#the nicer weather cheers me up a little i guess

[atzsslut]

requested by @let-this-be-a-lesson from this, and this list.

chosen prompt(s) : 

#1 - “Is that my sweater?”

#11 - “If you were my boyfriend/girlfriend/partner, I’d probably never stop staring at you.”

pairing : bang chan x fem ! reader

genre : fluff 

warnings : long time best friends, very obvious crushing, kind of more than friends (unidentified relationship) to lovers, implied slow burn 

word count : 2.4k words

You promised to meet Chan almost an hour ago. 

The adrenaline coursed through your body as you ran out of the bathroom after a shower, which was relatively dangerous but you didn’t care, sprinting back to your room to get into some decent clothing. 

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you almost punched it from the frustration. But you didn’t, of course, as if you didn’t have enough bad luck already.  

Are you that stupid to have fallen asleep on the couch? You thought to yourself. You were much too thankful that you already washed your hair in the morning, so it looked good enough now. 

As you dropped your towel, you swore that you’ve never grabbed such a mismatched set of underwear and bra before, but it didn’t matter. You’d opt yourself to become quicksilver if it was for Chan. 

Your hands let themselves skim through until your phone lit up on top of your cupboard and showed three notifications from the man himself. You froze in your spot reading the following messages. 

chan: okay :( if u insist [5:02 PM]

chan: but since u seem tired [5:03 PM]

chan: i’ll pick u up since i’m only 10 mins away [5:03 PM]

Your mind went back to when you had woken up to three missed calls from Chan, various texts asking if you were alright since you never missed a ‘hangout’. At least, that’s what you two always called your frequent meets. 

Your first instinct was to call him back, your voice rather nasally from the blocked nose you always got after sleeping. His kind voice kept replaying in your head;

“Chan, I’m so so sorry-”

“Oh, did you just wake up?”

“I.. yes. Yes I did. I’m so sorry, I fell asleep because I ran a million errands up until 3pm.”

“Hey, no. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Do you want to move our hangout to some other day? I think I’m quite free this week.”

“No, no. I need to see you, honestly. My stress has piled up and it’ll be great to see you. You always cheer me up.”

“I try my best, Y/N. I’ll wait for you as long as you’d like. Go get ready!”

“Will do, Mr. Bang. Thank you so so much!”

The last thing you heard after the call ended was his farewell that was mixed in with his infectious laugh, and that was when you ran towards the shower to get the thin layer of sweat that always came after a nap in the living room.

Your fingers quickly typed away a ‘did god send u down to me as my angel or smthn THANK U BANG CHAN’ before going back to rushing to pick out a nicer outfit. 

Because of him willing to pick you up, you had an extra ten minutes to get ready but your mind was still blank from the adrenaline rush. You had picked yourself out a cream-coloured pleated skirt, but you had no idea what to pair it with until you saw a familiar black sweater pushed to the back of the drawer. 

You weren’t too sure why it was familiar to you, but it was nice enough for you to use with the skirt. For a reason you couldn’t pinpoint, it hugged your body well enough, but the area where you could see the stitch of the shoulders were clearly too broad for you, falling around the middle of your upper arms. 

Strange, you thought, I don’t remember buying this but it’s so comfortable. 

And just like he said, Chan was there in ten minutes, voice heard through your apartment intercom, asking you to come downstairs. Although you tried to ignore it, you were excited just from hearing his voice through that old system speaker. 

Taking the elevator down to the lobby, you smiled seeing the boy standing around, clearly waiting for you to come down, as he kept shifting his feet. 

It was music to his ears as well when he heard you call out his name. Although he would never admit it, or so he thinks, he swore that he heard a hymn whenever ‘Chan’ spilled from your lips. But he shook that away when he reached in for a side hug. 

“Hey you.” he said, “You look awfully fresh for someone who just woke up.”

“I work my magic.” you boasted, not wanting to admit the fuss you made for him. Since Chan was a bit taller than you, not by too much (which you teased him about, but he only let it be because it was you), you held onto him as well by slinging your arm around his waist. 

And as you both walked to the parking lot at the front, stuck together like two pieces of paper with a hefty amount of glue in the middle, that was when Chan stopped right in front of his car. 

You looked at him with concern, thinking that he’d probably left something inside, “Did you forget something?”  

He paused, looking at you with the face he’d make whenever Felix did something strange. That wasn’t new, but you felt flustered when he let you go and stood in front of you, arms crossed, eyes checking out your whole body. 

You looked at him strange, not understanding what he was doing. Your hand only clutched your bag strap harder, not understanding the situation. But before you could say anything, he cut you off. 

“Is that my sweater?”

And the realization hit you. 

A few months ago, Chan had gone to your place to spend some time with you after not getting to meet you for three weeks. But of course, the two of you did not look at the weather forecast when a rainstorm dawned over the whole of Seoul. 

You insisted that Chan should not be driving in this weather in fear of a accident, but he did have to get his car to the indoor parking lot incase it began to hail. However, once he had gotten back, the umbrella you had given him was soaked and so was he, the two of you getting into a hysterical laughing fit at the state he was in. 

In all seriousness, you did quickly get him out of the clothes he was wearing and washed them, shyly looking away when he directly began to take his shirt off in the living room until you yelled “Chan! I have a bathroom!”

However, as the night passed, after he slept in the same bed as you, finding his arm around your waist in the morning to which he quickly pulled away in surprise— he left with only his jeans and socks that had been dry cleaned. 

“Oh shit, this is your sweater!” you swore, the event having replayed itself in your forgetful mind, “I’ll clean it after this and give it back to you.”

“Oh, no. You look better in it than I do.” he complimented. 

In between your reminiscing, he had clicked the car key, making the vehicle make the familiar unlocking sound and flashing lights. Running over to your side, he opened the door for you. 

“M’lady.” he offered, 

“M’Chan.” you joked, only to laugh for a bit then go in with a murmured, “Sorry that was cheesy.” 

“It was!” he admitted, yelling so you could hear him through the car glass since you closed the door already. He did his little jog over to the drivers seat and went it rather smoothly, not that you were impressed by that. 

“So, arcade?” he asked, smiling when you nodded and tapped excitedly on his dashboard. 

Once again, in ten minutes, the two of you had reached the destination, quickly running out as if the both of you were six, and not in your early 20s. 

As you ran into building, fluorescent hitting your eyes with a familiar nostalgia coming alongside them, much too familiar from the high school days of you and Chan going to another arcade that was already closed down now. 

“So, what do you want to do first?” you asked, as if you didn’t guess the answer already. 

Chan looked forward, scanning the place more and finally seeing a row of big,  bulky, metal boxes that couldn’t be missed. He pointed at them, rather cutely to add, smiling down at you. 

You gave him an excited grin back, happy that you guessed right in your head. You walked ahead, pleased to hear him tread behind you at a faster pace to catch up with you.

Drawing back the curtain, the two of you went inside and swiped the arcade card that you had because of several trips that were forced by your auntie with your little cousins. Luckily, there was still money inside. 

The recognizable ‘twinkling’ sound of the photo booth rang in both your ears, opting you to choose the frame decor, etc. 

And as the screen showed both your faces, a robotic voice was heard through the same speakers at the sides of the booth, stating ‘please move more towards the centre, thank you’ 

But if anyone were to look inside, you and Chan were already considerably close, especially since the bench space wasn’t wide at all. But you side-eyed the boy, scooting closer to him as he did the same to you. 

You felt his arm squish against yours, feeling flustered at the sudden contact. 

“Can..uh..” he trailed, “Can I put my arm around you? I.. I think it’ll make the pictures look less awkward, don’t you think?”

“Y-yeah!” you responded a bit too enthusiastically. Clearing your throat, you gave him the gentle smile that he could never hate, “Yeah. Go ahead, Chan.”

He did as he asked. Unlike the playful hug that you two had shared in your apartment lobby, this one felt more intimate, especially when you saw the screen reflecting the two of you. 

You could feel his rings dig against his cotton sweater on your body, assuming now that it was yours, comfortable enough for you to feel secure— at home. Nevertheless, you always felt that Chan was your home. 

Your eyes fixated on the screen as you moved forward to press the red button that would soon make you both take simultaneous pictures together. 

We look good together, you thought to yourself, Wait what? Shut up. 

But why did this feel different? You two had taken hundreds of photos together, varied with ridiculous, attractive, and unnecessary ones. But you swallowed that wondering lump in your throat, quickly dismissing it as you posed with Chan for each one, your vision rather blurry for a reason you couldn’t pinpoint. 

And as the twelve clicks ended, Chan stood up first. You were quite upset about the absence of his embrace, but didn’t mind it when he smiled at you like he always did,

“Let’s see the pictures.” he held his hand out for you to take, which you graciously did, feeling the pit of your stomach drop as you, as per usual, questioned what your relationship with him was at this point. 

The two pairs of feet, albeit the both of you were wearing matching shoes on accident, met their way towards the printing area. Looking at the screen which read 99% complete, Chan heard the sound of the photo paper hit the stopper that avoided the prints from falling on the ground. 

He bent down and took it, showing it to you. Naturally, your arms went around his left bicep, hugging it to look closer. Chan sucked in his breath, knowing that if he was in a cartoon right now, his brown head of hair would be sticking up in all places as a silhouette of his heart pumped dramatically out of his chest. 

It was ironic, as most of your friends would say; it was ironic how you two hugged often but got shy whenever your hands would simpy graze, it was ironic how you two were so affectionate yet were so resistant, and it was very ironic that your ‘hangouts’ weren’t dates at this point. 

He watched as you pointed at his face from top to bottom, questioning, 

“You’re not even facing the camera in most of these! Stop looking at me and look at the lens next time. Do you want to retake these?”

Your question wasn’t too hard, but you didn’t understand why Chan looked at you with such solemn eyes, his eyebrows knitted together as if he was frustrated. But the look was soon replaced with one that held adoration, but that only increased your confusion. 

“I mean.. we don’t have to retake these, Chan. What do you want to do?” 

“If you were my girlfriend, I’d probably never stop staring at you.”

He didn’t know why he said that. Not a bone in his body was willing to let that out but his mind decided to play a little game of “thinking out loud”. The impulsivity of the statement made the two of your freeze in front of the photo booth.

But there was something that the both of you knew, something that neither of you wanted to admit. You had been friends for too long, had been too close for too long, but what was different now?

Why, after more than ten years of being best friends, was now the best time for you two to be together? 

But something resided within you, and in Chan as well. This was to atone for all the pain you two had experienced without one another. You and Chan always wondered why you’ve always loved, but never been in love truly. All this time, the person that was it from the start was right in front of your faces, but pent up denial never allowed it to happen. 

Until now. 

Somewhere, somehow, this was the universe’s way of telling you that today was that day. You woke up late, wore his sweater, and Chan had slipped up with his thoughts aloud. It made sense. 

So, you took a small step forward. 

It felt as if the gravity between your feet and floor was much heavier than before, especially watching Chan’s jaw clench out of nervousness, but you knew it was just you mustering up a ton of courage to finally ask, 

“Who’s stopping you from asking?” 

[meantforinfinitesadness]

Spring Moments

Hello!!! This is the fic I wrote for @swspringfling! My recipient is @p-s-brooklyn (it’s not letting me tag you for some reason....) and this is a Modern AU Codywan fic with a healthy serving of Rainshowers, Thunder, Lighting, and Illness! There are first meetings, kissing in the rain, and even a proposal in the rain! 

Oh, there’s also an off-screen character death that decided it wanted to make an appearance. It’s in the second to last section of the fic and it’s not Cody or Obi-Wan, don’t worry. 

You can read it on ao3 or you can read it here! It’s kind of long, so be wary of that!

--------

Obi-Wan loved the rain. He loved the way it sounded in a quiet house as it hit the roof. He loved the way the drops looked on windows and the way it made everything smell just that much nicer.

(And, yes. His favorite smell was petrichor, thank you for asking.)

Obi-Wan loved the rain. He loved walking in it…

At least, when he had an umbrella and slightly warmer clothes he loved it. 

He didn’t mind not having an umbrella or warmer clothes to help, though. 

“If you just learned how to drive…”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes at the memory of his brother saying those exact words to him on a day very much like this one. It wasn’t that Obi-Wan had strong feelings about driving...well...actually…

“Hey!” A voice not from a memory jolts Obi-Wan. He turns wide eyes to the owner of the voice. 

A man had stopped his car in the middle of the road, rolled his window down, and was looking a touch concerned. 

Obi-Wan blinked at the stranger, feeling water droplets fall from his lashes and onto his cheeks.

“Uh…” Obi-Wan fumbled for words. “Hello there.”

“Do you need a ride?” The man asks.

“Pardon?”

“Well, it’s pouring rain, you see, and you don’t have an umbrella.”

Obi-Wan blinks again and raises an eyebrow. “You don’t say.”

The man chuckles. “I know you don’t know me, but you look absolutely drenched. I promise I’m not a murderer or anything of the like.”

Obi-Wan hums and the corner of his mouth quirks up. “That sounds like something a murderer would say.”

The man snaps his fingers. “Damn,” he says in a false as though he was disappointed or sad his “deception” didn’t work. “I thought I could fool you.” 

Obi-Wan huffs out a laugh. “Alright,” he says.

The man stares at him. “Alright?”

“If your offer still stands, a ride would be nice.”

The offer does, indeed, still stand. So, Obi-Wan gets into the car and is immediately flooded with warmth. 

“Thanks.” He says through lightly chattering teeth. 

“It’s no problem. I’m Cody, by the way.” Cody informs him.

Obi-Wan turns his attention to Cody and his mouth dries at the sight of him up close. 

His hair is black and slightly curly. His beautiful dark skin is blemished only with a scar wrapping around his left eye. And his eyes are kind and bright. 

He’s gorgeous.

“I’m Obi-Wan,” he says a bit breathlessly.

“Obi-Wan,” Cody says his name almost reverently. “I like that.”

“Thanks.” Obi-Wan replies. 

“So, Obi-Wan,” Cody grins at him. “Where to?”

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

“Obi-Wan grumbles to himself as he stands under an awning. His arms are wrapped around his body as he tries to preserve some warmth. 

The weather matches his mood with its dark clouds and rain shower, His date had not gone well.

The man he ate and talked with was rude and far too loud in the restaurant. Not to mention, he was late, ordered the most expensive item on the menu, then made Obi-Wan pay for it. After those unfortunate events, he left and didn’t offer Obi-Wan a ride for his trouble. 

Obi-Wan was surprised to find, though, that the waitress had been watching everything, spoke to her boss, and refunded him. Obi-Wan may or may not have cried at their kindness.

In the end, he decided to walk home even though it started to get late. Of course, his luck ran out and rain poured down. He’d pulled his phone out to call someone and ask for a ride, only to find his phone had died.

So, here he was.

Under an awning, freezing, and miserable.

Sighing, Obi-Wan closed his eyes and huddled further into himself. 

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes opened and he looked up with a smile.

“Hello there,” Obi-Wan greeted a drenched Cody.

“You got room for one more?” Cody asks, gesturing with his head to the space under the awning.

Obi-Wan inches over and tilts his head. Cody slides into the small space.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Obi-Wan says. 

Cody rubs his hands together and smiles. “Bad date.” He says.

Obi-Wan hums. “What a coincidence.”

“You too, huh?”

“How bad?” Obi-Wan asks, inching towards the shivering man. 

“He didn’t even show up.” Cody mumbles, rolling his eyes. He presses closer to Obi-Wan. “You?”

Obi-Wan groans and relays the events that occurred during his date.

Cody hisses in sympathy. “I’m sorry.” 

Obi-Wan shakes his head. He doesn’t quite realize how close the two of them are until Cody speaks again and Obi-Wan can feel the words vibrate through his body.

“Wanna try again?”

Obi-Wan quirks an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Cody shrugs. “I happen to know a place with great food, a comfy couch, and a warm fire.” He replies with a teasing smile. 

“Let me guess,” Obi-Wan returns the smile. “Would that be your place?”

Cody grins wider. “If that’s alright with you.”

Obi-Wan chuckles and pressed closer to Cody. “It sounds lovely. Lead the way?”

“With pleasure.”

-----------

“The rain seems to like you,” Cody says with a smirk as he pulls Obi-Wan close to him.

There are no places for them to hide from the downpour that seemed to come out of nowhere. They don’t mind.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and scoffs. The rain does well to hide the happy tears on his face. His fingers toy with the newly placed ring on his left hand. 

“You know,” Cody continues, locking eyes with Obi-Wan. “We missed a crucial part of this proposal.”

Obi-Wan raises an eyebrow and Cody can’t help but think how beautiful it makes him look. 

How more beautiful it makes him look. 

The year since Cody gave Obi-Wan a ride home had gone quickly. Here they were, a year since then with Obi-Wan tearfully accepting Cody’s proposal and Cody’s heart just about bursting with love out of his chest.

“How very cliche of you.” Obi-Wan remarks dryly.

Cody shrugs with a smirk. “You know you want to be part of that cliche. A kiss in the rain.”

Obi-Wan tilts his head as though seriously thinking about the idea posed to him.

“Why not.” He finally says. 

Cody snorts and tugs Obi-Wan closer.

“I love you,” Cody whispers.

“I know,” Obi-Wan retorts with a gleam in his eye.

Cody laughs and plants his lips on Obi-Wan’s.

They kiss there in the rain, oblivious to the water and the cold. Only seeing and feeling each other.

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

A miserable-sounding cough rips its way through the living room and into the kitchen. Cody winces at the sound produced by Obi-Wan and scoops one last bit of soup into a bowl before making his way to Obi-Wan. 

“Obi-Wan?” Cody calls as he enters the domain of on ill Obi-Wan.

The redhead is bundled in blankets on the couch and is watching the rain shower.

The drops slide down the window and Cody can’t help but think of the times when he was a child and would watch the drops, choosing one to cheer for as though it were a race to see which drop would slide all the way to the bottom first.

Yeah, maybe he did that as an adult as well, but it brought him joy.

“Hey,” Cody says softly as he sits next to Obi-Wan.

Obi-Wan smiles. “Hi,” he says shortly, coughing harshly into a blanket not long after.

“You sound horrible,” Cody says, earning a glare from Obi-Wan that doesn’t have the same heat it normally would. “I brought you soup.”

Obi-Wan makes a face. He hadn’t been able to keep anything down. His throat was probably raw and aching, and Cody knew he was scared to try and eat.

“Just try a little. If it doesn’t stay down, we’ll try something else.”

Obi-Wan relaxes at the soft, soothing tone and for a moment, all that can be heard is the rain as it hits the windows and roof. 

The ill man nods after a moment and opens his mouth.

Cody carefully feeds him a small spoonful of the light broth. 

Obi-Wan swallows and they both wait. A tremulous smile makes its way onto Obi-Wan’s face and it’s Cody’s turn to relax. He feeds Obi-Wan spoonful after spoonful until he’s unable to eat anymore.

Cody places the bowl somewhere out of reach, then maneuvers Obi-Wan a bit until he’s resting against Cody’s chest. 

The two sit there in silence and watch the rain until both succumb to the call of sleep. 

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

Thunder crashed through the quiet home of Obi-Wan and Cody. Obi-Wan stood off to the side as Cody’s face paled and his smile dropped inch by inch. 

“No,” Cody breathed out and Obi-Wan saw his grip tighten on his phone. “He can’t - I just saw him -” Cody cuts himself off with a choked back sob.

Obi-Wan’s heart aches for his husband. He won’t step in. Not until he knows it would be alright to do so.

“Alright,” Cody whispers. “Thanks. Bye.” Cody hangs up and the hand holding the phone drops from his ear and swings limply at his side. 

“Cody?” Obi-Wan softly calls his husband's name. 

“My brother,” Cody swallows thickly. “Fivel, Fives, he’s dead.” Thunder crashes again and Cody finally allows his tears to fall. 

Obi-Wan’s breath hitches and he’s quick to gather Cody in a hug. 

He’d met Fives a few times. He was kind and welcomed Obi-Wan into the family with a wide smile and some jokes at Cody’s expense.

To hear that he was gone-

Lightning flashed and Obi-Wan pulled Cody closer. He squeezed his eyes shut as he felt Cody shake with sobs. 

“I’m sorry,” Obi-Wan says. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Lightning flashes and thunder crashes in the quiet home. Cody’s cries are the only thing that breaks the occasional silence.

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

“Obi-Wan?” Cody calls across the house. He’d woken up alone and concern and worry were the first things to cross his mind. 

Then, he heard the thunder and saw the lightning flash through the windows. He knew where Obi-Wan was.

His feet led him to the living room, and sure enough, Obi-Wan was on the couch with a blanket wrapped loosely around his shoulders and a bag of marshmallows in his hands. Cody smiled at the sight, recalling what Obi-Wan told him the first time he’d seen this exact display.

“It’s something my parents used to do,” Obi-Wan said as he pulled a marshmallow from the bag before popping it into his mouth. “I was always terrified of the lightning, more so than the thunder. They tried to tell me I was safe. It was difficult for me to believe.” Obi-Wan cuddled deeper into Cody’s side, his eyes never leaving the window as lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating his features.

“So, to try and calm me, to try and wash away my fear, they brought out marshmallows and said it was like a show. A light show. We sat and watched the lightning while eating marshmallows, and though my fear is gone, it’s something I’ll always do.”

“That sounds nice,” Cody said, looking at Obi-Wan as he’s once again illuminated by the flashes of lightning.

“It is.”

Coming out of the memory, Cody took a few more steps to the couch before speaking.

“May I join you, beloved?” He asks softly.

Obi-Wan turns and smiles tiredly at Cody. “Always, dear one.”

So, Cody joins him on the couch with a blanket of his own and Obi-Wan leaning on him just a bit.

Later, the bag of marshmallows would fall to the ground as Cody and Obi-Wan sleep on the couch and in each other’s embrace.

[voiceless-terror]

(if you feel like it) what about “snowed in” or “comfort” with jontim for the tma december bingo? my jontim brainrot never stops and I’d love to see what you come up with (I’m sure it’d be amazing as always) thanks so much !

The JonTim brainrot is real and appreciated! I combined this prompt with one of @balanced-to-a-tea‘s, who asked for Secret Santa with the season one archives gang! Here there be 3.5k words of gifts, pining, and kisses of the Jon/Tim variety :)

“It’s a mess out there,” Tim reported, plopping down in his office chair and looking strangely cheerful, given the situation. “Looks like we’re stuck here for the time being.”

There were audible groans all around, though Jon’s was quieter than the others. If he were being honest, their current situation was his fault- he asked them to hang back at the end of the day and help him with some unreachable boxes (unreachable for him, that is). He was trying to get into the habit of checking the weather in the mornings, though he never managed to actually do it until he was too far from his flat to get an umbrella or a heavier coat. This resulted in a few sticky situations, including several occasions of arriving late, looking like a drowned rat. 

“And here I was going to tuck in for the night, have a glass of wine, blast the heat at unreasonable levels,” Sasha complained, doing a half-hearted twirl in her chair. “Terrible!”

“What if we lose power?” Martin fretted, still outfitted in his coat and scarf. “I heard there’s going to be high winds. High winds!” Jon’s guilt increased. Being stuck with his (likely angry) staff in the Archives was not a great start to his career as Head Archivist. And just when we were getting along again…

“I’m sorry,” he began, his hands fidgeting. “I shouldn’t have started this project so late, I didn’t realize the weather would get quite as nasty as it did…”

“Don’t worry about it, boss!” Tim grinned, leaning back in his chair and propping his feet up on his desk, an act Jon would usually scowl at him for. “Should’ve told you ‘bout the storm. You never check the weather reports.” Jon flushed; Tim knew him too well. “Besides, I can’t say I was expecting it to get this bad; London’s not known for its prodigious snowfall.”

“You don’t seem too put-out by it.” Martin eyed Tim suspiciously as he began to unwind his scarf. “You’re smiling.”

“Well, yeah!” Tim swirled around, eyeing them all with an unfettered glee. Jon wondered what he had in mind; there was never a dull moment when Tim had free time. He’d learned that the hard way. “There’s something so romantic about being snowed-in, don’t you agree, Jon?”

Jon did not agree; being trapped, even in a big building like the Institute, left him feeling anxious and restless. Sasha agreed, if her rolled eyes were anything to go by. Martin seemed to be considering it, though.

“I suppose there’s something poetic about it?” he mused, leaning back against the wall. “The snow falling, blanketing the ground in white…” All eyes turned to him and he blushed under the scrutiny.

“See! Martin’s got the spirit.” Tim clapped his hands and got to his feet. “We’ve got leftovers from lunch in the fridge. Between that and Martin’s stash of tea biscuits, we won’t go hungry. And there’s that weird frozen lasagna in the back of the freezer…”

“We don’t have an oven, Tim,” Jon pointed out. “And I’m fairly certain that’s been in there for more than a year.”

Tim continued, impervious to any criticism. “And if we have to stay the night, Jon’s got that cot he thinks we don’t know about-”

“Hey-!”

“-and we can raid all the break rooms for their gross cushions-”

“I am not sleeping here,” Sasha said, punctuating the statement with a slam of a hand on her desk. “The weather report says it's supposed to pass over soon. We’ll only be here for a few hours, tops.”

“Weather reports are wrong all the time, Sash! Think of the fun we could get up to.” Tim smiled and Jon’s heart stuttered without his permission, most likely due to the idea of what Tim considered ‘fun.’ With the way his eyes lit up, however, Jon couldn’t fight a small smile. “Ooh! We could do Secret Santa, like we used to do in Research. Remember?”

Jon did remember. He still kept some of the gifts he’d received, mostly small trinkets from Tim and Sasha that somehow managed to give him a small thrill of happiness whenever he saw them. Still, he didn’t know how they could do such a thing in the Archives, with nothing around that could constitute a gift.

“How’re we supposed to do that?” Martin asked, sharing Jon’s concern. “Statements and office supplies are the only things we have access to.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Tim replied, nudging Martin with his foot. “We’ll get creative! I’m sure with a little thought and effort, we can all find something suitable.” He’d already begun to scribble their names on a piece of paper. “C’mon, it’ll pass the time. Please?” Jon sighed, unable to argue when Tim used his most pathetic puppy-dog eyes. 

“Fine,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes at Tim’s whoop of enthusiasm. “But don’t expect anything extravagant. I’m not feeling particularly creative.”

“I guess it could be a good distraction,” Sasha acquiesced, with Martin nodding tentatively. “How long do we get to find a gift? Or make one, I suppose.”

“An hour? Two? Then we can all meet back here and exchange!” Tim nodded, and without waiting for any agreement he crumpled the pieces of paper into a cup and stood up. “Martin, you first. No peeking!”

“I won’t,” he mumbled, reaching in with one hand with his head turned pointedly away. He pulled out a slip of paper and immediately turned red upon opening it. “Um, alright. Yeah.” Maybe he got Tim, Jon mused. 

Sasha picked next, her face giving nothing away. Tim held the cup out to Jon, waggling his eyebrows. He ignored this, reaching in to pick one of the remaining two slips of paper. Tim!! It read, with several smiley faces and hearts. He felt his own face heating up and shoved the slip into his pocket, staring at the floor.

“And last but certainly not least, me!” Tim took the last slip with a flourish, grinning at what he read. The four of them stared at each other for an awkward beat until Tim broke the silence with a shrill whistle.

“What are you waiting for? Clock’s a tickin’!”

Fuck.

________

It had been an hour and a half. As far as Jon knew, Tim and Sasha were waiting in the break room, steadily demolishing Martin’s stash of sweets, the man himself having locked himself in Document Storage and thereby eliminating one more place for Jon to scavenge for a gift (not that there was anything in there, but it was the principle of the thing). So now here he sat, moping in his office with nary an idea for what to give Tim.

Tim. He was glad they’d started talking again, albeit not with the same frequency as before. There was of course an adjustment period, that was to be expected- especially when someone younger and arguably less qualified than quite a few candidates suddenly became your boss. But Tim had always been there for him, tolerated his quirks, helped him through a breakdown or two. He stuck by his side when most people in the department couldn’t stand him. Perhaps, with some time, they could go back to being as close as they were. Or closer.

Jon tamped that thought down- it was ridiculous to even think about, now that he was his boss. Professional boundaries aside, what would Tim even see in him? It wasn’t his fault Jon read into every wink, every casual word of praise. A hug or a warm arm around his shoulder that he leaned into instead of turning away. Tim did that with everyone, Jon wasn’t special. He wasn’t Sasha, with her beautiful laugh and her razor-sharp wit. Hell, he’d probably pick Martin over him. Someone nicer, with less sharp edges. Someone who laughed as easily as he did.

Someone who wasn’t Jon.

He shook himself from these thoughts, attempting to concentrate on the task at hand. What did he have that Tim could possibly want? Not his rubber band ball, though he knew that Tim was jealous of its now astronomical proportions (he added to it when he was stressed, which he always was these days). Not the stale packet of crisps in the bottom of his drawer. He thought vaguely of getting a book he thought Tim would like from the library, but that was more of a loan. Maybe an article he found interesting? Tim always used to read the ones Jon forwarded him, and even had a thing or two to say at the end of them. But maybe he found them annoying. Maybe he just did that to shut Jon up. Wouldn’t be the first time.

Jon’s thoughts kept straying to the foyer of the institute, where festive decorations had been set up at the start of the month, most likely Rosie’s doing. There was a beautiful handmade wreath, filled with pinecones and red flowers and other seasonal flora. He remembered back in Research, when Tim would terrorize them all with stupid little pranks and games, his main target being Jon. Jon would always duck away, grumble and complain, and Tim didn’t take it personally. Maybe I’ll indulge him just this once.

Mind made up, he slipped out of his office.

________

Tim watched his three friends with undisguised amusement.

Martin was fidgeting in his seat, constantly crinkling the grocery bag he’d decorated to look more seasonal. Tim knew at once that he’d gotten Jon; he wouldn’t have turned that red for anyone else. Poor sod. Tim had Sasha, a gift he wouldn’t sweat over. She appreciated a good gag. He was fairly certain Sasha got Martin, judging by her neutral, unbothered expression.

Or maybe he just hoped she did. Because that would mean that Jon got Tim.

Not that it would mean anything. He was just interested in what Jon would pick out, that’s all. He could be surprisingly thoughtful, if past gifts were anything to go by. He still had the small box of fidget toys on his desk, where they got regular use.

He clapped his hands decisively, attempting to clear his mind of any more Jon-thoughts. “Well, then. As the emcee for this event, I’ll go first. Sasha, may I present to you the Tim Stoker Coupon Bonanza, valued at over one thousand dollars- but for you? Free!”

He revealed it with all the fanfare of a marriage proposal, bending down on one knee to hand over a binder of hastily drawn nonsense that Sasha would surely appreciate. She took it just as delicately, thumbing through the pages with a delightful smirk.

“One free coffee from the place around the corner?” She put a hand to her chest in faux- surprise. “Tim, you shouldn’t have!” Never mind that he already got her coffee every morning.

“I know, I know. I’m too generous, really.”

“One three hour lunch break. Don’t think Jon would like that.”

“He can come along. Marto too!”

“One date to the Jade Buffet, where we will split the check- Tim, the rest of these are more for you than they are-”

“Moving on!” He interrupted. “Sasha, why don’t you show us what you’ve got?” She ignored his  wink, shutting the book with an over-exaggerated sigh. She reached out for a small bag on her desk, which she handed over to Martin. He thanked her quietly, unwrapping a mug- Sasha’s favorite, with a cartoon of a dog that she’d hand-painted (Sharpie’d, would be more accurate) to look like one of those highland cows Martin was always going on about. The entire effect was monstrous, but Martin seemed touched. Tim was happy too, as this meant Jon must have drawn his name.

“Oh that’s- that’s so nice, thank you Sasha!” His smile was infectious, even Jon wasn’t immune to it (though he tried to hide it). 

“It’ll probably come off if you wash it, so I wouldn’t actually use it,” Sasha advised. “But it could make a nice pencil holder.”

“Oh! That’s handy-”

“Ahem!” Tim once again interrupted; he was eager to see what Martin had whipped up for Jon, considering he’d holed himself up for about two hours. “Martin, I believe it’s your turn?”

“Um, y-yeah.” He put the cup down with some reluctance, picking up the bag he’d decorated with snowflakes and trees and handing it over to Jon, who looked surprised that anyone had gotten him anything. It was an expression Tim was used to; Jon never expected kindness, even in circumstances when he would very clearly receive it. Silly man. 

As soon as Jon began to reach into the bag, Martin stumbled through an explanation. “You don’t need to keep it, n-not if you don’t want, but y-you’re always saying you’re cold and y’know, I have extras, so-”

Martin had given Jon one of his many scarves, this one a worn, dark green that was sure to look lovely with his skin tone. He spent two hours deciding on that? It was a nice gift, for sure. Jon held it in his hands like it was completely foreign to him, though Tim could see him running his fingers over the knit appreciatively, looking at it with wide eyes.

“B-But this is your scarf, Martin,” he said, once he found the words. “I can’t-”

“Well now it’s yours,” Martin replied, his voice steadying with resolve. “Anyway, I um- it’s got your name on it. Or your initials, at least.” He gave a nervous laugh, his face turning even redder if possible.

And sure enough, at the end of the scarf was a small, messy embroidered J.S., along with a crude attempt at a small cat face. The effort was adorable, and it sent a pang through Tim’s chest for several reasons he didn’t want to name.

“T-That’s- well, thank you, Martin.” Jon ran his fingers over the small ‘J’ as if it would disappear if he looked away. “That’s very thoughtful of you.” Jon placed it almost reverently back in the bag, giving Martin a rare, genuine smile, one that Tim wished he had put on his face. Stop that.

“Jon’s turn!” he said, mustering up his last bit of enthusiasm. “I for one have no idea who Jon got, so this is going to be a real surprise-”

“S-Shut up, Tim.” Jon muttered, reaching for something behind him. He hesitated, his hands trembling slightly as he pulled out a small sprig of what looked to be pine needles, because it couldn’t be what Tim thought it was, no sir, that wouldn’t make sense-

He watched as Jonathan Sims moved closer and with shaking hands and a beet-red face, moved up on his tippy-toes to hold a tiny sprig of mistletoe above their heads. And then, in what surely must have been a hallucination or a dream sequence, two lips met his in a tiny peck of a kiss that was over before Tim could truly register it. 

He stared unblinking as Jon sank back on his heels, his eyes still tightly shut from the kiss. Tim brought a hand up to his mouth, the warm tingle of slightly chapped lips on his still fresh in his mind. Jon began to stutter in the absolute silence of the room, stumbling backwards without looking up from his feet.

“I’m, um- I-I have to. S-Sorry! I’m going to... goodbye now.”

And with that Jonathan Sims fled the room, leaving three stupefied assistants in his wake. 

_________

“Knock Knock!”

Tim tried to keep his voice as light as possible. He didn’t think Jon could stand anything more than that right now.

He’d given him a half hour of solitude, enough for him to overcome whatever embarrassment he felt over the encounter. Martin was stewing in a corner, looking shell-shocked and mopey over the turn of events. Tim was just as shocked as he was. Little Jonathan Sims, grumpy researcher and now even grumpier Head Archivist, giving Tim a kiss? Under the mistletoe?

“Go get him,” Sasha smirked, kicking his chair. “Bring him some food. And maybe return the favor.”

So he took a plate of reheated Pad Thai and a bottle of rum he kept under his desk for special occasions, hoping to win Jon over. Let him know the kiss was much appreciated, and that perhaps he’d like another if Jon was so inclined.

The man jumped up from his desk, where he’d had his head pillowed in his arms and his chunkiest cardigan wrapped around him for warmth. It was getting colder, and Tim hadn’t checked outside recently, too distracted by current events. His face was still flushed red, and he wouldn’t meet Tim’s eyes. I’ll have to change that.

“Thought I’d come bearing gifts.” He waved the bottle of rum around for Jon to see as he walked into the room. “Of the food and drink variety. But I wouldn’t mind a repeat of what happened in the break room.” He threw in a wink for good measure- God, why couldn’t he ever be serious? He always fell back on jokes and teasing words.

“I’m-I’m sorry, Tim,” Jon groaned, reaching out for the rum and pouring a liberal amount into a mug that previously housed tea. He still avoided Tim’s eyes. “That was completely inappropriate, I-I just couldn’t think of-”

“Hey, it’s okay,” he placed the food down on Jon’s desk, ignoring the pain in his heart at the apology. So he didn’t mean it. He plopped down on Jon’s couch, trying to feign a lightness he didn’t feel as he drank straight from the bottle. “No harm, no foul. It was nice.” He shrugged. Jon moved from his desk to join him on the couch, looking so adorable and cozy that Tim had to restrain from taking him in his arms. He watched as Jon took two large mouthfuls of the rum, knocking it back like a champ. Jesus. And then he raised his eyes to his, meeting them with a wide-eyed hopefulness that made Tim’s heart stutter in his chest.

“So- so you didn’t mind?”

“Nope.” Tim took another sip of the rum, wondering where this was going. He wouldn’t…

“Then you-,” Jon gulped, seemingly gathering his courage. “You wouldn’t mind if we- that is, if I maybe did it again?”

Tim stared.

“I-I still have the mistletoe.”

Jon sat there, so earnest and vulnerable, his hands fidgeting with the drink in his lap. Tim remembered the first time he laid eyes on him, the taciturn young researcher with a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue. He imagined asking him on a date, getting to know the man under that prickly exterior. Making him laugh, getting that rare smile that Martin got today. But he didn’t seem interested and Tim never wanted to push it, too respectful of his boundaries.

