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bard-llama · 3 years

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Second Chances (Time Travel AU)

Okay, I’ve slept about 4 hours, so hopefully this is coherent, but I created a new fic universe yesterday and I’m a little obsessed.

This was inspired by @fantom-flower‘s endeavor to engage, specifically the part where Iorveth sleeps with twink!Roche and talks about taking Roche with him when he leaves. I wanted to figure out how he really COULD bring Roche with him and, because I’m me, I created a whole complex universe to do it lmao

(under a cut, ‘cause it’s long)

So, the premise is that Iorveth is killed by Roche around the time of Witcher 2 (i.e. 1270s), and he is PISSED about it, but also kinda resigned, ‘cause he’s always known Roche would be his death. But something about the death also REALLY makes Iorveth pissed at Foltest and the way that Roche is so devoted to such a shit man. But he’s dying, so what can he do?

Except, instead of things coming to an end, he wakes up somewhere with a genial-looking (presumed) human in front of him who offers him a second chance. Gaunter offers Iorveth the options to go back in time to any point in his life and start over. Iorveth doesn’t wholly believe this is happening, but hey, wtf, why not take it seriously? He knows he should go back to before humans arrive and maybe find a way to keep elves from ever falling from power. But when he thinks back on his own life during that time, all he really remembers is the pain and loneliness he felt - the result of a family who didn’t want him. He tried to fill the pain with the adoration of audiences as he performed flamboyantly, but it all feels superficial in his memory and he doesn’t want to go back to then.

So when he thinks about when else he could go, he thinks of the way Roche killed him, of the way he resented that an incredible opponent like Roche was such a tool in the hands of a man like Foltest. So then he has an idea: what if he steals Roche before Foltest turns him into that man?

Gaunter seals the deal with the promise of payment being “something you don’t have, but will once more”, which Iorveth is like wtf does that mean? But like, whatever, it’s a good deal.

Iorveth wakes up and thinks he’s had a wild fucking dream - until he realizes that he has both of his eyes again. As he freaks out over that, he comes to realize that he has woken up in a time before the Scoia’tael and before the Vrihedd Brigade. Before the Nilfgaardian wars in general, actually. He has woken up 23 years in the past, in 1247, in a world where the elves that haven’t assimilated into human societies are refugees living in the Blue Mountains. Isengrim runs a sort of proto-Scoia’tael movement that Iorveth is a young officer in. At this point in his life, he’s been fighting humans for about 200 years (the sacking of Loc Muinne triggered his enlistment in Aelirenn’s uprising in the 1060s). He and Isengrim aren’t actually friends yet - Isengrim barely knows who this nobody kid is. But when Iorveth comes to him and proposes that, since they can’t hide in the mountains forever, why don’t they bring the fight to humanity? Whether that looks like an actual fight or a diplomatic negotiation, Iorveth doesn’t actually care, but Isengrim consults with civilian leaders like Filavandrel and Enid an Gleanna/Francesca Findabair and they decide it’s worth it to make diplomatic overtures. And since Iorveth is really insistent that he needs to go to Temeria (in fairness, he was born in the forests that I’m calling the Gleanne forests that his Scoia’tael are later based in), they start there. Maybe King Medell is a little more sympathetic to elves than the other northern kings or maybe they’re just like “wtf gotta start somewhere”, but either way, Isengrim brings a small unit to Vizima.

While Isengrim and Toruviel negotiate (or try to?) with King Medell, Iorveth goes looking for Roche. He doesn’t know where to look at first, but figures that hanging around the palace hoping to find Roche with Prince Foltest would be a bad idea, so instead, he searches the city. He vaguelly recalls intel that Roche in the future often visits a brothel in the shit part of town, so he starts there. He goes from brothel to brothel, hanging out in the taverny area on the first floor and watching the Johns. At first, he’s unsuccessful and starting to get frustrated, but then he happens to come down the list to the Clarabelle brothel. He’s watching the Johns as he sips an ale, searching for Roche - only to have one of the workers come up and start flirting with him. I think maybe it takes him a little bit to recognize Roche - after all, he’s only known the man as a 43yo soldier and the twink before him is very much NOT that. (is it still a twink when they’re hairy? ‘cause my Roche def has body hair). But when Roche propositions him, he decides hey, why not? After all, if he wants to convert Roche to his side, he’s going to need to spend time with him. And if that time happens to involve paying for sex? Well, that was just a side bonus. It’s not as if any part of him has wondered what Roche would be like in bed before. Not at all.

So while the elven unit is hanging around Vizima and while Iorveth slowly gets to know this Roche (who might not have even chosen the name Roche yet. Haven’t decided), Iorveth deals with the consequences of having the memory of being an old warrior with one eye while his actual body is very much not that. There are some weird things people notice - he shoots with his left hand now, closing his right eye to aim. He knows moves that they’ve never seen before. But his body doesn’t know how to do those moves and he has to retrain and figure out how to fight as he is now. His memories are both a help and a hindrance and he trains with Isengrim and Toruviel and a few OCs and pooossibly Filavandrel is there too, but as a diplomat, not as a fighter.

I don’t quite know how the negotiations with King Medell go or exactly what the journey of elves claiming equality looks like, but ultimately, Iorveth manages to convert Roche to his side (and no, he hasn’t fallen in love along the way. Not at all) and this actually changes quite a number of things, especially combined with all the other changes from the past Iorveth remembers. Elves are more successful in gaining equal rights throughout the north due to these changes and Iorveth and Roche get together properly and maybe go back to the Blue Mountains with the other elves (who uh... very much question Iorveth going for a fucking human whore who also happens to be a “playmate” of the prince and princess of Temeria). All seems hunky dory and Iorveth really thinks that he’s done it - he’s made his second chance count and the world is better than his old one was. And he still has both eyes and is still beautiful and maybe even finds more time to play music now.

So then, of course, payment time comes due. Because the Witcher world is pain, Gaunter comes to collect - and Iorveth loses his eye once more. This, of course, leads to a lot of mixed feelings and grief from Iorveth, who now thinks that he’s ruined again, disfigured and ugly and in this world, he doesn’t even have the saving grace of being a Scoia’tael leader. He thinks that no one can love him now and goes into a serious depression spiral that does not help his recovery At All.

Fortunately, Roche is in love with him and he’s built a family of elves around him and they aren’t the Scoia’tael he’d had before, but they’re still family, his new family, and it takes time, but Iorveth does eventually recover and come to see his own worth.

Open questions I still need to figure out:

Does Isengrim have his scar already? Or did that come later?

How does Iorveth manage to convince Isengrim to go to Temeria?

Does Iorveth tell anyone the truth about his second chance?

What makes King Medell decide to actually negotiate with elves? Considering his son is fanatically anti-elf, I feel like maybe someone else in his life needs to be pro-elf and helps convince him to give it a try. Possibly his wife Sancia of Sodden and/or his daughter Adda of Temeria (not to be confused with Adda the White, her daughter).

Should Eliza (Roche’s mama) run the Clarabelle already? They’ve been in Vizima for about 10ish years, so I could go either way. If she’s not running it, who is the madame?

What is Foltest and Roche’s relationship? They’re definitely not as close as they are later in life. For one thing, Roche I think has maybe either not been through military training or has only just started. This is because right now, he’s basically a glorified “playmate”/companion for Foltest and Adda. It’s not until Foltest becomes King that he becomes more than that - but that won’t happen in this world.

Should I include Brigida? In my hc, Roche meets Foltest/comes into royal service by accident when he’s about 15. He and Brigida go on a date to a royal parade - notable because the royals are ACTUALLY coming through the shit part of town. Roche happens to notice an assassin and tackles them, thereby saving Foltest and Adda’s life. King Medell decides this peasant has potential, so he makes Roche into his children’s playmate.

I’m really excited for this AU! I’ve skipped ahead and started writing Iorveth waking up in the past, so I still need to go back and write his death and deal with Gaunter, but I’ll get there. This is gonna be a BIG fic, I think, so I’ll have time lol

That said, how tf did I get here from “I want a world where Iorveth DOES take the pretty whore he slept with with him when he leaves”???

#rorveth #iorveth x roche #time travel #second chances #the witcher #fic planning

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eiirisworkshop · 4 years

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Untitled Shameless Fanfic

For Good Intentions WIP Fest, details of which can be found @goodintentionswipfest

This is from when I first started watching Shameless (US) and is set during season 1. I’ve abandoned the story because the set up has been OBE as I watched more, I just really wanted good things for Ian.

It ends pretty abruptly, but at a point that probably would have been a scene or chapter break.

***

Fiona was yelling at Carl, Lip and Debs were yelling at each other, Liam had decided to join the squawking. Ian looked around at his siblings, ears ringing, and decided to go for a goddamn walk. A couple blocks from home he saw Frank passed out in a lawn chair in a front yard, a still mostly full bottle of Jäger under his arm. Ian watched a dribble of drool drip onto Frank's shirt, then grabbed the bottle and kept walking. He wandered to the lake front without much thinking about it—seemed like everyone just wound up there to daydream, to freak out, to sulk, to rage at the universe, which someone seemed to be doing right now. There were tire tracks in the snow leading to a red Jaguar SUV. Footprints lead away from the driver's side door to a man standing on the ice in a blue peacoat, throwing hunks of compacted snow and ice at the edge of the water, screaming at the sky.

“You think I fucking wanted this?!” he shouted, throwing a handful of ice. “I didn't! Nobody asked me! I'm so fucking sorry I'm an embarrassment!” he said, voice dripping with malicious sarcasm. He kicked at a snowbank. “Jesus fucking bullshit.”

“You okay, man?” Ian called from a few yards away.

“Fuck you,” the driver of the red SUV spat. “Fuck you, fuck my parents, fuck Reverend Arnold, fuck my stupid fucking bitch of a sister, fuck that backstabbing whore, fuck the office of the bursar, and fuck it's cold!” He kicked at more snow.

“Dude, it's March in Chicago, of course it's cold,” Ian said. He'd picked his way across the snow and ice while the man was ranting. He held out the bottle of Jäger. “I think you need this more than my dad does.”

The man eyed him skeptically. Damn, he was cute—dark wavy hair, warm tan skin with barely there freckles, complicated green-brown eyes. He grabbed the bottle and took a swig. “God's got one hell of a sense of humor,” he muttered darkly. “Of fucking course some pretty boy shows up when that is the last fucking thing I want to think about.” He turned back to the water and gestured broadly at Ian. “It's shit like this that landed me here in the first place!”

Ian arched an eyebrow. “I'm pretty?”

“Fuck you, you look like a Gaelic-American wetdream,” he spat. “Could probably make a killing in porn, there's gotta be overlap in the audiences for ginger and twink.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ian snarled, stepping forward to give the jackass in the peacoat a shove.

“Fucking make me.” He shoved Ian back. So, since there was no one around, Ian kissed him. Hard. And didn't immediately get punched out, so that was a good thing. Even better, jackass kissed him back. When they broke apart for air, he gave Ian a shove toward the SUV. “In the car.”

Ian stood panting, his breath turning to mist in the cold air while his new favorite stranger opened the hatchback, shoved some duffle bags and other things out of the way, and folded the rear seats flat. He grabbed Ian by the sleeve, dragged him up into the car, reached up to yank the hatch shut, then resumed kissing him roughly. It didn't take long for their jackets to be shoved haphazardly into the next row of seats, pants down around their knees. Ian's fingers found their way to his fling's ass, but he got Ian by the wrist. “Oh, I don't think so, buddy.”

“I do,” Ian breathed.

“My car.”

“My Jäger.”

“Thought you said it was your dad's.”

Ian paused then gave a recalcitrant shrug. “Okay, fair.”

He pushed Ian onto his back, stretched across the seats to open the glovebox where he had a stash of condoms and lube—apparently this was not his first rodeo—then he was on Ian and his boxers were not.

He had a dense black and white and red tattoo over one hip and down along his thigh, puzzle pieces and celtic knots and feathers and spiderwebs all blending one into the other and somehow forming a bouquet of roses bound with a ribbon. Ian didn't get as long of a look at it as he would have liked, but then he really didn't care because holy fuck this guy was good.

Afterward, Ian watched a cloud drift across the moon through the tinted rear window. “I get the feeling you wouldn't appreciate it if I smoked in your car.”

“I'd throw your naked ass out in the snow,” the stranger said. It made Ian smirk. The stranger was sitting up against the sidewall of the SUV, head tipped back against the window, eyes closed, legs tangled with Ian's, the bottle of Jäger in one hand. “What'd you say your name was again?”

“I didn't.”

“I know.” He opened his eyes. “So what is it?”

“Ian.”

“Ian, huh?” He fiddled with the label. “I'm Dallas.”

