no, (Y/N), that’s not it at all.”

Grabbing onto your backpack straps, you look into his eyes. “And if I was maybe wondering if you wanted to come help me study, say, tonight at the library? 5:00?”

A smile broke out on Peter’s face. “I would have to- I would say yes!” Peter said excitedly before clearing his throat and leaning against the locker. “I- I mean, yeah, that sounds cool. I’ll be there.”

Laughing you start walking to your next class, leaving a slightly stunned Peter Parker. “It’s a date, Parker.”

gahh thanks for reading!

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

TF2 Sniper & Scout Headcanon

For @camiluna27​

- - -

This whole thing sucked.

Sure, once you got used to dying a dozen times a day, sometimes in bizzarre and awful, fire-related ways, it became your new normal.

But taking serious damage without access to the doc, or a healthpack, really just sucked. He honestly would prefer death, it'd be faster.

First freaking BLU Demo had caught his sideon with a stickybomb trap, and then the bastard BLU Sniper decided to take a potshot at the runner as he soared through the air.

All he knew for certain right now was that he was definitely hit somewhere vital, there was dirt mixing with the blood in his mouth, and he was going to kill that lanky fucker .

But then... why hasn't the man finished RED Scout off, already? Did Spy get him? Did he not see Scout as a threat? Were the others occupying him or... or was Scout just not worth the effort to kill?

Wiggling a bit, small movements, he managed to get a hand up to his headset. "H-hey, Doc, you there?"

There was static a moment before he got a faint, "...kzktshhhh... -usy at zhe moment, Scout, vhat is zhe matter?"

"Nnnn... not sure, BLU Sniper got me and I can't move?" he knew he sounded ridiculous, nearing incredulous, but the doctor hums back.

"Vhere are-... oh, oh I see you, Hase. Heavy get down!"

There was a loud crack as a sniper rifle went off, echoing loudly around the battlefield. It was closer to their spawn, than the BLUs, but the batltle was on the next control point; looked like the Sniper was just camping them.

"Ach! I am sorry Scout, ve cannot get to you... he is using you as bait, und I do not have zhe crusader's crossbow vith me today." There was a pause, "Und I am only at 67% ubercharge, or ve vould vait to rescue you. I am sorry."

Three seconds of frustration and despair later, Scout responded, "Y-yeah, 'sfine... just go before the bastard gets you too."

And then he's left with nothing but silence. Well, silence and the sound of RED's rocket-jumping soldier shooting overhead... and being shot down. Somewhere in the distance a sentry was going at full speed trying to dissuade the BLUs from taking one of the only two points RED had captured.

He jerks a bit, from his almost-doze, at the realisation someone else was talking to him.

"...-oi, mate, c'mon answer me."

Sniper. Well, fuck, this was equal parts great and awful...

"Here... Snipes."

"Right, good... look, the other sniper's got you pinned down as bait, but I'm going to come round the building to your left and take him out... don't give it away, and try to hand on 'til I can getcha, mate."

Oh thank fuck.

True to his word, he vaguely sees a fleeting dash of RED uniform to his left,  before there's a crack. For a long second, Scout's almost sure that BLU got his opposite, anyway... but then, there's a thud to his right. Signalling the BLU sniper had just vacated his little camping-nest... by way of a speedy bullet to the brain.

"G-great shot there, Snipes!" he grins, as a body moves towards him.

Sniper kneels by him, "Alright, don't look great but the only healthpack near us was a little one... so it'll have to do 'til we can find Doc'n'Heavy or a bigger one..." the Aussie runs a critical eye over the other, before handing over the kit, "Might just take you back to spawn, actually. Y'look like shit, mate."

Scout can feel the kit dissolve and administer the limited degree of healing it had stored. Never understood them, but then, he still didn't get the medigun at all and he'd let medic put a fucking metallic thing on his heart... so he could do blind trust if he had to, regarding their current mode of healthcare.