But maybe he hadn’t imagined the way Jon leaned into his touch. How he laughed at Tim’s shitty jokes a bit longer than necessary. That the looks he got in the library weren’t ones of annoyance, but fondness. So he set the bottle down, took the drink out of Jon’s hands and replaced it with the warm grip of his own. His voice came out low, quiet and serious and utterly unlike him.

“I wouldn’t mind at all.” And he leaned in and kissed Jonathan Sims, just like he wanted to do all those years ago.

It was a sweet, lingering thing- the taste of rum on his lips, lips that parted so easily for Tim like he’d been waiting, wanting this for so long, maybe even as long as Tim had. And when they finally parted, Jon stared at him with those deep brown eyes and gave him the smile he’d been wishing for and it was just for him. He put that there.

“Was-was that okay?” he murmured, feeling nervous and open under Jon’s intense gaze. 

“Yes,” was the whispered response. He let out a small, charming laugh that Tim would always remember when he thought back to this night, the first night of many stolen kisses and secret smiles. “I-I liked that.”

“Well, good!” Tim could no longer contain the urge to have Jon in his arms and pulled him to his chest, appreciating the small squeak it earned him. “Because there’s more where that came from.” Jon leaned into his touch, as if trying to leech every bit of warmth from Tim that he could. It felt so utterly right to be here, on this uncomfortable couch with an armful of the man he’d been pining over for the last three years. Score, a giddy part of his mind yelled. They laid there in silence for a few minutes, reveling in the feeling of affection finally realized when Jon’s head perked up from his chest, a concerned look in his eyes.

“Do you think Rosie’s going to notice I nicked her mistletoe?”

Tim snickered. “Oh, absolutely. But I’ll take the fall. She’s not getting that back.”

Jon was always thoughtful with his gifts. And this was one he intended to keep.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28201134

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid 110

110

  It’d been a long time since Keith woke up screaming. He didn’t know he was screaming until the bedroom light flicked on and Shiro came rushing in. Lance was already holding him, tears running down Keith’s face, mingling with the sweat that covered him. Shaking in his boyfriend’s hold, his screams died out, broken sobs falling in their place. Kissing his hair, Lance held him tightly, Shiro letting out a long breath in relief, not that he could hear it over the blood pounding in his ears. God. Fucking nightmares. He hadn’t had one this bad in so long. Lance always seemed to chase them away... well, nearly always... most of the time. Thank fuck it wasn’t real. Thank fuck Lance was okay.

  “Kiddo? Old or new?”

Sitting on the edge of his bed, Shiro hugged him from the other side, waiting the long moment and a half for Keith to finally catch his breath. Fuck. It’d been messed up. Shiro knew sometimes he couldn’t talk about new nightmares

“Old and new”

“Want me to stay?”

“Yeah... fuck... fuck...”

Lance nuzzled into his hair

“You’re okay, we’ve got you, babe...”

“Sorry... fuck...”

“It’s alright. Lance, wanna get him settled while I turn the light out?”

“On it... come here, babe...”

“Where’s Kosmo?”

He’d been on the end of the bed when they’d fallen asleep... Shiro volunteering

“I’ll get him”

   Lance laid on his back with cuddling into his chest, Shiro curled up behind him and Kosmo at their feet. It was a narrow fit, and he still couldn’t calm his heart rate down. Lance was stroking his hair, behind him Shiro’s breath tickled his shoulder. He didn’t want to go back to sleep... and he didn’t want to be up. There was greyness in the room, the sun must be rising soon...

“Babe, you don’t have to talk, but do you want to tell us what it was about?”

Stupid Lance wanting to talk. He felt foolish for how vivid the nightmare was...

“You don’t have to. New can be pretty bad...”

At this rate Shiro and Lance were likely to bicker about whether he should talk or not. He talked to Lance... it’d take a while and something he made no sense at all

“Dad...”

Shiro made an “Ah” noise. Nightmares about his dad had stuck with him since he was kid

“Oh, babe... hey, it was just a horrible horrible dream. You’re okay. You’re okay”

Lance comforted him gently, Keith feeling a sob welling up as he nosed into his boyfriend’s chest

“You were in... in the fire... and I couldn’t get you... and the baby kept crying... but I couldn’t find you... and then...”

“Okay... hey, I’m okay... I’m okay... this little one is still okay...”

“It was so fucking real”

“You were screaming, I guess that makes sense... I’m here. We’re okay”

“It’s so fucking stupid”

  He was angry at himself for making a scene. Today was ultrasound day... he’d planned to take the morning easy... It’d been all he’d thought about the day before

“Babe, it’s not stupid. That’s like saying my nightmares are stupid... you can’t help what happens when your sleeping”

“But I couldn’t find you...”

He could almost hear the cries of the baby as his family burned alive

“You found me now... I’ve got you, Keith. I’ve got you... you’re safe and we’re okay, we’re all okay... just let it out”

  Keith didn’t mean to fall back to sleep, but he woke easily when Lance moved beneath him. Shiro still holding him as he slept, very groggily he mumbled

“Babe?”

“Bathroom...”

“Okay...”

Kosmo jumped off the bed, his nails clattering on the floor as he padded after Lance. Fuck... he wished he couldn’t remember his stupid nightmare. He didn’t know the house. He didn’t know how he’d even wound up in the house... He didn’t know if Lance was the only one burning, other than the baby... he just hadn’t been in time to be there... He wanted to see their friends. Not simply talk to them over the phone, Pidge had called to abuse them for Keith “not sharing Lance”. They hadn’t talked about Lance going home, but he also hadn’t really thought about them hanging out in Platt. Curtis had stayed with Lance the previous day, the pair of them in the kitchen when Keith and Shiro finally got home, Keith trying not to be worried as Lance “wasn’t made of glass”.

   Coming back from the bathroom, Lance sighed softly as he crawled under the covers, his boyfriend way too cold, like a block of ice, Keith shuddering

“Sorry, babe... it’s a cold one. It’s been snowing all night”

Mumbling, he wriggled back against Shiro

“Fuck the snow”

“It’s not that bad. Now stop running away, I’m freezing”

“That’s why I’m running away”

“So rude... fine, be that way”

Rolling away from him, Lance was now too far away, Keith wrapping his arm around him, despite him being a walking ice block.

    *

Shiro left to pick up Miriam alone as Keith didn’t want Lance in a car in such slippery weather. He didn’t want Shiro out their either, or Mami, yet today was the day. Lance was not happy. His vampire bundled up in an obscene bundles of layers, tracking through the snow with anger in every step. Soft and gentle Lance was gone, his boyfriend acting as if the snow had insulted his ancestors.

  Making into the bookstore, Lance huffed as he rubbed his upper arms. Snowflakes on his lashes and his lips blue, striding angrily over to the elevator

“Babe?”

“Fuck the snow”

Keith didn’t think Lance minded the snow that much. Breakfast hadn’t gone as planned, Keith dragging himself around as Lance hid away in his room, only to waddled out for blood, then again to start drinking water before the ultrasound. Shiro hovered, being lame, teasing him about dual wielding two cups of coffee, when Keith needed both of them to calm his nerves and another cup before Shiro took his coffee privileges away. Keith felt like both Lance and Shiro were being careful to make him feel like he didn’t interrupt the night with his screaming.

  Huffing and sighing, Lance brushed his hands away as Keith brushed the snow from his shoulders in the elevator

“Babe?”

Lance took pity on him, sighing again as he shuffled a little so he could lean against Keith, taking his hand and his. Having no mittens, Lance had stolen a set of his work gloves... then pulled socks over his hand

“Vampires don’t do well in the snow. This vampire doesn’t do well in the snow. Fucking stinking snow”

“I thought you didn’t mind the snow”

“I don’t... I just don’t like that it makes cold. It’s nicer when it’s outside the window and not attempting to freeze me solid”

“Vampires don’t usually seem to have much trouble in the snow. Not from what I’ve seen”

“Those lucky wankers... I like to think I’m a tropical vampire... made for the sun and the surf”

Keith snorted at his boyfriend. He pictured Lance falling off repeatedly despite his vampire senses

“Babe. You’re not coordinated enough to surf”

“Excuse you, I can surf. I can swim too... plus I don’t wear my glasses when I’m surfing”

“So you cheat”

Lance huffed, not impressed

“Shut up... fuck... my phones vibrating but I don’t know what layer it’s in”

“You’re the one who put so many layers on”

“And I would be wearing a sleeping bag over them all if I’d found one. I need to get some heat packs... winter has no mercy”

  Coran was there to meet them at the elevator as the door opened, the man chuckling at Lance

“I thought you might be bundled up. How many layers did you get on this time?”

“7... and no where enough”

“Never you mind, we’ll get you warmed up in a jiffy. Left my office heating up just for you. Now, how’s my baby doing?”

“How am I supposed to know, that’s why we’re here”

A cold Lance was a snarky Lance, Coran chuckling again

“Right you are. Come on through and we’ll get you out some of those layers. Shiro is bringing Miriam?”

“Yeah, because someone decided I’m not allowed in a car on a snowy day”

“Let him fuss. It’s a big day for the both of you. I’ll get you comfortable and take your bloods, they can process as we wait”

“Hurray”

  There was no cheer in Lance’s voice. Keith nervous as all hell over the ultrasound, but more worried about the health of the baby thanks to Lance being so cold. He hadn’t thought about how Lance’s low core temperature might affect their child. He’d been mentally practicing how to ask what he wanted to about Lance and fresh blood, his courage all used up between the question and the scan. Towed along to Coran’s office, the room was like a furnace, heat slapping him in the face as Coran opened the door

“Warmth!”

Lance let him go, happy to walk over to the examination bed. This wasn’t warm. This was like the upper level of hell, or however it worked down there. Whatever the coolest part of the depths of hell was like heat wise, this was it. Struggling with his top jacket, Lance whined as he couldn’t get the zipper undone. Keith forced to enter into the furnace.

  As Lance stripped, Keith helped until he found himself all sweaty and settled for holding Lance’s still cold hand. Coran turning down the heat when noticed how damp Keith’s hairline was getting, making Lance pout. As he’d helped his boyfriend out of his layers, he didn’t question Lance wearing two sets of pants, to match his three shirts, jumper, second jumper, and jacket, instead he teased him in an attempt to settle his nerves

“Are you sure you put enough on?”

Lance pouted at him. Those big blue eyes nearly had him caving and he wasn’t sure what over

“It was cold outside... I like to be kept at room temperature, not below”

“Now, now, boys. This isn’t the time for fighting. Lance, go ahead and lay down. You know Keith wasn’t experienced you during winter”

This was an actual “thing” then? Lance being snarky when he cold? No one warned him about that. Lance included

“No. He had to experience me being an arsehole though. He’s been very considerate and I’ve been the anti-Christ... I’ve become spoilt rotten with his love”

Laughing at them, Coran moved to prepare the tubes for blood sample collection

“You have found a good man. Excellent worth ethic. Have you developed any symptoms since your last stay?”

  Lance settled himself down on the table, smiling up at Keith as he placed a hand on his belly, other hand holding Keith’s loosely. Keith had working hard to remember to touch Lance there, he swore his boyfriend let out a happy chirp when he’d rubbed his belly in bed. Mami helped Lance relax. Keith catching his boyfriend taking photos of his stomach. He didn’t want to be one of those social media parents who posted everything for all the world to see... He couldn’t do it. Not when his mind liked to remind him there were plenty of sickos out there, but he did want to “document” the growth of their baby

“Nope. We’ve got a few questions though”

“Go ahead. I’ll answer the very best I can”

  Lance opened and closed his mouth, Keith trying not to blurt out anything stupid as his boyfriend was clearly thinking hard enough it looked as if it hurt

“It’s rare to see you so lost for words, my boy. Maybe we’ll get through my questions first?”

Lance nodded, Coran humming happily

“Excellent. Now. Have you been eating?”

Lance sighed, Keith deciding maybe he should answer for Lance

“He has. Shiro and I have been hounding him, and so has Mami”

“Excellent. And how long has it been staying down?”

That one he couldn’t answer

“Half and hour to maybe an hour at a maximum. 5 meals a day is going to make me fat”

“You burn through everything so fast that a high calorie intake is best. Blood consumption?”

“About the same”

“Hunger?”

Lance frowned. He kind of looked like he needed to use the toilet, like he was constipated... The cold really must have slowed him down

“Mmm... I’m not sure... I still do one bag a day”

  Coran hummed again as brought over a kidney bowl, the cannula, needles, and collection tubes. Now was Keith’s time. The best time to ask

“Would fresh blood be better than a bag a day?”

Lance settled his expression into something neutral that screamed he didn’t think this was the best time

“Ah, the ol’ “bag VS fresh battle””

“Keith wants to feed me and I don’t want to hurt him...”

“A little wouldn’t hurt, though I suspect your daily intake will grow to match the needs of your body as your pregnancy progresses”

“How much is a little?”

“A third of a bag of fresh in the morning. A good feed would keep you topped up all day. Plenty of fresh energy and quintessence”

  Lance winced as Coran slid the cannula in

“I refuse to hurt Keith”

“You may not have a choice if your body begins to reject other blood in favour of the same time as the father”

Lance went pale, Keith’s colour also washing out his face.  That was a thing?

“You didn’t mention that before!”

“We have no real guide for this thing. I can see you’ve both discussed and found yourselves unsure. Small feeds will not harm Keith, though you may suffer from an inflated ego each time until you learn to control your egos exposure. Am I right I assuming you are worried how the blood will interact with Lance’s organs and your child?”

  Keith nodded at Coran, finding himself staring at the blood filling the collection tube. How much of that blood was Lance’s? Did his body convert strangers blood or did it simply move about inside of him? He didn’t realise he was being quite for so long that he’d worried Lance

“Babe? Sorry, Coran. We... honestly are trying to work this out. We want to do what is best for the baby but we’re both working things out still. We don’t want to risk losing it...”

Coran smoothly swapped the tubes out, nodding as he did

“That’s understandable. Preparent jitters. I once treated a werewolf with a particularly nasty fear of blood. When she went into labour, Allura had to hold her head up or she’d faint at the sight of each newborn. Jitters are normal. Now, have you two been sexually intimate since you left?”

  They made a baby, Keith shouldn’t feel so embarrassed over that question

“No. We weren’t sure if it was safe and we’re working back towards that”

“No petting? No touching? My dear boys, I can’t imagine how you’ve kept your hands off each other with how physical you both are towards each other”

Lance shrugged

“It’s fine. We had a talk after I lost my shit and I get I was placing a lot of pressure on Keith without thinking things through... we haven’t had sex... is that even safe?”

“Resting did your body good. Indulge in moderation, provided the ultrasound results are clear. Many people at this stage still don’t know their pregnant. It reminds me of this clan of werewolves I stayed with... Great times, very limber and excellent stamina. Taught this young fae a thing or three...”

Coran was off onto another story, Lance pulling him back on track

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Oh, um, absolutely nothing. I was thinking how the clan leaders daughter had no shame in revelling in pleasure or her body. She refused to take a single mate, then she ran off with a human. She was really something else... Ah, well, she didn’t know she was pregnant to her lover at the time. It wasn’t until she was just about due that she popped over night. Brought him back to the clan and he was turned in time to see her intimate with a female wolf, before birthing the first of their children. The three of them had quite their hands full. I believe it was 8 or 9 children between them... Now, her brother. He was a whole other experience. One night with him and his mates...”

  “Coran!”

Lance used the exact same tone he used on his Mami. Keith didn’t want to think about what Coran and the werewolves had been up to. The Coran before him was nothing like the wild and adventurous Coran that seemed to have existed back in the days of fairytales. Surely more than half of what he said had to be that... a fae wouldn’t last in a wolf pack come spring. He’d be torn apart... Keith felt lip raise in disgust, that wasn’t really disgust but more like “what the hell, I didn’t need to know that”. What Coran did was his business but the idea... nope. He could do without

“Yes, you’re right. I am letting myself be swept away by my youth. You and Keith are much tamer than all of that. A little heavy touching and sex won’t hurt, as long as you’re not throwing each other against walls and beating on each other as you... Keith, are you alright? You’ve gone quite red”

Lance defended him, Keith grateful

“That’s because you’re getting sidetracked with stories. Keith and I... we’d prefer to keep what we do between us... and I like it better that way”

“Of course, you are both private in that regard... never mind this old fae reliving his youth. I do hope Shiro and Miriam arrive shortly, I’m most excited to see your child again”

“And I have to pee... oh, fuck, that’s right. Babe, can you get my phone? I want to record this and I need to see who rang”

Keith leaned down and kissed Lance on the forehead

“Sure thing”

   Lance was squirming by the time Shiro and Miriam arrived half an hour later. Pidge had called, Lance messaging her that he’d call her back once he was free. Miriam as rugged up as Lance had been, though she had an excuse being older and all. Coming to Lance’s side, she took his left hand as she brushed his fringe back lovingly

“I’m here, Mijo... I didn’t miss the excitement did I?”

“No, Mami... but we need to get started, I seriously need to pee”

“This cold weather is horrible for that. Never like this in Cuba. 37 years and you’d think I’d be used to it”

Mami chuckled, Keith finding Shiro standing near the door. He didn’t want to kick his brother out

“Shiro, you’re staying, right?”

Shiro shrugged, playing it cool. Keith knew he was excited and worried as the rest of them

“If you want me to”

Lance looked so much happier now Miriam was here, leaning up, he smiled at Shiro

“Dude, you’re part of the family... but close the door. I think we have enough people in here without letting stragglers in”

   Lance flinched as Coran smeared gel across his belly. His boyfriend gripping his hand nearly to the point of being painful. The pain helping Keith focus and not show all his worry over the results

“Let’s get started... you all ready?”

Lance groaned at Coran

“I’m past ready. If you get peed on, I’d like to blame the insane amount of water you had me chug”

Coran laughed as he swapped the bottle of gel for the ultrasound wand

“In that case let’s take a look”

  It was surreal the first time around, the second time Keith still found he couldn’t quite believe that blackness was supposed to their baby, Mami getting sniffly, not that he didn’t have tears in his own eyes... He felt really stupid for not being able to process that surrounded by what looked like grey fish was their baby. Their’s. They’d made an actual baby and it was still there... Not like when his goldfish died...

  Miriam kissed Lance’s cheek, both of them brimming with pride

“Oh, Mijo... they didn’t have these fancy things when I started birthing you lot... to think you were that tiny inside of me”

Coran sniffled. Who knew a good ultrasound could be such an emotional thing

“Everything looks good... I’m seeing one... and I’d definitely say you’re roughly six weeks meaning you’ll be due in June... provided this advances like a normal human pregnancy... Now, let me take some photos and get some measurements on this little one”

“When will we be able to hear the heartbeat?”

An image was good and all, but it didn’t tell them it was really... that everything was alright... Keith’s shock had hit him for six again

“The internet said 7-8 weeks”

Lance blushed, Keith realising his boyfriend must have googled the hell out of being pregnant

“We’ll have your next scan at 8 weeks, provided things progress smoothly. It’ll be a nice thing to return home to after your weekend away”

  That was right. Lance stubbornly refused to cancel Keith’s birthday weekend

“Will Lance be up for that? It’s a lot of walking”

A hell of a lot of walking especially when Lance didn’t hike to begin with

“He should be fine. The main reason for rest was that bleed, but this little one is stubborn. Are you still having your vitamin shakes?”

Lance nodded. The shakes didn’t seem to stay down that long, less than human food

“Yeah. Twice a day...”

His boyfriend didn’t love the flavour. Maybe he should mix a little blood in there... It was probably the taste that had them coming back up

“Excellent. Those, with the injections, will help. You’ll need to keep your body temperature up. Heat pads and heat bags, and avoid prolonged periods in the cold”

“And going home?”

  They hadn’t had that discussion...

“As smoothly as things are at the moment, I would still prefer you remained in Platt, at least during the night. You may visit, but I have noticed you’re particularly clingy to Keith right now. I think staying with him will help continue to keep your hormonal and emotional levels stabilised. You react strongly to touch and scent”

“Should I be taking off work?”

Lance shook his head quickly

“Babe, I’ll be okay. I know you want to be with me, but you’ll lose track of everything if your focus is on me alone...”

“I don’t want you alone if it isn’t good for you”

Coran chuckled at the pair of them

“Lance doesn’t like to be smothered, even by you. He’s very stubborn like that. I’ll check the schedule with Kolivan, he’s been forced to swallow his pride over the stalling in the search for Sendak. I’m sure if he was made aware...”

“No!”

It wasn’t a yell, but it wasn’t not a yell. More like a very heated and very solid “No way in hell”.  Lance sighing softly at him, a sigh that told him they’d be having a serious talk about this later. Shiro pinched the bridge of his nose. Coran looking almost confusidly alarmed. Mami still watching the black blob on the screen. Keith’s gaze dropping to his feet. He didn’t want special treatment... that so ingrained in him that it made it hard to be honest

“We’re waiting. Until things settle down, we’re waiting...”

“Keith is right. It’s not like we’re not going to tell them, but for now we’re doing what’s right for us. We want to wait and grow a bit more confident over what’s happening”

  This is why he had Lance. Lance translated his stupid words into something other people got. The baby might be there now, but he just... He was a feeling a lot of things he couldn’t verbalise. Excited. Proud. Shaken. Drained. Slightly horny... Proud. Worried. A lot of things. Rubbing the back of Keith’s hand with his thumb, Lance drew his gaze back to him. His boyfriend smiling at him, expression filled with love and wonder. He felt kind of chicken shit for being more scared of a baby than a vampire

“It’s okay, Babe. You don’t need to look so sad. I’m okay, and this little one is still there. Soooo, Mami, what do you think?”

Lance effortless took the attention off him and he was grateful

“I think that old Colleen has nothing with her new great-great-grandson. Not when my baby boy is going to be a father. Oh, I can’t wait to rub this in her face”

“Mami... Seriously, who knew nursing homes could be so competitive. Next you’ll be taking bets”

  Mami laughed as she patted Lance’s hand. Shiro took the bait

“If we’re taking bets, I’m betting on a boy”

Lance laughed then cut himself off, moving his hand to his belly

“Oh, god. Don’t make me laugh... Coran, are you nearly done?”

“A few more clicks... Hmm... a betting pool isn’t a bad idea”

“Put me down for a girl. Call it mother’s intuition”

Shiro nodded, pulling out his phone

“We’ve got a boy from Coran. A girl from Miriam. Sorry, Miriam, I’ll side with Coran on that one... Two for a boy... Keith, what should I put you down for?”

  Keith didn’t know... either would be adorable if they took after Lance...

“Don’t tease him like this. We don’t mind as long as their healthy”

“You two are no fun. Shall we say $50 to winner? Or split the pot?”

“I’ll be happy to take your money... don’t go leaving town before you pay up”

Mami was ruthless, Shiro snorting with laughter. Lance squirming again

“Guys, seriously. Not cool”

Coran apologetic as he clicked the mouse connected to the ultrasound machine

“I’m sorry, Lance... give me... okay, there we go... all done”

Lance let out a long breath of relief, starting to sit up, despite his belly still covered in gel, the moment Coran pulled the wand off

“Thank God for that... sorry, Mami... I just really need to pee”  

Mami didn’t mind, she probably understood. From the movies Keith knew pregnant people seemed to need to pee a lot

“Off you go. Why don’t you take Keith with you?”

“Yes, why don’t you two have a few moments to process today’s scans while I clean up here. Off you boys go”

  It felt like they’d been evicted as they headed to the locker room, Lance striding in ahead of him, leaving Keith to drag his steps so his boyfriend could have some privacy peeing. When he finally made it into the shower/toilet area, Lance had locked himself away in a cubicle, Keith wondering if it was weird as he stood outside the door

“Babe?”

“I’m all good... this lube stuff is seriously sticky”

Keith snorted. Lance didn’t love sticky things but seemed perfectly fine with it during sex

“Want help?”

“Nah... hold on”

Opening the door, Lance was rubbing at his belly with a wad of toilet paper

“See, almost all gone. God... I really needed to pee. Next time I’m waiting before drinking that water... I felt like I was going to burst when Coran pressed on my stomach”

“I’m sorry”

“What are you apologising for? You’re not the one with a bladder that decided it needed to be pea sized today”

  Keith shrugged, stepping back out the way, Lance slipping past him, throwing the toilet paper in the bin before washing his hands

“I don’t know. I don’t like you being uncomfortable”

“Babe, I’m fine. Crisis adverted... How are you? You didn’t say much, but you’ve still got tears in your eyes”

“It was kind of amazing... I guess...”

His boyfriend huffed at him, crossing to close the distance between them before pulling him into a hug

“More than amazing. I’m okay and the baby is too”

“I’m sorry... it’s just... I’m still scared”

“That’s why you asked about the heartbeat. It doesn’t really feel like this ball of cells is going to be an actual person”

“I’m still scared it’s not going to be”

Lance nuzzled into his neck

“I know, but... it’s... we can still be happy, you know. I know we over think things, but Coran isn’t messing around”

“No... sounds like he did enough of that when he was younger”

  Lance laughed, raising his head to shoot a brilliant smile at him

“That he did... but good news, us messing around won’t hurt this little one. Before you say it, I know you want to wait, but honestly I feel so happy right now I want to cry that I’m about to jump up”

Keith was not prepared. Lance jumping up and looping his legs around his waist had him stumbling into the closest sink. Laughing happily, Lance clang to him, Keith not even grumpy about the lack of warning as his boyfriend dived in to kiss him. Several long kisses later, Lance pulled back enough to lap at the blood beading on Keith’s lips

“I love you, Keith Kogane”

“I love you, too, Lance Bratty-Arse McClain”

Lance’s happiness was infectious. Keith grinning up at Lance, his hands supporting his boyfriend by his arse

“Good. Because you and me, we made a baby, and it honestly feels like things are looking up... like a whole baby, babe... we did that... I was so worried trying to think of what to say if today hadn’t gone well... and I know I’m getting ahead of myself...”

“Babe, shut up, I get it. You’re happy”

“Very... and cold. This place is freezing...”

   Keith snorted. The shower area wasn’t that cold. Lance was being a baby

“That’s because you’re like an ice block”

“Am I at least a cute one?”

“Very... but I don’t know if I should be feeding your ego. 6 weeks is still really early”

“Mhmm... but for now, can we just be kind of really in awe...”

“Can I be shocked? I’m still really fucking shocked”

Lance laughed at him. God. He felt like it’d been too long since Lance was jumping into his arms happily

“I am too. I don’t know why I decided to leap up on you, but I feel really good that this little one is okay. Should I get down?”

“Nah, you’re fine... I feel like you haven’t been smiling much lately”

“I feel like I didn’t have as much to smile about... just wait until the embarrassment kicks in...”

“For jumping on me?”

“For letting myself be happy. Are you happy? Are you okay? I’ve been all about me and today hit you hard”

“I’ve been... better... but I feel better knowing the scan was good”

   “That’s good. You always stress so much. You’re going to get wrinkles way too young”

The way Lance pout at him made him want to kiss him all over again. Which was playing with fire... Once the relief had worn off, and he was back to feeling himself, he’d have to reassess how he felt over being intimate

“And you’re a brat. What happened to the 45 year old dressed in seven layers?”

“Coran heated the office. Rose my core temperature... but you’ll snuggle with at home, keep me warm, right?”

“Depends. You were fucking freezing when you came back to bed”

“Mmm, but you were nice and warm... Wanna go home and watch the scan again? The two of us? Pidge wants me to call again, but right now that’s what I want to do...”

That sounded nice

“Sure... provided you behave long enough to get home”

“I always behave. It’s the snow that’s out to get me, not the other way around”

“Right... I’m pretty sure snow is older than your old arse”

  Keith regretted the words as soon as he saw Lance’s face fell. His boyfriend climbing out of his arms to wrap his arms around his waist in a self hug

“Babe... I was joking”

“But that’s the thing... maybe I am too old? And what do we tell them when they notice I don’t age? I’m old... like way older than you... you could be happier with...”

Nope. Grabbing Lance, Keith pulled him back

“I shouldn’t have said it like that. I like you, and you’re not that old”

Lance raised his right hand to rub at his eyes, he wasn’t wearing his glasses today. His boyfriend really wanted to see the scan clearly

“I’m 45... most people have kids your age... and... I know you were joking. I do... but it’s something I’ve been thinking about. Fuck. Here I was lecturing you and now I’m... I’m sorry”

“It bothers you a lot, doesn’t it?”

He’d been careful with the grey hair jokes because he knew Lance still held a lot of sensitivity over them... Making a mental joke, he was going to have to avoid age jokes all together for now

“Yeah... I was trying not to think about it... but like, I don’t get older... and I hate it so much... I know you’re okay with it, but it’s something I’m not okay with... throw it in with my body changing and it’s... yeah... Sorry. Can we go home now?”

The change in Lance just about gave him whiplash

“You know I don’t care about that... You’re still you”

Lance hardly acted his age, unless he needed to. He was so full of love and life... Keith liked the man inside the body... though the body was pretty smoking hot

“I do... I mean. I know. It hit me again out of nowhere... I think... maybe I’m going to have some problems with it until I settle down. I’m like so relieved they’re okay that it’s not even funny”

“Me too. Do you want to get anything on the way home?”

“Nah... I just... I just want to watch the scan alone with you... I love Mami and I love Shiro and Coran, but I want to watch you watch it again...”

“Why? What did I do?”

“You were crying but you were smiling... I really love it when you smile”

  Keith’s heart went funny as he ducked his head. Only Lance could make him feel like this... and feel braver about that letter

“When we get home, there’s something I want... I need you to see with me”

“Is it bad?”

“I don’t know, but I think I’ve left it long enough”

“Alright, Mullet. Let’s go... I feel pretty rude leaving but I need some alone time with you right now”

Mami had come for the scan and sure, Keith liked her, but Lance and their baby came first. Besides, the scan was over... He wasn’t letting Lance go out in this weather on those slippery roads. His heart had enough trouble letting Shiro drive around

“Yeah. Funnily enough I do to”

[uhgoodmoni]

Nothing That Lasts Forever

A BTS fanfiction

Trailer - ch1 - ch2 - ch3 - ch4- ch5 - ch6 - ch7 - ch8 - ch9

Ao3 link - Wattpad link - Soundtrack 

Warnings: Major Character Death, Blood, Demons, Fighting, Verbal and Physical Abuse, Mention of marijuana, Death, Cursing, Fire, Unintentional Self-harm, Gore. Yoongi’s injury

Chapter One: Otsukare 

Yoongi’s POV

I glance down at my phone, a new text from Hoba. ‘5 mins away :p’. I don’t bother responding but instead, give Jungkook a slight shove. His shoulder is digging into mine, dozing off on the couch. Drool comes from his lips to the cushion, luckily not my shirt sleeve. He barely lifts his head as I stand up, heading to the table where our things are packed. I roll my eyes looking over him slumped on the couch. I get it, I’m tired too, but he can rest in the car. 

“Hoseok will be here soon, you better not forget anything,” I lecture, and he nods his head. He isn’t listening and I know it. I shake my head, double-checking my bag for my charger.  I don’t want to forget it, even if I won’t be on my phone that often. Hobi’s charger has been lost and there wasn’t time to get a new one so he’ll want to borrow one of ours on the trip. I glance at my phone, at full charge and it will probably stay that way. 

“No no, I won’t,” he mumbles, groggy still. It is gonna be a long drive, so we had woken early, he’ll likely claim the back seat to crash in. I pout, knowing I won’t be able to rest my eyes. It’s better to drive with an extra pair of eyes on the road. I’m glad that Hoseok volunteered to drive in the first place. Jungkook had agreed to drive on the way home so maybe I can nap in the backseat then.

“Your charger?” I ask, grabbing the bag of food and placing it on the counter. Chips, bread, some soda, mostly sweets but Hobi is bringing the cooler with our sandwich makings. 

“Yeah it’s in there,” he mostly whispers. I shrug, won’t be my problem if he hasn’t packed it. He just won’t have a phone, no biggie since we are meant to be on holiday. Slinging the bag over my shoulder I take up my suitcase, heading to the door.

“Come on, why don’t you help me bring some stuff outside so we can just stick it in the trunk and go.” He gives a short hum as I head out. Whatever, I’ll just make him unpack everything when we get to the cabin. The door slams behind me as I walk down to the elevator. It takes me slowly to the lobby, but I head out the back where I know Hobi would be parking. The air is chill against my cheeks as I push myself out the door. The summer is just at its tail end, making the mornings and evenings quite chilly. Looking around for his car I hug my bag tighter. Hopefully, the weather will warm up for our trip. 

His car pulls in, stopping in the spot ahead of me. As he exits the vehicle, the trunk opens up. Stuffed inside is the cooler and his suitcase.

“Hi hi hiii,” He cheers, a huge grin spread across his face. He jogs over to me, taking the bag of food from my hands. “It’s a good day aye?” He hums, walking me back over to the car. 

“Yeah,” I grin, pulling up the suitcase into the trunk beside his, giving it a push to leave room for Jungkook’s. “Hoping for nicer weather.” I nod up to the cloudy sky, a blinding white, but the sun is still hiding.

“When we get there it’ll get warmer,” He assures, dropping the bag in, and pulling me in for a hug. “Where’s Jungkook?” He says, releasing me and shutting the trunk. 

“He probably fell back asleep upstairs,” I sigh as Hoseok leads the way back inside shrugging. 

With a cheeky smirk, he hops inside the elevator, “Can’t lie I almost fell asleep on the road.” And with my silence, he gives a chuckle.

My elbow finds his side, “Hey drink some coffee next time.” I sigh, “Oh, and don’t text and drive either.” I scold, crossing my arms. He makes a pop with his mouth ignoring what I said. “I’m being serious you could get killed,” I mutter as we walk into the hall back towards the room. 

“You’re right, I won't anymore.” He smiles, opening the door for me. I take a step in, Jungkook looming right over me. I bump into his bag just as he is coming out the door. 

“Ohp sorry Yoongi hyungie.” He laughs, eyes slightly swollen, but awake nevertheless, hair draped over his cheeks.

“You left nothing behind right?”

“Nope,” He shakes his head, “stop worrying so we can have fun,” He huffs. He’s lucky I know he’s teasing. 

“So we are ready to get on the road?” Hobi asks, leading the way back to the elevator. “Good Morning Jungkookie.” they squish right into a hug. “Are you excited?” Jungkook hums an answer, stepping in after him.  

“Where is it exactly that we are going anyway?” He questions, and I’m wondering the same thing.

“Gangwon Province, a little cabin that I rented for us in the woods,” He informs us. “I don't know, I just thought it would be nice for us three to get away for a little.” I nod, it is a good opportunity for us, this weekend we have no upcoming filmings or recordings to do. Namjoon is helping Jimin on his own solo album and Taehyung is going to be with his family. Not sure what Jin hyung’s reason for not attending is. 

“Yes yes, I’m glad that collab got pushed back till next week because I really wanted to join you guys,” Jungkook says, taking the first step out of the elevator as it reaches the lobby. 

I bud in, “I think it will make us think back to when we did In the Soop, don’t ya think?”

“Agreed,” Hobi starts, “I brought some canvas…” 

“Hey hey!” Jin calls out, running over from the stairs. He’s still in his RJ pajamas, hair strewn and eyes half-closed. I grin watching him hobble over to us. 

“Jinnie hyung?” Jungkook smiles, turning back to greet him. He must have come to say goodbye and send us off.  Jin squeezes Jungkook tight, muttering goodbyes. 

“You drive safe now.” He tells Hoseok after releasing him from an embrace. “I hope you all have fun together.” I smile, hugging him tightly as well. “Go fishing for me,” He beams at me, grabbing my ears.

“There aren't any fishing spots.” Hobi frowns.

“Sorry to disappoint,” I say, patting his back. 

“That's the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” He scoffs. “Who goes camping and doesn’t fish?” His lip curls up. “Well I only came down here this early to tell you to catch me a fish but I guess I did it for nothing.” 

“Pshhh,” Jungkook rolls his eyes, “Yeah right, you love us and came down to give us all kisses goodbye.” 

“Okay now seriously,” he points at each of us, “be safe, I’m tired and going back to sleep, text us when you get there.”

“Yes, yes, hyung. Don’t worry, got a full tank this morning,” Hobi smiles, giving Jin’s hand a squeeze before he walks away, sending a wave as he heads to the elevator. 

“Too bad he has a meeting on Saturday,” Hobi pouts, as we head out the back door once more. Jungkook squints his eyes as the cool breeze hits him. All of us rushed to get in the car and turn the heat on. I’m not so sure Hoseok is right about it warming up later. 

“Don’t worry,” he says, buckling his seatbelt, me next to him in the passenger like I had figured would happen. “There is full heating and air conditioning at the cabin, so if it stays cold we can just cuddle up indoors.” He turns, facing Jungkook, backing up, and exits the lot.

“That sounds really nice,” Jungkook mutters, leaning his head now covered in his hoodie against the window. I nod with a smile, turning up Hobi’s heat in the car. 

“No matter what I think this will be a healing weekend for us,” I assure, after all, we have been busy filming concepts and the new music video all week. We hadn’t gotten much time to relax but the three of us would at least be able to get some R&R together. Hobi has been especially stressed, he had a pain in his ankle and was trying to not get injured while we learned the new dance. Of course, he was still overexerting himself, but now I’m glad he’ll be able to rest. 

He got on the highway, it will be about an hour drive which isn’t that bad. Maybe another thirty minutes after, to get to our campsite. If it ends up being a bust I suppose we can just go home. 

Hobi had turned on the radio, humming along to what had come on. He’s been looking forward to this since he rented the cabin months ago. If I can help it this will be the best weekend ever.  

It’s been a quiet drive, Jungkook slept the entire ride, but he probably needs the rest. Hobi plays Otsukare as we get off the main road. Playing it from youtube it sounds awful, but I can’t stop myself from laughing. 