Ian nodded. He grabbed his boxers, then his jeans.

“You're leaving?” Dallas asked quietly.

Ian shrugged. “Gonna smoke then go home. Not about to stay the night in the back of a stranger's car. No offense.”

“None taken.” Dallas watched him dress then fight for a minute figuring out how to open the hatch from the inside. He had stepped out and was just about to shut it when Dallas said, “Hey, you live around here?”

Ian nodded. “Yeah.”

“Maybe I'll see you around then.”

“Maybe.” Ian shrugged and felt his expression soften. “Maybe, yeah.” He closed the hatch.

“Where have you been?” Fiona was waiting up for him when Ian got home, sitting on the washing machine in the dark, ready to ambush him. “I was this close to putting together a search party for you.”

“I went for a walk,” Ian said, deftly sidestepping her with his still lit cigarette. “I wasn't even gone that long, gimme a break.”

“No one knew where you went!” she hissed. The younger kids must have been in bed already. “And we have talked about smoking in the house.”

“Not in common areas, I know, I know.” He held up his hands, backing up the stairs. “I'm going to my room.”

The lights were all out upstairs, but once Ian had the bedroom door shut, Lip's groggy voice asked from just above and to his right, “Dude, where'd you go?”

Ian felt himself grin. “Went for a walk, did the most amazingly stupid thing,” he said quietly. He didn't want to wake Carl. He did not want to deal with Carl. Not right now.

The bunkbeds creaked slightly as Lip sat up. “Shit, did you hire a hooker?” He paused. “Why is that the first thing I thought of? Are there even guy hookers? I know in theory they exist but I don't think I've ever seen one.”

“I did not hire a hooker, male or female.” Ian dropped onto his bed, took a drag on his cigarette, and let it out slowly.

“So what did you do?”

“I fucked a total stranger in the back of his car.”

“Shit, Ian,” Lip breathed. He sounded like he was torn between adulation and horror. “Please tell me you wrapped it.”

“He did.”

“He did? I thought you usually—”

“Usually, yeah.” He nudged the window open just far enough to tap his ashes outside.

“Damn. Why'd you do it?”

“I dunno.” Ian exhaled. “Just wanted to.”

“Fair enough, man, fair enough.” Lip was quiet for a moment, then, “How was it?”

“Good. It was good.”

“That's good.”

“Yeah.” Ian finished his cigarette, flicked the butt out into the snow, and pulled the window closed.

The first Friday in April, Ian was walking home from school with Lip and Karen in all his ROTC gear—usually he only had to wear it on Thursdays, but there had been an assembly—when he spotted a red Jaguar SUV with quite a few dings and scratches and the front badge ripped off the grill parked in an overgrown empty lot on the corner. Ian stopped walking. “Oh, that's not good.”

“Huh?” Lip asked.

“You remember that amazingly stupid thing I did?”

“Yeah?”

“That's the car.”

“Oh.” Lip eyed the Jag. “Was it that banged up before?”

“No.”

“Oh. Fuck.”

“What's this about?” Karen asked.

“Don't worry about it,” Lip said as Ian picked through the slush and weeds.

He couldn't see through the tinted windows, so he rapped his knuckles on the glass of the rear driver's side door. “Dallas?”

There was some rustling from inside, then the door opened. It was Dallas, dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, his hair unkempt. He blinked at Ian.

“Oh, good. You're not dead,” Ian said with genuine relief.

A smile tugged at Dallas's mouth. “No, I'm not dead. Look at you, all in uni—” he spotted Lip and Karen behind Ian and his face fell, “form….”

“What happened to your car?”

“Hooligans.” Dallas nodded around Ian. “Who are they?”

“Oh, my brother and his...” Ian turned to Lip and Karen, arms open questioningly, “his friend who's a girl who he fucks on a regular basis and cares deeply about, but is definitely not dating?”

“Sounds about right,” Lip said.

Karen nodded.

Dallas gave Ian a searching look he understood all too well: Do they know?

Ian shrugged. “My brother's cool.” He glanced behind Dallas—the same duffle bags were there, unzipped, clothes and books strewn around the back of the SUV on spread out blankets, all the seats folded flat. “Are you living here?”

“So what if I am?” Dallas asked defensively.

Ian shrugged again. “Hey, Lip, you go on home, okay? I'll catch up.”

Lip arched an eyebrow, glanced at Karen, looped his arm through hers, and kept walking. Dallas watched them go then his eyes flicked up to Ian's face. “What are you doing?”

“Hey, you're the one who was hoping you'd see me around,” Ian pointed out.

“I was having the worst day of my life when I said that,” Dallas said quickly. “Wasn't exactly thinking clearly. Which is probably why anything happened at all. I don't do things like that. And I'm letting all the cold in leaving the door open to talk to you, so—”

“If you let me in you could close the door.”

Dallas eyed him warily then moved back so Ian could climb in then pulled the door shut. “Why do you care?”

“I don't do things like that either,” Ian said simply, folding his long camo-clad legs under himself. “I might have been sappily worrying about you the past couple weeks.”

“Really?”

“No.” Ian took off his hat. “But I kinda wish I had been.”

“If you're trying to be cute, it's not working.” He grabbed one of the open books from behind him, propped it on his knee, and started reading.

Ian twisted to try to look at the paige. “What's that?”

“Psychology.” He sighed. “I have a test Monday.”

“You're living out of your car and still going to...college?” Ian asked.

“Not gonna drop out mid-semester just because I got disowned.”

Ian straightened up. “You got disowned?”

“Yeah, I got disowned. Why the fuck else would I be living out of my car on the south side?” Dallas spat.

“Good point.”

Dallas huffed, snapped the book shut, and tossed it into the front seat. “Why are you here? Why are you talking to me? Why did you even stop?”

“Saw your car all banged up, first thought was something bad happened to you, and I'm not enough of an asshole not to give a shit,” Ian said. “And now I might actually be hoping something else might happen.”

Dallas snorted. “You don't seem desperate at all.”

“My options are limited around here,” Ian countered. “In fact, I have two—one of them's married and the other one's in jail. So, yeah.”

Dallas stared at him for a few seconds, then said,”Fuck it,” grabbed him by his jacket, and pulled him in for a kiss.

After a few minutes, they weren't fucking again like Ian thought they might be; he wasn't getting another look at that complicated tattoo. No, Dallas was crying. Ian pulled back, eyes wide, unsure what to do. “Um.”

Dallas shook his head and wiped his eyes. “Sorry.” He sniffed and shook his head again. “I don't know what's wrong with me.”

“I don't think—”

Dallas cut him off, “Maybe you should go home.”

“I can—”

“You should go home,” Dallas said again, firmer.

Ian bit his lip, looked away, and nodded once. “Right. Well, I live a couple blocks down and one over.” He put his hat back on. “Little blue house from the thirties, old orange Minibus outside. You can't miss it.” He hesitated, brushed a tear from Dallas's cheek, kissed where it had been, let himself out, slammed the door behind him, and cursed under his breath all the way home.

Lip cornered him almost as soon as he'd gotten into the house. “So?” he whispered, glancing around to make sure none of their siblings were paying attention. “Did you have another go?”

“No.” Ian shrugged his brother off and trudged up the stairs. Lip followed him. Ian slammed their bedroom door in his face. Lip followed him in anyway. Ian rolled his eyes and started changing out his uniform. “We made out a little but then he started crying and told me to leave.” He crossed his arms and looked at Lip. “He got disowned, he lives in that Jag.”

Lip's eyebrows shot up. “Shit, man. Disowned for being gay?”

Ian shrugged. “I assume so.”

“Shit.” Lip looked him over. “But you've got a crush, don't you?”

“Shut the fuck up, Lip.”

He couldn't stop thinking about Dallas. It was three in the morning, it had been more than a week since he'd seen the guy he'd spoken to exactly twice, but there he was, lying awake, thinking about him. He'd cared less after they'd fucked than after they'd just kissed. He didn't want to think about that.

He rolled over toward the window, away from his brothers, one thumb hooked in the waistband of his boxers. He wanted to see more of that tattoo—it hurt his brain, he couldn't quite remember what it looked like, just an impression of puzzle pieces and roses was left in his head. He wondered if Dallas's dark-on-dark freckles were only across his cheekbones and nose or if they were everywhere else like his own—he hadn't had a chance to really look, and with the low contrast in the dim light he couldn't tell. He wanted to know what the hell Dallas was to be the color he was—he wasn't black, his hair and features made that much clear, but he sure as hell wasn't white either. Dallas had mentioned a sister when he was screaming at the sky. Ian wondered if she were older or younger, if she was the only sibling Dallas had. He wasn't sure, but he thought he'd seen Dallas had earring holes. He wanted to know if he was right, and if he was, he wanted to see him with jewelry in. He wanted to taste Dallas's skin again, sink his teeth into one cafe-au-lait shoulder just enough to hurt, watch the expression in those green-brown eyes as he took him.

He really wanted to not share his room with his brothers right now.

He got up and locked himself in the bathroom. He sat on the toilet with the lid down, eyes closed, head back as he touched himself, biting his lip to keep himself quiet. He remembered the soft, uncalloused hands on his neck, his chest; long fingers in his hair, inside him; warm mouth on his, at his pulse; those eyes, those eyes….

His head swam. He cursed quietly and just sat there. He hadn't obsessed like this since—well, ever. Brad Pitt didn't count. Brad Pitt wasn't a real person. Not really. More like an idea of person.

He cleaned himself up, tucked himself back into his shorts, and went back to bed. He still didn't sleep.

His lust-induced insomnia—because, fuck it, that's what it was—didn't get any better as days then weeks passed with no sign of the red Jag or its looker of an owner. If anything, it got worse.

Fiona caught him by the arm as he stepped around her while she did laundry. “Hey, are you doing okay? You don't look so good. You been sleepin'?”

He sighed and closed his eyes. He could lie, say he was fine, but she would know. Fiona always knew. “Not really, no.”

“What's a matter?” she asked with the kind of gruff tenderness she reserved for when she was really concerned.

He shrugged and looked around, more out of habit than anything else. He knew no one else but Liam was home. Even so, he lowered his voice. “There's a guy.”

Fiona blinked. “Oh. Fuck. Okay.”

Ian shook his head. “I can't think about anything else and it's keeping me up and I just want, so bad, I don't know, to see him? To fuck him? Anything.”

“Shit, you've got it bad.”

Ian nodded, eyes on the floor.

“So,” Fiona crossed her arms and settled her weight into one hip, “who is this guy? D'you know him from school or something?”

“I, uh,” Ian cringed, “I've only talked to him twice.”

“Oh, fuck,” Fiona sighed. “Must have been quite the couple of conversations.”

“Yeah….”

“Does this guy have a name or do you not know?”

“Dallas.”

“Any lastname?”

“I don't know.”

“Well, a first name is better than no name.” She chewed on her lip. “Not too great that you're losing sleep over a guy you hardly know, though.”

“I can't help it,” Ian said, tone more desperate that he'd've liked it to be.

“I know,” Fiona breathed. She clapped his shoulder and rubbed. “Been there.”

Ian took a deep breath and huffed. “Boys suck.”

Fiona snorted. “Oh, I know. I have four little brothers, remember?”

He grinned. She laughed. He laughed too.

She punched his shoulder and gave him a gentle shove. “Why don't you take some NyQuil and try to get in a nap while the house is quiet for once.”

“That,” he sighed, “is a good idea.”

He scrounged in the cabinets for the NyQuil and took a shot of it. Fiona swatted him on the ass with a dirty T-shirt as he passed on his way to the stairs. “Get some sleep.”

Almost a month later, with the snow mostly melted but the weather not yet warmed up, there was a knock at the front door. Fiona extricated herself from the gaggle of Gallaghers in front of the TV to answer the door. She opened it just enough to face whoever had knocked without looking too rude. There was a boy standing on the porch, dark hair, dark skin, darker freckles, and a nice buttonfront shirt that looked like it had seen better days. He fidgeted a little. “Hey, uh, does Ian live here?”

“Yeah,” Fiona said slowly, eyeing him skeptically. “Who's looking for him?”

“I'm Dallas.” The boy bounced on the balls of his feet. “We, uh, we've hung out a few times.”

“Right.” Fiona stepped back, half closing the door, and called, “Ian! Door!”

She waited for Ian to be just a step away before vacating the doorway herself. Ian didn't take the last step to the door, just stared. “Dallas?”

“Hey,” Dallas said, not making eye contact. “Can we talk?”

“Yeah,” Ian said cautiously. He stepped out onto the porch and pulled the door shut behind him.

“Look,” Dallas said, “I'm sorry for being all weird, last time we saw each other.”

