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#anyway i have some things written that just need editing
stardust-falling · 1 month
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Me: I'm going to get some creativity done!!
Me, a few days later: Mental Health Nosedive
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hallwyeoo · 1 year
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Ellie’s memory of the golfing scene and what it tells us about her.
🚨spoilers for tlou2🚨
I think Ellie’s flashback to Joel’s death is very telling of how she internalized the event and the meaning she applied to his death. It’s also a good demonstration of her relationship to autonomy. Let’s break down the elements that were inconsistent with the actual event:
The stairs/hallway are much longer than they were. This suggests a sense of helplessness, an inability to get there fast enough. Joel is constantly out of reach.
There is blood on the floor outside of the door. Not entirely certain on this one but my hunch is that she blames herself for not seeing more obvious signs of violence/not knowing something was wrong sooner.
The door is locked, another roadblock in her path to Joel. She can’t access him, she can’t help, he needs her and she isn’t there.
Most importantly. Joel yells “Ellie, help me” (which he didn’t in the actual scene, he just screams. He doesn’t say a word in the actual scene)
Ellie hearing Joel scream for her help, calling for her while being horribly beaten, and her being repeatedly impeded on her way to him suggests that what she took away from his death is that she wasn’t enough. They always helped each other, always had each others backs, always got up. Ellie views his death as a failure. She was too slow, too weak, not smart enough to save him. She failed him when he needed her most. She is absolutely helpless to save him, just like she was helpless to save Riley, Tess, Sam, and Jessie (and Marlene, and humanity, and and and-).
Once again, Ellie makes a decision (staying with Riley, going to the fireflies, staying with Joel, being the cure, trying to forgive Joel) and once again her autonomy and ability to find closure is ripped from her.
This is the inciting incident of tlou pt2, this is the moment where Ellie’s whole world shatters the same way Joel’s did at the start of pt1. Ellie enters into the same cycle (which I like to call the “Joel cycle” because… yeah.) that he did, and throughout pt2 she stays in the “20 years later” phase of the cycle. She is changed, she has lost her light, lost what she fought for. She lost her chance to genuinely forgive Joel and rebuild their relationship. She is stuck in a gruelling and violent world that she has no anchor in, at least not anymore. His death is so sudden and so incredibly violent that it practically gave her (and me as well, tbh) whiplash. She’s in a state of total shock.
On another devastating note, this is one of the three times in tlou that we see Ellie beg (that I remember). The first is begging Joel to get up at the university of Eastern Colorado, the second is begging him to get up and for Abby to stop, and the third is begging Abby to not kill Dina because she’s pregnant. (Two times she begs Joel to get up, one time he doesn’t. Two times she begs Abby to spare her family and one time she does. What a beautifully haunting contrast)
To wrap up, every person creates an internal narrative, a story of their life that is crafted from their context and lived experiences. The meaning we derive from those experiences doesn’t always reflect the truth, and that can sometimes bite us in the ass majorly when we experience a traumatic event. We tend to want to find someone or something to assign blame to, some reason or rationale to why it happened. We tell stories. We write them in our minds about ourselves and what happens to us and what that says about us.
But Ellie is wrong. Joel’s death happened in response to a conscious and willing choice he made. It is in no way her fault, and there was absolutely no way for her to know or to stop what was happening. I think Ellie knows that much on an intellectual level, It just doesn’t change how devastated she is over the whole event. It can’t change the fact that she FEELS as though this was all her fault, that Joel did what he did to save her, that she could have saved him. That she should have.
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nomaishuttle · 8 months
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comparison (new on left old on right)
#As you can see i was mainly working ln fixing the distortion on the poles i did get a bittt carried away and add like a ton of oand but its#ok. also i did the math and its sitting at abt 40:60 land water ratio#rly its 41:59 but 40 60 is far easier#ive also still got to add rivers.. i have a few lakes as you can see but i haven't gone through and added rivers yet#ill probably have to do mountains first then rivers....#ive also been thinking abt making a sideblog solely for worldbuilding posts but im shy LOL so itd probably judt be 4 me#i wouldnt be opposed to sharing it with anybody whos interested i just dont think anybody rly is...#im also working more on the language its kiiiind of rly frustrating me..#i also have gaught to add a new island in the middle of the ocean bc ive been thinking while at work. but idk if i Actually want to use#those thoughts 4 this or keep them seperate.. whatevrr#but yeah. as mentioned the edits arent perfect yrt theyre kind of difficult to do 😭😭 map to globe doesnt allow you to draw directly On#the globe and the umm. sketch thing they have is kind of rlly annoying#like you can colorpick Once. but after that you have to reload the page to colorpick again#+ the likee. drawing you do on it is super artifacted and weird... + theres no way to just get the finished image idt. i may be wrong#but yes. anyways if i do make the sodeblog i wanna name it after the world but the issue is the world doesnt have a name 💀#and to make the name i need to work on the primary conlang some more 😭😭😭 but its frustrating me i think its bc i started with the#written form which like. every guide im looking at says you shouldnt do that 💀#so i might just scrap it and start from the ground up
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maemil · 2 months
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God, I was getting annoyed with some choices the writers started making a bit after the halfway point of Batgirl (2000), only to be informed that this was pretty much exactly when Kelley Puckett stopped writing.
