#so i am counting it as official because there aren't more tests to be done or anything!!

[apricior]

happy autism awareness month guess who is officially diagnosed now!!

[fungifanart]

hello my gay mycelium i am giving you one of my draft ideas (go wild, it's been rotting since 2023)

leona kingscholar + hands.

what do you think about his hands ;)

Hold Me Tight

Characters: Leona Kingscholar, male reader

Cw: Self-doubt, guilt, hurt/comfort

Word count: 793

Notes: If no one else got me, I know Soru's got me. Can I get an amen?

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

It's been roughly a month since you and Leona officially became boyfriends and you honestly couldn't be happier.

From the outside, it may look like nothing's changed between you and him: Same eating lunch together, same friendly banter between classes, same naps taken together at various times in various places, but it all feels so much more intimate now that you're dating that you can't help the sound of your heart thumping in your chest!

However, if you were to name one thing that feels truly different now, it's that his touches feel a lot more...hesitant.

If you aren't the one to take his hand while walking together, he'll never do it. And even when you reach out, you'll notice the smallest flinch in his hand before he reciprocates.

He does have his moments where he'll put his hand around your waist or shoulder while out in the halls or during naps, but even then, his touches have a certain feather-light quality to them that have become concerning the longer they go on.

Eventually, you decide to confront him about it.

Knocking on his door and announcing your presence, you walk into Leona's room to see him laying on his bed, as usual.

"Looks like you're enjoying yourself." You say as you walk to the side of the bed, earning a half-asleep grunt from Leona in response, "Mind if I join you?"

Your boyfriend lets out another grunt before lifting up the covers and making room for you.

Laying down next to him, you decide to test the waters by gently placing your hand on top of his and, just like you'd expected, his hand flinches away for a split second before quickly returning the gesture.

"...Leona, I need to ask you something." You say while sitting up in the bed.

"Mm...?" The lion responds while opening his eyes to look at you drowsily.

"Do you...not like touching me?" You ask directly, feeling his hand grow tense in your grasp.

"...What makes ya think that?" Leona asks, fully awake now.

"I've noticed several times now how you always flinch when I try to hold your hand and you always hold me so gingerly..." You explain as the self-doubt starts taking hold, "Am I...doing something wrong? Am I making you uncomfortable?"

In the silence, you hear Leona's breath hitch before he fully sits up next to you, "N-no, it ain't anythin' like that. It's just..." The lion takes his hand away from yours to look at it, "We both know what these hands have done. We both saw all that they've taken. They took the dorm's hopes away, they took the moisture out of the air, and they nearly took a life, which could've easily been yours." He pulls his knees into his chest, a defensive position you've never seen him take before, "When I think about holding you, my mind flashes back to the Spelldrive tournament and I get...scared. Scared that these hands might end up really hurting you, like they did with everyone else."

You remain silent for a moment as you move closer to your boyfriend, "It must be tough to carry that guilt for so long. To not be able to trust yourself to not hurt even your boyfriend." Very gently, you wrap your hand around the other man's forearm, guiding it and his hand to lay against your chest so he can feel your steady heartbeat, "This may sound strange, but...I love your hands!" You exclaim, earning a confused look from the lion, "I love them because they're yours! I mean, how could I not love everything about you?" The other man continues to look at you in bewilderment, "And it's not just love, I trust you too! So if you can't trust yourself, then trust in the me that trusts you! That's why we're together, isn't it?"

Leona looks stunned for a moment before releasing his hand from your grasp, but unfurling his legs, "Being with me...it'll only get harder from here. I won't blame ya if ya decide to go back on your choice now..." He practically whispers while turning his head away.

Slightly frustrated, you quickly move so that you're straddling the other man so he can't turn away, "You say that like I'm not actively choosing you everyday, even now." You state plainly as if it were a fact of life, which it may as well be to you, as Leona's eyes widen, "No matter what happens, no matter what these hands do from here on out, know that I'm with you, one hundred percent." You finish as you guide his hand up to cup your cheek and this time, you don't have to keep it there for him.

[iwander12]

How children and aging are depicted in LittleBigPlanet + Sackboy's canonical age

I've been wanting to write this post for a while now! This topic i find rather interesting as i'm in that turning point in life of being a newborn adult lol

I'm going to apologize beforehand though for my lack of knowledge about LBP PS Vita in case it had some relevancy to this post. It is the only full release i haven't played :( I'd also like the apologize for the strange pacing in this post- there's a lot to go through and otherwise I'd never get it done.

Do sackpeople age?

Yeah!

Perhaps the earliest* and obvious example are the child portrait stickers of the Creator Curators in LBP2. Most of them (aside from Eve) are used in the first proper level Rookie Test, in pictures of Larry giving flowers to Victoria and Avalon, Clive and Higginbotham graduating. In LBP3, there's a sticker of Newton as a baby in Nana Pud's hands. Sackboy: A Big Adventure has a prequel comic called "The Gathering Storm" starring Scarlet which depicts her as a child.