“That was more than a month ago,” Ian pointed out sharply.

“I know.” Dallas crammed his hands in his pockets. “I've been really busy, with finals, so I've pretty much been living in the school library or crashing on classmates' couches studying.”

“Right.”

“But finals are over now,” Dallas said, sounding like he was trying to suppress an edge of panic in his voice. “And I'm here. So, uh, you wanna go for a walk?”

Ian glanced at the beat up Jaguar parked on the street. “You're gonna leave that here?”

“Unless you don't think it'd be safe?” Dallas hedged.

Ian snorted, went to the door, stuck his head in, and called, “Hey, don't let anybody steal the red SUV out here!” A chorus of agreements responded from the couch. He yanked the door back shut and trotted down the steps without looking at Dallas. “Let's go for a walk.”

Dallas followed, falling into stride a half step behind Ian, hands still shoved in his pockets. Ian led them around a few blocks without speaking, ending up in a secluded cove under a railway bridge where he pressed Dallas up against a pillar and kissed him. Dallas kissed back briefly, his hands on Ian's muscular chest, but then he pushed him away—not hard, but enough for Ian to get the idea and step back. “Sorry,” Dallas breathed. “I, uh, I'm really not in the best place mentally or emotionally to be screwing around.” He closed his eyes and took a breath. “Sorry.”

Ian groaned in frustration, paced away, and kicked an empty beer can. “I haven't been able to sleep because I keep thinking about you and your stupid tattoo.”

“I haven't been able to sleep because I am homeless, broke, and now that my semester over and my dining hall privileges are up, I don't know where my next meal is coming from, so excuse my lack of sympathy,” Dallas shot back.

Ian snorted. “I've pretty much never known for sure if there was going to be food on the table the next day, so—” He shrugged.

Dallas sighed. “Look, I'm not used to this. It's scary and it sucks.”

Ian nodded quietly. “Then why show back up?”

“Wanted to see you, wanted to apologize, wanted to talk.” Dallas swallowed. “I mean, I do like you. Call me old-fashioned, though, but I'm generally a fan of the whole courtship thing.”

Ian smirked at him. “You're old-fashioned.”

“Is that okay?”

Ian considered him a moment, then nodded. “Yeah.”

Dallas smiled. “I'm glad.”

“So, uh, since we're dating,” Ian said, leaning against the next pillar over and waggling his eyebrows suggestively, “wanna talk about your feelings or some shit?”

“Pretty much all different layers of stress,” Dallas said with a snort. “Need money, need a job, need to apply to scholarships cuz I am not going to be able to pay for next semester—I'm on academic hold. If I can get the money together I can resume next spring, otherwise I'm out.” He sighed, shrugged, and looked at Ian. “You got plans for college or…?”

“Heh. Hoping to get into Westpoint,” Ian said with a little smile. He shrugged one shoulder. “Not sure my family is too thrilled, but it's more of a plan than any of them have.”

“Military, huh?”

Ian nodded. “Marines.”

“Guess you haven't heard back yet?”

“Well, I haven't applied yet, so no.”

Dallas frowned. “You haven't applied?”

“I'm not graduating yet.”

“You're not?” Dallas's frown deepened and his forehead crinkled. “Next year then? You're a junior?”

“Actually,” Ian said carefully, shifting his weight, “I'm a sophomore.”

The color drained slowly from Dallas's face. “How old are you?”

Ian rubbed the back of his leg with the toe of his sneaker. “I'll be sixteen on the eleventh.”

Dallas put out a hand to steady himself against the pillar. “You're fifteen?!”

Ian pursed his lips and nodded.

Dallas ran a hand over his face. “You're, what, six foot tall? And you look like you could bench a Fiat! You cannot be fifteen.”

“I'm fifteen,” Ian said quietly, not looking at Dallas.

“I feel sick.” Dallas turned and walked a few paces away, both hands over his face. “I fucked a fifteen year old,” he mumbled to himself. “I'm so screwed.”

“Hey, it's really not that big a deal,” Ian objected.

“It's illegal!” Dallas turned to face him. “That's rape!”

“What are you talking about?” Ian laughed in disbelief. “I definitely did not tell you no.”

“You're underage!” Dallas said—he really did look like he might be sick, shit. “It doesn't matter what you said, you're too young to give consent.”

“I knew what I was doing!”

“The law doesn't care!”

“The law doesn't need to know!” Ian snapped. “No one needs to know.”

Dallas slumped against the pillar, slid down it, and hid his head in his knees. “I'm a child molester….”

“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Ian stomped over and hauled Dallas up by the back of his shirt. “Do I look like a child to you?” He kissed him roughly, briefly pressing their bodies against one another. “Do I feel like a child to you?” He let go and took a step back. “You seem to have plenty of actual bullshit to worry about, don't invent another problem for yourself, you dumbass. No one, fucking no one, is going to charge you with rape. What the fuck, man?”

Dallas shook his head. “I can't do this.”

“You already did.”

“I know!” He sucked in a sharp breath then gagged. He braced himself against the pillar to retch.

“Jesus Christ.” Ian reached out to rub his back but Dallas swatted his hand away.

“Please don't touch me,” he whispered, voice flat.

Ian took a step back. “Dallas….”

“Don't touch me.”

“I'll be sixteen next week,” Ian said with desperate exasperation.

“And you'll still be underage,” Dallas said, clearly still distressed.

“Nobody cares.” Ian held out his arms and shook his head. “Do you realize what neighborhood you're in? By thirteen, fourteen pretty much all of us drink, pretty much all of us smoke, and pretty much all of have had sex. You grow up fast when you grow up poor. Anybody found out we fucked, we might get our asses kicked for being fags depending on who it was, but no one around here would even think about how old I am. So chill out.”

Dallas leaned with his back to the pillar again, closed his eyes, dug his hands through his hair, and took a deep breath.

Ian walked deliberately over to him, letting his footsteps crunch in the gravel, gently disengaged Dallas's hands from his dark hair, twined their fingers, and pressed their foreheads together. “Chill out, okay?”

Dallas took another breath, nodded best he could against Ian's forehead, bit his lip, and sniffed, tears starting to roll down his cheeks. Ian sighed and hugged him.

“Sorry,” Dallas mumbled into Ian's shoulder.

“Shut up,” Ian said gently. He leaned his cheek against Dallas's hair. Dallas's shoulders shook and Ian tightened his arms around him.

“My sister told them,” Dallas blurted after a while.

“Huh?” Ian pulled back enough to look at him.

Dallas wiped his eyes. “My younger sister, she told my parents about me. We were all yelling at each other—me, my parents, both my sisters—fighting about everything and nothing, and my father said something to Indiana about her dressing like a slut—which is kind of true—and she said 'at least I don't go around sucking guys off in the back of my car like Dallas does.'” He gave a cold, thin smile. “Within an hour, they'd thrown me out of the house.”

“Shit,” Ian said.

“Yeah.” Dallas nodded and scrubbed his hand across his eyes again. “Sorry for dumping that on you. I just, hadn't actually told anyone what happened.”

“No, that's fine, but, dude, you've gotta stop apologizing so much.”

“S—”

“If you say you're sorry I sweat to God I'm gonna punch you,” Ian threatened, smiling.

Dallas snorted. “Okay.”

Ian grinned and kissed him quickly. “That's better.”

Once Dallas's eyes were a little less red, he and Ian walked back to the Gallagher house, elbowing each other along the way, a certain weight lifted between them. They stopped next to Dallas's Jag. He bounced on his toes. “I have a meeting with the financial aid office early tomorrow, so I should probably go back to campus.”

Ian nodded. “Right. But, you'll be around, right?”

“Yeah.” Dallas flashed a little smile, touched Ian's arm, let himself into his car, and drove away.

Ian stood on the curb, watched until the beat up SUV was out of sight, then sighed. For a moment, he was alone, then Fiona walked out to stand with him, Liam on her hip. “So,” she said, “that's your guy?”

“Yeah,” Ian breathed.

“He's cute,” she observed, shifting her hold on Liam, who was chewing on his own fist.

“Yeah,” Ian agreed.

Fiona nodded slowly. “So, is he black or what?”

“You know,” Ian said, “I have no idea.”

Her eyebrows ticked up. “Interesting.”

“Yeah.”

The next Wednesday was the eleventh. Ian came downstairs to find a slightly lopsided cake that Debs had gotten up at four that morning to make.

“You only get chocolate cake for breakfast because she insists,” Fiona said as she handed him a slice. “Happy birthday.”

Ian grinned. “Thanks.”

Lip smacked him in the back of the head. “Happy spawning day, loser.”

Ian grinned. “Thanks.”

He got wished happy birthday a couple dozen times at school, one of his teachers decided the whole class should sing to him, Mandy made a show of kissing him in front of everyone at lunch, but it was really a pretty dull day after the cake. At least, it was until he and Lip turned onto their street after school to find the red SUV parked on the curb and Dallas sitting on the steps of the porch, a parcel wrapped in newspaper balanced on his knees. Dallas stood as soon as he spotted them.

“You know what,” Lip said, clapping his hands once and rubbing them together, “Fiona's at work, Debs and Carl are still at school, V's got Liam, and I just realized I owe Karen a visit. Guess you'll be home alone for a while,” he said with overwrought regretfulness. “I sure hope you won't be too lonely.” He clapped Ian on the shoulder, turned, and walked off.

Ian opened his mouth to yell something after his brother, but he glanced at the house and Dallas standing in front of it, shut his mouth, squared his shoulders, and walked up to the porch. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Dallas said. He held out the newsprint parcel. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” Ian took the package. It was slim, rectangular, fairly heavy for its size, and felt solid. “Uh, here.” He unlocked the door and let them inside. “You really didn't have to get me anything,” he said as he re-locked the door behind them.

“I know,” Dallas said absently, looking around the room. He shrugged. “I wanted to.”

Ian grinned a little. He tore the paper off, his mouth fell open, he glanced at Dallas in profound astonishment, and turned the iPad over in his hands. “What the fuck happened to you being homeless and broke?”

Dallas grinned and shrugged. “I went to the unclaimed baggage store near the airport—paid thirty bucks for a suitcase with a seized up zipper and everything inside it. Got really lucky.”

Ian set the iPad aside, grabbed Dallas, and pulled him into a kiss. “You are insane.” He kissed him again. “Thank you. Holy shit.”

Dallas laughed, stumbling slightly from being grabbed. “I'm glad you like it.”

“Are you kidding?” Ian laughed incredulously. “My entire family shares a fucking flip phone. I can't believe this.”

Dallas smiled warmly.

Ian went to the table, touched the iPad adoringly, then looked up. “Hang on, thirty dollars is at least a week of food and you spent it on a suitcase. When's the last time you ate?”

Dallas held up his hands. “I needed clothes for warmer weather so I bought a suitcase, took all the clothes from it, and traded them in at Plato's Closet. It worked out. Sold the case and most of the jewelry I found in it. Kept the iPad and the charger for it—sorry I didn't wrap that bit, it's in the car. Also kept the bottle of wine and, uh,” he blushed hard enough for it to stand out against his freckles, “and the glass dildo.”

Ian stared at him then laughed. “Holy fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Seriously, though, when's the last time you ate?”

“Uh. Yesterday morning,” Dallas admitted.

Ian went to grab a bag of pizza bites out of the freezer. “What kind of wine?”

“Red.” Dallas shrugged. “I've never seen it before, it's called Velvet. Haven't opened it.”

“Huh.” He tossed a plate of pizza bites in the microwave. “...have you used the dildo?”

“Fuck no. I don't know where that thing's been.” Dallas crossed his arms. “I'm not touching it until I've boiled it within an inch of its life.”

Ian arched an eyebrow at him and pulled a pot out from under the counter, stuck it under the faucet, and turned the water on, all without breaking eye contact. Dallas glanced at the pot wide eyed. Ian got down two plastic goblets, still without looking away from Dallas. Dallas nodded once slowly, fished his car keys out of his pocket, and went to unlock the front door.

“Bring the jewelry you kept, too.”

Dallas looked over his shoulder and grinned. “Okay.”

He came back in with the iPad charger wrapped around his hand, the bottle of wine tucked in a mateless knee-high sock Plato's Closet hadn't wanted, the jewelry in his pocket, and the dildo bundled in a T-shirt he'd ruined at the laundromat. He dumped everything but the jewelry on the kitchen table. Ian handed him the plate of pizza bites, snagged one for himself and ate it. He'd set the pot on the stove. “So,” he said, carefully tugging at a loose corner of the T-shirt, “this is it?”

“Yup,” Dallas said through a mouthful of pizza bites.