#i see what you guys meant when you said he did it best agsjdk#to be fair i really enjoyed testline. which was right after puckett left but that may also be my bad case of the stephs#i am still reading. its not like end of the world stuff. theyre just kinda making bruce worse & have been focusing *hard* on her & boys#like issues 39-45 have on some level themes regarding her relationship with either superboy or this one random villain or guys in general#she feels hella lesbian coded for a lot of it tbh like she does not seem comfortable with dudes checking her out ever shdkjdk#but thats just making it more annoying because im like 'free her or make this an actual exploration of comphet (never gonna happen)'#i have a feeling the problems with bruce are gonna be resolved with them kicking each others asses which normally im all for but not rn#i just feel hes being written worse than the writers think he is which just makes things frustrating#especially when his level of shittiness up to now felt pretty ideal. but theyre also making her dad worse. ig to make bruce look better :/#batgirl (2000)#mae reads comics#edit: it is looking like 48-50 will be bruce problems. 51-52 is horny. and then we hit robin!steph which will make me hate bruce more oh god#hopefully theres some interesting parts in the bruce problems section i genuinely dont hate them having conflict. but RIP#after that is like two events shdjdk i might need to take a break from batgirl for a min#its been my go to fun comic for a while but i do have to pace myself with those anyway#and ill ruin the good stuff im sure *will* show up later if i go into it grumpy because of change
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amandabe11man · 5 months
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had the most insane dream about how Saw XI would go and it was so spectacularly bad that it reminded me of reading SNK's last chapter 😭 there was one cool part, but it was made pointless a couple minutes later
#saw#EDIT: apparently Saw XI has now been announced???#bruh i had a prophetic dream#anyway there were so many components to this dream that even if I had written it down right after I woke up-#- I still wouldn't be able to convey it properly lmao#but uhh let's just say i knew i was in a theater watching this with a bunch of other people#but it was still as if we were all like- 'in' the movie watching everything take place??#anyway it all happened in a cathedral and a lot of previously dead characters were now alive (namely: adam)#and john was like the preacher or something but he acted less like himself and more like one of those crazy street preachers#and idk it's hard to explain but looooots of people were there and most of them seemed pretty into it#there were a whole lot of weird comedic lines and immature humour in there too (again: SNK 139 war flashbacks)#i even think there was some slapstick in there?? lmao#*insert weird-ass details I no longer remember*#and tHEN a big-ass fight/battle royale type thing happened near the end for some reason#(and yeah this whole 'movie' took place inside the cathedral. all goffik n shit)#there were also some characters/people there that looked so out of place they clearly had nothing to do with the Saw-franchise too#okay and here's the start of the ONE cool part:#so once again it seems that fate has pitted adam and lawrence against each other#eventually everyone else seem to have killed each other so adam and larry are the only ones left in a sea of bodies pm#lawrence is more unhinged this time and he doesn't seem to have a problem with needing to kill adam this time around#kinda like a 'welp. it's either you or me'-attitude#so he has a saw he's gonna like- cut off adam's arm with so it'll kill him i guess? but adam manages to keep a level head for a long enough#-time to apparently convince lawrence not to kill him but L still tries to attack him i think?#but adam says smth about how if they just let a gun go off inside- someone will hear the gunshot and call the police so they can be saved#however while they were struggling- the saw cut into lawrence's own arm instead so it's making him lose blood but it also makes him more-#-lucid again. his arm's pm detached from his body now tho and as he dies he smiles as he says that adam was right:-#-they COULD'VE just shot the gun into the ceiling or smth and help would've arrived. and then lawrence dies#adam IS sad about it but still pretty stoic#THEN idek but a portal?? opens up? bc now adam's the last one left so that means he gets to leave ig#and it's kinda like a portal made of water? he drags lawrence's body with him and as they swim/float down he gently drags L along with him
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jytan2018 · 10 months
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I read the comic in one sitting less than an hour after finishing the movie, and wow I have many Thoughts™.