What do sackfolk look like growing up?

Considering baby Newton fit into Nana Pud's already small hands, babies must be really tiny.

SABA has the first example of a child in the games physically with the Death Stranding costume. Baby...

Wait, a baby sackperson is just a tiny sackperson?

*So this means that the Mini Sackboy item from LBP1 is a baby... (Yeah, it's not a plush. It's alive. It blinks.)

It's a fact that sackpeople use their children as fashion accessories. How delightful yet incredibly strange!

Child Scarlet is a little shorter than the shoulders of a standard sackperson. (She's the only example we have, so excuse the brevity... well there's Hildur, but I'm not sure if she counts as a sackling)

What about a teenager?

As previously established, there is a portrait of Avalon, Clive and Higginbotham graduating, though it's not specified whether they're graduating from high school or college, which would make them either roughly teenagers or young adults at that time. Clive is shorter than the other two in the past yet is about their height in-game, so it's more likely they were teenagers and Clive hit his growth spurt after graduation. A series of promotional videos released for LBP1 called "Life in LittleBigPlanet" state that a fully grown Sackperson is 8 centimeters tall.

Newton is said to have flunked out of the Popit Academy after one semester. Completing term 1 of Popit Puzzles will land you this neat graduation outfit.

It's also unspecified in-game whether the Popit Academy is a high school or a college, but considering its logo and what was described of Newton, it's definitely a college. (I am unsure of the system in England, but here in the US if you fail a semester of high school you just continue as usual and make up what you missed as additional work, instead of being kicked or dropped out.)

Newton's insecurities lie in his belief that he'll never live up to his father, and flunking out played into that. This is what led up to him wanting to use the Titans, to prove his potential to the world, and letting Bunkum's residents (including himself) make better use of its creativity. Of course there's no time range or limit to attend college, but most people tend to pursue it directly after high school, and coupled with Newton's bruised pride and desperation, let's assume for the sake of this post that Newton attended college straight away and is a young adult.

Most of the other sackling characters can easily be identified as adults or elders.

But what about .... YOU? Or, well, Sackboy... er...

The player vs. the character

It's a bit hard to define the separation of a character that's intended to be an expression of you versus yourself, because that separation is defined by yourself as well.

Let's say that the aspects of Sackboy that AREN'T decided/customized by the player are what is hard canon about him: This includes the official story levels, as you don't have a choice but to proceed, and less noticable things such as his personality and actions in the tutorial videos+ ads, and what's in his wardrobe (which is every single costume piece in the game. doesn't mean he wears it though. I wonder how cold he usually is).

Now, without you, who is Sackboy? He's a heroic sackling that has gone on many death-defying adventures across the globe and beyond. He's silent, gender non conforming and has a neverending amount of PlayStation cosplays. He goofs around with the narrator and knows how to use all game mechanics.

And, without your input, how old is he?

How old is Sackboy?

We've sorta already answered this question.

Sackboy is a physically fully grown sackling, as he is 8 centimeters tall. This would make him a teenager at the very youngest.

He has attended and graduated from Popit Academy, a college, which edges him into potential young adult or just general adult territory. (Teenagers can also attend college of course, but that's less common)

Having mentioned his wardrobe before, he has a lot of things that children typically wouldn't wear, including the aforementioned graduation outfit, facial hair, wedding outfits, fishnets, a speedo...among more

In SABA, he can wear piercings and a cute choker!

I'm not going to demonstrate this for obvious reasons, but there is even official art of him with genitalia. Go look at Media Molecule's Flickr if you really want to see it. Hell, knowing that and Mm's sense of humor, his name is rather inappropriate too. (I try to ignore this for the sake of my remaining childhood innocence.)

The Twitter is weird

There are a few tweets by the official LittleBigPlanet twitter that "state" Sackboy's age. These are actually referring to the franchise's age at the time they were posted. (Remember that LBP1 was released October 2008 and do some simple math)

(The GIF says "Happy 12th Birthday Sackboy)

Sackboy: A Big Adventure is weird

Sackboy is definitely NOT a child- why, after a decade of this being established, does he sound like one in SABA?

To help explain this decision, this game can be described as a "soft reboot". It doesn't retcon or change anything about the past, but it presents it in a new way for new and/or unfamiliar audiences. (aka marketability.)

Sackboy was completely silent before and now he's shouting "YEAH! WOOHOO!" every 3 seconds. His voice is very high pitched, youthful and would come off to most people as a child's voice.

I tried to look into his voice actor in the past, but the only other thing they are credited for is Tearaway. It's possible they were credited under a pseudonym, but either way we don't know how old they are or how they are typecast.

Why does Sackboy, a grown man with cock and balls, sound so much like a little boy?

