#they'll bloom. yeah

[noxtivagus]

lilies r really special to me huh

[carewyncromwell]

“You can paint me any color,

And I can be your clown,

But you ain’t got my number --

No, you can’t pin me down!”

~“Can’t Pin Me Down” by Marina and the Diamonds

x~x~x~x

includes references to Adelia Selwyn @thatravenpuffwitch; Atticus Grimsley and Montelimar Bloom @cursebreakerfarrier; Orla Atkinson @nightmaresart; Io Gordon @drinkyoursoupbitch; and Siyana Devonshire @dat-silvers-girl! 💚

x~x~x~x

Aesop Sharp was not a man completely devoid of patience. One truly couldn’t hope to teach anyone -- or even to stay sane, dealing with students like Garreth Weasley on the regular -- if they didn’t have a little of it. But when it came to dealing with fifth year Slytherin Jackson Knightly, Sharp found himself incredibly frustrated.

Jackson had been a late arrival to Potions class when he arrived at Hogwarts for his second year, just like one of Sharp’s personal favorite students, fellow Slytherin Adelia Selwyn. Unlike his best friend, though, Jackson was not at all attuned to Potions. Not only was he enough of a troublemaker that he was perfectly willing to smuggle ingredients to the likes of Garreth Weasley on a whim, he very frequently neglected to take brews off the fire before they exploded or forgot crucial steps in the middle of brewing. Sharp would frequently remind Jackson to stop daydreaming in class (which he was very prone to do), but rather than it snapping the boy back to any sort of attention or making him reflect on doing better, he would almost inevitably lose focus again, not long after Sharp moved on. And the last thing Aesop Sharp wanted to be was a bloody nanny.

When Sharp spoke to his colleague and Slytherin’s Head of House, Abraham Ronen, about his frustrations, Ronen merely laughed.

“Ah, Aesop,” he said jovially, “you have not taught students as long as I have. Young Jackson’s behavior is truly nothing out of the ordinary. Many a student has found themselves more able to focus on those things they have personal investment in over those things that don’t spark their imagination. I would think a fellow Slytherin alumnus such as yourself would be very attuned to that.”

“I am already very well aware of how much Mr. Knightly prefers your teaching style to mine,” said Sharp very coolly. “He is definitely your kind of student. But I am not about to start playing Gobstones with bottles of Shrinking Solution just to try to earn a single student’s favor -- and Mr. Knightly should learn to see the value in all of his classes, however lacking of entertainment he may find them to be.”

Ronen gave Sharp a pat to the shoulder. “Of course. It behooves him, and all of our students, to learn how to work well with a wide array of people. But you know, even we professors need to re-learn that too, once in a while...sometimes through students we find challenging to teach.”

A flicker of amusement seemed to dance in the older man’s eye.

“You say Jackson is my kind of student -- and yes, for certain he is. Talented, amiable, excitable, curious...incredibly witty, and yet surprisingly sensitive -- I’d say Eleazar and Madam Kogawa are just as fond of the boy as I am, and they’re not even his Head of House! But truly, I think you might find Jackson’s a very promising student in his own way...perhaps even in your class. Why, if even Atticus Grimsley can find it in his heart to like Jackson as a student, despite all the trouble he gets up to outside of class, surely you could.”

Sharp was skeptical of this thought process until the day following the invigorating Quidditch match between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor that spring. The Potionsmaster himself had not been present at the Pitch -- he’d had much more pressing matters to research in the Hogwarts library -- but he heard the school matron, Noreen Blainey, complaining to Ronen about it the following morning at breakfast.

“ -- poor boy got that hexed Bludger straight to the face, Professor! It broke his nose in five places! And yet he’s absolutely refused to come to me for treatment!”

“Jackson seems to be doing better now, Madam,” Ronen tried to soothe her, but she wasn’t having any of it.

“Only because he’s off brewing his own Wiggenweld Potions to mask the damage! He barely avoided getting knocked unconscious! That damage undoubtedly went below the surface. And yet somehow Mr. Knightly managed to slip right out from under everyone in the stands before they could send him to me, polished himself up, and now he’s cheerfully acting like he’s fine, despite barely being able to see straight!”

Ronen frowned. “Hm...perhaps I can convince Jackson to get a full physical exam. I’m certain if we emphasize our concern for his well-being -- ”

“Concern!” scoffed the nurse. “Unlikely! That boy wouldn’t even come to me for help when he got burned by Streeler venom, Professor. He’s almost as stubborn as Aesop Sharp, when it comes to accepting professional Healing advice...”

Sharp couldn’t help but cock his eyebrows very coolly at that, but ultimately chose not to join the conversation. It had made some gears turn in his head as it was, so he decided to dwell on the matter alone over breakfast.

Jackson Knightly brewing his own Wiggenweld Potions? Now that seemed thoroughly unlikely. Knightly had never been so competent to brew a potion he could safely ingest without proper oversight. It had to have been Miss Selwyn who helped him with it -- or perhaps Montelimar Bloom: the Ravenclaw did have a tendency to come to Jackson’s rescue, when he was in trouble. Even Bloom’s best friend Orla Atkinson was well known at being talented with healing magic...

Sharp’s eyes flitted over to the Slytherin table absently. He could see Adelia Selwyn and Jackson’s dormmates, Ominis Gaunt and Sebastian Sallow, sitting there -- even Gryffindor’s Beater, Io Gordon, had apparently left her own table to go over and talk to Adelia -- but no Jackson Knightly...

His left eyebrow raising with interest, Sharp sidled to his feet carefully, before trudging out of the Great Hall and back toward the stairs leading down to the dungeons.

Blasted leg, Sharp cursed inwardly. His lack of agility would never not irritate the ex-Auror -- he would’ve loved it if he could just Apparate up and down to different floors without climbing so many damned stairs, but the magic within the school’s walls was far too powerful to allow for that.

Eventually, though, Sharp did make it back to his classroom -- and as soon as he arrived, his sharp ears immediately perked up when he picked out the distinctive sound of something bubbling in a cauldron. 

Well, that could easily end in disaster, being attempted by the wrong student.

The image of Garreth Weasley blowing up his third potion that month rippled over Sharp’s mind.

Reflecting back on his old stealth training, the ex-Auror sidled into the classroom as quietly as he possibly could with his clunky leg, easing the door open so carefully that it didn’t give the slightest creak. When his eyes landed on the workstation being used, however, Sharp was a bit startled by what he found.

It was indeed Jackson Knightly. But rather than being in the company of someone helping him, he was working completely on his own, his back to Sharp as he counted out three -- four -- five lionfish spines, and then dropped them one by one into the cauldron. He kept glancing at the potion off-and-on, humming something absently, as he poured himself a cup of tea from a nearby teapot and mixed in some sugar. Once the potion had turned yellow, he tossed in five more spines, as well as some flobberworm mucus. Then Jackson sipped his tea, still humming absently, as he watched the potion turn purple.

Sharp stood in the door frame, his arms crossed, as he silently watched Jackson work. The Slytherin was in his own little world during the entire process -- eating toast, drinking tea, and even reading out of a tiny book that couldn’t possibly be for Potions while waiting for certain reactions to take place -- but he still did every step perfectly, all seemingly from memory. There were definitely points, though, where Jackson had to pause in the middle, close his eyes, and massage his temple as he took deep breaths -- clearly his head was still hurting him.

Sharp didn’t make himself known until Jackson took the potion off the fire at last. Once the potion had started to cool, he actually brought his hands together in a slow clap.

Jackson looked up, startled, as Sharp approached.

“A perfectly brewed Wiggenweld Potion,” said the Potionsmaster.

Despite being taken aback by his sudden audience, Jackson very quickly put on a big grin and gave a sweeping bow.

“To earn a ‘perfect’ assessment from you is high praise indeed, Master Sharp,” the fifteen-year-old said with a dashing smirk. 

“Indeed,” Sharp said airily. “I would hardly have believed it of you, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes.”

The professor’s brows were raised high over his eyes as he considered Jackson a bit more carefully. There wasn’t any cosmetic damage to his face -- but true to what the school matron had said, Jackson’s blue eyes looked slightly unfocused and lacking of light. That lack of consciousness was something Sharp recognized immediately as indicative of a mild head injury.

“...You should take a seat,” Sharp said lowly. “Ingesting anything is best done in a seated position.”

Jackson gave a laugh. “Not when one is drinking one of these on the Dueling Field! My dear Lala -- Orla Atkinson, you know -- she gets competitive enough as it is. If I took the time to sit down and have fairy cakes with my potions, I reckon I’d have to ingest even more of both, once she was done with me!”

The brown-haired boy acted as flippant as ever as he wandered around the table to fetch his teacup. He played off the slight stumble in his step, as well as the slight clumsiness to his settling himself down on the edge of his workstation. Carefully ladling some of his finished potion out of his cauldron and into his half-finished tea, he then gave a long sip from the cup, exhaling lowly as he lowered the ladle and rubbed his temple. Then he plastered a smile back on as he addressed Sharp.

“Would you care for some tea yourself, Professor?” asked Jackson politely. “I borrowed the recipe from my sweetest little unicorn, Miss Devonshire, and it really is sublime...”

“No, thank you,” said Sharp.

“Oh, come now!” Jackson egged him on. “It’s still early morning -- I would think a cup of masala chai would be a good way to start the day off right.”

Sharp cocked an eyebrow. “Perhaps it would -- if it were being enjoyed in the Great Hall, with the rest of one’s breakfast. But you seem to have neglected that.”

Jackson shrugged.

“Wasn’t feeling quite my best,” he said offhandedly. “But no matter -- I’ll be feeling right as rain, with a bit more of this -- ”

He ladled some more of the Wiggenweld Potion into his teacup. Sharp’s lips knit together.

“It might take a stronger potion than that to deal with the aftermaths of a concussion, young man.”

Jackson’s smile flickered ever-so-slightly as Sharp sidled clumsily across the room over to his desk.

“Oh, it -- it’s not nearly as bad as all that,” said Jackson, trying to keep the smile on despite how weak it suddenly seemed. He put down his teacup on the tray at his workstation. “I’ve dealt with far worse than this. Broken bones, glass embedded in my feet, Streeler venom...even got thrown head-first into a stone wall once, and I’m still standing! Dare I say, perhaps better than ever!”

His mouth spread into a brighter white smile. The Slytherin boy’s voice strangely didn’t come across as arrogant or blustering, however -- instead, it seemed almost reassuring: as if he wanted to comfort his professor so he wouldn’t worry.

Sharp, however, was blunt in his response.