He wasn't healed, but he sure didn't feel quite so close to death anymore.

"C'mon, up you get, kid." Sniper says, grabbing him by the arm and helping the runner wobble upright. And doesn't that make Scout feel utterly fucking ridiculous?

Why did it have to be Snipes?

"Well, you can try to be macho and get to the next pack yourself, or you can accept my help." Sniper adds, misinterpreting why the runner is arching away from his offer of support. "Just lean on me, mate, ain't nothing unmanly about getting help when you need it, yeah?"

"...fine." Scout says, going with that explanation because it was less embarrassing than blurting the truth of the matter. Something he definitely would not have done under normal circumstances; even if the team were cool with Heavy and Medic doing their thing.

"Last I checked, there was another little one somewhere near here..." Sniper mutters, he's got an arm looped around the stumbling runner, and his kukri out in the other. Always be Prepared.

"Negatory maggot, I saw Demo use it just a moment ago, get your asses to basecamp for healing!" shouts Soldier, appearing from the direction of the battlefield. He looked pretty beaten up, and also in search of a healthkit.

"Medic got an ubercharge going?" Snipes asked, wondering why the guy hadn't been healed by their battle medic.

"Double negatory, the very american medical man has been taken down by these cowardly BLU bastards and must be retrieved from basecamp!" Solly shouts, reporting the situation smartly, if a tad confusingly.

There's a second where no one is sure where to go with that, then the military man lifts up his helmet a bit. "God god, son, what the hell happened to you out there in the trenches?"

"...BLU Sniper was being a dick..." Scout mumbles, wishing the guy could just pitch in, or fuck off. He was starting to feel awful again, all this stalling.

"Allow me to assist you, Private. What kind of commander would I be if I did not take my privates in hand, when necessary?" Soldier shouts.

And Scout starts to laugh.

Sniper covers immediately with, "Er, he's in shock, he's not laughing at your or your... privates, mate."

"Good. Let us proceed! Forward march!" Soldier crows, striding over to them and making a show of moving to Scout's other side.

And that's when he realises, with a sick shock of cold fear shooting up his spine... that Scout saw Soldier get taken down by the BLU Sniper a bit back, but not long enough ago for the guy to respawn.

"Sp-..." he shouts in alarm, as the tell-tale sound of a Spy's disguise breaking zips through the air. He shoves at Sniper, Sniper shoves at him; Scout hits the floor as the sharpshooter whirls about to confront the BLU Spy.

"Fuck!" Snipes cries, as the intended backstab becomes a large slash across his ribs. But he lived, and was already swinging the kukri round before the other man could catch up to the situation, mentally, and cloak away.

Scout tries to shove upright, but it's not easy. So he does the next best thing, and rummages through the pockets he can reach for... yeah, there it is.

His aim ain't great, considering... everything. But he does manage to soak at least some of the spy in mad milk... which gives them an advantage.

"You little animal..." scowls the masked man, clearly under the impression it was something far worse than just BONK-infused milk that he accidentally left in the sun too long.

But Sniper's kukri keeps the guy at bay, rather well. Until it doesn't. Spy feints to the right, before side-stepping and catching Sniper on his left, a glancing blow to the temple that disoriented enough for the BLU to get a second slice in.

"How dare ya, ya bastard!" Scout shouts, feeling a surge of something like anger and energy combined. Some unholy fusion that let him get up, and start running, before it even really registered.

He body-checks the Spy, swinging wildly and feeling most connect somewhere. The man defends himself, with hand and knife, but Scout's just about dead himself and it's hard to focus on anything but how pissed off he was. Fucking spies. Always skulking about, takin' you out dishonestly. Face down your opponent,  don't be a coward and get 'em from behind. That's what Ma always said.

"Mate, duck." came the calm direction from Snipes, and Scout jerked to the side, collapsing in the dust as the sharpshooter put a bullet through the opposing Spy's brain.