THATS BECAUSE SACKBOY IS CANONICALLY TRANSGENDER HAPPY PRIDE MONTH🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈

[jungnoir]

hello!! truth be told, i am not entirely certain if your requests are open and stuff, if they aren't, please forgive me, it's honestly my first time requesting so i'm really worried that i am gonna mess up, please don't hate me :((( do you think there's a chance that you'll write some youngk or wonpil fluff (or rival!au,,, or anything would be great,,, honestly) any time soon? if not, that's totally okay, i hope i didn't bother you, thank you regardless and have a great day!!

anatomically correct heart-shaped pretzel;

kim wonpil | food service is way more competitive and romantic than you’d think, believe it or not. rival!au. mall!au. | 1.6k words. | fluff, humor.

a/n: ahhh you’re okay!!! thank you for being so polite. I’m not officially accepting requests as I’m sort of just writing whenever I want to and dropping in. usually, I will announce that I’m writing requests on my blog and leave it open for a certain amount of time. however, I’m being pretty casual with things so I totally don’t mind this request at all! here’s rival kiosk workers at the mall with wonpil

“He’s at it again. Look at him; he’s got an evil look in those puppy dog eyes, that dead customer service smile, that high-pitched “have a good day!” pep in his step. I want to wring his neck like a Shake Weight.”

Your coworker, Dowoon, pauses in the middle of refilling the fruity pebbles toppings to give you a disturbed look, “Okay, Jesus. What is wrong with you?”

You glare right back, “It’s fucking pretzel boy Wonpil showing off again.”

“You mean doing his job?”

Grumbling a “showing off” under your breath, you turn around again to continue your angry brooding when you happen to catch Wonpil’s eyes between serving customers. His friendly smile quickly turns malicious, the boy having the audacity to drop his eyelid down in a wink before going about his business again, annoyingly unbothered by your seething not 20 feet away.

Dowoon was convinced that you were paranoid. Ever since that new pretzel kiosk popped up next to your once very thriving frozen yogurt shop, you’d been noticing business trailing elsewhere. People were trading gummy bears for salty bread and Wonpil’s “personable” attitude, something that you couldn’t quite get over. He wasn’t personable at all. You knew the real truth and yet no one believed you.

It had all started two months back when they’d first opened. You had thought Wonpil to look actually pleasant to talk to, deciding to befriend your new competition to be friendly which, unfortunately, massively backfired. Perhaps you were too bubbly, too optimistic on the first go, because Wonpil seemed to immediately bristle upon greeting. That was your first sign that things were going steadily downhill.

Your next sign was how aware you were that you were dominating the conversation. It seemed like no matter how much you tried to fish out of Wonpil, he wouldn’t budge. His answers were short, blunt, and disconcerting to say the least. After a few failed attempts, you’d promptly agreed with yourself that perhaps Wonpil was just one of those people who went to work, did their job, and left it at that. But then the customers came rolling in.

He was a totally different guy, the bastard.

Everything. From the way he lit up to the way his voice rose several octaves to the way he laughed out loud at every terrible customer joke. It was a pang to your admittedly offended heart. Was there something wrong with you? Did you smell? Was he just having a bad day earlier? It had thrown you pretty off for the rest of your shift, even catching the attention of one of your other usually aloof co-workers: Sungjin.

You just couldn’t place it. You obviously didn’t want to think he simply disliked you and only you, but it was all you had to go on. Why was he so averse to you when you’d done nothing to him? ...as far as you knew, anyway.

He was even nice to Dowoon! What did Dowoon have that you didn’t?!

And then, then, Wonpil started to notice you, but for all the wrong reasons.

It was through knowing smirks and condescending winks that you began to kindle your delicate hatred-baby for Wonpil. He knew he was peeving you off. He knew that when you’d watch him with that barely veiled look of yearning in your eyes for acceptance that he could simply look your way and you’d fluster. He wasn’t kind. He was a jerk. Wonpil was an absolute asshole and no one seemed to think so except you.

Your co-workers called it a friendly rivalry. You called it war.

He was super keen on stealing your customers too, drawing them in from your shop to get them to buy those damn pretzels, just to see you squirm and fumble to turn their attention back. When he’d win, he’d get this smug look on his face and gnaw his bottom lip with a hooded gaze cast your way, practically relishing in your anger and humiliation. You’d dreamt of all the ways you could make that little pipsqueak sing for mercy-

“Hey! Can you do your job or do I need to stand you on the other side of the counter as a cardboard cutout?” Dowoon’s annoyance is not easy to ignore even in the midst of your daydream, and unfortunately, that meant that you would have to come back to your reality. Your cold, Wonpilly reality.

With a lack of vigor that could rival a pubescent boy in band practice, you continue your shift in a disgruntled haze. You don’t want to think you’re being childish about it, but you can often feel Wonpil’s eyes on you while you work, and it’s enough to make you rightfully paranoid. You know the minute you look up that he’s going to have some patronizing expression on his face and, honestly, you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself back from punching it clean off. Only fifteen more minutes, you think to yourself, counting down til the end of your shift. Fifteen more minutes and then I’m out of here.

