#i’m gonna take a page out of sour apples book and just

[elizakai]

have any of y’all tried drawing The Core before?

haha. don’t.

[oh-for-merlins-sake]

TRICK & TREAT | fw

a/n: okay, so i KNOW we’re not exactly in october yet, but spooky season is my FAVORITE season, and i couldn’t resist. if i could have an interminable spooky season every year, my heart would sing tbh. also, side note: thank you to those who have interacted with my previous fic, or who have followed me, or who have showed me any ounce of love at all. like, i’m just hear to party and obsess over the weasley twins in the midst of all of these stellar writers. i just hope to be up to par with them someday. CHEERS! xo

pairing: fred weasley x reader (fem!reader)

word count: 3k

warnings: swearing (fred’s a potty mouth, yeah?), gets a little steamy at the end but nothing heart-stopping.

┈┈┈┈

You looked up from your dreadfully long piece of parchment in the library to gaze longingly out of a nearby window. The leaves were finally an amalgamation of bright reds and oranges, and you could almost feel the autumn breeze on your fingertips. Fall was your favorite season, and not just cause it hosted your favorite holiday.

This year, however, Snape decided that he was in no such mood for the Halloween spirit. As a result, an exceptionally long essay on potion making was due bright and early Monday morning, despite the holiday falling on Saturday — today.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times to keep yourself awake, then resumed frantically scribbling on your parchment.

“And how long have you been at this, may I ask?”

You didn’t have to divert your gaze from the parchment to know exactly who was striding toward your table.

“In the middle of something, Freddie,” you mumbled.

“What, that dreadful essay for Snape?” He asked, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Yes,” you sighed, twirling your quill between your aching fingers.

“Oh, come off it — don’t let Snape ruin your Halloween. Put the quill down, and let’s get going,” he insisted, reaching for your quill.

You retracted your hand, raising your brows at him in response. “As if! I can’t fuck around, Fred. This is N.E.W.T. level Potions. He’ll toss me if I hand in anything less than exemplary.”

“The way I see it, Y/N,” he began, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet on the table, “The only reason Snape assigned this essay this weekend is because he’s a proper miserable prat. Just wants to ruin the fun for everyone, I reckon.”

You rolled your eyes, partially at Fred’s persistence, but also at Snape’s total arrogance.

“I propose that you put the quill down and come to the festival! C’mon, assigning an essay on Halloween weekend? Bloody mad, he is!”

You sighed again, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and weighing your options.

On the one hand, you needed to do well on this essay (not that you hadn’t been doing well in Snape’s class, but given that it was Snape, one minor error could be one too many).

But on the other hand, you’d probably plucked and polished as much cluttered information from your brain as you could; and there Fred sat, beckoning you with that cheeky grin and those sweet, brown eyes to go to the Hallowe’en Festival in Hogsmeade.

“I don’t have a costume,” you said with a frown.

“Not to worry, love!”

Fred lugged his book bag onto the table with a mischievous grin, rummaging around inside and extracting various crumpled pieces of parchment, empty sweet wrappers, and the occasional contraption. Finally, he chucked a muggle entertainment magazine onto the table that was dated 1989 and began flipping through its pages.

“Dad’s latest obsession are these muggle magazines, and I found this in one of them...”

He eagerly pointed to a spread that celebrated the 50th anniversary of The Wizard of Oz. You let out a rather loud laugh (to which Madam Pince responded by shushing you both).

“What?” He whispered, giggling and playfully shoving your arm.

“You want to go as characters from The Wizard of Oz?” You shook your head, smiling sweetly.

“So you’re familiar?” He beamed at you.

“Yes, Fred, as a muggle born, I’m quite familiar with one of the most famous muggle movies of all time,” you teased.

“So you’ll go as her then?” He asked, pointing to Dorothy.

“Me? Go as her?” You asked incredulously. “I don’t have anything that would work for that costume. And I’m not so sure that anyone would recognize me without — ”

“The rest of them? Don’t worry, love, thought of that too!”

“You just think of everything, don’t you?” You quipped, narrowing your eyes.

“You’re a fucking witch, Y/N. I’m sure you’ll conjure something up,” he reminded.

You opened your mouth to counter, but he swiftly interrupted, "And if you’re concerned with anyone recognizing you, well... you’re looking at none other than Scarecrow himself.” He straightened up and tugged at his collar, wiggling his eyebrows.

You laughed again. (“Shh!”)

Fred lowered his voice, “Listen, Georgie’s gonna be the Tin Man, and Gin’s borrowing Luna’s lion’s head for the other one,” he explained. “All we’re missing is Dorothy.”

“Oh, I see,” you said, returning to your parchment with a smirk, “You just need me to complete your costume, ay?”

Suddenly, Fred plucked his wand to summon your quill from your hand to his.

“Come to the Hallowe’en festival with me, Y/N,” he insisted, tossing your dainty quill from one immense hand to the other.

You paused, glaring at him, for he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

“Fine!”

Fred punched the air in celebration before tucking your quill behind his ear and moseying out of the library.

“You’ve got two hours, Y/L/N,” he called over his shoulder.

The instant he turned the corner, you stuffed your parchment into your bag and scampered towards your dormitory. Butterflies erupted in the pits of your stomach as you pondered the possibilities of the night to come, and you felt a slow burning warmth trickle from your cheeks to the tips of your toes.

Yes, you were relieved to elude Snape’s brutal homework for the night, but deeper within you resided the covert, overwhelming desire that drove your final decision to go. After a wearisome couple of hours brimful of several twirls in front of the mirror, you ultimately decided your haphazard costume would have to do.

You’d managed to procure a white dress and pair of heels from your wardrobe, enchanting the former to mock the pattern of Dorothy’s dress and the latter to radiate a shimmering ruby red. You straightened out the hem of your dress before skipping out into the entrance hall in search of Fred.

You weaved between clusters of costumed students, noting several muggle characters along the way, including an Ariel, a Marty McFly, and even a Ghostbuster. You spotted a straw-hat poking out from above the crowd and rushed over.

“Well, good evening, Mr. Scarecrow!” You exclaimed, tapping his shoulder.

He spun around. “Bloody hell, it’s Dorothy!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his costume, particularly the bright orange dot carefully painted on the tip of his nose. You appreciated the fact that faux freckles weren’t necessary for his costume, as his sweet speckles did the trick just fine. You were also fairly amused by George’s dingy, silver hat and Ginny’s small head being consumed by Luna’s lion contraption.

“Putting Dorothy to shame, I reckon,” Fred declared, winking down at you.

You were embarrassed at how quickly your cheeks turned color at the compliment.

The four of you nearly sprinted to Hogsmeade, bubbling over with excitement. All of Hogwarts had been feverishly babbling about the Hallowe’en Festival for weeks now, mostly because it served as an excuse to flee Umbridge’s reign of terror. When the announcement came that the shopkeepers of Hogsmeade would be hosting a festival for the students, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief that there was something outside of these walls that would provide a sense of warmth and security that had been missing as of late. It was refreshing, to say the least.

And hell, if it gave you an excuse to spend time with Fred, you surely weren’t complaining.

“Holy shit, Y/N!” Fred exclaimed, vigorously rocking you back and forth, “Bobbing for apples!”

You giggled and bounced along as he tugged you by the hand toward the festivities. George and Ginny followed suit, trailing behind with just enough space behind you and Fred.

Without hesitation, Fred sunk his head into a bucket of water in search of an apple and surprisingly succeeded on his first attempt. He resurfaced, teeth clenched around a scarlet apple, and winked at you before spitting it into his palm. You giggled at the orange paint on his nose; now smeared from the charade.

“Your turn,” he urged, taking a hearty bite from his reward.

Though you weren’t as quick at retrieving one as Fred had been, you eventually managed to reap a bright green apple from the pail. You kept the apple nicely snug between your teeth as you shook the water from your face with a laugh. You held the apple in your palm, turning it over in the moonlight, before taking a bite to indulge in its sweet and sour flavors.

Fred gently pushed back the wisps of hair that were now plastered to your forehead. You swallowed your bite and your staggering desire to taste him too.

“Shall we retrieve some sweets from Honeydukes, Freddie?” You blurted.

“‘Course,” He breathed, hand lingering on your forehead.

You quickly tossed the remnants of your apple in a nearby bin before skipping towards Honeydukes.  Fred scampered behind you, laughing at the way you kept balance in your heels.

“Quit laughing at me, Weasley!” You exclaimed, arms shot out on either side of you.

Fred caught up to you and clutched your waist, murmuring, “You can hold me for balance anytime, love.”

Your heart pounded as his fingers tightened their grip before dismissing the feeling with an eye roll and a playful slap to his chest.

The two of you approached Honeydukes, which was festively adorned with strings of misty orange lights and floating jack-o-lanterns. The shopkeeper was tossing free sweets for the taking, and while Fred was able to score some with ease due to his looming height, you had to jump just to try — even in your high heels.

Fred couldn’t help but grin as you grasped at nothing, clinging to his shoulder for balance.

“What are you reaching for, love?” He asked, gently bumping his hip into yours.

“I’m just — ” You hopped again. “Trying — to get — a bloody Sugar Quill!”

Within seconds, Fred effortlessly seized a Sugar Quill and tossed it down to you. You thanked him, beaming up at him as you ripped it open.

He proceeded to catch a few more sweets, including some Chocolate Cauldrons, Pumpkin Pasties, and enough Sugar Quills to tide you over until next Halloween. You both walked aimlessly through Hogsmeade, munching on your sweets and speculating on the whereabouts of the rest of your group. You’d both decided that you’d find them later before plopping down onto a bench to finish off the last of your goodies.

Full of sugar and glee, you almost didn’t notice that Fred’s thigh was in contact with yours — the realization knocking your breath off of its steady course.

You fiddled with a wrapper as you genuinely considered trailing your fingers across his chest and pressing your lips to his under the light of jack-o-lanterns and the smell of cinnamon. You genuinely considered sending him spiraling into oblivion, just as he’d done to you at nearly every interaction. Oh, to make him go weak in the knees for once.

“Fred — ”

Suddenly, a gaggle of first-years scrambled by as Malfoy and his minions hounded them for sweets. You both snapped your heads in their direction, perturbed by the disruption.

“What do you say we put the ‘trick’ in trick-or-treat?” Fred asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

So close.

After some deliberation of the proper way to exact justice, you and Fred decided to convince some first-years to toss a few Nosebleed Nougats into their bags of sweets. You made certain that they would not touch the Nougats themselves, but that they would instead offer them up to Malfoy when he came hunting for more.

You hurried back over to Fred, who was hiding behind a shop corner, and observed the hysterical events that transpired together. You stifled your laughter as Malfoy yanked the Nougats out of the sack and split them between himself and his mates. The first years scurried away, thankful to have evaded surrendering their sweets, as the prats chewed into their Nougats.

They tossed their wrappers onto the cobblestone and scouted the area for their next victims. They were abruptly interrupted by the blood gushing out of their noses, causing you and Fred to rush into Three Broomsticks in a fit of laughter. You peered out of the window and watched as Malfoy and his mates darted towards the castle, fists pressed against their noses.

“I can’t believe we got away with that,” you admitted breathlessly.

Fred high-fived you, hand squeezing yours, as he tried to catch his breath. He led you to an empty table near the fireplace before wandering off to obtain a couple of warm Butterbeers. You sat down and rubbed your hands together, feeling the cold slowly easing from your fingertips.

“You know what’s always bugged me,” Fred began, sliding your mug across the table and removing his hat.

“Hm?” You hummed, taking a sip.

He sat down and clutched his warm mug. “Why does it have to be trick or treat? Why not both? I mean, everyone loves a good trick, and everyone loves a good treat. I’ve never understood that!”

You laughed, wiping the foam of your drink from your mouth. “You know, Freddie, you make an awfully good point! From now on, you’ll only ever hear me say ‘trick and treat’!”

“Cheers!” He laughed, clinking his mug with yours.

The two of you chatted away in Three Broomsticks for what felt like an eternity. As time passed, folks rolled in and out of the pub, and eventually you found the rest of your party. George and Ginny, along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, joined you for some time before deciding they’d had enough festivities for one evening.

As they gathered their things and emptied their mugs, George turned to the two of you and asked, “You two coming along?”

Suddenly, Ginny grabbed George’s arm, forcefully turning him towards the door as she sang over her shoulder, “Goodnight!”

Fred chuckled, taking a swig from his drink, as you fought to suppress the cursed blush that continuously resurfaced on your burning cheeks.

Time continued ticking away as the two of you resumed conversation. It felt natural to sit with Fred, tossing back Butterbeers, bringing each other to tears from laughter, and poking and prodding at the recesses of your minds; Madam Rosmerta was less fond of it, however.

“I’m sure it’s well past your bedtime, lovebirds — out,” she declared.

The two of you gathered your belongings and giggled as you wandered back out into the streets. You caught a glimpse of the time and exclaimed, “Blimey, it’s eleven o’clock! We’ll have to sneak back into the castle at this point!”

“I know a way back,” Fred said with a smirk.

He led you by the hand to a secret passageway tucked in an alley where he assured you it was a safe escape to Hogwarts. You had your doubts about the secrecy of this tunnel, feeling uneasy at the thought of Filch ensnaring you after-hours; but Fred insisted. And if it meant prolonging your evening with Fred, then you had no choice but to follow.

As you crept down the tunnel towards Hogwarts by the guiding light of Fred’s wand, you gently bumped into his side, conspicuously brushing your hand against his. You normally wouldn’t feel so bold, but after the sheer volume of Butterbeer that you’d consumed, you felt particularly daring at the moment.

Fred grinned down at you and gently bumped you back. You stumbled a bit in a fit of giggles that Fred echoed as he snagged your hand in his.

“Easy there, Y/L/N, don’t want you tumbling down the tunnel!”

You took advantage of the opportunity to boldly intertwine your fingers with his. You rested your head on his arm and mumbled, “I’m tired, Freddie...”

“We’re almost there,” he said, fighting a grin and squeezing your hand.

The two of you continued walking for quite some time like this. The remainder of the walk was mostly silent — not because neither of you had anything to say, but mostly because you each had so much to say and ruminated on exactly how to say those things.

Your thoughts raced through your addled brain a million miles a minute, and as you approached the Hogwarts corridor, you cursed yourself for not saying something sooner.

“You fall asleep over there?” Fred chuckled, nudging your head softly with his arm.

You peered up at him lovingly before straightening up to face him. With your fingers still tightly wound around his, you whispered, “Freddie...”

“Y/N,” he playfully whispered back.

You giggled.

“That was a good trick we played earlier, don’t you think?” You asked, taking a step closer.

“One of my finest yet,” he replied, struggling to form full sentences given your proximity.

“And you know what they say...” You said.

“What do they say, Y/N?” He teased, using his free hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear.

“Trick and treat... so how’s about a treat?”

Suddenly, you closed the space between the two of you and locked your lips with his. Your lips moved slowly together, almost in shock that this was actually happening. He released your hand in order to use both of his to hold the back of your head, and you stood on your tiptoes to deepen the kiss as you wrapped your hands around his neck.

When your lips parted, you almost whined at the separation.

“That was the best treat yet,” he said with a wink, running his hands down your waist and giving you a squeeze.

You bit your lip and led him down a quiet hallway. “I know I’m supposed to say something like, ‘There’s no place like home,’ but honestly...” you trailed off, stopping in front of a vacant classroom. “I’d much rather be in here.”

Fred’s eyes widened with hunger as you backed him into the classroom, kicking the door shut behind you.

Fred lifted you onto a nearby desk and sighed, “I love Halloween.”

[chocosvt]

⚬ pairing: junhui x reader ⚬ word count: 8125 ⚬ warnings: none! ⚬ genres: secret relationship, some slice of life uni moments, FLUFF, very light angst, spice, roommates!wonhui.

✧✎ synopsis: you’re friends with junhui - but also, not really. it’s friends and a little bit more than that. it’s difficult keeping your relationship a secret, especially when you’ve never loved someone the way you love him.

✧✎ a/n: NOBODY MOVE! I WROTE A JUN BDAY FIC ;_; this is really just me projecting all my years of love onto a word doc. enjoy!!

It was midnight, and the apartment was dark, unmoving. No one had bothered to clean the blue cereal bowl left in the sink and there remained bread crumbs on the countertop from lunch. As you flicked through the strange glimpses of late-night television, yawning in an outrageous width, there was a hunger pang, accompanied by an immediate craving for some sort of sweet candy.

So, you did what seemed best: fit into your sneakers and a windbreaker and push open the door to Jun’s bedroom while he was curled up on his side watching his drama. Wonwoo would usually be occupying the adjacent bed, though he had stayed over at Joshua’s dorm to study for his next history summative. Yet he’d left his beat-up, decaying textbook on his pillow.

“Put on your slippers or something, we’re going to the convenience store.”

Jun didn’t say anything, rather he continued holding out his phone, the bedsheets pulled taunt to his nose. Looking at Jun’s desk that sat next to the door, you picked up the rubber band ball he’d been adding to since his twelfth-grade year and threw it at his shoulder.

“Ow!” He squeaked dramatically. His head then poked over his shoulder as he attempted to see where the ball rolled off to.

“Put on your slippers,” you reiterated, “I want strawberry tangs.”

Without much effort, Jun quickly gave up looking for the elastic ball and returned to watching his drama, establishing his comfort while somehow still persisting to ignore you. He was very much so a homebody, and if it weren’t for you guiding him out the apartment like a grandchild taking their elderly for an afternoon walk, then he might’ve never left his bedroom apart from his class schedule. Yet, you knew exactly how to persuade him, weaken his heart that was already soft and golden.

An immediate whine rumbled in his throat when you jumped on the bed, pulling at him until he finally rolled onto his back, at last pressing pause on his phone. You tossed a thigh over each side of his silhouette and gripped the boy’s wide shoulders, gazing unflinchingly past his black fringe and into those big, glistening eyes.

“Come with me to the store,” you weren’t sure if you were offering or demanding, “please?”

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

It was a surface-level question really, but nonetheless, your heart still skipped a beat. In only a second or more the silence was bearing down too heavily and it felt like your heart was a book with all its pages out. Jun’s eyes were twinkling as he blinked up at you.

“Walking around alone at night? Hello? Do you have no concern for me?” Came your joking counter.