Ian gave the shirt a sharper tug and it unbundled, rolling its contents halfway across the table. Ian blinked at it and swallowed, trying to keep his face from turning the same color as his hair. “That, is a big glass dick.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Prettier than any real dick I've ever seen.”

“Same.”

Ian used the T-shirt to grab the nine-odd inches of clear and purple glass and drop it into the pot on the stove. “Wine?” he asked, grabbing a corkscrew from a drawer. Dallas handed the bottle to him. “What jewelry did you keep?”

Dallas reached in his pocket and pulled out four pairs of stud earrings, which he held out in his palm for Ian to see as he poured the wine. One pair was white opals, one simple little silver balls, one kind of spiky black stars, and the last one tiny gold Deathly Hallows.

“So you do have pierced ears,” Ian said with a grin, handing Dallas one of the goblets.

“Mhm.” Dallas pocketed the earrings and sipped the wine. “Oh, hey, this is good.”

Ian took a sip of his own and blinked. “Tastes expensive.”

Dallas shrugged. “No idea how much it is but it's good.”

“Yeah,” Ian chuckled. He took another drink. “Why don't you wear earrings?”

“Parents hate it.” Dallas paused. “Guess that doesn't really matter now.”

“Not really.”

Dallas frowned, set down his wine, reached into his pocket, pulled out the opals, and put them in. He shrugged and looked to Ian. “Whatcha think?”

“I think I just realized I like boys with jewelry.” He downed the rest of his wine, came around the counter, and stepped up to Dallas. He touched his ear with the back of a knuckle then bent to kiss him. Dallas curled his fingers in the front of Ian's shirt, kissed him back, then pulled away. Ian sighed a little. “Still no?”

Dallas looked away, lay his hand on the base of his goblet, twisted it, then looked back up at Ian. “Lemme finish my wine and we'll see.”

“Fair enough.”

By the time the bottle of wine was empty, the iPad had been set up, complete with shiny new Apple I.D. for Ian, Dallas was glaring intensely at a free chess game they'd downloaded, and Ian had pot holders on both hands, fiddling with the dildo they'd recently decided was safe now.

“I took three years of chess lessons,” Dallas mumbled. “Can't tell if they were useless, or if wine and chess just don't mix.” Ian poked him in the ribs with the dildo. He glowered at Ian, who grinned. Dallas rolled his eyes.

Ian turned the dildo over in his hands. “Why'd you keep this?”

“Right now,” Dallas said slowly, setting the iPad down, “I can't afford to, like, by myself shit. I mean, sex toys don't count as essentials. I wasn't really hoping to find a dildo.” He shrugged, the slight flush he had from the wine darkening to an actual blush. “But if I didn't keep it and then I changed my mind and decided I did want one, I wouldn't be able to get one. So I kept it.”

Ian eyed him. “So, you'd actually use this thing?”

“Yeah,” Dallas said slowly.

“On yourself?”

Dallas nodded. “Well, yeah.”

“Weird.”

“It's not weird.” Dallas shoved his shoulder.

Ian laughed and shook his head. “You touch yourself like that?”

“Yeah. Don't you?”

“No.”

“Really?” Dallas asked, taken aback.

“Really,” Ian said. “I have never stuck anything up my own ass.”

“Never?”

“Never. Well, once,” Ian corrected himself. “But I don't think that time really counts cuz it was more just to see if I could, if that makes sense.”

“Yeah.” Dallas tucked his feet up under himself and turned more toward Ian. “Why not though?”

Ian shrugged and made a face. “I don't really like it.”

“Oh.” Dallas's face fell. “I didn't—I thought, I mean you seemed to, seemed to like it, I mean, when we—”

“Oh, yeah, no,” Ian said quickly. “I did. That's different. Kinda weird still—I'm usually top—but definitely not bad. Good, actually. It was good.”

“Oh, good,” Dallas breathed.

Ian cocked his head, frowning. “If you like stuff up the ass, why'd you insist I bottom?”

Dallas shrugged. “I wanted to fuck you and that's how I usually do that, so, yeah.”

“We both usually top.”

“Sounds like it.”

Ian chuckled. “Well, that's gonna be interesting.”

“Yeah,” Dallas agreed. He settled against the couch cushions. “Lemme guess, you're weird about having stuff stuck into you, so I bet you don't give head, either.”

“No, I do.” Ian crossed his arms. “Not a lot, but I do.”

“Prefer to get it than give it?”

“Uh, actually,” Ian scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “the only hummer I've ever gotten was from a girl and, uh, it wasn't great.”

Dallas blinked at him. “You've never been blown by a guy?”

“Nope.”

“Well, we've got to fix that,” Dallas said, sliding off the couch to the floor.

“It's okay,” Ian said, watching him, “you don't have to.”

“I want to.” Dallas flashed Ian a grin and started undoing his belt. “I actually like, you know,” he shrugged bashfully, “sucking dick. Call it another birthday present.”

“Uh, okay,” Ian said, letting Dallas tug his jeans and boxers down. No way he was going to argue with that. Dallas settled comfortably between his knees, stroked him a couple times, pressed his lips to the shaft in a kiss, then gave a long slow savoring lick. Ian cursed and balled his fists, a shiver running up his spine.

Dallas glanced up at him. “You can grab my hair if you want,” he said before giving another lick. He grinned a little. “I know it's weird to figure out what to do with your hands.”

Ian sucked in a sharp breath as Dallas mouthed at him wetly, hesitated, then dug his fingers into Dallas's thick, black hair. It was soft and getting long—he probably hadn't gotten his hair cut since they'd met. He grit his teeth and gave a soft tug as Dallas took him into his mouth. Dallas's eyes flicked up and met Ian's and Ian was struck again by the green and brown complexity. He shut his eyes. “Fucking hell.”

Dallas lay one hand on Ian's hip, his other fingers curled in the loose fabric of one of Ian's pantlegs. He hummed happily and did something absolutely unspeakable with his tongue that made Ian gasp. It didn't take long for Ian reach the edge and go over, yanking at Dallas's hair harder than he really meant to, cursing, and groaning. Panting, he let go of Dallas's hair and opened in eyes just in time to see Dallas lick his lips, wipe his mouth with the back of a hand, and smile up at him. Dallas bit his lower lip adorably. “Was that good?”

Ian nodded. “Oh yeah. Real good.”

Grinning, Dallas climbed back up onto the couch next to him. “I'm glad.”

“You actually really do enjoy that, don't you?”

“Mhm.” Dallas was still chewing his lip cutely.

Ian shook his head. “Why?”

Dallas shrugged. “I dunno; it's just fun for me.”

“Okay,” Ian breathed. He took a few more breaths then said, “You seem way less worried about my age now.”

“I decided 'm just not gonna think about that,” Dallas said, holding up one hand.

“Okay.” Ian took another deep breath and fixed his pants. He slumped back against the cushions. “Wow. Yeah. Fuck.” He glanced at Dallas. “And you just swallow like it's nothing.”

Dallas shut his eyes and bowed his head in embarrassment. “I kinda like how it tastes—I know that's really weird.”

“You're a freak,” Ian said, “and it's amazing.”

Dallas laughed and looked up at him.

“What color are your eyes?” Ian asked suddenly.

“Huh?” Dallas blinked a couple times.

“Like, are they brown or green?”

“Oh. Yeah, they're both. I mean, they're brown, but I've got green, like, starburst things around the irises, so, yeah, both.”

“That's different,” Ian said. “I like it.” Dallas looked down bashfully. Ian tilted his chin back up, studied him, then kissed him, not sure how he felt about tasting himself on Dallas's tongue. When he pulled back, he asked, “Do, uh, do you wanme to do you now?”

“Um. I mean,” Dallas said haltingly, “how much longer d'you think we have before your family gets home?”

“Oh, right, fuck.” Ian ran a hand over his face and through his hair. “I don't know.”

“Then, uh, no,” Dallas said. “I mean, quickies are fine, but they're more frustrating than fun, really, and I'd rather be able to, y'know, take my time? And I'd really rather not get walked in on.”

“Oh, yeah, definitely.” Ian sighed.

Dallas leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I'll go.”

“If I didn't have school tomorrow, I'd go with you,” Ian said softly.

Dallas smiled as he got up. “Maybe if you wanna hang out this weekend?”

“Yeah.” Ian nodded. “Let's do that.”

“Okay.” Dallas got his things together and gave Ian one last sweet, soft kiss before leaving.

The next two days of school were among the longest of Ian's life. Friday night, with Lip and Carl asleep, he pulled the iPad out from where he had it hidden with his porn, hid with it under the covers, and prayed it would connect to nearby wifi. It did. He grinned, opened Messages to the one contact he had, and typed: Dallas u up?

A few minutes passed and Ian had just about given up on getting a response when one came through: Yeah & lucky for you I have wifi. What's up?

Nm. Just thinking about you

Aw you're cute :P

We hanging out tomorrow?

Yeah I can pick you up?

Sure

When?

Morning? I'm not doing anything else

Works for me

Where u parked tonight?

Behind the school library That's how I have wifi

Cool

Ian heard Carl mumble in his sleep and he quickly locked the iPad, clutched to his chest, and peaked out from under the covers to make sure his little brother really was still asleep. He took a deep breath and ducked back under his blanket.

U use that dildo yet?

……..maybe Why d'you ask?

Just curious ;)

Just curious my ass

Exactly

You suck

Didn't get a chance to yet I take that maybe as a yes

Okay yes but your sex puns are horrible

Not sure those were puns But so you did?

I did You're trying to get me to write you porn

Maybe

That's a yes

It's a yes

There's not much to tell Tab A goes in slot B You know how it works Only tab A is purple and made of glass

Cmon Did u like it?

Yeah Thought about you

Really?

Yeah

Ian chewed on the inside of his cheek and curled tighter around the iPad.

Please tell me

I imagined it was you That you were kissing and touching me

I want to

I know you do Tomorrow

That a promise?

Maybe ;)

#fanfic #good intentions wip fest #shameless #Shameless US #ian gallagher #abandoned

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hauntednightmarekitty · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1

Luka

It's only the first day of school and I already want to stab everyone here. Class hasn't even officially started yet and I'm ready to go home and never come back. I put earbuds in for a reason, but nobody seems to get the hint. Leave me alone, I don't want to talk to you.

I open my locker and grab the books I need for class. I see my friend, Andi, striding up to me with a big smile. I try to hide in my locker like a stupid ostrich. "I have great news for you, Luka!" She giggles.

Andi is a petite Asian - sorry half Asian - girl with big brown doe and long straight hair that seems to be a different color every other week. Currently she's rocking pink orange and yellow hair that is done to look like a sunset. To be honest she's so pretty that she could probably get any guy that she wants. And you might be thinking 'it sounds like you have a crush on her!' Trust me, I don't. She's not my type. At all.

"What's your good news?" I ask without looking at her.

"There's a new guy in our grade and he's kinda hot."

"What's his name?"

"Sylas~ even his name is hot."

"What does he look like?"

"I think he's Latino, so you are both foreign hotties," she's probably referring to the fact that I moved to the states from France when I was 8, "he's got longish brown hair that he ties back," long hair is a weakness of mine, "plus he's wearing a really cool brown jacket, green tee, black jeans, and brown boots, so obviously the guy has a sense of fashion. Oh, and he's got gorgeous golden brown eyes that could capture anyone's heart."

I slam my locker shut. "You're seriously trying to set me up with a stranger right now." As you may have guessed by now, I'm gay, which is probably the reason why I'm not into Andi whatsoever. I'm not entirely happy about being gay, but I've decided to try to come to terms with it, but that doesn't mean I'm out.

"I thought you'd be happy about it…"

"Why would I be happy about you trying to steer my love life?"

"Because you seem lonely."

"I'm going to class." I start to walk in the direction of the English classroom, but Andi grabs my arm before I get far.

"I thought maybe we could go to the commons together, you've never gone in the past and I thought maybe this was the year."

I pull out of her grip. "I'm. Heading. To. Class." I turn and leave her by my locker. When I enter the English classroom, which is my mom's class, nobody is there. Which is a common occurrence since I get here so early. I glance in the mirror on the wall and run a hand through my curly undercut. My hair's a little crazy today, so I must've slept weird last night. I straighten my thick rimmed glasses and stare into my own ice blue eyes. I've always looked a lot different than my siblings, they all have dirty blond hair and hazel eyes. My hair is black and my eyes are nowhere near hazel. Even my parents are both blond, however my mom does have blue eyes, but they're darker than mine. Liam, my brother, always says that he thinks mom cheated on dad and got pregnant with me. Liam also says that he thinks that's the reason why we left France.

"Hey, Luka," my mom says. "Can you help me by putting one of these worksheets on every desk?"

Well, looks like class has started for me. "Yeah, I can do that mom."