- It's very obvious the two versions were meant to cater to different audiences AND tell different messages. I don't get why people are going "But the comic was better! It had more nuance!" just because Nimona was easier to root for in the movie.
- The comic was written back when ND Stevenson was still trying to process a lot of stuff, so all the characters are morally grey/straight up evil and the climactic battle is between a Ballister who regrets turning against Nimona, even if it was to save others vs. a Nimona who's too hurt to care if her lashing out was going to hurt innocent people.
- By the time Nimona got a movie adaptation, ND was a lot more secure in his sexuality, so the climactic battle was Nimona vs. the Director, the symbol of religious oppression and bigotry. It's not just about your friends turning on you because you're "too much" for them anymore, it's also about a society that would rather bring itself to the brink of ruin than coexist with you.
- (I totally get why people were upset about Ballister's surname change, though. Like come on, the media dubbing him Blackheart just to be mean was RIGHT THERE).
- Nimona's metaphor for not shifting is such a neurodivergent thing. Even in the comic, Nimona's parents insisting she's a monster who replaced their daughter is reminiscent of the changeling myth, which is what many parents thought their neurodivergent kids were—changelings who replaced their "real" children.
- Ambrosius being trained to cut off HIS BOYFRIEND'S WHOLE FUCKING ARM instead of merely disarming him is a very cop thing to do. As much as cops claim they're trained to de-escalate situations, their training still teaches them to treat everyone as a potential threat, and that level of constant vigilance can turn anyone into a trigger-happy/arm-choppy bastard. Even the Director, who can use a sword but probably hasn't actually fought someone in ages, STILL can't see Ballister reaching for the squire's phone without assuming he has a weapon.
- And on that note, the Queen getting killed simply because she was trying to reform the Institution and allow commoners to become knights? That's the best "no such thing as a good cop" metaphor I've seen. Because even if there ARE good cops and they ARE in leadership positions, the system will crush them before they make any meaningful change. It's not a good institution that turned rotten, it's an institution that only exists to spread its rot and refuses to be good.
- That's why Ballister's characterisation is so different in the movie vs. the comic. Comic Ballister had 15 years to come to terms with his trauma and the Institution's evildoing, while Movie Ballister is still freshly traumatised and hasn't found a way to define himself beyond the role he was assigned by the Institution.
- Not to mention Comic Ambrosius was not very noble to begin with and genuinely believed Ballister was better suited to villainy than heroism, while Movie Ambrosius never wanted the glory that came with his lineage in the first place and only antagonised Ballister because of indoctrination he needed to unlearn (which he did, all by himself, after witnessing the lengths the Director will go to just to kill Nimona).
- It really shows how important it is to surround yourself with loved ones who are open to change. Comic Ambrosius can love Ballister all he wants, but he'll still blast his arm off because he thinks Ballister deserved it anyway. Movie Ambrosius will stop to question what "the right thing" even means, even if he didn't love Ballister enough to defend him unconditionally.
I have so many more thoughts bubbling beneath the surface, but I'll probably address them some other day. In conclusion:
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[ID: A pink-haired Nimona grinning evilly while holding up a knife.]
Watch Nimona. This is not a request.
Edit: Added more thoughts!
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peterparkersnose · 1 year
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I Fall In Love Too Fast
Part 2 to ‘Jealousy, Jealousy’
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
word count: 6.2k (I fed you guys well!)
warnings: implied age gap, carrot penis reference if you squint, Y/N is a greenhouse girlie, mutual pining, use of y/n, fluff, alcohol consumption, mentions of sex, mentions of pregnancy, borderline bullying, stalking, attempting break in, violence, angst, description of blood (sort of), consensual cuddling, joel can’t tell his veggies apart (edited sort of)
a/n shaking rn i need to see cocaine bear asap
summary Y/N and Joel have an unlikely meeting in Jackson’s greenhouse. 
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read time: 22 mins 43 seconds
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The low hums of the generator filled your ears. The greenhouse could be very peaceful at times. Something you couldn’t explain drew you to the plants. Ever since you were a child, your friends from the old QZ you grew up in would always question why you would rather read the old book about botany you found than play tag.
When you were presented with the opportunity of working in the greenhouse in Jackson, you were more than happy to accept the position. All the vegetation calmed you for some reason. It was a sense of control in this crazy world. It was almost like it was normal inside that tented space.