“You may dispense with the pretenses, Knightly -- you’re not as good of an actor as you think you are.”

Jackson actually couldn’t help but pout at this.

“Bad form, sir,” he said rather coolly. “Insult my potionmaking, by all means, but to insult my performance ability overall? That is supremely ungentlemanly.”

Sharp actually couldn’t bite back a small smirk of his own. “I have been called worse things.”

Once he eased himself down in his chair, Sharp rested his hands on his desk, clasping them together as he regarded Jackson with a more serious expression.

“...You seem to know this particular brew quite well, to recall all of the steps from memory.”

The professor’s eyes flitted down to the book left open at Jackson’s station. As he’d thought, it wasn’t a book of Potions notes -- it instead seemed to be a book of poetry, judging by the few words he could make out upside down.

Jackson gave another shrug and offhand smile. “Well, as they say, practice makes perfect.”

“Indeed -- for you to brew it so well, it’s clear you’ve practiced quite frequently. Undoubtedly out of a necessity for it.”

Jackson’s dashing white smile became a bit cheekier. “What can I say? Trouble is a friend I run into quite often.”

“I’m well aware,” said Sharp coolly.

He paused. Then, after a moment, he said stridently,

“For the injury you’ve sustained, however, I do not think a Wiggenweld Potion alone would heal the damage.”

Jackson opened his mouth as if to speak, but Sharp cut him off.

“And since it’s rather obvious that you don’t wish a Healer’s input on what treatment would be suitable...allow me to, at the very least, give you some advice on what potion would be a better solution.”

The Potions professor eased himself up and out of his chair, awkwardly stomping over to his own station at the head of the class.

“Follow me,” he said brusquely.

Startled, Jackson got to his feet. He was frozen for only a moment, before he’d hurriedly rushed over to walk right alongside Sharp like a shadow. When Sharp reached his station, Jackson’s focus was abruptly drawn to the other side of the room.

“Your attention, please, Kn -- ”

Before Sharp could finish, though, Jackson had flung out his hand, and in an instant, the closest stool had glided across the room and into his open hands.

Sharp’s mouth was left slightly open, as Jackson brought the stool right up behind his professor with a smile.

“Here, sir,” he said, his charming face betraying some genuine kindness. “Allow me.”

Sharp stared down at the fifteen-year-old boy. Then he very quickly cleared his throat.

“...Ahem -- yes. Thank you.”

He sat down on the stool. Jackson then summoned one wandlessly for himself and positioned it next to Sharp’s.

“How long have you been able to summon things without a wand?” asked Sharp.

Jackson smiled brightly. “Quite a while, actually -- since I was ten, at least. Maybe even nine. I was right on the cusp when I first learned I had magic, you see. I’m not quite as good at wandless Charms as I am with Transfiguration, though -- conjuring flowers and doves is what I did most, in those days...”

Sharp’s eyebrows were rather high as he took this in.

“I know it can be kind of dangerous, to not use a wand to channel your magic,” Jackson said amiably. “Professor Weasley’s warned me of that, a few times, what with the risk of becoming an Obscurus and all. But...well, I was solely among Muggles, back then. Didn’t exactly have the means to go out and buy myself a proper wand, let alone any spellbooks. Truth be told, I....didn’t even own a wand until I returned to Britain, in time for my second year at Hogwarts. And truly, I am very fond of my wand -- she’s a most lovely thing. I just sometimes fall back on old habits.”

Wandless magic at only nine years old? Not only that, but wandless conjuration -- one of the most difficult branches of Transfiguration, largely set aside for students approaching the NEWT level? Despite himself, Sharp was actually rather impressed.

“...Hm. Well...if you can muster up the proper attention span, you could always speak to Professor Onai about such things. Uagadou is well known for teaching its students the art of wandless magic.”

Sharp turned to his station.

“Now, then -- watch closely. This brew is called the Syrup of Asphodel. It’s actually rather simple in its ingredients, but you will have to grind the asphodel root down to a fine powder and mix everything in just the right order, for it to be effective...”

Sharp stopped talking and set to work straight away. In the beginning, he could sense Jackson watching him -- before long, though, the boy once again seemed to drift off, his eyes gliding away toward the far corner of the room.

“Pay attention, Knightly,” said Sharp. “I don’t intend to demonstrate this twice.”

“My apologies, sir,” said Jackson.

Despite this, though, his blue eyes once again were drawn to the unfinished tea service at his station.

“...Sir?”

“What is it?”

“Are you quite sure you wouldn’t like a cup of tea? I should think the potionmaking process would be a lot more enjoyable, if one partook in some tea in the midst of it...”

“I’m in no need of distractions, Mr. Knightly,” said Sharp airily, “and truthfully, neither are you. You get distracted enough in my class without adding a pot of tea to the mix.”

Jackson frowned slightly.

“Perhaps...” he granted. “But you said yourself that I brewed a perfect Wiggenweld Potion, while I was indulging in just such a cup of tea. And reading some lovely poems, for that matter.”

Sharp paused in his work to glance at Jackson out the side of his eye. The fifteen-year-old had taken out his wand and used it to levitate the tea service a bit more gently over to a table closer by.

“Forgive my impertinence, Professor,” said the Slytherin teenager as he got up and started fussing with his tea set, while still glancing over his shoulder toward Sharp at his station, “but for me, such ‘distractions’ as you call them are not a hindrance. My mind is prone to wander, as you know -- ”

Sharp gave a low, amused snort at the gross understatement.

“ -- but one thing that prevents that, for me, is constant action,” Jackson pressed on, unabashed. “Channeling my energy into physical activity -- even if it’s simply indulging in a cup of tea or parsing through works of Edgar Allan Poe -- ”

He summoned the book of poetry over to him with another wave of his wand, opening it to a certain page and perusing it before he returned his focus to Sharp’s station again.

“ -- I suppose it anchors me in the here and now, as it were. It gives me a reason to stay here, on the ground -- multiple reasons, in fact, all of which interest me. Whereas such austere silence -- complete stillness and undivided focus...it makes my mind restless. Like a dog being asked to walk around on two legs. It feels unnatural -- makes me prone to twitch about, just to try to get comfortable. And sooner or later, whoosh -- off I go toward a more exciting daydream, and all focus is gone.”

Massaging his sore temple a bit more with one hand, Jackson nonetheless beamed over his shoulder at Sharp.

“I confess -- it saddens me greatly that I lose my focus so easily in your class. You do so seem to love your subject.”

“How kind,” Sharp said coolly. With a tired sigh, he said, “Very well. I shall continue my work on this potion, while you do whatever you feel you must, to stay engaged. But as I said, I have no intention of demonstrating this twice -- so if your method of ‘anchoring’ yourself proves ineffective in helping you internalize my lesson, then that’s solely on your own head.”

Jackson grinned. “Understood, sir.”

And so Sharp continued brewing his potion. As he did, he could once again feel Jackson’s eyes on him, though rather intermittently, since the boy was also rifling through the book of poems, cleaning out spare potion bottles with his wand, and brewing a fresh pot of tea as he watched. At some points, Jackson even asked questions -- good ones, to Sharp’s surprise.

“When doubling such a recipe, would one simply double the ingredients, or just the amount of salt water? If one considers the potential for asphodel poisoning.”

“You would add a pinch more root for every three drops of salt water,” Sharp answered.

“And the best way to safely amplify the potion’s effects?”

“Add a half cup of dittany. It’s a resilient enough plant to not curdle in the face of asphodel when mixed in, and yet it’s soothing enough to not actively conflict with its effects.”

Jackson looked thoughtful. “Hm...would a pinch of ginger not conflict? Ginger’s supposed to be good for one’s digestion -- it might help make the tonic a bit more palatable.”

Sharp glanced back at Jackson over his shoulder with some interest.

“...Not a bad suggestion,” he said.

After a few minutes, Sharp finished off the potion and began to empty the contents of his cauldron into a vial. As he did, Jackson dropped off the second of the cups of tea he’d poured out down on Sharp's desk, not far away from the station he was working at.

“Here you are, sir,” he said politely.

“And there you are,” Sharp said crisply. With the potion vial full, he held it out for Jackson to take. “Syrup of Asphodel -- made up of nothing but salt water and, as one can expect, powdered root of asphodel. Do you remember how many drops of salt water one requires?”

“Three per dosage,” Jackson said promptly.

“And how many times did I stir this potion?” asked Sharp, as he lumbered back over to his desk.

Jackson considered this. He seemed to be counting in his own head.

“Let’s see...once when I sat down, twice before I lost focus -- three when I did. Four after I summoned the tray -- five, six...seven when I reread Lenore -- eight, nine...nine, yes, I believe it was nine?”

“Correct,” said Sharp. He placed his hand down on the desk so as to ease himself down into his chair. “Clockwise or counterclockwise?”

Jackson’s eyes drifted up toward the ceiling thoughtfully. “...All clockwise except for the first and last two.”

“Very good,” said Sharp, and indeed, he did sound rather pleased. “It seems there truly is a method to get you to pay attention to my lessons.”

Jackson grinned that bit more mischievously. “Glad to hear you’ll be more indulgent of me inviting my friend Lord Byron to class with me in the future, Professor!”

“Don’t push your luck,” Sharp said airily. “I’m still not thoroughly convinced this wasn’t some sort of practical joke on your part.”

His impish grin spreading that bit more, Jackson brought the vial up to his lips and downed its contents. Within seconds, he shuddered, but the breath he exhaled was full to the brim with relief and relaxation.

“...Ahhh...” he sighed happily as he brought a hand up to his forehead. “Oh, that does feel better...”

Sharp nodded in satisfaction. “Good to hear it.”

Jackson washed the potion down with the rest of his tea before turning to Sharp with a visibly more relaxed smile.

“Thank you for your time, sir,” he said. “And your lesson -- they’re both greatly appreciated.”

“You’re welcome,” said Sharp. “Now don’t you have some other lessons to get to? One thing I’ve learned is that however poor one’s health may be, one can’t easily justify not going to class, if he intends to not rest in the Hospital Wing.”

Jackson laughed. “No, I jolly well suppose not.”

Sharp indicated the door with a nod of his head. “Off you go, then.”

As Jackson made as if to go, though, he paused in the door frame and looked back with an odd, almost compassionate expression.

“...Sir, I really think you should try the chai,” he said gently. “Miss Devonshire recommended it to me for pain relief. Muggle remedy it might be...I would think it still might soothe some of the pain in your leg.”

Sharp paused. His dark eyes flitted down to the cup of tea in front of him to back up at the kindly boy in his door frame.