Sylas

I can't believe that mom moved us to this tiny town from Portland. At the very least she had the smarts to move during the summer, but I never wanted to move at all. I liked my old school and all of my friends. I feel like a sideshow here. Everyone's staring at the new kid like I'm some kind of zoo exhibit.

Something tells me that this town doesn't get much drama or anything like that. At my old school we wouldn't have even noticed a new kid.

I grab my books and head towards the commons because mom says I should make the most of the free breakfasts here. I enter the commons and grab the, probably gross, breakfast and look around for somewhere to sit. I find an Asian girl sitting at a table alone and decide to sit with her.

She jumps and her eyes snap up to me. "You're new, right?" She mumbles and looks down at her phone.

"Yeah, I just moved here… I'm a junior."

"Me too," she still isn't looking up at me.

I smile and start eating my breakfast.

She abruptly gets up and mumbles, "I have to get to class…" and leaves.

She's probably going to go smoke weed in the bathroom. That's what kids at my old school meant when they said stuff like that.

I pull out my phone and scroll through Tumblr to pass the time before class. My first hour is English and I really don't want to go. English is my worst subject, which isn't saying much since I'm bad at pretty much everything.

Before I know it the bell rings and everyone is evacuating the commons to get to class on time. I sit and play on my phone for another minute because I don't want to get caught in the stampede of teenagers.

By the time I get up and start heading to class the late bell rings. I saunter into class and everyone looks up at me.

"Sylas, right?" The teacher asks me. She had dark blond hair tied up in a messy bun and ocean blue eyes hiding behind a pair of circle glasses. She'd be mad hot if she were about twenty years younger than she is.

"Yup, that's me," I grumble.

"I have you sitting next to Luka," she points at an empty spot right next to her desk. Of course she'd place me next to her.

I nod and slump down in the seat trying to get everyone to stop looking at me.

Luka is a pretty guy. He's got curly dark hair and ice blue eyes that could capture anyone's heart. He's got this nerdy look to him, but that makes him cuter.

He's hunched over a sketchbook and is drawing something. I glance over his shoulder at it and it seems to be a flag with the words 'gay pride' under it. Wait. He's gay, isn't he. That is so not cool. He better not hit on me.

He looks up at me and smiles. "Don't worry about Mrs. Moulin, she's harmless. Plus after today she'll go back to embarrassing me instead of you. She's my mom, so I'm usually the focus of her attention when it comes to embarrassment."

"Why are you talking to me?" I snap.

"I was just trying to make you feel better."

"Well, I don't need a 'mo trying to make me feel better. I can do that on my own."

He looks down at his sketchbook then back up at me. "I'm making a gift for a friend."

"Don't even try to make excuses."

He shakes his head and pulls a sharpie out of his pocket and starts doodling designs on his forearm. At least he's leaving me alone now.

Luka

Yes, I am doodling on my arm. Yes, I do know that it isn't the best habit, but it's better than the self destructive stuff I used to do when I got depressed and anxious. My therapist told me to try to create instead of destroy and that I was still doing something to busy my mind and it's been working pretty well so far, but she's worried that any little slip up could send me spiraling again. Which nobody wants with what happened last time… But it's been a little over a year, so I feel like I'm fine. Mom might even let me stop going to see my therapist soon.

The bell rings and Sylas gets up haphazardly gets up and bumps into me in the process. He glares at me like I'm the one that bumped into him and leaves. Rude. I shoulder my backpack and begrudgingly head off to my next class

During lunch I grab my lunchbox from my locker and sit across from Andi. She smiles at me and rests her chin on her hands.

"So, did you meet Sylas today?" She asks.

"Yeah. He's a jerk." I say.

"Really? I kinda liked him. He seemed nice."

"He's stupidly mean. He shrugged me off when I tried to talk to him in class."

"Maybe he was just trying to focus."

"You just wanna think the best of everyone."

Just as Andi is about to argue her point, Sylas drops his tray next to me and sits down.

"Beat it, freak," he grumbles around a bite of sandwich. When I don't move he shoves my food off the table and says, "I told you to get out of here, now leave. Or are you too dumb to understand what I'm saying."

"No, I've sat here for the last four years."

"Well, I'm sitting here now, so bye."

"Andi, tell him I sit here."

"I'm not getting in the middle of this," she whispers then silently picks apart her food.

"That means bye," Sylas taunts.

"Whatever." I get up and grab my stuff off the floor then leave to find somewhere else to sit. I see Liam sitting at a table alone and decide that sitting with him couldn't be the worst thing ever.

When I sit down Liam smiles at me, his gaze is unfocused and he is most definitely drunk or high. Or maybe both. Probably both.

"Hey, little bro," he says.

"Liam, are you drunk?" I ask.

"Yeah, and high. They cancel each other out, right? Because if not I'm screwed."

"They definitely don't cancel each other out. Did you even eat lunch?"

"What's lunch?"

Lucy skips over and hugs my shoulders. She's my older sister and Liam's twin. "Is Liam giving you trouble?" She asks.

"I would never trouble the little twink."

"Liam… how high are you?"

"6' 3" why?"

Lucy cringes and looks at me with as much pity as a teenage girl can manage. "Don't you normally sit with the colorful Asian girl?"

"Yeah, but the new kid made me leave."

"Why didn't you fight back?"

"Because it would just make it worse."

She sighs and ruffles my hair. "I'm sure you'll figure it out."

"So, Lucy," Liam slurs, "would you mind setting me up with the cheerleaders?"

"Which cheerleader? The answer is probably no, but I still wanna know who you're after."

"All of them. I want us to be one big happy poly family. Wouldn't that be just great?"

Lucy frowns and shakes her head. "I'll see you two at home. Luka, good luck." And she leaves to go sit with her cheerleading friends.

"So, Luka, would you rather have sex with a chicken or a monkey? This is a very serious question." I'm definitely going to need luck to get through this.

#tw drugs #tw alcohol #tw weed #tw depression #tw homophobia #tw bullying #haunted-writes #Lost-Boys #tell me if i need to tag anything else #let me know of any spelling or punctuation errors #luka is baby and needs protection #lgbtq+

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nodesiretogrowup · 5 years

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it’s time for my play-by-play review (put some breaks in so it’s not a giant wall of text):

“Here in Duckburg, life is like...a hurricane?” Ha ha theme song reference.

El Pato is Spanish for the duck and that amuses me. Although we call our version of that storm system El Niño, so shouldn’t it have been El Patito?

Mr. Chunk’s EXTRA CHUNKY Chili Chunks

“Could you give us a hand?” *All laugh* In hindsight, he probably should have helped them instead of using the time tub again. He’d still get in trouble for stealing, but he probably would have gotten a less harsh punishment.

“We should have plenty of food we won’t get sick of.” “I said sick from and you know it.” Classic kid logic.

Are the chili dogs a Sonic reference, since Ben is playing him in the upcoming movie?

“Chili dogs put the ‘hooray’ in ‘hooraycane’ party.” That was an awful pun and we should all be mad at Della for it.

“And we all get scurvy. Again.” This is why they need Donald home.

“Is that your parenting strategy or did you get that off a bumper sticker?” Beakley keeps in real.

Beakley and Della have a great dynamic this episode. I honestly think Beakley sees a lot of herself in Della and is trying to teach Della what she wishes someone had taught her when she had her own kid(s).

Louie pushing Huey to the center of the room so that nobody notices him leaving, smart.

“My brother’s gonna be a professional nerd.” Hooray for supporting your brother!

Mary Poppins-CONFIRMED MEMBER OF THE MCDUCK CLAN.

The wooden cane reminds me of Hop Pop’s

“That boy’s up to something.” Crazy thought here but maybe you should be proactive about that and follow him YOURSELF.

Launchpad never ceases to amaze me. How did he nail wood to STAINED GLASS?

That’s coming out of his paycheck.

“You’ve got your own tub?! Lucky.” GET THIS MAN A TUB, STAT!

I hope we get more Louie and Launchpad stuff. The way they play off each other is great.

Louie’s little presentation is great and runs on kid logic.

Bubba is adorable.

BWAMP. Nice sound effect.

“Time Treasures, a subsidiary of Louie Inc. It’s not a crime if it’s lost to time.” Cute, but I doubt that would hold up in court.

Also, did Louie’s plan/most of the episode remind anyone else of Bender’s Big Score? Bender pulled a similar scheme at the end, only his time traveling caused a rip in the fabric of space. So they got off lucky here?

I totally buy Launchpad keeping a shower cap and rubber ducky on his person at all times. I WANT HIM TO GET HIS BUBBLE BATH, DAMMIT!

“HEY COOL. A DEAD GUY!” Dewey, you really shouldn’t get that excited over corpses. I know Bubba is actually alive, but did they?

Webby, Bubba is taller and buffer than you. I don’t think he qualifies as a “little” guy.

I DEMAND to know about the times Scrooge was frozen in an iceberg! Is Webby counting the time he and Goldie were frozen together?

Metaphors and hypothetical situations don’t work on Della. Maybe it’s a pilot thing.

“HISTORY IS ALIVE!” I LOVE MY NERD SON.

I love when people meet someone who doesn’t understand them/speaks a different language, they think talking louder will help.

“He’s got a hat like a person!” Is that racist?

Of COURSE Dewey turns the hat backwards.

“Your Funky Fresh ways” These kids have watched waaaay too much 90s media. The little hip shimmy was great.

Chili dogs>tree bark

“Man, I am learning SO MUCH.” Me too, Webby. Me too.

Did the exchange between Louie and Launchpad about the ethical nature of Time Treasures remind anyone else of when Jim and Launchpad discussed Jim’s plan to get himself into the movie or am I seeing parallels where there aren’t any?

Louie went to the school of Katara. (Both agree it’s ok to steal from pirates)

NOTHING is ever 100% safe

Dewey reeeeeeally wants another sibling. I bet someone is gonna push his mom into the dating scene.

OG DUCKTALES REFERENCE FTW

Bubba-a lyrical genius

Launchpad looks SO LOST while all of this is going on. Though he seems pretty lost in the whole episode.

“At least make him wear a helmet.” Safety lessons!

“SHUT UBBA, MAN.”

“Don’t think about it too hard.” A rule of thumb when dealing w/ time travel.

Poor Launchpad is having an existential crisis.

And THAT is why we leave time travel to the professionals, Louie. Next time just ask Uncle Scrooge.

How did they make a graphic for Timephoon so fast?

Roxanne is salty, but of course the source is McDuck Manor.

I DEMAND MORE FRANKLOON. Maybe Fenton could write a musical about him. Sidenote: I REALLY WANT a Ben Franklin musical.

Bubba-an artistic MARVEL

Shimmy that board clean!

The little head stroke she gives Louie. MY HEART!

I...don’t think that is how to do math.

“I see how you turned this into a lesson in parenting and I’m impressed.” THAT’S HOW GRANDMAS ROLL.

Gyro-the most USELESS TWINK. I love him.

I love the way Bobby says “oh boy” for Louie.

“HE IS OFFENSIVE TO THE FIELD OF ANTHROPOLOGY!” Time travel in general is probably offensive to anthropology.

Is it wrong to enjoy Huey going FERAL AS FUCK? Because I thoroughly enjoy it.

Why would you listen to Dewey on research?

“Did you SEE that finger progression on that solo?”

Bubba-MASTER MUSICIAN! Also, KEYTARS ROCK!

“COME HERE, YOU HISTORICAL ABOMINATION!” Not saying Huey’s killed a man, but he knows how to and how to cover it up.

Pretty sure Webby and Dewey are trolling.

“Definitely not cloning an army.” I have SO MANY QUESTIONS.

Louie’s in hoodie-ville.

“He could be anywhen!” Time travel jokes.

I like that they all assume it’s Gyro at first. WHAT CRIMES HAS THIS MAN COMMITTED?!

“It’s one of the kids.” “I’ll get Dewey.” I could see Dewey stealing the time tub, but he’d just try and change the name of things into Dewey puns.

Ninjas,worse than termites-Scrooge Mcduck, 2019

MORE BEAKLEY/DELLA TEAM UPS PLZ

“Even good kids do dumb things.” And good adults. No one thinks Louie is a bad kid, but he was pretty dumb.

What was with the log?

SANTA TRAP

“Oh no, they may be French.” That line made me laugh.

Launchpad falling asleep when the tapestry was over his face-hilarious.

“Don’t ask.”

Launchpad-always asking the right questions.

“Thank you past and/or future me.”

I love Huey trying to make sense of Bubba.

“I hate this.”

Poor Huey.

Bubba-an amazing animal tamer

I really like how much Della admires Beakley.