Dowoon eventually leaves early, mentioning he has a date tonight and that he doesn’t want to be late, and you mumble an affirmative to clean and lock up for him. You’ve got no such plans for the evening, instead planning to relax and enjoy the weekend Wonpil-free. As customers slow to almost nothing, you decide it’s a good time to start closing up.

As you’re sweeping away the debris on the floor, you hear the sound of a fist knocking against glass and decide to look up, ready to shoo away a customer who came too late. Instead of a customer, it’s something much worse.

“Hey,” Wonpil says, one hand in his puffy jacket pocket, the other holding a small take-away bag from the pretzel place, “heading out tonight?”

You’re so stunned by his attempt at casual conversation that you forget to be mean, staring at him in confusion, “Uh... no. Why?”

Wonpil looks both relieved and surprised, clutching the bag a little closer to himself, “Oh... uh, well it’s just that... you know, it’s Valentine’s day. I assumed you had a date.”

Your brain is a Windows blue screen right now. Was it... oh, fuck, how could you have missed it? Today was February the 14th. You flush soon after. No, you had no date. “Nope... but I bet you do. If you came here to gloat about it, don’t even bother. I’m too tired to deal with you right now.”

A look of hurt flashes across Wonpil’s visage, “I didn’t... that’s not why I came over.”

“Then why?” You can’t hide the tired exasperation in your voice, “You closed up already, didn’t you? Just go home. I’m not in the mood.”

That same hurt flashes again and part of you almost wants to feel bad about it. 

Wonpil reaches into the bag with a trembly bottom lip, “I-I came over to apologize. And to give you this.”

In his hand now is a heart shaped pretzel, but not just the traditional heart shape. No, it was anatomically correct. Scarily so. It was also piping hot and looked rather tasty after a long day of work. You rarely indulged yourself in the enemy’s goods, but... “What do you mean, apologize?”

“I uh... I kinda totally screwed up. The thing is, I don’t hate you like you think I do. I actually really like you. I know that I don’t show it and it’s not much of an excuse, but it’s just... when I first met you, I was really, really nervous. You were so kind and funny and attractive... I froze up,” your eyes begin to bulge as he holds the pretzel out to you, “and I couldn’t act normally around you. Then people started saying we were rivals so I ran with it. Anything to get you to look at me.”

You check Wonpil’s face to see if he’s lying. He’s not, as far as you can tell, but you’d been a bad judge of his character before, “That’s really stupid, Wonpil.”

Instead of looking upset however, he laughs lightheartedly... like you’d kinda hoped he would laugh around you all along. It’s a sweet sound. You don’t even want to wring his neck right now. “I know. I don’t expect that to fix anything, but I still wanted to give you something. You can stomp it or throw it in the trash or feed it to the raccoon couple near Macy’s, I don’t mind. I just wanted you to know that I’m a really stupid guy who has a kind of embarrassingly huge crush on you. Happy Valentine’s day, (Name). I hope... I hope that we can at least be friends. Or enemies with a truce.”

Sincere. He was actually being sincere right now.

You drop the dustpan and push the swinging half-door open to leave your little kiosk, watching Wonpil as he turns to face you, pretzel still outstretched. You take it form his hands and watch his shoulders deflate in relief. A little overwhelmed with the fact that he’d just confessed to you, you test the waters, “So uh... you busy, Wonpil?”

The boy blinks rapidly, “N-No. Why?”

You take a bite from the warm pretzel and almost let out a humiliating moan in content. Goddamn, this boy made some mean pretzels. How could you ever turn that down? “There’s a movie playing in the theater upstairs in an hour. You know, that really bad remake? You wanna catch it together?”

Wonpil lets out an immediate “Yes. But... what do you wanna do until then?”

For the first time in two months, you allow Wonpil one real, warm smile once more, “You can start by finally answering all those questions I asked about you two months ago, for a start. I’d like to get to know my rival a little better.”

[chenles-moonpies]

Mission, failed

• An nct mafia au, chapter 1

• 2k words

-----

"You go to china, find the boy, bring him back. Plain and simple."

"Plain and simple my ass. Does he know how many people are here!?" Winwin cursed as he looked around the corner from a fight they were observing. Taeyong, leader of his gang NCT, had sent him and Yuta on a mission to track down someone that fancied his eye. Normally Winwin did an exceptional job at spy work, but being paired with Yuta lately has had it’s consequences. "Also why am I with you?” Winwin complained,  “You don't speak a lick of Chinese and always mess up important details." The two had been paired together recently after Yuta begged a reluctant Taeyong to do so for weeks without consulting Winwin. He agreed eventually, “Fine. but I'm not sending you in the private jet when you go to China. Just Business class.” He had told Yuta.