After a few years of living in Jackson, Maria decided to appoint you as head greenhouse keeper. You had proved your success throughout the years, the vegetation grew by over 35% (according to Maria, stats were never your thing).
It had been a few days since you had seen Joel. It was a quick, longing goodbye early in the morning. He wanted to make sure you were home before Bradley would have to wake up. The thought of your… ex? You weren’t even quite sure yet. But the thought of him made you want to vomit. And the thought of Joel made you feel… well, safe.
The music coming from your walkman began to skip. The old CD player was old in the time cordyceps started, but nevertheless it trudged on through the pandemic. CD’s were rare, but they were often traded in the community. Currently, Frank Sinatra’s greatest hits skipped through your headphones. Ellie’s CD, presumably from Joel. You didn’t take Ellie for a big Sinatra fan. The thought of having something of his with you made the music just a little bit sweeter.
The song “I Fall In Love Too Easily” began to play clearly through the headphones. You had the headphone jack placed in just the right angle. Ignoring everything else in the world, you swayed to the music slowly as you were washing off the carrots in the sink. As the song continued, you began to hum along with the tune. The song was new to you; the lyrics weren’t mastered in your brain yet.
***
Joel trudged down the muddy streets of Jackson. Tommy and Maria were having a get together that night, and he stupidly agreed to help. Maria requested him to go to the greenhouse to pick up some produce. After Maria’s pushing and adamancy, Joel finally agreed to go. He was suspicious on why he had to go and why Maria just couldn’t go herself, but he decided to leave the possible argument alone and just do what he was told. He wanted to stay back and help Tommy with the roast anyways. That was his specialty. Back in Texas, Joel would make the best damn barbecue in the neighborhood.
Hell, he had never even had to go to the greenhouse before. He was perfectly content on living off of canned beans and coffee. And it was Sunday; the one day everyone had off. The greenhouse was sure to be abandoned, meaning he would have to forage for the produce himself. Did he know the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber? Hell no. Not even when life wasn’t shit he couldn’t figure that out.
Maria smirked as herself and Tommy watched Joel slump down the street. Joel was reading off the slip of paper Maria had written down directions on to the greenhouse. “The only person crazy enough to be workin’ on a Sunday is Y/N, if anyone is there.” Tommy said. “Why do you think I sent him?”
They both gave each other conniving looks.
“You saw the way he acted at the Tipsy Bison earlier this week,” Maria said, sucking her teeth and turning around to tend to her stew. “Don’t you want him to be happy?” She called back to Tommy. He shook his head at his wife’s antics and returned to the roast.
***
Joel let out a scoff as he realized he knew exactly where he was going. The big, white tent that sat on the edge of Jackson. Embarrassingly, he made his way towards the big landmark he mistakenly used to take for a medical ward. To his surprise, the lights were on.
Joel gave the door a few knocks before he opened it, not to freak out the possible worker who could have been behind the door. He quietly slipped in. He brushed some of the mud off his boots as he opened the second door.
A rush of heat hit his face. His eyes scoured the large facility in look for a person. And right then is why he realized Maria was so damn adamant about him going to the greenhouse. 
Your hair was tied up like it was the night you stayed at his house. He recognized the flannel you had on as his own. Your jeans and boots were a classic look that almost every woman had around town. What he didn’t expect was the headphones and walkman clipped to your jeans.
Soft humms came from you. Joel was feeling conflicted; his ego couldn’t allow him to feel this way about you. But the way you do gracefully moved your hips and cleaned those carrots drove him nuts. The thought of you in his kitchen, the two of you cooking together brought warmth to the bitter man’s heart.
Bringing himself back to reality, he looked at the list Maria had scratched down for him. Maybe you could help him find a… butternut squash? He didn’t know there was more than one type of squash.
He stood in the entrance and waited for you to notice him; but you never did. You were so invested in that little sink that you never bothered to look his way. Joel took a deep breath, realizing he was going to have to get your attention.
The fearless man began to tremble with anxiety. He cautiously walked over stray hoses and tried to keep his footsteps on the louder side, so you could maybe hear he was coming.
You yelped as he tapped your shoulder. The carrot you were holding in your hand fell into the sink.
“I’m sorry I-��
“Oh thank god, it’s just you.” you said out of breathe, holding your hand to your chest. “Scared the shit out of me,”
The music played through the headphones as you wrapped the cord loosely around your neck. It played long enough for Joel to recognize the song.
“Sinatra?” he asked, your music taste peaking his interest. You clipped the walkman to your belt, it now rested against the black shirt you had his flannel loosely on top of. “Ellie loaned it to me,” you said, grabbing a towel and drying your hands.