"Ain't so clever now, are ya, Spook?" he mumbles at the corpse beside him. Then he realises that at least one of his limbs has gone numb, which usually means

he's not going to make it, anytime soon. "Aw fuck... Snipes can ya... uh, can ya shoot me? Unless you always h-had a secret fantasy of carryin' me bridal style inta spawn... that is. 'Cause I won't take that from ya, if-..."

"Aw shut up ya little mongrel," Sniper grins tightly. "Are ya sure, though? We could maybe make it now the Spook's down?"

"M-might as well. F-fastest way for both of us to get back into b-battle... yeah?" Scout assures, letting his head drop back onto the ground in a halo of dust.

"Well," Snipes responds after a moment, cocking the rifle, "if you're sure... just shut your eyes, don't feel right to kill ya if you're looking at me like some dewy-eyed little bilby..."

Scout complied, then frowned. "Hey, dontcha call me a freaking bilb-..."

Crack.

Nothingness was instantaneous. The absence of pain or any other physical sensation, was at once great and real fucking bizarre.  Respawn was like nothing words could describe.

Felt like forever, or a few seconds, and then you were suddenly there on the floor of Respawn, whole and feeling great. It had not been something they'd gotten used to, exactly, and some had come out screaming the first dozen times... but it was normal enough, now, that they could fight without fear.

"Rise, maggot, we must go and assist our unit in the battle for Point B of the objective!" Soldier informs him, helpfully tugging him upright.

"Wait, I thoughtcha would already be there, didn't you respawn like five minutes ago or something?" Scout frowns, thinking back over the sequence of events.

"Correct, private. But there was a TRAITOR lurking near the door that I was unable to detect until the last moment..." admits the man, looking a little chagrined at the whole affair.

Scout claps him on the back, "Hey, fair enough, we killed him like a minute ago or whatever..."

"Good job, Private. Now come along, we have a battle to win!" Soldier says, tossing the surprised Scout over his free shoulder, marching outside, and rocket-jumping them both onto the battlefront.

Afterwards, the rest of the team would recall the sight with amused smiles on their faces.

- - -

Ultimately, they did lose the match, but it was a fierce back and forth that had both sides on edge. Giving their all, fighting tooth and nail for control of each point. Ceding only when everyone defending was dead.

They'd get an enthusiasm bonus for today, that was for damn sure.

-

When the workday was over, both sides take a chance to relax; or commiserate their failures, depending on how things had gone. RED team wasn't all that bothered, honestly, they had done well even if they lost.

There was always tomorrow.

Soldier had given out medals (bottlecaps and ribbons, but the thought counted) to the team with 'commendations' for 'meritorious service'. Contrary to his BLU counterpart, the RED loved to let everyone know when he saw they'd done a good job.

Scout got two. One for the battle, and one for 'dispatching a traitor'; Snipes also got an additional one. Clearly, Soldier was going to target BLU Spy for the next week, until he felt he'd achieved revenge.

He didn't usually get backstabbed, with all the rocket-jumping, but he couldn't stand cowards who struck from behind. BLU Spy was a dead man walking.

-

"Hey kid..."

Scout startles a bit, then tries his best to look like he totally hadn't been caught off-guard. Though now one of his sketches had a huge line through it. At least it was in pencil...

It's Sniper. They didn't usually interact all that much, in the free time before and after dinner; the dude liked solitude, or spent time with Demo and Engie. Sometimes Medic and Heavy, if they weren't busy.

...or menaced their own team's Spy with his jarate jars, for the hell of it. Scout loved that. The Frenchman always looked so offended at the mere concept...

He blinks, realising Snipes was just standing right next to him, waiting for some degree of acknowledgement.

"Oh, er, hey... what's up?"

Sniper shuffles a tad awkwardly. "Are you... doing good, mate?"

"Doing goo-...? Oh, yeah, no I'm fine! Thanks for the mercy-kill and all today, Snipes." he assures.