"I'm offended. You know the rules! No solo missions." Yuta reminded his friend, "Unless you're in-"

"What's going on over there?" Cheers, or rather yells, were piercing the air around them. Citizens flocked to the middle of the bustling shopping roads where a fight broke out. Winwin and Yuta looked at each other before racing over to see as well. 

"I think that's the one." Yuta whispered. The crowd was rather large so it was a bit difficult to see, however Taeyongs words echoed loosely in his mind. "Short hair, gets in fights, Winwin I think we're done!" Yuta smiled brightly at the taller male. His response was a bit delayed. Could it really be him? Wasn't he a bit… small? 

"You IDIOTS!" Taeyong yelled, hands banging down on his desk. "I told you exactly what he looks like and what do you do? Bring me someone not any bigger than a Dream member!?" 

The man scoffed, "I'm not that small-?"

"Look, you want us to do well? Stop sending me with him!" Winwin fought back, pointing back to his partner. Yuta's face grew rather disgusted, if not disappointed. "What do you mean?" He questioned. "You always mess around and distract me." Winwin huffed. 

"Then stop getting distracted. It's not hard!" Taeyong bellowed. The room grew quiet until the tied up boy spoke, “You guys seem tense. Maybe you should take a bath or something, some tea might help, maybe some Vodka-”

“Shut up!” Taeyong shouted, cutting him off. The four men stood in Taeyong’s office for a moment, unsure of what to do. “I’m sorry, sir. Should we bring him back to China?” Winwin spoke sheepishly, suddenly aware that he should probably just comply with his boss.

“Are you insane or did you break into the drug stash on floor 15? We can’t let him go now. Leave him with me,” Taeyong sat down onto his chair and spun to face his back to the other three men, “I’ll talk to him.” Winwin and Yuta promptly left while bickering quietly. The door shut quietly with a click. “Ok, let's get to it,” Taeyong pulled up a pen and paper, “Name, date of birth, nationality, family and blood type please.” The man shuffled out of the ties restricting him, 

“People call me Ten. I was born 27th of February 1996, I have a mother and father and sister and I don’t know my blood type.”

“Whatever, we’ll just get someone in to test you. You didn't tell me your nationality.”

“Well i’m not Chinese as you thought.” 

“I didn't ask where you aren’t from, I asked where you are fr-”

“Why do you need to know, huh?” 

Taeyong stared at Ten with sharp fury. But that was only the exterior he showed. Inside he was shocked. No one had ever interrupted him like that. 16 members prior to Ten and it hasn't happened once. And that wasn't even the ones he had to “dismiss”

“Just tell me where you're from, pretty boy.”

Ten looked around at the pointings that hung around Taeyong’s office, “Is this you? Who painted it? Their brush technique is very… unique.”

“I Think you’d better sit down and tell me where you’re from before we have a problem.” Taeyong spoke through gritted teeth

“Thailand.”

“Was that so hard?” Taeyong pulled some papers from his desk, “Sit down, Ten.”

“Fine,” he responded, “But I'm sitting because I want to. Not because you told me to.” 

Taeyong slid a thin pile of papers across his desk and into the other man’s lap. 

“I’m not reading all that.” Ten said, picking up the pile.

“Don’t worry, I'll give you the summary.” He sat back in his chair, “This is the NCT X Building. Its headquarters for the NCT gang. I prefer the term mafia but… to each their own.”

“Oh, shit ok.” Ten pulled out a pair of glasses from a pocket in his silk shirt.

“Long story short my father founded the mafia and I took over after the incident. I never liked the way he ran it so i changed a lot of things. So if you ever think I'm treating you unfairly i’ll remind you he was incomprehensibly worse.”

“So you’re recruiting me?” 

“Call it what you want, you’re lucky I didn't just kill you.”

“Fair enough.” 

“You’ll get to meet the other members soon but essentially there are two sections: 127 and Dream. 127 handles korean affairs, mainly based in Seoul. Dream…” Taeyong paused to laugh, “Honestly it's more of an experiment than anything and the only reason I'm maintaining it is because they’re good kids and you can't exactly leave this organisations unless you leave in a hearse.”

Hang on, did you say ‘kids’?” 

“Yes, they're all pretty young. The youngest is 17 though so don't worry they aren’t too young. Anyway Dream only really handles very minor affairs but they've been doing well.”

“Jesus, you’re not gonna put me with them, are you?” 

Taeyong laughed, “You should be so lucky. You’ll probably get put into 127 but for now you’re a trainee. Sign here.”

Taeyong presented ten with a black piece of paper with a light grey print and a white signature line. “That's some shady shit, man.” Ten said,

“Fine,” Taeyong took the paper away, “this is a gang, you don't actually have to sign it,” He said, signing the name ‘Ten’ in neat cursive on the white line, “It’s just so the less intelligent members get a sense of security from the legitimacy of a contract. But you seem smart, so you don’t need that.” Ten laughed quietly in response,

“Now,” Taeyong whispered, pressing a black button on his desk, triggering the large mahogany doors to open, “Would you like to meet the others?"