“Must be mine then,” Joel tittered, nervously playing with the piece of paper in his grip. Your eyebrows raised in question, ignoring the confirmation of your previous theory. “I loaned it to her a few months back, thought she must’ve lost it but… I guess not.”
“Do you want it back? Here, you can…” you nervously said, struggling to get the walkman out of your belt loop. “Keep it, really. You seem to like it more than me.” he said, again. “Oh, I have this-” you said, beginning to strip the oversized flannel off your body. “Here,” you said, balling up the flannel and reaching it out to Joel. “Nah, it looks better on you than me. Trust me,” he said, awkwardly refusing the gift of his own belongings.
He could imagine drunk you saying “He said it looked better on me,” as you did a few nights ago in his bed when he called you ‘pretty girl’.
Why was he giving his things to you?
You wrapped the flannel around your waist. “What can I help you with?”
He outstretched the paper to you.
“Maria’s cookin’?” you asked, walking past Joel with the confidence that you knew where you were going. Obediently, he followed you.
“Some stew or something, she says it’s good but…” Joel said, sucking in air sharply. “Not so good?” you smirked, reaching a planter and looking up at him. He shook his head no but then said “It’s delicious,” in a forced, sarcastic tone.
You pulled out the first vegetable and handed it to Joel. Moving along, you moved to the next planter.
“Is that what your doin’ tonight?” you asked him, going through the pea pods trying to pick out the best ones. “Yup.”
He stood for a second in silence as he felt like something was missing. “Would you like to come?” he asked, praying Tommy wouldn’t kill him and Maria’s stew would taste better than it did last time.
Your heart sank because you already had plans. “I’m so sorry,” you began. Joel’s face turned bright red.
He was right. He was too old for all of this. You were just interested in being friends, maybe not even friends. He was so embarrassed, he was ready to go back in his house and never come out again.
“I promised Ellie and Dina I would come over tonight. Have a little sleepover, if you could call it that. Definitely need a rain check though, I would love to some other time.”
That damn kid stole his date.
“Oh, yeah. No worries.” he said, the rejection ruining his confidence.
“I mean it though, rain check.” you said, piling more veggies into his grasp. That built back some of his shattered rizz.
You made your way to the front of the greenhouse, getting ready for the last produce. Potatoes.
You chuckled as you looked behind you. Joel’s presence seemed to fall back. He was struggling to keep all the produce in his hands.
“Would you like a bag?” you asked, slowly moving towards the woven bags hanging on the wall. “Would be nice,” he awkwardly chuckled, grabbing a falling bunch of broccoli from his hands.
“Here,” you said, opening the bag in front of him as he layed everything in. “Shit,” he mumbled as a stray carrot stalk fell. You both bent down to retrieve it.
His hand accidentally layed on yours for a brief second. It should have been a minuscule moment, but time seemed to freeze. You looked up into his gaze as you both stood up, still both holding the carrot. You never wanted this moment to end.
“Potatoes?” Joel asked. Trapped in his gaze, you answered “Huh?”
“Don’t I need a few potatoes?”
You blinked a few times, bringing yourself back into reality. “Uh, yeah. Follow me.” you said, trying to calm your heavy breathing. You could almost feel your heartbeat pumping out of your chest.
The green tops of the potatoes reached out of the grass. Inspecting each top, you slowly and carefully made your decision. “You sure know what your doin’,” Joel commented as you looked up at him from the leaves. “Botany is my passion,”
“By the way your looking at those potato stems, I believe you.” “Maria’s stew has to be good this time. I can tell this one is a good one because of how thick the leaves are. The bugs haven’t gotten to it yet because it’s in the middle, you see. They are full grown, these are the ones planted around the spring. There full grown and…”
You looked up at Joel and found him with a sly smile. “I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“I like ramblin’. Could listen to it all day.”
He wanted to say he could listen to you all day; Even if all you talked about was potatoes.
“At least someone enjoys my rambling.”
Memories of Bradley point blank telling you to shut up because you were explaining how herbs could be used in medicine once plagued your mind. Then, the memory of his face bloodied scurrying on the bar floor replaced those. And you felt that warm feeling again, safe with Joel in the greenhouse.
Selecting the perfect one from the middle row, you began to pull. And pull some more. “God dammit,” you muttered to yourself. Giving up, you moved some of the dirt around the root.
“Can you help?” you asked kindly, as pulling on it one more time was unsuccessful. Joel placed the bag of produce down and moved to a different angle.