"Alright then, just wanted to make sure ya not gonna jump everytime you see me cleaning my gun..." the aussie sighs, relaxing.

"Well, I mean, between Solly 'handling his privates' and you 'cleaning ya gun', there ain't much on this base I haven't seen... or could scare me." Scout grins back.

Sniper cuffs him lightly about the ear, "You little wanker, 'snot what I meant."

"Well, wanking was part of the proble-mmmph?" Scout's smart retort was covered by a gloved hand.

"That's about enough outta you. Now are ya gonna show me what you're drawing, or am I gonna have to take this beer back inside with me...?" Sniper asked.

Scout perks up immediately. The drinking age around here was 21, but none of his damn teammates would let up on how he was 'too young to be drinking'... even though Scout was 23. It ticked him off no end, and he knew that's why they did it... or well, most of them. He thinks Demo is sincerely trying to keep him from becoming an alcoholic or something.

Getting his hands on something even vaguely beer-like was a pain, especially under the hawkeyed-supervision of Engie and Medic (and Demo).

He hands over the sketchpad immediately, taking the bottle in return. "Nothing fancy, just stuff around here, some of the others, that owl of yours... was sitting on the fence a minute ago."

"They're good," Sniper says, flipping through and pausing, "but I think I like this one most."

Scout nearly chokes, as he realises Sniper's found the one he drew in a hurry (then carefully lined) of a time the Aussie was randomly napping in a tree near base. Actually, it was for the best he had his new sketchpad, the other one was full of the lanky sharpshooter in all the various ridiculous places and positions he fell asleep.

"What can I say, ya make an interesting study in posture when you're asleep, Snipes. Like the time ya napped in the pantry, and scared the crap outta Engie..." he explains, trying to act like he definitely didn't nearly die from being caught out.

"Oh... that'll explain why you're always lookin' at me, then, Bilby." Sniper agrees. Turning to face the runner with a knowing grin, "You think  I wouldn't notice? Got eyes like a hawk, mate, and observation's something I do well..."

His mind in complete, and uncharacteristic panic mode, Scout blurts out, "Er, I... for art. Staring at you for art. Thanks for the beer. Going now."

The runner takes off with a beer in one hand and an embarrassed flash across his cheeks; completely forgetting he's left the incriminating sketchbook with the person he was trying to conceal it with.

Sniper lets out an amused huff, watching the younger mercenary disappear into the night. He'd realise he had to come back, in about a minute or so; nothing out on the field at night except mess and unexploded stickies.

Interesting, though... to find out that the kid'd been watching him right back. Maybe the clue he'd given the runner  wasn't as wasn't as obvious as the sharpshooter thought.

Still, Scout was smart enough, he'd either figure it out... or get halfway across the map, realise Snipes had called him Bilby again, and come racing back to argue the nickname.

Sniper settled down to wait for the return... passing the time by going over the artwork with a critical eye. It was pretty damn good, really. Hard to see why Scout hadn't taken it further, really... maybe it had to do with finances or attitudes; when you had eight siblings it probably wasn't even an option, college that is.

His thoughts are cut off by the telltale rapid footsteps that meant Scout was returning.

Lo and behold, the runner skids to a stop in front of him, a little sweaty but not out of breath (and god does Sniper envy that energy, he'd had to run from a Pyro the other day up several flights of stairs, and it'd winded him).

"Why the heck do you keep calling me 'bilby', Snipes?! I gotta a real name and a class name, but you've called me dat like three time today..." questions the runner, taking a step back when Sniper stands up again.

"Why? 'coz you're small and cute, and bloody hard to catch." Sniper answers without hesitation.

And he sees the moment it sinks in, because Scout goes bright red, and splutters trying to think of an appropriate response, but failing.

He takes a step forwards, and when the other doesn't run off, he takes another... before slinging a companionable arm around Scout's shoulders.

"She'll be right, mate, c'mon... I noticed you noticing me, but it don't have to mean anything if you don't want it to, alright?"