Then, very slowly, the Potions professor’s gaze seemed to lose some of its edge. It made his features look much less critical than before, though no less discerning.

“...Mm. I see.”

Sharp gave Jackson a muted incline of his head.

“...Thank you.”

Jackson’s face spread into a bright, charming white grin as he swept out of the room and back up the stairs at a run. Sharp himself also found himself smirking ever-so-slightly once he’d disappeared from view.

Jackson Knightly was certainly not his type of student -- but, Sharp had to admit as he picked up the cup of masala chai and silently enjoyed the soothing scent and taste of the brew -- he was a promising one, all the same. So long as he actually applied himself properly.

[jemichi90]

Me and my mother have really gotten into windowsill gardening this year - mostly because of the ever rising cost of food. But I also planted something that’s special to me for another reason. These three were red geranium seeds that I planted exactly one month ago. The photo on the left is from before my trip, and on the right it’s after the trip - just a bit over a week later. I planted three seeds just because I wasn’t sure if they’d all sprout, but they did. The small one was unlucky and had some trouble. I wasn’t sure if it would survive (which made me realize how fitting it is that three of them sprouted), but after some support it’s still growing - even if slowly.

They’ve all come a long way from this:

[akchually]

.

[parlerenfleurs]

Genuinely confused as to how one could enjoy this GO season. No shade, obviously, it's awesome that it made people happy, but... It's just so badly done, in my eyes (unless Ariaste's unified theory or something similar proves true). I'm confused.

I did enjoy Aziraphale, Michael Sheen can only ever be a pleasure to watch, him and his lovely smiles.

But... Maggie?? If this is people's notion of a cute lesbian romance then I'll be over there with the freaks, because she gave me the eebie-jeebies with her attitude, and it should have annoyed Nina tremendously, or she should have been annoyed at Nina's attitude and left her alone from the start.

I prefer my creepy romances to be intentionally creepy.

[bunnyhugs77]

Driven 2 U

Pairing: Rich! Reader x Mechanic! Jungkook

Word Count: 5.2k

Notes: am i back from the dead??

Content Warning: reader is a bit spoiled but she can't help it!, ft manager! yoongi, jk is so whipped, fluff, car troubles, reader is a bad driver, kissing, witty jk, some smut, pining, mentionsn of ex boyfriends, dirty hands, flowers, reader is a bit oblivious, mention of death, jungkook is delusional just like us.

Other Content: making out, late-night rendezvous, choking, semi-public sex, they're both so desperate, marking, soft dom! jk, light hair pulling, oral sex (f! receiving), cute conversations in between, praise.

The sun beamed down gently between the spaces of the clouds that littered the otherwise bright blue sky. Your Chanel sunglasses framed your face perfectly and your arm rested on the ledge of the window as you steered with the other. The air was sweeter, the flowers were in full bloom and the grass seemed greener.

The world always seemed so much more colourful when you had a hair appointment ahead of you. "I swear this is your third hair appointment this month." Yerin's voice rings through your aux, judgy as always, but you love her for it. She's been your best friend since you could walk, if anyone was gonna call you out it was gonna be her--it could only be her. You didn't listen to anyone else.

Especially not your overprotective dad, who kept nagging you to get your engine checked since that little light kept flashing at you. You didn't see the point. You thought of yourself as a pretty good driver even though all of your passengers often fled the moment you parked, swearing to never get in a car with you again, but they always came back.

"Yeah? What's your point? These roots aren't gonna touch up themselves." Your car began to jolt, "Uhh-" You trailed off, looking down to your dashboard and scanning for a source of the issue, "What?" Yerin asks and you quickly begin to lose speed. \

Turning on your four-ways you begin to pull over on the side of the road, "My engine light is flashing red and there's smoke coming out from my hood, is that bad?" Yerin doesn't say anything, there's silence in the car until she exhales, "You need to take your car to a mechanic like yesterday."

"-But I can't take it to Wheely's, that's where Jae used to take me whenever my car needed work." This time Yerin made sure you could hear her distress with an extra long sigh, "You guys broke up almost 6 months ago, I doubt they remember you. It's not like they'll refuse service because you broke up with one of their customers."

"Okay fine. You're lucky it's close, I'll just drive-" Before your hand could even make contact with the clutch, you're interrupted by a shout, "Do not even think about moving that car, Y/n. You'll completely kill the engine. Just call a tow truck. As a matter of fact, I'll call one for you."

That brings you to where you are right now. The passenger seat of a high-rimmed tow truck with a rugged driver. He seemed miserable to you at first, hooking your car up with a lot of grunts and 'tsks' slipping through clenched teeth until he really looked at you, eyes looking you up then down, taking in your very wealthy attire.

Suddenly small talk and friendly conversation were being made. With a rocky abruption, you bounced in your seat as the truck pulled into the back alley of the shop where there were lots of other damaged cars sitting around.

You thanked him and tipped him one hundred dollars. You clearly had no general comprehension of the value of a dollar, not when it comes to tipping at least.

You stood off to the side of the open garage, against the wall, waiting for the driver to come back after he'd gone inside to notify the mechanics that your car would need to be manually rolled in.

"You're still rolling in this piece of junk, Scooter?" A voice catches your attention two more men walk out of the garage alongside the driver. It seems the driver was known as Scooter around here though you doubt that's his real name.

"Hey, you better watch it, ol'Ruby here may be a bit aged but she's got character." Scooter taps the hood of the rusty pick-up truck while the two men stand in front of him with their arms crossed, one with mint hair and the other with dark locks; both of their backs facing you, yet to notice you were standing there.

"A bit aged? I'm certain Julius Cesar could identify it." The mint-haired man jokes and the brunette laughs while Scooter rolls his eyes.

Scooter waves you over, cueing the two men to look over their shoulders, a bit shocked they hadn't noticed you standing there earlier. "This is Yoongi and Jungkook, they'll be overseeing your repairs." They finally turned and Yoongi hardly got a full glance at you before his gaze was fixated on the man beside him who couldn't look away.

Unsure if your mind was playing tricks on you but you're fairly certain you'd seen them both before. Maybe not for long as you'd only ever been at the mechanics for a few short moments while Jae dropped off your car and switched into his.

Eyes wide and alert, you resembled a deer in headlights, unable to hold the soft gaze that was being sent your way. "Don't worry, you're in good hands," Yoongi reassures while Scooter gets back in his truck and pulls out.

"We need to roll it in, Jungkook and I are going to push from behind the car. Do you mind getting in the front and just steering to make sure to aim for the inside of the garage? Try to get it between the two pylons." Yoongie points into the garage where there are two markers a few meters apart.

Agreeing, you're just about to get back into the front seat when your phone rings. Both men were already in position, strong arms bracing the trunk and hunched over slightly, legs split apart, ready to bear the force back into the ground with each push, but you answered the phone instead.

Yoongi's brow arched while Jungkook just watched you.

"Y/n speaking."

It was your hairdresser, calling to see if you were still on your way as expected. Your heart sunk, you'd nearly forgotten ever since your car committed suicide and then Yerin was yelling at you.

"I'm so sorry- my car broke down and--" The boys listen intently, nosey as always. It wasn't often they had someone so interesting stroll into their quarters in the middle of the week.

"Yes, I know you're very busy and I would never want to waste your time--" You start but she interrupts you again. "No! Please don't put me on the waitlist I'll be there. I'm coming!" Hastily you get into the driver's seat and steer it in with the guys pushing behind you.

You got out nervously panicking, scrolling through all your contacts for someone to give you a ride. "Something wrong?" Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to ask, even though he knew the answer.

"I have a hair appointment and she'd booked through for the next three months and if I'm not there in the next 15 minutes she's giving my spot away." Jungkook just stood there, while Yoongi worked on elevating the car.

Not a thought behind his eyes at your worries. You were in your own world for that to be your biggest concern but he tried to understand. "Why not get a Lyft?"

"Ew," Your hand clasps over your mouth almost immediately. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean that--or to offend you-" Now Jungkook seemed taken aback, "Why would that offend me?" Your mouth gapes open like a fish before finally shutting.

"I'm just saying, the choice is yours. You can either get a Lyft or call the b-b-bus." He puts on a horrified expression as he chops up the last word to get it through to you. The result on your face was priceless.

"How about you give me a ride? I'll pay you." He stills, straightening his posture while his brows contorted, evidently confused. Even though Yoongi was on the opposite side of the car, crouched down on one knee, he too was confused. That wasn't an option. Jungkook is in full uniform, on the clock.

Does he get ahead of himself sometimes? Yes. The kid's got a big heart but he's not crazy, there's no way he would- "I'll get my keys." Yoongi lets his head fall in disappointment.

Jungkook led you around the back of the building then outside to the lot where he was parked and you turned to him blankly. "Which one is yours?" He unlocks the car as an answer, the headlights flashing at you. Quick on your heels you pivot to face him.

"This is your car?" Your acrylic points to the grey polished, sleek sports car that had the two doors opening on their own. "Not too shabby for the working class, huh?" He quips and you swat at his arm.

"I already said I was sorry about the Lyft thing, will you just let it go already? He snorts at how flustered you're getting, "Already? That was literally 60 seconds ago." You pout and get into the car, avoiding any further conversation.

His car smelled good, like really good. You found yourself taking deeper breaths than usual. It was hard to describe the smell but if you tried you would describe it as a bold yet comforting aroma, it almost reminded you of a man's cologne but mixed with the fresh scent of smoked leather. Sweet but musky.

"Leave some air for me." Jungkook jokes and your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets, he pulls out of the lot and heads for the address you gave him. "Just hurry up." You slouch back into the seat hoping the chair would consume you.

"You do realize you're basically in a Lyft right now." Jungkook points out as the ending revs and the car accelerates, cutting up traffic, one hand on the wheel and the other out the window, just like you.

You ignored how attractive his driving was and zeroed in on the topic at hand. "No, this is different. I personally hired you, for the next..." You lean forward to see the GPS and the remaining time to your location, "6 minutes, you're my personal chauffeur." He just had to laugh, all those times he saw you with Jae, he'd always wondered what you'd be like.

He never would've guessed you be so full of...you. But it would be one hell of a lie if he said it didn't add to your appeal. He was no longer in dangerous waters, no no. The moment he accepted your proposition, he'd thrown himself into shark-infested waves with a pressuring current, destined to pull him to the bottom.

Jungkook pulled up to the side of the salon and you hurried got out. "Thank you, Jungkook. I really appreciate it; oh and take care of my car!" You smile from outside the window looking in, about to leave when you reach for your phone and hand it to him.