Webby shouting “GRANNY!” T_T

So is that picture of Scrooge, Donald, and Della fighting pirates a time travel related adventure?

Hi Woody and Jessie

“I’VE IMMEDIATELY FAILED YOU.” Mood

Launchpad is so wise. But I think time is more timey-wimey, wibbly-wobbly, right Scrooge?

Della’s angry mom voice

The fight is cool.

“AH, ME SCURVY!” BRICK JOKE FTW!

Not the time for time travel logic, Dewey. Plus they seem to be coming from different countries so anywhere would still work.

Bubba-A HERO

“GO, YOU FREAK OF HISTORY!”

#youtriedLaunchpad

“EVERYTHING WE DO HAS ALREADY HAPPENED!”

Della shouting “KIDS” and Louie shouting “MOOOM” really hit me in the gut.

Let’s pour one out for Bubba.

I PRAY TO GOD someone writes fics about what each character was doing in the time period they ended up in.

Della was giving me MAJOR Joan of Arc vibes in that armor.

Yeah, this scene hurt. But it needed to be done. Louie still seems to think that it was all a good idea. He hasn’t learned his lesson yet.

That scene also reminded me of Merida and Elinor’s fight in Brave. Both sides have a point, but both went too far.

I’m glad Louie didn’t instantly accept his mom. It’s more interesting that way and feels real.

I love that Launchpad looks around at everyone before he reacts. He most likely knows nothing about the Spear of Selene incident so he has no idea of how hurtful Louie’s comment was.

Gyro had NO REACTION to any of that fight.

That broke poor Della.

“I went to the future. I’ve seen how the world ends.*pause* It was neat! See you there soon!”

I wonder why Launchpad was the only one who went forward in time. Could it play a role in stopping the invasion?

“Some people aren’t ready for the truth.” So wise.

Bubba-THE FIRST OF CLAN MCDUCK

#ducktales #dt spoilers

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kae-karo · 5 years

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knlalla’s fics of 2018

hello dears! now that the year’s coming to a close, i wanted to round up a quick post of all my fics from this year, please enjoy! i’ve highlighted my personal faves/the ones i’m most proud of :’) it’s been a wild year, so thanks so much to everyone for all your kind support!

one-shots

<2k

Phancakes (x) 1k (g) - the bois being domestic on pancake day (look okay we don’t have pancake day in america i have to live vicariously through dnp), insp by this tweet and the iconic vid no tw! just domestic fluff

did you make me a video for valentine’s day? (x) 1k (g) - Dan has a tradition, every year on Valentine's day he asks Phil the same question... no tw, minor angst

my talents include... (x) 1k (g) - Dan's whiny because Phil won't pay him any attention, so he sends out a passive-aggressive tweet. shoutout to @daliensgrandads on tumblr for bugging me to write this (instead of my current wip whoops) no tw, unless whiny!dan counts

Days like this (Security) (x) 800 (g) - Some days just aren’t good ones. tw depression

Balance (x) 1k (t) - Phil wants to post the bunk bed insta story, but Dan just wants to sleep. no tw

i missed you (x) 1k (g) - basically their history as told by dan no tw

the way you look tonight (x) 1k (g) - dan has a vid to edit. phil has other ideas. you have to listen to the way you look tonight by frank sinatra (youtube, spotify) whilst listening to this okay no tw

Chan (x) 1k (g) - insp by the anon that sent "demon hc: phil just chuckling fondly at dan thirsting over chan, while chan searches the bus and they’re both stood outside in pyjamas on the canadian border. idk, it’s just the kinda fond, secure bde that phil exudes these days" no tw

morning coffee (x) 1k (t) - inspired by the lovely anon who sent me "I dreamed Dan posted an insta story of Phil drinking coffee in bed and he was laying on his shoulder and I kept trying to show people how cute it was but no one cared, and when I woke up I remembered that you would care, and I realized it was a dream and now I’m a tad disappointed in my subconscious for trolling me." no tw

doing nothing often leads to the very best of something (x) 2k (g) - based on this (x) and a lil imagine i wrote (x) and expanded on so thanks to the lovely anon who originally sent "that pic phil posted of dan for his bday i think where dan is making a funny face and theres a nearly empty wine bottle in the background hhhhh that makes my demon heart drop" and to the lovely anon who asked for more! no tw

The House at Pooh Corner (x) 1k (g) - insp by the anon that sent "Full demon mode: Im just finishing up the Undertale series for the first time and all I can think about as Dan and Phil talk back in forth in their different character voices is how #blessed any future child of theirs is. Just imagine them snuggled up with a kid on each of their laps, reading Winnie the Pooh and doing voices for all the characters. RIP my heart." and the anon that sent "I've been having a really bad day. And something that I find really cute is imagining what Dan and Phil would be like as parents. (noting that you don't have to have kids ever to be a fulfilled human, just that people being good parents warms my heart). Hypothetically, what do you think it'd be like? I bet Dan would surprise himself by being a good dad. b/c he'd want his kid to feel free to be themselves and we all know he can be very protective when he needs to be." no tw, parent!phan

waffles (x) 2k (g) - phil goes to the 24hr diner with the hopes of seeing his favorite waiter (insp by me seeing a cute waitress at a diner. unfortunately none of the rest actually happened to me lmao) no tw, meet cute

it’s not living if it’s not with you (x) 800 (g) - dan and phil in bed at phil's parents' home, briefly reminiscing no tw

>2k

if we stopped shipping phan (x) 8k (g) - what would happen if the entire phandom just...stopped shipping phan? insp by this post about not shipping phan for a month cause they'd freak out. Happy Valentine's day, @phantasizeit! no tw, friends to lovers

sleepover in the moon room (x) 6k (g) - It's a tradition they've had for years (Note: this was written with the intent that it can be read completely platonically or non-platonically, whichever you prefer. It's not written to imply one way or another.) a platonic fic sorta lmao

printer error (x) 16k (m) - Dan's a fanfic writer who's desperate to meet the AmazingPhil, but one printing mishap could bring him closer to his idol than he ever anticipated. no tw, strangers to lovers with a bit of fic commentary

everyone knows that (x) 5.5k (g) - They fight more often than they don’t, but that’s just how relationships are. Everyone knows that. Phil bakes when he’s worried, especially when he's worried about Dan. And Phil bakes quite a lot. Dan hates that he's the cause of Phil's nervous baking, that Phil's always so stressed because of him, but Dan has a hard time feeling too bad when the outcome is a plate of warm cookies. no tw just some angst

The Seven Deadly Insta Stories (x) 7k (e) - A collection of seven short fics based on the seven deadly sins, as told in the form of insta stories dnp didn’t post. as a prompt from @phanfichallenge to post a fic every day this week, have my tour fic twist on the seven deadly sins!! no tw, tour fic(s)

i’d do anything to not be alone (x) 16k (t) - I don’t know why I bother waking up. It’s one of those nonessential activities, like eating or drinking or breathing. But I do it, because if I don’t, then nobody would water the plants. Phil left and Dan doesn't know why. But he has to take care of the plants, because Phil would be so disappointed if he came back and his plants had died. no tw, just lots of sadness n a bit of angst but it does, as always, end happily i promise

dark purple sky (darkness comes out to play) (x) 4k (e) - It’s not that he hates parties, it’s just that- well, no, he hates parties. And costumes. And showing up to parties in costumes, and showing up to parties decidedly not wearing costumes, and all the mumbled judgements that come along with doing so. And he hates sweets - really, the only things he does like about Halloween are the autumnal vibes and the cool weather, and experiencing those certainly did not require his friends dragging him out to some abandoned castle grounds for a half-assed late-night party. Or the one where Dan gets a blowjob from a complete stranger in the middle of the forest on Halloween. no tw really, strangers to lovers?, mostly just pwp

Properly (x) 10k (e) - Dan's been trying to take advantage of the all-hours pool for a late night swim, but some guy always shows up before him. no tw just pwp and some strangers to lovers

chaptered

Demons and Diners (x) 65k (m) - A broke Dan, on the run from his previous life, finds temporary shelter in an abandoned diner...for the night? tw depression, some blood mentions, but happy ending as always!

What day is it? (x) 32k (t) - It's the first day of the semester, and it's already gone to shit: Dan's late to his first class, finds out his mortal enemy, Phil Lester, is the TA, and gets rejected by the girl of his dreams, but at least tomorrow's a new day...right? Aka the one where Dan and Phil are stuck reliving the same day over and over and can't figure out why. no tw except some major angst, uni au, enemies to lovers

Axiom (x) 31k (t) - Axiom: a proposition that is not actually proved or demonstrated, but is considered to be self-evident and universally accepted. Dan's out for the umpteenth time at the bar for its weekly speed-dating night (not that they'd actually call it that). tw depression and a really cliche plot twist whoops but a happy ending, always

one second (x) 41k (e) - When you spend your life getting glimpses of a myriad of possible futures every time you get a little emotional, you tend to lose sight of reality, of the present; a bad day turns into a bad week because all you see are the worst-case futures. You get a little excited about something, things start to go your way, but then all you can see are the realities where things are even better. Life tends not to measure up. Or the one where Dan meets Phil on a plane, and maybe reality starts to become better than even Dan could predict. no tw really, strangers to lovers

slow-closing doors (x) 44k (t) - SECRETS, DRAMA, BETRAYAL (okay no betrayal dw). Phil's agreed to be an RA for his floor this year at uni, and he's determined to be the best RA ever - after all, this is these students' first year, he wants them to have the best year ever. Loosely inspired by Freeze Tag by Caroline B Cooney. tw minor violence nothing graphic just a lil scary, uni au strangers to lovers

Peter Phan (x) 37k (m) - Phil's woken in the middle of the night by a mysterious guy at his window who's intent on dragging him off on an adventure, and for some inexplicable reason, he agrees. Dan's stuck - quite literally - in his own head, and he's desperate for anyone to help him escape. Maybe, if he's lucky, that person could be Phil. He hopes it is. tw depression and suicide attempt, implied/referenced non-con, lots of angst, but definitely a happy ending, strangers to lovers

angel boy (x) 22k+ (e) - for the anon that sent "Oh fuck, now I need a smutty fanfic with twink!Dan taking it from behind with his angel wing tattoo (or real ones for that matter... actually, yes please, real ones. And Phil has a kink for being a bit rough with them... maybe Phil's a demon... fuuuck, someone write this for me?)" Aka the one where angel!Dan goes into a demon club looking for a bit of entertainment. no tw, my attempt at pwp turned into porn with a plot lmao

Sea Glass (x) 58k (t) - Phil arrives on the Isle of Man to house-sit at his family's cabin while it's repaired and sold. Except the cabin's in far worse shape than expected, and Phil's got to find somewhere else to stay no tw really but like i updated this a few times this year so i’m counting it

Exile (x) 172k (e) - Exile's a fucking bitch. Dan finds himself kicked out of town and searching for literally anywhere out of the rain - somehow, he must have just enough luck, as he stumbles upon a seemingly abandoned house in the middle of the forest. Except it isn't abandoned, and the resident isn't exactly...normal...