"O...okay..."

"Ain't mad or nothing, surprised a bit... I mean, have you seen Demo shirtless? Thought you'd prefer that sort... but, everyone's different..." he's prodding the kid, trying to get a response, but it wasn't a lie. Most of the people on the team had impressive physiques, in their own right. Probably Pyro too, whatever they were.

Scout snorts, getting a lockdown on his emotions for the moment. "Er, yeah... I know, everybody showers together 'n'all, but apparently I've got weird taste or something..."

"...should I be offended?" Sniper asks, raising his eyebrows.

And Scout backpedals, "Shit, didn't mean that... but I mean like, when I look between you and Miss P, I can see things ya got in common that I find cute'n'all... and then it was like 'well fuck, I got a type'."

Sniper laughs, because yeah, he can see that. It's not hard to see it's something the runner's still coming to terms with.

"Salright mate, you got time to work it out... and no one here minds, whatever you realise or don't." he reassures, thinking about the whole Heavy & Medic situation from when they all started. Those two danced around each other for about five months before Soldier and Scout flat-out locked them in a room together and told them to 'just fucking tell him already you're killing us!'.

"Yeah?" Scout asks, seeking confirmation that this was okay.

"Yeah mate, all the time in the world." he smiles back. If the other ended up working out he liked him, or not, it was fine by the sharpshooter. He just liked having the runner around, injecting life and energy into everything he touched.

On the other hand, he couldn't resist a chance to take a dig at the kid. " 'Sides, it's gonna take me a while to get an outfit like Miss P's, all that purple fabric's probably a pain to get and-..."

He couldn't continue, considering he was laughing too hard at the semi-scandalised, slightly-excited, but mostly confused expression on Scout's face.

"Oh my god..." Scout breathes.

Sniper can't tell if that was a good exclamation or not, but he claps the other on the shoulder. "Alright mate, looks like you've had enough... by which I mean both the beer and minor existential crises, tonight... let's get you back to ya room."

Scout lets the Aussie lead him inside for a bit, effortlessly navigating the base without thought... before a devious response came to mind.

"...and do I get a goodnight kiss when we're there, or are ya gonna tuck me in and leave?" Scout says, shiteating grin plastered across his face from one ear to the other.

Somewhere nearby the eavesdropping spy nearly chokes on his wine.

Sniper actually stumbles, slightly blindsided. "Whoa, steady-on mate... we'll see when we get there, you little terror. Now behave, or I'll tell Engie you're drunk and propositioning people..."

"...yeah, but I'll tell him you gave it to me..." Scout adopted an oddly sing-song tone, "and you were gonna kiss me..."

Sniper knew that even in a world where he did tell Engie about this, the man would kill him at the vaguest insinuation of taking advantage of a drunken Scout. Which was, on one hand, a good protective measure for the impulsive brat... but on the other, he;d get his pay docked for an off-hours discharge and respawn.

"You keep it quiet and so will I, mate." Sniper murmured back as they passed the loungeroom full of the others.

"Deal..." Scout responded, smugly, like he'd won. And he didn't stop until he reached his quarters a few minutes later.

"Right, here's your sketchbook... might have flicked through it, but it's bloody good, mate."

"Aw, ain't that good, you should see my brother's stuff... he's the artist." Scout responds, looking sheepish.

And that explained a lot, it really did.

"Well, if he's half as nice to look at as you, maybe I will... but he's probably shit on the battlefield." Sniper jokes.

Scout laughs, "Yeah... he's a freaking architect or somethin', I was always fighting to keep people form pickin' on him. Even though it was probably supposed to be the other way 'round."

"Good practice for here, though. Would've been a bugger if you'd never come out here... what else am I supposed to look at, 'round here?" states the sharshooter, slyly, just to watch Scout flush.

Scout's getting fed up with his very-manly-blushing. Why does Sniper do this to him?