His heart leaps from his chest. That's it? So easy? He lags for a moment, staring at your arm that was outstretched to him. "So you can tell me when my car is ready."

Oh.

"OH. Yeah. Of course." he enters in his information before handing it back to you, and the sight of your bouncy steps in your high heels and sunglasses is the last he sees of you before he makes his way back to the shop.

-

Walking into the garage he picks up an oil cloth that he knows he'll need soon. Startled, Jungkook's hand grabs his chest as Yoongi pops up from behind the car, the opened trunk shielding him from sight before. Grease-covered hands and stained attire are what he notices before his displeased expression.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't get in the front seat and back this car over you." He threatens, not a smile in sight except for the big one that spreads across Jungkook's apologetic face. "Because I'll work overtime for a week, unpaid."

Yoongi taps the wrench in his palm, thinking about it. "You were on the clock, Jeon. Make it two."

"Deal."

The two round the car to the open hood to get a better look at the engine. "Was it at least worth it? I know you've had your eyes on her since she first came in with that guy like two years ago."

"She's funny and she's beautiful. It's so over for me." Yoongi chuckles, reaching his hand into the hood, and starting the repairs. "Just ask her out, I don't see what the big deal is." He shrugs and Jungkook's head slowly turns, "This could be the love of my life, Yoongi. One wrong move and I lose my one chance, all my greatest dreams and aspirations-" Yoongi playfully closes the hood on Jungkooks fingers to shut him up.

"Alright Shakespeare, now help me get this engine out."

--

A week goes by when you are flipping through a magazine, 'What's the perfect job for you' the letters read and surprise surprise you got a model. You smiled as you placed the magazine back down on the craft services table as the photographer called you over to the center to resume the shoot.

This was for the cover of Serpahine, thankfully you weren't as nervous this time around as you were three years ago when it was your first time.

You'd been in the modelling world for a few years now, you got into it on a whim not expecting to really go anywhere with it, but the people loved you. You were only 19 when you went to your first shoot for a local retail store, fast forward six years and you'd actually driven past a billboard with your face on it this morning.

Once the shoot was done you finally reconnected with your beloved phone and saw there was a message from an unsaved number. "Your car is ready for pick up." Ah, finally.

You were sick of carpooling and hiring drivers this week, all you wanted was to finally get back behind the wheel of your own car.

The evening hadn't escaped you just yet. The sun was still out but slowly setting and casting an orange hue as you got out of the car in front of Wheeley's and dismissed them.

You could already see Jungkook from where you stood outside of the garage. Leant over the hood of another car, sleeves rolled up and tattoos on display. Just when he couldn't get any hotter.

You knocked on the wall, not sure if you could enter. He looks up with a glance before doing an immediate double take and stands to his full height. He welcomes you with a soft smile and gestures you over.

You approached him slowly, the last thing you wanted was to eat shit and land on the greasy floors in front of him.

The closer you got, the more intense his gaze became, "Wow, you look amazing." Jungkook compliments almost speechless. It was like you'd gotten even prettier from the last time he'd seen you.

Instinctively, you play with the chain of your white gold orchid necklace. It was just something you did when you were flattered or shy, in this case, a bit of both.

"Ahem." Neither of you had any idea where Yoongi had come from but he spawned and reminded Jungkook to stay focused before he vanished back into his office.

"Right. So. We assessed the damage to your engine, and the overheating engine caused the gasket to blow, causing the coolant and the oil to start mixing which is very bad." You could tell he was dumbing down the words for you and you had to stop yourself from chewing on your lower lip as he talked.

He's so hot when he talks about cars and stuff. "Are you following?" What? You thought you were doing such a good job of listening. He continued to explain what had been done and import fees and blah blah blah.

You weren't listening to a damn thing he was saying and Jungkook could tell. If he was being honest, he was hardly listening to himself, brain so warped on the fact that this was probably the last time he'd see you for a long time.

He walked you over to the register, "With the coverage you get from guardian auto insurance it reduces your initial price from 2,785.61 to 875.50." You blinked, guardian auto insurance. You had no memory of buying that, which is why you assumed your dad did and thank god for that.

Not that you couldn't afford the initial price but who would want to spend money on boring car stuff when they could go shopping? You paid and then remembered something.

"Here's your tip, for the Lyft." You smile handing him a hundred-dollar bill and he just smiles, not reaching for the money. "Aren't you gonna take it?" He shakes his head. "The car did all the work, all I did was steer. Besides, if I were you, I'd consider putting my money towards a better car."

Your hand falters, and you pout. "What's wrong with my Magma GRT?"

"I hate to say it, but this is the worst car money can buy. I see about three of these every week. For starters, the engineering of it is shit, it makes our job ten times harder. Not to mention it was wired by preschoolers, the batteries are cheap and I can guarantee you, your transmission is gonna blow sometime in the next year."

You stood there, jaw dropped.

"That's not true." You argue, feeling defensive over your sweet baby.

Jungkook guides you over to the hood of the car he had just been working on. "I'll take everything back if you can show me where the engine is."

You stood there for a solid minute, really giving it hard thought. "It's right here." You hold up the middle finger in front of his face before walking away and he laughs taking long strides to catch up to your furious pace.

"Where is my car, anyway?" Jungkook leads you around the back where the completed cars sit with a ticket on the windshield. He watched you excitedly hop into the driver's seat and run your hands over the wheel, then touching the fuzzy orchids that hung from your mirror.

You started it up and she sounded better than ever. You got out and fought the urge to do a little dance but you lost. It was cute, adorable really. "Thank you!" Without even thinking you placed a quick peck on his cheek before you returned to your car, honking at him twice before you sped off.

His fingers lightly grazed the cheek your lips had just met. His vision started to blur, he was about to faint. And then the doom settled in his stomach, you were gone.

--

"Let's take 5 everyone. Y/n, a minute." The head photographer calls you over. "What's going on? You seem out of it, and you can't be out of it. Not until this shoot is done, at least. I've got bills to pay too."

It's been a few weeks since you'd gotten your car fixed but now everything else felt broken. Suddenly a new outfit didn't put a smile on your face, and the buzz you got from a night out at the bar didn't compare to the flames you felt with the few moments you had with that pretty mechanic.

You shake away the thoughts and apologize, reassuring him that you'd get your head back in the game.

--

It's been a month.

He hasn't texted you, which isn't crazy considering you gave him your number for repair purposes only. Though it did make you sad to know he ignored the resource he had to contact you. Then again the phone did work both ways.

You were spiralling, just a tad.

Besides, you didn't want to text him, you needed to see him, but you can't just show up to a mechanic for no reason...

You paced around your room until your gaze landed on your car keys.

You shake your head.

No.

That's crazy.

You grab the keys anyway.

After a quick Google search, you concluded that this evening you would be making an impromptu trip to the gas station. Your tank holds about 30 liters so you pumped it with 35.

Once you got back in the car, just as Google said, your check engine light was on. At least this time it wasn't red.

"Oh no, looks like I've gotta get a check-up."

-

You pulled onto the lot with a mischievous grin, you weren't sure how you were going to pull this off but you had to.

Parking outside the open garage, you locked the car before walking in, looking around for any signs of anyone but it was empty--

"Back so soon?" You turn, face to face with the same face you'd been wanting to see for weeks. "Well yeah, I-"

The loud engine of that familiar tow truck came roaring up the driveway. A loud horn caught your attention. "Come on Jeon, roadside call ain't gonna solve itself!" Scooter shouts and Jungkook visibly gulps, looking between the two of you with a panicked gaze.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. Yoongi is in his office, he can help you."

Your shoulders slumped and your pout was prominent. Let this be the first and last time you ever stuck your neck out for a man.

-

A few days had passed when Jungkook sent you the invoice for your repairs. Your eyes analyzed the familiar statement of reduction showing that Guardian Auto Insurance saved you another 600 dollars.

You sighed.

You completed the transaction online and made sure to avoid him at all costs when you picked up your car. Unable to face him after he had blown you off. Even though you know it wasn't intentional, it was still humiliating.

The following weeks may not have been anything special for you but were most certainly eventful for Yerin. "I warned you not to dance on top of that bar." You joke as you walk Yerin out of the emergency room with a slight hangover while she has a cast on her left arm.

After driving her back to her place, not a silent ride at that, even on three different pain killers she was still whining about this curb and that curb, 'watch out for that pedestrian' she would yell as if you didn't have eyes.

"How am I supposed to get to work tomorrow." She sulks, resting her cast on a nearby couch cushion. "I can take you." You offer and she glares, "I guess I wasn't clear. I need to make it in one piece." You rolled your eyes.

"I'll just take my car, driving with one hand can't be that hard." She shrugs.

"It's not, but you're not left-handed. It's a bad idea." You warn but she is more stubborn than you are.

-

It was only around 10 am the following morning when you received a message from Yerin. She attached an image of her car, it looked normal aside from the missing side mirror.

Oh boy.

'I told you so.' You send her and she replies with a middle finger.

'Now it's your turn to go to Wheeley's and make sure to use your guardian auto insurance. Saves a ton.'

She gives you a thumbs up.

Talking about that shop made your mind wander. You wonder how Jungkook was doing. It's been a while since you last saw him. Sometimes you regret not sticking around for him to come back, or even avoiding him to pick up your car.

But maybe this was for the best.

Besides, you were just a customer. One of many. You're sure he's forgotten all about you.

-

Your phone buzzes once, then twice, pulling you out of the realm of peace and tranquillity that your nap had rolled you into. You'd fallen asleep on the couch while reruns of your favourite movie passed by on your screen. "Hello?"

"Guardian Auto Insurance my ass. I was charged $450. I asked Yoongi to double check and he said apparently that doesn't even exist." Slowly sitting up, you try to make sense of it.

How's that possible? If it doesn't exist then who made it up?-

Oh shit.

You quickly finish the call with Yerin, and check the time. The shop would close in about an hour, you had little time to get ready before you made your way there.

Pulling into the driveway so late at night made your headlights seem like spotlights, bouncing off every reflective surface in sight. Catching Jungkook's attention as he wasn't expecting anyone this late at night.

In his fitted jumpsuit, he watched the car pull up closer to the garage, shining the bright light in his face until the engine was shut off. He'd seen this car hundreds of times. He couldn't get his hopes up, but the second your red bottoms hit the concrete his heart was pounding.

You were headed right towards him.

You looked angry- no, upset, no-

"When were you gonna tell me that there's really no Guardian Auto Insurance and that you've been covering 80% of my costs out of your own pocket?" You definitely sounded angry but your gaze seemed... soft.