He tossed his head back, the black fringe bouncing from his lashes. His capitulating yelp of, “fine, fine, I’ll come” was satisfactory enough for you to remove yourself from the boy’s tiny waist, where you stepped on the floor and nearly sprained your ankle due to that dumb, elastic ball. At least you found it. While you returned the toy to his desk, Jun quickly threw a worn jean jacket over his black long sleeve and didn’t bother bending down to fix his sneakers, his heels jutting out the back.

At the convenience store, the only shoppers were you, Junhui, and this lady wearing a huge pair of sunglasses, though you figured she was far from the strangest of the midnight stragglers.

It was rather quiet, even with the fluorescent lights buzzing and the battery-powered fan keeping the cashier cool at the register. You grabbed the first package of strawberry tangs while Jun sorted through the other flavours very meticulously.

“What about blue raspberry?” He said. “You don’t want that?”

“I don’t know, I just really have a craving for strawberry.”

Jun detached a bright green package from the rack. “Sour apple? What about that?”

“Not tasty at all. Pass.”

He grabbed another package and quirked his eyebrow. “Sweet cherry? Come on. That sounds good.”

You lightly hit his arm with the strawberry candy, your laughter echoing over the shelves, “I just want strawberry! If you think the sweet cherry sounds good then you buy it!”

But Jun just shook the black fringe from his playful gaze, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Tangy zangys are the bottom tier of gummy candy. No way.”

“So shut up then.” The words were harsh, yet your smile was no more menacing than a butterfly.

Since it would be impossible for Jun to leave the store without stocking his snack collection, you shopped for longer than expected, filling a basket with spicy chips and hard candies and a few chocolate bars. Heading home down the nighttime street, beneath the moonlight, the infinite expanse of a blackness that felt like a cocoon, you had already ripped open your strawberry tangs while Jun tore the corner off a tiny pouch of bubblegum poprocks.

They crackled loudly on his tongue, in which he made sure to hover in close proximity to your ear, ensuring you could detect every small fizzle. Each time it warranted you to shove him away, muttering a cheap laugh about how it wasn’t required that he lean in so generously, though you couldn’t evade that one nervous thought ticking at the back of your head: you wanted to kiss him, wrap your palm around Jun’s neck and taste the electric bubblegum from his heart-shaped mouth.

“Aren’t you glad you came with me?” You asked, suckling the sugar off a red candy strip.

Jun swallowed his poprocks. “I guess you can word it like that.”

Standing at the living room fish tank, you opened the tab to the flake box and shook the food into the water, your pink guppy who you had so fittingly named, Princess Pebble, swimming toward the surface in order to nip at the flakes. Wonwoo observed you from his seat at the kitchen table, dragging his spoon through the remainder of his cereal, scooping out the last soggy pieces.

“I feel good about it,” Wonwoo hummed, referring to the history test he wrote yesterday, “I think I might’ve left out some information on the essay question.”

You closed the fish flakes and returned to the table, where you left your cup of tea.

“Eh, who cares,” you mumbled behind the rim, “you’re gonna get like a ninety-five anyways.”

The boy shrugged, pressing a fingertip to his glasses, moving them higher up his nose. He had always been diligent with his studying, though he often left the apartment to write notes at the library or a classmate’s dorm. It was difficult to accomplish much when Junhui would distract him, and rather than reading his textbook, Wonwoo would always end up playing computer games with the latter.

“Did you hear Jun come home last night?” You asked, gulping the rest of your tea.

Wonwoo set his bowl into the sink and filled it with water, smiling. It irked you somehow. You were only curious about whether or not he heard Jun return from his dance practice.

Joining him at the sink to clean your mug, you bumped his elbow. “What’s so cute over here?”

“Nothing,” he hummed dismissively, “I heard him crawl into bed, that’s pretty much it.”

“And that’s funny or something?”

“You ask about him quite frequently.” Wonwoo turned to you with a suspecting glance, one that made you subtly desire to dump a cup of water over his head. “You know that, right?”

The morning air was cool, yet your face felt immensely heated, almost prickling.

“I ask because we’re fri—”

“Friends. Yeah, yeah.” Wonwoo huffed, the omniscient smile creeping back toward his mouth, to which you could do nothing apart from gawk at your roommate despite his reiteration of a musing that wasn’t at all unfamiliar. “I’ve always loved you for your innate sense of comedy. It’s priceless.”

It’s what everyone assumed anyways. You and Jun fought tooth and nail to articulate your friendship, to paint with the colours that would lead everyone to believe it was true. Most often your explanations worked, yet there remained some who were particularly stubborn. Wonwoo was an evident case. But he was too close, too eagle-eyed, and he saw that you and Jun behaved in a manner completely beyond friendship. Despite the likewise feelings, something unbeknownst kept you apart.

“I know exactly what that means, idiot!” Echoed your shout as Wonwoo disappeared down the corridor, hoping to take refuge in his bedroom.

“I’m glad!” The depth of his voice reverberated into the kitchen, and you heard his door quickly shut.

No less than a few seconds later did Junhui reveal himself from around the corner, clean and freshened up after a steamy shower, one he desperately needed upon immediately passing out, sweat-soaked and exhausted in his bed the night before. Soonyoung definitely hadn’t taught their lesson with any degree of ease. Pretending you weren’t just quipping at Wonwoo, you smiled.

“Were you two fighting?” Jun asked, pulling out a frying pan from the cupboard. He usually whipped together an omelette for breakfast.

“No, not at all. We never fight, remember?”

Jun scoffed while opening the fridge, removing an egg carton and a plastic wrapping filled with vegetables. Still hungry, you started peeling open a tangerine from the fruit basket and stood next to him as he organized the produce onto a cutting board. Ever so faintly, you could smell the crisp scent to his aftershave. It was peculiar how a bit of foam could render your chest that cottony.

“In fact, when’s the last time you even remember an argument Wonwoo and I had?” You prodded.

“Two days ago,” Jun laughed, “when Wonwoo wanted to watch that exploration documentary on King Tut, but you changed the channel so you could finish the last season of Home Makeover.”

Pressing his rose lips together, Junhui casted you an innocent glance. “So there’s that.”

Separating a small slice of tangerine, you gently pushed the clove into the boy’s mouth. He smiled softly as he began to chew. With the gentle tang of citrus in the air, you set a hand on Jun’s shoulder and buried your face against his warm neck, whispering, “yeah, and it was definitely worth it.”

Quite frankly, neither you, Jun, Wonwoo, or Joshua were fairing optimally at the library. While Wonwoo sat on the opposite side of the table helping Joshua organize his economics presentation, you were neglecting your biology packet, instead choosing to sketch a tiny Princess Pebble in the paper’s upper corner. Jun had been tasked with reviewing his latest theatre script, yet he hadn’t even flicked through it. He was intrigued by one of the numerous mangas he’d saved to his phone.

“Take the last point off here,” Wonwoo said, peering over Joshua’s shoulder at his laptop, “there’s too much text, and this isn’t a major branch of your topic anyways.”

Joshua sighed as he made a few clicks on his keyboard. “Dude, I don’t think I can edit another word. This class is so boring.”

“Mr. Canning is just a boring professor,” Wonwoo sympathized, “it would be best if it were someone who weren’t so… dry. I guess is the right word.”

Slumping back in his chair, Joshua huffed, “he’s like a human chalk stick.”

Desperate to discuss something that wasn’t related to his lacklustre econ class, Joshua spared a glance at Jun’s unopened script. “Shouldn’t you be learning that?” He asked.

Jun didn’t look away from the phone in his lap. “I can’t do it here.”

“That means he’s going to open it for the first time at one in the morning, the day of his performance.” You chuckled, outlining the sketch of your guppy using Wonwoo’s pink gel pen.

Harshly, Jun’s hand smacked your knee under the table and you couldn’t help but laugh, garnering an over-the-shoulder glare from a student in the corner who’d been trying to focus on their colossal textbook. Wonwoo smiled at them apologetically while Joshua feigned as though he were typing something on his laptop. However, Jun’s hand didn’t leave your knee, and your laughter became an immediate drought, to which the sole thing you could feel was his palm creeping higher up your leg.

Attempting to be subtle, you turned your head slightly and looked at the boy with a bit of a warning expression, though Jun simply continued to scroll through his manga.

“I’m going to check the world history section,” Wonwoo announced, rising from the table, “anyone want to come with?”

Joshua pushed out his chair. “I’ll come just so I don’t have to stare at this shitty powerpoint.”

As soon as the boys walked beyond earshot, you pinched the edge of Jun’s ear. He finally tossed his phone onto the table, though he didn’t exactly appear compassionate, rather he was smirking, for he knew if you truly didn’t want his hand touching your leg then you would have bumped it away.

“You can’t do that.” Nonetheless, there surmounted a need to establish some insignificant boundary, one that neither of you were going to follow through. “Not when they’re so close.”

“But they didn’t see.” Jun replied, squeezing your inner thigh. “It shouldn’t matter.”

“It does. What if Joshua saw?” At that point, Wonwoo was fairly conditioned to your lingering fingertips, grazes and stares. He usually pretended not to notice them. However, Joshua was a risk.

Jun shrugged. “I don’t know. Don’t you worry too much? I always touch your leg.”

That was the problem. People trying to convince other people that their relationship was wholly platonic didn’t linger in such an intimate way. They didn’t creep fingertips up the other’s inner thigh beneath a tablecloth, or possess a gaze that traced the other’s lips like a delectable piece of candy when they spoke. There shouldn’t be any whispers pressed quickly against the other’s ear when no one else was looking, or the dire urge to climb into the other’s lap when their legs were wide open.

Both of you were afraid. Neither of you wanted to break the question that would thrust your relationship into the light. You kept waiting for the right time, but it always seemed one step ahead.

The movie theatre was nearly empty as the longwinded credit screen continued rolling, the last few congregations throwing their soda cups and empty packages into the garbage on their way out. Still, the floor of practically every row had been scattered with butter popcorn or melted m&m’s, shiny chocolate wrappers left crinkled in the recliners like the employees were supposed to take them home as gifts. Wonwoo put his hands on the back of his head, examining the disastrous rows.

You sensed he was feeling rather lucky about not being scheduled that night. Jun forced himself from the recliner and picked up his cup of fruit punch, jammed with way too many ice cubes.

If no one else was going to comment, you might as well. “That wasn’t the worst.”

“Agreed.” Wonwoo said, pushing up his glasses. “The murderer’s ploy was difficult to follow at times. I started getting confused when he left his car in the woods.”

“What?” Jun gawked. “That’s when you got confused? I didn’t even know what was happening after the first half hour.” His eyes gleamed in astonishment.

“Same.” You admitted. “I guess you’ll have to explain in the car.”

Reaching into the cupholder, you pulled out the package of strawberry tangs with nothing but a tiny amount of the powder-like sugar left inside.

“Thank you for picking up your trash,” Wonwoo sighed, taking the lead down the stairway while the credit music still played, “I’d hate to be working tonight.”

The wide corridor was completely vacant by the time you exited the theatre. Ever so slightly you could hear the galactic sound effects from the arcade machines. That buttery scent of popcorn seemed to waft no matter where you stood in the cinema. Wonwoo announced that he was going to check the concession counter to see who was on cash, but assured he would meet you and Jun at the back exit. Jun hurriedly downed his fruit punch in a large gulp before you emerged into the night.

You were confined to the small overhang by the doorway, for a hard rain was pelting against the concrete and turned the night air considerably cooler. Not one of you had checked the forecast beforehand, and you would undoubtedly get drenched straight through to the flesh in your thin long-sleeve.

“How are we going to make it to the car?” You groaned.

Pulling up his hood, Jun only laughed. “Now is a good time to be able to teleport.” He then stuck out his hand for a moment, the raindrops hitting his palm.

“Does it feel like bullets?”

“No. It feels kind of nice actually.” He remarked.

Curious, you rolled up your sleeve and extended your arm into the downpour. Jun was right, it felt satisfactory as each of the brisk droplets splashed your skin. However, you prematurely discovered the rain wasn’t so appealing when Jun suddenly shoved you from beneath the overhang.

“Hey— what the hell?!” You squealed upon the immediate repercussions, the cold water already leaking through your top while Junhui slapped his thigh, cackling.

Wanting to erase that luminous grin of his, you attempted wrestling the lanky boy into the weather, but no more than a few harmless drops skimmed his shoulder. Yet, with another brute shove, Jun stumbled, feeling the silver needles of rain pour down from the night sky and swirl at his dampening sneakers. He was laughing as he grabbed your wrist, pulling you hard against his chest before you were even cognisant that an immense wetness was soaking through your every article.

You wished it had been indignance drumming in your heart rather than affection, because it was taking every single fibre of your being not to kiss him. As the droplets beaded down his skin, he was like a springtime flower caught in the morning dew, and when he carded back the wet, black hairs plastered to his forehead, you thought it was possible to fall into him and never feel that concrete scrape your knees. Gently, his hand touched the small of your wet back, his breaths deepening.

He urged you in tighter as his tongue ran along his bottom lip, tasting the rain.

You were shivering, frigid, though your blood was far too warm to let yourself take note. Instead, you moved your head closer, closer, Jun’s cold palm cupping your cheek and your eyes fluttering shut and your soft mouths just brushing together— until Wonwoo appeared from inside.

Instantly, you two pushed away from each other. With his eyes widening, Wonwoo stuttered.

“I-I’m… I’m going to pretend as best I can that something weird didn’t almost happen.” He stated, swallowing thickly. “Just… Why did you two have to get soaked? You’re sitting in my car, y’know!”

At last, you felt that icy shiver trickle down your spine.

“S-Sorry.” You hummed, teeth chattering.

“I guess it’s fine,” Wonwoo sighed, “I have some towels under the passenger’s seat.”

Not long after returning to the apartment, Wonwoo gathered his laptop and slipped into his pyjamas. He proceeded to flop onto the couch to edit his research paper, though it didn’t take much for his eyelids to start weighing down, his dense paragraphs blurring together on the screen. More often than not you would take advantage of Wonwoo’s midnight crashes in the living room.

After exchanging your damp, terribly cold clothes for a warm t-shirt and sweatpants, you found yourself cozied beneath Jun’s comforter for the umpteenth night. The boy’s head rested against the crook of your neck, where his slow breaths were cool to your skin, though they occasionally became heavier when your fingertips stroked at his smooth hair. He was much like a kitten who loved a thorough scratch behind the ears. You swore that he purred whenever you rubbed the right spot.

Holding out his phone, he’d been finishing an episode of his drama before bed. You tucked some of the black locks behind his ear, noting how much it’d grown over the months. Then your gaze wandered over every detail that shaped his face, as though he were a textured oil painting.

His eyes were always glimmering, seemingly innocent and curious, yet you knew just how much that earthly shade could darken when he fell into his professions. When Jun acted on stage, his gaze lost its untainted nature. It moulded into the role of the sinister characters he preferred playing. When he danced in blazing lights, those eyes were sharp enough to consume, to cut, almost like a razorblade.

But then you studied his lips, his heart-shaped cupid’s bow, the small constellation of moles that dotted his skin like kisses from past soulmates. You thought back to the mist and the rain, his hand resting against the small of your back, how close you were to tasting the flavourful, fruity mix of his drink. In fact, you wondered why you didn’t just kiss Junhui whenever you wanted. What was stopping you, in that moment, from turning his head toward you so that your lips could press to his?

Suddenly, the boy laughed at his phone screen, to which you felt the brassy reverberation erupt in his chest, his eyes glinting and his mouth stretched into a box-like smile. You pulled a few strands of hair from his forehead as he seemed to be glowing, his cheeks rosy.

Jun mewled in surprise when your fingers threaded rather tight through his black locks, feeling you tilt his head up until his gaze was burning into yours.

You didn’t hesitate. Leaning forward, you kissed him sweet and slow.

Jun’s eyes fluttered as the pressure warmed his mouth, a small whine getting caught in his throat upon the gentle sting of your hand tugging at his tresses, his scalp tingling. His phone sunk into the bedsheets, and instead he was gripping your t-shirt, moving his head with yours as the kiss deepened. He tasted like mint, and his small whines were silky.

How on earth could you have ever shied from kissing him when it felt so relieving? Nothing else held any significance to you apart from making his pretty lips shine.

However, you needed to catch your breath. Releasing the firm grasp on his hair, you detached your mouth from his, your chest rising and falling in great lengths. The boy’s eyes couldn’t be more glazed, his lips shimmering, flushed garnet and slightly swollen. Neither of you uttered a word. The blankets fell from Jun’s shoulders as he straddled your waist eagerly. Again, his mouth slotted with yours, and your hands slid up his caramel thighs, imprinting his flesh with the curve of your fingernails.

If you kept quiet enough, then perhaps Wonwoo would remain asleep until morning.

Standing amongst the crowd in the cramped performance hall, it was inevitable that you would get bumped around like a tiny, flying pinball. After rutting into Wonwoo’s shoulder for the third time, he seemed dauntingly close to losing his indolence and snapping, though he realized it wasn’t your fault that others were pushing toward the front of the stage and bit his tongue.  

It became tradition for Soonyoung and his students to rent the downtown performance hall and host a fundraiser. The event typically lasted a few hours, with a few short interludes where the dancers would retreat backstage to catch their breath. Being Jun’s roommate, you and Wonwoo were always granted access into the small dressing room, and though you never admitted it, you loved experiencing that small flash of pride whenever the moonstruck audience watched you slip away.

The next interlude was closing in. Despite the different dancers on stage, you really, truthfully, only watched Jun. Each time he captured the centre position, you couldn’t help but cup your hands around your mouth, being one of the first to cheer overtop the deafening music as he moved so fluidly, with poise. He was a completely different person when he performed. Somehow, his tender-hearted nature would peel back and he’d emerge a domineering beacon.

As soon as the stage ended, an uproar rippled from the audience and resonated deep in your ears, to which you couldn’t help but slightly bury your head against Wonwoo’s shoulder to muffle the cacophony. Nonetheless, you were clapping, smiling, staring fondly as Jun grabbed his collar and fluffed it out, welcoming a slight gust of humid air. His skin was dewy with sweat, and yet he glowed beautifully, even when he was breathing so heavily through his nose.

Soonyoung was speaking into his microphone, but you missed half his speech, and before you knew it you were being dragged by Wonwoo through the crowd toward the backstage entrance. The room was at least big enough to accommodate the dancers. Jun was in the corner, gulping down his water.

“Only three more songs,” Wonwoo smiled, “you guys really stepped the level up this year.”

It took a moment before Jun replied, the column of his neck glittering as he completely crushed the plastic bottle in his hands.