“Don’t, don’t.” I plead, shaking my head.

“It’s sope!” He calls, looking to me for a response. I laugh, tossing my eyes to the window. It’s too early for this. I glance at the clock, 9:15 and we haven't eaten breakfast. “We’re sope!” He continues singing.

“Okayyy, let’s go!” I mumble, crossing my arms as Hoseok breaks out into laughter. He continues singing as I hum along, embarrassed. It has been years since I heard this last. It would be fun to perform again with him. Maybe I’ll ask management.

Hoseok makes another turn, the trees taking over both sides of the road. There aren’t any other cars that turned along with us. It isn't a holiday weekend so we’ll likely be the only ones on vacation at this time. Not to mention the weather, it is the same as when we had left earlier. A white cloudy blanket over the whole sky, blocking out the sun but leaving the daylight to light the road. If you look deep into the trees though, there it would be dark. Hopefully, the cabin will be in a clearing so it will be lit up, then there would also be fewer bugs. I smirk, thinking about how Hobi will likely panic once we arrive, upon the amount of bugs. Hopefully, he brought bug spray. I made sure to have mosquito nets so there is that. 

“Pay attention,” He starts again! Hopping up in his chair, still keeping his eyes on the road. I don’t respond so he continues, “Okay, let's smile. It's human relations. There are mountains too” He raises eyebrows to me, turning a dial for the volume.

“There are valleys too,” I sing quietly, licking my lips and reaching for my water. 

“Well, that's just what life is” He grabs my hand, stopping me from reaching for the bottle. “But the earth rotates” He holds my hand back up to my face, making me roll my eyes.

“Your dream will surely come true.”

“You too,” Getting louder.

“Me too,” And louder, producing smiles. 

“Let's do our best, thank you!” We sing together, Hobi turning off onto a dirt road, making the whole car shutter.

“Ayooo, why are you sooo loud,” Jungkook moans, pressing his hands into his eyes. “It’s so early…” 

“Mhmh, not really anymore.” I turn back, patting his leg. “I’m sure we are almost there anyway. Right Hoba?” I flip back up to the front, where he is turning down the volume. Eyes confused, staring off, and slowing the car down to a crawl.

“Right,” He whispers, looking into his mirrors. 

“What's wrong?” Jungkook sits up, looking outside the windows. It’s getting dark under the trees, just the light coming from in between the road shining down on us. It’s deep emerald green, glowing at the treetops from the light attempting to penetrate. At the base of the tall trees though it is hard to see through, getting darker and darker the further you try to look. There aren't any paths on either side and no turn-offs. Is Hoseok lost? I look over to him, but he just stops the car completely. 

“Uh, I thought the turn was around here.” He pouts, pulling up his phone which has the GPS turned on. He sighs, “yeah see.” Flicking the phone in between Jungkook and I. There it is, the turn right in front of us. But there is no road and no sign that there ever has been. 

“The internet connection must be bad out here.” Jungkook bites his inner cheek, sliding down in his seat. “What’s the road called? Or like the company for renting?” 

Hoseok sets his phone in the cup holder, slowly releasing the brake and letting the car continue slowly forward. “It's just like a number marker and then we drive down further to reach a small clearing and hillside where the cabin will be.”

“What number?” I ask, sitting up in my chair. 

“Mhm, 189.” He mutters, mouth screwing up. We sit in silence for a while as he drives down the road. Looking at the clock it is 9:25. 

“It’s been ten minutes,” I announce, and Hobi only shakes his head. He’s getting annoyed. “Maybe we missed it?”

“We are going five miles an hour,” He huffs, squeezing the steering wheel. “Oh well, we could turn back around.” He shrugs, letting out a sigh, but I can tell he is still bothered. Must be stress weighing him down.

“Oh look!” Jungkook’s finger comes in between us, pointing forward to the right. Both our heads turn to look, but I can’t see a damn thing. 

“What where?”

He scoots closer to the center seat. “There there, low to the ground!” He hops up and down, and there it is. A few inches from the ground a small yellow reflective sign marked ‘189’.

“Oh thank goodness.” Hoseok speeds up, reaching the turn-off in no time. 

“Why is there just some random cabin marked ‘189’,” Jungkook complains, sorting through his things. “Where is 1-188” He huffs, making Hobi smile.

“Yeah it is kind of weird,” He responds, taking the turn. It’s a tight road, trees looming overhead and thus enclosing us in the dark. So much so that the car's headlights turn on automatically, the day becoming the evening. Here the road is even bumpier, grass grown in on the path. We all go silent, eyes training over the forest as if there is something in it. But it’s just trees. 

“Hobi where the hell have you booked us?” Jungkook laughs, peering out his window with a huge grin. These kinds of things excite him, exploring and whatnot. 

“You know, this is not what I was expecting. Even I have goosebumps.” Hoseok shivers. His face looks slightly disappointed. He isn’t a fan of spooky things so hopefully, the cabin is much more welcoming than the road to it. 

“It’s okay, you’ve seen the pictures of the cabin and it looked nice you said.” He nods to me, trying to pick up the pace of the car. Another ten minutes later and we are still driving straight down the road. The end not in sight, nor the exit behind us either. Hobi runs a hand through his hair, his whole face dropping into a frown in that familiar disgusted look. The road is so narrow that he won’t be able to turn around, so none of us say anything and he just keeps going. 

“This is really getting weird,” Hobi says, his voice shaky. “I can just back us out if you want.” 

“No, no, no.” I say, “this has to be the right spot.”

“I’m sure we are almost there,” Koo adds. So he does, a sigh of relief from us all as the road begins to widen and trees begin to clear. There is a little picket sign ahead marking that there is a cabin on the left. 

“Finally,” Hobi smiles, pulling around a wide circular clearing, a path to the right, and a short path leading to a small wooden cabin. He pulls around, parking the car in front of where we would be staying. Jungkook is getting giddy in the backseat, opening the door as soon as Hoseok puts us in park. I smile at Hobi who is already seeming a little more relaxed to be at our destination. 

We join Jungkook outside, the air still a bit nipply. Hopefully, neither of them has forgotten to pack warmer clothing. All of us are in hoodies and sweatpants as of right now. Jungkook left his things hopping around the clearing, which at the center is a fire pit and some chairs. The fire will warm us up if we want and would shoo away the bugs. Past that is the path, looking like it would lead up to another clearing and the hills Hobi had mentioned. All around us on the other sides are just trees. Without the clearing, it would be just as dark as the road in. Later tonight we’ll probably be too nervous to go outside to even light the fire. 

“Smores tomorrow?” Jungkook hums, coming back around to the trunk. 

“Let’s get unpacked first and then decide what we are going to do,” I say, taking out my suitcase and the bag of food. Jungkook scoffs, taking his own suitcase along with the cooler. 

“Yeah it’s too cold today, so tomorrow sounds good,” Hobi answers him. “And worst-case scenario we do it on the stove inside.” 

“There’s a stove?” He asks backward, as we head over to the door. 

Hobi gives a little laugh, “It’s a fully functional home. Despite what you would think driving up.” Making me smirk, “Even the door has a key code instead of physical keys.”

“Oh, so it's pretty new.” I nod, as he types in the code making it obvious for us both to see 456782. “Yeah definitely wouldn’t have guessed that.” I look back to the forest, closing in on us as we file in with our things. 

“Wow!” Jungkook’s voice brings me back inside, the lights flickering on in the small living room. 

“Oh yess.” I nod looking around. It’s well furnished, a couch and a tv, blankets, and pillows dotted all around the room. The kitchen to the left, all stainless steel appliances. There’s a hallway to the right, likely leading to the rooms. While it’s freezing, the thermostat is located next to us on the wall. Hobi immediately turns to it, flipping it up as much as he can shivering and exaggerating the cold.

“What a pad.” Jungkook grins, leading the way into the home. The hallway stops at a blank wall and then turns to the right and goes down, four doors, two on each side and a window at the end of the hall. “One floor?”

“One floor,” Hobi answers, turning into one of the rooms. “Oop,” He comes back out, “That's the bathroom,” he announces, heading to the next door across from him. I peer in, a double bed, looking cozy. Hobi turns back to us outside wagging his finger at us. “This one's mine!” Sticking his tongue out. We shrug, moving down to the next rooms. It isn’t fair really since Hobi had likely seen the images online. 

Jungkook took the next room, it was also a double bed, and I curse myself for letting him have it. There is likely a single person bed in the last room and I just knew it. And I was right. I open the door and there it is wrapped in a pink duvet. At least it looked warm and comfy. My room looks the most updated, and their room’s looking dated.

“Aww shit.” I hear Hoseok cry, making me peek my head out into the hall. He doesn’t continue. 

“Hoseok?” I call and it sounds like he had tossed something in the room. 

“I forgot a mosquito net.” He sighs, peering out his own door to see me. I grin, coming well prepared for this. He isn’t even forgetful but it’s always good to have an extra on hand. 

“I got one.” And so I got it for him. While the cabin warms itself we settle into our rooms, helping each other set up our nets. We pack up the fridge and make sure that everything is working properly. The tv doesn’t have any cable signal but there is a DVD player and some random DVD’s in the cabin. At least there will be plenty to do if we can't go outside. 

“I’m so glad we didn’t pull up on some creepy run-down haunted-looking building.” Hobi giggles, taking a seat on the couch. “I got a little nervous there.” He smiles crossing his legs. 

“A little? Pshh.” Jungkook teases, looking around, and finding his reflection in a beautiful gold framed mirror. I join Hobi, pulling out my phone. 

“Aye, none of that.” he makes a click with his tongue, pushing my phone down to my lap. I shake my head, lifting it back up.

“We told Jin that we would text the chat when we got here.” he nods, as I pull up the chat. “Made it safely!” Immediately it returns a failed message. I frown, seeing that there is absolutely not a pinch of service. 

“What’s the wifi?” I turn to Hobi who pulls out his phone as well. 

“Glamping189 is the name, 456782 is the code.” He reads off of a screenshot. But it isn’t there. In fact, there isn’t anything listed under the available networks at all. 

“Ah well, that’s shit.” I groan, turning to Jungkook who just shakes himself from staring at the mirror. Vain much? “Will you look around for a router?” He nods as I get up to help him search. There isn’t one, we search each and every corner but there isn’t one at all.

[jimlingss]

Jungle Park [14]

Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15

➜ Words: 7.1k

➜ Genres: Fluff, Angst, Light Humour (?), Slice of Life, Workplace Romance!AU

➜ Summary: The equation is simple. Hoseok needs to hire someone. You need a job. Except like any actual equation, it’s not fucking simple at all! Not when you have to add the fact that he was forced to hire someone he doesn’t want in his office, he has little respect for your job in general, and oh yeah...once upon a time you might have—*CENSORED*.

“Y/N, ready to go?”   Everyone turns around in front of the elevator, each smiling kindly and waiting patiently for you. A burst of warmth erupts in your chest as you look at the group. Finally, you felt like you’re a part of this firm. No longer an outsider or an outcast. You’re a part of this family and they welcome you with open arms.   You secure your coat and bag in your arms, smiling as your pace quickens. “Yeah.”   One by one, everyone files into the elevator, making it a tight squeeze. A few people grumble like Lisa who tells Jin to get his fat ass off and wait for the next one, but he ignores her and wedges himself in between Yoongi and Namjoon.   “So where are we going?” Naul asks. The plan was to go out for drinks since it was a Friday night before a long weekend, yet no one had thought any deeper than that or actually decided a location.   “Let’s go to Jinhee’s,” Sunyi suggests.   “No, why would we go there?” Seokjin frowns and snaps his fingers. “We should pick somewhere expensive.”   Taehyung digs into his pocket, grabbing his phone and accidentally elbowing Jungkook in his ribs. “I’ll see if the Crystal Plaza Rooftop Bar is open.”   Jimin automatically sighs and begins to complain, “Are you guys trying to suck all our funds from us?”   “You said you would treat us,” Lisa reminds him. “So we should take advantage of it.”   The elevator stops on a different level and a person wanting to get on is overwhelmed by the crowd, reminding them of a can of sardines. Hoseok apologies and Naul hits the button to close the doors. “It’s the end of the quarter and we did well this year,” Inyoung adds.   “It’s not open late enough today.” Taehyung pockets his phone again. “Should we go to the club?”   Seulgi scoffs and shoots him a look. “In these clothes? Are you crazy?”   “What. None of us look bad.”   “We look like office workers.”   Naul hums. “I don’t think I’ve been to a club in thirty years.”   Everyone gets off the elevator when it makes it to the lobby, thankfully not breaking down or crashing halfway from the sheer weight of everybody. You all bid goodbye to the security guard, making your way outside to hang around the dimly lit parking lot.   “Well…” Lisa kicks a pebble underneath her kitten heel shoes, beginning to feel the cold weather bite at her skin. “Someone has to make a decision.”   “Don’t ask me.” Yoongi shrugs when someone looks at him.   Sunyi adds her own opinion. “I’m fine with anything.”   “There’s a bar that recently opened up on fifth avenue,” Dahyun suggests. “There are pretty good reviews of that place.”   “Oh yeah.” Jungkook nods with a smile. “I heard about that place too.”   Jimin looks around and it seems like a consensus has been made. There are no cries of protest or any complaints. “Alright. Sounds good then.”   But before everyone can disperse, Namjoon brings up an important issue. “Who’s driving?”   “I’m gonna drink until my heart’s content,” Lisa pipes up. “So not me.”   Sunyi shakes her head. “Not me either.”   Yoongi shifts slightly and lifts a brow towards the female. “Can you even hold your drink?”   “Fuck off.”   “You don’t drive, right?” Hoseok asks and nudges you gently, turning his head to meet your eyes, even though it’s more of a rhetorical question. He digs his hands into his dark blue overcoat, casual smile placed on his lips and says, “I can drive you.”   You blink, eyes running from the strands of his dark hair brushing by his forehead to the smooth slope of his nose. “Are you sure?”   “Yeah, it’s fine.” The lawyer turns towards the crowd and increases his volume. “I’ll drive.”   “I can drive too,” Yoongi announces.   “I don’t mind either.” Seulgi steps up with a sheepish smile. “I have some stuff to do tomorrow, so I can’t be under any hangovers.”   “You should take my car.” Jimin hands over his keys. “There’s more space. Just make sure not to crash it.”   She takes it happily with a devious smirk. “I won’t.”   “Then we’ll go with Seulgi!” Lisa hooks an arm over Dahyun’s shoulder, walking over to the paralegal who’s excited to drive her boss’ expensive, new vehicle.   Jin lifts his hand, grinning. “I call Yoongi.”   “I’ll join this car.” Namjoon also chooses Yoongi.   “I’m going to make sure Seulgi doesn’t crash my car,” Jimin mutters while Naul also steps over to join him. All the groups are quickly forming and when your eyes meet Hoseok, it seems like you’ve already chosen who you’re going with. It’s automatic without anything needed to be said.   “Let’s go with Hoso!” Taehyung makes up a weird nickname on the spot and drags Jungkook over who smiles shyly at you.   “Alright. Guess it’s all decided.”   “Wait, what about me?” Sunyi has her eyes widened and her mouth open, standing in the middle while everyone has already split off. She was preoccupied on her phone for a moment, and now she’s left behind completely.   “You’re going with me, sweetheart.” Yoongi grins, motioning her over slowly with one hand.   The lawyer looks off desperately towards Seulgi who shrugs. “I already have three people in the backseat of my car. Can’t have a fourth.”   The girl turns to Hoseok’s group and Taehyung laughs, patting his mentee on the back. “Jungkook’s got big thighs, so I don't think there’s enough space.”   “Come on.” Jin exhales in impatience. “You’re making us stand around for nothing.”   “You’ll get shotgun if you’re good.” Yoongi winks and jangles his keys like she’s a dog who will get attracted to the tinkling sound. Sunyi ends up staring at him for a long moment with dead eyes before she mutters something like ‘fuck my life’, tightens her grip on her bag strap, and then storms towards the car.   Namjoon and Jin cheer, following after her, both intelligent men reduced to three brain cells when they interact with each other. You watch as everyone makes their way to their selected vehicles and you walk over to Hoseok’s. “I wonder if they’ll survive the trip.”   “It shouldn’t be too bad.” He grins. “It’ll be good bonding time.”   //   The bar is quaint and pleasant. There’s a soccer game happening on the televisions, a few people playing pool and others chatting at tables. There’s a constant murmur of conversation with music playing in the back. It’s a cozy kind of feeling that makes it as if this place is welcome to all.   Your coworkers grab the largest round booth in the corner of the room, all fourteen people gathered around the table together. Lisa orders the first round of drinks without even needing to look at the selection, being well experienced enough to know off the top of her head what to get.   Jungkook sits beside you and you tug on your coat that he’s sitting on. The slight pull makes him look down and he lifts his butt right away. “Sorry!”   “No, it’s okay.” You laugh, moving your coat so it’s more comfortable for him.   “Do you need more space?”   “I’m fine.”   “Okay.” He nods, doe eyes staring into yours before he looks away seemingly out of nervousness. “I just don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.”   The boy is too sweet and you feel your heart melt a little. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell you if I am. But you seem like you’re more uncomfortable than I am.”   “Really?” His expressions are animated and you muse that he’s too cute.   “Only a little. But I get it. At your age, I wouldn’t want to drink with people older than me either, especially with my boss. It’s natural to be uncomfortable.”   “No...it’s not that.” Jungkook scratches the back of his neck and you don’t miss the way he peeks at you from the corner of his eye. “I’m actually really happy to be here right now. I really like everyone and I like my work.”   Your smile widens. “You’re really nice, Jungkook.”   “I’m not,” he admits with a tiny laugh. “I think you’re a lot nicer.”   You lean back in the plush seat, a snort of air leaving your nose and your cheeks aching with your wide grin. “You’re good at flattery too.”   “It isn’t flattery, if it’s the truth,” he banters back. “If I seem nervous, it’s because I’m trying hard to impress you.”   For once, he’s direct and you’re caught off guard. The drinks finally arrive with Lisa and Taehyung holler, making a ruckus, but you stay focused on Jungkook, too amused. “Why? There’s no reason to impress me. I can’t really give you a raise, you know that, right?”   The boy cutely giggles, nose scrunching and he draws into himself timidly. “No, that’s not it either. I just….really admire you.”   Tears are brought to your eyes. If you weren’t touched before, now all you want to do is fling yourself onto the student lawyer and give him the biggest hug you can, but you manage to control yourself. “You’re going to make me cry—”   There’s a rough nudge, interrupting you. Hoseok is on your other side and he wears a serious expression, using his chin to motion to what he wants. “Can you pass me the water?”   “Oh.” You slide it over to him while Jin begins distributing the shots. “Here.”   Jimin stands up from his spot. “Alright everyone, stop talking for a second, it’s my turn.” Everyone turns, mimicking him and holding their shots or glasses of water out in front of them. “I’d like to give a toast to myself.” People groan all around and he laughs.   “And more importantly, the people of this office who make the entire firm. Without you guys, I wouldn’t be able to work even if I wanted to. Without you all, we wouldn’t have had such a great year or a quarter. Hoseok and I are eternally grateful for your hard efforts, for your dedication, for being here with us. We wouldn’t want anyone else—”   “Is this a toast for a wedding?” Seulgi complains.   “My arm’s tired,” Lisa groans, her arm beginning to shake as she holds up her glass.   Taehyung frowns. “Hurry up!”   Jimin completely ignores them and continues on with a bright smile, “I want to take a moment to thank our lawyers, Yoongi, Sunyi, Naul, and Taehyung. You are the pillars to this firm. It would not be able to function without you. That being said, I would also like to thank our paralegals, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Seulgi. Without your help, we would be running like headless chickens around the office trying to make copies. You are the glue to the entire firm.”   “Oh my god,” Jin rolls his eyes, wrist beginning to ache with how long he’s been raising his glass for.   “Dahyun and Lisa. You are the face of our company, the greatest receptionists we could ever have.” The former smiles while the latter smirks, satisfied with having their part in Jimin’s speech. “Inyoung, thank you for sticking by us in times of trouble. None of us would be able to make any money or bill hours without you.”   Naul interjects with a genuine question. “How much longer is this going to take?”   “I’m almost done. Hoseok — my one true soulmate, my partner in crime, the foundation to all I know and love…”   His partner smiles, amused with his description. “Can we hurry this up?”   “Last but not least, Y/N.” Jimin grins and he raises his drink even higher. “Thank you for always helping out—”   You interrupt him with bubbling laughter. “One, two, three!” Everyone howls and cheers at the same time, downing their drinks in one go. The alcohol runs smoothly down your throat, but the bitter aftertaste is overwhelming and makes you gag. You have no idea what it is, but it’s strong and there are sharp inhales taken all around, except for Lisa who hollers and calls for another round of drink and Jungkook who puts down his shot glass unfazed.   “Do you drink a lot?”   “Sometimes with my friends,” Jungkook explains to you. “I was in a frat, that’s why.”   “Oh. Makes sense.” You smile. “I was—”   “Hey.” Hoseok interrupts and nudges you again. “Can you pass me a napkin?”   You shoot him a slightly annoyed look, but whether he doesn’t actually notices or just pretends not to, he doesn’t seem fazed in the least bit. “Thanks.”   Quickly, you turn back to Jungkook, giving him your attention. “What were you saying?”   “I was in a frat.”   “Who was in a frat?” Jin asks from across the table, the private conversation opening up to the entire table.   Jungkook smiles sheepishly at the attention. “Me.”   “Oh.” Dahyun’s interest is piqued. “What was it like?”   “It wasn’t that big. There were parties sometimes and drinking and all that. But I joined for the study programs and scholarships.”   “Of course.” Taehyung throws his arm over his mentee’s broad shoulders, proud of him and beaming a smile. “Our Kook is a smart one.”   “He did graduate top of class,” Jimin notes with a smile.   Seulgi has her cheek smushed in hand, elbow propped up on the table as her expression becomes nostalgic and dreamy. “I was actually part of a sorority.”   “Me too,” Sunyi pipes up with rounded eyes.   “You were?” Yoongi lifts a brow in surprise.   “Yeah. It was great.” The lawyer turns to the legal assistant. “What sorority?”   “Chi omega.”   “Oh my god!” She squeals and Yoongi beside her flinches. “Me too!”   “No way! How come we never talked about this?” Both females look at each other and they recite their pledge at the same time. They chant their rhyme, too quickly for anyone to actually discern what they’re saying, but everyone is entertained watching them.   “So, were you guys cheerleaders?” Jin asks, slightly judging the pair of them, but they turn to him with dead eyes and unimpressed looks.   “No.” Seulgi scoffs. “I was President of Model UN.”   “I didn’t join any clubs.” Seulgi shrugged. “I didn’t have any time. I was always studying in the library.”   Yoongi smiles fondly, taking a long sip of his water. “Of course you were.”   “What’s that supposed to mean?”   “You were probably a nerd back then. Still are actually.”   It’s a pretty low blow and a lame remark to be made, but Jimin steps in nonetheless before a fight can break out. “Hey, don’t insult nerds. I happened to be part of the Honour Society. I was also part of the student government, a volunteering group, and Vice of the Astronomy club.”   Hoseok takes a long drink of the Sprite he got and smiles at his partner. “Weren’t you also part of a ballroom dancing club?”   Lisa whips herself over, brows shooting up, impressed. “You dance?”   “It was contemporary dance,” he explains in a whisper, having wanted to keep it a secret. Jimin glares without any malice towards his same-aged friend and then decides to throw him under the bus as well. “Hoseok did street dancing too.”   “What?” Inyoung is surprised and suddenly, everyone’s looking at their uptight boss. “Really?”   “Yeah...it was a side thing.”   “You should dance and show us!” Jungkook suggests and everyone claps or hoots and bellows, agreeing.   “No. Who’s going to pay my medical bills if I pop my bones or break a hip?”   “You will,” Lisa says.   Jung Hoseok laughs and shakes his head, playing with the white straw in his glass. “My dancing days are over. I wasn’t really good to begin with.”   “That’s not true.” You shake your head, staring at his profile. “You used to be so good. Everyone in the dance faculty came to watch you. You even majored in it.”   As the words tumble from your lips without much thought, you fail to realize that everyone’s attention has shifted towards you in both confusion and shock. It’s quiet for a moment, Hoseok meeting your eyes before Seulgi breaks the silence. “I thought you majored in political science before going to law school.”   “I was a double major,” he reveals in a delayed whisper.   “Weren’t you also part of the tennis club?” You sip on your strawberry berryoska, the sweet flavour bursting on your tongue and making it especially dangerous when you forget how fast it’s going down.   “Yeah,” Hoseok hums and tilts his head to the side. “I was.”   You laugh noisily at the memory, continuing to drink between giggles until your mouth leaves the rim of the cup and you turn towards the rest of them, hitch your thumb beside you. “He was really bad. Couldn’t hit the ball if his life depended on it and then he was benched the entire match.”   Naul smiles, having been an observer to all the conversations. “How do you know?”   Oh. Right.   Everybody is still staring at you, bewildered and curious, including Hoseok himself. You scramble to fix the situation, lips having been loose, words having rolled off your tongue with too much ease. “We went to school together...like ten years ago,” you say casually, a million curses ringing inside your mind and damning yourself for making such a mistake.   “I didn’t know that,” Dahyun muses like she’s thinking to herself.   “That explains why you’re so close,” Jin says as an afterthought and you don’t know what he means or what he’s implying. You can’t address it either when Sunyi asks Yoongi if he knew you too since he and Hoseok became acquainted when they both articled at the same firm.   “No.” Yoongi shakes his head and looks at Jimin.   The lawyer's brows are furrowed, puzzled like the rest of them, and Jimin shakes his head too. “I didn’t know Y/N either. Hoseok moved to the law school I went to, so he must’ve met her before that.” Jimin smiles at his partner from across the table. “You should’ve told me that you knew Y/N. We could've hired her right away without having to go through all the other applicants.”   “I didn’t know either.”   Hoseok admits it aloud and he frowns, obviously uncomfortable as he leans back with his hands in his laps. It lasts for a handful of moments. You stare at him, but time goes on and your hope of any reminiscence becomes smothered. “He doesn’t remember anything about me.”   You step in, speaking past the thick lump in your throat and hastily adding, “which is fine by me since we weren’t close anyways, so it’s not that important.”   “Right.” Lisa takes a drink of her pineapple mimosa, swallowing the mouthful and setting the glass down. “You got into that accident.”   “Was it really that serious?” Namjoon inquires with a light tone after sipping on his old fashioned.   “Took a year of recovery,” Hoseok states straightforwardly, not finding it that big of a deal and not bothering to keep it hidden from anyone. “What’s important is that I’m still alive.”   “To Hoseok being alive!” Jimin cheers, bringing the mood up and everyone lifts their glasses, clinking it together obnoxiously. The lawyer being celebrated laughs as everybody drinks.   You finish your glass and in the blink of an eye, it’s replaced by something else that’s equally delicious and easy to swallow as the last one. “You should tell us about Hoseok then,” Dahyun leans over the table, all too playful and egging you on with a whisper. “You must have secrets about him, right?”   “Ooh.” Seulgi’s eyes are sparkling. “Did you ever hit him? Swear him out? Yell at him?”   Jin and Taehyung are laughing. Unfortunately, you might disappoint everyone, but Hoseok.   “I didn’t.”   Yoongi chuckles, playing with his paper straw and spinning the ice cubes in his water around. “It’s not like she would tell us if she did.”   “You’re actually lucky he doesn’t remember.” Lisa points to her boss. There’s no regard for authority or anyone’s positions at the moment. “You could’ve cursed his entire family and he would have no clue!”   “I really didn’t curse him or anything.” You laugh, finding the situation extremely hilarious and maybe it has something to do with the amount of alcohol that you’ve consumed. “There are no secrets to share either. We didn’t know each other that well.”   “There has to be some kind of dirt.” Jin pushes. “Just tell us anything about him.”   “You won’t get in trouble,” Jimin promises, amused too.   “Uh, you can’t say that,” Hoseok butts in.   He interjects. “Yes, I can. Go ahead, Y/N. You have full immunity.”   You giggle, feeling warm and light, giddy and too happy. Your head lolls to one side and you really don’t think you could lie if you wanted to. “Honestly, Hoseok was really outgoing and friendly.”   “Really?” Taehyung has his full arm propped on the table, slumped over to listen to you.   “Yes. I don’t get why that’s such a surprise.” You grin, sliding your empty glass toward Lisa who signals a worker who comes with another drink. “He was the one who talked to me first. We shared a class together and worked on a group project together. And I ditched him for my board game club and made him do all the work and he didn’t even hate me because of that.”   “Did he boss you around?” Seulgi asks. You don’t notice the way Hoseok is staring at your profile, hanging onto your every word, your every pause and breath. He doesn’t just hear you. He’s listening.   “Not really. Hoseok was really nice and kind.”   Warm...kind of like the sun. In fact, he’s still like that. Jung Hoseok hasn’t changed one bit.   Naul leans back, voicing her observations. “That’s a lot of compliments. Is there anything bad to say about him?”   “Well...he invaded people’s private space a lot.”   Jimin giggles infectiously, nodding his head and agreeing with you. “He did that with me too. He used to ki—”   “Ahem.”   Hoseok glares at his partner, still having a name to withhold and not wanting to ruin his image in front of his employees. Namjoon doesn’t dwell and asks a juicer question. “What was his dating life like?”   “I didn’t date.”   “Not true.” You grin, looking at the paralegal with the thick-framed glasses. “He was a playboy.”   “Ooh!” There’s a sea of hooting and hollering, everyone making a ruckus and being excessive in their reactions as if they just won the world cup. People in the bar turn to look before resuming their activities when they realize nothing exciting is actually happening.   “I was not!” He sulks, a slight dimple visible in his cheek and you resist the urge to pinch or poke it.   “Yes, he was,” you tell them eagerly. “He had a lineup of all sorts of people since he was friendly with everyone.”   “I can actually imagine that,” Inyoung points out.   You hum. “He was the type of person that made you think he was interested in only you when he actually only thought of you as a friend or a side-chick. So many people became pissed off, but you can’t really hate him when he treated everyone so nicely.”   “Ugh, I hate that kind of person,” Lisa says it from her heart, probably having first-hand experience in the type of person that you’re describing.   “It didn’t help that he was really confident too and that attracted a lot of people.”   “A cocky bastard from the start.” Yoongi lifts his tall glass of water towards his friend. Hoseok glares at him and he grins a gummy smile before sipping on his cold drink.   “His phone was always blowing up with messages and he knew at least one person from every crowd.”   “You sound like you were really good at networking.” Jin releases a wistful sigh, circling his wrist and letting the ice clink against the glass as the deep burgundy colour liquid sloshes around. “I’m jealous.”   “A playboy rich kid,” Naul sighs, adding to the dramatics.   “Who said I was rich?”   “And he danced,” Lisa muses. “Man, twenty year old Hoseok was thriving. I wonder what happened to him.”   “Hey!” He’s defeated, leaning back and speaking in his whiny voice that you know he uses when he’s pushed into the corner. It’s too cute. “I’m doing perfectly fine now.”   Jin is the one who makes a toast this time, feigned sadness and sorrow. “Let us take a drink for thriving past-Hoseok.” Everybody clinks their glasses again, downing their drinks while laughing at the same time. Hoseok is not impressed, and eventually the conversation diffuses into something else, morphing into a different subject. But the man beside you doesn’t let it go so easily.   Hoseok is quiet before he softly nudges you. “What were you like back then?”   You tip your head slightly, reserving a smile only meant for his eyes. “The same as I am now. So are you.”   It hurts. It’s unbearable. To recall the old days like they were happy days, and not days that you had come to resent. To speak so openly about someone that had caused you so much misery and bliss. You thought you were done doing things for his sake, but once more, you’re lying to yourself for him. You’re enduring it. You’re bringing up things that should’ve been forgotten. It hurts to remember. It hurts to look at him. And so you drink, and you drink, making the pain fade away, making it more bearable to lay your eyes upon his, to be able to look at yourself later on.   You don’t need him. Not anymore. The sheer proof of it is that you’re living, breathing, standing on your two feet without needing to lean on him. The two of you were never two halves of a whole, but two wholes that merely complemented each other. And you accepted that this was the way it was going to be.   You’re satisfied. Back then, you always imagined being by his side and maybe not in this way, but this is enough for both your sakes. For your sanity. For your own emotions. For his desires. For his dreams.   To just sit here next to him, being surrounded by other people, drowning out the conversations...it’s enough.   //   The night goes by with more drinks and shots being tipped back. There are numerous more toasts, tens more stories told, laughter and conversations exchanged. None of you realize that you’re the most boisterous group in the small bar, but it doesn’t matter. You listen to the banter and bickering, retelling of funny anecdotes while drinking like you’ve been dehydrated for years.   Soon, your head becomes numb from thought and you’re put in a dreamlike state, the room swirling and soul separating from your body.   “Let me tell you a long lost secret.” Jimin’s finger juts out, making random circles in the air. He’s slurring all his words, head bobbing up and down, having a hard time keeping it upright. Seulgi sneakily takes away his drink, replacing it with water instead. “There’s a reason why we’re named Jung and Park.”   “Why?!” Jin is noisy, shouting from across the table and Lisa groans in annoyance, cupping her ears and swearing him out.   “Cause….if we ever fail as a law firm...instead of Jung and Park...we’re gonna turn into Jungle Park.”   “What?” Yoongi chuckles softly, enjoying watching everyone become a mess. Sunyi has fallen asleep, head fallen to rest on his shoulder, and he stays completely still, letting the tired lawyer sleep her intoxication off.   “Jungle Park. Gonna make jungle gyms for kids…” Jimin pauses, hands moving slowly to elaborate. “But instead of it being a gym, it’ll be a park since that’s my last name. Jungle Park. Genius idea, right?”   “I like the backup plan!” Taehyung announces, chirpy and energetic, unlike Lisa who’s glaring at the amount of noise he’s making.   “So instead of dealing with clients who are looking for divorce, we’re going to make playground equipment?” Namjoon enunciates it slowly with a smile. Despite drinking lots, he appears to be the most sober and he hasn’t blacked out yet like Sunyi or Jungkook who’s slumped on the table, snoring away.   “Yes!” Jimin laughs and snickers, slouching in the comfortable booth seat. “If we fail...and only if we fail as a law firm, we’re gonna make the best damn monkey bars any industry has ever seen!”   “Is this true?” Namjoon asks Hoseok.   “No comment.” The still-sober lawyer smiles. “He was adamant about calling us Jung and Park and I have no problem with that. It’s a better name than Jiseok Partnerships. That sounds like a name for our son.”   “Our son would be so beautiful!” Jimin sniffles, becoming emotional and Seulgi scrunches her nose, shoving the glass of water in his face.   The bar is slowly emptying itself. Naul has already gone home, being picked up by her husband. Jin was in the bathroom somewhere, maybe throwing up or on the toilet. Dahyun and Inyoung were at the actual bar, chatting with the cute bartender. Around the table, there were only a few conscious folks who were capable of holding a proper conversation and it was getting late into the night.   “I’ve already drawn up plans. Not just monkey bars or climbing bars. They’ll be a tube where kids can go through...and they fall..but like….at an angle..so it’s safe.”   Namjoon frowns. “You mean a slide?”   “No.” Jimin drunkenly deadpans. “A tube. It’s different.”   Hoseok exhales in exhaustion, feeling his eye bags darken and his wrinkles deepen in his skin. Every blink was becoming heavier than before. “I think we should call it quits.”   “I agree.” Seulgi is already moving and Taehyung sighs in disappointment.   “Home already?”   Yoongi tries to shake Sunyi awake, but she doesn’t stir. He checks her breathing to make sure she’s not dead and he won’t get arrested under the suspicion of murder. Seulgi goes looking for Jin and tells both Inyoung and Dahyun that everyone’s heading home now. In the meanwhile, Hoseok looks over at you.   You’re sitting completely still, staring straight ahead. If he didn’t know better, he would think you’re sober or a statue. “Y/N.” Hoseok says your name gently, like he’s calling a baby awake. “Y/N? We’re heading home now.”   “’m not done.” You look at him, finding it too hard to keep balance and leaning your head on the wall. “Still drinking.”   He pries the glass out of your hold, exchanging it for water and you don’t even notice. His tone remains firm. “No, you’re not.”   Against your consciousness’ will, the small part that was dwindling, your bottom lip begins to quiver and tears flood your eyes, fogging up your vision. “You’re an asshole!” You cry out, screaming at the top of your lungs, what you’ve been meaning to tell him from the beginning.   Hoseok’s taken back, trying to calm you down when people have turned their heads to stare. He wonders how drunk you really are and can’t help but laugh while helping you put your jacket on and struggle to pull your arms through the sleeves. “You’re going to regret this later…”   “Already regret a lot of things. What’s one more gonna do, huh?” The conflict ignites in your head. Half of you wants to shove him away and dump the glass of water over him. The other half of you itches to smother him and you end up giving into the urge, hugging his arm to your chest suddenly. The rational side that would scream out in horror ceases to exist.   You cling onto the man and he’s surprised before melting into a soft smile. “Alright, alright. Let’s get you home.”   Yoongi piggybacks Sunyi who’s still dead asleep. He curses, but doesn’t seem to actually mind when he throws her in the backseat and bids goodbye to everyone else. Lisa and Dahyun are still well and sober and decide to haul their own cab instead since they can make it directly to their destination. Inyoung catches a ride from her brother and it leaves Seulgi’s vehicle open with only Jimin who’s annoying her to death. Namjoon and Jin join her considering they’re all going to the same vicinity and Taehyung gets picked up by a roommate, bringing Jungkook along since the kid probably won’t be able to get into bed with his own two feet.   The arrangement somehow works out and leaves only you and Hoseok together. He’s still not used to the way you attach yourself to his side, but when you do part away from him, it’s to bid a tearful goodbye to Jimin. It seems like the two of you are the kinds to become overly emotional and sentimental causing Seulgi and Hoseok to tear you both apart before you begin sobbing on the curb of the road.   The street lamps passing by casts light into the dark car, flickering in and making his skin glow. Hoseok takes a peek at you when he stops at a red light. It’s quiet when he doesn’t turn on the radio. “Are you sleeping?”   “I don’t wanna go home,” you murmur, words garbled with the intoxication of sweet strawberry cocktails and bitter shots of vodka that Lisa had passed to you.   “Well, you have to go home,” he explains patiently, treating you like a child and unintentionally making you become more upset. “Everyone else is going home.”   “Home is lonely. Can’t I go with you?”   “......No...I don’t think that would be appropriate.”   “But I don’t have my house key.”   “What?!” Hoseok is driving, but whips himself to take glimpses of you. His hands tighten on the wheel, completely baffled at his position.   “Lost it!”   “Are you serious?” He can’t tell if you’re lying or not. More importantly, he doesn’t know why he’s bothering to argue with you when you’re obviously too drunk out of your mind.   So with the longest sigh, Hoseok drives towards his home instead. The last thing he wants is to make it all the way to yours and have to bring you back to his home anyways. It’s way past midnight and the pair of you should get some sleep as soon as possible. You’ve already succumbed to slumber by the time he gets to his apartment and he has to shake you back to consciousness. You only give a hum, stumbling over your own feet and Hoseok’s forced to help you, practically carrying your body with your arm looped around his shoulder.   He fishes out his keys, opens the door, flickers the lights on and kicks off his shoes. Hoseok sits you down and removes your heels carefully before bringing you to his bedroom. He peels the crisp covers and fluffs up the pillow, so you can get comfortable. “I’ll sleep on the couch, but wait here, I’ll get you water.”