"Aw shut up, I know I'm great to look at but I try to dial it down so you all don't get distracted from work..." he responds, and then yawns almost comedicly wide. "Okay, I'm going to sleep now... but I ain't gonna forget this conversation in the morning, and we're gonna talk about it. The whole... y'know... thing."

"Or you could just come over to my camper after battle tomorrow, easier to talk about it without eavesdroppers'n'all... 'sides, you get a good view of the land and stars, from on top of the van, you can bring ya sketchpad."

Scout pauses, mid-stretch, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Is that a date you're askin' me on, Mr Sniper?"

"Only if you're brave enough to accept," goads Sniper back, equally mischievous.

"You're on, Snipes! See you then, or y'know, in battle before it... but I ain't gonna kiss ya when the BLUs are firin' at us." Scout states, darting forwards to peck Sniper on the cheek, grin, and then shut his door in the sharpshooter's face.

Sniper stands frozen for a second, processing.

Then Demo is there, slinging an arm around his shoulder. "Oh laddie, he's a firecracker this'll be fun tae watch. Engie'll break yer arse in two if ye break Scoutie's heart though, be careful there..."

Sniper's just trying to figure out how to respond, when Demo adds.

"Now what's all this about wanting tae see me with me shirt off? I'm flattered lad, but the boyo would be devastated if I seduced you away with me rippling muscles and kilt..."

The sharpshooter loses it, and there's an echoing ring of amused laughter coming from behind the Scout's bedroom door.

"Oh, aye wouldnae be laughing too hard, Scout... or should I tell Sniper here ye once asked me tae model with me kit off for ye?" Demo teases.

To which a choking sound could be heard through the door, and what sounded like, 'You wouldn't dare!'

Conspiratorially, the Scot leans over to Sniper and whispers, "Aye, he did too. But who can blame him... I'm bloody gorgeous!"

Scout's head shoots out of the doorway as Sniper is nodding in agreement. "Hey, getcha own Sniper, that one's mine!" At which point the runner realises what he said, flushes a very manly shade of pink, and disappears to a litany of muffled 'ohmygodwhydidisaythat?'

Demo claps Sniper on the back, "There ye go, lad... confirmation he likes ye."

Weakly, Sniper responds, "Regular old Cupid, aren'tcha, mate?"

The explosives expert beams, "Aye. Now let's get a drink to celebrate, and I'll shout ye one, since I just won a bet with Medic. He didnae think I could get ye two to admit ye liked one another... but I'm not an idiot."

Snipes isn't entirely sure how to feel about it, but he's mostly relieved Scout isn't freaking out. Well, anymore than the litany of 'ohmygod's would suggest.

"Yeah, sounds good. And Scout, I'll bring you a soda or something..." he calls through the door. Only for it to open, and then a pillow smacks the sharpshooter in the face.

Demo's cackling, "Oh, a right good start you two have gotten off to, haven't ye?"

Sniper laughs, "Seems like it's gonna be interesting, to say the least."

- - - -

END

- - - 

If it’s a tad disjointed, I blurted the concept in a Chat message and checking what you already wrote is a PAIN... but there you go. 

[redbootsthetimetraveller-archive]

Bea and I, With the Beatles Fanfiction Chapter 2

Same disclaimer as on the previous chapter.

About ten minutes later, this extraordinarily loud fart came from the back of the hall, halfway through the speech, and magnified because of the eerie quietness. It took two seconds for the entire hall to be laughing their socks off. There were even teachers trying to not die from not laughing up the front. The principal, though, was going a shade of purple with anger and embarrassment.

‘RIGHT! WHO WAS THAT?’ he yelled at the top of his voice, still going purple. The room fell dead silent, and I hid my book in case I was caught with it. Everyone was tense, and there was an air that we would be kept until someone owned up, and the person would not. But alas, a hand was held up, right at the back, and they immediately had every pair of eyes in the room upon them. ‘Jasper Kitchen. My office, at morning tea.’ Principal Summers snapped, and turned on his heel and walked back to the front. It seemed like every student wanted to burst into applause at that moment, but didn’t want trouble. Principal Summers went back to his dreary monologue.