“Yeah,” he burst out, “I’m freaking dying.”

“It’s for a good cause at least.” Wonwoo reasoned, ignoring how you stepped on his foot.

After Jun rolled his eyes, he was staring at you.

The air grew much too thick, and you had to clear your throat. “S-Seriously, you’ve improved so much. I can’t believe it.”

“Thanks,” Jun replied, scratching his nape, “it’s nothing special, really.”

“Uh? Nothing special?” Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t Soonyoung say you’re one of the best in the class?”

When Jun innocently flitted his gaze toward a distant spot and pressed his lips together, Wonwoo merely huffed, announcing he was going to the lobby for a drink of water. You watched him wind between the busy dancers, either wiping down their sweat or fanning themselves, until he disappeared out the door. When you faced Jun again, you looped your fingers through the satin collar of his stage outfit and kissed him quickly, knowing everyone was too occupied to take note.

He squeaked, “what happened to being careful?”

“This is your fault.” You eagerly pinned it on him. “Try being less hot.”

“That’s horrible advice. And also not possible. Which makes it worse than horrible.”

You weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to feel his mouth again or whack the side of his head with his deflated water bottle. Opting for latter, you stole another kiss, though you tensed in surprise when Jun wrapped his arm around your waist to secure your body firm against his. Hastily, you pushed at his toned stomach, your heart drilling manically as you looked over your shoulder toward the dancers. It didn’t appear as though anyone had seen and you breathed out in relief.

Suddenly, Soonyoung poked his head through the doorway.

“Ten minutes!” He shouted before disappearing.

Jun was staring at you with the most ingenious twinkle.

“That was your fault.” He purred, tapping your thigh with his water bottle. “Try being less hot.”

You did feel a small sliver of guilt. After all, Wonwoo had been waiting back at the apartment for approximately an hour, twiddling his thumbs, wondering why you and Jun required so much goddamn time just to buy some hot fudge sundaes. The molten taste of the chocolate, the vanilla ice cream, cold and sweet, was completely stolen from your lips by the boy whose lap you were occupying. Wonwoo’s sundae sat on the dashboard, dripping slowly beneath the evening sunlight.

And yet, that infinitesimal sliver was plucked straight out when Jun latched onto a sensitive patch of your neck, softly digging in his teeth and swirling his tongue. Your fingers sheathed through the black hair and pulled up at the roots, knowing how much pleasure he took from the dull sting. Button by button, Jun started to simultaneously open your shirt, to which you questioned if this was really happening, if you were really going to sort of out the complications of intercourse in his car.

The device abandoned in the passenger’s seat buzzed. You already knew the name to the text. As Jun kissed his way down to your collarbone, licking and suckling, you reached for your phone, feeling it buzz again with another impatient text. The guilt from earlier began to resurface.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] This is suspicious now. WHERE ARE YOU? >:(

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] Actually screw that. WHERE IS MY HOT FUDGE SUNDAE?

The screen blipped with yet another message.

[ wonwoo | 7:49pm ] I know you’re reading these… Answer me or I won’t feed Princess Pebble!!

“J-Jun,” you piped up, hearing his low, husky mumble while he continued to mark your collarbone, “I think we need to go home now.”

The boy splayed a few more open-mouthed kisses against the skin before peeking up at you, his eyes wide and glimmering, lips flushed a deep magenta. With half the buttons of your shirt hanging open and your heart blazing, you had to snip the venereal longing in its bud.

“What’s wrong?” Jun hummed, pushing his fingers through the loops on your jeans. “Who’s texting?”

“Wonwoo. He’s been waiting for almost an hour, and his sundae is gonna be a puddle at this rate.”

He blinked a bit cluelessly, though still in musing. “There’s no way to be quick about this, is there?”

Rebuttoning your shirt, you shook your head and laughed. “Let’s wait before we ruin the car. I’m sure there’ll be a better time in the future.”

Jun nodded in agreement and relaxed back into the seat, a ray of sunshine that bled golden slanting through the windshield. Somehow, Wonwoo’s sundae wasn’t a complete pool sitting in the plastic cup, but that didn’t negate the fact he was still going to start his theory on responsibility and trust the moment you stepped onto the welcome mat. As you finished clasping the last buttons, something had caught Jun’s eye out the window, for he immediately panicked and tightly gripped your waist.

“Oh my god, g-get off my lap,” he grunted, to which your head bumped against the ceiling during the hurried shuffle and your knee whacked the gearstick.

“Ow! Okay, I’m going! Jeez, could you not give me a warning?”

“No,” Jun remarked, looking quickly to the rear-view mirror to straighten out his hair, “it’s Jeonghan and Soonyoung. They just came out of the store.”

When you glanced out Jun’s window, you noted the duo making their way across the parking lot, some plastic bags filled with groceries hanging from Jeonghan’s hand while Soonyoung appeared to be texting someone. To both your dismay, Soonyoung immediately recognized Jun’s car. You watched as the blonde bumped Jeonghan’s shoulder, how they took a slight detour on their way over.

“We have to talk to them?” You whined. “Are you kidding? Lock your window.”

Jun’s brow pinched together. “How is that going to help? They already saw us so just relax.”

“You’re telling me to relax? You practically threw me off your la—”

“Shht,” Jun snapped as the two boys drew nearer, “just shhhhht okay?” And with an incredibly large gulp, he plastered a happy-go-lucky smile to his mouth and let the window slide open.

“Jun?” Soonyoung called, leaning down slightly to peer inside the vehicle. “What’re you doing out here, huh? Back from shoplifting?”

Jeonghan bent down too, grinning snidely. “You looked a little frazzled or something.”

“Me?” Jun pointed at himself. “No, I’m fine. Just – we have to leave. Wonwoo is waiting.”

“Wonwoo?” Jeonghan seemed excited. “I haven’t seen him in a while. Hey, tell him I’m still appreciative for writing my World History paper on the Persian Empire.”

You knew it was best to stay quiet, but you couldn’t help your slight choke. Wonwoo had come home one day saying that one of his classmates offered him seventy-five bucks if he’d write their history paper. He wasn’t going to oblige originally, but cracked after listening to his classmate type out their introduction in the library, that it was just so bad Wonwoo felt piteous and decided to pitch in.

Gaping at Jeonghan, you exclaimed, “that was you?”

“Yeah. I mean, I still dropped that class. And Wonwoo definitely thinks I’m a dumbass. But I didn’t have to do a spot of work, and now I’m getting smooth nineties in English. You just have to make up some shit and do a couple fancy indents and you’re set.”

Jeonghan paused, then leaned in a little further to look you up and down. “Y’know, I’ve never seen you before. How easily do you give out your numbe—”

“We really have to go,” Jun interrupted, already clicking the button to roll up the window, “see you at practice, Soonyoung. Bye Jeonghan!”

The two boys didn’t really have any other option apart from stepping back, allowing Jun to exit the parking space and turn onto the road. Not that it would help much, you turned on the air conditioning until it felt like the wind was pure ice, hoping that you’d be able to preserve Wonwoo’s melting fudge sundae. You made sure to text him on your whereabouts, that you were heading home, and churned up a white lie about how you ran into Jun’s friends who held a persistent conversation.

It wasn’t entirely false. And yet, Wonwoo still managed to see through it.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Just say you were making out.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: Btw, I fed Princess Pebble.

[ wonwoo | 7:54 pm ]: I’m not a sinner. Unlike you guys.

Later that evening, after delivering Wonwoo his melted cup of chocolate ice cream, after Jun quickly threw some extra clothes into his backpack and ran to his late-night dance practice, you were standing at the fish tank with some new plants you bought for your guppy. As the bright lights of the tank reflected across your face, there was a strange feeling inside you. It seemed like turbulence, confusion, your heart experiencing one sentiment but your brain thinking another.

You hadn’t realized you were absently standing there until Wonwoo came into the dark living room, holding a crumpled tube of toothpaste and his toothbrush. Watching the pink fish swim in between her new seaweed arrangement, he asked you if there was an extra tube stored in your bedroom.

“Don’t think so. Text Jun and ask him to stop at the store when his practice ends.”

“I’ll do that…” Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, you know I already fed Princess Pebble?”

He accompanied you at the tank. For some reason, you refused to look at Wonwoo. You felt unusually vulnerable, like a fragile shell that could be cracked open even by the gentlest hands, and the more you thought into your emotions, the harder your heart started pounding.

“I-I know,” you smiled weakly, “but I got her some new plants today. I just put them in.”

Wonwoo could always tell when something was off-kilter. You almost hated how sharp his senses were, that he was able to detect with such accuracy how you were being eaten up inside. Softly, he touched your shoulder, urged you to turn toward him so he could see the honest colour in your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” He frowned, pushing up the bridge of his glasses.

You felt terrified, but there was no sense in pretending.

“How do I tell Jun that I’m in love with him? That I don’t want us to be a secret anymore?”

It was a weighted question, and you knew that. But it was also the truth. As much as it could be invigorating to maintain a secret relationship, you were beginning to feel the brittle side effects that came with keeping such love behind closed doors. You didn’t want Jun to push you from his lap just because his friends might’ve seen you, nor did you want to keep an eye out for whether or not you should knock his hand off your thigh in public. The secrecy had been fun, but it wasn’t enough.

Scratching the blue collar of his shirt, Wonwoo appeared uncertain.

“I’m not sure, honestly. I just think you shouldn’t repress this. You need to be upfront.”

“How?” It sounded like a desperate plead. “I don’t know how, Wonwoo.”

“Stop overthinking it,” the boy advised, grabbing onto your shoulders and giving your frame a small, grounding shake, “you know Jun. You know he isn’t a rash person. You know if you tell him he’ll hear every word of it. It doesn’t take a genius to see you’re all he thinks about.”

Wonwoo  brushed at the side of your cheek with his thumb. “Don’t hurt yourself like this, okay? The next time you’re alone, just say how you feel. I promise it won’t be as bad as you’re hypothesizing.”

You inhaled a deep breath and nodded. Overthinking was a poison to you. It shouldn’t be that difficult to be honest, especially when you knew how attentive Jun was, the manner in which he always adapted himself to be of a comforting presence.

“Okay,” you attempted to draw together some confidence, “I’ll do that.”

“Good.” The boy grinned, still fiddling with his empty tube of toothpaste. “It really doesn’t bother me that you guys run around together. Just… please… never do anything weird in my bed.”

The next time you were alone with Jun, it was all but a desirable circumstance. Once you came home from work and heated up some leftover dinner in the microwave, you decided to feed Princess Pebble, though your jaw unhinged as you noticed something a little unorthodox about her tank: a pink blotch floating against the surface of the water. Immediately, the tears welted hot and stinging against your eyes. You had to use the small net to scoop your guppy out from the water.

Remarkably, Princess Pebble had lived a long life for a fish. You remembered walking with Jun to the pet store one summer afternoon, after you two finished your last day of eleventh grade and had just escaped a brutal chemistry exam. Rather than studying beforehand, you spent ample time researching different types of fish, and would often send Jun pictures asking him to choose which one he thought was cutest. Yet, at the end of it all, you chose a guppy with the prettiest pink scales.

“Don’t most people want a puppy? A kitten? And you choose a boring fish.”

Jun had teased, sounding awkward and a bit lisped through his braces.

Somehow, Princess Pebble had managed to live a five-year lifespan. Wonwoo told you most guppies live for two years, three years if the owner takes good care. Sitting at the kitchen table, you placed her body onto a piece of paper towel, the thick tears dripping down your cheeks while your sinuses grew wet and congested. You didn’t know if it was petulant to be your age, crying over a pet fish. In fact, you didn’t even possess the heart to rise from the table and discard her body.

It wasn’t much longer until Jun returned home after his theatre class, to which you heard his key rattling in the lock. Wonwoo was scheduled for a shift at the cinema, most likely handing out overpriced popcorn and chocolate and having to reject every person who asked for his number.

“Hey,” he called, shouldering off his backpack, “Wonwoo texted me. That weird thriller we were looking at is playing next week. We should—,”

Jun paused the moment he heard your runny sniffling. He didn’t realize that your fish was sitting on the paper towel until he took a few steps closer. You felt embarrassed Jun had to see you like this. If you were crying, it had always been over something with a little more gravity, like the time you were distraught about flunking your laboratory practical, and Wonwoo couldn’t persuade you to open your bedroom door no matter how frequently he stood outside, pleading.

Plucking at the collar of your shirt, you used the fabric to clear away the tears. Without a word, Jun grabbed another chair from the dining table and pulled it next to you, scooting in close. As soon as you felt his arm drape around your shoulders, it was like someone had pulled the plug on a bathtub filled with water, to which you pressed your face against his neck and sobbed harder.

“I’m so sorry.” Jun whispered, hugging you tight to his comfortable chest. “It’s okay to be upset. I know how much she meant to you.”

He drew soothing strokes down the back of your head, and he sat with you until those wet pearls ran dry with salt. You knew it wasn’t wise to keep her body out in the air, that you would have to discard her somehow, yet the thought of having to flush her away seemed too cruel. Jun wiped the soft glisten from your cheeks with his sleeve, his fingers then tracing up and down the side of your face.

“I-I don’t want to flush her.” You blubbered.

The boy shook his head. “We won’t do that. We’ll find a good way to handle it.” His thumb brushed tenderly below the fragile skin of your eye for a moment, and he seemed to be in musing.

“Wait here.” He announced, suddenly running into his bedroom.

You could hear Jun shuffling through his closet, moving around clothing hangers and pushing aside boxes still filled with some of his old belongings from homelife in Shenzhen. When he remerged into the living room, he was holding a particular tissue box, one that you hadn’t seen since twelfth grade biology. You, Jun, and Wonwoo had painted and decorated the box as part of an optional project, to see if you could grow any plants from the packets of radish and tomato seeds your teacher had.

Nothing ever grew. Wonwoo claimed there had been some green sprouts when it was his turn to look after the makeshift garden, but that his cat snuck into his room and ate them all. Jun always kept a multitude of random things that dated back to your adolescence. As awkward and bumpy as those times were, seeing the tissue box reminded you that there had been precious moments too.

“Why do you still have that?” You laughed, even if your chest was aching.

“Because that was the first time us three did something together.” Jun said, returning to his seat beside you. “It was one of the first memories I made after moving away from home.”

You fondly looked at Jun while pulling the tissue box toward you, slathered in old, chipping acrylic paint and obnoxious, starry glitter.

Licking the dry salt off your lips, you smiled. “Princess Pebble would love this.”

“It can be her shrine. When Wonwoo comes home, we can find a good place to bury it.” Jun explained. “I know I called her boring five years ago, but I didn’t mean it. I loved her too.”

In the pensive silence, you thought back to your conversation with Wonwoo, recalling his firm grip on your shoulders as he reiterated the importance of freeing your heart, of not bogging yourself down with too many untold truths. Then, you glanced at Jun. You thought about that fluttering feeling when you kissed him, when you ran your fingers through his hair, listening to his deep-chested laughter whenever he gleefully buckled over into your lap after telling one of his hit-or-miss jokes.

The boy tensed slightly as you pulled him into a hug, though he quickly came to ease and warmth. You thanked him, because it just felt like the right thing to do for his compassion.

And then you told him something else.

“I love you.”

Without missing a heartbeat, he murmured against your hair, “I love you too.”

It was late, unreasonably late, the past-midnight late where the entire world falls still like an unperturbed pond. Downtown was completely hushed. Every so often the wind picked up, though it inevitably withered away in between the buildings and emerged a pitiful whistle onto the street. And yet, despite the fact you should be tucked in bed while the moon protected the silence in her silver hands, you were pushing outside the convenience shop with Jun close behind.

He took the end of a straw into his mouth and slurped at the sweet, cherry-flavoured slushie that was beginning to empty. Immediately, he crinkled his forehead and his face contorted.

“How many times have I said not to do that?” You laughed as he passed you the slippery cup.

“I don’t know. Three?” Jun replied with a grimace. “I can really feel it. Wait, I need a moment.”

You stopped next to the traffic post at the end of the street. Jun grabbed at his hair and squeezed like it was some miraculous remedy for curing a brain freeze. Directing the straw into your mouth, you sucked up the cherry syrup and crushed ice until you felt the distant ache thrum inside your head.

“Okay…” Jun concluded, brushing the long, black fringe from his eyes, “I’m good now.”

Thrusting the drink back into his hands, you couldn’t help but huff: “you’re such a baby.”

As though to prove your point, Jun started whining. “My head is so, so cold. It’s freezing.”

“So put this up or something.” You teased, reaching around the back of his neck to pull the boy’s hood over his head. Giggling slightly, you grinned at him as he shot you a questionable glance.

The streets remained quiet, and the sky was remarkably clear, no more than a few ragged and thin clouds drifting over the stars. The last time you had been on this corner, you were licking the strawberry sugar off your fingertips while Jun crumpled his last packet of popping candy. You remembered tracing the rose tint that warmed his lips, each fibre in your muscle twitching because you just wanted to wrap a hand through his locks and kiss him like he was your last breath.

You didn’t understand how you could love one person so much. Why love often fused itself into your bloodstream more than functionality. Your heart knew how to beat, yet it stumbled whenever you gazed at him. Your lungs knew how to filter the air, yet they closed up whenever you caught his eye. Your tongue knew how to articulate, yet it tied itself in a knot the moment he’d touch you.

“Hey,” you mumbled, patting his arm, “can I ask you something?”

Jun looked away from the stars, sipping at his drink again. He nodded.

The moon probably wanted to crush your heart in her hands for how loudly it was thumping.

“What if I told you that I want people to know we’re together? What would you say?”

Despite your anxiousness, you weren’t as afraid as you anticipated. Maybe it was because Jun didn’t immediately sour or attempt to disparage your sentiments. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking as he blinked at you, but it didn’t matter. When it was most important, Jun picked his words carefully.

“I’d tell you that I want the same thing,” he admitted, his tone deepening and the amber in his cheeks sparked with pink, “that I want people to know how I feel about you… That I’ve always been in love with you.”

You smiled wide, like a kid who just got their braces off. Unable to contain such a rapturous energy, you stepped in close to Jun and held onto his shoulders, dotting the corners of his mouth with small kisses before you pressed your lips against his. You felt him smirk, though it seemed too devious. Jun had suddenly wrapped his arms around your lower back, pushing you in chest-to-chest. You melted as he kissed you, your fingertips ghosting along the soft hairs at his nape, the moonlight on your skin.