You obey every word that he speaks. And you sit motionlessly on his plush mattress, staring at the blank white wall of the bedroom. The fatigue begins to catch up to you — the physical weariness, the emotional exhaustion. Your lids are heavy, lashes invading your line of sight and then all at once, something begins to drip on your cheek. It’s cold and you feel uncomfortable, especially with the thick lump in your throat, but you’re more concerned about how your once clear world has becoming blurred.   In the peaceful home, the sound of padding footsteps on the floorboards is a soothing lullaby.   The rhythm becomes louder and louder until the person in question is standing at the doorway. The once empty wall is now painted with his dark shadow, the yellow lamp on the bedside table illuminating his features. He sets the glass of water down, brows furrowing, at a loss as he stares at you.   He calls your name. And you stand.   Like an idiot, your feet stumble again, universe put off balance. But Hoseok catches you, hands wrapped securely around your shoulders. You hug him. Your arms open and you embrace his body in your arms, fulfilling the itch that has been driving you crazy for the past hour. “I-I...I missed you.” Your tears stain the cotton fabric of his shirt, his shoulder made wet with your pathetic sadness.   He doesn’t understand and can barely catch your soft, broken murmur. “I was only gone for a minute.”   “No.” You shake your head, pulling away and whispering to him. “You were gone for a really long time. I thought...I thought you’d never come back.”   It stays silent for thirty beats, breath held, heartbeat thundering to accompany the rain pouring from your eyes. The warm light of the lamp is a spotlight held on him. You gaze at Hoseok, gently, softly, locking your eyes into his brown irises.   “I miss you.”   Your throat hurts, constraining like the invisible shackles on your wrists. Your head aches, pounding hard against your rib cage to bruise and echoing in your ears. It aches from wounds that are not visible to the eye, that are underneath your skin. “I miss you so much.”   Your hands lift to cradle his cheek in your palms, words slurring together as your lips tug, tears shedding down your cheeks to try to let off the burden weighing heavily on your shoulders. “I’m so, so, so happy to see you again. Do you know how proud I am of you? All I ever wanted was for you to be happy.”   Hoseok calls your name. It’s not enough to interrupt.   “I’m sorry I wasn’t enough,” you tell him all the things you meant to say.   But he doesn’t understand. Your words are never enough to reach him. “....What?”   “I wasn’t enough to make you happy. I hope you can meet someone who can make you happier. Who you can spend the rest of your life with. Doesn’t matter if it’s not me. It’s okay...if it’s not me.”   Hoseok pushes you off of him, removing your touch from his skin, and he steps back, gaining more distance between both of your bodies. His brows are furrowed deep and he looks at you like you’re a stranger who’s wandered into his home. “What are you talking about?”   It hurts when he steps all over your wounds like this, when he decides to shoot you again, to slap you where the scars are. It aches and you don’t know how to fix yourself. You don’t know what to do but sob in humiliation, letting yourself weep in your own misery.   “You don’t remember?”   “Remember what?”   “Us.”   The answer is short and simple, but it means more than he can comprehend. It carries an importance of a past that could never be recounted by words and only be experience. You search his expression, choked cries leaving your throat against your will, teardrops continuing to flood down your face.   Silence — it kills you more.   “There is no us.”   Your sobs wreck through your body, harder than before and you stomp your foot, childish, but not knowing that else to do. “You don’t have to tell me that for a second time, asshole.”   “A...second time?”   “Yes, a second time. Do you really not remember?” Your eyes focus on each of his features, as if you’re examining him to see if he lies. But where there’s no trace of any sort of recognition, hatred and rage surges through you. You shove him away, making the man stumble back.   “Jung Hoseok, you can’t just pick and choose things from your memory and delete me!”   He remains quiet. “I—….I’m sorry.”   “You can’t just erase me like that.” The syllables choke out of your heaving lungs, past your crippled heart and breaking chest, through gritted teeth. There’s distance between you both, but it’s still too suffocating. You hate him. You hate him. You hate him. “It’s unfair!”   “I’m sorry.”   “Why am I left with these memories? Why me?!” You’re yelling, screaming and you still hate every inch of him. You don’t know how he has the audacity to stand in front of you like this, how he’s not more embarrassed than you, how he can be so utterly shameless. “Why do I have to be the one to suffer after you threw me away?!”   “I’m sorry.”   It’s all he can say and he’ll repeat it as many times as he needs to, even if he has no idea what you mean...what you mean to him…   “Why can’t I be the one who doesn’t remember?”   “I’m...sorry.”   You cry. For a long time, Hoseok just stands there in the dim light of his bedroom, watching as you crumble in front of him, how you downcast your head, how your tears shimmer and drip to the floorboards. He watches as you wipe your eyes with the back of your hand, as you sniffle and hiccup, as you turn away and climb into his bed. He watches as you pull the covers over yourself, how you’re enveloped in his scent that has clung onto his sheets, how you turn on your side to face him.   Jung Hoseok stands there, brows knitted together, at a complete loss for words. He watches your anger dissipate from your bones and you’re left with too many regrets, too many burdens, and nothing but sadness.   And you ask him a question, a question genuine and so heartbreaking that he doesn’t have the courage to answer. “Do you think I’ll ever meet someone who will love me as much as I love you?”   Hoseok meets your eyes.   He still doesn’t know who you are.   //   When morning arrives, you stumble into his bathroom, throwing up in the toilet then brushing your teeth before sitting at his kitchen counter, waiting as he makes breakfast. You apologize and he tells you it’s fine, knowing that the hangover is enough of a punishment for making irresponsible decisions. Hoseok watches the news as you both enjoy a bowl of cereal on the couch.   He doesn’t ask about the details of last night, not when what you said felt so private, like he wasn’t meant to hear, to know.   And this time, you’re the one who doesn’t remember anything. Hoseok wonders if this is what it feels like to you — to have precious memories and important moments, only for the other person to wake up and forget, to have to bear the burden of those memories on your own.   It haunts him. The memories that you do not have, that only he knows, it stays on his mind no matter where he goes, where he turns to, every time you turn to look at him.   I miss you — Why me?! — You can’t just erase me like that.   You’re wrong. He can’t erase you even if he wanted to.

[houseofbutta]

Birthday Bitch

It was turning out to be a fairly nice day even though the weather that week had been somewhat unpredictable. The house was uncharacteristically quiet. Days like this weren’t uncommon now that Boogie was often out on the road, leaving the chaos in the house at a minimum.

Ju walked into the kitchen with half-closed eyes, making a beeline for the coffee pot as Deenie sipped from her cup, working on the crossword in the newspaper.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine!” she spoke, without looking up from her task.

“It’s too bright in here.” Ju croaked in her, I-just- woke-up-and-can-barely-find-the-strength-to- speak voice.

“That’s because you’re hungover, sweetie. Again.” Deenie rolled her eyes.

Ju simply didn’t have the energy to go off. She was tired and the days of their heated, short-tempered youth were mellowing out as they all became more civil in adulthood.

“Good.” Deenie smirked, looking up for once from the paper. “Keep that same energy when Boogie gets back.”

Ju scoffed with a chuckle.

“You tell her that too!” “Mornin’ ya’ll” Dejah bounded in, sing-song, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.

“The energy needs to come down about 12 million notches, babe” Ju held her head.

Dejah laughed as she opened the fridge looking for the orange juice.

“So Boogie is coming back today, I heard.” Dejah said, sounding skeptical, “It’s been months since she’s even slept here. Last time she came home, she didn’t even realize her Jean Paul Gaultier perfume was missing, since she was only here for a day.”

“You better stop takin’ that girl’s stuff, Dejah!” Deenie warned.

“Boogie don’t miss little shit like that. I only took it because I know she’d say yes if I asked her for it!” Dejah shrugged, before popping some bread into the toaster. “Besides, she’s changed. She seems like, nicer now in a way? I dunno.”

“Fuck outta here, she’s the same Bougie Bitch she always was,” Ju interjected, waving her hand dismissively, “She knows it too. Just because she wrote that weak ass self-help book, she thinks she’s an expert now in, whatever hoodoo, booboo garbage juice meta trend is sweeping the masses. Witchcraft is not a fucking trend, bro. She shouldn’t be playing with that shit.”

“True, Remember that fucking demon situation we had on Halloween, years ago?” Deenie reminisced, “All the windows busted out, it was like a movie!”

“Exactly!” Ju sipped her coffee, slowly finding her energy, “There have been many incidents in this house of paranormal activity, and I swear they all was surrounding her.” “Come on ya’ll know that’s not fair.” Dejah chimed in, turning to face them with her arms folded. “If you had some freaky secret power that could communicate with ghosts or whatever, what  the hell would you do with it?”

“I dunno. Help somebody I guess.” Deenie replied. “Who says I don’t?”

“Nobody, but I’m just saying if it’s a part of you, you probably can’t just turn it off.” Dejah shrugged, pointing a finger at her head and making a mocking “Duh” face at the girls, who scoffed in response.

“Whatever, she’s so full of shit. Even if that bullshit she wrote in that book is real, her personality is still the same, I don’t care what you say, Dejah, people don’t change.”

“Have you read the book, Ju?”

“I started it, but it was trash, so now it’s a coaster on my nightstand.”

Deenie laughed.

“Ya’ll bein’ real shady right now.” “Hold on now, we’re not haters- I’m just saying she comes off high and mighty. That’s all.” “Power will do that to you, maybe.” Dejah said, catching her toast on her plate the moment it popped out, before walking back up to her room while sipping her OJ.

“Or an inflated ego,” Ju sucked her teeth, irritated as her eyes followed Dejah leaving the kitchen,“She gets that shit from Boogie.”

_____________________________________________________________

By the time she’d arrived, it was nearly 4PM. Boogie came nearly crashing through the door, balancing worn Louis Vuitton luggage on her arms, as her little white bichon came running up barking and jumping all over her.

“Down Momo! Ahh! Mama missed you too!” she cooed at the small dog, before announcing, “I’M HOOOOOMMEEE!”

With closed eyes Boogie threw her arms open wide, waiting for a rush of hugs that did not come.

“Hey Booger,” Rai smiled down from the upstairs banister. “What are you doing?”

“Rai! I was...nothing.” Boogie put her arms down looking somewhat embarrassed. “Where is everyone?”

Rai shrugged.

“Around, I guess.”

Boogie pouted. It wasn’t a big deal for her to come home from a long book tour, but it wasn’t unlike them to miss her birthday.

“It’s my birthday today,” she announced dejectedly.

“Happy birthday!” Rai said smiling, and making her way down the steps, when Dejah suddenly burst out of her room, running down the stairs and hugged Boogie.

“Awh!” Boogie laughed, hugging her back. “Thank you both!”

“I have an announcement to make and I wanted to treat everyone to a girl’s day. I have big news!”

“Ooh! OK! I’ll go tell everyone!” Dejah jumped up and down excitedly before running back up the stairs.

“How are things, Rai?” Boogie asked, just as her phone chimed urgently, demanding her attention.

“Quiet, you know. It’s not boring, but since you’re not around as much, Ju goes through these combative moods all by herself and she doesn’t know what to do with that frustration.”

“Psychology suits you, miss.” Boogie smiled, with a fist bump to her little sister.

“Thank you! I’m almost a doctor- when this semester is over, I’m gonna be legit.” Rai beamed, then, slowly, her smile faded, “She misses you. You know that, right?”

“I don’t know anything she doesn’t tell me,” Boogie shrugged.

“Hello, hello!” Desty and Jayti, followed Dejah, Deenie and Xai down the stairs as welcome home hugs made their rounds and they all caught up for a moment before beginning to wonder what the hold-up was with Ju.

Finally Ju emerged from her room, leather-clad black jacket and shoes, dressed to kill.

“You’re finally back.” she chuckled, as she took her time walking down the stairs. “Next time you go, take that little annoying yappy mutt with you.”

Boogie rolled her eyes before hugging her best frienemy with cheek to cheek kisses.

“I missed you too, Miss Salty- Ooh!” Boogie pulled back suddenly, her eyes watering a bit. “You smell like a distillery, Ju, damn! It’s not even after 5!”

“Mind your business.” Ju flicked her wrist dismissively before tossing two pieces of chewing gum in her mouth. “So what are we doing?” “Right! Sooooo! I rented a party buusss!!!” Boogie exclaimed, leading them all outside with open arms. “Tadaaa!” “Wow, just like the old days.” Deenie scoffed, remembering nights past that got so wild, they all wished they could forget.

“No! Not like that, we’re responsible adults now!!” Boogie said as she led them to the vehicle.

The bus driver opened the door to them, and they all entered to see an interior of woodgrain and leather seats. A small mini fridge with wine and champagne and a small assortment of snacks, cheeses, and chocolate.

“Heeyyy! We fancy now!” Rai voiced her approval, before taking a seat next to the snack bar.

“Eee! I’m glad you approve!” Boogie clapped her hands with glee before telling the driver to proceed to the first stop for luxury mani-pedis and massages at the day spa.

As they all settled into the back seats to get comfortable, Rai filled and passed out champagne glasses, proposing a toast.

“To the Buttacreme sisterhood! May we always have  each others’ backs!”

“Cheers!” ____________________________________________________________

“This place is legit!” Boogie  called back to the girls as they waited at the crosswalk,  to cross the street. “Wow, you ladies sure look nice, today.” and older white, gray-haired gentleman commented, looking over their collective outfits.

“Thank you, Mister!” Jayti bubbled, particularly happy with her colorful spring dress of choice.

“Do you mind taking our picture?” Boogie  asked, handing the man her phone, as the light changed. “Sure! Ooh! You all should line up over the lines of the crosswalk, like the Beatles!” he said excitedly,  walking backwards to line up the perfect shot as they crossed the street. “Who are the Beatles?” Dejah whispered, to Jayti, who shrugged, before serving face to the camera.

As they all entered The Pampered Palm: Nail Bar, they were met with the acrid scent of Acetone and Enamel- the combination of a sweet chemical smell that excites the high maintenance part of the human female brain; and there were exclaims of “Yaasss!” and “Okurrr!” that rose from the 8-woman group as the cushy pink upholstery and silver damask wallpaper welcomed them into the lap of luxury.

As half the crew sat to get manis, the others got pedis, and a kind uniformed woman served champagne and mimosas which Ju knocked back in a matter of seconds.

Boogie looked worried. “I’m concerned.” she whispered suddenly to Rai, sitting next to her, sipping slowly from her champagne flute. “She’s fine.” Rai said, before shooting Boogie a sympathetic look, “You know how she is… she’s coping.” Boogie, stole a peek at her friend once again, now on the phone, withdrawn from the present moment and enthralled with pondering what color to paint her fingernails next.

“Have a happy birthday!” Rai insisted, raising her glass,

Boogie sighed, shaking off her dark feelings, before smiling and clinking glasses with Rai.

_______________________________________________________

After a couple of hours of pampering, they all made their way to the new Pomerado Luxe  Beauty store. As per usual, Boogie went overboard, buying the latest this and that from the  Gisza collection.

“Ladies, get whatever you want!” Boogie laughed, placing her hands on her hips as they all winced, when her store receipt printing from the cash register began to resemble a trail of toilet paper.

They were all much more economical in their choices, even though she was paying.

Xai landed on a metallic pink lipstick, Ju found a red to add to her collection, Desty landed on a spring eyeshadow palette, and everyone only chose one thing, except the baby of the Buttacreme bunch who wanted six. “Dejah!”  Deenie picked the excess glosses and highlighter from her basket. “NO!”

“Boogie said we could have whatever we want!” She frowned.

“Yeah! But out of courtesy, you shouldn’t be greedy!” Deenie reprimanded with a wag of her finger.

“But-” “No buts, put it back and pick ONE!” Dejah began to protest when Jayti gently squeezed her arm and shook her head.

Leaving the store, everyone was smiling and happy with their purchases, except Dejah who fell behind, pouting a bit and feeling irritated by Deenie.

“She gets on my nerves sometimes, Jay,” she confided in Jayti, “Like, you’re not my mom!”

Jayti pulled Dejah aside a moment, holding her shoulders.

“You’re right. She’s not, and she does have that way about her. But D, she has been there for you- for all of us. It’s just makeup. Don’t let it make you too mad, k?” Jayti comforted her.

Dejah rolled her eyes with folded arms, before drawing a deep breath and nodding, agreeing to let go of her animosity toward the woman.

“Good,” Jayti smiled mischievously, “becaaaaaauuuse-”

Jayti suddenly opened her bag to reveal it full of stolen shit.

“Byyytch!!!!” Dejah burst out laughing so loud, the others turned around, wondering what was so funny.

Jayti hastily zipped up her purse while Dejah made some weird ass excuse about a meme she saw on the internet before rushing the procession onward to their next destination.

________________________________________________________

La Luz Hotel was situated in the middle of downtown. It was rumored that famous people stayed there all the time, and as they walked into the lobby, they were promptly greeted by the staff.

“Miss Patel! You’re just in time for your surprise party!” The girls snickered and Ju scoffed at the woman looking annoyed.

“Well you just ruined the surprise part!” she hissed.

“I apologize,” the woman looked sincerely confused, “Since she planned it for herself, nearly 6 months in advance, I assumed she already knew about it.”

Her words seemed sarcastic, which further irritated Ju, but the look on the woman’s face was choked up as if she were about to cry. So Ju, backed off, uncomfortably.

“Sorry-Lead the way,” she said, exchanging a  nervous glance with Desty and Xai.

The Suite was on the 34th floor, with high ceilings and party snacks and favors that meticulously decorated the luxury suite.

“Ahh! This is so cool!” Desty  giggled, barely able to contain her excitement.

“So glad you like it!” Boogie laughed, passing out whistles and party poppers to the girls as Xai pulled out her phone to take a pic, “Now Everybody say ‘SURPRISE!’” They played trivia games, danced and talked about the past 10 years of ups and downs they’d all shared- from the happiest moments, to the saddest breakups. They all laughed and cried and caught up from the beginning to the present, resolving past fights and issues that were buried among them all. At that moment, Boogie, busted out the champagne and began pouring glasses for everyone before stating,

“I have an announcement to make,” she said, clearing her voice. “These past 10 years have been such an experience! I’m grateful to each and every one of you for helping me grow into the person I am today! I used to be selfish, spoiled and heartless, but living with you guys helped me evolve into a better person,”

Her voice cracked with emotion and her eyes got hot with tears.

“Thank you so much for being my friends! I’ll always love all of you, so with that, I’d like to announce that I’m  going to be-”

“Married!” Ju shouted, slurring her words, “I fucking knew it!”

“No- I’m actually going to be-” “A lesbian!” She cut her off again.

“Ju, relax,” Deenie, squeezed her arm, prompting Ju to snatch away, stumbling toward Boogie. “Sorry, I’m trying to pretend to be psychic like you do.”

The girls winced at the dig, suddenly backing away, giving the two space, as had happened so many times in the past when a fight was about to break out.

“Ju, what is your problem? You’ve been acting like this all day.”

“You always thought you were better than me- NO! ALL OF US! Just because you had money, and you would flaunt it in our face and pit us against each other and you’re JUST WICKED! Forgive me if I’m not buying the ACT, Boogie! You are the same selfish bitch you always were, with a shiny new coat of paint and a nose job!” “Ooh! Somebody stop her!” Rai interjected as Jayti’s arm shot out to stop her from jumping in. “I didn’t get a nose job!” Boogie lied as her finger self-consciously touched the tip of her nose.

“See? So self-absorbed. That’s the only thing you took from EVERYTHING I just said!? Fuck you, Boogie!”

It was as if in slow motion. The raspberries floating in the bubbly champagne flute hit her in the face first then the drink splashed over her immaculate beat, melting her mascara and eyeliner instantly.

“No. The. FUCK. YOU DID NOT!” Boogie shrieked.

“I think I just did.” Ju said flinging the last remaining drops that were in the glass, at her, to make sure she made her point.

A Table skid across the floor, flipping over. Purple and blonde weave was flying, the thud of them collapsing to the floor sent all the girls into a frenzy trying to break up the fight before the cops were called. The freshly manicured raptor claws were out, and even though there were 5 of them, trying to pull the two apart, they were so heatedly engaged, it was nearly impossible. Finally Boogie  pinned Ju flat on her back, holding down her wrists, which was pure luck combined with the fact that Ju’s drunkenness had made her lose her balance.

“You ARE A FUCKING LIAR!” Ju shrieked, bucking and thrashing under Boogie’s modest weight, when suddenly, Boogie kissed her.

The gang gasped, Rai’s hands flew to the sides of her eyes, shielding her peripherals as her jaw dropped, Jayti looked like she might faint, Dejah’s face contorted with shock and disgust, while Deenie’s hands flew to cover her young eyes instinctively trying to protect her. Desty and Xai however, exchanged a wide-eyed look that  simply prompted them to take another sip of their drinks.

After about 30 seconds of them full on making out on the floor, they finally stopped and looked up at the collectively confused faces of their housemates.

Boogie slowly stood up, lending a hand to Ju, who wobbled to a stand as well…

“So… I guess you’re all wondering, what that was about.” Boogie started.

The awkward, tense silence hung thick in the air, as they were all rendered completely speechless.

“We maybe...hooked up...a few times…” she trailed off.

“WHAT?!?!?” Dejah shouted from behind Deenie’s knitted hands over her face.

“There was this time… with that Australian guy...Tristen… we might have had a threesome.” Ju added in, guiltily.

“WHAT?!?” Dejah exclaimed once again.

“Anyway… after that, things changed a bit between us… We just hooked up, but it didn’t mean anything!” Boogie dismissed.

“Clearly it meant something to ME!!” Ju glared at her, shaking, with tears watering her eyes, when she finally threw her hands up and stormed out of the hotel room, slamming the door behind her.

Boogie reluctantly went after her, and found her standing outside on the hallway balcony of the hotel, smoking a cigarette.

“You smoke now, too?” Boogie jested.

“What do you care?” Ju  dismissed her, flicking ashes to the ground.

“Ju, I’m sorry, if what we did, confused you. I’m not a lesbian. Sure, we tried some shit, but it wasn’t like I made a full commitment to gayness! It wasn’t THAT GAY.”

“I don’t even know what that means!” Ju sneered. “It wasn’t just a ‘few times’ like you’re convincing yourself. I mean, I wasn’t counting, but the fact that I LOST count, means that you’re trying to minimize it to something meaningless.”

“But, you’re not a lesbian either!” “That’s not the fucking point!” Ju rebutted, “You can’t just treat me like one of your little fucktoy boyfriends; use me and leave.”

“Wow, okay, I didn’t use you anymore than you used me!”

“REaALLy?!” Ju snapped, “ because as I recall, I never, not once, came to your room in the dead of night like a stray cat scratching at YOUR door.”

Boogie groaned with exasperation.

“Ju! I wasn’t trying to use you! I just thought we were having fun!”

“It was. Until you broke my heart.”

“I didn’t know!”

“Correction: You didn’t care.” Ju said, grinding the cigarette butt into ash and flicking it over the balcony. “As soon as you started traveling all the time, it was like you couldn’t WAIT to leave and have an excuse not to talk to me. You wouldn’t even answer my calls or texts, and most of the time it only about regular shit, like ‘Bring home some toilet paper.’”

“Ju, I’m sorry!”

“You ghosted me like some fuckboy. You KNOW how my relationships with men have gone… and now you’ve ruined women for me too...”

“Ju, I swear to God, if I had known how you felt-”

“Stop playing coy. You knew how I felt when I left you those dusty, sappy ass voicemails when you were gone. You knew how I felt when I made you come 4 times in one night.You just didn’t want to commit, and I get it. But you can’t just buy back my fucking friendship and, for once, throwing money at the problem ain’t gonna make it disappear, Boogie.”

“Ju…” Boogie reached out touching her shoulder, teary-eyed, when Ju shrugged her off “ I really am sorry…”

“You’re right about one thing: I’m not a lesbian- hell I never even considered myself bi, but what I am willing to admit, is I am damaged. In spite of that, I trusted you, because we were friends, and you made me feel accepted, only to turn around an reject me on the basis that you’re ‘not a lesbian’. I’d never been with a woman before you; how about you, Boogie?

Boogie’s eyes were glued to her champagne stained shoes with guilt.

“Fuck you.” Ju said, with her back facing Boogie as she pulled out another cigarette. “I never want to see you again.”

Boogie, slowly nodded before hesitantly turning around to pull the door open to see cast shadows on the floor scrambling from around the hallway corner, that let her know everyone heard everything.

As she walked back into the suite, everyone was behaving so over the top in trying to act normal, Boogie couldn’t help but call it out.

“I feel so dirty.” she admitted. “Look, guys, I’m leaving… for good. I didn’t want things to end like this,”

“Aww! Boogie” They exclaimed and began coming in to hug her goodbye when she held up a hand, stopping them and backing away toward the door.

“I really don’t deserve it,” she said, teary eyed, “I just wanted one last good memory, for old-time’s-sake, but I’m sorry, ya’ll; I can’t do this… “

“Boogie, wait!” Dejah called out as Boogie opened the door to leave.

“I’ll send for my things. Goodbye.”

As the door shut behind her, the room fell silent with a heaviness that left them all feeling disconnected and hollow. The candy nipples and crumbled BDSM gingerbread men littering the floor along with smashed cupcakes and spilled champagne, prompted them all to begin cleaning up the mess, while humming “happy birthday” in such a somber tone it sounded like a negro spiritual.

___________________________________________________________________

The weeks that followed stretched into a month, and as the weather started to become warmer, the Buttacreme house welcomed a new college sophomore who moved into Boogie’s old room and mostly kept to herself.

The awkwardness surrounding the birthday party, had created a moody tension around Ju, that, at the slightest mention or reference to Boogie seemed to set her off into a funk that would last for days.

Other than that, some normalcy was returning with the intro of the new girl, Kayla, since she was unaware of the drama and simply offered up baked goods to anyone and everyone who was interested.

“She’s cool.” Rai said to Jayti, taking a sip of lemonade as they sat out on lawn chairs in the backyard, soaking up the springtime sun.

“Yeah, she’s so innocent though.” Jayti laughed, “Remember when we were that age?”

“God, I don’t think I was ever so baby-faced in my youth.”

Jayti sighed and opened up her magazine to read up on the latest gossip.

“Oh my god!” Jayti’s jaw dropped.

“What?” Rai looked up suddenly, from her phone.

“House meeting…” Jayti said, flipping the magazine and showing Rai the article.

__________________________________________________________________

It was dark by the time Ju came out of her room. As she bound down the stairs, headed to the kitchen, she saw the entire house, save for Kayla, seated in the living room, surrounding the coffee table, whispering quietly amongst themselves. It looked suspicious to say the least.

“What’s up?” She asked, taking a detour into the living room to see a single magazine in the center of the coffee table.

They all remained silent, not certain how to break the news.

Dejah grabbed the magazine, and flipped to the page, handing it to Ju.

Upon seeing Boogie’s photo, Ju scoffed, pushing the quarterly, back at Dejah, with rejection, when Dejah, pushed it again, for Ju to take a closer look.

“...The 34 year old best-selling author was reported missing on April 6th 2020 soon after she arrived in Japan, when she unexpectedly didn’t show up for a book signing, and subsequent attempts to contact or locate her yielded no results. The police began an ongoing investigation that led them to the local den of Yakuza who are known to use spiritual mediums situationally.

Ichigo Soichirou, the lead detective on Blaire Patel’s case, reported that it “isn’t uncommon for the Yakuza to outsource to a foreigner as they are harder to track.”

April 12th, only 6 days after the initial report, Miss Patel’s body was found in a Freight container at a commercial loading site in Tokyo Harbor. The case is ongoing, suspects are being interrogated and arrests have been made, but the tragedy of Patel’s sudden and violent end has undoubtedly shaken her family and fanbase to the core. Prayers and condolences to the family and close friends of ‘The Ratchet Medium’ author. She will be missed.”

Ju’s breath shuddered, prompting Deenie to stand up and hug her, when she pulled away, hyperventilating for breath.

“She’s….gone.” Ju sobbed.

Desty ran to hug her oldest friend, stroking her hair and whispering comforting words to her, when Ju pulled away, turning her back to them and slowly, ascending the stairs as they called after her, worried.

Once she got to the landing at the top, Desty’s voice called out emotionally.

“JU! We all loved her! Stop pushing us away! We need to heal together!”

Ju’s hand gripped the wooden stair banister, digging her nails into the varnished finish, when she slowly turned her head looking down at the lot of them, standing and looking up at her, with deep concern ingrained into their facial expressions.

“These are the last tears I cry for Boogie.” Ju announced. “Good Riddance.”

With a final wipe of her tears, her footsteps receded and her bedroom door slammed shut; leaving them all  frozen in a moment of time wondering what would happen now?

[kenazraventooth]

Oops... guess who has played n loved smile for me...? Yuup!

So i put my sona as flower kid! But I do have an idea for the being a habitician.. and ill be posting the as being at the habitat

Warning spoilers ahead! Im on mobil so the whole "keep reading" doesnt show up on the app. Which is dumb.

Kenaz (yay blatant self insert) 1st shows up after Trencil's 1st quest after the flowers are but in and can be seen sitting by him just a bit beyond the dusk flower. Kenaz just like the silent compainionship and flowers.

When talked to they are happy that flower kid has put the flowers in the courtyard, it makes it look nicer. Then asks if you can keep an eye out for something.

If no: "O-oh ok... I didn't mean to be a burden."

If yes: The player would be asked if they find an inhaler that it is theirs. They have looked everywhere for it and are getting nervous about not being able to breath if the PSA's get any spookier.

Player will then get asked "Youre probably woundering why I dont get a spare huh?"

If no: "Oh cool! It's a bit embrassing to explain anyhow."

If yes: "I only need it if I have to do a lot of running or if I get very scared... Luckly I dont have to run form much in here.. haha." Suggesting that they are running more form emtional issues rather then actual threats in the outside world

Fun fact about me: I thought the asthma kid having an attack when being very scared was just a joke rather then an actual thing until I meet my coworker who semi accidently scared me into an attack one day! (He ment to scare the hell out of me yes. He did not mean to give me an asthma attack tho.)

The inhaler is found between the two carla's stands in Ronbo's carnival. Its easy to find and pick up.

Kenaz is over joyed when you give back their inhaler, but when asked where you found it and motioning to the carnival Kenaz gets a bit sheepish and mentions that they must of dropped it when they got spooked by the game attendent carla while checking out the foritune teller stand. (And yes that carla always spooks me because I will forget they are there. Be looking for something only to be scared when they flail their arms >((( )

After giving back the inhaler Kenaz will give you a sunflower seed that has a blushing smile on it as a thank you. [Note this will not bring Kenaz to full joy]

Planting the sunflower seed will show a cute happy sunflower.

Bringing back the Sunflower will bring them to full joy as you actually took the time to grow it and give it to them... they will give you another seed incase you find joy in seeing the flower when you go to bed and wake up... just dont tell Dr. Habit that they are doing something to help cheer fokes up aswell. This is to suggest that, like flower kid, Kenaz likes to bring joy to the people around them but after Dr. Habit's passive agressive to out right mean comments they are to scared to do so.

If you thought it was the end... hehe your worng ;)

If (or should I say when) you punch Kenaz for Tim tams quest they will give you a stunded look and if they were full joy before the blue sparks will vanish. They will give "...." as the dailogue for the rest of that day. They next they will vanish.

Kenaz will appere in the lougue the next table over form tiff back in the simlar position when 1st meet and with a drink. Talking to them "Wh..what do you want?! Havnt you hurt me enough?! I thought you were my friend!"

If no: Kenaz's unicorn horn will light up with magic while Kenaz looks hateful "Magic can do a lot of things... but I dont think you want to find out what it will do to you." If you talk to them again you will be teleported in the acid pool in the boiler room. If you go back to try to talk to them again you will get "No! I dont want to talk to you again!" And you will be sent to the boiler room again. You wont beable to talk to kenaz again til the next day.

If yes: Kenaz will go silent for a moment and ask if your here to apologize.

If no: Kenaz will simply ask you to leave then.

If yes: Kenaz will ask why you punched them. When showed Tim Tam's photo Kenaz will say "Oh. I see. You really out to cheer everyone up huh... I never did understand why hurting others in any way makes people happy." There will be a silence and the blue sparks will come back "Thank you... I'll be down here for a bit, but I promise it wont be for to long.... I rather not be like the ["two" if Parsley is down there. "Her" if its just jerafina]

Kenaz will be back in the loungue again the next day. Happy as before.

Kenaz will actually appere after your conforntation with Dr. Habit.

Bad ending: Kenaz will be by the gates looking towards martha. They stop you for a moment giving you that sollum face just like Dr Habit had "He didnt deserve that." Its all that kenaz will say.

Good ending: Kenaz will be with Kamal. "He cant be to far gone! I cant... I wont believe it! Please... help me just make one more creature happy..." this is clearly driected at kamal. (I just thought it would of been nice for him to be hesitating weather or not he could... try again with dr. habit. Leaving it vague for a friendship or a relationship and having flower kid giving that things can be worked out and bounds can be mended but you wont know unless you tried)

Fun facts!

When using the microphone on Trencil so Trevor can hear the vampire admission Kenaz's sprite will switch to a silent laughing pose for a bit. If spoken to "Poor Trencil... Dont worry ill make sure he wont get swamped by tge soon adoring fans."

Kenaz's sprite will switch to a spook pose when ever Marv apperes form his pond... keep making Marv appere will make Kenaz move over by Dallas for a day. When spoken to kenaz mentions they cant take being spooked for a bit and thought they dont care for the "photo girl"s babbling they dont mind painting stuff with dallas for the day.

Kenaz's collage image is a bush (and yes i mean bush) of static with sunflowers on it.

Photos!

Dallas: "Nice guy! He's fun to doodle with form time to time"

Jerafina: "I would like her more if she drank less."

Kamal: "I think hes as sweet ask his cramal teeth!<3"

Lulia: "I cant stand her. So self centered."

Millie, Tim Tam, Putunia: "Brat *hiss*"

????????: "I.... Uh... I....oh! You shouldnt just uh... going around showing people this... the photo girl wouldnt like it.."

Nat: "I wish she would come down and hang out with her father and I more... She seems nice"

Randy: "I hope he was able to get a new jar of pickles. I beat his last one open on him but Dr.Habit made him shower and change cloths.... What? I wasnt sure how else to open it and cover him with pickle juice!" (And yes I didn't know there was another way while playing the game until I looked on the wiki... sorry Randy :( )

Tiff: "...................I miss her lovly voice and she has such a lovly face... I could... I... Wh-Wha-What?! St-Stop loo-looking at me li-lik-like that!"

Trencil: "The most chill floating cape you will ever see :)"

Trevor: "For a kid that says hes a werewolf he doesnt smell much of a dog *chuckles*"

Paintings:

Super hero: "Hm... I always wounder if they are really the good guys..."

Werewolf: HISSSSSSSS

Floral: "Thats lovly... but not my kind of flowers. Fits you wounderfully tho!"

Habits 1st dairy page: Kenaz will look stunned and then sad (wont loose blue sparks) "I thought I had gotten rid of this... I wasnt sure if Dr. Habit would really want people to know this when I found it. Listen flower kid. I dont think hes as scary when hes in his right mind... But its clear that hes not there right now. If you have to fight him... please only use as much as nessary. Kindness goes far more then violence ever will... by the way... have you seen the art gallery? Makes you wounder why some people are ever allowed to have parents huh." Kenaz will continue to look sad if you talk to them again they will go on "Nothing messes with kids more then psyical or metal abuse... huh flower kid?" This isnt a nood or shake question just something to ponder on.