You expected them to pull out easily when he went for them, but he was struggling too. “What you do to ‘em?” he asked, wiping his hands off on his jeans. “Locked in or something,”
You angrily decided to try pulling again.
“Let me,” he said. To your surprise, his hands came to your shoulders to ease the suspense of touch. Then, he moved forward bringing you into his embrace. His hands rested below yours. Your shoulders matched up almost perfectly with his broad chest.
“Ready?” he asked, his voice sending chills down your spine. You could tell how warm he was, even with the heat of the greenhouse making the both of you sweat. His arms flexed on yours as he began to pull the potatoes up along with your grip. He pushed back and you followed his grip. Within a few seconds, the potatoes freed from the dirt and sent the two of you flying backwards.
You two landed back first on the dirt ground. The feeling of his arms were still around you, he was still holding you on the ground. He had let go of the potatoes and they were thrown down the isle.
The two of you burst out in laughter, staring at the ceiling of the greenhouse. You genuinely didn’t want to leave this moment; and neither did he.
“I totally loosened it for you.” you bragged, sitting up and looking down at him. One hand rested under his head, the other layed comfortably on his stomach. “Sure ya did.”
He took your hand as you helped him up. His knees cracked, and he prayed that you didn’t hear it. The two of you made your way to the washing station at the other end of the greenhouse.
“Potato,” you said in a stern tone. He placed one in your hand. “Brush,” you requested. He handed you the brush. You turned on the water and scrubbed the dirt off the potatoes. “Towel,”
“Yes ma’am.”
The two of you laughed as he played along into your antics. He was standing so close that his hips seemed to connect with yours. “Is that the last one?” he asked, drying off the fifth potato. “Unfortunately,” you sighed.
“Your welcome back any time to wrestle some potatoes again, if you’d like.” you said, following him to grab his original bag of produce. “Why don’t we take on the corn next week?” he asked, not wanting to leave. He just knew Maria would be bombarding him with questions about what took so long.
“It’s a date!” you said, mostly serious but in a joking manner.
Dina froze at the door. Ellie was making homemade pizza for that night and sent Dina to get some tomatoes. She was frozen, peeping through the door she watched. Dina had just gotten a front row viewing of you and Joel struggling with the potatoes, your awkward impromptu cuddle on the ground, and the romantic potato washing.
As Dina saw the two of you finishing your… encounter, she made her way quickly to the side of the building.
Ellie is going to love this.
***
“Ellie, your never going to believe-”
“Where are my tomatoes?” she asked, disappointedly. Dina burst into the kitchen of their small house frantically. “Forget the tomatoes, El. You’ll never guess what I just saw.”
“What, another stray cat? For the last time, no stray cats.”
“Joel and Y/N.” she said astonished. She took a place on one of the barstools next to the counter.
“What about them?”
“No- Ellie. Joel and Y/N, they were cuddling in the greenhouse.”
Ellie looked up from her dough she was making. “Dina, did you breathe in some outhouse gas?”
“No! I promise you. I was going to get the tomatoes, but they were just laying there. Then they got up and washed potatoes. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone wash vegetables so… sensually before.”
“I think your bullshitting me. Who cuddles in a greenhouse?” Ellie questioned, turning around and looking through the pantry. “Old stuff is going to have to do,” she sighed, pulling the old can of marinara sauce out from the back of the pantry.
“I wonder…” Dina began. “You remember how I told you about Bradley,”
“You remember how much I want Tommy to banish him?” Ellie reminded Dina. “Joel knocked that dude out!” Dina exclaimed.
“Yeah, but that’s just Joel being Joel. I’m sure he would do it for any one of us.”
“He walked her home!” Dina complained. “Your going to tell me there’s nothing going on there?”
“I think we should wait and ask Y/N. Not make assumptions,” Ellie sighed, giving Dina the side eye.
“They’d be cute, that’s all I’m saying.”
***
The sun was at the end of setting, the sky was a deep purple. You noticed Joel’s boot marks in the mud and how big they were compared to your feet. “Damn,” you whispered to yourself, stepping in one of his prints. Another pair of prints seemed to circle around the greenhouse. They were similar in size to your feet and had a different shape then the bottom of your shoes.
Following the odd marks, they moved to the side of the greenhouse. And then made a straight line towards where you were going: Ellie and Dina’s house.
“Oh no,” you sighed, following either Ellie or Dina’s footprints. You prayed one of them didn’t see you with Joel.
You tried to imagine Ellie’s reaction to it. What would there to be mad about? You were just friends with Joel. Even though you had admitted to yourself he was just your passing patrol crush about a year ago, you were taking things slowly with this new found interest.