When you arrived back at the apartment, you could hear a few of Wonwoo’s gentle snores echo from behind the bedroom door. Just before you slipped away into your own room, Jun left a goodnight kiss to the top of your head, his hand thoughtfully squeezing your hip.

“I-Isn’t it a little late for that?” Jun stumbled through his laughter. “Why do you need me?”

It was a surface-level question really, but nonetheless, your heart still skipped a beat. In only a second or more the silence was bearing down too heavily and it felt like your heart was a book with all its pages out. Jun’s eyes were twinkling as he blinked up at you.

You finally knew what you should have said.

“Because I love you.”

✧✎ a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SWEET PRINCE!! never would i have imagined that someone who’s on the opposite side of the globe could mean so much to me ;_; mr. moon has been such a healing presence, and it’s bc of him that i have found so much happiness these past five years! whenever i see him smiling and laughing and have good ol times just being himself, all my worrisome thoughts somehow fade away and i feel only joy!! 

anyways, i don’t want to ramble for too long (i could really fill a page with my cloying sentiments r.i.p) but i hope this was a wholesome fic!! the stars aligned and for once i was able to write a fic for a member’s birthday :_) 

[pressedinthepages]

Epiphany

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geralt/Eskel

Rating: T

Masterlist

a/n:  Reader Request: [Hi *waves shyly*. I have a request for you if you're up for it. How about Geralt/Eskel where Eskel gets jealous when someone flirts with Geralt? We all know book!Geralt and game! Geralt give off a 'hoe on main' vibe. Eskel hates it and Geralt needs to make it up to him? Thanks for sharing your work, it honestly makes my day every single time ❤️] I'm softe. also, I love hoe on main geralt of rivia.

Also thanks to @sometimesiwrite​ for being a soundboard and friend :)

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: language, pining, GWENT, jealousy, confessions

Eskel and Geralt meet up just before winter and run an errand.

    The fire is warm on the unscarred side of Eskel’s face. He breathes in deeply, the scent of smoke and ale tickling his senses. He’s been in Ard Carraigh for a few days now, waiting dutifully for Geralt to get here so that they can continue up to Kaer Morhen together. There’s still plenty of time for them to be able to safely travel up the mountain, but Eskel has found himself arriving earlier and earlier with each passing year. The door to the tavern swings open and Eskel glances up, his lip turning up slightly at what he finds. 

    Geralt, black hood up and dripping with rainwater, pushes the door closed behind him. He walks straight to the barkeep and orders an ale and stew before turning to where Eskel sits. Eskel’s heart blooms when their eyes finally meet, and Geralt smirks a bit as he walks to sit at the table.

    “You’re early.” Geralt’s low voice crawls over Eskel’s skin. Geralt undoes the knot on his cloak, letting it fall from his shoulders to drape over the back of his chair. His silver hair shines in the light from the fire, curled and damp from the downpour outside. 

    Eskel takes a sip from his cup as the barkeep brings Geralt’s food and drink over. “Could say the same to you, Wolf.”

    Geralt shrugs before tucking in to his supper. “Need a new horse, figured I’d pick one up while we were here.”

    Eskel tilts his head, “Something happen to Roach? You’re not one to let your mount get into trouble.”

    Geralt shakes his head, slurping noisily from his spoon. “Nah, she’s alright. She’s old, though. She deserves to rest, I figured I’ll bring her to Kaer Morhen and let her retire there with Vesemir.”

    As if Eskel’s heart could melt any further. He watches Geralt as he lifts his bowl to his lips and his throat bobs as he drinks the remainder of the broth. Geralt’s tongue swipes over his lips as he returns the now-empty bowl to the table, and Eskel is sweating inside. 

    “You got a room here?” Geralt asks, sliding an extra coin to the girl who picks up his bowl. 

    Eskel nods, downing the rest of his ale. “Mhm, only got one bed though.”

    Geralt hums before rising to his feet. “Well, come on. I know I’m exhausted, and you look like shit.”

    Eskel huffs out a laugh as he stands as well. “Well, at least I don’t look like a drowned old rat.”

    Geralt bumps their shoulders as they move to the stairs. Eskel opens up the door to their room and kicks his boots off by the door. Geralt has a routine, they all do. Eskel sits in one of the chairs and sets the fireplace alight with a gentle flick of his fingers, ready to discreetly watch Geralt get comfortable. 

    His swords go next to the bed and his boots go next to Eskel’s at the door. Geralt drapes his cloak over the back of the other chair in the room so it has a chance to dry, and his gloves go in the seat. He unties a little pouch from his belt and tosses it onto the bed where it lands with a light thunk. Eskel’s eyes follow Geralt’s fingers as they pull and undo the shiny buckles and ties. His shirt is unbuttoned as he pulls the armor off, revealing the dark thatch of hair on his chest. Geralt tucks the heavy pieces next to his boots by the door, and Eskel swallows thickly at the sight of his leather-clad backside in those damned pants. 

    Geralt stands and turns back to Eskel, his hands at the buttons of his trousers. “You gonna just sit there and watch, or you gonna help?”

Eskel’s eyes dart to his face and he flushes when he sees the smirk on his lips. Dammit, caught. Well, if nothing else, Eskel has always been good at thinking on his feet. “Seem to be doing just fine from where I’m sitting. I usually have to pay for a show like this.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and divests himself of his trousers, folding them over the back of the chair as well. “Come on, Eskel. Get in the bed.”

“You sure you don’t want to stretch out? Every time that we do this, I end up hanging on for dear life off the edge of the bed while you stretch out and snore to the Gods.”

Geralt hums as he turns to the mattress. Eskel walks up next to him and cups the back of his neck, pulling him close and resting their foreheads together. Geralt’s eyes close and Eskel just listens to the sound of their heartbeats intertwining after almost a year apart. He feels Geralt’s hand on his shoulder, his warmth seeping through the thin fabric of his shirt. “I’ve missed you, Geralt,” Eskel whispers.

“Missed you too, Eskel.” Geralt’s voice is barely audible as his nose brushes against Eskel’s. They part reluctantly and Geralt sits at the foot of the bed. Eskel slips out of his own trousers before climbing in as well. Geralt reaches for the little pouch and loosens it, flipping the contents into his hand.

“Up for a game of Gwent?”

Eskel laughs, a true laugh that is so rare on the Path. Eskel leans over in search of his pack and pulls out a pouch of his own. “You’re on.”

***

Eskel wakes to a fully dressed Geralt looming over him at the edge of the bed. “Awake yet, Princess?”

Eskel groans as he runs his hand down his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He peers out of the window and sees the sun just barely erupting from the horizon. “Why are you up so early?” 

Geralt picks up Eskel’s trousers and throws them, landing squarely in Eskel’s lap. “Need a horse. Then we can leave for Kaer Morhen.”

Eskel chuckles with a shake of his head before swinging his legs out of the bed. The floor is cold under his feet as he slides his legs into his trousers, his boots following soon after. “I’ll meet you downstairs, let me grab my stuff.”

Geralt nods and shoulders out of the door, leaving Eskel alone in the room. He gathers his things and throws his swords over his back, leaving his armor in his pack for the moment. Eskel yawns with finality and follows in Geralt’s wake down the stairs. As he reaches the bottom he sees Geralt toss him something and his hand instinctively reaches up to catch it. His fingers squish the soft pastry and the sweet smell of honey tickles his nose.

“Mmm,” Eskel hums with a smile, “a sweet bun. Thanks, Wolf.”

Geralt nods as he leads the way out of the inn. Eskel stops by the little stables at the rear to set his pack with Scorpion, trying desperately not to wake Lil’ Bleater where she slumbers between the stallion’s feet. Soon enough he trails along behind Geralt as they approach a large barn at the edge of town. 

A handsome young man smiles at them as they approach. He looks to be about thirty, with a mop of dark brown hair that flops around in the breeze. He looks strong, his shoulders wide and his hips sturdy. 

“Well met, Witchers,” the man calls as they walk up. His voice is low and rich as he introduces himself as Davold. Eskel hangs back, letting Geralt do the talking. As he observes, he notices the man dragging his eyes slowly down and back up Geralt’s body. The scent of lust in the air spikes and Eskel shifts a bit, glancing around minutely. 

“Why don’t we head inside and take a look at these horses?” Davold gestures to Geralt and allows him to go inside first. Eskel sighs and follows along. Geralt walks along the stalls, listening intently as Davold tells him about each of the horses and their personalities. Eskel listens as well, hearing each and every bawdy flirtation that spills from Davold’s lips, as well as the laughter and the pick up in heartrate in Geralt’s chest. 

Something burns in Eskel as he stands in front of a tall bay mare, something low and sour that boils in his blood. He huffs and holds his hand out flat to let the horse sniff at him. She snuffles against his hand for a moment before she butts against his chest.

“Oh no, not her,” Davold strolls over, Geralt at his heels. “She’s been nothing but trouble.”

Eskel looks back at the horse as he strokes down her nose, her ears perked up in curiosity and her body relaxed. “Doesn’t look like trouble to me.”

Geralt walks up next to Eskel and extends his hand as well, but he has a chunk of apple in his palm. The mare leans down and takes the apple gently before sniffing up his arm, looking for another treat. She looks him right in the eye before butting him in the chest as well, pulling a deep chuckle from Eskel. 

“Good find, Eskel,” Geralt murmurs, scritching up the side of the horse’s neck. “We’ll take her.”

A deal is struck and before Eskel knows it they are leaving the stables with the new Roach in tow, Davold scowling in the background. The two of them return to the inn to collect the other horses and as they enter the stables, Eskel can’t help the sigh of relief that falls from his chest. 

“Something wrong?” Geralt asks as he carries his saddle to New Roach. Eskel grits his teeth as he throws a blanket over Scorpion’s back. 

“No, I just-” Eskel thinks over his words, “That Davold was really trying for you, huh?”

Geralt pokes his head around and gives Eskel a look that can only be described as several question marks in sequence. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me you didn’t notice it.” Eskel rolls his eyes as he sets the saddle on Scorpion’s back. “He could barely keep it in his pants.”

“Hmm.”

Eskel does up the straps and secures his pack neatly across Scorpion. As he ties everything down, his mind wanders. I could never be enough for him, he deserves someone who could really be there for him, not someone like me. 

“It doesn’t matter if I noticed or not,” Geralt rumbles from somewhere behind him. “I wouldn’t have been interested. Got someone else in mind.”

Eskel hums as his mind spins in wheels, a delicate spiral that will leave him curled up and alone for a good few days once they get to the keep. He can feel himself receding into his mind, setting up walls and barriers for any and all who come knocking.

And suddenly Geralt’s hand is on his shoulder, and he’s turning around, and Geralt is in his space, his face impossibly close, and he smells so good, and his mouth is right there…

And then Geralt kisses him. Geralt kisses Eskel, and the world comes to a halt. Geralt’s hands fall to Eskel’s waist and squeeze him, and Eskel reaches his hands up to cup Geralt’s face. He is so warm beneath Eskel’s fingers, and his lips taste like honey and hay and every drop of happiness that Eskel has ever felt. 

Geralt pulls back first, his golden eyes searching Eskel’s. “I-I have loved you for so long.”

Eskel’s chest feels full to burst and he doesn’t trust his words at all, so he just pulls Geralt back to him. It’s all tongue and teeth and desperation and Eskel wouldn’t change it for the world. His fingers trail up into Geralt’s hair and the moan that falls from his chest would make a priestess blush. Eskel leans back only far enough for a breath, resting their foreheads together once more.

“You let me pine after you for decades, Geralt,” Eskel whispers, painfully aware of how vulnerable he sounds. 

“I didn’t know. I figured you just thought of us as friends, but-” Geralt’s voice is so low and husky that Eskel can feel it in his skin, “-but I’ve figured it out. It took a while, but I figured it out.”

Eskel smiles and presses their lips together again, ignoring how his scar stretches with the movement. “I hope you plan on making it up to me.”

Geralt smiles, big and rare and just for him, “Gladly.”

[alkae]

Little Criminals

“Hugo?”

Hugo jolted awake at the sound of his boyfriend calling him from the other side of the library. “Huh, what?”

He glanced around, glasses askew on his face and quickly righted them. “Vari? Darling?”

“Over here, Hugh!”

Hugo looked to his left and saw Varian carrying a large stack of books that was so high that he couldn’t see his face. And that couldn’t happen. Hugo stood and took some of the books from him. “Thank you, my sweet,” Varian said gratefully. With the excess books gone, Hugo noticed an addition to his boyfriend: Ruddiger the raccoon, curled up on his boyfriend’s neck. The second the two made eye contact, they glared at each other.

Neither were particularly fond of one another. Both got a lot of Varian’s attention, so naturally there was animosity between them whenever one of them got said attention.

“Hugh?”

Hugo turned his attention away from the raccoon and instead focused on his lovely boyfriend. “Yes, Hummingbird?”

“I’m going out for the day. Corona is in desperate need of their royal engineer. Something happened with the hot water machines, I think. Eugene probably used the water all up again.” Varian laughed. “He does that. A lot.”

Hugo’s face soured. He wasn’t particularly fond of “Eugene” either. He knew him as Flynn Ryder and the guy was a hack. “Well, you’d better get on that Vari. Don’t want his majesty to get pissy about taking a cold shower. How will he ever cope?”

Varian laughed and nudged Hugo lightly. “Don’t be mean. You’d be equally upset if the same happened to you.” He set the books on the table and Hugo followed suit. Ruddiger continued to glare at him from Varian’s shoulder. Hugo glared back. Stupid raccoon. Wait, Varian was still talking. “...need you to watch Ruddiger.”

What. “What?”

“Oh, well, I don’t want Ruddiger near the machines if they’re unstable. Wouldn’t want him getting hurt right?”

“Yes. That would be a shame,” Hugo replied dryly.

Varian glared at him. “Anyway, he’s going to stay with you, here. Make sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.” He leveled his glare at both Hugo and Ruddiger. “Both of you. Please don’t break or touch anything when I’m gone.” Now he just glared at Hugo. “I don’t want a repeat of last time.”

Last time was when Hugo moved one of Varian’s experiments, resulting in a pretty nasty explosion. Varian had yelled at Hugo for some time and Ruddiger had watched, amused, in the background. Smug bastard.

“Don’t worry, Var Bear.” He always warmed up when Hugo used a nickname. “There will be no incidents this time. I promise.” He smiled in what he hoped was a charming grin. “Relax. I’ve got this.”

Varian looked uncertain for a second before he softened and kissed Hugo, gently and chastely. “I’ll hopefully be back soon.” He took Ruddiger off of his shoulders and held him out for Hugo to take. Both’s stare was as if the other was a venomous viper. But, just to make his little alchemist happy, Hugo reached over and took him, holding the raccoon under its arms and dangling it in the air. Varian made an unhappy noise. “He’s not a doll, sweetheart.”

Hugo plopped Ruddiger down on the table. The raccoon chittered angrily at him. “There. Happy?”

Varian huffed. “Please be nice to each other. For me, okay?” His gaze was so sweet and innocent that Hugo couldn’t help but give in. He had grown weak.

He kissed Varian again. He could feel Varian smiling. “Anything for you,” he said.

Varian pulled away. “I have to go now. Goodbye, my Golden Dove.”

“Goodbye, my Hummingbird.”

Hugo watched as Varian packed up his stuff and waved goodbye as he disappeared through the gold doors leading to the outside world. A world Hugo hardly visited of his own volition anymore. He was gone for all of two minutes before there was a crash. Hugo turned to see Ruddiger rummaging through their food crates. “Raccoon!” Hugo snapped. “Get out of there.” When Varian realized that he and Hugo would be spending most of their time in the Eternal Library, he had filled several crates with food and stocked up on apples for Ruddiger. But he told Hugo that the apples were for special occasions.

“I don’t want him to eat all the apples,” Varian had said. “He needs to leave some for us, right?”

So of course, when Hugo saw said raccoon rummaging through the food crates, he responded kind of negatively. He rushed over to the crates and plucked Ruddiger out of them. “You’re not allowed to have any.” Hugo stomped away and set him down not too gently. In response, Ruddiger chittered at him in annoyance.

“Come on, raccoon, there has to be something for you to do that isn’t eating our resources.” He shooed him away. “Now get.”

Ruddiger shot him one last glare before vanishing around the shelves. Hugo huffed and leaned against the table. “Good. Let’s hope he stays out of trouble so I don’t have to deal with him,” he muttered to himself. He pushed off the table and stalked off, thinking that he would have the day to himself. After all, he reasoned, Ruddiger was smart for a raccoon. Surely he wouldn’t be that much trouble.

An hour later, Hugo was roaming one of the aisles. It was the spell section, which is probably where Ulla got all of her information on possession and tying yourself to a library for 20 years.

He wasn’t really looking for anything, simply in the aisle for browsing. He slid one book with a silvery green cover off the shelf and opened it to a random page. Lucky for him, he was able to read most languages but sometimes he’d come across something that completely stumped him and caused him to call for Varian.

This was not one of those times. He could easily decipher the text and identify it as Saporian. They did have a memory wand so it wasn’t surprising that they had an entire spellbook written. He flipped through the book halfheartedly, eyes glazed. He could never find a spell that actually intrigued him enough to use it. Plus, Varian would kill him.

Unfortunately, Varian wasn’t there that day.

Hugo landed on a page where the top read “A spell for removing pests.” His eyes moved across the words, saving it to his memory. Just in case. It said it would take the pest to another location, somewhere not near where the user was. He was about to read more when suddenly, he felt a weight on his shoulder and grunted as Ruddiger launched off of him to jump onto the bookshelf across from him. “Raccoon!” he exclaimed. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. What do you even want?”

Ruddiger didn’t answer, simply nestling in a spot above a row of books, resting his head on his paws. Hugo glowered at him.

“Raccoon, those are incredibly old and important books. You can’t just use them as a bed,” Hugo scolded.

The look he got was one of skepticism. He suddenly was reminded of the time he used a book as a coaster. He felt his cheeks heat up slightly. “That was one time! Plus, the book was fine.”

The look didn’t go away. He felt his annoyance rise. “Okay. If you’re the epitome of sainthood, you would stop digging through the apples when Varian tells you not to.”

Now Ruddiger looked embarrassed. Hugo grew smug. “Thought so. Now, if you would please extract yourself from my premise and find another place to sleep, that would be nice.” Ruddiger’s embarrassment replaced itself with agitation. He chittered at Hugo, who rolled his eyes. “I don’t care if you normally sleep here. I’m here now, which, therefore, means you can’t sleep here.”