Ah... I didnt mean for this to be so long but i simply love this game and love dr. habit. I wasnt sure what to make of him until i actually meet him in game. I think him with a little smile and his hair tied up is just so adorable and my heart goes out to him, and any other adult thats had neglectful and abusive parents. Making friends is hard espically when no one ever shows you how to make ones who are truly... dear true friends.

[the-kings-tail-fin]

A small fic of Cruz and Cal getting to know each other or something?

The first thing that came to mind was this little snippet by @whipplefilter that I love. 

I coulda swore I’ve done something like this before BUT I GUESS NOT! Time to fix that.

Cal looked at the readouts from the pit box. Something felt off, but he couldn’t quite place it.

“She did good today, boss,” one of the crew commented in passing. “And good call on those adjustments.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled. “Good work today, boys.”

Cruz dipped off the track and onto pit row, ending her practice session. She approached the team’s pit box slowly, not bothering to simulate pit row speed one last time.

Cal looked from the data readouts to the incoming racecar and back again. His brow furrowed. Something wasn’t right.

The crew surrounded Cruz as she came to a stop in front of them. 

“Yeah, put it here, Cruz!”

“Good run, kid.”

“Gonna smoke those boys this weekend!”

Cruz smiled and thanked them for their compliments. She looked to Cal. His expression seemed hesitant and empty. She looked away.

Cal opened his mouth to commend her as well, but stopped himself. Her numbers were way off and he wasn’t going to lie to her. This wasn’t what McQueen had shown him that she was capable of. This wasn’t anywhere near how she ran at Florida earlier that same year. However, the data did reflect the struggles the team had experienced since McQueen had handed the reins over to Cal. Cruz wasn’t doing so well. Was it his fault?

“That’s a wrap today, guys,” he announced instead. “Let’s give it another shot tomorrow morning before everyone else starts arriving for practice, alright? But take the night off.”

A chorus of collective cheers went up from the crew as they began to depart. Cruz quietly started to follow them.

“Uh, Cruz, stay here a minute?” Cal asked. “I wanna talk to you.”

Cruz cringed. 

The races at the Motor Speedway of the South were a big deal for Team Dinoco. Over the last thirty years, nearly a third of the races at the track had been won by a Weathers. A third. Over thirty years!

But this wasn’t her best track, not by a long shot. And things without McQueen as her crew chief were… different.

“I did horrible, didn’t I?” she blurted. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what it is, I tried - “

“Cruz, it’s okay,” Cal said in a gentle tone, coming around the barrier to face her directly. “You did fine. Not as good as you have been doing, but hey, that’s why we’re practicing, right?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I want to do better but - “

“But what?” Cal asked patiently. He didn’t want her to panic. “Come on Cruz, let’s take a little drive. Tell me what’s on your mind.”

They had free reign of the entire speedway except for a few milling workers, getting things ready for race weekend. Cal led Cruz underneath the stands and up into the suites and business center. Cruz followed, unsure where her crew chief was taking her. She’d seen the inside of a million racetrack operations, what made this one any different?

Cal noticed Cruz fall into line behind him. He pulled to the left and slowed down to put her beside him.

“Tell me what’s on your mind,” Cal repeated. “I want you to be able to trust me, Cruz. Do you?”

“What?” Cruz asked, a little surprised. This wasn’t the lecture she’d expected. “I mean, yeah, of course I do. I just feel… I don’t know.”

“You can tell me anything, kid,” Cal assured her. “We’re a team now. We gotta be there for each other.”

Cruz sighed. She’d been feeling the tension for a while now. She couldn’t quite place the reason behind it, but that made it all the more real.

“I’ve always been better on the super speedways - like Florida and Los Angeles,” Cruz said. “On the simulator, in real life. This place, it handles differently. And I’m not good at it. I know I’m not doing well. I haven’t been doing well all season.”

“We’re only halfway through your rookie season,” Cal pointed out. “You’re doing really well when you consider that. You even won your first race! No one’s ever done that before. But I can see the difference between now and the beginning of the season when McQueen was crew chiefing you to get you started.”

Cal let that hang in the air for a moment. Cruz didn’t respond.

“Cruz, I want to help you. I know we don’t have the history that you and Lightnin’ have, but I want to be your friend. I want you to be successful. You’ve proven that you can win races. That only leaves me - I don’t have any experience up on the stand, and - “

“It’s not you,” Cruz interrupted, glancing over at him with a worried look on her face. “Sorry to cut you off, but I promise, you’re doing great. No miscommunications. You’re really good at keeping me updated. And you’re good at making tough calls. So… thank you, for that.”

Cal slowed in surprise. That was the first time she’d said anything like that in the month they’d been working together.

“It’s me,” she continued, “I know how much this team, this track means to you and your family, and I don’t know that I can carry that. I’m just not good enough.”

Cal glanced over. Cruz looked so guilty. Her eye contact was fleeting, nearly frantic.

“I know I can be a good racer,” Cruz kept rambling. “I know I can be good, but right now, a- and here? This weekend might not go super well. And I don’t want to let you and the team down.”

Cal smiled. Oh, had he only known this sooner. He reached out and gave her a friendly bump on the fender.

“Follow me. Let me show you something.”

Cruz bit her lip. Where was he taking her?

“Do you remember the first MSS race of 2007, Cruz?” he asked as they made a sharp left turn down a hallway toward the speedway museum.

“Uh, that was before my time,” she answered, slightly embarrassed. 

“Oh,” Cal caught himself. “Right, right. Sorry. Uh, well, that was my first race here with the team. You know what happened? Who won?”

“Probably you, I mean - “

“Lightning, as always. He dominated this place.”

“What?”

Cal had her attention now. She perked up and listened intently.

“Yep, ol’ McQueen. It was like his third win here in a row or something at that point. You know where I placed?”

“Uh, maybe - “

“Last. Dead. Last.”

Cruz cast a questioning look in his direction. “Nuh-uh.”

“Yeah-huh,” he assured her lightheartedly. “Crashed out on lap two.”

“What?” she asked in disbelief.

“Took a corner at a bad angle, got into someone else and got a little squirrely,” he explained. “It all went downhill from there.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

Cal came to a stop in front of a plaque on a wall. Cruz looked up at it.

“You know what this is?” Cal asked her.

“Yeah, they add a little plate with the date and name of the winner of each race to it,” she answered.

“Yeah,” Cal confirmed. “Sucker goes back nearly fifty years. You know how many times I won in my career?”

“Probably a lot,” Cruz murmured, looking at the most recent years and scanning for his name. She frowned.

“Three times,” Cal recalled matter-of-factly. “Ten years of racing, and only three wins at this place.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Cruz protested. “There’s that statistic that says - “

“Pfft,” Cal shook himself. “That whole thirty percent of races in thirty years thing? That came from someone that was willing to manipulate the numbers to get something they could use. It’s a load of bull. I didn’t contribute to that in any meaningful way. Look. See that?”

Cruz looked to where Cal had gestured. “Nineteen eighties to nineteen nineties- holy moly. That is a lot of wins!”

“Yeah, see? That wasn’t me. That was all him. I think the stats person just wanted to be nice and include me. Stat would actually be a lot nicer if they left me out,” Cal concluded.

“Huh,” Cruz thought about it. “Guess I don’t know as much as I thought I did.”

“I want this to mean something to you, Cruz,” Cal grew more serious. “I want you to know that this isn’t my era anymore. It’s not mine, it’s not my family’s. We’ve had our time. This is yours. You’re a rookie, anything is possible yet. Just because you’re not good at the track now doesn’t mean you won’t learn. And if you suck at it, you’ll never suck more than I did. And that’s okay. Your strengths are what they are, and we’re gonna exploit them to the best of our abilities, together, alright? This is Team Dinoco: Cruz Ramirez edition. Forget about the past. This isn’t the 43, this isn’t the 42. This is the 51. We’re making a future for you that’s all your own. Alright?”

Cruz relaxed a little and smiled. “Alright.”

Cal returned the smile and nodded. “You’re alright, kiddo. Now, I won’t hold you up any longer. You’re free to go if you want. But be back tomorrow morning! We’re gonna start fresh.”

“Actually,” Cruz gazed thoughtfully down at the floor. “I was wondering if we could run a couple more laps? If you don’t mind running with me, that is.”

“You want me?” Cal asked, surprised. “On the track? With you?”

“Yeah, I mean, why not? Teach me how to learn, you know?”

“Well, I’m no McQueen, but…”

“Psh, you think I was a McQueen fan and just a McQueen fan? Please. I had a few favorites, you know.”

Cal grinned. 

“First one to the track’s a flat tire.”

[bevioletskies]

across the universe [2/8]

summary: Peter, the son of the Chancellor, has lived among the stars for the first ten years of his life. Gamora, the future Commander of Terra, has lived on the ground for the first ten years of hers. Though it’s finally time for the last survivors of the so-called apocalypse to return to Earth, they might not be prepared for what’s waiting for them. But when Peter and Gamora meet and find their worlds irreversibly tangled together, titles, obligations, and the impending war may be the very last thing on their minds.

a/n: The premise of this fic is very loosely based off of The 100, the television show more so than the book series. However, no previous knowledge is required, as I only used the basic concept and language, and none of the storylines or characters arcs from the show.

Fic title is from the song Across The Universe by The Beatles. Prologue can be found here. Warning for injuries, blood, and bad parenting.

word count: 11.4k | ao3 | tag

Gamora felt as if she looked a bit strange to anyone who happened to be nearby - hopefully, nobody - sitting under a tree, tapping one foot impatiently as she sharpened her favorite blade. Logically, she knew it would be safer to hide at the top of the tree in case she came across the wrong clan, but there was a sort of nervous energy pulsating through her that needed to be expended, different to the kind of energy she felt during a training session (or a real fight).

While she waited, her mind wandered to earlier in the morning when she was at breakfast with Nebula. It was hard to look at her sometimes, to see the pieces of her that were no longer her, the pieces that glinted in the sunlight and echoed with a metallic clang when struck. To their father, a broken leg meant a replaced one, an offhand complaint about being unable to hear something meant a complete overhaul of her sensory system. To him, a lost fight meant everything. Gamora looked down to her own arm, watched the silver twist and turn underneath her skin like new veins. They still burned sometimes.

“Gamora?”

She quickly drew her arm behind her back and looked up to see Peter standing there, a boyish grin on his face. He was dressed differently than when she saw him three weeks ago, his hair longer and curling slightly over his shining eyes. The most notable thing, however, was the glow of his hands, and in his cupped palms was a crudely-made rubber ball. “Hapotei.”

He blinked. “Sorry?”

“Happy birthday,” she sighed; she could’ve sworn she’d taught him that last time after they agreed to meet on his eleventh birthday. They’d been meeting in secret for six months now, starting off as her simply teaching him some basics of the language and the planet, then quickly developing into tentative, but hopeful friendship. She also conveniently left out the fact that she was a daughter of Thanos. In all fairness, he spoke fondly of his mother and sister but didn’t speak of his father, either, and they left it at that. She knew it was risky for both of them to be spending time together, but she found herself genuinely enjoying his company, found that she felt just a little bit less like their great and terrible world was waiting for her to lead the way. He was the only person in her life who didn’t know her predetermined fate.

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, she got to her feet and went to join him, stashing her blade as she did. “I think it’s weird that your people remember what day they were born.”

“I think it sucks that your people don’t,” he shot back, though not unkindly. “But c’mon, isn’t this cool? Made it myself!” He held out his hands, proud. She poked the ball gingerly, leaving a permanent fingerprint on its surface. “Okay, so it’s not the best thing ever - ”

“It’s...better,” she said slowly, thinking back to the time he’d presented her with what looked like an approximation of a deflated balloon. She had asked him about the light the second time they met since she never got the chance during their first encounter, and ever since then, he’d been far too eager to bring deformed creations along with him. “You’re getting better.” Her eyes flickered upwards to his shoulders, taking in the shiny red leather. “Your jacket...it smells new.”

“You can smell - yeah, okay,” Peter chuckled. “Yeah, it’s a birthday present from Yondu. Oh, and my mom gave me this!” He unhooked something from the belt loop of his jeans and held it out to her, some rectangular device that looked positively ancient compared to all the technology they both had access to. She carefully took it, turning it over in her hands as if it would magically explain itself. “It’s called a Walkman. Plays music.”

“My people don’t have music,” Gamora said. Peter looked scandalized. “What do you do with it?”

“Do? Nothin’. You listen to it. Or you can dance.” He shrugged.

“My people don’t dance,” she retorted, sullen.

“No birthdays, no dancin’...your people really don’t know how to have fun,” Peter grinned. “You gotta dance with me sometime.”

Gamora looked at him dubiously. “...no.”

He only laughed, bright and notably cheerful, even for him, and ambled on down the slope toward the stream, gesturing for her to follow. She huffed impatiently - honestly, she gave him one orienteering lesson and suddenly he was acting like he was the expert - but followed him regardless.

The weather was idyllic, far nicer than it had any right to be. Last night had been another night of war, the kind that raged on until sunrise, when blood seemed brighter and bolder and ridden with guilt. Thanos and Ego had been attacking each other from afar, still having never met in person, and every day it seemed like there was at least another name or two or ten that both sides were left to mourn. Gamora had grown numb to it; Peter had not, holding his breath every time his father had another announcement to make. It was something they never talked about.

“I don’t wanna learn nothin’ new today. Let’s just...sit.” Peter plopped down unceremoniously beside the stream, his legs sprawled out across the pebbles, not caring for the way the water trickled between them, dampening the underside of his jeans.

“If it’s your birthday, how did you get away from your family? Don’t they want to spend time with you?” Gamora asked, sitting neatly beside him. She drew her knees into her chest, away from the water.

“Parents are working, sister’s with her friends. They didn’t even see me leave,” he said, shrugging. “Mom said she’s gonna make me a cake later.”

“Your mother sounds so perfect whenever you talk about her,” she said wistfully. Peter perked up.

“You wanna meet her?”

Gamora was startled by the question. It had never crossed her mind that she and Peter could exist outside of the space they’d created for themselves. She knew she certainly didn’t want Peter to get anywhere near her world, still remembering the awful way he’d looked at her when she mercy-killed one of her soldiers on the night they met. She didn’t want him to look at her like that ever again.

“Maybe,” she hummed, hoping she sounded more nonchalant than she felt. The idea of a parent who loved their children was not something she’d ever entertained. There were plenty of loving families within Sanctuary’s walls, sure, but it was mostly parents adoring the children who were strong enough to become warriors, and disregarding those who weren’t. Her mind went to Drax again, how he used to sit by himself at meals until Gamora (and a reluctant Nebula) decided to join him. Losing his parents so young had done him no favors in so many unfortunate and unforeseeable ways.

“Then come back with me.” Gamora had been so lost in her own thoughts, she nearly forgot what Peter was talking about. “You can have cake and meet my family! Or I guess, my mom and my sister.”

“Not your father?” she asked.

“Everyone says he’s not a ‘family man’,” he said dismissively. “Y’know, whatever that means.”

“I don’t,” she said, frowning. “Does he work a lot? You make him sound like a very important person.”

“He’s...uh...yeah, you could say that,” Peter hedged, refusing to meet her eyes. Gamora’s frown deepened.

“Is he part of your army?” she persisted. “Like a general? A captain?”

“Like...he’s kind of…” He scratched at a non-existent itch on the back of his hand, his gaze now fully cast downward into his own lap. “...the Chancellor.”

Gamora shot to her feet, her mind racing with possibilities, her heart beating with betrayal. Already, she could feel tears burning hot in her eyes, taunting her for letting trust overtake instinct. “Your father is the one killing my people?!”

“Your people started it,” Peter mumbled petulantly, cowering, though he knew it was only going to make things worse. “My mom and all them others, they just wanted their planet back. I don’t see why we gotta die for it.”

“I can’t - ” Gamora exhaled, resting one hand on her stomach, fingers splayed outward, willing herself to calm down. “There are orphans, Peter. Children who don’t have parents because your father wanted it that way.”

“You think we don’t got that, too?” His voice was rapidly rising; fists balled up in his lap. He didn’t want to give Gamora the satisfaction of knowing she’d angered him; Meredith had told him too many times before that he needed to be better with his temperament. “Everyone...everyone’s got dead people. ‘Cos of my dad, and...what’s his name again?”

“Thanos.” Gamora swallowed. “My father.”

Now it was Peter’s turn to have his blood run cold, to have his mouth fall open in a rather comical manner, though neither of them were laughing. “You gotta be kiddin’.” When she shook her head, he also got to his feet, shaking off the damp bits of grass that had stuck to his clothes. “Some birthday I’m having.” With that, he turned and ran off, ignoring Gamora calling after him, a voice he’d been so thrilled to hear when he first arrived, a voice that now made him feel vaguely ill.

“Peter, please!” Gamora shouted, even after he was long gone, and she groaned in frustration, collapsing back down onto the ground, not caring when her boots struck the water and splashed the hems of her pants. It amazed her how terrible everything had become so quickly, how awfully serendipitous it was that the one Skaikru she’d befriended was her equivalent in the worst possible way. She wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling them back into her chest.

Inhale, exhale, she told herself, trying to think of all the breathing exercises she’d been taught, the rules that had been drilled in her head. She could almost hear Thanos’s voice, paradoxically dull and menacing at the same time: “Your anger doesn’t feed you, daughter, it starves you. What you need is focus. You are a plangona, the future heda. Do not waste your breath on those who don’t deserve it.” Her eyes slid closed, her breath evening out, gentle. In. Out. In. Out.

In her peace, Gamora never saw the unfamiliar hands that reached out for her.

Peter returned to New Arkardia not too long after he left, his face and fists still burning with anger. He was instantly waved through the gates upon his arrival, weaving through the crowd of people who either reached out to greet him with far too much enthusiasm or looked at him with far too much derision.

He reached his house a few minutes later, a happy medium between his father’s lust for luxury and his mother’s desire for normalcy, built a mere two days after they landed on Earth. Peter had to admit, as much as he despised Ego’s over-the-top approach to just about everything, the New Arkadia settlement was something to be proud of. It was a small, self-contained town, with dirt roads winding and snaking along between the trees, houses and community buildings nestled along the way, running alongside the river. They had a steady stream of food and supplies, all the adults had settled back into the jobs they had on the original Ark, and the children had mostly adjusted to their newfound freedom, the ability to take in fresh air after a long day in the classroom. However, no one strayed too far from their territory, knowing that the other factions were still hunting them, waiting to chase them right off the earth.

“Peter, is that you?” Meredith called from the living room when he opened the front door. “Where’ve you been runnin’ off to, baby?”

“Followin’ Yondu around,” he lied easily, kicking off his shoes. He went to join her, still awed at the fact they had more than one couch, bookshelves that went all the way to the ceiling, thick pile rugs and quilted blankets and a crackling fireplace. It was a bit like the bigger apartment they’d had when he and Mantis were younger before Ego shuffled them off to their smaller place in favor of investing in their return to Earth, full of quiet luxuries he didn’t realize he’d missed so much.

“That’s odd, because I just left my graveyard shift at the medical center and Yondu was there, checkin’ up on that guard of his who got speared last night.” Meredith clicked her tongue to punctuate her point, though her eyes never left the book she was reading. “Don’t lie to me, Peter. You’ve been sneaking out on us, and as your mother, I have the right to know who, where, and why.”

Peter hesitated. “I made a friend.”

“What’s their name?” she pressed, flipping the page.

“Don’t matter,” he grouched. “We got into a fight. That’s why I came back.”

Meredith finally set her book aside, sweeping Peter up in her arms. “Oh, baby, I’m sorry. I’m sure things’ll smooth over eventually. They must be special if you wanted to spend your birthday with them. How far were you?”

“Outside the gates,” he mumbled into her shoulder. She instantly released him.

“Peter,” she exclaimed, the growl in her voice causing him to recoil. “Do you think your daddy made all them rules just because he can? Do you think I’m stitchin’ up wounds, day and night, because our guards just got a little clumsy?”

“I’m sorry, Mom.” He sank further into the couch cushions, ashamed. “I just...wanted to get closer to the river. The forest gets kinda boring after a while.”

“You only go outside the gates if you’ve got Yondu with you, you hear me?” She cupped his chin, tilting his head upward so his eyes could meet hers. “You promise me that.”

Peter muttered another apology, then curled into her side again, soothed by her warmth and her perfume. He didn’t want to think about how things had gone so wrong an hour ago, all the things he thought he understood about Gamora and their newfound friendship now soured by their respective truths. Of course, a part of him still wanted to see her again, but he had a feeling it wasn’t meant to be.

Gamora woke to a dull throbbing in her temples and an ache in her side. She pushed herself up into a seated position, taking stock of her surroundings, and her heart lurched in the realization that she was somewhere entirely unfamiliar. At most, she could tell she was in an underground cellar, with old-fashioned metal bars and sturdy stone walls, none of the advanced technology that Thanos used for the prisons on Sanctuary. An opposing faction, then. Can’t be Azgeda, she thought dizzily, prodding herself for broken bones, sprained joints and pulled muscles. They don’t take people alive.

It wasn’t long before two soldiers came thundering down the steps, leering at her from the cellar door. “Heda,” one of them said mockingly, threading his spear between the bars so he could prod her in the shoulder. He pressed deeply enough to draw just the tiniest bit of blood. “Did you sleep well?”

“Let me go - ” She banged her fists against the bars with a snarl. “I command you, shilkru. Let. Me. Go.”

“You are in no position to make demands. You are not our leader, wanheda is,” the other said; his voice was colder, more monotonous. “What business does he have, choosing a child as his successor?”

“Why do you care? You don’t follow him anyway,” Gamora retorted.

“It matters when we all live here, heda. It matters when your decisions could wipe out this planet, again. What is it about you that makes you so special?”

She faltered. Thanos always told her she was stronger, cleverer, fiercer than the others, but she didn’t feel that way. His army had children who were far more ruthless, and she could only imagine what the younglings of the rival factions were like. For people who had arrived here with some of the most sophisticated technology and weaponry in the entire galaxy, they’d all resorted to savagery far too quickly. “Let me go,” she repeated, gritting her teeth. “You won’t get what you want like this.”

“There must be something about you that wanheda prefers over his adult ‘children’,” the first one continued, tapping the spear against the bars, enjoying the way Gamora shivered with every rattle it made. “And if it means we should hold you here until he listens to our demands, so be it.”

“What could you want that you don’t have?” she asked. “I thought Boudalankru took most of our supplies during the first Conclave.”

The soldiers exchanged glances. “How did you know - ”

“You wear stones around your neck and waists, your cellars are made of stone,” she pointed out. “Who else would you be?” She felt an odd sense of satisfaction at their defeated expressions, though there was no time for celebration. “Wanheda will not come for me. He will not listen to you. So kill me, or let me go.”

The stone-faced one stepped even closer, pressing his face against the bars. She could smell his breath; he was close enough to see the sweat forming on her brow. “What did you say?”

“I said…” Gamora’s voice cracked as she reached out, trembling, to grip the head of his spear and pull it right underneath her chin, its tip pressing into the underside of her jaw. “...kill me, or let me go.”

The other soldier put his hand on his companion’s shoulder, tugging him back in warning. “Koken hainofi...tsa bants.”

“Heda, nou hainofi.” She shoved the spear back through the bars and into the soldier’s chest. Though her breath was still coming in short, her palms bloody and her knees buckling beneath her, she couldn’t help but smile as the two of them sprinted up the steps, a large wooden door hastily slamming shut behind them. “Bushhadas,” she muttered. She then turned to look at the cellar, how bare it was, how there was nothing she could to do to free herself. Well, she thought, rolling her jacket sleeves up, not yet.

Two days came and went, and Peter was still restless over what had happened on his birthday. The rest of the night had actually been kind of nice - they had an intimate family dinner at their house, with Yondu and Kraglin dropping by for cake. Even his father had been less moody than usual, though it was mostly because he’d been boasting about his recent “victory” over the Grounders, as the Arkadians had taken to calling them. Afterward, though, Peter moped around in his room, unable to concentrate on his studies or even his usual bouts of self-appointed mischief.

Then, on a miraculously quiet evening in which there were no deaths, no injuries, no war chants or cries to be heard, Peter and Mantis were doing their homework in the living room when she suddenly sat up. Her antennae glowered, casting an eerie light across her face. “Someone is at the gates.”

Ego, who was sitting opposite them, poring over his blueprints for a recreation center, shot to his feet. “Grounder?”

“I think...it is a Grounder child,” Mantis mused. Peter froze.

“Meredith!” Ego called while he pulled on his coat, not bothering to wait for her answer. “There’s an intruder at the gates, watch the children!”

“Dad, wait - ”

“No, Peter, you stay here. Be safe,” Ego insisted, sharply patting them both on the cheeks before sweeping out the front door. Meredith emerged from her private study and came down the stairs moments later.

“What was that all about?” she asked.

“There is a Grounder child at the gates,” Mantis repeated. “They are by themselves.”

“Oh, poor darling. Must’ve gotten lost,” Meredith murmured, resting a hand over her heart. “I’m sure your daddy’s gonna help ‘em get right back home - ”

“He didn’t say that,” Peter interrupted. “He said ‘intruder’, not ‘kid’.”

“Peter, you know that don’t mean anything,” Meredith scolded lightly, gesturing for them both to settle back down. “Finish your homework now, you’ve got that big presentation tomorrow.”

Reluctantly, they followed suit, sinking back into the couch and picking up their books again. Meredith briefly went upstairs to grab her stack of patient records and bring them back down with her so she could stay close by, though her eyes flickered to the door every few minutes, tapping her foot against the back of her opposite ankle in restlessness.

Not ten minutes went by before the door burst open and Ego stumbled in, practically tripping over his own feet, breathless. “I need all of you to come with me. Now.”

It didn’t take long for them to reach the gates, Peter’s mind and heart racing the entire time. Mantis reached for him and squeezed his hand. At first, he thought it was for herself, that maybe she was worried or scared, until he felt the tension in his body slowly ease its way out. Her breath hitched briefly, followed by a shaky exhale. He turned to smile at her in silent gratitude.

The four of them made their way to the top of the watchtower, joining the two guards who were eyeing something apprehensively on the other side of the gate. Peter had to squint to make sense of what he was seeing, the darkness of the forest swallowing up everything from sight. Then, a silhouette of a child came into focus, short and lanky, but clearly trying to stand tall, to look bigger than they really were. His heart sank when he realized this particular child had no hair.

“She’s been talkin’ that nonsense Grounder talk since she got here,” Ego muttered, his eyes full of hunger. “At first, I thought she was just a distraction for the guards, but then I heard a single word, just one word that I recognized.”

“Ai ste lufa Petr kom Skaikru au,” she called. Her voice was monotonous, dull. “Ai laik Nebula kom Trikru, strisis kom Gamora.”

“Peter? Any idea what she’s saying?” Ego asked urgently.

He hesitated. Mantis, noticing the tremble in his mouth, stood on her toes to peer over the railing, straining her neck to get a better look. “She is desperate.” Meredith made a soft noise of sympathy, reaching to gently pull Mantis back in before she could fall.

“Ai laik Petr kom Skaikru. Weron laik Gamora?” All three of them turned to look at Peter, astonished. Before they could ask the dozens of questions on their mind, Yondu came thundering up the steps, stopping to briefly growl at the guard who stood post at the bottom of the tower and dared remind him of the watchtower’s weight capacity, and shoved his way to Peter’s side.

“You know this kid?” Yondu demanded, gripping Peter’s arm. “You been talkin’ to Grounders?”

“You!” Everyone jumped at Nebula’s sudden language switch, turning back to look at her in time to see her scoff derisively at Peter in a way that made him shrink into himself. “You are my sister’s friend?”

“Not really,” he said, hating the way his voice shook, hating the way everyone’s eyes were fixated on him - not just his family’s, not just Yondu’s, but all the Arkadians who had gathered near the gates, watching the spectacle of the Chancellor’s child, of all people, speaking the Grounder language. “She’s not talkin’ to me no more.”

“She is missing.” Peter’s blood ran cold. “She never came home after she left camp to see you.”

“Did she...did she tell you about me?”

Nebula smirked; it was the first expression she’d made that wasn’t entirely neutral. Somehow, it was even more unsettling. The fact she was quite casually staring down the guards who stood directly opposite her, pointing guns at her head, didn’t help matters, either. “She keeps a box under her bed with these odd...things in it. When she didn’t come home, I went looking for clues in her room and found it, with the word ‘Petr’ written on the lid. There is no Petr in Trikru.” Peter’s face reddened, both out of embarrassment and delight.

“Peter, what is going on here?” Ego said lowly, reaching around Meredith to grab Peter. Before he could, Yondu stepped sideways to block him, holding up his hands defensively. “Captain, step away from my son.”

“You let your boy be, Chancellor, clearly they got a lot to talk about,” Yondu countered, half-bowing his head out of respect, though it only seemed to infuriate Ego further. “And boys, can you stop pointin’ your weapons at the kid already? You’re makin’ me nervous!” The guards slowly lowered their guns, exchanging shameful looks amongst themselves. Nebula seemed unbothered either way.

“We were yelling at each other a bunch, and then I guess I just...left her there,” Peter said, turning back to Nebula, his heart sinking. “Do you think that maybe...someone took her? Like one of the other clans?��

Her chin tilted downward, casting her gaze to her feet. “Maybe,” she repeated, her voice hollow. Then, shaking herself, she turned to leave.

“Wait,” Peter called. She paused mid-step. “I can show you where we were, maybe it’ll help you find her.”

“No, you are not to leave Arkadia,” Ego interrupted firmly, finally managing to step around Yondu and make a literal attempt to shake some sense into Peter, his fingers digging welts his shoulders. “Can’t you see, Peter? This is a trap! Their men are waiting for you on the other side of the ridge.”

“But Dad, if somethin’ happened to her, it’s all my fault,” Peter protested. “I shoulda stayed - ”

“And whoever took that girl would’ve taken you, too. You think they’re looking to make the distinction?” Ego growled. “No, you’re coming straight home with us. Let Yondu’s guards take care of the little actress down there.”

“Ego,” Meredith warned. “Don’t you go after that girl. She’s just lookin’ for her sister, she’s not here to play tricks.”

“This is the first day in months that we’ve had no attacks, and suddenly she shows up, you think that’s a coincidence?” Ego snapped, gesturing wildly in Nebula’s direction. Still, she remained unmoved, arms folded across her chest and tapping her foot like they were mildly inconveniencing her. “You take the kids home, Meredith. Right now.”

“If I may, Chancellor, I think your missus has a point,” Yondu said, clearing his throat. “Now, you know me, I can smell a rat a mile away, and I don’t smell nothing right now. Let me take your boy to help ‘er, and he’ll be safe with me.”

Peter turned to Meredith with wide eyes. “You said I could only go outside the gates when I’m with Yondu, remember?”

She couldn’t help but chuckle, bending down to meet him at eye level, running her fingers through his hair, stopping to cup his chin. “I did, didn’t I? What kind of mother would I be if I went back on my word, hmm?”

“Still the best kind,” Peter said simply, smiling. Meredith laughed, kissing his cheek before straightening up. She then turned to Yondu, her expression hardening somewhat.

“You don’t go any farther than where he was with his friend. After that, you let her people, her sister, find her. You come straight home, you hear me?” Meredith ordered. Peter nodded eagerly while Ego let out a resounding protest that fell on deaf ears. “Now you two go and help bring her home.”

Peter could still hear his parents whisper-shouting urgently at each other as he and Yondu passed through the gates, could still picture Mantis’s tiny but brave face as she stood between them, wondering silently if taking their emotions would do her more harm than good. He reached out to grab Yondu’s arm, knowing he’d be embarrassed if he attempted to grab his hand. “Thanks, Yondu,” he said, grinning up at him. “It’s real nice of you to stick up for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, I just don’t want no dead kids on my conscience,” Yondu grumbled. “Let’s go talk to her before she gets any ideas. I don’t like the funny way she’s looking at my boys.”

When they reached Nebula, Peter immediately noticed that, like Gamora, she was shorter than her demeanor made her seem. Even so, she was even more intimidating than her sister with her inky eyes, hardset mouth, and bits of metal seemingly dispersed all throughout her body - pieces in her skull, her neck, what he could see of her hands through her fingerless gloves. Peter had seen the occasional new glints of silver in Gamora’s face every now and then, but he was never sure if it was okay to ask. Looking at Nebula, he was certain it wouldn’t have been.

“You got some nerve comin’ all the way out here by yourself,” Yondu commented brazenly by way of greeting, his eyes flickering briefly behind her to check for any signs of movement in the forest beyond. “Your parents know you’re here?”

“We have a man who thinks he is our father,” Nebula said; that seemed to shut Yondu right up. “If you’re lying, Petr kom Skaikru, I will kill you.”

Peter swallowed. “Cool.”

It was a brief fifteen-minute walk to the tree where Peter and Gamora liked to meet, far from the battles and the bases, away from prying eyes. He thought about how he approached her just two days ago, excited to see her and talk to her and ask her all sorts of questions about what her life was like. He thought about how Ego was probably right - whoever took Gamora would have taken him, too. He shuddered.

“Tracks.” Nebula walked slowly beside the tread marks along the riverbank, taking a few steps back and then forward again, trying to judge the direction they’d come from and where they’d gone. “No extra footprints, no animal prints.”

“So maybe she just got lost?” Peter suggested, feeling rather silly. Nebula lifted her head to glare at him.

“No,” she said coolly. “Stealth ships don’t make any sound and only leave one set of tracks. There is only one clan who stole them from Father - Boudalankru.”

“Bow-dah-what?” Yondu repeated dubiously.

“You’ve been useful, Petr,” Nebula said, sounding about as surprised as Peter felt. “Now leave.”

“Wait, are you really gonna look for Gamora all by yourself?” Peter asked. “That don’t sound safe.”

“Nothing is,” Nebula said blithely. “Most of wanheda’s army was sent to look for her in Azgeda and Sangedakru. It will be too late by the time they get to Boudalankru. It has to be me.”

“I wanna help,” Peter volunteered. Nebula looked at him incredulously, though before she could say anything, Yondu grabbed him by the wrist and unceremoniously yanked him aside.

“Hey, I promised your mama I’d take you straight home,” Yondu reminded him. “I know you feel bad ‘bout your little friend, but there ain’t nothing we can do. We don’t know nothing about this boh-dal - ”

“Boudalankru,” Peter repeated, remembering the time Gamora had tried and failed (on his part, that is) to teach him all the clan names. It seemed so long ago. “There’s gotta be something I can do, Yondu. Please?”

“No,” Yondu said firmly. “We’re goin’ home and you’re goin’ straight to bed, or your mama’s gonna skin me alive.”

Gamora’s palms were scraped raw, her fingernails broken, her skin cracked. She’d torn a strip of fabric from the bottom of her shirt, then ripped it in two and wrapped it around her hands to suppress the bleeding. Her throat burned from the lack of water, her stomach ached from the lack of food. It had been at least a day since she was taken, and the guards had refused to relieve her of any of her discomforts for her insolence. Now, she was sat cross-legged on the floor of the dirty, damp cellar, contemplating her next move.

Think, Gamora, think, she muttered inaudibly, running her hands over the length of her body for the thousandth time, checking to see if they’d somehow left something sharp on her person, and somehow she hadn’t noticed until now. Then her thumb snagged on the zipper of her jacket, and oh, she thought, there it is. With a quick jostle and a sharp yank, she broke the zipper head clean off its teeth.

She crawled toward the cellar door, then flattened herself against the ground so she was eye level with its bottom hinges, silently assessing the size of its screws. Grimacing, she got back to her feet and began pacing the length of her tiny confinement, running her fingers along its stone walls. She startled a little when she felt a sharp pinprick on the pad of her finger, enough to draw blood. Gamora stepped closer to examine the spot in question, how invisible it was, even to her enhanced eyes, then lifted the tiny zipper head to its surface. Slowly, but surely, she began to file away at its edges.

Long, arduous minutes went by as her shaking fingers moved back and forth, sometimes catching her skin instead of the metal, sometimes slipping from her hand and clattering to the floor. Once she was satisfied with her handiwork, she knelt back down and slotted the sharpened metal into the slot of the screw, turning it ever so slightly. She stretched upwards to reach the top hinges, too, straining with every last bit of strength she had. She stepped back, taking a moment to let her breathing slow to something that wasn’t threatening to swallow her up. You will not die in here.

Gamora stepped forward and rattled the bars. “Chek ai au, bushhadas!” she hollered. “Ai laik yu heda!”

It took less than a minute for the guards to return. “You’re a noisy little thing, aren’t you?”

She merely glared at them. “I’m hungry,” she said, her tone that of an impatient child.

The soldiers exchanged glances, then laughed. “We already told you, you are in no place to make demands, heda,” one of them sneered. He pushed his spear between the bars like he’d done earlier, its end hovering mere inches from her nose. “Why don’t you tell your father we have demands to make of him?”

“He is not my father,” she growled. With that, she gripped the head of the spear and yanked it towards her, jolting it right out of the soldier’s hands so it hit the cellar bars with a loud clang. Using her momentum, she then shoved forward, both her hands braced on either end of the spear, and the door collapsed onto both guards, the hinges shrieking precariously as it fell. They both cried out in shock, their hands scrabbling desperately to get a grip on her somewhere - her hair, her wrists, anything they could use for leverage - but she had them pinned down, the door weighing heavy on their bodies. “If you have demands, you tell them to me.”

The only noise that escaped either of them was an awful, guttural choking sound, sputtering and spitting as the metal bars and the spear laid perfectly across their necks. Gamora got to her feet, pausing to stare at them, swallowing down the acid burning in her throat. They will live, she thought urgently, her heart racing. You didn’t kill them. Not this time.