"You said there's sixteen others, right? Why so many?" Ten questioned, following his new leader out of the room. "I have my reasons. This way."

The hallways were long, some narrow, Ten noted. It wasn't dark like he imagined gang buildings to be either. Most rooms had a large glass window to show into it but a few were kept a secret behind locked doors. They peaked his interest for sure, so the male made a mental note to explore once he has a bit more freedom. 

"In here is the main break room on the floor. Usually you can find Johnny, Jaehyun, or maybe even Jeno in here." 

"So many J names." Ten laughed. Taeyong couldn't disagree there. "Come in." He nodded his head as he opened the door. 

"Johnny, Jaehyun, meet Ten." Taeyong said, introducing him. Johnny nodded while Jaehyun presented his hand. "You must be the new recruit!" Another voice spoke out. A head popped over the edge of the old, slightly tattered, orange couch in the corner of the room. "Who are you?" Ten asked.

"Mark Lee. I'm in all the units. Well, was."

"What do you mean, aren't there only two?"

"He was in dream but graduated. He doesn't have an official position yet."

"That's why I'm in all of them. In Hopes of finding out." Mark said, pointing his thumb and finger at Ten like he held a real gun. "Enough chat. Anyone know where Doyoung went?" Taeyong asked. Everyone shook their heads no. 

"Maybe in U-" 

"Right, later then. I'm sure someone is in the cafeteria." Taeyong blurted, interrupting Mark. The leader walked out, the heavy door slamming behind them. "Mark, you idiot. No one can know about U so soon!" Jaehyun scolded, smacking the younger boy on the shoulder.

"What's U? I don't understand." Ten asked, his mind buzzing to know what secrets Taeyong was keeping. He'll be damned if he gives up trying to find out. "Who knows Honestly. Kid is so overworked I don't think he would know where his head was if it weren't attached." 

Taeyong re-entered, brushing something off his shirt, and was immediately bombarded with Ten’s questioning "What positions were they all?" Ten asked. 

“Does this guy ever shut up? Why does he want to know everything so bad…?"  Taeyong thought. "Johnny is the muscle. I count on him to keep people in check, sometimes to do the dirty work. Jaehyun is 127s Charmer."

"Charmer?"

"Every talented mafia needs someone to swoon others to get desired information." 

"That desperate huh?"

"You won't understand. Not yet."

Ten took in his sudden surroundings as he noticed Taeyong had been leading him down a couple flights of stairs. "Elevators?" He asked. Taeyong shook his head. "Not to the floor we're going to. Doyoung likes his privacy." 

After walking for what seemed like hours, Taeyong and Ten finally got to their desired floor. “I get this dude wants his privacy but this is ridiculous.” Ten complained, pretending to be out of breath. Taeyong let out a small laugh, “You know, Ten, I hope your sense of humour helps you get around obstacles and doesn't cause you problems.” 

“Well,I'd be lying if I said they hadn’t before.” The two approached a tall, oak door with a silver “DY” on it next to an eye hole. “Kind of weird that you guys have peep holes on bedrooms.” Ten said as he got on his tiptoes to look through it, “It’s blacked out!”

“Mhm. Everyone but me is supposed to have an eyehole to make sure no one’s up to any funny business but Doyoung has a tendency to disagree with that rule.”

“Ah.” 

Taeyong knocked three times on the door before opening it, “Doyoung, you’ve got company!” He yelled. A tall, slender man with dark wet hair entered from around the corner, “Taeyong, you might be everyone’s boss but you can't just come in here unannounced. I’m your right hand man not your slave,” he looked up from tying a black robe around himself, “I don’t just do whatever you want me to like the others d-” He paused, “What does he want?” 

Taeyong laughed, “Doyoung, you’ve never been the best at making people feel welcome.”

“This looks like a Jaehyun thing.”

“Huh?” Ten looked at Doyoung, puzzled,

“Is this another ‘date in exchange for information’ thing because I'm not doing that again, that's why we have Jaehyun.” Doyoung walked back around the corner.

“No, it’s not.” Taeyong yelled over to him, “And if it was, you’re not supposed to say that to the person.”

Doyoung re-entered from around the corner now fully dressed in a white dress shirt, a silk tie, and tailored slacks. “I have to go out.”

“I don’t remember you telling me that.” Taeyong responded.

“I don’t remember me needing to.” Doyoung pushed passed the two men.

“My name’s Ten.” Ten shouted as Doyoung started up the stairs,

“Thats nice.”

“He’s going to be rooming with you for now.” Taeyong yelled.

“What?!” Doyoung came back down the stairs.

“It’s only temporary while we make up a room for him. Everyone has a roommate and they have smaller rooms. You’re alone and you have a room that could fit at least five people.”

Doyoung stared angrily at Ten, “Fine. But if this lasts more than a week, You and I,” Doyoung looked Ten up and down, “We’re gonna have a problem.”