‘He’s not in our year, is he?’ Paul whispered to me.

‘No, I think he’s a few grades below us or something. He’s no older than Arthur.’ I replied, also in whisper. Principal Summers finished his speech, and had still not turned back to a natural colour. A few announcements were made, and we were dismissed for first class. For Bea, Paul and I this was Geography, and for Ringo and John Mathematics, and George had English. We bid each other farewell until morning tea, and headed to different parts of the school. Rather than having Mr Putnam, we had a substitute called Miss Russel. She clearly didn’t know much more than us about it, and looking at her we could tell she was probably a sports teacher. She read out the roll and had trouble with my surname.

‘von Harreson… no that’s not right. Elizabeth von Ha…?’

‘It’s von Harrelson, Miss.’ I corrected her.

‘Rightcha.’ She said, and continued on with the roll. I began drawing in my book.

‘She might see that. She’s gonna be more observant than Mr Putnam.’ Bea said to me quietly, as she sat to the right of me. We had worked out how to write without bumping into each other; right-handed on the right, left on the left. And then switch hands when the teacher is looking, because if I don’t I’ll get the cane. Unfortunately, as I was pretending to write notes I didn’t notice that Miss Russel had turned around.

‘Miss von Harrelson, come up to the front please.’ She said while turning a page over. The room took a breath at that moment, and I paused before standing up and walking from the mid-back of the room to the teacher’s desk at the front. ‘Hold out your hand.’ I instinctively held out my right. ‘No not that one, the one you were using.’ She said, sounding slightly flustered. I did, and she hit me hard with the cane eight times. Eight has always been my unlucky number. I tried not to swear lest I get more caning.

‘Fuck she’s got a strong arm.’ I said quietly to Bea. ‘If she sees my handwriting she’d not be able to read it.’

‘Which hand?’

‘Either, they’re both illegible.’ I said slightly smirking. Class went on another long, boring fifteen minutes, and then we were released from that hell of a class. I grabbed out my morning tea of chocolate brownie, hiding my prized treat. It was the first thing I didn’t burn or undercook, which is why I don’t cook, but we needed morning tea this week and Amy was working. I put my coat on, and braved the cold with the gang.

‘Paul here says you got caned!’ Ringo said. ‘What for?’

‘Got caught writing.’ I replied.

‘I getcha. Bloody annoying, isn’t it? You two can’t help it.’ he said.

‘Hm.’ I replied, and tried to unwrap my brownie with my frozen fingers.

‘Hey, lemme help you with that.’ Paul said.

‘Err… thanks.’ I said, hoping he wouldn’t try and steal it.

‘Ah, lucky you!’ he said with a wink, handing it to me.

‘What’s she got?’ George asked. ‘Is that BROWNIE?!’ he exclaimed. George loves his food.

‘You’ve got brownie? You gotta share, man!’ John said.