She sprinted up the stairs, finding herself in a small entryway that seemed to branch off into a whole series of stairways that led to other cells. There, she found her utility belt and weapons tossed aside, and she quickly gathered them up and slipped them back on her person, staying alert to the sights and sounds nearby. When she was ready, she took a deep breath, then pushed her way out of the prison entirely. She was greeted by the blindingly bright sun and the sound of a dozen soldiers’ war cries descending upon her.

“Can’t believe you talked to me into this nonsense,” Yondu grumbled. He, Peter, and Nebula were hidden just outside the vicinity of the guardsmen quarters, where the vehicles were stored. While the Grounders used all manner of technology, as old-fashioned as horses and as high-brow as cloaked ships, the Arkadians kept close to their base, and therefore never needed much more than a few ships and a fleet of armored cars, courtesy of Ego’s limitless powers. “If we don’t die out there, we gonna be dead when we get back. Your daddy’s gonna spear me like an Orloni, then he’s gonna whoop your ass into shape ‘til you’re his age.”

“Do you people ever shut up?” Nebula hissed before Peter could protest. “Why are we hiding from your men?”

“Some of my men are more loyal to the Chancellor than their captain,” Yondu said begrudgingly. “Now get in there ‘fore they see us.”

Their initial take-off was a bit of a tumble since Yondu hadn’t flown since they arrived on Earth - it certainly didn’t help that Peter was trying to push all the buttons on the console in a futile attempt to make himself useful - but then they were airborne, heartbeats pounding rapidly in their ears as they watched the ground get further and further away. Nebula shoved Peter out of the co-pilot’s seat to assist Yondu, grumbling under her breath about his poor steering. Peter then situated himself in the passenger’s seat directly behind her, peering over her shoulder.

“You know how to fly a ship?” he asked, awed.

“Yes,” she replied shortly, though she almost sounded proud of herself.

“Does Gamora?”

Nebula huffed. “How did a goufa like you become friends with my sister?”

“By being awesome,” Peter grinned, leaning back into his chair.

Now it was Yondu’s turn to snort. “Alright, buckle up, kids, I ain’t responsible for you two flyin’ out the window if you don’t.”

Meanwhile, back in New Arkadia, Mantis was curled up by the large bay window at the front of their living room, her face and hands pressed against the glass. She watched as the telltale lights of the underside of Yondu’s ship soar up into the night sky, then peel off into the darkness. “Baby, I thought I told you to go to bed.”

She let out a startled squeak, turning to see Meredith standing in the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. “Sorry, Mama,” she mumbled. “It is just...Peter is not back yet.”

“Your daddy already sent some guards to go looking for ‘em. Nothing we can do not but wait and hope for the best,” Meredith said soothingly, moving to sit beside Mantis by the window. She reached over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, smiling when Mantis nuzzled affectionately against her hand. “You want me to tuck you in tonight, maybe read you a book and take your mind off things?”

“I do not think I can sleep,” Mantis admitted. “My stomach hurts.”

“I know you’re worried,” Meredith nodded, clicking her tongue sympathetically. “I won’t pretend I’m not worried, too. I know you can see right through me. But we have to take comfort in the fact that Peter isn’t alone. This isn’t like that night, okay? This isn’t like when he ran off trying to protect us.”

Mantis shuddered in memory of that fateful night, the night where the Grounders made themselves known to the Arkadians, storming their camp and chanting their war chants, crying their war cries. The night where Peter was there one moment and gone the next, leaving nothing but a trail of light behind him. He had returned with a sort of haggard look in his eyes that no one ever expected to see on a child. He’d collapsed into Meredith’s arms, mumbling about how tired he was, reached out for Mantis’s hand so he could squeeze, so he could know she was still there for him to look for. In that moment, Mantis felt everything he felt - shock, guilt, disgust, and oddly enough, the tiniest glimpse of hope. Now, she wondered if that was the night he met Gamora, if she was the one who helped him feel just a little bit less like that night was the worst night of everyone’s lives.

“Mantis?” She shook herself out of her thoughts to see Meredith staring at her, brow furrowed in concern. “I asked if you wanted some tea for your stomach. I don’t want you on any medication of any sort unless you really need it.”

“Yes, please.” Mantis turned back to the window while Meredith went into the kitchen, silently pleading for the lights to come back, to bring her brother back so she would know he was safe. She closed her eyes, antennae glowing faintly, trying to see if she could detect Peter above all the noise of the thoughts and heartbeats of their people.

“Mantis?”

She turned again, only to find herself looking up into Ego’s face. “Mama is making me tea before I sleep,” she said before he could ask. “My stomach hurts.”

“Worried about Peter, huh?” Ego sat in Meredith’s place, clapping her on the shoulder. “Well, you heard me back there. I made it very clear to your mother that letting him go off wasn’t a good idea, but unfortunately, she’s about as stubborn as I am. We all are. So let’s just hope Yondu makes good on his word because I’m certainly going to have a few for him if they come back.”

“If?” Mantis repeated.

Ego’s face softened. “I meant ‘when’,” he said quietly.

“And what about everything else that is out there? Those bad men who took that girl’s sister?” she asked.

“That’s what I'm trying to protect you from. All of you,” he insisted. “Because they aren’t men. They’re animals, trying to keep people like your mother from getting their planet back, from taking back what’s theirs. And I’ll be honest, I don’t like that Peter decided to be friends with one of them. Not one bit.”

“But she is a child, like him and me,” Mantis said defensively. “She needs friends, too. Maybe she does not have any.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me,” Ego said, chuckling derisively. “They may inhabit a planet of humans, but there is no humanity left in them.” He got to his feet as if to leave, only to stop when he saw Meredith approach them both, holding two steeping hot mugs of tea. “Meredith.”

“Ego,” she replied. “I thought you went to bed.”

“It’s hard to, when our son is out there, possibly dying or dead. I’ll be surprised if any of us get any sleep tonight.” His voice was low, dark; he didn’t wait to hear Meredith’s response, turning and sweeping up the stairs to their shared bedroom without a backwards glance. She stared after him for a moment, then carefully rearranged her expression into something that resembled a smile and rejoined Mantis by the window.

“Sorry, baby,” she murmured after they’d taken their first few sips. “I keep tellin’ myself not to fight with your daddy in front of you, but we both got tempers we ain’t proud of.”

“I am used to it,” Mantis shrugged.

Meredith shook her head adamantly. “No, Mantis, don’t get used to it. It’s not healthy, for us or for you and Peter.”

“I am trying to listen for him, but it is so hard.” Mantis pressed her palm against the glass once more. “I can only hear our people. They think about him.”

“Don’t let those powers of yours take over your life, baby,” Meredith urged, reaching to gently pry Mantis away from the window and pull her against her chest, Mantis’s head resting over Meredith’s heart. “What you need is to drink your tea, go to bed, and when you wake up, Peter will be home. I swear it.”

“Can you stay with me?”

Meredith’s heart simultaneously broke and swelled at the same time, pulsating so sharply she was sure Mantis heard it. “Of course, baby. Always.”

It was pitch-black by the time they reached Boudalankru territory, but Peter was still wide awake, perhaps a little too wide awake. He’d spent the last half hour of their trip trying to formulate a plan for how to find and rescue Gamora, and was promptly shut down by Nebula every single time.

“Leave it to me, Petr kom Skaikru,” she insisted, twirling one of the many blades she had on her utility belt, something that reminded him too much of Gamora. “Stay here and don’t get in my way.”

“Finally, something we can agree on,” Yondu commented as he brought the ship down to land.

Peter followed Yondu and Nebula off the ship despite their protests, looking around in awe at their surroundings. Boudalankru was more modern than its name implied; Yondu and Peter had expected old-fashioned stone huts and gravel paths, but instead were met with a micro-city juxtaposed against the impossibly tall trees that masked the horizon. Modern buildings made of limestone and glass were lined up in a too-straight line along the paved concrete roads, small passenger ships were parked neatly beside them. Metal signs were embedded with what looked like Kree language, and seemingly brand-new lampposts flickered overhead as they continued walking down the barren streets. The most jarring thing of all was just that - there was not a single person to be found.

“Are we in a horror movie or somethin’?” Peter whispered uneasily. “I don’t hear or see nobody.”

Yondu let out a low whistle, prompting his yaka arrow to shoot out of its pouch and hover by his temples. He gestured for both of them to get behind him, but Nebula ignored him in favor of walking up to the nearest building and pressing her face against the glass, peering inside for any sort of indication that they hadn’t just stumbled across a ghost town. Peter hesitated, then ducked into Yondu’s side, though he kept one hand extended, letting it glow faintly to lead the way while they continued on, the street lights getting dimmer the further they went.

The minutes dragged on forever, Peter’s heart beating so rapidly he thought it would collapse, until they finally heard something - suddenly a lot of something, the sounds of victorious shouts in alarming numbers. Yondu sprinted in the direction of the noise, the children following closely at his heel, and found themselves in proximity to what appeared to be an outdoor in-ground arena, the kind with endless rows of seats and blinding floodlights, filled to the brim with every last member of Boudalankru. The three of them quickly made their way to the edge, pushing their way to the front of the crowd, and looked down, astonished at what they saw.

In the middle of the whole spectacle was Gamora, blood streaked across her face, her torso, her everywhere (Peter was starting to become more accustomed to seeing her with blood than without, and he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing), thrusting her short blade above her head in the clear universal sign of victory. Lying at her feet was a boy who looked no more than sixteen, panting and heaving and wounded by more than just his pride. Around them, the crowd stomped their feet, clapped their hands, chanted: he-da, he-da, he-da…

“Yo laik ai kru,” Gamora shouted, her voice amplified by the device that was wrapped tight around her neck. “Ai laik yu heda!” Everyone roared back with vigor. Nebula recoiled.

“What the…” Peter turned to look at Nebula, speechless. “What’s goin’ on?”

“She called for a Conclave,” Nebula murmured. “And she won. As she always does.”

“She don’t look like she needs our help,” Yondu said, sounding half-impressed, half-terrified. “But alrigh’, let’s go get ‘er.”

They continued to shove their way through the throng of people, though Peter and Nebula soon found themselves constantly getting knocked aside due to their obvious height disadvantage, clinging onto the tails of Yondu’s coat before they could lose sight of him. Eventually, Peter’s impatience got the best of him, and he simultaneously let out a frustrated shout and a blast of light, startling everyone within a fifty-foot radius. They managed to sprint the rest of the way down to the arena ring without trouble after that.

“Sister!” Nebula shouted. She didn’t wait for Peter and Yondu, instead vaulting herself over the electric fence perimeter like it was nothing. Gamora’s eyes lit up with a different sort of elation upon hearing Nebula’s voice, and she ran to embrace her, much to Nebula’s chagrin.

“Nebula!” Gamora burrowed her face in Nebula’s neck. “It’s so good to see you, sister.”

“Do not - ” Nebula wrestled out of Gamora’s grip and shoved her back; she was now covered in blood, too. “You’ve been gone for two days, and suddenly you rule Boudalankru?”

“Something Father has never done before,” Gamora said gleefully, her face shining. “Do you think he will be proud?”

“Is that why you did this? Is that why you hurt their champion?” Nebula looked over Gamora’s shoulder to the boy, still crumpled on the ground, now being tended to by his people’s doctors. He blinked blearily up at them in a daze, though one of his eyes was swollen shut.

Gamora faltered, the light in her eyes starting to dim. “It was either a Conclave or my death, Nebula. I chose to survive.”

“Of course,” Nebula said hollowly. She nodded behind her. “Your lukot is here.”

“My - oh.” Gamora finally seemed to notice Peter standing there with his mouth hanging open, now that he could see her up close, see the story of her battle written out on her clothes, her skin, her face. “Petr...what are you doing here?”

“Nebula found me and told me you were gone, and I wanted to help.” He stepped forward, shooting her a strained, but hopeful smile. “I feel real bad about all that stuff we said to each other. Your people are just as important as mine, and maybe...maybe if your dad and my dad talked, all of this could just...stop. I don’t wanna fight anymore. Me and you, and my people and your people.”

“You don’t know our father,” Gamora sighed, though she looked relieved to see him regardless. “He does not want peace. He will not talk. He didn’t even look for me.”

“That’s not true,” Nebula interjected. “Father sent nearly his whole army looking out for his beloved heda.” Gamora narrowed her eyes at Nebula’s tone, though she decided not to comment on it. Instead, she glanced up at Yondu, who was stood firmly over Peter, staring down at her in mild perplexion.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Captain Yondu Udonta of New Arkadia, and Quill’s chaperone,” Yondu replied gruffly. “And you are the scariest little thing I’ve ever seen.”

Her entire expression shifted into something far more childlike, and Yondu found himself regretting his choice of words. “I do not want to be scary,” Gamora said, hastily trying to wipe the blood off her face; it only rubbed it in further. “I just wanted to survive.”

“Well, you did just that.” Yondu tried not to look at the Boudalankru boy, tried not to listen to the way he cried out when the doctors lifted him onto a stretcher, cursing heda to the heavens. “Let’s go ‘fore these boo-doll folk get any ideas about looking into me n’ Quill.”

“Boudalankru,” all three children said in unison. Yondu threw his hands up in defeat and motioned for them to follow.

Getting back to the ship was easy enough despite Yondu’s apprehension, with the crowd parting like the sea for Gamora, letting her and the others pass through. When he asked her about it, about the Conclave and the little things she and Peter had said about her father, she had a strange, far-away look in her eyes and merely said, “You still don’t know much about life around here.”

“An’ I’m guessing you won’t tell me,” Yondu had replied, getting an affirmative nod in return.

The walk back would’ve been silent if not for Peter’s incessant chatter, pestering both girls with questions until Gamora silenced him with a single glare. Once they were on board, though, she quietly took a seat beside him, gratefully accepting the medical kit when he set it down on her lap. He wordlessly began to help her dress the wounds she couldn’t quite reach while Yondu and Nebula sat at the controls, getting them back in the air.

“Thank you,” she murmured, craning her neck to watch as he placed the last bandage over the puncture wound in the small of her back. “And...I feel bad about what I said, too. I’m sorry. I’m not good with...words, I suppose.”

“You talk way more like a grownup than I do,” Peter countered.

“I mean like...how I say things, not what I’m saying,” Gamora explained carefully. Her face fell again, remembering what Yondu had said to her. “Do I scare you?”

“I guess...a little bit,” he admitted. “I don’t wanna lie to you anymore, so...yeah, a little bit. But that don’t change the fact that you’re my friend, and I want you to be my friend. Not just ‘cos you’re teaching me Trig and stuff, but ‘cos I like hanging out with you.”

“Ai lukot,” she said, smiling tentatively. “My friend.”

Peter smiled back, taking her less-bandaged hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Ai lukot,” he repeated.

“Father is calling for us.”

Gamora shot to her feet, instantly letting go of Peter’s hand. “What?”

Nebula held up her communicator, her mouth set in an even harder line than usual. “Maw heard of the Boudalankru Conclave and sent spies to find you, and now he knows you’re not alone. Father wants to meet with us...all of us.”

“Oh, you gotta be kiddin’ me,” Yondu groaned. “This is already the longest damn night of my life, can’t I jus’ drop you two off and take Quill home?”

“If you don’t do what Father wants, he will kill all of your people, just like that.” Gamora snapped her fingers. Peter shivered.

“Is he gonna hurt us?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“If he is in the mood,” Nebula replied bluntly, scratching at the now-dried blood on the front of her jacket. Peter wasn’t proud of the whimper that escaped his throat.

An hour later, Gamora stirred, not realizing she had even fallen asleep in the first place, startled to find she had dozed off on Peter’s shoulder. All four of them had been restless the whole way, a tense silence filling the entire cabin, none of them daring to speak about what was ahead or what was already behind them. Even Peter had been too anxious to ask, because as much as he wanted to pester Gamora with a hundred questions about Thanos, he had the feeling that no answer would ease his worries.

They touched down outside of Sanctuary; the first thing Peter was thrown by was the sheer size of the ship, far outweighing the Ark, stretching far above the fences that were meant to contain it. The front gates were also similar to New Arkadia’s settlement, with watchtower guards waving them in, though their armor only reminded Peter of the night he and Gamora met and the young, dying soldier who looked a little bit too much like Kraglin. “Monin hou, heda!” one of them called.

“‘Welcome back, Commander’,” Gamora murmured in Peter’s ear. He watched in astonishment as every last person they passed bowed their head in her direction, muttering words of respect under their breaths.

“You’re the commander?” Peter asked, agape. “What about - ”

“He is wanheda, the commander of death. I am heda, to be wanheda someday.” She bit her lip so hard she drew blood. “Only some factions listen to Father and his generals. Boudalankru was one of our biggest enemies.”

“And now what, they like you or somethin’? I still dunno what happened back there,” he admitted.

Gamora smiled ruefully. “Neither do I.”

They were accompanied by two guardsmen through a winding series of hallways, though Gamora and Nebula seemed to know exactly where they were going. Peter could see Gamora was itching to reach for Nebula and take her hand, but Nebula had flattened her palms against her thighs in a very militant-like posture, her footsteps even heavier than Yondu’s. He took a moment to look around, amazed and horrified at how different Sanctuary looked from Boudalankru. It was far less friendly-looking than the original Ark, with wide corridors and tall ceilings, all dark and hollow and intimidatingly massive.

Finally, they reached a huge set of double doors; stationed in front were two alien beings who seemed impossibly tall, wielding weapons that stood higher than the top of Peter’s head. Unlike the other Grounders, neither bowed upon their approach. “Corvus, Proxima,” Gamora said tightly. “Is your army back?”

Proxima’s lip curled into a sneer. “We’ve called off the search for our precious heda, yes. And Father has heard of your victory in Boudalankru.”

“I had no choice.” Gamora glanced down at her hands, fiddling with the gauze wrapped around her left thumb, causing its exposed end to fray. “Their champion still lives.”

“Then it is not much of a victory after all,” Corvus drawled, keeping his head straight forward, refusing to look at her. He and Proxima stepped aside, allowing the guardsmen to open the doors, a rush of ice-cold air hitting all four of them in the face before they entered the throne room.

Like seemingly everywhere else in Sanctuary, it was dark and damp and unfriendly, devoid of anything that could make it feel remotely welcoming. There was a single long platform that led to the center of the room, where two thrones sat side-by-side. One was significantly shorter and unoccupied, and it made Gamora shudder when she saw it. She only ever sat in it once per year, on her birthday, a time when wanheda liked to remind everyone who his successor was and what she was capable of. The other throne was concealed in the shadows, but there was no doubt as to who was sat upon it.

Yondu and Peter stared dumbfoundedly at the impossibly large man as he got to his feet, turning so his back was to them, casting a darkness down the length of the platform and across their faces. “I’ve been told of your call for a Conclave, Gamora. Bold of you, considering they are only meant for the most dire of situations, for a threat to your title.” His voice rumbled, bouncing off every surface, shaking everyone’s ankles and knees from the vibrations in the floor.

“They were going to kill me to weaken you,” Gamora said evenly, bowing her head out of respect despite him not looking her way.

“And your first Conclave was to be when you turned fourteen,” he continued, ignoring her. “You could have died tonight, little one.”

“But I did not.” She tilted her face back up, held her chin higher; Nebula’s entire upper body seemed to slouch in contrast. Peter and Yondu still weren’t sure what to do with themselves, glancing around helplessly, but neither sister made any attempt to guide them.

“No, you did not.” There was a hint of a smile on Thanos’s face as he finally turned around, the full effect of his vastness overwhelming Peter, who took a few steps back, heart pounding rapidly in his ears. Though he wore simple armor, it was his face that caught them by surprise; the violently purple eyes narrowing in their direction, the mottled constellation of battle scars covering every inch of his skin, the sneer of a man who had looked upon gods and found himself wholly unimpressed. “This is the boy you’ve been meeting in secret? Petr kom Skaikru?”

“Yes,” Gamora murmured. “Ai lukot.”

“How did you meet my daughter, Petr?” Thanos demanded. “And how did you come by her in Boudalankru today?”

“I - uh - um.” Peter cleared his throat, fiddling with his thumbs in a failed attempt to stop his hands from shaking. Thanos looked bored already. “My camp was attacked by your army. I ran away so they would chase me, and that’s when I met - ”

“Why would they chase you?” Thanos interrupted. Maw and Cull, who were stood at the foot of his throne, turned to look at Peter, to really look at him, Maw’s gaze flickering up and down with clear distaste in his otherwise soulless eyes. Thanos gestured to the guards stationed by the doors, and they opened them for Proxima and Corvus to step inside, both of them lifting their weapons so they were pointed directly at Peter’s back. It sent a short, but clear message - impress me or die.

Peter inhaled sharply, then held out his hands, forming a glowing orb of light no larger than a piece of fruit. Then it grew bigger, big enough that it dwarfed his own head, obscuring his face from everyone else, causing Proxima and Corvus to stumble back, blindsided. He then pulled one hand away from the other, splitting the orb in two. The one in his right hand morphed into a light dagger, the other into something he had never been able to do before - a flower, fresh and vibrant and the exact same shade of red as Gamora’s hair. He turned toward her, holding them both out for her to take. Astonished, she wordlessly accepted them both, her heart thumping in concern when she noticed the wetness in his eyes from his concentrated effort.

He looked back to Thanos. His voice shook when he spoke again. “Once I stopped running, I was real lost. That’s when I met Gamora. I asked her to help me find my way back.”

Thanos sank into his throne, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. “And today?”

“Nebula came to New Arkadia to find me ‘cos Gamora was missing. I took her to where I saw her last, an’ then we went to Boudalankru together. The Conclave was over by the time we got there.” Thanos nodded slowly, his brow raising in surprise at Peter’s somewhat-correct Trigedasleng pronunciation. He then waved for the Black Order generals to leave the room so only he, his daughters, Peter, and Yondu remained.

“You have strength, Petr kom Skaikru, and abilities I have never seen before in my countless years of crossing the galaxy,” Thanos commented. “You are no mere human, are you?”

Yondu, who had been mostly petrified (not that he would ever admit to it) throughout the entire encounter, finally moved silently to warn Peter, to stop him before he gave it away, but - “I’m half-Celestial.”

“You are the son of the man who is calling for the death of my people?”

“And you’re the one callin’ for the death of ours,” Peter retorted suddenly, clenching his glowing fists. Gamora let out a startled noise, barely noticing the way Nebula clutched at her arm automatically to brace herself for his retaliation.

Thanos merely chuckled, albeit in a very sinister way, and leaned back. “I like this one, daughter. He is too naive to know what to fear and too vulnerable to know how not to trust. Yet, he holds the powers of the universe in his hands.”

She stepped forward. “Father, I - ”

“You want this war to end, don’t you, Petr?” Thanos asked, silencing Gamora with a single raise of his hand. “You want to grow up in a world where you know nothing but full bellies and clear skies.”

“Don’t everyone?” Peter slowly unfurled his fingers, though they still remained alight. “Then no one’s gotta die for no reason.”

“And if there was a reason?” Thanos cocked his head to one side, seemingly staring right through him. “What then?”

“I - ” Peter faltered. “I guess...well, people die ‘cos of reasons, right? Like, when they get sick or hurt or just...old. That don’t mean it has to happen. It just does. And war makes it happen faster. Makes it happen to kids like me. Even if we don’t die, our parents do. My mom is a medic, and she has to tell families all the time that people didn’t make it. I don’t want no one to have to tell her that I didn’t make it, or someone to tell me that she didn’t. I want my mom to see me grow up. And...I think you wanna see your daughters grow up, too. You sent a whole army lookin’ for Gamora ‘cos you wanna see her become your heda. There won’t be no heda or Chancellor or nothing if everyone is dead.”

Thanos hummed, contemplating; Gamora and Nebula sucked in their breaths. “When you return to your father tonight, you tell him I will make peace with your people under these terms: we cease all fighting immediately, and neither of us are to pick up a weapon again for six months. Consider it a show of good faith. Then we meet in Polis to discuss the future of this planet and what is to become of those who live on it.”

Gamora made no attempt to hide her astonishment, glancing rapidly back and forth between Nebula and Peter with wide eyes. Even Yondu looked stunned despite being largely unfamiliar with what was happening, realizing the gravity of Thanos’s offer, the levity of its generosity. “I will,” Peter said, the light dimming entirely from his hands. “Um, thank you.”

“You thank me too early,” Thanos drawled, smirking. “My last condition is that you will not speak to my daughter until we convene in Polis. I can only imagine what sort of insights and intelligence she has shared with you in your time together. I will not let it happen again. The potential resumption of your companionship will be determined in my discussions with your father.”

“Wanheda, I never said anything - ”

“You keep interrupting me, little one, but I assure you, I will speak with you another time. Know your place,” he growled. “Now leave, and do not let me see or hear of you until then.” Peter shot Gamora one last pleading look before he and Yondu were promptly ushered out of the room by Corvus and Proxima, caught one last glimpse of her before they were taken back to their ship and told to never return. “Gamora, leave us.”

“I...thought you wanted to speak with me,” she said quietly.

“I did not mean now,” Thanos said, instead directing his attention toward Nebula. “I have words for this one first.”

Gamora’s legs felt heavy as she made the walk back toward the doors, trying desperately to shut out the continuing conversation behind her. “I have returned your heda, Father, something the gonakru could not do - ”

“You do not speak ill of those under my command, Nebula. In fact, you should not speak at all.”

Gamora was numb by the time Maw escorted her back to her quarters, thanks to what seemed like a never-ending night, barely listening to his non-stop chatter about “that funny-looking Skaikru child” or her “bushhada of a sister”. She felt like she only just managed to make her way through the motions as she bathed, finding it impossible to get all the blood out of everything, changed into her sleepclothes, and approached her bed. How she wished she had the chance to finish her conversation with Peter, all the conversations they’d been having since they met, about how her world worked, what it meant to be heda, what his agreement with Thanos really meant.

Instead, she knelt on the floor to pull out the box from beneath her mattress, setting it down and opening it to reveal all of Peter’s little misshapen gifts, still in their imperfect perfect condition. She put both the dagger and flower inside, surprised to find the latter hadn’t wilted in the hour that had passed since its creation, wondering if it was Peter’s doing. Smiling faintly, she put the box back in its place and turned off the light. As she climbed into bed and under her sheets, she had a feeling she wasn’t going to be sleeping tonight. Not when she could hear Nebula’s screams clear across Sanctuary.

a/n: Hey all, it's been a minute - sorry this chapter is so incredibly late, my semester had been going terribly and I barely had time to do much of anything outside of school. When I did have time for fic writing, I indulged in a little Scott/Hope (here and here if you're interested) since it was a lot lighter and less plot-heavy than this fic, but I promise I haven't abandoned this!

I know there's a lot of world-building going on right now but the next chapter will be more about character relationships - there hasn't been a ton of focus on Drax, and Rocket and Groot haven't even shown up yet, so that will get rectified soon. Also, I hope y'all enjoy Endgame when you get a chance to see it! I'll be going on vacation two days after it comes out so I'll be late to the post-movie fic party, but I'm very likely going to be posting at least three (I'm thinking Peter/Gamora, Scott/Hope, and Carol/Valkyrie, because yes) one-shots. In the meantime, thank you so much for reading, likes and reblogs would be much appreciated, and I hope you enjoyed :)

Trigedasleng translations: plangona - warrior woman / shilkru - guard / goufa - child Koken hainofi...tsa bants. - Crazy princess...let's go. / Heda, nou hainofi. Bushhadas. - Commander, not princess. Cowards. Ai ste lufa Petr kom Skaikru au. Ai laik Nebula kom Trikru, strisis kom Gamora. - I am looking for Peter of the Sky People. I am Nebula of the Forest Clan, little sister of Gamora. / Ai laik Petr kom Skaikru. Weron laik Gamora? - I am Peter of the Sky People. Where is Gamora? Chek ai au, bushhadas! Ai laik yu heda! - Look at me, cowards! I am your commander! / Yo laik ai kru, ai laik yu heda! - You are my people, I am your commander!

[bangtanstanst]

Bangtan Unsolved: the Spoopy Spirits of Franklin Castle || 3 AM

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It appears your beliefs aren’t as cut and dry as you thought they were – but all you can do is simply push on.

characters: reader + hoseok, ft. the rest of ot7

genre: ghost hunter!au, horror I guess?, attempts at humour

warnings: (mentions of) ghosts & demons

word count: 5.5k

a/n: happy Halloween!!

“I’m cold,” you say, shivers running down your spine as the air cuts right through your coat. “Can we just go back to the library? I’d happily spend the rest of the night there while you hunt for ghosts.”

Hoseok snickers and shakes his head. “I’m sure the basement will be much better.”

You just scowl, rubbing your upper arms in an attempt to warm yourself, the crew thundering down the stairs and breaking the somewhat peaceful silence that shrouds this entire castle. Jungkook is right up front, being the one that proposed walking down the stairs backwards just so he could get a good shot of the two of you on your way down. And walk backwards he did, despite six voices of protest pleading him not to risk breaking his neck.

“So, this basement…” you start as you reach the first floor and turn to the final set of stairs you haven’t walked down yet, leading into pitch black darkness and what you can already feel are even colder temperatures.

“Uh-huh, that’s a basement,” Hoseok teases. “Servants’ quarters,” he elaborates curtly before stepping aside and looking at you expectantly, even going as far as to cock his head in the direction of the basement.

You pause, smiling at him in amusement. “You want me to go first?”

“Yeah, I’m a real gentleman,” he simply replies with a small smirk, crossing his arms.

You hold back a snort, only nodding a few times, narrowing your eyes at him. “Clearly. Letting me die first and everything.”

“Definitely. And totally not because you can’t lock me in there like last time if you go in there first.”

With a short laugh, you shrug and nod. “That’s fair,” you admit, turning towards the stairs and putting your foot on the first step. It doesn’t creak all that much, but you swear it slightly sags underneath your weight. You don’t know if you should be offended at the notion that you’re too heavy for a set of goddamn stairs, or if you should be scared for everyone’s lives – or legs, for that matter.

“Alrighty,” you mutter, setting your other foot on the stairs and then deciding to just accept the risk and walk like you normally do. “So, recap – rich enough for a parlour, a ballroom, a separate breakfast room, a library, and countless bedrooms,” you say in between your steps, glancing upwards at Hoseok as he, too, sets foot on the stairs and he, too, seems a little wary of its structural integrity. “Let’s see how much they cared about the well-being of their servants, eh?”

Hoseok’s face contorts a little more, though you read a little more empathy than fear this time. “I can already tell you that it’s not that much,” he says with a shake of his head, just as you reach the bottom of the stairs. You don’t even look around yet, turning your back to the space and waiting for the others to come down instead. “They didn’t exactly treat them like slaves, but let’s just say unions or worker protections weren’t really a thing back then and, well…” he trails off and doesn’t finish his sentence, though it doesn’t take much for you to figure out what he means.

“That bad, huh?” You point your flashlight at Hoseok’s feet so he has a little more light to work with. “I mean, they didn’t become friends or anything? I feel like you see that a lot in movies and stuff.”

Hoseok’s feet hit the concrete floor and he jumps forward a little bit, coming to stand beside you as the rest of the crew catches up. “From what I read, they did form some kind of a relationship, if you could even call it that. But being a servant wasn’t as nice and cheerful as they make it seem,” he elaborates, “Plus, they were still ‘below’ the Tiedemanns in almost every way possible and they had no way of getting out of that. Not exactly a fun life you’re leading.”

You scowl a little, turning to let your flashlight illuminate the room, though you can’t really see that much until Taehyung comes in and saves the day – ahem, night – with the larger lights he’s carrying.

The basement seems to be stuffed to the brim with old furniture, wooden planks that haven’t been used for the planned renovations, or random items, like a stray dress that looks to be from the nineteenth century.

“They say that, since the most tortured souls spent their lives here, these quarters should be the most active,” Hoseok mutters from beside you, taking in the room with wide eyes.

“You’re hoping for that?”

He pauses a moment, then looks at you and shakes his head, looking a little dejected. Or sad, perhaps. “Not really,” he replies softly, shrugging ever so slightly. “I mean, don’t get me wrong,” he adds right away, stepping a little further into the room, though he holds your gaze as he continues, “I’d love to prove that ghosts are real. But I just think that tortured souls like that – souls in general, really – deserve to rest.”

You nod slowly, silence falling over the basement as you ponder over his statement. “So you believe there’s a ghost heaven?”

“Not for ghosts, specifically,” Hoseok replies, finding a wall and leaning his shoulder against it. He looks down at his camera, adjusts it a little, then looks around the basement. “Just the same as our heaven, if there is one. Or maybe just… nothing.” He looks back at you, watches almost expectantly as you nod once more, not really saying much. “You don’t think so?” You notice Jungkook sidestep into your peripheral vision, camera pointed at your face as an expectant silence falls.

You shrug, letting your gaze travel around the room. Dark and musty, cold. If ghosts existed and you could become one, you could think of a few other places you’d like to spend the rest of time in. “You already know what I think,” you tell him with a small smile, though you humour him, “If you’re dead, you’re dead. There’s no in-between.”

He smiles a little, even letting out a soft chuckle as he pushes himself off the concrete wall. “That’s the show, right?” he says with a smile, giving you a high five as he approaches you.

“That’s the show!” you repeat in confirmation, glad for the small attempt at lightening the mood.

Hoseok is wearing a small smile as he turns to the room you’re supposed to be moving towards. “Right, so we’ll start with the common room, then,” he decides. “Kind of a break room slash living room for servants, as the name suggests. They spent a lot of time in there, maybe more than they did in their own bedrooms.”

“Well, at least they had each other to complain about their job to, right?” you try with a sigh, trailing behind Hoseok, adjusting the GoPro in your harness just a little so it’s at a better angle.

Hoseok chuckles a little. “Yeah, at least they had that,” he admits with a nod, continuing on his way and stopping right in the middle of what apparently used to be the common room, relatively secluded from the upstairs area. There are a few weathered couches here and there, some old and rickety coffee tables to accompany them. It looks like a break room, more than the upstairs bedroom did a bedroom. Old and dusty and not necessarily welcoming, but a break room nonetheless.

You open your mouth to speak, but you swallow your words when your flashlight stutters a little. You quickly shake it to try to get it back to normal, but it keeps flickering, even when you hit it. Hoseok has noticed your struggle and steps a little closer, brows furrowed.

And then, your flashlight completely turns off.

“Seokjin, you replaced the batteries, right?” you ask cautiously, looking up at him.

The man in question nods slowly, frowning a little. “I think so. You want to put in new ones, just to be sure?”

You hum and shake your head, shaking the flashlight again and hitting it once more. “No, just checking,” you reply absently, busy with trying to get the light to work again. “It might just be broken, then.”

“Or it’s something else,” Hoseok says slowly, moving his weight from one foot to another and looking around the room. “Is there anyone here with us?” he asks loudly and clearly, though he’s standing so close to you that the volume makes you wince a little. “Could you turn the flashlight back on for us, please?”

You roll your eyes, continuing to shake and hit the flashlight. “It’s not a ghost, Hobi. Just a cheap and unreliable flashlight.” You hit the object again at your last word and, lo and behold, it jumps back to life, giving off light like it never turned off in the first place. “See? It’s working again.”

“I did ask the spirit to turn it back on,” Hoseok defends, letting his own flashlight illuminate his surroundings.

“And of course it listened,” you return sarcastically, turning to once more inspect the room. “Ghost, was that you?” you ask. “I really don’t appreciate you messing with my light like that, but I’ll give you a pass, since we’re here to gather proof of your existence, I guess,” you lightly chide, a small smile on your face. “I think my friend Hoseok here would love it if you did that again, actually,” you add, pointing at a now wide-eyed Hoseok. “And even if you don’t succeed today, you can just come along with us back to our hotel, it’s only a few blocks away. Much nicer than thi-”

“Y/N! You don’t just invite spirits to ‘tag along’!” Hoseok hisses, lightly hitting your shoulder. “Sorry about that, spirits,” he says with an awkward chuckle. “Please don’t come with us, though.”

You chuckle a little, shaking your head – but that chuckle quickly dies down when, in the corner of your eye, you see a flash of white. A figure, standing in the middle of a doorway and staring at you.

Before you can really look at it to make sure, though, you blink, you turn your head – and it’s gone.

Frowning, you blink a few more times. Hoseok makes a comment in the background, but you don’t really catch it, walking closer to the entryway instead. Even upon closer inspection, the supposed figure doesn’t return, nor do you see it anywhere in the dark room the doorway leads you into.

“What’s wrong?” Hoseok asks from behind you, excitement seeping through his voice.

You turn to look over your shoulder. “Nothing, I think,” you reply, looking back into the room. Your flashlight catches the cabinet in the middle of the room and the light bounces back from the shiny surface. It was probably that, you tell yourself. Nothing more.

“I thought I saw something for a second, but it was just a reflection of my flashlight,” you tell Hoseok, turning around to walk back to him and subsequently bumping into his chest.

He takes a single step back, looking on as you put your GoPro back into the right position. “What do you think you saw?”

You look up, narrowing your eyes at him, almost reluctant to admit to the illusion. “It was nothing, Hoseok,” you reassure him, at which he just crosses his arms. “I thought I saw someone standing in this doorway, but it was too fast to even tell.”

“So you’ll just dismiss it as nothing?” he questions, a little exasperated.

Sending him a smile, you shrug and step around him to move back to the centre of the common room. “Pretty much. You can edit it all you like in post, but I’m not going to start freaking out about a ghost right now, because I honestly don’t believe I saw one.” Do I?

“You are impossible,” Hoseok says through a sigh, trailing behind you. You swear you can hear a little tremble in his voice, though it could also just have been your imagination. “Let’s just move on to the last part before I run away screaming.”