You stopped right in front of him, face to face. Your breathing was heavy and your brows furrowed as your eyes danced between both of his deep brown, apologetic ones. "I-"

"Just shut up." Grabbing a gentle hold of his cheeks in your hands, you pulled his lips down to meet yours. It took Jungkook a second to process what was going on but once his brain caught up, so did his hands.

He held you securely at the waist, tugging you into him until your front was against his and he worked his tongue with yours. Your heads tilted slightly to deepen the kiss.

You always knew he'd be a great kisser, but this was taking your breath away. Literally. You pulled away from him, lungs reaching for a much-needed dose of oxygen while Jungkook did the same. His gaze was much darker.

"You and this stupid uniform. I want to finally see what's underneath-" Reaching for his buttons, you're able to get the first four undone with a few stray kisses to his neck that send Jungkook absolutely reeling. A soft moan escapes him before he pulls back.

"Wait. Wait, I have something for you." He disappears into one of the offices before coming back with a bouquet of orchids. Your gasp is genuine.

"Yoongi said a friend of yours was in the shop earlier and I'd already been thinking about you non-stop so I just took it as a sign to reach out. I was actually going to bring these to you later once the shop closed. I noticed you had orchids on your necklace and in your car so I just thought you'd like them." You give them a sniff. "I love them. They were actually my mom's favourite flower before she passed."

He frowns, "I'm sorry to hear that," you give him a sad smile, "Thank you, it means a lot. Really. But we can talk about that later," You place the flowers behind you on the trunk of the car. Jungkook grins.

"You're very direct aren't you." You shrug. "You'll get used to it."

He walks up to you, looking down at you with the six inches his head carried over yours. "Oh, will I?" You nod with unwavering confidence. "Unless you can't handle it-" A big, gentle hand is placed around your neck, no pressure applied until he speaks, "I'm not the one who needs to be worried about."

With that said he slowly sinks himself to his knees, big hands reaching under your ruffled skirt, taking two handfuls of your ass and giving it a firm squeeze. You gasp as you feel him slowly drag a finger along the soaked fabric of your panties.

"Please, Jungkook." The harmonious sound of you begging rattled him to his core. With no self-restraint, he would do anything you asked. "Don't worry princess, I've got you. Gonna take good care of you." he pulls down the only thing keeping him from your soaked cunt and a low growl rumbles in his chest at the sight.

He helps you to step out of your panties with your heels still on, he couldn't let your bare feet touch the floors. You open your hand for the garment but you roll your eyes at the sight of him pocketing them in his uniform. You already know you'll never see them again and you accept it.

He has you bunch up your skirt around your waist for better sight. Smoothly he places one leg over his shoulder while your body rests against the trunk of the car. The grip he holds on your left thigh is tight enough to make your brain spin and surely marks will follow.

"See. I always knew I'd have you on your knees for me one d-AY. Oh fuck!" Jungkook can't be bothered to bark back at you not when he has an insatiable appetite and a full meal right in front of him.

His jaw worked itself as he lapped up at your center. Tongue long and warm, licking every square inch of you until you couldn't take it, hands reaching desperately for his hair and he groaned.

Once he finally had you where he wanted you, reduced to nothing but begs and whimpers, he allowed his tongue to flick over your clit repeatedly, until he felt half of your body weight fall onto his right shoulder for a moment.

You could hardly even keep yourself up. He was going to make sure you remembered this. "Oh shit! P-please Jungkook. M'So close." He groans, his right hand pressing down on the solid bulge in his pants for a little relief.

Your slick was running down his chin, some even down the sides of his neck as he worked you with his tongue. Writhing nonstop, though this wouldn't be an issue if he had a better environment. He'd have you pinned and unable to run from him.

To finish you off he let his teeth graze so lightly over your clit, you almost wouldn't feel it had he not heightened your senses to such an extreme with his intricate pussy eating.

You came with his name falling off your lips.

Your face turns beet red as he tells you to look down at the mess you made on the ground below you. "What were you saying earlier? Something about me being on my knees for you-"

"Just fuck me already." Jungkook stands back up to his full height, clicking his tongue with tsk' sounds. "I pay for your repairs, I buy you flowers, I make you cum and this is how you talk to me? Where are your manners." Jungkook adjusts your skirt so it's back in place and he picks you up to sit on the trunk.

"Besides. I'm not fucking you in here. I wanna take you out first." You smile at that, "Finally, a smile." He remarks, and your body limps forward naturally, your arms wrapping around his neck while your head settles in the crook of his neck and your eyes flutter shut. You ignore his previous statement until he whispers in your ears. "You do realize the garage was open this whole time, and anyone who drove by got a front-row show?" Your eyes shoot open.

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Daryl was frantic as he opened the cell door. "C'mon. We gotta go now. 'M gettin' ya outta here," he said. He was puzzled as you stayed huddled on the floor at the back of the cell. "C'mon. S'okay. I'mma make sure yer safe."

You continued to just stare at him with wide eyes. "Daryl—No. You can't," you replied.

His brow furrowed. Confusion washed over his face. "What? Yeah, I can. Ya ain't stayin' in here any longer. Look what they've already done t'ya," he said, his eyes flickering over the smears of dried blood on your skin and the blooming purple bruises. His chest felt hollow and achy. His heart raced with rage. He crossed the cell toward you, glancing over his shoulder again to make sure none of the Reapers were heading your way. He started to untie the ropes binding your wrists and ankles but you jerked away from him, glassy tears in your eyes.

"No! Please! If they know you helped me, they—they'll hurt you too! Please. I can't let you get hurt. Who knows what they'd do if—" you broke off and your eyes darted toward the door as a sound rattled down the hallway. Footsteps were soon audible in the distance.

Daryl swore under his breath, glancing up the long hallway. He looked back at you and cupped your face with one hand. "Nah. S'my job to worry 'bout that. I will get ya outta here. Alrigh'? I ain't lettin' 'em keep doin' this to ya. I promise."

Prompt: "Please! If they know you helped me, they—they'll hurt you too! Please. I can't let you get hurt."

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Musician Age Gap AU pt 2

Kara blinks, suddenly dumbstruck. Esme's t-shirt didn't do the woman justice. Her eyes catch briefly on a sharp jawline before being captivated by warm green eyes.

"Uhm, sorry, I-- I didn't mean..." Kara struggles with her words in a way she hasn't in years. "Are you--?"

"Yup," Lena confirms with a drawl, but her smile doesn't leave her lips. "Do I need to call security?"

"What? No! No, of course not, I didn't mean to barge-- I swear I wasn't looking for you."

Lena accepts the blithering answer at face value. "Good. It would be to have you thrown out before the show."

Sure enough, underneath her gray zip up hoodie Kara spies a flash of a silver bedazzled dress.

"I mean. For the record, you should." As soon as she says it, Kara picks up steam, suddenly angry on the artist's behalf. "I shouldn't have been able to get anywhere close to you---"

"It's okay," Lena assures her. "You don't look the type to be looking for an autograph."

Kara huffs, but finds a small smile creeping over her face. "No," she confirms. "I got lost."

One of Lena's eyebrows lifts.

"Well, first I got locked in the stairwell. Which is against code, by the way. And *then* I got lost."

Lena smirks, picking up her phone and typing out a short message. "Security," she explains.

"Oh."

"They'll be able to help you find your way better than I can."

Relief floods Kara, and then a thrill of excitement when Lena's smile broadens to a grin.

"You here with someone?"

Kara nods. "My goddaughter, Esme. She, uh.... she loves you. Rather a lot, actually."

"Tell her hi for me."

"I will-- oh! Shit, you've got a signal down here!" Kara fumbles her phone and her ticket, and in her rush to fire off a note to Esme promising to be there soon, doesn't notice when the ticket slips from her palm.

"Sorry," Kara rambles. "Damn. She's probably eaten all the nachos by now."

At that, Lena laughs, just as a hulking figure appears in the doorway behind Kara. "Yes, ma'am?"

"Hi Ryan," Lena greets, voice still full of mirth. "Miss, uh..."

"Danvers. Kara Danvers," Kara blurts.

"Miss Kara Danvers here got a little turned around. Would you mind showing her to where she needs to go?"

"Of course, ma'am."

Lena nods approvingly. When her gaze returns to Kara, Kara can't help but notice the brief glance that flicks over her, and the consequent blush that blooms in the younger woman's cheeks.

"I've got fifteen until places," Lena tells her. Her voice is smooth and low, velvet in the cinderblock room. "I'm sorry we can't chat more, but I'm sure Esme is worried about you."

Kara nods, swallowing. "Right. Um... thank you."

"My pleasure." Lena's crinkle at the corners. "Lovely to meet you."

"You too," Kara issues, turning to follow Ryan out the door and into the hall. It's not until the door shuts behind them that Kara realizes how hard her heart is thumping, or the tremble in her fingers.

"Jesus," she mutters, giving her hand a shake.

"Which level, Miss Danvers?"

"Second mezzanine, restrooms near the food vendors."

Ryan escorts her until Kara spots Esme, at which point he departs with her thanks. Esme dashes towards her, eyes wide. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Kara promises, giving her a hug. "Just got turned around. Sorry for taking so long."

"Come on!" Esme urges, already moving on from the subject. "We've got to get to our seats!"

Kara trails closely behind her goddaughter as they move towards the stands, but her thoughts remain with the raven haired woman two flights below.

Maybe tonight would be special after all.

[youwerethedefeated]

Ok brief run down of kagehina sightings in the light novels for @infinitemilk

Right off the bat in volume 1 chapter 1, we have Hinata daydreaming about having a picnic with kageyama underneath a beautiful sakura tree in full bloom. Yep with the pink flowers falling around romantically, they're sharing food and laughing together etc.

The "he chose the Olympics over me" also comes from there, though I'd say that's the least gay thing to happen in that chapter. (It's volume 12, chapter 1 if I'm not mistaken.) Prior to that, Hinata also complains that "Kageyama never tells me anything" and that if they're partners, shouldn't be included in that kind of decision making? (Yeah just like that)

This is the same chapter where yachi goes on on her (paraphrasing) "they're not friends not lovers but a secret, worse third thing" rant: "more like a fork and knife, or the minute hand and the hour hand of a clock. Even when there's no conversation between them, they still continue to move with the same purpose"

This same chapter, hinata continues bitching about kageyama joining a pro team/the JNT and ditching him the whole time lmao

There are a few chapters during the summer training camp that show Hinata pestering everyone to compete with him because Kageyama wasn't talking to him - at some point lev asks "why don't you compete with your partner" and hinata is like "Oh we're taking a break" (yeah just like THAT)

When they do start training together again they're both so happy about it.....