“I’ll see you around, Doyoung.” Ten responded with a smile. Doyoung stormed off leaving a tapping sound on the marble floor echoing throughout the halls.

Taeyong and Ten looked to each other as Ten laughed, “I like him.”

[killjoy-3000]

A Battle of the Elements: Chapter One

AO3 Link:

Word count: 2024

Warnings: A few bad language words, I think thats it.

So this is my second official fanfiction, and I think it turned out okay? For chapter one, at least. I will try to post more chapters, but no promises, as I am a major procrastinator. Leave a comment, reblog, or a like if you enjoy!

Patton took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air. Walking through the front doors of Sandy Grove high school, he pasted on a smile. With luck, this would be the last school he ever attended. Waving at a few students that walked past, Patton started towards the front office. He had already registered in the school a few days prior, but he didn't yet have his locker combination or list of classes.

      Once he grabbed everything he needed, the cheery-looking boy found his locker and placed his things into it. Adding a few animal pun stickers to the sides of his locker, he gave a firm nod. This was his new school, and he wouldn't mess up. Not like all the other times.

      Patton stood after grabbing the things he needed for his first period. Turning around, he attempted to walk to his first class. As he sat on the floor, his things scattered around him, he realized that he had ran into someone. Looking over, he discovered that someone was a boy with dark purple hair, black eyeshadow under his eyes, and a baggie hoodie swallowing his skinny frame. 

      "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, I wasn't paying attention! Let me help you! Are you alright?" Patton jumped up as he said this, ignoring the bruise he could feel forming on his arm from hitting it against the locker. Holding his hand out, the shorter boy offered to help the other.

      Flinching at the hand, the boy scooted back. "I-I'm fine." He stood, glaring at Patton. "Watch where you're going." The mysterious boy grabbed his book that he had dropped, and walked away. Patton stood in the middle of the hall, confused. He decided to brush it off, thinking that the boy was having a bad day, and began to pick up his books. 

      A few hours later, Patton found himself in his fourth period class. In his nervousness for his first day of school, he had forgotten to eat breakfast, and was counting down the minutes until lunch. He had yet to make any friends, and hadn't even talked to anyone besides the teachers and the strange boy in the hall.

      The bell rang, signaling the end of fourth period. Only one class to go until lunch , Patton thought. Then, he realized that he would have no one to sit with. Maybe I can go outside. Walking into the classroom, he sat down in his assigned seat. This was the first class that had assigned seating, but Patton wasn't complaining. It just meant that people would actually sit near him.

    Looking around, he examined the people sitting around him. To his left, there was a serious looking student who wore a tie and glasses. His black hair was gelled back, and there wasn't anything out of place on his body. It was kind of scary how neat and tidy this guy looked. 

    Glancing to his right, Patton did a double take. The guy he had run into earlier was scrolling through his phone, not taking notice of anything around him. He didn't look very happy to be there, and his fingers kept tapping the desk and fiddling with his hoodie as he held his phone. He looked anxious about something, though Patton didn't know what.

    Finally, Patton glanced behind him, and saw a guy dressed in a white shirt with a little golden crown on it and blue jeans. His hair was gelled back as well, but it was in a messier fashion than the tidy guy. He was laughing at something his friend had said, and looked like a fairly popular dude. Maybe Patton could become friends with him? 

    As the class went on, Patton tried to initiate a conversation with the other students. He got scolded by the teacher once or twice, but no one seemed eager to talk to him. The bell rang for lunch, and he hadn't gotten anywhere. Resigning himself to his fate, he walked to his locker and put away his things, grabbing some lunch money. He would just sit outside and eat alone.

    Virgil sat in the bleachers, taking no notice of anything around him. It was late October, and he, loving the weather, often ate outside. He ate outside the rest of the year too, but he enjoyed it more this time of year. People didn't tend to be very nice to the dude wearing all black sitting in the back of the classroom, so he didn't bother trying to eat in the cafeteria.

    As he ate his sandwich, the boy watched a short, curly haired kid walk outside, lunchbox in hand. Upon closer inspection, Virgil realized it was the boy he had knocked over earlier in the hall. He looked pretty happy, and skipped over to the bleachers. Cursing, Virgil ducked inside of his hood, hoping the boy wouldn't recognize him. The universe didn't seem too keen on listening though, because as the boy looked up and saw Virgil, his smile got even wider. 

    "Hey! You're the kid from my English class! And the one I bumped into in the hall!" Rushing up the steps, the blue-eyed boy smiled at Virgil, and raised a hand as a greeting. "I'm Patton, nice to meet you. Officially, anyway. Sorry for knocking you down in the hallway earlier, I wasn't paying attention. You weren't hurt, were you?"

    Virgil raised his eyebrow, genuine confusion written on his face. Patton was… apologizing? For something that wasn't his fault? Realizing that he'd better say something, as it had been a few seconds, and Patton had asked a question, Virgil gave a small wave. "Uh, I'm Virgil. And I'm fine. Sorry I snapped at you earlier, I'm, ah, not much of a morning person."