“Because of me or just because you’re terrified as hell?”

He pauses for a moment. “Bit of both.”

Chuckling, you pat his shoulder. “Sounds about right.” With a breath, you clap your hands together, scanning your surroundings. There are no figures you spot this time and you feel yourself being a little relieved. “So, what’s the last part got in store for us, huh?”

“The workshop,” Hoseok replies lowly, wagging his finger in the direction of the supposed workshop. His tone is suddenly so serious that you frown a little, planting your face next to his finger and following the line of vision. There’s just an old door you see, nothing that looks as terrifying as he makes it sound.

“And?” you ask after a beat of silence.

Hoseok drops his hand back to his side and takes a breath, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. “I already hate this so much.”

He’s often reluctant, but almost never this much – and there’s only one thing that could explain his behaviour. You gasp dramatically, looking up at him. “Is it a demon or something?”

“You sound way too enthusiastic for this,” he simply replies, though that doesn’t deter you from walking straight towards the doorway. “Y/N, wait, don’t you –“ Before he finishes his sentence, you hear his dejected sigh, followed by his footsteps right behind you. “Never mind, of course you don’t want to hear about the shit that happens in here, because you’re a reckless sceptic.”

Spinning around to face him, you turn and start to walk backwards. “A good point you make there, but do tell,” you return with a smile, disheveling his hair, a gesture at which he only scowls a little. “What’s to be found in this creepy workshop?”

“You know, one of these days, I’m just going to leave you hanging and do a voiceover for the entire episode,” he returns, one eyebrow raised.

You put a hand to your chest, shaking your head. “But how can you expect me to make my amazing and highly content-specific quips, then?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out,” he replies with a smile, though that quickly fades from his face when you arrive at the entryway of the workshop. “Right,” he mutters through a sigh. “I’ve been dreading this shit since I stepped over that threshold, dammit,” he whispers, though you figure the words are aimed at himself.

“I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned it more, then,” you comment, grinning, and you spin around to face the doorway, opening the door a little. It’s dark and you can’t really see that far inside, but it looks as decayed as the rest of the building, safe for the workbenches lining the walls, a single axe in the corner, and a few other small tools littered around the room. “So are you gonna tell me what’s up with this room or what?”

He hums, though it’s abnormally high-pitched. You turn to look over your shoulder to check on him, just to be faced with wide, terrified eyes, looking past you to scan the workshop. You wait for a few seconds, which seems to be enough – he blinks a few times, clears his throat, and jumps out of his frozen state to speak, “Right, so this workshop was also for the servants, just to fix everything that needed to be fixed. Clothes, furniture, that kind of thing.“

“Did they also fix lives, or…?”

He laughs a little, shaking his head. “That would be really great,” he says with a smile. “But unfortunately not, no. Just material stuff.” You let out a small sigh, shaking your head in exaggerated disappointment as Hoseok continues, “Today, people have seen tools knocked off the workbenches, and someone even saw the axe floating for a hot minute.”

You narrow your eyes, looking between Hoseok and the axe in the corner. “How far above the ground?”

Hoseok shrugs. “It didn’t say,” he replies, tilting your head and raising an eyebrow. “Would you believe it if I could give a concrete answer, though?”

Chuckling, you nod. “Right, good point,” you admit. “Do continue.”

“People also report getting scratched in here, especially if they challenge any spirits that might happen to be in here,” he replies. You’re awfully aware of how he’s still standing behind you as he looks into the room, as if he’s using you as a human shield just in case something does happen to attack. “The only thing is –“ A shuddering sigh escapes his lips, one that makes you turn to him once more.

“The thing is?” you very subtly encourage, tilting your head in curiosity, though you have a feeling you already know the answer.

Hoseok’s eyes flutter open, slowly. “The thing is that no one really… died in here, at least not specifically in the workshop. And it seems the spirits in here are very adamant about staying in the rooms they’ve died in.”

You nod slowly. “So?”

“So, people have speculated…” Hoseok sighs once more, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling. “Some people think it might be a demon.”

“Oh, okay.”

With a sigh, his shoulders slump. “I shouldn’t even be disappointed,” he mutters at your reaction.

You return a sweet smile. “No, you shouldn’t,” you say with a light pat on his shoulder. “Let’s go inside, shall we?”

As you start to move towards the entryway, you notice Hoseok is staying rooted in his spot, looking a little too scared for his own good.

“What’s wrong?” you ask him, frowning. “You’ve done demons before, it’s no big deal.”

He jumps back to life, taking a single step towards you, a single step closer to the demon hole. “First of all, demons are always a big deal,” he starts, holding up one finger before he adds one more. “And secondly, I don’t want to go in there because it’s three fucking AM and I couldn’t get any holy water because all three churches I went to today were closed.”

With a light chuckle, you turn and step into the workshop. “Why are you always so much more scared at three?”

“I’ve told you like a million times,” he replies, finally following you into the room. “Three AM’s the prime hour demons to do their thing. Supposedly to mock the holy trinity or something like that.”

“And that’s supposed to be scary, why?”

He raises an eyebrow at you. He knows damn well you’re playing innocent, and that you’ve asked this question a thousand different ways a thousand different times. But he still answers. “Because it’s like entering a bullfighting arena just when they’ve released a particularly angry bull, without anything to protect you.”

You send him a grin. “So all we need is a red tablecloth and we can get to the fun stuff, eh?”

Hoseok lets out a sigh, though you can see him smiling, even in this darkness. “How have you not even been scratched yet?”

You grin up at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep trying until I do,” you reassure him. “Shall I do the lockdown first?”

He looks incredibly glad to get to leave the room, even though he’ll only have to get back inside later. “Be my guest,” he says, already taking a step back towards the entryway. “I won’t give you the spirit box, since I know you won’t use it,” he adds pointedly, raising an eyebrow as if he’s silently telling you to still take the thing from you.

Letting that opportunity pass you by, you nod and wave. “Sounds good to me. Bye, Hobi! Try not to get attacked out there, either, yeah?”

He just returns a wave, spinning around and rushing out of the room. Jimin hands you a small camera, one he’s already turned on and put on the right setting to help the process along. “Good luck,” he tells you with a smile and you return a ‘thanks’ along with a chuckle before everyone exits and leaves you alone in this empty room for ten minutes.

You could just take a nap in here, considering your surroundings are doused in darkness and complete silence, so much so that you can almost hear your blood rushing through your veins. But, of course, you have a job to do.

“Hey there, demon,” you start, looking around the room. It’s small, something you somehow haven’t really noticed before. You put your flashlight on the workbench behind you, knowing you won’t see much with it, anyway. After clearing the workbench’s surface from stray tools and a layer of dust as best as you can, you plop down on it. “It’s me, ya girl,” you add. “Sitting on your workbench, just messing up all the tools you so… carefully arranged here,” you say, letting the camera Jimin handed to you film the room from wall to wall. “How do you like that, huh?”

Except for the hushed voices of the crew outside, there’s nothing in particular that you hear, nothing that Hoseok could interpret as being a demon, nor a spirit. Though he’ll probably find something to be scared about after the umpteenth time of listening through the footage at twelve AM on a Monday with the volume on eleven.

“So my friend Hoseok is standing outside right now. As you’ve probably noticed, he’s pretty terrified of you, but I’m really, really not, to be honest. So I guess this is your opportunity to prove me wrong.” You pause briefly, continuing to pan around the room. “I’m inviting you to do whatever you feel necessary to do that. Whisper in my ear, scratch me, throw me across the room, whatever you feel like doing. I’ll be silent for ten minutes, so this is the best chance you’ll get.”

Picking your flashlight back up, you turn it in your hand until you find the power button. “Going silent now,” you announce, “Please do try to kill me.” And with that, you switch off your flashlight.

You carefully put it back onto the table, even the small thump of the metal hitting the wood incredibly loud in this ear-deafening silence. Everything is dark around you now and you’ve lost all sense of your surroundings. All you have left is feeling and smell, though the cold, wooden surface of the workbench and the musty smell of the workshop don’t exactly give you much.

As is always the case, seconds seem to stretch themselves out into centuries. According to your GoPro, it’s only been a minute or two, but you’re already incredibly bored. You know you should’ve made your introduction speech longer – rookie mistake, really. You keep forgetting that you –

There’s a loud clattering.

Your heart skips a beat and you reach for your flashlight, blindly patting around in a frantic search. When your fingers finally close around it, you turn it on right away. Jumping off the workbench, you take a few deep breaths to recuperate from your second jump scare of the night, face contorting into a scowl when you taste dust on your tongue. Mind doing its own thing, it briefly flashes back to the figure in white you thought you saw just a few minutes ago, though you force that out of your mind and put on a little smile in the hopes that it’ll get you back to normal. No one wants to see you turn into a second Hoseok.

“You’re really trying, hm, demon?” you tease, approaching the corner you thought you heard the metal clanking, flashlight aiding you in your attempt to look for the logical cause for the disturbance.

There’s some more clattering, just to your left, and your head snaps into the direction of the sound. You’re not as shaken at the breaking of silence this time, though you’re growing pretty determined now to find whatever is behind this – you’ll refuse to admit to Hoseok that this is evidence, dammit.

Upon the third instance of metal clinking against metal, your flashlight finally lands on the source of the sound and you let out a breathy chuckle, almost relieved.

It’s a fat rat scurrying away from the beam of light you shine on it in an attempt to hide from you. “Caught you, buddy,” you say through another chuckle, turning away from the workbench and returning to your temporary seat.

“If that was your rat, I suggest you try to do something yourself,” you suggest to the empty room, wiggling in your spot to make yourself at least a tiny bit more comfortable. “You see, I won’t really believe in your existence otherwise.”

Once again, silence takes over the room. You don’t even hear the voices of the crew outside anymore. A cold draft makes its way into the workshop, likely from underneath the old door that barely covers the entryway and you shiver a little.

“Though I’d love to see how my friend Hoseok reacts to that, so you should do that again a bit later, when he’ll be forced to stew in his fear for ten minutes straight,” you add, legs swinging freely, toes only just grazing the floor. “He’s an easy target, really. Whisper a vowel in his ear and he’s finished. You can have some real good fun with it.”

“I heard that!” you suddenly hear from outside. You stifle a laugh with your hand, glancing at the screen of your night camera to see if you’re still holding it right.

“See? Easy,” you say with a smile. “Might be fun to try to scare him out of the room before his ten minutes are up.”

“Stop trying to get a demon to murder me!”

The smile doesn’t fade from your face as you turn to the doorway to reply, “Can’t talk, sorry, I’m in a very important conversation right now!”

“One minute left, so you better finish that up,” Hoseok returns and you throw an ‘okay’ back at him.

“Right, so I’m gonna go soon. If you still wanna kill me, please do so now, or latch onto me and follow me home to do that later. It’ll just be more efficient to do the former, though, so last chance.”

Even the very last minute ticks by slowly, flashlight steady in your hand. Your legs start swinging again and you focus on filming the room, just trying to lessen your boredom for these last few seconds. There’s no disturbance you can notice, no weird sounds or sights, no weird feelings, nor smells. Just an old, empty, and silent room, with a rat scurrying around somewhere.

“That’s ten minutes!”

You let out a soft ‘woo!’ as you slip off the workbench, calmly making your way back over to the door and carefully turning the doorknob, peeking outside and squinting when you’re faced with bright lights. “I don’t think I want to talk about what happened in there,” you say, letting out a little sigh. “I think these demons have really upped their game.”

“I know you’re just trying to scare me more,” Hoseok returns shakily.

“Is it working?”

“I won’t dignify that question with an answer.”

You laugh. “The sooner you get in there, the sooner it’s over.”

His lips turn downward into a scowl and he shivers a little. “Not helping.” Nevertheless, he reaches for the doorknob and twists, door opening slowly. “If I scream for help, you better get me the fuck out of there.”

You nod, frowning to match his serious tone. “You want me to tie a rope around your waist like last time, just for safety?”

With a curt shake of his head, he looks down at you. “We didn’t bring any rope.”

Pursing your lips to hold back the laughter you feel bubbling in your throat. “Alrighty then, so just give me a shout when you need saving.”

Hoseok nods quickly, takes a breath, and then takes the camera you hold out to him, slipping inside the workshop. You glance at Seokjin. “You’ve got the time, right?”

Seokjin nods, turning the screen of his phone to you to show you the running stopwatch, just as you hear Hoseok settling into the room, accompanied by some weird sounds he always makes when he wants to distract himself from being scared.

“I think I spooked him with my spider story,” you conclude seriously, looking straight into Jungkook’s camera. There are a few soft chuckles that follow and you smile a little. “He has been pretty scared tonight, right? Or is that just me?”

Namjoon hums and nods. “He told me when we were finishing up the script,” he replies, arms crossed. “You know he hates demons. It’s all he’s been able to think about today.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t let it slip earlier,” you wonder aloud, glancing at the door of the workshop when you hear the spirit box turn on, loud enough to sound like it’s right next to you.

“I think he’s trying to be brave this season,” Yoongi replies with a grin.

You chuckle a little. “Not exactly getting that done, is he?”

Everyone falls silent as they listen to the quick bursts of white noise, only overpowered once in a while by Hoseok asking a question. There are no particular squeaks or shouts you hear, though, meaning he’s coming up empty with this attempted conversation.

“How far along is he?” you ask after a while of staring at the tips of your boots, counting the small pebbles littering the floor.

“Almost eight minutes,” Seokjin replies after glancing at the screen of his phone.

Your hum thoughtfully, your hand flying up to your chin, fingers stroking an imaginary beard. “He hasn’t exactly let himself be silent, though, has he?” you muse, one eyebrow raising as you send Seokjin a mischievous grin.

He just narrows his eyes. “What’s your plan?”

You pause for a moment, trying to judge how much support you’ll get for your proposal. “Double his time, let him really feel it,” you finally say, crossing your arms as you await judgement.

Seokjin simply chuckles a little. He shakes his head, though does type something on his phone. “It’s your head when he gets annoyed.”

You nod firmly. “Deal.”

And so you double his time. At ten minutes, he turns off his spirit box, then asks you if it’s time to leave already, though you innocently reply that it’s ‘just a few more minutes’. At twelve minutes and thirty-three seconds, he asks it once more, seemingly counting down the time until he can storm out, though you just tell him to wait a little while longer and to shut the fuck up so the demon can talk. At fifteen, he speaks up again, voice a little smaller, but you smile and tell him he’s almost there.

When you finally tell him it’s time to leave, he lets out a loud breath, rushing out of the workshop. He exits with his hands full – spirit box, flashlight, and the camera he’s somehow balancing along with them. “I’m gonna go ahead and guess that that wasn’t ten minutes,” he says, closing the door with his foot and walking up to you. Jimin quickly takes the camera from him, giving him a little more room to put the spirit box back in his backpack, with the flashlight in his pocket.

You smile sweetly. “We thought it’d be a good idea to let you stay in there a little longer, really let you get the full experience, you know?”

“With a demon?” Hoseok asks with a glare, the look in his eyes telling you that he’s either about to literally kill you or run away screaming like he promised.

Either way, you send him a bright smile. “But hey, we’re done!” you say, holding up your hand for a high five. “And not one of us died.”

Hoseok’s annoyance fades a little and he breathes a laugh, shoulders slumping in apparent relief. “No thanks to you,” he mutters, though takes you high five.

“No comment,” you reply with a laugh, spinning on your heels to head back towards the stairs. Hoseok follows you with the crew right behind, footsteps echoing loudly.

“Okay, so I’m sure this is a useless question,” he starts, catching up to you quickly. “But do you think this place is haunted?”

Your eyes briefly flicker towards the doorway you remember seeing a flash of white in, though you once again push that out of your mind and put on a smile. “Nah,” you reply with a shrug. “You?”

“Oh, most definitely,” he replies with a firm nod. “But we’ll never agree on that, will we?” he adds with a small smile.

You nod in admittance, chuckling. “Then I guess it remains…”

Hoseok smiles back at you, eyes twinkling even in the little light there is in here. “Unsolved.”

prev • next

a/n: thanks for reading, I hope you liked it! There’s only the epilogue that comes after this :) let me know what you thought of this series and what you might like to see in the epilogue, or if you possibly want to see more from these characters! Have a great day/night wherever you are :)

series masterlist | bangtanstanst masterlist

[mystisnykoto]

The Outsiders: Chapter 01

Welcome Home

      “Omi?” Ruri asked aloud as she poked her head into Iris' workshop. “Omi, are you here?” The workshop sat silent, save for the soft hum of the computer system in the basement. “Where is she?” Ruri spun on her heels, closing the door behind to as the sun shone warmly across the district of Shirogane.

“Mmm... the weather here is much nicer than in Thanalan...” Ruri whispered to herself, stretching her arms to the side and taking a deep breath. “Goodness, it's been almost two years now!” Ruri said to herself in surprise. She looked out to the beach to spot Iris walking over from the docks. A smile exploded across Ruri's face as she dashed down the short path to the warm sandy beach. Iris smiled brightly as she and Ruri collided into a giant hug, nearly toppling over to the sand beneath them.

“This is quite the greeting!” Iris giggled as she held Ruri close, kissing her softly on the top of the head. “Was I gone at the schoolhouse longer than I thought?” Ruri giggled as well , nuzzling against Iris' chest.

“No, it was just a quiet day at my shop, so I've been really lonely today,” Ruri whimpered as she leaned back a bit, straightening out Iris' jacket and tie. “Trix still isn't back yet, and Omi is no where to be found.”

“No where? That's odd, she should still be around here...” spoke Iris as she looked over toward her workshop. “Maybe something on the computer will tell us where to find her?” Iris asked, as Ruri nodded in agreement. The pair held hands as they made their way toward the building.

“So how were your classes today?” Ruri asked as she opened the door for Iris.

“They were fine, the same few troublemakers as always, but nothing terrible. I'm just glad they are small children and not the teens, I don't think I could handle teens.” The pair giggled as they walked to the basement, the large computer sitting in the center of the room, the lights on it pulsing with a faint pink light. “This... isn't right... It should be blue...” Iris skipped over to the machine and tapped away at the control monitor, flipping quickly through the menus.

'Omikron Eta located... location... error, location not found' chripped the computer in a dull montone voice.

“System, is Omicron located within?” asked Ruri as she stepped forward, looking at the display panel.

'Correct, Omicron Eta is located within system data... error... Omicron Eta data not found. Warning, connection to Allagan network re-established. Unsecure connection available'

“Wha...” Ruri quipped as she scratched her head. “What in the world is it talking about?” Iris rubbed her chin as she looked at the flat glass platform. “Do... you think we should head inside? Do you think you can head inside?”

“I... think we might need to go in to find Omi, but I don't think you should go in alone, in case something happens in there, we'll be there to help each other,” Iris spoke, stepping up to the glass. The platform light up as soon as her foot touched the platform, as Ruri hopped up next to her wife. “It's been a while and the Bright crystal has completely receded from me, should be fine to enter again.”

“Well then, let's not wait any longer!” Ruri cheered, a look of excitement crossing her face as Iris nodded in agreement.

“Well, we have the whole week to ourselves with the holiday coming up, maybe we'll take a little bit of extra time inside?” Iris giggled, as Ruri nodded with a happy chirp.

“Definitely! Computer, commence upload!” Ruri shouted as she thrust her hand in the air, as her and Iris' body turned completely white and polygonal, vanishing into the glass beneath them.

                                                                                                                  Iris opened her eyes, as the world around her faded in from the white light. The open ring around her sat as empty as it had always been, save for a new glowing bulb at the far end of the chamber. Ruri faded in next to Iris, as her polygon solidified back into her normal body.

“Oh... well I guess she really isn't here,” spoke Ruri. The orb pulsed at the opposite end of the room as the system voice spoke again.

'System Administrator data upload complete. Network connection stable. Warning, connection to network is unsecured'

“What is this network thing it keeps talking about?” Ruri asked as the pair walked towards the light. “Do... you think that Omi is inside of here?” Iris looked at the orb, thinking over what the computer had told them previously.

“Well, the computer said it found her, but didn't know where... If she wasn't inside the system it wouldn't be able to locate her...” Iris reached forward, placing her hand on the orb. A pulse of light flashed over Iris' body, a soft circuitry pattern appearing and quickly fading away. Ruri placed her hand on top of Iris' as the same pulse flowed over her as well.

“Ooo... it tingles!” Ruri giggled as she looked lovingly into Iris' eyes. “I'm ready,” Ruri spoke as she squeezed Iris' hand slightly. Iris smiled softly, taking a deep breath. “I'm a bit nervous, but I know I'll be just fine with you there with me...” Iris nodded, smiling assuredly to her wife.

“System, connect us to the network...” spoke Iris as the orb expanded and completely enveloped the pair. A moment passed as the orb shrank to its normal size, leaving Ruri and Iris missing from the chamber.

                                                                                                                  Ruri and Iris's bodies pieced themselves together, polygon by polygon as their bodies completed their reconstruction. A bustling noise echoed around the pair, sounds of horns and muted beeps circling around outside. Iris opened her eyes, seeing a world around her with a sharp contrast, everything made from angular white surfaces with deep black walls and a glowing white floor.

“Where... is this?” asked Iris as she reached out to touch one of the objects on the table. She gasped in shock upon seeing her hand, as glowing rings banded around her fingers and colored panels were segmented by glowing pink lines from a glossy black bodysuit. Iris looked over here body, noting how she appeared almost nude, but she felt as if she were fully clothed.

“Whoa! Sweetheart what are you wearing?” Ruri spoke from behind Iris, causing her to quickly whip around. Ruri wore a similar suit, with green panels, but also had a pair of metallic horns stuck to the sides of her head. “That looks really cool! What are these things?” asked Ruri as she jumped closer and touched at the same horns framing Iris' head. A shiver wafted over Iris, as she had been able to feel Ruri's touch on the horns as if they had been her very own ears.

“Sp-speak for yourself honey,” Iris chuckled as Ruri looked to her own body, seeing the same skin tight suit molded over her. Ruri looked over her body, poking and prodding her suit and gripping the horns on her head, giving them a light tug, as it felt like she had tugged on her own ears.

“Iris, what is this? Where are we and what are we wearing?” Ruri asked as a slight panic started to waver in her voice. Iris reached forward, cupping her hands over Ruri's and pulling them to her chest. Iris pet over one of her wife's hands, even through the suit, it felt as if she were touching Ruri's bare hand.

“I have no idea honey, b-but I don't think we are wearing these. I think these are our bodies now, at least for the time being...”

(Other Stories)          (Next Chapter)

[thekimmiandjackieshow]

The Manatees & The Storm

My high school friend Sarah was still in town for a few days. We had the choice of two parks to visit. I’m sure most people would pick Magic Kingdom and EPCOT. We instead picked EPCOT and Animal Kingdom. I could not let her leave Walt Disney World without getting to show her my home park. Our first stop though, was EPCOT. It was another gorgeous day. I told Sarah she was getting really lucky with the weather. The humidity was tolerable and the minimal clouds helped cover the sun.

Beyond Starbucks, our first stop was The Seas. I’m sure that’s not where most people start, but I knew Sarah was excited about one thing: manatees. As we walked up to the Nemo ride, I told her she was going to get to see real live manatees. She instantly started crying real actual tears.

The exit for Nemo’s ride dumps right into an aquarium. It’s one of my favorite spots in Walt Disney World. It just has so much to look at, and despite being a ride dump, it never has that many people in it. I guess many people don’t pay the Disney price to go to an aquarium of all things, but to me it’s a hidden treasure. So we rode Nemo and went on to the aquarium. 

Inside the aquarium we saw dolphins, manatees, and endless fish. Sarah was in heaven. We meandered on through until we reached the gift shop. The gift shop was one place I always wanted to work and never did. In part because after my one EPCOT experience backstage, I wasn’t quite ready for another. The other part of it was that I didn’t really see a ton of shift openings for it. I still wish I had sought after it a bit more.

Stormy clouds started to roll over EPCOT. The potential for rain lingered but the day remained beautiful. Spring is one of my favorite times to go to Walt Disney World. The weather is usually nicer and EPCOT’s Flower and Garden Festival usually takes place for the majority of the season. We headed over to World Showcase so I could show her some of my favorites. 

World Showcase is a popular favorite. Tourists are amazed by the amount of detail in each pavilion. Returners have favorite spots they love to hang out and relax in. While I enjoyed World Showcase, I personally didn’t have a lot of attachment to it. I liked walking around, I loved the festivals, but I didn’t necessarily need to visit every country every time. In fact I still haven’t visited most of the attractions. But it is something I feel like everybody needs to at least see, especially because I know my opinion is an unpopular one. There is so much to see that some people feel like they could spend their entire lives there. But for me, it is one of those things that remains stagnant. Luckily Flower & Garden was well under way, and I already had several favorites.

The first favorite is the infamous Frozen Lavender Lemonade. On my first visit to Flower & Garden I happened to be in the right mood, and was easily convinced to try new things. Usually, I steer away from newly flavored drinks. I’m not a super picky eater but I’m definitely a picky drinker (alcohol or no). The fact that it was purple didn’t dissuade me, nor did the fact that I had no idea what on earth lavender would taste like. I went ahead and tried it and fell in love, much like everybody else who tries it. It’s the perfect mix of sweet and sour. It’s smooth and cold and wonderful on warm days in a park that doesn’t have a lot of shade to offer. Of course that was one of our first stops.

We made our way through all the pavilions, stopping for the occasional picture, pausing for the shows we ran into, and paying for small snacks along the way. We took our time wandering through shops in countries that fascinated Sarah. I remember us not having a ton of time though I really can’t remember if it was because I had work that morning or if it was because we had both decided to sleep in. Whatever the case, we made what we could out of the day and had a blast doing it. 

By the time the sun went down, we were in the Mexico Pavilion and had made our way all around the world. My favorite food is Mexican food, so we stopped under the covering for some nachos and decided to stay in the area to wait for illumiNations. Shortly after we grabbed seats though, it started to storm. Rain drizzled down and lightning lit up the sky. It was common in Florida. Most of the time it lasted 20-30 minutes and then moved on. Sarah asked if IllumiNations would be cancelled, but Disney doesn’t cancel things until the very last minute because weather can change in an instant. When it became clear that the storm was going to linger and IllumiNations was not going to happen after all (about 10 minutes before they actually made that announcement), we decided to make our way to Spaceship Earth. My roommate Dana worked that night and I wanted to pay a visit. We packed up our things and headed out. I mentioned earlier that EPCOT has no shade. Well, it also offers very little shelter from rain and storms. For whatever reason, that is the park I got caught in the MOST during storms. From the Mexico Pavilion to Spaceship Earth, there is almost no safe place to walk in the rain. We knew this and decided to go for it anyway. A little rain never hurt anyone and Disney had lightning rods installed in several of their buildings to keep guests safe. So we started running. The rain got harder until it was an absolute downpour. There were no guests in the streets and the lightning had gotten super close. The entire park was 101 - meaning all Cast closed outdoor locations, escorted guests to the nearest covering/shelter, and got to a safe place until the storm cleared. Ultimately it is up to the guest to decide whether or not they want to walk in the storm. No Cast Members can tell you that you have to go inside, and truthfully nobody had advised us to stay under cover. We were halfway across the bridge out of the Mexico Pavilion before we realized it was raining way too hard. We ran into one of the Ports of Call shops for safety. The store was packed with other guests seeking shelter, but we were the ones who ran in dripping wet. 

As a Californian, I will forever love playing in the rain. We just didn’t get that much rain and when it came, it was special. So I was never bothered by rain in Florida. I never minded racing through storms and winding up soaking wet. Inside the store, guests were talking and mingling with one another. People were estimating how long the storm would last, locals were trying to convince visitors that it wouldn't last long, and normal chitchat ensued. Sarah and I started talking about whether or not we should pursue our goal to get to Spaceship Earth. Both of us agreed that if we were going to do it, we needed to go ahead and do it then. 

The only problem I have with running in the rain is that, without fail, the rain fills my glasses with water droplets making it impossible to see. Then water starts to drip from my glasses into my eyes, making my sensitive eyes burn. I normally try to keep my head down to keep the water out, and get to my destination as quickly as possible.

We made a plan, and we had it figured out. A few other guests behind us were cheering us on. Nobody was outside. We ran out of the sliding doors and right into the giant lake that had formed in the entrance of World Showcase. The drains couldn’t keep up with the amount of rainfall, and massive puddles were starting to form. It was dark so we couldn’t really see where they were until it was far too late. We were ankle deep in water, I was completely unable to see, and Sarah was holding my hand and pulling me along with her. Just as I go to look up, an incredibly bright light filled the area. No time passed and the thunder came right behind it, making a deafening noise. Guests from the shop behind us gasped and/or screamed as the noise made them jump. Sarah had crouched to the ground with her hand over her head, panicked. The wind picked up, the rain fell harder, and the lightning was right on top of us. Sarah grabbed my hand and we booked it back to the store, letting the storm claim victory. By that point we were even more soaked and breathing hard. 

A few guests thought it was hilarious how soaked we were and wanted to take our picture for us. I managed to clear my glasses with another nice guest’s help. About 10 minutes later the rain let up. Lightning was sill in the area but a few guests started to head towards the front of the park. World Showcase was pretty much a lake and guests were sloshing through the flooded park. We still had a bit of time before the park closed so we made our way to Spaceship Earth. Nobody was in line and Dana wasn’t in the front greeting, so we headed up. Inside it was freezing cold. Their air conditioning was still on and when the cold hair hit our dripping wet clothes, we froze. We found Dana at the top of the ramp loading guests. I introduced Sarah and Dana and we caught up for a second. Soon, guests were behind us and Dana had to get to work. If my memory is correct, Sarah and I didn’t stick around to ride. We were too cold and were ready to go home so we went back through the exit and called it a night. The front of Future World was a lake too. I attempted to get a picture of the flooded area, but it was so dark.

There’s nothing quite like getting caught in a Florida storm during your day at the park. I honestly kind of miss it. Even though we were uncomfortably wet, we were happy. We had an amazing day and I was so happy to share that with Sarah.

[lyricalremedy]

I Hope Not (Jerome x Reader) Part 2

Part 1

Warning: I should also mention that this story contains two murderous people. They might do what they’re known to do.

I looked into her sad eyes and knew before she even said it.

Y/N’s POV

“I can’t, Jerome. I’m seeing someone else.”

There it was: his inner light being snuffed out by my cold-hearted darkness. I don’t even know why he likes me; I only cause him suffering. After all these years of his laughter being my medicine, I threw him away to get a new prescription.

“I’m so sorry, J,” tears trickled down my cheeks. “I feel unloyal. We didn’t even officially break it off, and I chose to leave you when you needed someone most. Look at you,” I pointed to his face. “That must’ve hurt like a bitch. And I wasn’t there to support you.” Maybe it was because my legs were still jelly from fear, but I could no longer stand on my own. Before I hit the ground though, two strong arms caught me.

I didn’t care who saw me in that moment. I cried. Jerome began petting my hair in long strokes. It truly felt like old times. It wasn’t until I felt a tiny hand touch my head that I returned to reality. “Mommy, I forgot to tell you something.”

I pulled away from Jerome to look at Abigail. “What is it, sweetie?”

“Seth said he was coming over early.”

Time became a cruel reminder. Friday night: date night. I couldn’t go out to the movies and leave Abigail alone with two convicts. Then again, Seth couldn’t stay either. It was bad enough that two people knew of Jerome and the Penguin’s whereabouts. Any more witnesses would create a nightmare.

I felt Jerome tighten his hold as I tried to stand. At first, I thought it was sweet of him to help me up. That is, until I realized his motive was to keep me down. “I’ll just call him quick and say that I’m feeling under the weather. People have been getting sick at work, he’ll believe me. Jerome,” I scolded as I tore out of his arms. Before I could reach the phone, a knock came from the door. Everyone stopped in their tracks.

Jerome was the first to move. “I’ll get it.” His cheerful voice did not help in the slightest.

I held him back. “No, I’ll get it. Just be quiet,” I glanced at Penguin, then back to Jerome. “Both of you.”

I wiped away any leftover tears, plastered on a smile, and cleared my throat. My hand shook as it reached for the handle. After unlocking it, I opened the door, limiting his line of sight to only me. “Seth!” I said in a sing-song voice.

“Y/N, hi!” Seth tried to push open the door, but I kept it in place. “Um, babe, are you going to let me in?”

“Actually, Seth, I’m not feeling so well. I think I’m just going to go to bed early, if that’s alright.”

Seth’s confusion subsided. “Did you want me to make you some soup or something?”

Again, he tried for the door. “No, no. I just need some rest. I’m sure it’s just a little cold. Nothing a good night’s sleep can’t fix.” I smiled. I could sense the uneasiness emanating from behind me. With the ticking time bomb of an ex boyfriend, I knew it was only a matter of time before Jerome would do something drastic.

“Y/N, really, it’s no biggie. Tonight’s our only night to be with each other. If you’re worried about me getting sick-”

“You’re right,” I lied. “I don’t want you to get sick. I know you don’t have many vacation days, and I wouldn’t want you to waste any of them because of me.”

His hand slipped around my waist and pulled me closer. “It wouldn’t be a waste if I got to spend the whole day with you.” He leaned in for a kiss.

But not before the bomb exploded. Jerome tore me away from Seth and grabbed him by the shirt. Slamming the door shut, Jerome pinned Seth against it. Now that the boys were this close together, I could really notice the height Jerome held in comparison.

“I believe the lady wants some rest,” Jerome hissed. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Penguin slap a hand to his face. I guess I’m not the only to get annoyed by Jerome’s need for showmanship.

Seth’s face drained of color. Contrasting with his dark hair, he truly took the phrase “white as a ghost” to a new level. “Y-you,” he muttered. “I k-know you.”

Jerome let out his signature cackle. “A little starstruck are we? Well, the pleasure is mine. I actually wanted to meet my girl’s excuse for a boyfriend.” His fist tightened around the fabric of Seth’s shirt.

This was getting out of hand. I needed to think of something. “Jerome,” I said walking up to him. I placed my hand lightly on his arm. He always was sensitive to sweet gestures. He said they felt much nicer than his mother’s shoe. “How about we chat over some hot drinks? I’m sure you and Mr. Penguin are tired from your adventure here.”

Still keeping his grip, Jerome looked down to see me give him a small smile. “Sure thing, doll,” he sent another glare toward Seth. “Whatever you say. Do you have any soda?”

I nodded and laughed under my breath. Some things never change. Apparently, not even taste buds after being dead for a year.

Jerome’s POV

I watched her walk to the fridge once she asked her other guests. She still looked amazing after so many months. Her new pet appeared to be watching her as well.

With my hold on his shirt, I shoved him toward the small couch. The two of us sat down as Penguin took a chair from the table. There was enough room to seat three people on the couch, but my clever friend understood that the spot next to me was reserved for someone else.

Y/N came back into the living space and handed out drinks to each person. Noticing my stare, she hesitated before sitting close to me. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, but before we touched, she helped her kid onto her lap.

That brought me to uncomfortably close quarters with the child. She stared bug-eyed at me, most likely the scars from having my face cut off. Her appearance was uncanny; she looked as if she could actually be Y/N’s daughter. The silence between us as we kept our eyes on the other became unbearable, so I tried giving her a friendly smile.

The girl shrunk back into Y/N, her face turned away from me. Y/N tightened her hold. I knew exactly what that meant. You’re safe now. Everything’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore.

“Well,” Y/N offered. “I guess my first question is: How did you two break out?”

I smiled at the memory of the frantic guards. “It’s actually a funny story. You see-”

“Are you serious?!” the pet yelled. He stood up off the couch and stomped toward Y/N. I fought off the urge to snap his neck for even daring to challenge my girl, but the sight of her mirroring his actions reminded me that’s she’s a tough cookie. She can handle problems herself.

“Calm down, Seth,” Y/N pleaded, her voice soft.

The little girl next to me dug deeper into the cushions of the couch in what I knew to be an effort of drowning out the angry voices.

“Calm down? Y/N, they are killers! I can’t believe you would allow them into your apartment. With Abigail, no less!”

“You don’t think I tried to get them to leave? Of course I don’t want them anywhere near my daughter!”

For some reason, Y/N’s confession sent pain to my stomach. I’ve never really cared much for children. But in the circus, it was included in the job description. I looked at the girl one more time, trying to figure out what I liked about her. Was it because she had Y/N’s appearance? Was it because of past experiences with kids in the circus? Was it because, maybe, I deep down wanted Y/N’s daughter to be our daughter?

Then, I figured out why Y/N’s statement hurt. “Are you afraid that I’d hurt your daughter?” I asked, interrupting the argument the couple was having. Both looked to me, he was annoyed, but Y/N seemed shocked by my sudden question.

Y/N turned her attention toward me, causing the pet to become even more furious. In a quiet voice, she began, “Jerome. Of… of course not-”

“Of course she is! You’re a monster! And you look like one too…”

I jumped up in front of him, fighting the urge to end him, not minding the amount or age of the witnesses. In my fury, I almost didn’t notice the tiny body leap to Y/N’s leg. I turned to see the girl clinging for dear life, and Y/N’s arms wrapped tightly around her small frame. The look in  Y/N’s eyes gave me the answer I was expecting: distrust. She truly believed that I would do such a thing. Sure, I could be cruel and merciless; torturing was half the fun during any killing. But seeing Y/N fear for her daughter’s life, it seemed as if she thought the same as her boyfriend.

“I’m… not a monster,” I breathed out, trying to calm myself down. I smiled at Y/N, but it didn’t convince her.