In response, Ruddiger stood as much as he could crammed in between the books and the shelf and knocked one of the books to the ground. Hugo stared at it. “You did not just do that.”

Ruddiger’s next chitter was gleeful. The sadistic little cretin. Another book fell. “Stop that, raccoon!” 2 more books this time. “Raccoon, you better stop this right now or… or…” No threats came to his mind.

Ruddiger chittered. It sounded like he was saying, “Or what?”

Hugo looked around. What could he do for a punishment. His eye caught the book in his hand that he left open to the spell that removed pests. He scanned it again. “Or I’ll remove you! You pest.”

Ruddiger made a movement that was clearly mocking. How dare he mock Hugo? “Fine! You asked for it!”

In hindsight, Hugo wasn’t using his head. He was annoyed and aggravated and he hadn’t read the page fully. He thought the spell was going to take Ruddiger to another part of the library. He thought it would be completely harmless.

When he read the words, he felt the air around him thicken and, despite the lack of open windows in the library, his hair began to blow like there was wind. Ruddiger’s eyes widened as a glowy pink portal opened to the right of him, growing to about the size of Hugo. Hugo stopped speaking when he saw the portal. “Wait! Shit! Go back, go back.” But it was too late. The suction of the portal was too strong and Ruddiger had little to no grip on the shelf. Hugo watched in horror as the portal pulled the raccoon in and promptly vanished without a trace.

He stared at the place where the portal was and then at where Ruddiger had just sat. Then he said, “Fuck.”

He ran around the library calling for Ruddiger, desperately clinging to the hope that he was just in another part of the library.

After 20 minutes of screaming “Raccoon!”, Hugo admitted to himself that Ruddiger wasn’t there and sank to the ground. His panic caused him to continue holding the book in his hand, clutching to it like it was a precious jewel. He sat against the shelf and tried to steady his breathing.

Varian was going to kill him. Varian was going to break up with him if he came back and found out that his raccoon, his best friend, was missing.

Hugo had to get him back. He couldn’t lose the best thing that ever happened to him because of a stupid mistake.

“It’s okay Hugo,” he murmured to himself. “It’s gonna be okay. Deep breaths.” He inhaled deeply, exhaling through the nose. “Alright. Okay. Let’s figure this out. How do I get the raccoon back?”

Something silvery caught his eye. He looked down and gasped. “Stupid Hugo! Of course! The book!” He flipped it open and quickly found the page. He read it outloud. “Warning: if you aren’t careful, you’ll be sucked into the portal as well. Note that the spell is only temporary if the pest is close to where the portal first opened and if it’s undone within 2 hours.” Well. That was just fantastic. “If you wish to undo the spell, say these words. If the pest is not close to the portal, it may be possible to journey into the portal while keeping it open. Such a thing has never been done before.” Then a crossed out word. Hugo squinted and adjusted his glasses. “Impossible? No, no no no. I will make it possible.”

He quickly set to work making a machine that pulled him out of the portal when he needed to leave while simultaneously keeping it open. He went back to where Ruddiger first disappeared and reread the spell. The portal reopened and Hugo wrapped the rope connected to the machine around his waist. He took a deep breath.

“This is for Varian,” he muttered to himself. He leapt in.

The place was basically a junkyard.

Things, random objects, were strewn everywhere. There were also creatures of varying size and color, some bugs, some mammals like Ruddiger. “This place is massive,” Hugo said out loud. “How am I ever going to find that raccoon?”

A low growl surprised him and he turned to see a full sized dinosaur prowling around the junkyard land. His jaw dropped. “No fucking way.” Why was there a dinosaur in here? He watched, stunned, as it glanced around, uninterestedly, and then clomped off. He released a gasp of air. “Alright, I need to get that raccoon, now.”

He untied the rope and then retied it around a particularly heavy object so it wouldn’t go anywhere. Then, he took out the spellbook he decided to bring with him, just in case, and tried to search for a searching spell. Hugo figured that there must be one somewhere. After all, there was this spell, which caused nothing but trouble for Hugo.

There! A spell for finding. He skimmed it and then read it, quietly, so as not to summon the dinosaur. A glowing gray beacon rose in the air, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, and began to float away. Hugo followed it, stepping over broken pieces of metal and junk. He glanced around at the world, hoping he didn’t spot a human. That would be awful. It was already bad that he saw animals that looked like pets. He didn’t need to see a child or something.

That brought another question out of him: did time pass at all in here? Because there were dinosaurs, living breathing dinosaurs, here. So time must not pass.

Wow. What an intriguing spell. If he wasn’t so annoyed by it, he’d be fascinated.

He began to call for Ruddiger, but he kept his voice quiet. And he called Ruddiger “raccoon”, which probably didn’t inspire Ruddiger to come out.

There was a rustling to his left. He and the beacon stopped and he turned. Lo and behold, scurrying out of a pile of trash, there was Ruddiger, holding an apple in his paws. Hugo was both relieved and annoyed. “There you are! You’re coming with me, raccoon.”

Ruddiger glared at him. He didn’t say anything and he didn’t need to. His point was clear. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry I sucked you into a portal. Happy?”

Ruddiger shook his head. “I won’t suck you in another one. And, uh you can have apples when we get back.” Ruddiger pointedly showed Hugo his own apple. “I know, I know. But come on, isn’t an apple from Varian better than some random apple?”

The expression on his face clearly stated that he didn’t care either way. Hugo huffed. “What will it take you to come back, raccoon?”

‘Leave,’ is what Ruddiger’s face said.

Hugo threw his hands up. “You’re impossible. I’m not leaving Varian. You’re gonna have to get used to my presence.”

‘I’m not leaving either,’ Ruddiger seemed to reply.

The two glared at each other. “Raccoon,” Hugo said slowly. “I will drag you back home if I have to.”

Before Ruddiger could react, a screech interrupted their staring contest. They looked up to see a real life pterodactyl or some other flying dinosaur circling them. Even though Hugo couldn’t see that far up, he could tell that he was aiming for Ruddiger.

He wouldn’t let that prehistoric bastard get him.

So when the dinosaur bolted down to grab at him, Hugo pushed Ruddiger back into hiding and felt sharp claws latch around his waist. He was lifted into the air and he saw Ruddiger peek up at him from his hiding place. “Run!” he screamed to Ruddiger. “Go to the portal!”

If both of them couldn’t make it back, at least one of them should. For Varian. Hugo closed his eyes as the dinosaur took him away to some cave. He wished that he could see Varian again before he was eaten. What he wouldn’t give to redo everything that he did.

As he was dropped into a nest, he realized with shocking clarity how big of a brat he was. All it took was being abducted by a dinosaur to make him see that this was all him. He put his face in his hands. Look at me, he thought miserably. Ready to be eaten by a supposedly extinct creature because I was jealous of a raccoon.

The dinosaur surprisingly didn’t eat him immediately. Instead, it decided to go out hunting again, probably looking for Ruddiger. Hugo curled into a ball. How would he escape? Even if he did leave the cave, he had no idea where he was. And he dropped the spellbook during his flight. Maybe this place was like a circle. Maybe he could get out easily.

He wished he wasn’t so jealous. He wished he realized that Varian had a big heart. He wished he wasn’t so horrible to Ruddiger.

There was a chitter to his left. “Oh great, now I’m going insane,” he muttered. Something hard smacked into the side of his head. “Ow! Hey!” He turned and saw Ruddiger, clutching the spellbook and looking up at him with big round eyes.

He was shocked. “Raccoon? You came back for me?”

Ruddiger shrugged. Hugo decided to take it. “Thank you.” Ruddiger tilted his head in a flippant gesture. “No really. Thank you. You know, I think that all this time, we’ve just been misunderstanding each other and we should-” He cut off when he caught Ruddiger’s annoyed face. “Yeah, you’re right. We should go.”

He stood and Ruddiger made his way onto his shoulders. He decided not to complain about this. While they were heading to the exit, a low growl stopped them. “Shit.” The dinosaur was back. Hugo and Ruddiger exchanged a look. How were they going to get the dinosaur away from them? Hugo hid along the wall and thought to himself. There was nothing in the cave but bones, which was incredibly troubling. He didn’t think to bring his alchemy belt with him.

Ruddiger tapped his neck. He glanced over at him and saw him pointing to the spell book. That’s right! But they had to be smart about this. He couldn’t just spit out spells willy nilly. Ruddiger signaled his plan to Hugo quickly: he would distract the dinosaur while Hugo searched for the right spell to get the dinosaur permanently off their back.

“Will you be alright, though?” Hugo whispered. Ruddiger’s face said he was hopeful yet unsure. Hugo took a deep breath in. “Alright. Just… be safe okay? If not for me then for Varian.”

Ruddiger nodded in affirmation. This was for Varian.

Ruddiger scampered off as Hugo hid behind a rock. The dinosaur crawled back into the cave and scanned the room. When he didn’t see his dinner, he roared and hit the wall, causing the cave to rumble. Hugo stumbled and he opened the spell book. What spell would beat a dinosaur?

As he searched, he heard Ruddiger distracting the dinosaur. Or at least he thought it was Ruddiger. He heard something spit and then the dinosaur roar louder. Just that caused the cave to shake. He flipped through the book as Ruddiger led the dinosaur around the cave.

Teleportation spell… no, because what if Ruddiger was teleported with the dinosaur? Deaging spell? Maybe. But it would take awhile and they might not have awhile.

He landed on the spell that caused him so much trouble in the past. He groaned. No, this wouldn’t help him at all.

The second he went to turn the page, there was a huge slamming noise that caused him to turn. He saw the dinosaur with a wiggling Ruddiger in its claws.

He acted on instinct. He ran out of his hiding place, picked up a rock and threw it as hard as he could at the dinosaur. Hugo was never the strongest person. He was flexible and clever and intelligent but in a heated brawl, he would always come out on the bottom.

But he couldn’t just watch Varian’s first and closest friend be eaten.

The dinosaur turned, growling low. Hugo mustered up all the bravery he learned from Varian and screamed, “Drop him you overgrown, extinct, prehistoric bird creature!”

Of course the dinosaur didn’t drop him but it was very intrigued by Hugo. It eyed him as Hugo tried to stand his ground. He didn’t know if he could distract him enough to read the spell he was on: the spell that got them into this mess.

He had caught the words underneath the spell that said that the world generated was randomized each time. The only reason he got the world Ruddiger was in was because he specialized the portal. If he could summon the spell again, he could suck the dinosaur into the portal. Hugo picked up another rock and aimed it at the claw that held Ruddiger. “Put him down!” he repeated.

The dinosaur did, in fact, put him down. However, it wasn’t in surrender. Hugo was simply a bigger, tastier dinner in its eyes. Ruddiger disappeared out of view as Hugo backed up to avoid the dinosaur. He needed time to read.

And that wonderful raccoon gave him that chance as an apple splattered onto the dinosaur’s eye. Coming from experience, juice in the eye wasn’t pleasant. The dinosaur screeched and reared back. Hugo looked around and saw Ruddiger hurrying over to him and leaping onto his shoulders. He took the chance and, in a loud, confident voice, he read the spell.

The portal was huge and the two watched as the dinosaur grabbed at the ground to hold his place. But it was no use; the dinosaur was sucked into the portal and vanished from sight.

They were silent for all of 2 seconds before Hugo whooped. “He’s gone! We did it, Ruddiger!” He swung him around in celebration, book tucked under his arm. Then he remembered himself and put him back on his shoulders, clearing his throat. “Uh, thank you. Really. For saving me back there.”

Ruddiger patted his face as if to say ‘thank you, too.’ Hugo smiled despite himself. “We’ll call it even. Now how about we get out of here?”

Hugo was grateful that he tied the rope to a big hunk of junk because it hadn’t moved an inch since he left it there.

The two exited the portal, Ruddiger clinging to Hugo’s neck. They were more or less spit out and Hugo collided with the machine, breaking it. In response, Hugo broke it further. “Let’s hope we never have to use that again,” he said to Ruddiger. Ruddiger chittered in agreement.

In a show of comradery, Hugo snuck Ruddiger an apple from the crate and one for himself too. “If Varian asks, I ate both.” He winked.

When Varian returned,the two relaxing on a chair at a desk, Ruddiger curled up on Hugo. “Vari!”

“Hugh!” Varian leaned over Ruddiger’s now awake form to press a kiss to his boyfriend’s lips. “How was today? Did you two have fun?” Ruddiger crawled up onto Varian’s neck.

Hugo repressed a smile. “We had tons of fun.” He shared a look with Ruddiger.

Varian beamed. “I’m so glad you two are getting along.” He kissed Hugo again. “Thank you for watching him today. I’m so grateful.”

Hugo released his smile. “You’re very welcome, my dear.”

Varian sighed. “Now. I could go for a treat after the day I had.” He took Hugo’s hand and helped him stand. “Who wants an apple?”

[softyoongiionly]

🍬Sour Skittles 🍬

WELCOME TO GLASSCLAW! The only city where you can get a homecooked meal and a hitman all on the same street! You moved to GlassClaw for a fresh start after a group of raiders invaded your previous compound. Unbeknownst to you, the city has its own collection of riff raff and, at the head of it all is your neighbor Min Yoongi. The mischevious merchant with one hell of a sailor mouth is known for swindling the rich and, serving the poor. The world has become convoluted and chaotic since the apocalypse but, two things were certain: You were so much more than pretty face and, Yoongi was so much more than just a thief.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Dystopian Au, RobinHood! Yoongi, smut, fluff, minor angst, post apocalyptic au.

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: Hellllloooo! This series will be posted in parts with some being longer than others. I’m not entirely sure what direction this story is going to take, I just know it’s going to be a good time. Let me know what you think! Love you!

1.

Your neighbor Yoongi is the worst.

Plain and simple.

He’s the fucking worst.

You moved to Glassclaw, expecting a new start but, in all honesty, the happenings in this grimy metropolitan city were no better than your previous raider-ridden compound.

The apocalypse occurred 10 years ago on this very day and, the world as you knew it was just beginning to pull itself out of the clutches of destruction.

However, with no international government and, no real sense of order, the world operated largely on chaos and crime. Clans of raiders destroyed entire cities, much like the one you had just come from, and gangs ruled the inner cities whilst religious cults seemed to dominate the more rural areas.

Everything was a mess.

Glassclaw wasn’t exactly the most dangerous of the inner cities but, it certainly wasn’t squeaky clean. The city was run by a business called ‘AstroLex’, which essentially was a group of wealthy men hell-bent on colonizing Mars. A noble effort aside from the fact that AstroLex gets their funding by taking nearly 70% of GlassClaw’s working wages.  Because of this, most of Glassclaw’s inhabitants live far below the poverty line and, often rely on ‘other’ means to supplement their income.

The Underground is a market that developed in some of the city’s seedier areas where desperate citizens could go to receive work or, receive stolen goods. The Underground also provided access to things that were forbidden by AstroLex such as drugs, alcohol, pornography and, gambling.

Rumor has it, that your neighbor, Yoongi, works for the Underground as a procurer of stolen goods but, he has yet to be caught by the authorities.

Yoongi, as you’ve mentioned, is the worst. He’s constantly bumping into you without apologizing and, leaving his dirty boots strewn all over the shared patio between your apartments and, blasting his music so loud that it literally shakes the unstable walls of your bedroom.

The latter of which, he is doing right this very second.

It’s 3am.

He’s been blasting Eminem for the past 4 hours and, you’re currently thinking of all the expletives you want to scream in his face.

You have yet to fall asleep for more than 20 minutes because, the bass keeps shaking your bed.

Enough is enough.

Adjusting the purple sleep shorts you had on, you drag yourself out of bed, irritation simmering beneath your skin as you march out of your apartment and, over to Yoongi’s door.

The air outside is still sticky with the remaining humidity from the hot summer day and, you groan to yourself as you feel your neck already growing sweaty.

“Yoongi!” Your voice is sharp and, barely carries above the music, your hand pounding against the graffiti-covered door.

Seconds pass before the music completely cuts off.  You hear the faint sound of shuffling before the door creaks open.

Yoongi peeks his head out, minty hair disheveled on his head, eyes half open in an attempt to look sleepy, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he lets out a loud yawn.

“Do you know what time it is? Why are you yelling” He grumbles, leaning against the doorframe.

You try to ignore the fact that he’s not wearing a shirt and, choose instead to reinforce the irritation in your voice, “Do YOU know what time it is?”

He lifts up one of his tattooed arms, pretending to look at a watch that clearly wasn’t there, mischief in his eyes, “Hm, I think my watch is broken but, I don’t really pay attention to the time when I’m sleeping which is what I’d like to get back to doing if you don’t mind…”

Your blood boils, “Do you honestly expect me to believe you were sleeping through the music you were just blasting?”

Yoongi cocks his head, a pierced ear tilted in the direction of his apartment, his eyes narrowing in confusion, “Music? What music? I don’t hear anything…”

“Oh my god, I’m not doing this with you. Just please leave it off for the night ok? I’m trying to sleep…”

Yoongi’s confusion doesn’t wane and, neither does the glint in his eyes, “I was trying to sleep too until you came and started banging on my door so, to be honest, this kind of feels like your fault…”

Your eyes widen in disbelief and, it takes everything in Yoongi not to laugh. Instead he speaks again, his hand extending to pat your shoulder, smooth, pink lips pouted slightly, “Don’t worry though, I forgive you. We all make mistakes, it’s important to learn from them and, move on…”

Shoving his hand off of your shoulder, you allow your anger to bubble over, “It’s also important for you to know that if you turn your music on again, I’m setting your boots on fire and, throwing them through your window…”

Yoongi snickers, “That’s arson and attempted murder, you’d put be put away a long time for that you know…”

“At least when I’m in prison, I’ll get a good night’s sleep…” You retort, crossing your arms, brows rising in defiance.

He smirks, eyes glancing down at your sleep shorts,  “You’d get eaten alive in prison, princess…”

Rolling your eyes, you step away from his door frame, throwing a pointed look his way, “I’d manage just fine. Leave your music off, I’m going back to bed, don’t make me knock on your door again…”

Yoongi chuckles, eyes scanning over you fondly, “Sweet dreams…”

His laughter increases as you throw a middle finger his way, not even bothering to look back at him.

Yoongi runs a hand through his minty green hair, trying to contain the smile that’s still lingering on his mouth.

Despite your obvious hatred towards him, Yoongi kind of has a thing for you. He thinks you’re pretty cute, especially when you were all riled up.