‘No! My food!’ I said, trying to be serious, but failing and we all ended up wandering around the school. We were nearing the football pitch, and a few hardy souls were trying to have a match amongst the snowdrifts. Suddenly, one of them didn’t quite stop the ball and it came rolling towards us. I stopped it, and kicked it. It went quite far, but the goalie hadn’t really been paying attention and so didn’t realise until it was fractionally too late that the ball was actually going to go into the net. It hit the back net and bounced out again, and several people cheered, and I high-fived everyone. It was time to go back inside again, and the heaters barely heated the rooms, but we weren’t allowed to wear our coats. Bea and I had Sewing, my definitely least, and worst, subject. I would try and fix my gloves in this class, it wasn’t like I was going to finish the handkerchief set we’d been assigned to do anyway. That half hour dragged on for way too long, but it got slightly better because next we had English with Mr Wright, whose profession used to be an author until the war, but now he just settles on teaching English and making bad puns. His classes were always quite enjoyable, as the first twenty minutes were always reading, and the next forty minutes were usually interesting. He’s one of the more popular teachers. The next hour long class was Civics, which could be interesting but was generally boring. Once again, Paul was in our class for this. It was one of the ‘mildly interesting but boring’ lessons. As soon as we were released for lunch, we sprinted as fast as we could to put our stuff back and get in the queue for lunch. Fortunately, Paul, Bea and I got into line rather quickly, and got the measly ration of four fish fingers, fried bread, some chips and a bottle of orange juice, a rare luxury. We sat at our usual canteen table, waiting for the rest of the gang. George got in not too long after we sat down, and came to sit with us, but in silence as he was already eating. Ringo and John came rushing in two minutes later, and as they came over to sit down, Jasper Kitchen walked in, to immediate applause. John even went and patted him on the back. Turns out, he only got off with twenty cane lashes and extra homework for a week.

‘That’s not too bad for what he did, lucky bastard.’ John said as he sat down. ‘What’ve you got next?’

‘Well, it’s German for us, and then we all have Music until the end of the day.’ Bea said. ‘And I think George has Sport, and you?’

‘Well, I’ve got a free lesson, and I’m buggering off somewhere.’ John said. ‘But poor Ringo here has Science with Mr Gibbs!’ Mr Gibbs was this grumpy old shit of a teacher who was only still teaching because Principal Summers doesn’t want to lose his twin, or so the joke goes. We managed to get through our lessons, trying to work out how to swear in French (we’d already worked out German), or trying to work out how to get out of the class. One thirty came around, so Bea, Paul and I started running to Music, which is one of the only classes we ran to. Not many people were in the class, so the classes comprised of two grades. There was Bea, Paul, Ringo, George (who got special permission to join us, there weren’t enough in his grade), John and I, as well as Cyril Acker, in John and Ringo’s grade with Terry Garfield. In our year there was Belle Seward, Errol Hawkins, Graham Carpenter and Derrick Streets. Then the teacher, by far the best teacher in my opinion, and I guess the gang’s, and probably was the most qualified, Mr Eldridge. The class was in the new ‘Arts Wing’, which was much better than the shitty 1920’s classrooms of the ‘Academics Wing’ or the post-war slap-dash updating of the gym, and was actually not crap. Basically what happens in that class is we bugger around, doing stupid little songs and practicing for a gig or something, because we (I say we, because we sometimes go on stage with the boys and we’ve gone on one tour with them, over in Blackpool) were a band called the Silvers. It’s not the best name but it works.

‘So, what’s the lineup for Saturday?’ I asked, fiddling with my flute. The Silvers had scored a gig at the Cavern Club on my birthday.

‘So there’s a few songs…’ John showed me the list, as he was the band leader. He just was.

‘That’s not going to cover a night’s worth! You’ve gotta play for four hours!’ I exclaimed.

‘There’s one song we haven’t shown…’ Ringo started, but was glared at by George.

‘Y’know, if you’re short of songs, we could write some!’ Bea suggested.

‘That’s not a bad idea! Paul and I have already written some, so we’ve had experience, and you’re good at poetry, Lizzy, so it won’t be too much of a stretch for you, but I dunno about you guys though, just have a crack.’ John said, sounding slightly excited. ‘Use your books and rip it out later.’

We all sat with half the school’s guitars, three of them, and Ringo grabbed out his sticks, Paul tried to claim the piano but didn’t quite get it as Cyril Acker pushed him out of the way. John immediately began strumming away, George was experimenting with riffs and Paul began writing away. Bea also began busily scribbling. I put my pen to the paper, and soon started writing.

Some days, I hope to be far away.

Not right here or near, not today

If I stay here my mind might fray,

How I long not to stay.

‘That’s shit.’ I said to myself.