#phanfic

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unironicduncanstan · 5 years

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total drama / darkest minds au

some ideas ive got going for my au cuz im an angst lovign fuck,,,

so if you havent seen the movie or read the books the rundown is, every child/teen on earth starts gaining powers or (more often) dies in the process, their powers correlate to the color their eyes glow whenever they use it, government decides to put survivors in camps, story follows runaways, angsty YA dystopian adventure stuff ensues!

the main characters+powers i thought out so far are

courtney is green (supergenius)

duncan is blue (telekinetic)

izzy is red (pyrokinesis/fire breath basically)

gwen is yellow (electrokinesis/can manipulate electricity)

heather is orange (mind control/memory manipulation)

cody is also a blue but he cant control his powers very well yet and duncan is,, Not very excited to train him

i was thinking noah could be a sarcastic ass green and at first nobody even believes him when he says hes green bc every single smart comment is filtered through a layer of sass but when he starts putting effort in he actually becomes a good asset

timeline;

in the actual story theres quite a few big escapes from the camps so i imagine them all leaving at various points and finding each other later on

duncan and gwen (the two goths) team up in the escape and izzy finds them and kind of just,,,, doesnt leave

same with cody and noah later

finally theres courtney, who escaped on her own way before any of them did and shes doing jUSt FIne until they all infiltrate her hiding spots

and then theres heather who,,, they want to keep around bc oranges are considered in universe to be the strongest/most dangerous but they start to regret that decision, really fast,

backstories;

courtneys so smart that when she developed her powers hardly anyone noticed a difference. she only got caught when the govt really started cracking down on survivors

as soon as duncan got his powers he immediately started using them to get into trouble and thought it was pretty cool actually till all the government takeover shit started happening. in this universe parents are heavily encouraged to turn their kids in when they get powers and since his parents were cops (something im dragging into this story too) he just decided to run away from home, and still ended up getting caught bc again, he ca nnot stay out of trouble

cody got his powers while he was bedridden with the flu, so it was a pretty uneventful time but he thinks thats why his powers turned out so weak and hard to control

izzys so wild that her parents dont pay a lot of attention to her anymore (a hc i have for main universe izzy too r.i.p.) so her situation was pretty much the same as courtneys, no one suspected anything till govt officials showed up at her door and she blasted them out with a fireball

heather was actually the most freaked out by her powers and pretends to embrace them now because she likes the control aspect of it, but deep down she wishes she had gotten literally Anything else

gwen was also freaked out by her powers, she couldnt use any electronics without frying them and (much like the main electrokinetic character in tdm) had to wear gloves for a while to avoid destroying everything

noah just didnt. really care till he got to the camp and constantly got in trouble for mouthing off to the guards (greens have to do forced labor and arent even allowed to make eye contact with guards, you tell me that little twink wouldnt have his feet up on the table and be sayign shit like ‘since im so smart ive decided that this is bullshit and you should be working for me’)

relationships;

yall know i hate all the love triangle stuff so i just imagine duncney, similar to how it happened in tdi aka slow burn annoyance that turns into ‘oh no s/hes hot’

gwen and courtney are tight af bc thEy DesErVe ThaT FrIEnDSHip ,

izzy is also somewhat in the gal group and heather woudl rather die than associate with any of them

duncan is (begrudgingly) training cody to use his powers better so theyre,,,, al most fri en ds? ?

noah is more tight with these people than heather is but in a similar boat where hes just kinda. along for the ride and doesnt rly want to get close to anyone,,, feel free to turn that into a slow burn noco thing at your own discretion,

anyways thats all i got rn i wish i had the energy to write a fic or smth but i gotta get school done first so please humbly accept what my brain has compiled

#total drama #tdi #also im sure this goes w/o saying but if you like the idea you got full permission from me to do your own content with it !#and tweak things to your liking/add or change characters etc etc etc this is just my ideas for it so pls have at it!#theres more characters i wanted to add in too like dj and dawn and p much anyone on my favs list but hhh #there arent a lot of choices and in the actual story theres only like 4 main characters so its hard to imagine a rly big group #original

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jaemtens · 6 years

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Rescue (Chapter 2)

seventeen | junhao | side meanie / vernkwan | chapter 2 of 10 | 8.2k

tumblr links: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 ao3 links: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

written with @bulletproof-bad-wolf | updates every saturday morning

summary: When Soonyoung finally “agrees” to let Junhui get a dog for their apartment, he realizes that he needed something a little bit more than a puppy. Enter Minghao, the bona fide Bad Boy™ with tattoos and piercings. Oh, and he doodles puppies and kittens in their Probability and Confirmation class.

chapter 2: minghao

Screw that appointment with his college counselor -- he didn’t need to waste his time talking with Choi Seungcheol for the umpteenth time this semester. It wasn’t like his college counselor actually cared about him; the suave, faux-soothing voice Seungcheol liked to use during their “appointments” was just a ruse. Seungcheol probably just used them to stroke his ego, to make himself feel good that he was helping a troubled kid get through college and life in general. It probably made him feel like he was really making a difference in the world because he got a certified Loser like Xu Minghao to enroll at their prestigious top-tier institution. Minghao was already imagining their next admissions brochure: “If this Loser turned it around, so can you!” said the speech bubble next to Minghao’s half-smiling Generic College Student pose.

Minghao took a left, shuffling through the crowded crosswalk.

Screw Probability and Confirmation for being the biggest waste of his time ever. After the second class of the professor droning on and on and on about capital E Existentialism and John Locke, he lost total interest in paying attention to the lectures. He was 110% sure he could literally put anything on his written exams, and the professor would think that it was “insightful” and “profound,” to use his favorite philosophy buzzwords. This, despite the fact that his written exam would probably be 110% word vomit with those precise buzzwords.

He practically walked through some random dude, his shoulder pushing the other guy aside. He took a right.

It wasn’t like he didn’t write anything down during class. No, he had a half-page of semi-coherent notes with multiple words triply-underlined, probably because he heard the prof repeat them at least seventeen times. How do you even take notes in a philosophy class? Half of the lecture slides are just random pictures of random bronze statues of random Greek dudes who had some random ideas that they wrote in a random book 2000 years ago. The class was randomly structured with a nonsensical syllabus that emphasized random discussions that the same two students participated in with no goddamn end in sight every class. He learned more by doodling cats from the shelter.

Minghao swung another left, ignoring the senile-looking old dude playing harmonica on the street corner. No, he didn’t have any money, he thought, clutching the two dollars in his pocket.

And, most of all, screw Wen Junhui for existing. Of all the people who he could run into after class in a desolate hallway, it had to be Wen Junhui. Of all the people who could know about his lame-ass doodles, it had to be Wen Junhui. Of all the people who could invite him over to their apartment, it had to be Wen Junhui. And of course he did all of that while be the biggest freaking dork ever. It was Too. Goddamn. Cute.

He tapped his foot waiting for the next light to change. Minghao was impatient, but he didn’t know why.

Yes, you heard that right, random person tuning into Minghao’s inner monologue: Xu Minghao, the twenty year-old college student who wears leather jackets, has three tattoos, and five piercings, is in love with a twink like Wen Junhui. Are you surprised? He was too for about five minutes. When Jun walked into their first class together, he remembered actually perking up a little bit to check him out. He thought Junhui was so fucking cute with his sharp, bookish features, his messy raven-black hair, and his tall, lithe frame. Minghao was a master of playing it cool around people who caught his eye, but he knew deep down that he was seriously intrigued. Junhui ticked off all the boxes on the checklist entitled “Minghao’s Type.” It was only a matter of time before he fully admitted that Wen Junhui was half the reason he was distracted in Prob and Conf.

The light switched to green, and he crossed along with what seemed like the rest of humanity. He shoved his way to the right and switched directions yet again, his worn boots stomping down on puddles without much care.

So why did he snap at Jun? Why did he go against all of his feelings?

Minghao stopped again, staring down at one of the puddles. Nobody was around him -- it was quiet off of the main street.

He didn’t know. Half of him was so goddamn smitten. When Jun physically ran into him and immediately apologized even though it wasn’t his fault, when Jun stuttered in the cutest way possible, when Jun talked about how he liked his stupid little anime drawings -- god, Minghao just wanted to melt right then and there. But the other half of him knew it was fake. How did he know? He just knew, okay. It was inevitable. He knew that Jun didn’t actually like him, that Jun was just apologizing because he was scared of the weird guy with a bunch of piercings in his philosophy class, that Jun was just making fun of him when he talked about his chibi-kittens. He got so angry -- no, upset was the right word -- that he just wanted to walk away. He let his feelings flash in front of Jun, mostly just to push him away, He knew Junhui would hate the real Minghao, so he just made it easier for both of them: push him away before Jun learned too much about who he really was.

A single raindrop splashed in the puddle he was staring at, the ripples distorting his features. Shit, it was starting to rain. Minghao ran his hand through his dark hair, wondering where he was; he had been walking aimlessly for what seemed like an hour.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, recognizing where he was. He didn’t want to be here of all places; what if Jeonghan was here? He searched frantically, analyzing each street corner while licking his lips nervously. Swarms of people were coming and going along the main road, so it was hard to see. He crossed the street he was on to get a better look; Jeonghan had long blonde hair the last time he had seen him, but who knew what he looked like now. All he knew is that he did not want to talk to him today of all days. Giving up, Minghao ducked inside one of the convenience stores.

He licked his lips again, feeling out of place. Convenience stores were always a little overwhelming, so much crap packed into such a small space. He hated squeezing past people to get through the narrow aisles… everybody always gave him weird looks, and he would always just tut back, rolling his eyes. They were probably judging him because of his tattoos and piercings while they went about their boring day during their boring life. He normally hated normal people -- why did he like Jun then?

Ugh, focus, Minghao. Why did he go to the convenience store again? He jammed his hands into his pockets, immediately feeling the two dollars again. Oh, right: food. That’s why he was here despite his undying hatred of convenience stores. Luckily, it was pretty empty. He didn’t even need to go search for what he was looking for; why was he so worried? Why was he so on-edge?

He grabbed a Snickers bar and a pack of gum, shoving them toward the clerk at the counter, who scanned them both.

“Three dollars.”

Minghao reached into his pocket, pulling out only two.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Um, I’ll only take the candy bar, I guess.”

The clerk sighed. Apparently he didn’t get paid enough to deal with this. At least he was getting paid, Minghao thought to himself.

“Two dollars.”

Minghao shoved his cash down on the counter, grabbed his candy bar, and didn’t wait for the receipt before darting out of the store. He shoved the Snickers bar in his jacket pocket and checked his phone: 1:52. He only had eight minutes to make it to the shelter; Minghao knew he was going to be late. He threw his hood over his head, and ducked back into the crowds of people. Hopefully Dokyeom didn’t chew him out this time.

Why would Dokyeom chew him out? Dokyeom was literally the least confrontational person ever, and, honestly, it seemed like he was just happy to get the extra help at the shelter. Who cared if Minghao showed up ten minutes late -- he was a volunteer anyways. At least, that’s how he rationalized showing up late to himself.

Yes, Xu Minghao, the leather jacket-clad street-certified bad boy volunteered in his free time. Where, you might ask? At the pet shelter of course. Street trash was his name and cats and dogs were his game. His sidekick?

“Hao-hao, you’re late!”

Don’t even ask.

“Not today, Dino,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. He knew he should have entered through the back -- the bell at the front was dead giveaway. Not that it would’ve mattered much anyways: Dino was going to annoy him eventually.

“Oh come on, Minghao,” Dino protested, shooting Minghao a fake-hurt look. “What if I told you I brought you ramen today?”

Minghao stopped. He thought about how hungry he was and how that Snickers bar wasn’t going to be enough. Dino liked to bring him food: at first, he used to refuse until Dino finally convinced him that it would be going to waste if Minghao didn’t eat it. He sighed, and Dino knew then that he had acquiesced, a big smile breaking across his face.

“Fine--”

“--Let me grab it, Hao-hao!” Dino interjected before Minghao could finish his long, exasperated concession. He shook his head while Dino abandoned the front counter, running back to his bag to grab what was now half of Minghao’s lunch. Snickers and instant ramen? He’d had sadder lunches, believe it or not. Or no lunch.

“Here you go,” Dino announced, putting the cup-ramen back on the counter.

“Thanks, kiddo,” he replied, ruffling Dino’s hair as he headed to the small employee “lounge” as they affectionately called it. “We can get started on our usual routine after I eat, okay?”

Dino nodded in response.

In reality, the “lounge” was no more than small round table with two chairs, a microwave, and a mini-fridge that no one but Dokyeom used. Minghao threw his ramen cup in the microwave and let it heat up for two minutes.

Their pet shelter certainly wasn’t one of the largest in the city, but it served its purpose. About two dozen dogs and cats called this shelter their temporary home. The obvious goal was that these cats and dogs would be adopted, or, more accurately, rescued, by a loving and caring owner. Of course, practically that didn’t always happen. Minghao formed connections with most of the adoptable cats and dogs, serving as their primary day-to-day caregiver aside from Dokyeom. Dokyeom was technically his boss as the only employee of the shelter who was actually paid; he was a mix between an administrator, who managed the day-to-day paperwork and things like that, and also a vet tech, who could perform basic check-ups for the days when the actual vet wasn’t in. Minghao was a senior volunteer, devoting lots of hours at the shelter. It was like his home. Volunteer was a bit of a misnomer too -- Dokyeom did pay him a little each month, just not nearly at minimum wage. It was an arrangement that Minghao was okay with, considering how much he worked here. Finally, Dino was the newest volunteer; Minghao and Dokyeom had just finished formally training him. They were quite the team: Dokyeom was quiet, supremely qualified, and a little mopey, Dino was bright, enthusiastic, and sunshine-y, and Minghao? Well, Minghao was Minghao. Jaded and a bit sarcastic around people, but soft and caring with the two-dozen pets under his care.

The microwave started obnoxiously beeping, signaling that his food was done. He carefully removed the ramen cup, fished out a plastic spork, and took his Snickers out from his jacket pocket. Bon appetit: gourmet meals by Minghao in two minutes.

Dino must have been distracted with something else because usually he bothered him 24/7 once he walked in the door.

“Hao-hao!”

-- he spoke too soon.

“How was your day? How was class?” Dino was standing in the doorway to the lounge, halfway between the employees-only area and the front desk.