At the slam of your door, he chuckles again, shaking his head as he slips back into his apartment.

“That girl is gonna kill you one of these days…”

Namjoon, Yoongi’s roommate is sat on the couch, eyes glued to the pages of his book, observing him sagely.

Yoongi shrugs, eyes flitting to the window, a smirk still lingering on his lips, “Nah, I think I could take her, she’s got one hell of a mouth on her though…”

“You know Hyung, there are other ways of getting a woman’s attention…” Namjoon offers, regarding Yoongi through his glasses.

Yoongi’s smirk returns in full force, grabbing an apple from the bowl on the counter, “I have her attention Namjoon, that’s really all I want at this point. She’s a lot of fun…”

“Don’t you like her though?”

At Namjoon’s question, Yoongi’s heart sinks a little but, he ignores it and, sends a pointed look towards his brother, “The only person I like is you,” He takes a bite out of his apple, mouth full as he continues taking, “Go to bed, its late. I’ll be in my room if you need me…Goodnight.”

Namjoon closes his book, biting his lip in curiosity as he watches Yoongi slip into his bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

“Goodnight.”

[drtoaster]

RULES: tag ten followers you want to know better!

TAGGED BY: @theycallmekaibara​ (thanks man!)

TAGGING: @napsoldier @rogue-knifehead @thebloodofosiris @dimensionalguardian (I’m too lazy to do ten so feel free to steal)

NAME: Jakob (it finally occurred to me that anyone who actually wanted to know this could probably find it on here anyway so fuck it.) STAR SIGN: Cancer HEIGHT: 5′7″ (I think it’s been a while so it could be 5′8″ by now) WHAT’S YOUR MIDDLE NAME? - I don’t gots one lmao. It was gonna be Henry at one point apparently.

PUT YOUR ITUNES SPOTIFY ON SHUFFLE. WHAT ARE THE FIRST 4 SONGS THAT POPPED UP? Apple stuff is overpriced and I don’t like Spotify so I’m going to scroll round in my saved music and pick four at random.

Foster The People-Pumped up kicks

The White Stripes- Seven Nation Army.

Caravan Palace-Rock It For Me

Theme song from Gigantor (I fucking love Gigantor)

GRAB THE BOOK NEAREST YOU AND TURN TO PAGE 23. WHAT’S LINE 17? “Roasted hazelnuts added a rich aroma to the smells wafting around them.”

EVER HAD A POEM OR SONG WRITTEN ABOUT YOU? I hope not.

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU PLAYED AIR GUITAR? I can’t remember.

WHO IS YOUR CELEBRITY CRUSH? I don’t really do celebrity stuff.  Does Rtas Vadam from Halo count? I’d have a piece of that.

WHAT’S A SOUND YOU HATE + SOUND YOU LOVE?

HATE: That fucking quiz show my grandma watches every fucking afternoon with the volume turned up to twenty fucktillion decibels.

LOVE: Thunderstorms.

DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS? Nah. I don’t have anything against people who do because I have seen weird shit happen but I think there’s better explanations.(Except for poltergeists. Even I can’t make head nor tail of what’s going on there.)

HOW ABOUT ALIENS? Those fuckers better exist and they better be hot. 

DO YOU DRIVE? I wish.

IF SO, HAVE YOU EVER CRASHED? I mean mentally and physically yes, but never a car.

WHAT WAS THE LAST BOOK YOU READ? I legit can’t remember the last time I read anything that wasn’t for university. I’d guess probably one of the Edge Chronicles books or maybe The ocean at the end of the lane?

DO YOU LIKE THE SMELL OF GASOLINE? Sorta I guess.

WHAT WAS THE LAST MOVIE YOU SAW? Deadpool 2

WHAT’S THE WORST INJURY YOU’VE EVER HAD? I’ve never actually had any super bad injuries. The worst is probably a twisted ankle but that’s not every interesting, so I’ll share a funny one instead. 

So as a kid I was home educated, and my mum was always worried I didn’t socialise enough so she’d take me to this group for home educated kids in the area called ‘Magical Mondays��� (muffled retching noises on my part). Now one day the parents arranged a Halloween ‘party’ at one of the parent’s houses. 

The family in question was one of the really hippy-dippy ones that went to the group and, unfortunately, this meant the halloween ‘party’ was more of accurately just standing around in the dark on my part because I didn’t want to sing daft hippy campfire songs about the ‘Earth Mother’ (Not exaggerating here by the way that’s genuinely along the lines of what was going on. I just wanted to be at home playing with my Bionicles not singing about feeling Mother Earth under my feet). They didn’t even have any candy or Halloween party games. Not even a game of in-the-dark hide and seek.

 What they did have was a spooky story however. I can’t remember the exact details but it was to do with some wolf-man in the local area that stalked the fields and woods surrounding the area at night. Being slightly sceptical of the supernatural even at a young age I kinda just figured it was a story to scare kids, and thought nothing of it when they suggested we go the field at the back of the property to see if we could spot him. I figured the parents would play pretend that they’d spotted him in the distant bushes just to wind us up a bit. What I wasn’t expecting, was legitimate roaring to ring out from the field, and a figure with a pair of glowing red eyes to suddenly rear out of the tall grass shrieking at us.

Of course, I metaphorically shit myself and bolted.

Now here lies the problem: I have been cripplingly short sighted since birth. I can’t see an object clearly without my glasses unless it’s about four inches away, and horror movie style vampires in my younger self’s opinion, were markedly less spooky with glasses, and so mine were left at home. Ironically, this left me blind as a bat, and combined with the fact it was already dark, I couldn’t see jack as I ran away in panic with all the other kids, disaster was assured.

I ran head first into a metal pole that was concreted into the ground, for use as a laundry line. There was actually and audible clang as I ran into it, loud enough to make most of the parents stop their charade because of a collective “Wtf was that noise” moment. Of course dad found me on my ass in tears by the pole and was able to get me up off the ground and check me over. It turns out the horrifying wolf man in the field was one of the other dads holding two red glowsticks. 

Needless to say my mood was sour for the rest of the evening, further embittered by the continuing lack of sweets or anything actually fun to do. I’m pretty sure this was a major contributor to my slight dislike of Halloween.

DO YOU HAVE ANY OBSESSIONS RIGHT NOW? Uhh I dunno I kinda obsesses about a lot of stuff. Gundam, Gigantor, Exoman, Bionicle, Halo, the list goes on. I think the only material thing I’m sorta obsessed with is this kinda neat mech figure I sorta wanted but talked myself out of (too much money and I should be saving, etc). But yeah other than the usual dumb shit I’m not really ‘obsessing’ over anything.

DO YOU TEND TO HOLD GRUDGES AGAINST PEOPLE WHO HAVE DONE YOU WRONG?Oh god yeah I’m a petty mf. 

IN A RELATIONSHIP?

Single pringle.

[imitranslates]

Honjitsu no Kami Oroshi Ch. 1

New series I’ve decided to translate on a whim. I’ll be playing catch-up as the 3rd chapter comes out tomorrow, but this series will be translated on a more relaxed schedule when I do get caught up, prob within 1-2 weeks of the release. This won’t affect my Mononokean translations, so no worries.

Honjitsu no Kami Oroshi (or, “Today’s Divine Revelation,” as I’ve decided to translate it) is a slice of life-y/cooking manga by Yata Midori that just started serialization in Gangan Online last month. In it, established author Takatsuki Ryuunosuke hires his younger brother, Rintarou, to cook menus inspired by literary works in order to spark his ideas!

You can read the first chapter at http://www.ganganonline.com/contents/honzitsu/ by clicking “[1話] 赤毛のアン“  in the chapter listing!

Today's Divine Revelation Chapter 1 – Anne of Green Gables

Page 1

[Raspberry cordial, two types of cookies, fruit and nut pound cake,]

[A layer cake, and cherry pie.]

[This is

The divine revelation menu for entering the world of "Anne of Green Gables."]

Page 4

Ryuunosuke: Haa...

No ideas are coming to me...

Ryuu: How...

Ryuu: Many days ago did I last leave the house, again...?

Page 5

Woman: Eh?

You ended up firing that kid?

Man: No...

When I told him, "You should serve customers with more of a smile," he told me he couldn't...

Man: He said, "If it's going to be an issue, I'll quit."

Woman2: How inflexible!!!

Woman: He always had a sour look on his face, didn't he.

High school students should act more carefree.

Woman2: But, he was such a diligent worker. It's a shame.

What was his name again... Takasugi-kun?

Man: Takatsuki.

Page 6

Man: Takatsuki Rintarou-kun.

[This job wasn't any good either...]

Rintarou: (I thought I'd be able to manage if it was a bookstore...

Well...)

Rin: (The bookstore worker...

Said it was part of customer service. [But it's impossible])

Ryuu: Wha?

Page 7

Ryuu: What, now?

You ended up fired at another job!?

Rin: That's bad manners, Ryuunosuke.

Don't stand up while we're having a meal.

And don't point your chopsticks at people.

Rin: Lastly, a grain of rice! It's stuck to your face.

Ryuu: Ah, sorry.

Ryuu: ...That said, you shouldn't just call me by my name like that. I'm still your big brother, you know.

Rin: I didn't technically get fired.

Rin: I wasn't able to fulfill my employer's demands, so I quit.

Ryuu: Demands?

Rin: .......

Rin: A smile.

Page 8

Ryuu: (Bahaha!) That...

Ryuu: That was the demand...!?

Rin: ...

Ryuu: You can at least smile, can't you!?

Rin: Impossible.

I can't give one of those fake smiles.

But... Selfishly saying "I can't" at work is also unforgivable.

Rin: Therefore, I quit.

It was totally logical!!

Ryuu: How strict!!!

Ryuu: You're so strict, or should I say stubborn!

Ryuu: Are you really my younger brother...?

Ryuu: In the first place, why did you suddenly start looking for a part-time job?

Page 9

Rin:......

No real reason.

Rin: I just thought I should earn my own spending money since I'm a high school student, now.

Rin: Unlike my older bro, who's a shut-in with no talent for normal work.

Ryuu: !

Ryuu: Hey, hold up.

Ryuu: You know I'm a novelist!

Since my workplace is at home, it's not like I'm shutting myself in!

Rin: How many days has it been since you left the house?

Ryuu: If you're gonna say it like that...

Ryuu: Two weeks...?

Rin: Then you're a real shut-in, aren't you!?

Go outside a little! Don't you know your legs are gonna degenerate!?

Ryuu: No way!!

If there's nothing I have to do, there's no way I'm leaving the house!

Page 10

Ryuu: I hate the cold and stifling feeling of the outside world.

Society is overflowing with facades and fabrications.

Ryuu: Unending desires in transient abundance, false love...

The state of all those things wounds my heart.

Ryuu: That's why I've decided...

"I'll do my best not to leave the house."

Rin: Are you a hermit?

Ryuu: I have no discomfort. For I have the wings called "imagination"!

With these wings, I can go anywhere.

Rin: There's no helping you, huh.

Page 11

Rin: (Sigh...) Hey, bro...

It's a really good thing you found your current work as an author.

Ryuu: It's my calling!

I think... it's my calling, but...

Ryuu: ........

Recently, I've been in a little slump...

Ryuu: "A short story commemorating the 10 years since my debut."

Ryuu: Is the story I'm doing, but...

I'm not getting any good ideas.

Rin: They've dried up, huh? (All of them).

Ryuu: Haa... How nice...

Unlike me, the apple blossoms are in full bloom...

Rin: Don't get jealous of a tree.

Ryuu: Whenever the apple tree blooms, it reminds me of Anne of Green Gables...

Rin: Green Gables? What's that?

Page 12

Ryuu: "Anne of Green Gables" is a Canadian coming-of-age story about an orphan with red hair named Anne Shirley.

Ryuu: The highly imaginative protagonist Anne causes a stir with all sorts of incidents.

Ryuu: Friendship, family, and the old-fashioned daily life are all vibrantly written about in that masterpiece.

Ryuu: In the start of the series, before Anne is adopted, when she heads toward the "Green Gables"...

Ryuu: She passes through the rows of dreamily beautiful apple trees...

Ryuu: I really love that scene...

Ryuu: Ahh...

Ryuu: I want to visit Anne's world.

Page 13

Ryuu: If I could visit that world, if I could meet with Anne and happily chat with her...

Ryuu: I might get a revelation from god...

Rin: Why don't you go?

Ryuu: Eh...?

Rin: You have wings called imagination, don't you?

Then, why not go visit? Canada.

Why not visit that world?

Rin: In your head.

Ryuu: !

Ah...

Page 14

Ryuu: That's right! You're totally right, Rintarou!

Hey, why don't you do some work here at my place?

Rin: Wha? Work here?!

Ryuu: Yeah! See, your cooking's good, right?

Rin: Cooking...?

I mean, I can do a certain amount, but...

Ryuu: In Anne's story, all sorts of delicious food shows up.

Please let me have a taste of that moment's joy! While sitting in the comfort of my own home.

Rin: ...?

In your own home?

Ryuu: Yes! The title is!!

Ryuu: Under the Apple Tree!

Rin: !

Ryuu: A wonderful picnic that will take us to the world of Anne of Green Gables!!

Page 15

Rin: ....

Rin: Ehh...?!

Rin: Eh?

(An unforeseen development)

Ryuu: How about it?

Ryuu: One thousand yen an hour!!

Rin: ........

.....

Rin: Are...

Rin: Are you serious...

Girl1: Hey...

Takatsuki-kun is acting weird today, isn't he?

Girl2: Weird?

...He's eating lunch alone while reading, just like always.

Girl1: No, not that.

The book he's reading is what's weird! Look!

Page 16

Girls: A..

Anne of Green Gables...!!!

(Girl1: And with such a scary expression...)

Rin: (It's not like...)

Rin: (I want money so bad I need it from Aniki...)

(But, if I say "I can't" to everything...

I'll become a person that can't do anything.)

Rin: (Above all...)

Page 17

(When he was my age,)

(Aniki had already become an author.)

Rin: (I have to do something, too!!!)

Rin: Uhhh...

Two kinds of cookies, a fruit and nut pound cake, a layer cake...

Raspberry cordial, and a cherry pie. All together, six dishes.

Rin: If it's like that, any idiot should be satisfied.

Rin: The beginning of the tea party is at one o'oclock.

So, in five hours... Okay.

Page 18

Rin: (I'll make this order a success!!)

Rin: Uh, first off...

I'll cut the dough I made and refrigerated last night into cookies and bake them.

Rin: The classic cookies need a little assembly.

Place some jam in the middle of the plain cookies...

Rin: While they're baking, the raspberry cordial.

It seems a lot like raspberry juice...

Rin: The berries are mixed with sugar and put over heat,

And lemon juice and water are added. Once it reaches a boil, the mixture is strained.

(Rin: Incidentally, there's equal parts berries and sugar..)

[Sugar, 500g]

(Rin: The calories must be crazy...)

Rin: I did that part last night, so I just have to add water and soda to taste and it's ready.

Page 19

Rin: Next, the pound cake.

Rin: Beat together room temperature butter and sugar until it turns pale,

Then incorporate beaten eggs a little bit at a time.

(Rin: Looks like it's coming together...)

Rin: Then the flour,

Raisins, walnuts, orange zest, and almonds go in.

Rin: Stir to distribute evenly.

[All right? This cake tastes horrible! Is this the fault of the baking powder?]

[(Oh, Marilla!)]

Rin: (...Is how that scene went in the story, I think.)

Rin: (I guess things would really go wrong if the baking powder was bad back then.)

Rin: (But I'll be fine. I used good baking powder...)

[170C for 40-50 minutes.]

Rin: Oops, onto the next! (The cherry pie!)

Rin: I mean, I should clean up a little.

Uwah! It's already this late!?

(Crash!)

Rin: Ow!

Page 20

Rin: !

Rin: Uwah...

It's a success!!

Rin: (It rose nicely,

Has a golden brown color, and it smells great!!)

Rin: (It's going well!!!)

Rin: (Alright, let's keep this mood up!

The last obstacle for today!

The layer cake!!)

[Slice the sponge cake into layers and fill with jam and cream.]

(Basically, a shortcake.)

Page 21

Rin: Beat the eggs and sugar over heat over heat for 5 minutes until frothy.

Keep going until fluffy and airy.

[Ideal]

Rin: You can tell when it's finished when the mixture leaves tracks behind... (Or so it says...)

Rin: Huh?

This isn't any good...

Rin: Ehhhh~~?

The egg isn't whipping up at all...

Ryuu: (I thought it'd be any moment now, so I came to check...

But it looks like making sweets is pretty rough...)

Page 22

[20 minutes later.]

Rin: I...

Rin: I did it somehow...?

Rin: Haa... haa....

Rin: Gently mix flour into the whipped eggs using a sifter...

Then add milk to the finished batter and mix again.

Rin: When you put it in the dish, gently hit the bottom of the pan to get out any air bubbles, and put it in the oven.

Rin: Now I'll pour the custard onto the cherry pie I baked earlier,

And line it with cherries.

Page 23

Rin: Once the sponge cake is cooled, decorate it.

Rin: Okay...

Rin: Done!

Ryuu: Rin!!

Rintarou! Over here, in the garden!

Page 24

Ryuu: Let's eat over here!!!

[This is...]

[The picnic menu for traveling to the world of Anne of Green Gables.]

Page 25

[1. Raspberry cordial]

[2. Jam cookie

3. Chocolate cookie]

[4. Dried fruit and nut pound cake]

[5. Layer cake]

[6. Cherry pie]

Ryuu: It...

Ryuu: It's so high quality!! (Amazing!!)

Ryuu: Rintarou...

You really are impressive, huh... (Was this really your first time making these sweets...?)

Rin: Yeah.

Now, what to start with?

Ryuu: Hmm... Anything's fine.

Rin: !

What's that mean, just pick one!

Ryuu: I don't mean it like that.

Page 26

Ryuu: These are the confections you worked hard to make, right?

I'm sure all of them are delicious.

Rin: Then...

The layer cake.

Rin: Here.

Page 27

Rin: Why don't you call it down.

Your revelation or whatever.

Ryuu: Yeah.

Thanks for the food.

Page 29

Ryuu: ......

Ryuu: Rows...

Of apple trees?

[Just when did I get here...]

[Is this exit...

This way?]

Page 30

[An apple tree.]

(That's right.)

(The apple tree in the garden... I planted it when I'd just become an author.)

(A charm)

[To bear fruit]

Page 31

[To all sorts of creative ideas, just like that girl.]