“Abigail, sweetie, go to your room.” Another blow to the gut. The child reluctantly let go of her guardian’s leg, but quickly followed the order given to her. With the child gone, I didn’t need to restrain myself as much.

I glanced to Penguin, only to find him shake his head. He knew what I was planning.

The pet continued his accusations. “See? I told you she fears you. She wouldn’t trust you to water her plants. You monster.”

The soda can in my hand wasn’t the most appealing option for a weapon, but it was certainly the easiest to grab.

Soon, the aluminum cut open a gash across his forehead, and he collapsed to the floor, clutching his head. I couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of his growing migraine. Y/N ran to his side on the floor and tried using she long sleeve to stop the bleeding.

Penguin made sure to lock the door and windows, and he also shut the blinds. He left to go into the kitchen, I assumed to fetch some water to clean the mess. We may have only just met, but he knew well enough that once I started a task, I would finish it.

“Jerome! How could yo-”

I pulled Y/N up to my level and whispered close to her ear, “Because you’ll always be mine.” I kissed her ear. “And I don’t share.”

She struggled in my hold. Being the generous person that I am, I let go of her. To give her a few moments to say goodbye to her pet.

The blood gushed out from under his hand. Y/N leaned down to him. “Seth, I’m so sorry. I have some gauze and bandages in the bathroom. I’ll go get them for you. I’ll come right back as quickly as possible, okay?” She could only speak in short sentences due to the fragility of her voice. This is a time when her pure heart and extreme empathy are a curse.

Before she stood up again, Y/N placed her hands on the pet’s face and kissed him right in the mouth. I seethed with rage at her betrayal. But I knew that it would only be another minute.

Then she’ll be mine like she always has been. But this time, she’ll know it.

So focused on her mission, Y/N didn’t even look at me as she left toward another room. I walked in front of the wounded thief. He slowly raised his eyes to me. There is was: the look of defeat. He knew what was coming next. He knew it was the end.

“You stole her from me,” I wagged a finger at him. “It’s not nice to take what’s not yours.”

Y/N’s POV

Bandages. Bandages. Where are those stupid bandages?!

I could tell that Seth started to feel light-headed by the way he barely kissed back.

As I searched the bathroom for the first-aid kit, it dawned on me what I had just done: I left Seth wounded and alone with the terrible Jerome Valeska who had moments ago struck him across the head with a soda can. Jerome saw me kiss Seth, the man who had started the ordeal. J was certainly furious with me. And Penguin knew better than to face an angry Jerome.

So I left Seth defenseless in the living room amidst two infamous murderers.

I bolted out of the bathroom and rushed into the living room. Time seemed to slow down as I saw Jerome lift the soda can. My mouth opened, but nothing came out. My feet were glued to their spot on the floor. A metallic sound rang out as Jerome forcefully brought the can down. The sound of a dropping body could be heard shortly after. Although the couch blocked my view, I knew that it had been Seth who fell to the floor. I also knew by the grin on Jerome’s distorted face that Seth wouldn't be getting up.

Suddenly, time raced back up to speed. My knees lost their strength and hit the tile. Jerome looked over to see me sob, his expression one of pride. My head throbbed, and the approaching footsteps thundered in my ears. The world blurred through my tears. My throat burned from the inhuman noises my cries were making. I felt two strong hands grab my shoulders.

Fear completely engulfed me. And so did the surrounding blackness.

Part 3

[trashynoona]

Seasons

Word Count: 4,021

Genre: Fluff lotsa fluff, with possibility of future smut (I mean come on, look at this guy?!)

I took a deep breath, inhaling the cold air of winter. The trees are barren and the grounds were covered in snow. It has been exactly 1 year since I had broken up with the man I thought I was going to marry. We met in Spring 4 years back while in middle school. I had literally fallen for the boy when I tripped over my own shoelace during physical education class. The rest was pretty much history from then on. Somehow, along the way, as we grew older, our goals seemed so much farther apart. He was a happy-go-lucky lad while I was a perfectionist go-getter. We tried, we tried so hard to keep the relationship going, but the harder and longer we tried, the more painful it was when it fell apart.

It has been a year, and yet the feeling of being in love with this boy who is also my best friend seemed so familiar. I liken this journey to a train ride. I wished for it to be a through-train; for the boy to be my destination. But the break up had only proven that I was on a train with many stops. I had went through a massive rebound phase, I thought I had fallen in love, but at the end of the day, I was alone on a train without a known destination. Many times, I had wish to go back to the comfort of the boy; but deep down, I knew I was a child no longer, I could only go forward in this train ride, there was no brake on this ride.

I tucked my scarf tighter to my neck as I scurry to class. Despite having moved to a new city for college 2 years back, the harsh winter is still pretty much the bane of my existence. ‘Huddle close!’ I heard a couple walking past you giggling into one another’s warmth. It brought back memories to the days when I first moved to college with the boy, except this time, I am facing the winter alone. He has moved on. 

I don’t blame him nonetheless, I did cause him a lot of hurt that past one year. While he was still hopelessly waiting for me at our platform, I had moved on to a new station. By the time I realised I wanted nothing but to be back at the platform with him, the boy was no longer there. So I fearfully put on my big girl pants as I continue my train ride along. 

I am terrified of the unknown; I fear the cold without the warmth of another human. But I realised it was pointless to cling onto someone hopelessly if it was not meant to be. 

School has been pretty monotonous, I am trying my best to bury myself in my studies, perhaps this way I will be oblivious to the harsh winter in my heart. 

‘You’re coming for tonight’s party right?’ My close pal Kenta asked.

‘Do I really have to??’ I whined.

‘Duh.’ My handsome friend rolled his eyes as he shove a sandwich down his throat.

‘But its not fair! It’s so cold but I have to dress in cute skimpy outfits...’ I whined further.

‘Well... come wrapped like a dumpling then.’ He replied indifferently.

‘And be the biggest loser at the party? No thanks! I’d rather freeze to death.’ I answered.

‘It’s settled then!’ Kenta gave me a wink before running off to his class.

Damn, I was fooled once again. 

It was 8pm and I had to get ready. I picked up my phone to check the weather app. It was 3 degrees celcius. ‘Tonight is probably the death of me...’ I thought to myself. I opened my wardrobe in attempts to pick out something suitable for a party and the weather. It was no easy task, especially since I simply could not stand the cold. I settled on a woolen pullover and a cute skater skirt. I guess my body will just have to compromise. At least my torso will be warm I thought.

I arrived at the party with Kenta. The music was booming and people crowded in the dance floor. From the corner of my eyes I saw the boy, with his arms around his new girlfriend. He looked very much in love. I force a smile and dragged Kenta to the drink counter.

‘Cheers to the shit weather!’ I quipped.

‘Cheers to me getting laid tonight!’ Kenta responded.

Kenta was an interesting human. He is a massive party animal and narrowly meets the mark of a fuck boy, but he is also on the dean’s list and an awfully loyal friend. It has been a mystery to how this human exist. 

Naturally like bees are attracted to the pollen of sweet smelling flowers, girls flocked to Kenta. ‘Sorry girls, I have to ensure my bae here meets someone before I attend to my needs.’ He told the girls.

‘Fuck off Kenta! I am not planning to get laid! I didn’t even erm, shave.’ I whispered.

‘Too much information girl! Gross. But I’m sure we can find someone for you.’ Kenta half shouted to me with the booming music.

As the night went on and one too many cups of unknown alcohol, Kenta and I began obnoxiously pointing at potential mating partners for one another. 

‘Hey hey, Kenta, that girl in the dress one size too small looks like a suitable prey for you.’ I pointed out.

‘Hell nooooo. I heard she’s clingy as fuck. What about that obnoxiously loud dickhead chugging beer over there?’ Kenta teased. He knows I can’t stand being around chauvinistic dickheads for any longer than 5 minutes.

‘Yeahhhh sure.’ I laughed.

‘How about a bet. If you make out with Mr Dickhead, I will do your laundry for the rest of the year.’ Kenta proposed.

‘Including my undies?’ I asked.

‘Including your hideous granny panties gal!’ Kenta shouted as he raised his cup to me.

‘DEAL.’ I raised my cup to Kenta.

‘It’s just a kiss. I can probably just head over, pass off as a drunk slut, make out with him and walk off all within 5 minutes. Without even having to have a conversation with the dickhead.’ I snickered at Kenta’s flawed proposal. 

I took another shot before I headed towards Mr Dickhead who was soaking in all the attention from the people who just witness him beating some other dude at a beer chugging competition. I tapped Mr Dickhead on the shoulder and he turned around. He was handsome. Very handsome to be exact. In fact, there was something tender and vulnerable in his eyes. 

‘Fuck I am analysing wayyyy too much.’ I thought to myself as I grabbed the stranger by the neck and pulled him into a kiss.

The crowd cheered.

His lips are tender and plump. I moved my lips to pry open his. I had to make sure I was ‘making out’ and not just ‘a peck on his lips’. Kenta can be quite a sore loser when it comes to the fine prints. 

His tongue swiped across my lips before I could put my tongue in his mouth. ‘Classic dickheads’ I thought. Strangely, I enjoyed the way his tongue danced with mouth. His warmth was comforting, I was melting into the kiss. He pulled me closer by the waist and gently stroke the small of my back. ‘He smells much nicer than I thought he would.’ My brain was going into over drive. Time felt still. I quickly pulled away from the kiss and everything seemed to be in motion again.

‘That was very bold of you cutie.’ He smiled as his hands slipped away from the small of my back.

I missed his warmth. ‘He has a cute gummy smile and his eyes sparkled as they disappear into a smile.’ I thought to myself as I observed the stranger.

‘GIRL YOU ROCKKKKKK!’ I heard Kenta cheering as he linked arms with me and we became lost into the crowd. 

‘I can’t believe you actually did it notty girl!!’ Kenta teased.

I shot him a wink and picked up a new cup of unknown poison.

‘Now go find yourself some girl to fuck okay?’ I told Kenta.

‘Promise you’ll text me when you’re home?’ Kenta asked.

I nodded, raised my cup to him before walking over to hang around a bunch of acquaintances. I decided to stay a little longer since I was already out and the music was pretty lit. The poison in my cup pretty much took over and I was dancing and scream singing. I felt a hand ghost around my waist.

‘Hey cutie.’ The man whispered into my ears.

‘Yeah I am not interested.’I tried to walk away, only to have him grab me by my wrist.

‘Dude let go!’ I raised my voice as I tried to escape his grasp.

‘She said let go bruh.’ Somebody else was holding onto my wrist.

I squinted and tried to figure out who it was. The stroke lights and my intoxicated brain made it difficult.

‘Mr Dickhead! It’s you!!!’ I quipped.

‘I think you should be the one fucking off dude. She literally called you a dickhead.’ The man snickered.

‘It’s a term of endearment dumbass, did you not see me smooching him just now?! Do I need to show you again?!’ I yelled before falling into Mr Dickhead’s arm. Once again, I held onto his neck and brought him in for a kiss.

Time stood still once again. His warmth engulfed me. I felt safe. The security of his lips were broken when I felt someone tugging on me. It was the boy.

‘You’re drunk, let me send you home.’ He said matter-of-factly.

‘No. Go back to your girl.’ I answered coldly as I pulled Mr Dickhead away from the boy.

Without really thinking, I dragged Mr Dickhead out of the party with me. I was in no control of my emotions. Tears were spilling out of eyes and I was breaking down in front of some stranger I made out with. ‘Way to go girl’ I thought to myself.

‘Oh my god, I am so sorry. It’s just, ugh. I hate how weak I am. Ugh I...’ I was fumbling with my words.

‘It’s fine.’ Was all he said as he draped his jacket over my shoulders.

‘Why are you wearing a short skirt in such a weather even?’ He asked.

‘Because I did not want to look like a loser...’ I said between sobs.

‘Honey, you would easily still be one of the cutest girl in that party even if you came in your PJs...’ Mr Dickhead announced as he followed me along.

‘Really....?’ I sniffled.

‘Maybeeee not with all that dripping mascara and snot.’ He teased.

‘Shut up. I’m drunk, I get to be ugly!’ I whined.

‘Nobody would’ve believed you were the same girl who pulled me into an extremely sensual tongue twister just an hour ago.’ He teased again.

‘Do you have to make it so gross?!’ I tried to whack him on the chest only to have him hold me closer.

‘Shut up and just huddle up with me. You’re shivering like a hairless puppy!’ He ordered. 

I did not refuse.

The pavement was pretty much covered in snow by the time he had walked me to my apartment. Just as I was about to bid the stranger farewell, I received a notice on my trusty weather app. A hail storm was about to approach. 

‘Woah it sure is getting really cold, you should hurry upstairs snot monster.’ He quipped.

‘Erm... My weather app just announced that a hail storm is about to approach.’ I told him.

‘Well fuck... I live at the opposite end of campus... Guess I can probably try running back and pray hard my super fast reflexes will help me avoid getting struck by raining ice!’ He said in an animated manner as he cheekily jogged on the spot.

‘Do you wanna come up to my place at least until the hail clears?’ I asked.

‘My mum did tell me not to go home with strangers...’ He teased.

‘Fine, die in the hail storm then asshole!!!’ I was drunkenly offended and I threw his coat back at him.

‘Hold up feisty snot monster! I did not say I listen to my mother...!’ He half yelled as he ran along with me.

‘Just promise you won’t jump on me? I know I am pretty dashing, judging from how you threw yourself on me during the party not once but twice?’ He teased again.

Kenta was right, I could never deal with dickheads. But I have invited one home. Fuck my life.

‘Mention that again and you’re going home in the storm!’ I warned before I let the stranger into my house.

Text message from Kenta: ‘YA! ARE YOU HOME?! ITS ABOUT TO HAIL!!!’  

Me: ‘YESSSSS JUST GOT HOME THANK GOD.’

Kenta: “GOOD. THAT WAS ONE HOT KISS WITH MR DICKHEAD BTW.’

Me: ‘ERM ABOUT THAT... HE KINDA WALKED ME HOME AND I INVITED HIM UP BECAUSE I FELT BAD SINCE IT’S ABOUT TO HAIL...’

Kenta: ‘LOL YOU’RE SO GONNA FUCK MR DICKHEAD.’

‘Why did you call me Mr Dickhead?’ He asked.

‘Whaaa...t?’ I jumped and dropped my phone before I could reply Kenta.

‘In the club...? You called me Mr Dickhead? It hurts my feelings you know!’ He pouted dramatically.

‘That’s EXACTLY why you’re Mr Dickhead. Besides, didn’t you call me a snot monster!!’ I argued.

He was giggling at the expense of my annoyance. His eyes twinkled again.

‘Well snot monster... my name is...’ I cut him off before he could tell me his name.

‘Nope. I don’t need your name. You’ll become an acquaintance if we exchange names, and I am not keen of that.’ I answered.

‘So... I am suppose to call you the snot monster?’ He asked, amused.

‘Yes. I am snot monster and you are mr dickhead. And you leave the moment the hailing ends!’ I ordered.

‘You’re not a very friendly host you know that snot monster... I thought... you know... maybe we could cosy up in that bed of yours...’ He smirked as he moved closer to me.

‘DON’T YOU DARE. I HAVE A BLACK BELT IN TAEKWONDO I’M WARNING YOU!!!’ I jumped.

‘I’m kidding. Gosh. Uptight much snot monster?!’ He continue looking at me with a cheeky smile which got on my nerve. But at the same time, that cocky smirk was kinda enchanting.

‘Well help yourself to whatever you need. I’m heading to back. REMEMBER, if you try anything funny, I swear I will leave you crying for your mother.’ I warned as I threw him a blanket and pillow for the night.

‘Got it snot monster!’ He answered. He seemed to enjoy my annoyance way too much.

I guess that’s exactly why I don’t date dickheads.

‘Rise and shine snot monster!!!’ An increasingly cocky annoying sing-song voice was ringing in my ear.

‘Go awayyyyy~’ I whined.

‘You need to eat to nurse that hangover snot monster!’ He sounded more serious this time.

I sleepily opened my eyes to see a handsome stranger leaning on my door. He had a cheeky gummy smile and eyes that scream mischief. My head clicked and I recalled letting the guy I made out with on a dare with Kenta back to my place.

‘Why are you still here?’ I sleepily rubbed my eyes as I dragged myself out of bed.

‘Well... a snow storm followed after the hail storm and we’re pretty much stuck in the building...’ He answered matter-of-factly as he began chewing on the toast he had made.

‘Whaaaaat?’ I asked.

‘Check your trusty weather app if you don’t believe me!’ He said with his mouth full.

I ran back to my room and picked up my phone. He was right. And I was in shock.

‘Holy fuck!’ I gasp.

‘What? What?’ He came running with a slice of half eaten toast.

‘I look like shit.’ I looked at him.

‘Yeah you do.’ He laughed as he took another bite from his toast.

I had no argument for that. I had a massive bed head and my eyes were crusty. I did indeed look like shit. But strangely, I wasn’t too bothered by the fact that the strange handsome man I barely knew saw me in such a horrid state. In fact, it feels kind of natural.

‘Well fuck that shit. You said I would still be one of the cutest even if I were in my PJs didn’t you?’ I teased as I picked up a slice of toast for myself.

‘Yeah yeah yeah whatever.’ He said.

‘Do you really think so though?’ I asked.

‘What?’ He asked.

‘That I’ll still be cute even if I had went in my PJs..’ I said.

He nodded. ‘To be veryyyyy honest, you don’t look too shit right now either. Kinda cute actually.’ He quipped. His cheeky smile was plastered all over his face.

‘Do you have some strange fetish for unkempt girls or something?’ I asked, faced all crunched up.

‘If I do, I would have seduced you by now, snot monster!’ He shot me a wink.

‘Why does he ALWAYS have to be so annoying?!’ I wondered.

‘So... What do you wanna do snot monster. I knowwwww. How about netflix and chill?!’ He looked really excited, his eyes twinkled again.

‘Netflix and chill...?’ I asked, face darkened.

‘The literal netflix and chill dumbass. No way am I going to risk you bruising my beautiful face.’ He whined.

‘I’m glad you remembered.’ I looked at him, pretty proud of myself.

‘Also... erm your heater is broken.’ Mr Dickhead announced.

And so Mr Dickhead and I went on a Gossip Girl binge session huddled in winter gear.

‘Blair Waldorf  FTW!’ He cheered.

‘OMG IKR?! Everyone thinks Serena Van Der Woodsen carried the show, but she has honestly been nothing but a self centered whiny bitch the entire show?!’ I added.

‘Yeah! She comes and goes as she please, gives up a spot in Brown for some useless bratty reason and gets pissed with lonely boy when he decides to date Blair. Like girl.... you shouldn’t have broken up with him in the first place then?!?!’ Mr Dickhead quipped with sass.

It struck me out of a sudden. I was being a Serena to the boy. I left him heart broken, only to come running back when he moved on.

‘Why are you sulking snot monster? Did I said something wrong???’ He sounded concern.

‘It’s not you... remember the boy who offered to send me home last night? He’s my ex... We were really in love, but we grew apart and I broke it off with him after 4 years. I thought I had moved on, but my world came crashing when HE moved on... I’m such a Serena!’ I was sobbing now.

‘Hey hey. It’s okay...’ He said as he stumbled around to look for some tissues.

‘No it isn’t... I was selfish, and now I have lost my chance!’ I was a crying mess.

‘Look snot monster. Look at me.’ He said as he held onto my shoulders.

I looked up as I attempt to wipe away my never ending tears with my hands.

‘He’s not the one for you.’ He looked into my eyes as he tighten his grip on my shoulders.

‘How do you know?! You know nothing! You’re just saying it!’ I cried even harder.

‘I know. and you know why? Because you call him a boy.’ He said.

‘Boys don’t deserve a beautiful woman like you. A man does.’ He continued.

‘You actually didn’t sound too much like a dick for once Mr Dickhead.’ I giggled in between my sobs.

‘Ha. Ha. Ha. Very funny snot monster. Come here you.’ He pulled me into his arms as I continued sobbing.

For some reason, it felt so right. My body moulded into his perfectly. He did not seemed to mind some strange girl crying into his shirt. His warmth made me feel safe again. Suddenly the harsh winter seemed a lot more bearable.  

I woke up foggily, as I realised I was still in the arms of the familiar stranger. I tried to move a little to gain grounding of my situation.

‘Hey... You’re up?’ He whispered. He rubbed his eyes sleepily as we both set up; his warmth leaving me once again.

‘The storm has cleared but I figured all that crying must have left you exhausted since you fell asleep so soundly so I thought I shan’t disturb you.’ He explained.

‘Thanks...’ I smiled.

‘Well since you’re up and the weather has cleared, it’s probably time for me to go... My bunny must be starving by now.’ He announced.

‘WHAT?! You have a bunny in your dorm?! How??!!’ I asked, exasperated.

‘Well snot monster, there’s a lot this beautiful face can do.’ He shot me one of his annoyingly enchanting wink and smirk combo again.

‘Well thank you, for everything Mr Dickhead.’ I said as I walked him to the door.

‘Thank you for having me snot monster. I had fun.’He said, his smile seemed almost sad as he walked away.

‘WAIT! My name is...’ 

‘Let’s keep it this way snot monster. I’ll tell you my name the next time we meet!’ His eyes were twinkling again.

‘But... When will I see you again?’ I whispered to myself as the familiar stranger disappeared in sight. Suddenly the winter seemed kinda harsh again.

It was back to the usual grind again. School and lunch dates with Kenta.

‘So.... How was Mr Dickhead???’ Kenta quipped.

‘He’s....nice.’ I said, slightly smiling to myself.

‘Nice? That’s all? Wow he must really suck in bed.’ Kenta snickered.

‘What??? I did not sleep with him???!!!’ I smacked Kenta on his arm before I got up from my seat.

Being the perfectionist that I am, I had pretty stellar grades and I was part of a scholars program by the university. I was going for an exclusive scholars exchange program halfway across the globe. While it is kinda sad to leave Kenta behind, I was kinda glad that I was going away from the harsh winter and into the nice warm Sun. I pulled my scarf closer to myself once again as I scurried to the exchange’s meeting.

‘A very good afternoon to all scholars. It is a pleasure to have you here. Please take a seat and the briefing will begin shortly.’ The professor in charge announced.

I found myself a seat as I casually scanned the room. A familiar sight caught my attention. It was the same annoyingly charming smirk. It was Mr Dickhead across the room. I stared at him wide eyed as he waved. 

‘So as you should already know, all of you represent your majors in pairs and will be heading to our various partnered universities. Here are the names of your partners. Kindly find one another, and take a seat together as we continue with our briefing.

I scanned through the list and found my name along with a Kim Sanggyun.

‘Hey Snot Monster. We meet again!’ Mr Dickhead was all smiles again as he settled down in the seat next to me.

‘You’re Kim Sanggyun...?’ I asked.

‘Guilty as charged.’ He answered with the same cheeky smile.

‘I told you we would meet again didn’t I, Lee Do Hee sshi.’ His eyes twinkled.

‘How did you...?’ I asked.

‘I saw your notice lying on the coffee table the other day snot monster... Why do you look so shock? Surprised that a dickhead like me is a scholar?!’ He quipped.

‘Honestly... yes....’ I snickered.

And so Sanggyun and I travelled together, half way across the globe. I happily strutted out of the airport in my summer dress and sunnies. I took a deep breath, inhaling the summer air. 

‘Ready for the adventure of a lifetime snot monster?’ Sanggyun asked with the same cheeky smile I first spotted at the party.

‘Yes.’ I answered. 

(OH MY GOD. I AM FINALLY DONE. Okay this was quite difficult to write, because ‘boy’ is actually real. I have a super fluffy conclusion planned out, but I thought I’d see the response to this one first. So please show my story, Sanggyun and I some love plzzzzz. This is especially dedicated to all Kim Sanggyun-deprived fans out there!!!!! I sincerely hope sanggyun’s career will take off from JBJ onwards, he really deserves so much more?!)

[thelionshoarde]

If you still need prompts: Suzu and Shirayuki, the need for warmth and good company, and the mysterious disappearance of a bottle of wine?

Iiii got sick this last week and fell behind so this was rushed and probably shoddy, D: please forgive the errors and inconsistent characterization??

12 DAYS OF CHRISTMAS PROMPT-A-THON, DAY 4

Or you can read it here on ao3 if you prefer!

Shirayuki escaped through the balcony door, squeezing her way through the throng of merry-makers and out, gasping, into the sudden dark and quiet and empty space of a frozen night.

Icicles glittered in the dim glow of lanterns, of the stars, of the distant city lights. Relieved to be alone, Shirayuki moved toward the balustrade. Her breath clouded the air, and though the festive gown she wore was ill-suited to winter weather, the heat that flushed her from the crowded ballroom at Wilant Castle kept her from shivering.

A familiar, lethargic voice said, “I’ll have you know I claimed this balcony right from the get go. If you want sanctuary, it’s going to cost you.”

Startled, Shirayuki turned sharply to the side. Benches were set up along the wall, tucked between frosted topiary and hidden largely in shadow. Suzu looked out at her, sprawled comfortably in what looked like Obi’s new, velvet cape. He also appeared to have brought his work satchel with him, the bag slumped beneath his booted feet, oddly shaped and bulging in places.

“How long have you been out here?” she asked. “It’s nearly time for the -- the kissing, you know. I thought you wouldn’t want to miss out on that.”

Suzu waved a lazy hand, gloved in expensive kid skin. If Shirayuki remembered correctly Obi had taken him out shopping for the event, insisting that Suzu had to show up at Wilant Castle in something nicer than his work attire.

It seemed strange, for a moment; Suzu across from her in the cold, as if they were still pulling long hours at Lata’s and had stepped outside for a short break, talking idly and half-asleep as had been their habit, cooling off from the intense heat of their research. Over a year since then, Shirayuki realized with a start.

With their individual workloads at the Pharmacy, with Suzuri and Ryuu and Obi always about, it had been easy to fall back into familiar patterns. Ones where Shirayuki rarely saw Suzu alone. Her heart clenched, an uncomfortable burn, as she realized how much she missed it. Shirayuki had enjoyed his company, and it wasn’t until now she understood that, for some reason, Suzu in a crowd was never quite the same as Suzu alone.

“You look weird,” Suzu accused, rather than answer. “Like a -- a Lady.”

Then again, perhaps absence really did make the heart grow fonder.

“Sorry?” she asked, mouth pursed with irritation, “Should I go inside? I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“Eh? Oh, no,” Suzu said, sounding soft and distant, distracted. Shirayuki always forgot the oddity of him -- how he could give off such an air of apathy, and yet have the most direct, attentive gaze -- until his focus caught on her. “I was getting bored anyway.”

“Well,” Shirayuki smiled, crooked and uncertain. “Shall I sit, then?”

Suzu snuggled more firmly beneath Obi’s purloined cape, the crushed, royal blue velvet dark against his pale hair, long enough now to curl against his broad shoulders. “Sure,” he said, tilting his head to the empty stretch of bench beside him. “But I hope you brought your own blanket, I’m not sharing.”

* * *

A brief tugging war later, Shirayuki had the cape pulled over her front, huddled against Suzu in the bitter cold. “I suppose you’ll be wanting to eat my spoils as well,” Suzu sighed, reaching down to his satchel.

“Your -- your spoils?”

“Mm,” Suzu agreed, coming back up with two goblets full of bite sized cubes of cheese and little mince meat pies. Laughing, Shirayuki accepted the prize, flavors bursting against her tongue, the metal goblet biting through her thin silk gloves, Suzu muttering outrageous commentary about the looks he’d received as he piled his goblets high with appetizers.

* * *

“What about you? Not going to go on a kissing spree?”

Shirayuki felt the prickle of a blush in her cheeks, and kept her gaze on the distant stars. She had thought this would be the same as it had been in the past -- when she and Suzu had bowed their heads nearly touching over the olin maris seeds, the glittering crystals, and the heat, murmuring conjectures and frustrated oaths, close enough their breath mingled -- but it wasn’t.

It felt strange and new. Maybe it was because instead of needing the chill air to cool off, they were curled together for warmth. Or the way Shirayuki caught Suzu staring at her, only to have him look away a second too slow not to be obvious about it. Or perhaps it was because she knew what Yuzuri would say -- that dinner beneath the stars, the two of them alone, sounded like a date.

It wasn’t a date. And it was completely normal for them to be talking about kissing. It was Longest Night, after all.

“No, I --”

“Saving all your kisses for a special someone?”

“No,” Shirayuki protested, blush intensifying. “It’s only --”

“Oh.” Despairing, Shirayuki closed her eyes on the stars and tilted her head back against the stone as Suzu interrupted again. “I see. You’ve never been kissed?”

The blush flamed, burning her. “No!” she cried, shifting so she could glare at her fellow pharmacist. “I’ve -- I’ve been kissed! But I only -- well.” What dignity did she even have, here, faced with Suzu’s placid interrogation? For a moment she wished she could scoop up a palmful of snow and throw it in his face. “I’ve only been kissed by one person,” she admitted. “I don’t think I’m quite capable of -- of going around and kissing dozens, even if it is a tradition.”

The North was weird, she had long decided. Kissing wasn’t meant to be a group activity -- right? Nettled, she subsided, leaning back against the wall, head tilted back once more to take in the unfeeling, soothing sky. Only after she settled did she freeze, realizing that her shoulder was pressed to Suzu’s, that her thigh ran along the length of his.

“Who was it?”

Oh! Really. Even for Suzu, that seemed too prying. “None of your business,” she said, tone tart. Beneath the cloak she folded her arms, trying not to pay attention to the solid muscle of Suzu’s arm, a strength that usually went unnoticed.

“Hm, I’ll guess, then. Garrack?”

“That’s your fantasy,” Shirayuki claimed, startled into laughter.

Suzu hummed, sounding pleased. “That should be everybody’s fantasy. Okay, so not Garrak. Shidan?”

“Now you’re just being silly,” Shirayuki snorted, rolling her eyes.

For a moment she thought he was going to let it go. That he had gotten bored, or distracted, or simply satisfied his urge to -- to tease her. But then he asked, voice strange, “Obi, then.”

“W-what? No,” she said, brows furrowing. “Not Obi. It --”

Honestly, she may as well give in. Suzu was obsessive when he chose, and for some strange, unfathomable reason, he had chosen to obsess over this topic. Sighing, she admitted, “Zen. Zen’s the only person I’ve ever kissed.”

“Zen. The Second Prince of Clarines, Zen?”

“That would be the one,” Shirayuki muttered, plucking at the cape. The noise from within the ballroom lifted, loud with cheers, before subsiding back into a gentler, ambient noise of controlled, festive chaos. Maybe she should go back in, but --

She didn’t really want to.

“Huh,” said Suzu. “Well, can’t say I blame you. If he’s as pretty as his brother I wouldn’t say no to a kiss either.”

Shirayuki tucked the cape over her nose, groaning.

* * *

“Well, I think it’s time for drinking,” Suzu decided. “You wipe out the goblets, Shirayuki. I’ll get the wine.”

“The -- how much do you have in there, Suzu! Goodness.”

The cape fell from Shirayuki’s shoulders as Suzu leaned forward, and she shivered, but took advantage of the give to wipe clean the interior of both goblets. “Not much, really,” Suzu said, voice muffled. He grunted, tugging, and then came back upright abruptly, his hair a silvery sweep, like fine snow, that brushed against Shirayuki’s cheek. “Just enough for a quality evening, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” Shirayuki allowed, as Suzu worked the cork out of the bottle. It wasn’t one of the sparkling bottles served by the waiters inside, either, it was cloudy, a little dusty, a wax seal on one corner of the peeling label. Shirayuki felt realization dawn on her, slow and tinged with horror, but mostly amazement.

“Is that -- oh, oh my. Obi got in so much trouble for this!”

The bottle in Suzu’s hand was a very expensive wine that had been, allegedly, purloined from Lata’s house. Obi had been accused, Lata muttering indignantly that he knew Obi wasn’t a real knight. Suzu hummed, but Shirayuki recognized the smug amusement that deepened the corners of his mouth, an almost smile, as he said, “Care for a drink, Miss Court Pharmacist? It’d be a pity to let Obi’s theft go to waste.”

“Might as well,” Shirayuki said, trying to keep the laugh from her voice, and failing.

* * *

With the wine, a full belly, and company that Shirayuki found entirely too pleasing, she was warm despite the sharpness of the air stinging her nose. “I really am surprised you’re not inside,” she admitted, sipping at her second glass of wine. “Rubbing elbows with moneyed Lords and Ladies, and the like.”

“Mm, money would be nice,” Suzu sighed, sounding dreamy. “Think of all the research I could get done if I could only charm one of these rich nobles into funding me? Do you think I could convince Duchess Manaka to make me her sidepiece? She can lavish me in rewards for being so pretty.”

Shirayuki snorted. “I think I would have better luck with that.”

“Oh?” Suzu blinked at her. “Then perhaps I could be your sidepiece, and you can be Duchess Manaka’s. Share the wealth, Miss Court Pharmacist.”

Coloring slightly, Shirayuki looked away, prim. “Isn’t it time you stopped calling me that? We’ve been at Lyrias for two years now, you know.”

“I did notice,” Suzu admitted, voice dry. “But --”

The hesitation was enough to have Shirayuki turning back. Suzu wasn’t one for second guessing his words.

“Weren’t you planning on leaving us all behind and heading to Wilant to be Court Pharmacist?” There was a curious tilt to Suzu’s mouth, one Shirayuki didn’t know how to read.

“It’s not as though it’s far,” she whispered. “It’s not as though --”

“You’ll forget us, left behind amidst the dusty research shelves. Moving on to better, grander things.”

The way he said it -- a brittle quality hidden behind airy distance -- had Shirayuki’s heart hammering in her chest. Unease, or excitement; irritation and fondness. “I won’t,” she declared, catching Suzu’s gaze and holding it. “I would never. I cherish all of you too much. We’ve been through too much. You’ll always be my precious friends.”

“Friends,” Suzu murmured, head tilting toward her curiously. “I’m not your friend, Shirayuki.”

“I...what?”

Suzu took her goblet and his and set it on the ground at their feet, the cape rustling. Shirayuki caught the edge of it before it could quite escape and gripped it, hard, confused. She had thought -- but of course they were friends. How could he say something like that? Even Suzu couldn’t be so --

When Suzu turned back toward her, he was entirely too close, leaning over her in a way that pressed her back against the wall, that blocked the starry sky and seemed to muffle the sounds of the party carrying on inside. Hesitant, he tapped his fingers against her jaw, before withdrawing his hand.

“I don’t think,” he reasoned out of nowhere, “that kissing is that big of a deal.”

“What,” Shirayuki exhaled, starting to get annoyed, “is going on? What do you mean we’re not friends? I thought --”

“You should let me kiss you,” Suzu interjected.

It certainly interrupted Shirayuki’s irritation, her brain suddenly as still as the world in winter, quiet and frozen. He -- kissing. He wanted --

“I thought I looked -- weird,” Shirayuki whispered, oddly breathless. This close Suzu’s eyes were nearly too much, clear and bright as the moon on snow, staring at her as if he might take her apart just to see how she worked.

“I only meant,” he murmured, leaning closer. His gloved hand returned, more confident this time; firm, drawing her in. “That I prefer you as you usually are.”

“Oh.”

“Back to the kissing,” Suzu said, brows arching hopefully. “It really is a shame you’ve only been kissed by a prince. How are you to know what you like if your sample size is only that? We should rectify it. For science.”

Shirayuki’s breath was coming faster, little stuttering inhales and exhales. Suzu’s thigh was firm against hers beneath the cloak, a source of sizzling heat. “For -- ah, science?”

“Sure,” he said. “If you want it to be.”

She managed, just barely, to ask: “You would kiss someone who isn’t your friend?”

“I’d kiss anybody,” Suzu admitted. “And it’s -- you’re misunderstanding. I don’t feel about you the same way I feel about Yuzuri, or Obi. I don’t feel friendly with you.”

Licking her lips, Shirayuki felt hot, nervous. “Then... how do you feel? With me?”

An expression shifted across Suzu’s face, a tightness, a glimmer of sharp longing, that Shirayuki barely knew to recognize. But she did, and it caught her breath in her chest, made her hands tremble where they were clenched in velvet. Oh, she thought. So that’s what it means. That’s what I’ve been feeling.

“Lots of things,” Suzu said, lips brushing just barely against Shirayuki’s. “Awful, annoying, incessant things. I’m going to kiss you now, okay? For science.”

“Sure,” Shirayuki whispered. “If you want it to be. But you can -- you, uh --”

“Mm,” Suzu’s hand slid back into her hair, and her eyes fluttered shut. “I can what?”

How was he so obtuse, she wondered, but she couldn’t get angry. It wasn’t as though she had done much better. Words felt too awkward, her emotions spinning, wild, as everything she had thought she understood revealed new meaning. As Suzu gained new meaning. And --

Annoyed at her own idiocy, Shirayuki opened her eyes, angled her head, and kissed him in the moonlight, in the cold and the dark, while the crowds inside danced and cheered, passed kisses like favors amongst the throngs. Suzu kissed her like a question, a curious, hungry glide of lips and tongue, a nip of teeth; and he kissed her like an answer, a humming moan as he pressed into her, the greedy clench of his fingers tangled in her hair.

Even through their finery she could feel his heart beat fit to burst from his chest, matching the erratic, hungry, startled pace of her own.

When he pulled back, dragging in air, his eyes searched hers, brows quirking. “In case you’re still confused: I’m out here because the only one I want to kiss anymore is you, you know.”

“Yes,” Shirayuki gasped, flushed and embarrassed, confused but pleased. “I -- sort of gathered. Uhm. Shall we -- ah, would you like --”

“Yep,” Suzu agreed, and dipped down to kiss her again.