“Boring,” Minghao replied. He fished out a spoonful of ramen, blowing on the noodles to cool them down.

“You always say that!”

Minghao shoved the ramen into his mouth and started talking while chewing: “Because class is always boring.”

“C’mon, Hao-hao. Something interesting must’ve happened,” Dino insisted, not missing a beat.

Minghao scooped out another spoonful of ramen. He thought about his encounter with Junhui earlier, made a face, and then decided to lie.

“Literally nothing interesting happened, Dino.”

“Nothing? Nothing at all?”

Minghao swallowed. “Well, now that I think about it…” he started, watching Dino’s eyes light up in anticipation, “I did run into this annoying kid at the shelter who wouldn’t leave me alone during lunch…”

Dino frowned. “Not funny, Hao-hao.”

Minghao just smirked in response, going for more ramen.

“You’re literally the most interesting person I know, how can nothing ever happen in your life?”

Minghao? Interesting? He scoffed in response. “You only see me on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when I have Prob and Conf. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are more interesting,” he explained.

“Okay, well what happened yesterday?”

“Got an A on my dance practical.”

“Really? That’s great! Good job, Hao-hao!” Dino held up his left hand for a high-five. Minghao was still in the middle of eating, but he decided to humor his friend, fist-bumping Dino’s open palm while slurping down his last spoonful of noodles. Dino just made an amused face in response.

“It’s not that impressive,” he elaborated, tossing his spork in the empty ramen cup. “They’re starting us off with real basic stuff, and I wish they’d just move onto harder things already. I get that this class is a pre-req or whatever, but come on.”

“I’m--”

Before Dino could start saying much, the bell at the front rang, meaning someone (Dino) had to take care of it.

“You got it?” Minghao half-asked, half-suggested, waving his Snickers bar at Dino.

“Yeah!”

Dino disappeared back to the front desk, leaving Minghao to eat his Snickers in peace. Still, he listened in, half-concerned that it might be something that Dino wasn’t comfortable handling on his own. He unwrapped the candy bar took a large bite, demolishing the first-third of the Snickers.

“How can I help you?” he heard Dino say from the front.

He took another bite. So far, so good. He could hear the customer respond, but he couldn’t make out the words. It sounded like a guy, though.

“I’m sorry, sir, we only work with cats and dogs.”

Minghao rolled his eyes. Did someone bring in their pet hamster again?

“You talked to Dokyeom about it this morning?”

He definitely did not, Minghao thought to himself. This was going to get out of hand; Dino was too nice, he wasn’t going to turn the visitor away like he was supposed to. Minghao left his candy bar on the table and headed to the front desk; he was so ready to turn this random dude and his hamster away.

“Dino, what’s going on?” he asked, standing next to his shorter friend at the front desk. He sized up the guy who Dino was dealing with. He couldn’t be much older than either him or Dokyeom, and he was holding an opaque pet carrier that was far too small for either a cat or a dog.

“Um, he says that Dokyeom agreed to see his chinchilla.”

He made a face -- oh, even better than a hamster.

“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Minghao muttered.

“Look,” the other boy started, his voice a good octave below either Minghao or Dino’s, “I swear I talked to Dokyeom this morning, and he agreed to look at Buttercup.”

“Its name is Buttercup?”

“Her name is Buttercup,” the boy corrected.

“Look, buddy, we only work with cats and dogs here. I can give you the phone number and address for our vet runs an animal clinic downtow--”

“--Hansol?” Dokyeom interrupted from behind them. Minghao and Dino spun around at the same time; apparently Dino was equally shocked that Dokyeom agreed to see a chinchilla, of all things.

“You know this dude?” Minghao asked.

“Yeah, we spoke on the phone this morning,” Dokyeom explained, shifting his focus back to Hansol. “And I’m guessing this is Buttercup? Come on back.”

Hansol nervously smiled in response, and Minghao turned back toward Dokyeom. “Since when did we start seeing chinchillas, DK?”

“Right in here,” Dokyeom said, directing Hansol and Buttercup into the small examination room. Minghao’s de facto boss then turned his attention back to him: “Look, he couldn’t afford to go to the vet, and he sounded really worried.”

“Yeah, but you don’t even know how to spell chinchilla, not to mention medically examining one,” Minghao protested.

“C-H-I-N-C-H-I-L-A,” Dokyeom spelled, “and I’m taking a night class on rodent health this semester, Hao.” With that, Dokyeom turned around, heading to the examination room that Hansol and Buttercup were in.

“It’s two L’s, dumbass!” Minghao called out just as Dokyeom closed the door. Minghao shook his head and turned his attention to Dino: “I swear to god,” he complained.

Dino just smirked in response. “I’ll start tidying up the front while you finish your candy bar?”

“Oh, shit.” He ran back to the lounge, shoved the last third of the candy bar in his mouth, and threw out the candy wrapper, ramen cup, and spork before returning to the front. Dino had already moved onto tidying up the front area of the shelter, which doubled as a waiting room and play area. The couches were a little worn and had several tears on the cushions, but it was expected when you think about just how many meet-and-greets they facilitated in the front. Every time a visitor wanted to adopt a pet, they would have to sign in with the front and wait until either Minghao or Dino brought out the dog or cat they were interested in. They had cat toys in one bin and dog toys in another, and it was their job to supervise the adopter-adoptee interaction. Minghao explained it to Dino like this: it was as much about how the pet fit the adopter as the how the adopter fit the pet. Minghao and Dino were there to be the rescue’s advocate, to make sure that they wouldn’t just end up right back in the shelter because the adopter was a poor match. Minghao was perhaps the fiercest advocate. He hated having dogs and cats at the rescue longer than they needed to be there, but he thought it was even worse for a rescue to get a taste of rescued life just to return back to the gutter of shelter life -- or, even worse -- street life. It was heartbreaking. At least he and Dino could take care of them to the best of their ability.

By the time Minghao got back to the front, Dino had already picked up most of the toys and returned them to their respective baskets. Minghao picked up some of the worn-out pillows that were strewn about the floor… Dokyeom must’ve had a lot going on this morning.

“Cats first?”

Dino nodded in response, and they went to the back of the shelter together.

“I’ll do social first,” Minghao announced. Dino nodded again.

It was so much easier when they had two people to work the cat room: one was the “social,” or the person who handled the cats, and the other was the “cleaner,” or the person who replaced the litter and refilled the water and food. Minghao was going to be the social first, which was arguably the better job. It was essentially five minutes of cat handling -- times six, until they switched. Usually they went smoothly.

Usually.

Minghao removed the first cat, a black-and-white tuxedo, and cradled her in his arms. She was dying for attention, pawing at Minghao’s face. Dino chuckled, dumping out the old litter into a waste bag. He pulled out the bag of fresh litter, and he refilled the mini litter box. Dino then grabbed the gigantic 25-pound bag of food, starting to pour out kibble into the tuxedo’s food bowl. Just then, Minghao heard the bell in the front ring, and he looked at Dino. Without missing a beat, the younger boy shoved the heavy bag of food into Minghao’s free hand and disappeared to go take care of the visitor at the front desk. Minghao wasn’t weak, but Dino gave him the bag at a weird angle, and he was forced to let it fall to the ground. Kibble spilled out everywhere, all of the cats were meowing, the tuxedo squirmed her way out of his arms -- it was a total mess.

“Why didn’t you put it on the ground, Dino,” Minghao muttered, massaging his temples. “No-no-no, don’t go for the kibble on the floor.”

The tuxedo was going straight for the kibble, the rest of the cats meowing up a storm. Minghao groaned, quickly picking up the tuxedo and throwing her in her cage. “One moment,” he whispered.

Minghao started scooping kibble up off of the ground, crouched over with the waste bag at his side.

“What happened here?” Dino asked from behind him.

Minghao sighed again. “You happened.”

They made it to through the rest of the cats without incident (Dino was a little more timid with them, having been scratched one too many times), though Dino was reluctant to put away his last furry friend. She was the friendliest of the bunch and loved to nuzzle up her face into Dino’s while he was holding her. Honestly? It made Minghao so happy to have someone else around who loved cats and dogs as much as he did. He may have been all tattoos and piercings on the outside, but he was a big softie on the inside. Dino put his last friend back in her cage once Minghao was done cleaning and refilling the food and water.

“I have to go study tonight, Hao-hao,” Dino announced, checking his phone. “I have an exam in two days, and I’m not ready for it.”

“Yeah, sure, I’ll take care of the rest,” Minghao replied. “Good luck if I don’t see you before then?”

Dino smiled in response, his eyes forming into little crescents. Dino went back to the lounge to grab his belongings, but not before pushing Minghao’s buttons: “You’re cute when you care, Minghao.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Minghao waved him off dismissively, turning his attention to the dogs. Before he could even get to the first one, her tail wagging in anticipation, he heard the bell ring at the front. “Already?” he murmured to himself.

“One moment!” he hollered to the front. He brushed off all the cat hair on his jacket and pants before moving out front where he could help who he hoped would be the last visitor of the day.

“Hey, how can I help yo…” His voice started trailing off as soon as he realized who he was talking to. “Junhui?”

“Minghao?”

“What are you doing here?” he asked, moving behind the front desk. Was he actually here to adopt? Or did he find out where Minghao spent most of his free time? How much did Junhui know about him?

“W-what are you doing here?”

Junhui seemed genuinely confused to see Minghao here, so maybe he really was just here to adopt?

“I asked first,” Minghao retorted. He kept his facial expression steady while Junhui just stood near the front door, seemingly still in shock.

“I… I was dropping off… an application. I wanted to a-adopt.”

“Hmmph,” Minghao replied. “I can take it.”

“O-oh, yeah, just give me a sec,” the taller boy murmured, putting his messenger bag down on one of the coffee tables near the couches.

Why?

Why here? Why now? Why him, of all people?

Why did Junhui have to be so goddamn cute all the time!? The way he stammered out responses, the way he fumbled through his bag looking for his application, the way he always seemed so nervous around Minghao… it was too much. He just wanted to scoop Jun up into a hug and not let go -- sure, Junhui might have been taller (and older, too), but the way Junhui seemed to get so… timid? At least, he always seemed so unsure of himself around Minghao. Was that just how Junhui normally was? Or was Minghao special?

“Here you go,” Junhui said, interrupting Minghao’s train of thought. He was holding out his two-page application, and Minghao took it wordlessly. Looking through the app to make sure everything was filled out correctly, he couldn’t help but notice how… pretty Junhui’s handwriting was. It was free and elegant, just like how Junhui was when he walked through campus. Nothing like the Junhui right now, who stammered and stumbled through his words, sentences falling out in jumbles. Minghao set the paper down and looked up; Junhui looked away, like he had been watching him carefully before Minghao’s gaze met his. Maybe Junhui was just intimidated by him?

“Our administrator will look through this and call you once everything checks out. After that, you can come back and meet some potential rescues that we think match your application. Anything else?”

“You -- you never answered my question.”

“Hmm?”

“You work here?”

“Volunteer, actually,” he tersely corrected.

“Really?”

“Surprised?”

“Y-yeah, kinda.”

Minghao sighed. Yes, surprise-surprise, the boy with tattoos, piercings, and leather jackets who slept through class also doodles cats and works at a shelter five days a week. Even if Junhui thought he was cool when he was a bona fide bad boy, he surely just thought he was a total loser now that his façade was falling apart. Ha, you thought Xu Minghao rode a motorcycle to school and hadn’t cried in eight years? Joke’s on you, he plays with kittens every other day.

“Alright, well, if that’s it--”

“--Actually, I did have a question about my application…” Junhui interjected, this time looking directly at Minghao with his big brown eyes.

“Okay.”

“So, um, my apartment only allows me to have dogs that weigh under 30 pounds. Do you have any smaller dogs right now?”

Minghao ran through their current rescues in his head. He couldn’t help but start thinking about which of their current rescues would suit Junhui, which ones he would trust with someone like Junhui… which one would be happiest with Junhui.

“Yeah, I’d say we have at least three or four that are under 30 right now.”

Junhui just smiled in response. Minghao thought he was going to melt, but he couldn’t smile back. He knew Junhui was probably just being polite.

“Thank you for your help,” Junhui finally replied. “And I guess I’ll see you in class on Thursday?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

Junhui just smiled again, grabbed his messenger bag from the coffee table, and exited without another word, leaving Minghao alone with two-dozen rescues and a whole lot of feelings. The one thought he couldn’t shake?

That he wasn’t good enough for Junhui.

#seventeen #svt #junhao #junhao fic #seventeen fic #jun #minghao #junhui #xu minghao #the8 #wen junhui #my writing #rescue #junhao fanfic #seventeen fanfic #svt fic

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