Page 32

Rin: ....?

Rin: (Was it bad...?)

Rin: Ryuunosuke?

Page 33

Ryuu: Mm!

Ryuu: Delicious...!

Rin: Eh?

Ryuu: It's delicious!

All of it's amazingly good!

Rin: R-

Really...?

Ryuu: Really, really!

Ryuu: I just remembered

How I felt when I was just starting as an author...

Page 34

Ryuu: It's all thanks to you, Rintarou!!

Ryuu: It's really wonderful! Thank you!!

(Huh...)

Rin: (Huh?)

Rin: Eh...

Rin: Uh...

Rin: (Huh, what's with that...)

Page 35

Rin: The... job...

Ryuu: ?

Rin: (Just now, he told me "thank you"...

Big bro's gratitude...)

Rin: Well, that job... my work...

Uh, that is...

Rin: (What...

What should I do?!!)

[Man: Takatsuki-kun.

Can't you try serving the customers with more of a smile?]

[Rin: ...

I can't.]

[Ah...

I...]

(This is the first time anyone's been pleased with my work, isn't it....)

Rin: Th...

Rin: ......

Thanks.

Page 36

Rin: !!

Rin: Uwa!

Rin: The wind's picked up, huh.

Should we move back inside? Ryuunosuke.

Page 37

[Oh.

It switched on.]

Page 38

Dad: Isn't that amazing, Rintarou?

Ryuunosuke won a big award for his novel.

Dad: Amazing...

[A 16 year old's break-out work!]

Rin: (Ryuunosuke is...)

(A shut-in with way too much imagination, and he can't acclimate to society...)

(Even so, he's made an incredible amount of people happy.)

(I really...

Wanted to know what I could do, and started doing part-time jobs...)

Page 39

Rin: ...Is it good?

Rin: (I'm still no match for him...

But...)

Ryuu: Hmm?

Ryuu: Oh, yeah...

Rin: (What an absent-minded reply.)

(Making others happy isn't so bad.)

Rin: ...

Uh-huh.

Page 40

[The next day]

Rin: Eh...

What's this "Divine Revelation" on the 27th?!

Ryuu: It's an appointment...

I realized it this time. I need your power.

Rin: You liar!

Don't just decide that on your own, it's a huge pain!

Eh?

Ryuu: For a writer, you know...

You should realize that I need a new revelation one after the other...

[<-A day before the deadline.]

Rin: Wh--

Ryuu: Don't you get it?!

Rin: ......

.....

Rin: I...

Rin: I get it....

Ryuu: (Alright!) I made my appointment. That's one thing off my mind.

Ah, but I'll probably have morning and night switched around by then, so it should be in the evening!

Ryuu: Oh, if I eat too much I'll get tired, so make something light.

Even so, I want something nutritious.

Rin: ......

Ryuu: But if it's hard to digest, my concentration will....

[That was the start of a pain-in-ass event in my regular life.]

[justsohappensiimagined]

L A K E H O U S E L O V E A F F A I R S, P A R T T W O { STILES STILINSKI } – MALIA TATE –

Okay, so this is a story I’ve been working on with @stilinskiimagines and it’s been absolutely amazing. She’s freaking awesome, and it’s been poppin. So without further ado, the second part of our collaboration, Lake House Love Affairs. (Look on her page for part three.)

– – –

“Since forever?” He scoffed, running his hands through his hair. Your eyes softened, “Stiles.” You sighed. He turned away from you, only giving you a view of his back. “Stiles, look at me.” You demanded. “No.” He muttered. “Fine, but I’m gonna still gonna talk.”

“Stiles, I’ve known you forever. You probably just think you like me. I mean, we grew up together—” You began. Stiles then spun around, his body growing terrifyingly bigger. “You did not just say that to me.” Stiles told you. “You did not just say that to me.” He repeated, his voice growing a little louder.

“Is everything okay?” A voice sounds behind you. You turned to see Liam, his face full of worry. “Yeah, little fish, we’re fine.” You said softly, motioning for the boy you thought of as a little brother to go back outside. Stiles closed his eyes, his lips tightening into a frown. “Y/N, I don’t think you realize how special you are to me. You’re really special to me. Wanna know why?” He said shakily.

You stood quiet, waiting for him to continue. “Why?” You asked, realizing he wasn’t going to go on until you have permission.

“Because I don’t think I can love anyone as much as I love you.” He opened his eyes. “I love everything about you. I love your voice, because of how soft and kind it is even to the worst of people. I love your body, because when I see you move, you do it with such grace and confidence. When you hug me, God, I could hold you forever. Your tiny body close to mine sends a feeling through me that I can’t even begin to describe. And it’s not just the physical things about you, Y/N. Because whenever I’m around you or think about you, you make me feel invincible. You make me feel like I could walk on water, and fly across the seas.” He admitted.

“Y/N, I love you because you’re the most passionate person I’ve met. Whenever you talk about your favorite subject, or tv show, or the book you just finished reading, I don’t want you to stop. You make it sound like it’s the most beautiful thing anyone in this world could experience and you make me want to experience it too. And God, I love how you make me smile so easily. You could literally walk into the same room as me, and I can’t help but smile. Even at your lame jokes, or the fact that you snort a little bit when you laugh. I love everything about you, Y/N. I love you.”

You freeze, unsure of what to say. You’d always had a bit of a crush on Stiles, but in love? That was huge. “Oh my God..” You shake your head. “I don’t..” You sigh. “I can’t do this. Nope. Not right now.” You spin on your heel and jog up the stairs, slipping into your room. You shut the door behind you and flop down onto the bed. What the hell just happened? You did not expect this week to go this way.

You eventually fell asleep, awoken by the sound of Lydia calling your name. You sit up, rubbing your eyes. “Good, you’re up.” She nods. “We’ve busted out the wolfsbane liquor and we’re going to play drinking games. Wanna join?”

You wanted nothing more in this world than a buzz to make you feel better, “Hell yeah I’m in.” You jump up off the bed and she grins.

“I knew you were the fun one.”

“I’m always up for a drinking game.”

You rush down stairs with Lydia and to the backyard. You needed a distraction right now, and this was the perfect way to do it. “Okay, what game are we playing?” Liam asked. “Woah, there, little fish. You’re not old enough to drink.” You said, wrapping your arm around his shoulder. “I’ve drank before.” He furrowed his eyebrows.

“You whAT?” You asked. “I’ve drank before.” He repeated slowly. “You’re sixteen, Liam. You shouldn’t be drinking.” You argued. He opened his mouth the speak, but you cut him off instead. “I’m very disappointed in you. I expected more from you. Go to your room.” You commanded.

“What? No. I want to play.” Liam told you angrily. You were quiet, thinking about letting the little delinquent stay. “You can stay and drink.” You said finally. You then pulled out a bottle of apple juice from behind your back, squeezing his shoulders. You held the bottle next to you faces, “Bottoms up.” You smirked.

Everyone laughed at your move, however Liam just rolled his eyes and glared. “Sorry, Liam, looks like you’re having apple juice tonight.” Derek shrugged. “Okay, who’s up for some wolfsbane liquor beer pong?” Stiles smiled. We cheered, gathering around the long table laid out.

“Alright, who’s going first?” Scott asked. “ME!” You shouted, your hand shooting in the air. They all laughed at your eagerness to get drunk. “Woah, Y/N’s looking for something tonight.” Lydia smirked. You winked at her, “Damn right. Now, who shall be my unlucky opponent?” You questioned your friends.

“Me.” A voice answered. You all turned to see Malia walk out of the house. Your eyes widened at what she was wearing. A tight tank top clung to her body, showing off her glorious curves. Along with very short shorts that exposed her lean and tan legs. And of course, her combat boots.

“Let’s see what you got.” You smirked. And then the games began. You and Malia stood on opposites sides of the table, a small ball in each hand. She shot first, the ball landing in the third cup in the middle row. She smirked at you, “Bring it.” You drank the cup dry, licking what was left on your lips.

“Last row, second cup on your right.” You told her. You threw the ball, and sure enough, that’s where it landed. Malia withdrew the ball, downing the liquor in seconds. You threw your second ball, and it landed in the first cup. Malia reached over to grab it, and you were stunned as her breasts practically popped out of her shirt. She looked up, grinning.

Clearing your throat, you waited for her to shoot her shot.

You tried to pry your eyes from her chest, staring into her eyes. She shoots, landing a shot in the back row. You take a quick drink, squeezing your eyes shut. “Jesus, Lydia..what’s in this?”

“A mix of this and that. Mom can’t know we got into the liquor. It’s just alcohol, don’t question it.” She shrugs.

“Good lord..” You mumble, taking your turn. You barely make it, Malia chuckling dryly as she throws the cup back.

You go back and forth for a bit, you win but you’re still a little more drunk than her.

“Lightweight?” Liam mutters and you glare at him.

“Don’t be mad that I made you drink apple juice.” A giggle falls from your lips.

Derek laughs, watching you stumble. “You may have hit your limit, Y/N.”

You stand up straight, shaking your head. “I’m good. I’m good and sober.” You grin.

Scott shakes his head, “Who wants to play me?”

You walk out of the room, finding Malia, Lydia, Isaac, and Hayden in the den. “What’re you guys doing?”

“Hanging out.” Lydia shrugs. “Nothing specific.”

You flop down onto the couch, sighing. “I’m buzzed.”

“You smell like it.” Malia laughs.

“You’re drunk too.” You laugh with her, your eyes lingering on her chest.

You cough, looking up at the ceiling. “Let’s play truth or dare.”

“Too risky.” Lydia shakes her head. “Spin the bottle.”

“And that’s not risky?” Isaac chuckles, drinking from his glass.

“I’m game.” You shrug.

“Guys! Get in here!” Malia shouts.

“What’s up?” Scott leads everyone into the room.

“Spin the bottle.” Isaac leans forward. You and Stiles exchange a glance, you quickly looking away.

“Is everyone drunk enough for that?” Mason raises an eyebrow.

“We can be.” Kira grins.

“Yeah…legally I’m going to have to sit this one out. I’ll be an idle chaperone.” Derek sits down.

“Sorry, Derek.” You laugh.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll be in the corner, sulking.” He muttered, sitting on a vacant chair. “Aw, come on Derek,” Stiles sarcastically cooed, “don’t be such a sour wolf.” Derek snapped his head to Stiles, anger written all over his face as everyone laughed at Derek’s special nickname.

“I’ll do the honors.“ Corey smirked at everyone. He took the empty beer bottle and spun it in the middle of everyone. The bottle landed on Mason. Mason blushed, and you giggled at the two boys. “Corey, you sly dog. You planned that, didn’t you?” Stiles asked. Corey grinned as he leaned across the circle to kiss the sitting Mason besides you.

“My god, you guys are so cute.” You giggled drunkenly. “Okay, Theo, you’re turn.” Malia said. Theo turned the bottle, having it land on Hayden. “Oooh.” You and Mason said together. Liam glanced between the two. “No way. No way. You’re not kissing him.” Liam complained. “Little fish, those are the rules of the game.” You told him. Hayden nodded sadly. “Yeah, little fish.” Theo added. Liam’s head snapped towards him, “Only Y/N can call me that.” He snapped.

“Liam, calm down. This is how the game works.” Hayden told Liam, placing her small hand on his shoulder. “What?!” He exclaimed. “No! No! You’re not gonna kiss the bad guy!” Liam shouted. “Liam Eugene Dunbar!” You hissed. Liam’s eyes widened at you, realizing what he had just said. Theo stood up, storming out of the room. “I-I didn't—” You cut the young boy off, “Can it. We’ll talk about this later.” You said, taking off after Theo.

You were very sober now, only feeling a light buzz. “Theo?” You called. Without an answer, you listened for a heartbeat. You heard the others downstairs, but only one was beating unbelievably fast. You headed upstairs, and found the window open in Derek and Issac’s room. “Theo?” You called again. A deep sigh was heard outside the window. You walked over, and poked your head outside. There sat Theo on the other side of the window, his eyes closed.

“Theodore, what the hell are you doing?” You asked humorously. Theo opened his eyes, a laugh leaving his lips. You climbed out the window, going to sit next to him. “You got balls, kid.” You said shakily, all too aware of your fear of height. “Mm, sure.” He chuckled. You two were silent for a moment, both staring at the moon and stars above you. “Why does everyone hate me?” Theo whispered to you.

Your eyes moved to him, “Really? You’re asking your best friend that question?” You asked. “Best friend?” He asked, turning to you. “Well,” you looked around, “do you see anyone else climbing out of a window to comfort you while you sit on a roof knowing they have a fear of heights?” He laughed at your question, shaking his head. “Thanks, Y/N/N.” He smiled.

“Theodore,” you began, “not everyone hates you.” He turned to you once again, resting his chin in his elbow. “Scott doesn’t hate you, nor does Kira, anymore. Neither does Mason, or Corey, or Malia. I sure as hell don’t hate you.” You said softly. “Okay, well what about Derek, or Stiles, or Malia, or Issac and Lydia?” He wondered painfully.

“They don’t hate you. They just strongly dislike you.” You joked. He glared lightly. “Seriously, Theodore, they don’t hate you. But you haven’t exactly given them a reason to like you either.” You shrugged. “Then why do you like me?” He asked. “Because, I can see that you’re trying. I can see that you’re trying to do better, and be a better person. That deserves as second chance.” You explained.

“Then why the hell can’t they see that?” He asked you. “I don’t know, because they’re hard headed?” You retorted. “But honestly, who cares what they think?” You scoffed. He turned to look at you incredulously. “Theodore,” you began, “stop focusing on them. Stop focusing on what they think, and how they perceive you. Focus on the fact that you’re trying to to better, and will yourself to keep going. Because that’s all that matters. All that matters is that you’re trying, and you know they you’re doing better. Don’t let what they say or think get in the way of all of your hard work.” You told him.

Tears brimmed in Theo’s eyes, and he quickly tried to blink them away. “Thank you, Y/N. Really, thank you.” He whispered. You nodded, pulling him into a hug. “Of course, Theodore. You’re my best friend, and I love you. Don’t forget that.” You said. “Now, let’s go have fun.” You giggled, pulling him back towards the window.

You both walk downstairs, everyone silent. You grab a beer from the table. “Who’s next?” You sit down, Theo smiling at you softly. ​

“Umm…” Malia looks around the room. “I’ll go.” She spins the bottle, your heart pounding as it stops on you.

​

“Y/N?” She glances up at you.​

You take a swig, “You can’t say no to the bottle.” You glare at Liam.​

She leans forward, her cleavage overwhelming you. You know everyone can hear your heartbeat pick up. You swing your leg over the pillow you were sitting on, leaning towards Malia. She cups your neck, pulling you to her. You smash your lips against hers, taking in a sharp breath.​

“Jesus Christ..” You hear Isaac mutter. ​

She whispers lowly, “I’ve never ever smelled someone so aroused.“​

You pull back, the two of you locking eyes. ​

Scott clears his throat and you sit back, your mind foggy. “My turn?“​

He nods and you spin, the bottle landing on Stiles. Just what you needed. You glance at Stiles and he shrugs. ​

You lean toward him, pressing your lips to his. Your stomach flip flops at the contact, electricity jolting through your veins.​

You pull away and open your eyes, making eye contact. His eyes are bright, happy. You sit back, licking your lips involuntarily.

​

Everyone heads off to bed one by one after the game, you and Malia left on the couch.​

She taps you, “Hey."​

"Hmm?” The both of you are completely wasted. ​

“You’re a good kisser."​

"We kissed for two seconds.” You giggle.​

“Well it was a good two seconds.” She laughs. ​

“Wanna try it again?” You smirk, teasing her.​

“Yeah.” She says quickly.​

“Really?” You look over at her and she nods.​

You raise an eyebrow as she sits up, “I’m serious.” ​

You scoot over to her, your faces inches apart. “Ever since you walked in on me all I could think about was kissing you.” She bites her lip.​

“I guess it’s your lucky day.” You press your lips to hers, sliding onto her lap. She sticks her hands in your back pockets, pulling you closer. You cup her jaw, getting a better angle as she takes your lip between her teeth. ​

You suck in a sharp breath as you pull back. “God..you smell amazing..” She shakes her head before kissing you again. You tangle your fingers in her hair.​

She slips her hands up your shirt, a gasp grabbing your attention. “Liam?” You glance over, his jaw agape. “Oh Jesus Christ, Liam!” He starts back up the stairs.

[singingunderthecurtain]

DIAMOND (CEO AU Baekhyun Series) Part 4

Also on AFF

Picture not mine, found everything on Google

Author: @julietsoddeye  AU: CEO!Baekhyun Genre: Angst | Smut | Romance  Pairing: Baekhyun x Lee Soojin (You/OC) Trigger Warning: SMUT in this chapter!!! Mentions of a car accident. Mentions of being blind. Baekhyun being an a-hole. Word Count: 2,743

Plot: After 10 years of exile to another country, you are finally back home and you were surprised to find out that you are engaged to the son of your father's long-time friend and business partner.

Diamond Mini Masterlist

For the last 2 days, you’ve managed to completely ignore Baekhyun. When he once tried talking to you but you fail to recognize his existence, he ignores you just as much you do now. But you both know that when you get back home, you’ll have to start talking again. At least just as long as you’re in front of your parents or other important people, during meetings or parties and get-togethers.

For now, you try to relax your mind while you’re still here in The Bahamas. Not to mention a 681-acre private island owned by your father-in-law. Only you and your current buddies are on this side of the island with a complete line of service crew from Chefs to chambermaids and even massage therapists.

You, Hisako and Yanmei are all sprawled on beach towels on the pure and white sand, basking in the nice sun, wearing your swimwear. Mia, on the other hand, is concentrating and typing on her laptop, hiding away from the sun under the huge umbrellas of the many beach lounge chairs. At least she’s not wearing her usual corporate attire, not in this tropical heat thankfully. She’s currently wearing a cute and flowy yellow dress that she picked out hesitantly at the LAX duty-free when you told her you will take her shopping no matter what. Her choice fits her really perfect as it was modest and pretty, exactly just like her.

“Yo, watch this…” Yanmei smiles mischievously as she reached for the spray-on sunblock from your beach bag. The boys are only a few meters away from you, playing volleyball on the sand. All of them plays quite noisily, and not to mention dirty. They keep distracting and harassing each other so the other team won’t score.

“What are you gonna do?” Hisako asks, propping herself up using one arm as she removes her round sunglasses away from her eyes. You saw that Mia stopped her activity and are now watching whatever your best friend will do.