    Patton shrugged, his smile somehow getting even wider. "No harm done." Seemingly pondering something, he paused. "So, uh, why aren't you inside? Do you not have anyone to sit with?" He looked sad at this, as though Virgil's loneliness was the worst thing in his life at the moment. 

    Virgil considered the questions, and shook his head. "It's not that I don't have anyone to sit with, it's that I don't have anyone I want to sit with." He shrugged, showing that it was no big deal, and returned to eating his lunch. "What about you? You seem, uh, friendly. Has no one invited you to sit with them yet?"

    At that remark, Patton seemed to deflate a bit. "Well, not exactly. Everyone looks like they already have their friend groups, and I wouldn't want to intrude." He sat down, and picked at the weird mush on his plate that resembled mashed potatoes. After a few seconds, he blinked, and looked up. "Do you have a friend group, Virgil?"

    Virgil stared at Patton for a moment. "Wh- Of course I do! What's that supposed to mean? They're just… preoccupied right now. They like to sit inside, and I don't. That's all." He looked away, staring at the school. While part of what he'd said was true, it wasn't the entire story. Remus and Dee were more popular than him, so even though they liked to hang out with Virgil, they didn't tend to eat outside with him very often. 

    After a few minutes of silent eating, Patton seemed to grow uncomfortable at the lack of conversation, and spoke up. "So, um, what's Sandy Grove like? I just moved here with my mom and grandmother, but I don't know much about it." He picked at the sleeves of his sweater, and bit his lip, as if asking Virgil these questions would harm either of them. 

    "It's a fairly boring town. We've got one store, an old, broken movie theater, and a cafe with cockroaches. There're 200 kids at the high school, and 300 at the elementary, which has grades K-8. There's nothing to do, nothing to see, and, quite frankly, I have no idea why you'd move here." Throwing his trash into his lunch sack, Virgil stood, and prepared to go inside. 

    "So have you lived here your whole life?" Asked Patton, still trying to make conversation. Giving a small nod, the darkly-dressed student began to walk inside. The other followed, rushing to keep up with Virgil's long strides. As they walked inside the building, the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch.

    The bell rang, and Logan gathered his books up for his next class. He had spent his lunch period in the library, as he usually does, and was now prepared for his Calculus test in his seventh period. He was walking through the halls, making his way to his sixth period, when he hit something. That something appeared to be a short boy with round glasses, curly blond hair, and freckles. 

    As the shorter boy fell, Logan grabbed his arm, stopping his descent. He stumbled over his feet, but managed to catch the other. They stood there for a few seconds, each of their eyes wide, until Logan came to his senses and straightened up. He let go of the small boys hand, and grabbed the books that fell to the floor. 

    "Are you alright?" He asked in a calm voice, though his heart was racing. He felt bad, as he hadn't even noticed the boy in front of him until they had almost fallen on each other. The other nodded, taking his books from Logan's hands gratefully. "Thanks," said the freckled student quietly. "Sorry for running into you."

    He looked ... scared. Almost as if he thought Logan were going to yell at him. "It's fine. No one got hurt. Just watch where you are going next time." He told the boy, looking over him once more to make sure he was okay. When the boy nodded his understanding, Logan turned away to walk to his class. Unbeknownst to him, the short boy watched him leave, awe written all over his face. 

    For the rest of the day, Logan questioned why the boy he had run into looked so fearful and timid. Surely he hadn't looked that mean, had he? While people told him all the time he had a "resting bitch face", he didn't ever think it was that mean looking. Maybe he should work on softening it, so as not to scare anyone else. 

    Later that day, when Logan arrived at his house, he began on a project due in a few weeks. Better to get a head start than to never start at all. After working on it for around an hour, he got out his planner and looked over it, checking to make sure he had done everything he needed to that day. When it seemed like he was ahead on all of his assignments, he slumped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling.

    The stars on his walls and ceiling had been there since Logan was in fourth grade. His best friend at the time had helped him stick the small, glowing stars everywhere they could think of, and even now, seven years later, they all remained unmoved. His father thought they were foolish decorations, but he couldn't bring himself to get rid of them. They represented a large part of his childhood, and he would sooner get a B on an assignment than trash them. 

    It was funny, he supposed, that he loved space. The sky full of stars and far away planets was one of Logan's greatest passions. He had even considered becoming an astronaut when he was younger, but he knew it would never happen. As terrified of heights as he was, even thinking of going up there, thousands of miles above the ground, made him feel physically sick. 

    He got up and walked out of his room, careful to be quiet. It was around nine p.m., and his father didn't like him to be outside after it got dark. Stepping carefully, Logan made his way through the large, empty house, and finally arrived outside. He went over to his favorite spot in the large yard, and lay down, letting the feeling of the grass and the cool night air wash over him.