And he was older than you, there was that. Adults can make adult decisions, you reminded yourself. You and Joel were both adults that had experienced a lot in life, even though yours was a bit shorter than his.
Would Ellie be mad? Her… Joel and her best friend (besides Dina of course). You shoved the idea to the back of your mind as you knocked on their door.
Dinner had an odd vibe to it. Dina had already had a few too many glasses of wine, and you were avoiding the alcohol at all costs. The other night was enough for this week.
“Your not drinking?” Ellie asked, chewing down on her pizza. “Nah,” you said, briefly commenting.
“What, you pregnant?” Dina laughed, filling her wine glass up again. You almost choked on your pizza. “God Dina, no.” you chuckled. “I haven’t fucked Brad in… four months? I think I would know by now.”
“Gross!” Ellie cringed. “I’m trying to eat!”
“Sorry, sorry.” you jokefully apologized. “Anything… new? With you know, Bradley?” Dina asked. Something was up with her.
“Not since Joel kicked him on his ass,” you said.
Dina gave Ellie a strange look. “Yeah, I remember. Did he get you home alright that night?” Dina asked. You swallowed a bit of your pizza. “Mhm,”
You hated lying to your friends. Without the truth, you felt miserable. You wanted to tell them all about Joel and how you have been secretly borderline obsessed with him since that night, but word getting back to Joel might scare him off. And you didn’t want Ellie to freak out.
“Then how come I didn’t see your porch light on when I left with Maria?”
You froze in your seat.
“I’m just fucking with you,” Dina teased, pushing her hand into your arm. “You like him though, don’t you.”
Lying is one thing you were never good at. “He’s a nice man.”
“You like him though, don’t you?”
The lack of response and the quickening of your breathe didn’t help your case. “Dina,” Ellie said, stepping in to Dina’s drunken antics.
“He took you to his house, didn’t he?”
“I…”
The whole town of Jackson seemed more quiet than usual. Ellie looked at your face and could see the panic. Her eyebrows rose as her stare widened, watching you squirm in your seat at Dina’s question.
“Holy fuck! Did you fuck Joel?” Ellie asked, now realizing the reality in Dina’s games. She was right; Dina totally saw you two at the greenhouse.
“No! No.” you defended yourself. That was the truth at least. “I… I didn’t want Bradley coming around and…”
“Oh my god,” Ellie said, standing up from the table. “We’re just friends! He’s a nice man Ellie, you know that.”
“Then why did I see you two cuddling in the greenhouse today?” Dina muttered from behind her wine glass.
You sighed and buried your head in your hands. So the shoe prints belonged to Dina.
“Y/N.” Ellie said sternly, standing at her place at the table and crossing her arms. “Tell me the truth.”
You grabbed Dina’s wine glass and took a large gulp.
“I- I like him, okay? I think he’s handsome, and kind and considerate. Everything Bradley isn’t and everything I deserve.” you said angrily, getting out of your seat and slamming it back in the table.
“Dina, your a dick when your drunk.” you yelled, grabbing your coat and heading for the door as Dina giggled at her spot.
“Y/N,” Ellie said, grabbing your hand. She closed her eyes and took a long breathe. “Your being for real?” Ellie asked, her look turned more sincere.
“As real as a bite,” you sighed.
***
The three of you, now in pajamas, sat in Ellie and Dina’s bed. Dina was braiding your hair as Ellie layed flat on her back and stared at the ceiling.
“Y/N Miller,” Ellie said out of the blue. Your head whipped over to where she was sitting, pulling your braid Dina was working on. “Jesus, El. A little too soon for that? I doubt it even,” you giggled. “In this world?” Dina asked. “I can lend you my white dress. With the embroidered flowers?” Dina suggested.
The memory of her embroidering those last summer resurfaced. “It is awful pretty,”
“And I can do your hair, hold on.” Dina said, undoing the braid she had been working on.
You felt her hands begin to work. “I just don’t know if he likes me back…” you sighed.
“Y/N. I know Joel. He wouldn’t just lay on the dirt floor with anybody.” Ellie assured you. “He barely speaks to anyone in Jackson as it is,”
“Would he even say anything? If he liked me?”
“Jesus, Y/N. This isn’t high school. Just tell him.” Ellie teased, sitting up in bed. “I’ll talk to him. Work some of my magic-”
“You better not!” you seethed, giving Ellie a glare. “Don’t embarrass me!”
“Ta da!” Dina announced, finishing putting a pin in your hair. You jumped off the bed and moved to the mirror.