“I’m going to seduce Jongdae so we can have a spy on their group. Also, he’s really cute, have you seen that kitty cat face of him?” Yanmei purred lewdly, she bit her lower lip to stop herself from giggling too hard. Mia cackled lightly after Yanmei mentioned her plans and gave her a big thumb’s up and a slight wink of approval. Yanmei grinned proudly and literally gave herself a pat on her back.

“Wow, you’re finally using your promiscuity to good use. I’m really proud of you this time, Mei-mei!” Hisako ribbed with a teasing snicker.

“Shut up, you cobwebbed cunt, at least I’m not a prude like you. When was the last time you got laid again?” Yanmei jeered back and she kicks sand on Hisako’s leg.

“Whatever you say, you soggy bowl of cereal. Unlike you, I won’t die without sex.” Hisako hissed teasingly and laughed her response, dusting aside the sand off of her leg and beach towel.

“Penises are amazing, especially a good one. I bet Jongdae have a really pretty-looking dick as handsome as his face in front of that set of juicy butt. Mmm…” Yanmei puckers her lips as she thirsted over Jongdae and Mia’s jaw drops in shock. She’s still not used to Yanmei’s nasty ass sewage system of a mouth.

“Eww shut up Yanmei; it’s too early for that! We just ate breakfast and you’re hungry again.” Hisako’s face soured up at the mention of penises so early in the morning.

You roll your eyes at their bantering as you insert a bookmark on the page of the book you’re reading. You threw the book inside your bag and flipped yourself on your back so you can now slightly toast the other side of your body.

Yanmei sat up from her beach towel and adjusted her almost sheer orange bikini top so her boobs pop out more, making them look bigger than usual. She grabbed the sunscreen again before calling out to her poor, poor and unsuspecting victim.

“Jongdae, Jongdae!” Yanmei calls out with her signature sweet but perilous voice. Almost too immediately, Jongdae twists his neck to look at our general direction. He smiled instantly when he saw Yanmei waving and motioning for him to come closer. Without hesitation, Jongdae carelessly threw the beach volleyball behind him and it hit Chanyeol’s head making him fall on the sand in all fours, the ever so clumsy gentle giant.

“You’re weak bro!” Baekhyun vexed at his friend when he saw where Jongdae was suddenly heading to.

“Fuck right off, Baekkie boy!” Jongdae calls out and gave all his friends the middle finger.

“He’s thinking with his dick again, Hyung.” Jongin shakes his head with an amused smile on his face.

“When did he ever think without his dick, anyway?” Sehun remarked causing all of them to laugh.

__________

“Hey, what’s up?” Jongdae beamed at all of the girls but mainly focuses on the one who called for him, Yanmei.

“I’m having a really big problem right now,” Yanmei started, her face scrunched convincingly and Jongdae furrowed his forehead in retaliation.

“What is it, can I help you?” Jongdae asks as he kneels in front of Yanmei on the sand.

“Yeah, you can!” Yanmei gleamed, Jongdae smiles back and gave her a hand gesture for her to continue.

“You see these girls here won’t help me put sunscreen and I can’t reach my back.” Yanmei pushes the aerosol can of sunscreen at Jongdae as she explains her dilemma. And he gulped down the saliva that suddenly gathered inside his mouth. She looks at his tightening jaw and his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows his spit.

“Y—you want me to s—spray this on your back.” Jongdae stumbles his words a little bit as he examines the can of liquid lotion on his meagerly shaky hand. Soojin chortled lightly as she witnesses Jongdae crumble slowly inside Yanmei’s hand. She’s called Venus by a lot of people, guys especially, for a reason.

“Oh no baby boy, don’t just spray it on my back. I encourage you to rub it in really hard… You know, so my skin can absorb the SPF well.” Yanmei cooed to Jongdae with a risqué emphasis in her voice. She strokes his legs in a flirty manner before she lies face down on the beach towel. She makes sure her ass jiggled when she dropped on the sand beneath her.

“I suggest you massage it strongly, she likes it rough.” Soojin winks, flashing Jongdae a suggestive smirk.  Hisako just rolls her eyes at how languid men get when it comes to titillating matters.

“So Jongdae, I heard from Sehun that you have an amazing singing voice…” Yanmei finally stood up after Jongdae finished rubbing her back with the sunblock. He then proceeded to rub what was left of the lotion in his hand on the chest of his thin and wrinkled linen button shirt.

“Yeah, just one of my many talents.” He wiggled his brows up and down, his lips curling up in a Cheshire cat wide grin. Hisako wanted to do a back flip and roll her eyes, but she stopped herself because her eyes might pop out from rolling it too much.

“Well I sing too and I cover songs in my free time. Do you wanna hear them?” Yanmei towers over Jongdae as she stood up completely, dusting her legs free of sand that sticks on her skin.

“Yeah sure,” Jongdae looks up at Yanmei as she stood up.

“Come with me, I left my laptop inside the house.” Yanmei reaches her hand out to Jongdae and he gladly held her as she pulls him up. She then proceeded to tow him to the direction of the house, looking back to her friends seeing their bawdy smiles.

“Be careful in there Jongdae-ssi. Mei-mei’s a very dangerou—!” Hisako tried warning Jongdae playfully, but Soojin abruptly pins her down and stops her mid sentence.

“What?” Jongdae attempts to look behind him, but Yanmei tug on his hand so he won’t have to listen to them.

“Ignore them, they’re weird.” Yanmei smiles sweetly and Jongdae responded with a nervous chuckle under his breath as he was being trawled by the irresistible woman in front of him.

The twosome then entered the wide open back door of the house and before they even reached the end of the kitchen, Yanmei pushed Jongdae on the counter and roughly assault his lips with her own. Jongdae was taken aback a little bit but then kisses her back with the same force she’s giving him.

Yanmei’s right-hand slides up the nape of Jongdae's neck and wrap her fingers around so she can deepen their already keen kissing. Her other hand then snake up inside his shirt to feel up his somewhat toned belly. She pushes herself to him and Jongdae moaned when his growing need rubbed on her. Yanmei pulls away from the kiss all of a sudden and Jongdae grunted at the loss of her sweet lips.

“Your bedroom, now let’s go!” Yanmei demanded and it’s now Jongdae’s turn to pull her hand to the direction of his bedroom.

When they got it, Jongdae hastily pushes the door shut, locking it in the process. Yanmei jumped up on the bed and Jongdae followed closely to have a taste of her mouth again. She flipped the eager man on his back, straddling him and pushes his chest to start unbuttoning his shirt open. She pauses halfway to grind her thinly clothed middle on his ever growing bulge, in a painfully slow movement. Jongdae groused impatiently and proceeded to rip his shirt off; some buttons flew in all directions. He swiftly slides the garment off his shoulder and he buried his face in between her chest.

“Mmm, you smell so lovely, Yanmei-ssi.” Jongdae’s words are being muffled by her skin.

“Drop the formality Jongdae, we’re here right now about to fuck.” She giggles as she gingerly twirls her fingers on Jongdae’s soft permed hair.

“Can I comfortably call you Mei-mei then?” Jongdae looks up at her face with a hopeful twinkle in his eyes. She smiles at him and offers him an enthusiastic nod.

“Do you have a condom?” She asks quickly before they can move on any further.

“Do I have a condom? Baby, I bring a box of condom wherever I go, just in case. I’m a boy scout!” Yanmei bit her lower lip at Jongdae’s response.

“Have I told you I like boy scouts? They’re always ready.” Yanmei giggles like a teenage schoolgirl as the sides of her lips marginally curl up.

Jongdae promptly twirls Yanmei, her back hitting the softness of the mattress, evoking a surprised squeal from her. Jongdae then reaches out to the bedside table drawer where he stashes his box of condom in. He grabbed a handful of packets and dropped all on the table top and pushes the drawer to close it.

Yanmei props herself up with one hand and pulls the string of her bikini top with the other. Jongdae hooks his pointer finger on the string in between her chest and weeds out the tiny piece of clothing, finally unveiling her breasts to him. His head slowly rolls on one side of his neck as his eyes admires her glamour.

Without wasting any more time, Jongdae’s lips latched on one of Yanmei’s nipples, sucking on while his tongue flicks and swirls on the bud, making her wail in pleasure. Both of his hands slither down to her sides and he tugs on the strings of Yanmei’s bikini bottoms. She bolsters her butt up a little bit to help Jongdae completely yank the underwear off.

Jongdae softly and delicately trails kisses from her chest to her stomach and down to her navel. His nimble finger gently starts caressing her already soaked sex, focusing on her clit. He lightly dips two fingers in her entrance and pulls out immediately to sloppily dunk them inside his mouth for a quick taste. He grumbles and rolls his eyes at the back of his head as he savors the heavenly taste of her.

“Jongdae please, just fuck me already,” Yanmei begs as she writhes beneath Jongdae’s agonizing touch. He smiled maniacally at the imploring of her neediness.

Since Jongdae is as stirred up as she is, he rapidly flings his shorts and underwear off himself. Yanmei watches as Jongdae’s thick cock springs and bounces up and down in front of her. Without looking away from Jongdae’s God-like body, Yanmei clumsily slaps her hand on the table top to grab a packet of condom, biting the end of the foil and tearing it open with her teeth. She grabs and pumps his meat before enveloping it with the rubber with his help.

“Ready,” He says to her and it’s not even a question anymore.

She ardently and heartily nods her head in acknowledgment. Jongdae then moves and lines up his cock to her entrance. Slowly, he pushes himself inside her and she uncontrollably let out a sigh of pure bliss.

“Oh my God, you’re so big Jongdae.” Yanmei dug her nails on the wrists of Jongdae’s hands that was gripping her hips as he burrows himself inside of her.

“And you’re very tight, baby girl.” Jongdae halted to let Yanmei adjust to his size when he was completely doused inside her. After a while, he started to gyrate his hips to rub his skin on Yanmei’s sensitive clit and she purses her lips together to cease herself from moaning out loud.

“Jongdae please,” Yanmei begs and without another word, he pulls himself and ram his dick back in. The act made her lose what’s left of her containment and she cries out a gratifying growl that’s music to Jongdae’s ears.

“Oh God Yanmei you feel so fucking good around my dick.” Jongdae moans as he continues his desolation of Yanmei’s tight cunt.

“Harder… Faster… Jongdae… Faster, I’m almost there!” Yanmei is now screaming as she squirms like a helpless worm that’s been sprinkled with salt under Jongdae’s performance.

Jongdae picks up his pace as she demanded. He can also feel himself getting close to his release. His grip on her hips tightens and Yanmei knows that her skin will be bruised sooner, but she doesn’t care about that part right now. She just wanted to concentrate on the current joyride they are both experiencing.

A couple of thrusts later, both of them are moaning and climaxing together. Yanmei pulls herself up to Jongdae’s level and her mouth immediately attached to his, her teeth digging on his lower lip as they ride out their high.

After a while, Yanmei pushes Jongdae off so she can see how much seed she managed to pump out of him. She tugs a big smile on her lips with the amount of milt the rubber collected.

“What are you thinking about?” Jongdae asks as he removes the condom, tying it at the end to close it and expertly shoot the used item in the bin. He grabs the box of Kleenex on top of the table and kindly cleans up Yanmei’s dripping core.

“You.” She answered without a hitch as she pulls out a few pieces of soft napkins to wipe Jongdae clean as well.

“Look at us, cleaning each other up,” Jongdae says as he let out a heartfelt laugh.

“Yeah.” Yanmei’s cheeks flushes and she giggles gleefully.

“Do you really sing, or was that a lie for you to get into my pants?” Jongdae teases and Yanmei slaps his chest jokingly, her jaws dropping slightly at his boldness.

“I really sing, I swear. Wait here I’ll grab my laptop quickly from my room.” Yanmei sat up, wrapping Jongdae’s blanket around her nakedness. But before she can even stand, Jongdae grabs her wrist to twirl her around and gives her lips a quick peck. Making her blush slightly.

[cherrystreet]

It's the first cool day New York has seen in months. Louis wakes up to a light chill in the air, goosebumps rising on his skin, the cracked windows finally letting in a breeze that doesn't feel muggy, and when he rolls over to face Harry, sheets pooled around his bare waist, Louis only pauses to stare for a brief moment before he's poking Harry's chest, cheeks, eyelids. Harry bats him away, groaning.

"Why. What." His voice is rough with sleep and he doesn’t any make an attempt to open his eyes.

Louis smirks, poking him in the stomach. Hard. "It's finally fall."

"It's been fall for a week and a half."

"Yeah but now it feels like fall."

Harry groans louder. "It’s Sunday. The day of rest. I don’t want to wake up yet.”

“But.” He sits up, reaching for the duvet cover, wrapping it around himself. It smells like Harry’s shampoo, and a little bit like fabric softener. “We should go apple picking.”

“You don’t even like apples that much,” Harry mumbles into his pillow.

“I’m a teacher. I think it’s a law to like them, or something.”

He grunts out something that resembles probably, then rolls over to his other side, his back facing Louis.

That won’t do.

Louis rearranges himself so he’s situated on Harry’s lap, his movements quick enough that Harry doesn’t have time to react or push him away. Louis drags his hands up and down Harry’s sides, touching softly at his fading scars, and Harry finally opens his eyes at that, smile breaking, shaking his head.

“Has anyone ever told you how much of a pain in the ass you are?”

“A few times, maybe.”

“More than a few.” Harry grabs Louis’ left hand by the wrist and brings it up to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm. “Like, ten more minutes, and then I’ll get up. I’m exhausted.”

“How can you possibly be tired? We went to bed before 11 last night. It’s like we’re a boring elderly couple.”

He laughs, wiggling beneath Louis’ weight, trying to shove him off. It doesn’t work. “Just because we were in bed before 11 doesn’t mean I was actually asleep.”

“Why, what were you doing…” Louis trails off when his gaze catches something on the nightstand on Harry’s side. A stack of papers, all a little rumpled. He can’t tell what’s written - not without glasses - but he can tell it’s Harry’s messy scrawl. “You writin’ me some love letters, Styles?”

“Mmm,” Harry agrees. “By candlelight.”

“Fancy.” He leans over to grab the papers, thumbing through them. “Seriously, what is this. Wait.” He looks down at Harry, shaking his head, in disbelief. “Harry, for the love of God.”

“What?”

“Are you fucking replying to all of the letters I sent to you when you were deployed?!”

Harry scrunches up his nose and shrugs, unashamed. “Something like that.”

“Jesus Christ.” Louis climbs off of Harry’s lap, sliding back under the blankets, duvet caught up around his shoulders, his pillow still warm. The first letter is about a page in length, but the second is five. “Good grief. Harry. Why now. You’ve been home for months.”

“I dunno.” He props himself up on his elbow, looking down at Louis’ face. “Didn’t feel fair to leave them unanswered. I read them all the time, and it’s like it’s a book with missing pages. Had to fill in the blank spots.”

“You read my letters all the time?” He’s surprised, had no idea.

“Yeah. I do.”

He looks over at Harry to see if he’s kidding. The look on his face proves he isn’t. “Why?”

“You know this last time overseas was hard. And how hard it was to readjust once I got back home. I don’t know.” He traces his fingers along the pattern of the blanket, a sweeping motion across the threading. “Makes me feel safe when I can read and reread your words.”

Louis licks his lips, stalling. It’s been an incredible challenge since Harry came home; the amount of therapy - both physical and mental - he’s had to go through to find his footing again has been immense, and some days, Louis feels helpless, like he can’t do anything to make any of it better. “You know you can always talk to me, right?” he says softly. “You don’t have to resort to going through a stack of old letters to communicate with me. I’m right here.”

“You are,” Harry agrees. “And thank God for that. But sometimes it’s too much for me to talk, you know? Reading I can handle. Writing back I can handle. It’s enough. It’s good. It’s working.”

Louis nods, his grip tight on the stack of unread letters. His eyes are a little glassy, but Harry doesn’t mention it. The letter in his hands is a response to Louis’ from months prior, talking about how much he was dreading going to Harry’s nephew’s play. It makes him feel a little sick, a sour taste in his mouth, remembering what it felt like counting down the days, the hours, until Harry was back home, can recall exactly what that agony felt like, still fresh in his mind. But he has Harry’s words - new words - in front of him, and his healed body beside him. Harry’s safe. He’s not going anywhere.

“And, uh,” Louis says, his voice cracking, “you’re gonna answer all of them?”

“I am.”

“Will I ever get to read yours?”

“Of course. Once the mailman delivers them.”

“Oh my God,” he snorts. “How many more do you have to reply to?”

“I think I have three left. The last few aren’t the easiest to read, so I’ve been taking my time with them.”

Louis knows. “And then you’re done?”

Harry makes a face and sits up all the way, curls matted up in the back, growing so quickly since he’s been home. “Why would I stop?”

“Because… there’d be nothing else to answer to?”

“Oh, I’m gonna keep going. Letters everyday. Can’t stop, won’t stop.”

“Harry, you do realize that’s insane, right. I fucking live with you.”

“So?”

“So, it’s a waste of stamps.”

“I’ll send ‘em in bulk. Won’t be too much.”

Louis rolls his eyes. “How will you even find time to write me letters, you fucking nut. Just e-mail me. Or text me.”

“Romantic.” Harry rolls his neck before he climbs out of bed, heading toward the bathroom. “I told you, writing feels good to me,” he says over his shoulder before he disappears around the corner.

“Do I have to respond to them?!” Louis asks before he climbs out, too, trailing behind him.

“I mean, that would be nice,” he says over the sudden sound of the spray from the shower. “And some of my favorite moments between us have been your letters. But I suppose you don’t have to.”

“Ugh, Harry. But I’m so busy with work. I barely have time to talk to you, never mind dig up the ol’ quill pen and write you a Goddamn story.” He stands in the frame of the doorway, arms crossed, and watches Harry undress. Harry definitely knows he has eyes on him, based on the way he’s flexing a little obnoxiously. Louis rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “I just fucking love you.”

Harry turns around, cheeks pink. “I know you do.”

“And I’m gonna respond to all your stupid letters.”

“I know you will.”

He laughs before he shrugs out of his own clothes. Harry’s eyes are fixed on him, unblinking. “Guess we should make a stop at the post office. Gotta pick up some more stamps.”

“I guess so,” Harry murmurs. “C’mere.”

Louis goes, happy to play along, whatever it may be, whatever it takes to keep that smile on Harry’s face.

It’s a good smile, after all, one of the best.