There's a chapter (that I never found translated in full) that's that one scene where Hinata messages kageyama on new years day, and kageyama gets "fluttering feelings at the bottom of his stomach." My dude be out here getting literal butterflies in his belly JUST FROM A TEXT and then he proceeds to get mad at hinata for making him feel this way 😭

Later on when they meet anyway, Hinata says he wanted to go to the shrine with kageyama and that even if they go now, it won't be the same bc then it's not "his first time" anymore.....

And the star of the show. The Grand King in Rio.

This one takes the crown for not only being the gayest, but also perhaps the most plot relevant. It's just about that time Hinata and Oikawa met in Rio.

Inevitably, they talk a bit about Kageyama, and oikawa starts downright TEASING hinata over him like... asking if they'll meet for the Olympics and stuff.

And then hinata starts spiraling because a) he's not at a point where he can meet kageyama as an equal, b) he can't remember Kageyama's face, c) he tries so hard to remember "that terrifying face" that he gives himself a tummy ache ksjhdkaldm

In the end hinata arrives at the conclusion that he and Kageyama don't need to meet now, since he isn't ready, and he recalls the promise he made to Kageyama, and how it's such a coincidence that he met Oikawa all the across the globe, and it was also a coincidence that he met Kageyama in the first place, but if life is made of coincidences then it's inevitable that they'll meet again someday... the rest is super poetic, really

ANYWAY this is it from the top of my head. I think @kagehiner might have more anecdotes since he was the one who got me into the LNs in the first place lol

[kalims]

sugar

flushed — when you fluster them and how they act.

do you want a 'kiss' — not an actual kiss, the chocolate.

falling (asleep) — you fall asleep on their shoulder.

w/ malleus draconia

commissioned by paru !

flushed — when you fluster them and how they act.

typically if it was anyone else, they'd have a really hard time to gauge out a reaction from malleus when the most they'll get is probably a barely evident crease, or raise in his brows.

in this case tis our very lovely mc who malleus is very much already on the ground from how fast he fell. you could do just about anything, give him a rock or something, and he’ll thank you eternally and keep it in a room above the most eccentric gifts he's ever gotten.

(god forbid if sebek ever enters, and sees some random rock on a pedestal meanwhile his gifts for the master is just.. there on some table like malleus didn't even think twice to leave it there then worship that rock!)

^ well thankfully, out of respect. sebek believes that someone like him simply is not privileged enough to enter the room of his esteemed master.

anything remotely affectionate from you would definitely send malleus to cloud nine for the whole day, he's practically emitting comical hearts every second you're together. they're trailing after him as he's following you around.

so you have a variety of choices! a heartfelt compliment, a hug, maybe even a kiss. whatever you choose will only feed on the overflowing glass that's called; 'malleus' love for mc'. trust me if you think he's like 67% in love with you, you're WRONG.

it's actually 101% and it's still increasing I swear 😭 

well the glass I was talking about is probably overflowing right now, and it's also probably going to start drowning everyone.

as in… everyone's just stuck to witness malleus' insanely endearing reactions to your shenanigans. should they be scared that malleus would probably do it in a heartbeat if you asked to take over the world??

yeah they should tbh.

in this case, I believe a close hug then a whisper in his ears would really make that arrow hit straight to his heart. you can't just whisper 'doritos' though! /j but you shall instead proclaim your love for him instead with a single 'I love you'.

it's funny to see his face completely freeze. you can practically hear his brain absolutely blowing up. there's a wobbly grin stretching across his face, the tip of his ears turn a shade of pink.

he looks… shy, but oddly pleased.

hellour congratulations malleus will not stop till you're both bound for life 💀 trust me he won't take anyone else if it isn't you anymore. he loves you THAT much.

malleus is not aware of the feeling blooming in his chest, it's foreign. he could even describe it as addictive. he's clueless really, but what he's sure of is that he wonders if you'd feel that too if he did the same to you.

oh well.. you've exposed him to such a euphoric feeling. it's only natural for him to return the favor. 

so honestly just expect him to be the rizzlord for the rest of your existence, he's rizzing you up every chance he can get. and the fact that most of it is just him not trying at all, and just being himself.

which is also funny cause when he does try to 'charm' you it ends up in fail.

like who let him bring you the 'rewards of his hunt' as a courting offering.

and when he tries to recite a letter he wrote for you, it's very endearing, and flattering but he's been talking for quite a long time now and you're concerned.

do you want a 'kiss' — not an actual kiss, the chocolate.

*malleus holding a big ass bowl* yes pls

^ but that's if he knows it's chocolate, and still wants the legit kiss. in a way that's the amount he'd want if it was the real deal.

not that he does know! cause malleus isn't exactly educated in the chocolate culture. as horrifying as it sounds, i doubt he snacks on chocolate in his free time.

I guess he didn't have much time to be a child :(.

he's tasted it before though! but knowing specific brands doesn't really cross his mind. for malleus chocolate is just chocolate. 

so he definitely doesn't know that there's a brand of chocolate called kisses.

so when you ask him if he wants a kiss he's like: yes. IMMEDIATELY. 

ok maybe not immediately but he gives you this certain look, and when he registers your silence at his face he realizes that you're being serious. 

malleus rn: well I mean ur offering so 

WHEN DID HE EVEN FINISH EATING A MINT CANDY.

jokes aside it's almost sad to think how he'll react when it's in fact, not a kiss.

when you pull out some kind of thing wrapped around in some kind of foil and place it inside malleus' palm he's just confused. where are his kisses?? why are you giving him this thing??

malleus spots the 'kisses' label on it and blanks.

oh.. so that's what you meant.

okay he's happy to receive anything from you but that's foul play!

but he really likes you so he won't comment on it 😞 you didn't even elaborate so it's partially his fault for jumping into conclusions.

no one can explain, not even you when there's a visible aura radiating off malleus. something gloomy, and he won't tell you even if you point out that you've noticed him constantly glancing at your face.

well your lips but you also don't know that.

falling (asleep) — you fall asleep on their shoulder.

would refuse to move at all.

first of all, he's honored that you trust him this much to lower your guard, and fall asleep on him. malleus is aware, sorta. he doesn't stop talking but instead slows down his words.

he doesn't want to wake you up, does he?

so he just settles on rambling in hopes that even in your dreams, his voice would reach you. you'd dream of him day, and night.

but when he's done malleus makes very little movement, hyper aware that you've fallen asleep on him. so when he finally assumes a position most comfortable for you, (plus one where he wouldn't crane his neck too much to peer at you) and he just stares.

he's done this plenty of times when you were awake so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. maybe it's because he sees you awake every time, and when you were, he could see the slightest bit of exhaustion present in your eyes.

this way he can be at peace knowing you are.

he recalls your certain features, he'd love to just gaze into your eyes right now and see himself in it but the fact that he can feel all your weight on him is better than anything he's ever felt before. 

cold, rainy days in nrc are just a blessing from grace.

but you now just discover that rain here is a lot stronger than your local pour back at home. to make everything worse, you had no idea it was gonna rain this hard, and if you did you wouldn't have taken the time to visit the city on a sunday.

now you're stuck waiting under a cover outside a shop. your patience honestly starting to run thin. from your legs sincerely, you're immensely thankful for the random bench under it cause you're sure they would have been quaking from the amount of time you spent waiting.

but you do like the weather, cold weather is rare to see when the sunny days reign over many.

you should have brought a jacket or something.

"child of man?"

you blink when malleus tilts his head at you, a thin smile playing upon his lips. his shoulders seem to ease up at the sight of you. your eyes fly above him, weirdly enough it's like there's some invisible force protecting malleus from the weather so he's completely dry.

albeit weakly, you still make an effort to give him a half hearted wave. 

of which he notes.

malleus makes his way over to you, and your beloved bench you had started acquainting yourself with. "may I?" he gestures beside you, and you take that as an initiative to move over.

he takes a seat next to you right after.

"how are you faring?" his eyes crinkle, he stares deeply into you. 

you chuckle. "well I'm stuck here for a while I guess. I already miss my bed,"

the man beside you raises his brow before lightly raising his shoulder, leaning towards you a little for emphasis but you're sure that's just another excuse to take up more of your space.

you get what he's implying in a second. "oh no, no," you shake your head. that would be… embarrassing. 

but your yawn betrays you, and malleus easily coaxes you into using his shoulder. with or without your will, you can't even remember what happened until you blearily open your eyes, and realize the rain has passed by.

when you wake up you feel like you've had the best sleep in your life. but you're sure you would have frozen to death by now.

your hands feel the fabric between your fingers, previously taken over your shoulders. ah.

… as well as a pair of eyes staining into your existence.

wc. 1.5k

[teacute]

❝ hc: they have a crush on s/o ❞ — knights + 2wink

character(s) ! knights / 2wink / gn! reader [separate] warning ! nothing.. just floof... i mean fluff note ! i proofread the whole thing, might miss some typos or incorrect facts by mistake.. that's all.. also a reposted work of mine from my watty and pardon my editing skill

- he'll try to find s/o anywhere he could since he felt all bubbly everytime he's staying near them, he wanted to know what is he feeling - upon finding them, he'll probably jumped and called out for the whole world to hear - "s/o !! there you are, my inspiration !! my muse !!~" - they were confused so much, ended up standing there and looking weirdly at leo - still smiles sweetly at him - again, he felt the bubbly feeling inside him - leo felt content only looking and staying by their side - believe me, he'll never stop being by s/o side— not until he finds out what he's feeling

- he knew it the first time he felt it— believe me, he'll still teases s/o and say bad thing; it's his nature after all (i love him sm slapped) - maybe he'll either confess or not - your choice - but his life is not the same anymore; he's acting weird - his tsundere is showing too much - fellow knights member noticed the change - except for the person themself - sena can't help but always say something to them and sometimes, accidently made s/o cry - cue the knights members being angry at him - he's having a hard time since he knew he has a crush on them

- this beauty here !! darling is so sweet - always gives affection to s/o - but when naru had a crush on them, love and affection everywhere overloads - somehow the love and affections being showered on s/o was not an odd thing anymore - they were basically being oblivious as naru-chan tried to show her love to them - damn too sweet is all i see - i can describe no more //kisses her cheeks

- sleep, huggies and desserts - he asks s/o to join him in short naps - they were was shocked but obliged - he uses their laps as his pillow - "i think i have a crush on you..." - he blurted out - they were confused but they got the message - would even spend more time with him if asked - since their feeling is mutual towards him too

- this baby boy here doesn't know how to act around his producer anymore - he'll stumble upon his words - s/o laughs at his cuteness - they'll play and spoil him nonstop - kasa got fumes running out of his ears while red tinted his cheeks - "p-producer!! please stop!!" - no, they won't stop - his crush for them bloom until one day he had the courage to tell them - "producer, can i call you [name]?" - bewilderment covered their face - they understood why he asked that and they teased him afterward

- he's mischievous - will probably pull pranks to make s/o notice him - troubles - yuta will only sigh in the background - "yuta-kun, hinata-kun is acting weird..." - he'll get complaints from s/o since they felt uncomfortable by his sudden change - hinata said sorry and showered them with nonstop sweets due to his sweet tooth - found this side of him is cute - slowly, they got closer and damn - hinata was proud of himself - cue yuta watching from afar silently supporting his brother

- this boy here may be having a problem when he knew he has a crush on s/o - since he's the opposite of his brother, who's filled with mischief all the time– yuta tends to get in trouble with having a crush on s/o - totally - he's a sweet baby (everyone is idc) - yuta would would be seen snooping around looking at s/o - "s/o, are you alright?" - he once found them moody and he brightened their day with spicy food - but they loved it and appreciated the kind gesture - probably hinata got jealous over the affection his brother gave to their producer

closing note ! fr idk what did i wrote here.. i tried to proofread.. there might still be incorrect facts and how they would react as i haven't been able to stay up to date ever since the ss event (?) for (!!) ... so basically yeah i'm not sure anymore lol ... reblogs and likes are appreciated , thanks :3c

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 50

part 1 | part 49 | ao3

cw: angst, canon-typical violence, period-typical homophobia

Steve gets the full story from Jeff later that night.

After Eddie and Wayne come out of the bathroom — after Eddie goes straight to his room and shuts the door without so much as a glance in Steve's direction, after Wayne clears his throat and suggests they all clear out and give the kid a night to cool off — Steve drags himself back to his trailer and paces for a while. Tries not to feel horribly rejected, which is...

It's fucking ridiculous, is what it is.

Stupid to be focusing on his own dumb feelings right now.

Eddie's the one with a pulverized face.

So anyway, Jeff. Steve dials his number, and it feels weird that he even has his number at all — weirder still that, of all the guys in Corroded Coffin, he and Jeff have the most in common. Makes sense, though; Jeff's the only one who likes professional sports even a little.

"Hello?" Jeff's nasal voice comes over the line.

He sounds like his usual self — doesn't sound like he got pummeled, at least. Steve paces a tighter circle, says, "Hey, man, it's Steve."

Jeff makes a clipped noise. "You saw Eddie then?"

Furious heat crawls up the back of Steve’s neck, the image swimming red in his tunneled vision: the welt under Eddie's eye, the blood blooming on his chin. Someone did that to him.

Someone who needs to fucking pay for it.

“Yeah,” he seethes, trying to keep his voice down. “What the hell happened?"

Jeff sighs; launches into the vague version of events that he's allowed to tell — the version with no names and no identifying details, because Eddie made them swear not to tell Steve who was responsible.

"Sorry, man," he says when Steve presses for the third time; sounds like he means it, too. "Eddie seems to think you'd just land yourself in big boy jail if you knew, so…”

Steve clenches his jaw, his fists. Imagines fresh blood against his knuckles, how good it would feel to slam them into someone’s face; has a flashback of Billy Hargrove pinning him to a kitchen floor, laughing maniacally while his world went dull and dim.

…Goddammit. “He’s not wrong.”

So Steve listens, silent and helpless while Jeff tells him as much as he can about the mounting Satanic panic: how the townspeople are still grieving everyone who died last summer, how that grief is turning to paranoia, conspiracies about the destruction of the hospital and the fire at the mall, and now there are all these news articles coming out, whipping churchgoers into a frenzy over the queers and the occult, and the end result of all of it is that Eddie gets his ass beat in the alley behind a shitty dive bar.

All for having the nerve to wear a Black Sabbath shirt in public.

“Eddie said they stole something?” Steve prompts after a short silence.

"His amp,” Jeff says, and Steve sags in relief. At least it wasn’t the Warlock. He can replace an amp no problem. “They stole our fucking tip jar, too. Not there was much in it, man, but still.”

Fuckers, Steve thinks.

"Fuckers," Jeff spits, then sighs, "so much for being Christ-like, or whatever."

Steve chews his lip. Fiddles with his nails, hoping to work out a way to get Jeff to give him names. He only knows one name that comes to mind, but he can’t just go pummeling people on a hunch.

“If you ask me again,” Jeff says, “I’m hanging up.”

Well, damn. He slouches back against the counter, folding his arms over his chest. "The rest of you are alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah, we're good. We were loading the van when it happened.” Another short, derisive sound. “Of course they waited to corner him when he was alone."

"So they planned this," Steve says, and the name in his head is practically flashing on a marquee. Jason Carver and his lackeys at that party back in November. The back of Jason’s head at the midnight mass they snuck into. Is this freak bothering you?

Steve’s voice is a lethal whisper. "Do you think they'll do it again?"

"Steve—"

“Do,” he repeats, “you think” —Hopper’s ghost in his mouth, authoritative and slow— “they'll do it again?"

Jeff lets out a long breath, his words wobbly with nerves. "I don't know, dude. Probably not? One of them looked pretty freaked out by how messed up Eddie's eye was."

Steve tastes blood in his mouth.

Fucking better have.

Another silence falls, rustling and static sounds, and Jeff hesitates. "Listen, uh..."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing, just... Well. Eddie can get a little, um. A little weird, about people seeing him be, like, vulnerable and shit. So. Just a heads up."

Weird like hiding from his boyfriend? the petty part of Steve’s brain supplies. Weird like shutting his door without saying goodbye?

He tamps down hard on the hurt that bubbles up at the reminder, because—

Because Eddie’s seen him at his most pathetic too many times to count. Has seen him blubbering and soft and desperate for comfort; has offered it so eagerly without judgment or thought. And if Steve can’t do the same now, if Eddie thinks there’s shame to be found in it, then that means— that means…

He swallows the glass shard in his throat. “Thanks for the warning, man. For real.”

—

part 51

holy shit i can’t believe i wrote 50 parts of this

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[ghostsprobably]

immediate thoughts on the new winx trailer

- I LOVE FLORA'S VOICE but girl why are you on earth im sorry this isnt ur moment. i'm interested if this will mean she and bloom will be even closer as room mates but stella needs to be blooms psuedo sister

- IS THAT KNUT???? DID THEY MAKE KNUT HOT? I DONT KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS

- no sign of kiko other than her notebook which to me implies he won't exist as a pet (maybe he'll show up later?)

- i do not like stella's voice. its hard to place why but it just doesnt fit her imo.

- why does stella put on a wig in her fairy form? those thick ass bangs look like a wig. why are they v bangs. why does she only have them as a fairy

- blooms voice is very generic sounding but i mean. yeah

- ummmm the wings. i think they are so tacky 😭 they look like they were designed with the sole purpose of making it as easy as possible to turn them into cheapo merch wings that are awful quality and even uglier. AND the two we've seen (stella and flora) fuck up their color palettes!!!

- why is knut big and sexy.

- im glad we're restarting. i hope they're able to do as good of a job as all of the amazing reboots in the fandom, but im so worried they just wont put the heart in that the story needs

- the trix look GOOD. they look better than the winx lmaooo. icy is my favorite but i have to say i loveee stormy's new design. she's still white tho, but we dont know if they'll actually be sisters or not.

- aisha is here!!!!! shes here in season one!!!! i am so excited about this aaa i cant wait to see how that changes her dynamic with the group

- im still a tad worried but im more excited than i was, and i am dying to see the boys. i wonder if nabu and helia will be in season one as well

[konigsblog]

perv!simon and perv!mace are waiting for a blowjob, love...

tw: dub-con (coercion), secretary!reader

they reconnected after being in the same unit years ago, with the same fond interest in you, price's secretary.

when you helped price out, jealously bloomed inside them. they didn't like how much attention he got. but when you were running about, they wouldn't hesitate to try and coerce you into their barracks for a little fun.

when you denied them, that it was forbidden, they'd tease you for being a prude. simon chuckling when you got bashful and shy, and mace standing behind you, whispering dirty things in your ear with that godforsaken accent, his hand sliding up that skirt that was doing nothing to hold them back from taking what they wanted.

just let simon fuck your tight ass while mace gets a blowjob, yeah? they'll explain to price that they needed you for a minute... perhaps a bit of an understatement.

[obsessive-ego]

Hey, I don't know if you've answered this before or not but, what do you think the colors in musical!beetlejuice's hair mean?

Like what colors mean and ur personal headcanons for them?

Sorry if you've answered before!

We're gonna start with the obvious

Dull forest green is his default, you can see bits of black and brown mixed in there, and it's just his neutral mood

Green, more vibrant and full of life, even for a dead guy, when he's happy and excited, or just having fun, like in "that beautiful sound"

Purple, sadness, of course, depression, just feeling down, sometimes can be a bit blue depending on how shitty he feels, when he cries, his tears are black and gooey, they'll stain your clothes

Red, anger, I mean duh, can resemble fire when he's really furious, but that rarely ever happens

Pink, love, when he's smitten, soft, love sick

Black, despair, usually accompanied with black gooey tears, and struggling to hold a physical human form

Yellow, for the longest time, I had no idea what to do with yellow, and a lot of musical Beetlejuice writers tend to go differently with it, but personally, I landed on yellow means confused, it's not a colour that appears often, and never really fully blooms on his form, normally springing up in small patches

Magenta, horny

Advanced lessons, the black stripes on Beetlejuice's suit CAN change colour to match his hair on rare occasions, but he REALLY has to be feeling it

His first genuine kiss with you? His hair, tie, moss, and stripes are now pink

His mother is chewing him out in front of you, saying how you could never ever love a disappointment like him? His hair and suit are now purple, and he's struggling to hold a solid form, almost melting

I do like the idea of negative emotions affecting his physical appearance as well. Musical Beetlejuice is a demon, yeah? Who's to say his human form is his true form? Maybe when he gets so angry, his teeth get sharper, his hands more claw like, his eyes more snake like, ect ect it's get worse as he gets mentally worse

Yeah

Thank you for letting me babble on♡

[oqwomyo]

3rd Anniversary. Bellen's card translation.

Part 1.

 

Some time after the audience with Mr. Elboa… In the ancient forest village… We decided to take a rest.

 

- Ancient Forest Village –

 

One day… I was walking together with Belen in the village.

 

Bellen: Ancient forest… It’s a beautiful place, rich in nature.

Bellen: Maybe it’s the purity of the air… I feel like I can become healthier just by breathing.

Bellen: Master, do you think so too?

 

You: Of course, I understand you a little.

 

Then… A voice, that sounded like a sob, was heard from somewhere.

 

Ancient Forest Residents: Sob… Sob… Ugh…

 

You: Someone… is crying?

 

 

Bellen: …It looks like they are. Besides, it looks like there’s more than one person crying.

Bellen: I'm worried... Can we go and see?

 

You: Yeah.

 

Bellen: I hear voices from the other side.

 

We walked in the direction where the crying was coming from.

 

*Step step step*

If you follow the sound of the crying... You can see the villagers gathered. And in the middle... The ancient people, motionless as if sleeping, were lying in a coffin.

 

You: This is...

 

Belen: ……….

 

Aro: Ah, Bellen-san, Name-san.

Chenoa: Good afternoon.

 

You: Hello...

 

Aro: Why are you two here?

Bellen: While walking around the village, we heard a voice... We were curious, so we came to see you.

Bellen: This is... A funeral, right?

Aro: Yes... A villager died yesterday.

Aro: So now... We are burying him, returning him to the earth.

Aro: In the Western Land, when dead people are buried in the ground...

Aro: They return to the ground... And they say that they become forest spirits and watch over people.

 

You: I see...

 

The ancient people placed flowers in the coffin. The person who slept in the coffin looked very young.

 

Villager: Sob... Sob... Dad...

Bellen: Dad?

Aro: Yes... This baby is his child.

Bellen: I see... People in the ancient forest, it seems, do not know how old they are.

Aro: For us, people of the ancient forest... Physical growth stops at a certain point...

Aro: Who is an adult and who is a child... Knowing who is who can be difficult for people who come from other lands.

Now that I think about it… When I visited the Western Land with the basement butlers… Miyaji explained that the ancient people's growth stops halfway through their lives. And… Also that they don't live long.

 

Villager: Sob… Sob… Uuugh…

Bellen: ……….

Bellen: ….I want to pick flowers.

Bellen: I want to mourn him too. I don't know anything about him, but…

Bellen: When he becomes a forest spirit… I want him to continue watching over everyone.

Aro: Thank you, Bellen-san. I'm sure he'll be happy too.

Bellen: Then… Master, I'm sorry, but can I ask you to give me some time?

 

You: I'll go pick flowers with you too.

 

Bellen: No, it's okay. Master, rest here.

Bellen: I'll pick some for Master too and come back.

Bellen: Be a good child and wait for me here.

 

You: …Okay, be careful.

 

Bellen: Yes. Then I'll go.

Chenoa: Bellen-san. If there are flowers, they'll be blooming over there.

Bellen: Thank you. I'm going.

 

And Bellen left me... He went to look for flowers.

 

- A few minutes later -

 

Bellen said he'd be back soon, but... He took longer than we expected.

 

Aro: I wonder how far Bellen-san went to pick flowers?

Chenoa: Is he having trouble finding flowers?

Chenoa: I said where the flowers were… But they were probably all picked by now…

Aro: Hm~m… There were a lot of flowers in other places…

Aro: After everyone picked them all… I’m not so sure about that anymore…

 

You: I’m a little worried…

 

Chenoa: I agree… I don’t think anything happened, but…

 

You: I’ll go look for Bellen.

 

Aro: Oh, okay.

Aro: We’ll be here… If anything happens, don’t hesitate to reach for us.

Chenoa: Be careful and don’t go too far into the forest.

 

Thanks to Aro and the others… I’m going to look for Bellen.

 

*Step step step*

 

I walked into the forest in the direction Bellen was going. And soon… I found him near the bushes.

 

Bellen: ………

Part 2.

 

Bellen holds a flower in his hand… He has a bit of a gloomy expression.

 

Bellen: …….

Bellen: …..Hah.

 

You: Bellen, are you okay?

 

Bellen: Wha…

Bellen: Master, you scared me.

Bellen: Why are you here…. Did you come for me?

 

You: You haven’t returned for a long time.

 

Bellen: I see… It seems like I made you worry.

Bellen: Sorry, Master. Are you feeling lonely?

Bellen: I can’t believe it’s been so long… I was so caught up in the flowers that I didn’t notice how quickly time passed.

Bellen: Then… Let’s go back to the village together?

 

You: You sighed a while ago…

 

Bellen: Sighed..?

Bellen: Ah… Did you hear…

 

You: Something happened?

 

Bellen: Hmm~m…

Bellen: If I continue to worry Master like this… It won’t be good.

Bellen: …To be honest, seeing the funeral earlier… I remembered Mr. Goetia’s death.

Bellen: Surrounding the motionless Mr. Goetia… Everyone was crying.

Bellen: …People’s death… People are saddened when they see it…

Bellen: …I still can’t get used to it.

Bellen: Even if someone who has nothing to do with me died… My chest tightens.

 

You: So that’s it…

 

Bellen: …Oh, I’m sorry.

Bellen: I wanted you to stop worrying, but… Hearing that made you even more worried, right?

Bellen: I’m fine. Don’t worry.

 

If he doesn’t like funerals... Maybe he doesn’t have to force himself to come back. Why not just give Aro-san the flowers and go somewhere else? Having thought so, I decided to tell my thoughts to Belen.

You: If it's hard, then don't force yourself...

 

Bellen: ...No. I want to mourn properly too.

Bellen: I'll come back and give flowers.

 

You: Is that so... Okay.

 

And we... We're back for the funeral.

 *Step step step*

 

Aro: Bellen-san, Name-san. Welcome back.

Chenoa: You were so late... Did something happen?

Bellen: We're back. Sorry for making you worry.

Bellen: I wanted to pick the most beautiful flowers... I took my time choosing, and it seems like too much time has passed.

Bellen: Thanks to Master who came... I made my choice.

Aro: Heh... I can't believe you care so much about the beauty of flowers... Bellen-san, you're really kind.

Bellen: That's not true. In fact, I'm sorry for making you wait.

Bellen: If Master hadn't come... I might not have returned yet...

Bellen: Thank you for coming for me, Master.

 

You: Y-Yeah.

 

Bellen: So... Then...

Bellen: Right away... Can we lay flowers?

Chenoa: Yes. We haven't laid anything yet, so let's go together.

 

Approaching the coffin... We carefully laid the flowers.

 

Bellen: ………

Bellen: Rest in peace...

 

Bellen closes his eyes and prays silently. The way he prayed earnestly for the stranger... I felt his kindness. Like Bellen, I close my eyes... I offer my prayers straight from the heart.

 

You: (Please watch over everyone.)

 

Bellen: ……..

Bellen: …..Master...

Bellen: …….Heh...

 

And... After praying, we decided to leave the burial site.

 

- A little later -

 

After saying goodbye to Aro-san and Chenoa-san… Bellen and I were walking in the forest together.

 

Bellen: ……..

 

You: …Belen, does it still hurt?

 

Bellen: …No, everything is fine.

Bellen: …If I say that, it will only make you more worried.

Bellen: Sorry, Master. I am really fine.

 

You: Is that so…

 

Bellen: Uh-huh.

Bellen: …..

Bellen: Fufu… Master, why are you looking like that?

Bellen: You are so worried… Master is a truly kind person.

 

You: I think it is natural.

 

Bellen: That is not true.

Bellen: Getting close to another person’s heart… You pray earnestly even for a stranger.

Bellen: It is not natural… Master is a special and wonderful person.

Bellen: Because there's such a kind person by our side... I think that's what saved the hearts of all the butlers.

 

You: All the butlers..?

 

Bellen: Because... The devil butlers are hated all over the world... People say terrible things, don't they?

Bellen: No matter how much we risk our lives to save people... We'll still be despised.

Bellen: Even thinking about it... It's too painful.

Bellen: But everyone... They have Master they care about.

Bellen: Every time something happens... We have Master who worries about us and is grateful to us.

Bellen: The existence of such a person... I'm sure it's a support for everyone.

 

You: I wish it were like that...

Bellen: Fufu... Be confident, master.

Bellen: It's been a while since I met Master...

Bellen: When I'm with Master... I think I can understand what other butlers feel..

Bellen: Without realizing it... I feel like I'm starting to be drawn to such a wonderful Master.

 

You: Eh?

 

Bellen: I want to protect this person… There’s a certain charm about Master that I can’t help but think about.

Bellen: Strong and kind… Such a sweet Master.

Bellen: I’m so lucky to have met such a person.

 

You: Um… Thank you.

 

Bellen: … Fufu. Master, your face is turning red.

Bellen: Did I make you flustered?

 

After saying that… Belen gently stroked my head.

 

Bellen: There, there …

Bellen: Master really is a very sweet child.

 

You: …Are you teasing me?

 

Bellen: I would never. That’s not true.

Bellen: I’m not saying that as a joke.

Bellen: I’m glad I met you, Master… I’d be happy if we could be together forever.

Bellen: I really think so.

 

Bellen looks at me with kind eyes. I couldn’t… I looked away.

 

Bellen: …Listen, master.

 

You: What is it?

 

Bellen: Remember what I told you about the future the other day?

Bellen: After all the angels disappear… What would I like to do?

 

You: Yes, I remember.

 

Bellen: As I told you then… There are many things I would like to do.

Bellen: I want to open an orphanage, and I want to open a bar. I would also like to travel.

Bellen: And…

Belen: If Master was here… I’m sure it would be more fun.

 

You: Bellen …

Bellen: If I had said that when we first met… It would have caused you problems.

Bellen: But… I seriously think so.

Bellen: The future with master… I want to see it.

Bellen: What about you, master?

You: I...

Bellen: ....

Bellen: ...Fufu. Okay, it seems you're very confused.

Bellen: There's no need to answer now.

When Bellen said that... He gently touched my lips with his index finger.

Bellen: Confused and lost... And when you find unwavering feelings within you...

Bellen: Tell me.

Bellen: I... Will accept any answer.

You: (...Truly any answer..?)

Seeing my confused face... Bellen winks at me mischievously.

Bellen: ...Well, of course...

Bellen: In order to get the answer I desire... I'll do my best.

Bellen: From now on... Let's spend a lot of time together, Master.

Bellen strokes my head again. His gentle and sweet smile... I imagined a future with him.