It was in a low bun with a few stray hairs framing your face. It was so effortless and so elegant. “Dina,” you gasped, carefully cupping the bun with your hand. “I can make it ten times better, but just a thought.”
“I love it,” you gasped. “If I ever get married, you two are in charge of the wedding.”
***
Joel ate awkwardly at the table with Maria and Tommy in silence. The only noise in the whole house was the scratching of silverware.
“How was the patrol? Yesterday.” Maria asked both Tommy and Joel. “Alright,” they both said in unison. They definitely were brothers, men of very few words.
“Any news on the power plant improvement?” Tommy asked Maria. “I had some guys there today. So nice, working on their Sunday off.” she added.
“You know who works on Sundays?”
Joel’s fork stopped moving.
“I hear Y/N is running the greenhouse real nice.” Tommy said, already knowing the answer to Maria’s question.
“How was she, Joel?”
Joel looked up at Maria with a side eye. “Fine.”
“They’ve got blueberries now! Damn blueberries, I haven’t had any since before this shit. They were good,” Tommy mused, reminiscing on the delicious fruit.
“She’s a good chef too,” Maria commented. “Made some amazing salad dressing for the winter party a few weeks ago. Did you try her cookies too?”
“I remember,” Tommy added. “She’s gonna make a real nice wife some day.”
Joel’s fist hit the table a little too hard as he set down his glass. Both Tommy and Maria looked at him shocked.
“You alright?” Tommy asked.
“Can we change the subject?” Joel asked bitterly. “Why so angry? What’d she ever do to you?” Tommy pushed. “Goddamit Tommy,” he yelled, shoving his chair in.
“Thanks for the wonderful meal, Maria.” he hissed, lying and abruptly leaving their house. The picture frame on the wall shook a bit as he slammed the door.
“He’s down bad.” Tommy laughed. Maria sighed, her hands rubbing her temples. “Why do the two of you always seem to ruin a good night?”
“Hey, I barely did anything.” Tommy resisted with his hands in a defensive pose. “You know he likes her. The sheer mention of her makes him leave.” Maria commented. “God, I hope those two idiots find each other again. I don’t know how much more I can take of this.” Tommy sighed, chewing away at his roast.
It was dark outside now. Joel could hear the whisps of the wind blow in the trees. Creepy if you’d ask him, but Joel wasn’t afraid of much anymore. Almost all the houses were dark; with the exception of a few porch lights.
He turned down the main street and looked at all the lights still on. Maria’s guys must have fixed the power plant, pls business signs were flooding the street with their light. He glanced up at Ellie and Dina’s apartment; it was over one of the textile shops in the downtown department. The lights were out besides the one outside the entrance.
He took a double take when he saw someone standing out there.
Moving closer, he recognized the crouched down figure trying to pick their lock.
Bradley.
He reached the bottom of the old metal staircase before making himself known. He cleared his throat loudly.
“What in the hell are you doing?”
Bradley recoiled in fear, dropping the pocketknife on the metal landing. “It’s not what it looks like- I swear it Mr. Miller.”
“Then what does it look like?” he asked, slowly walking up each step. “I-I… Y/N invited me over. You know, lighten up the time with them. T-they had left over food she said.”
Bradley’s cowardly tone made Joel smile. He cracked a few of his fingers, intimidating Bradley farther and farther.
Joel knew Ellie. There was no way she would ever have leftovers; let alone invite anyone besides Dina to share them.
“You got about five seconds to tell me why-”
Joel was older and tougher, but Bradley was sly. He jumped up, grabbing the knife he dropped and swiped at Joel’s face with it.
Joel quickly ducked as fast as he could and kneed him in the gut. Bradley let out a loud oomf as Joel grabbed both of his hands and held them behind his back. “Nice try,” he whispered in his ear.
Now behind Bradley, Joel gave him a rough push down the metal stairs and took great pleasure in watching him flail down.
Unfortunately, the front door flung open and he was met with a shot gun to his face. He sighed, waiting for Ellie to realize who it was.
She cautiously lowered the gun as she recognized Joel’s face in the dim light.
“I taught you too well,” Joel sighed, moving the barrel of the gun out of his range.
“What’s wrong?” Dina asked, peeking out from behind the wall. You weren’t far behind her, hopping on your tippy toes to see what the matter was.
“You fucking fuck!” Bradley yelled from the ground. He was rolling around, clutching his leg. “You broke my leg, you asshole!”
Ellie looked at Joel in confusion. “Caught your peepin’ Tom on my way home.”
Emerging from behind Dina, you recognized those two voices from anywhere.
“Joel?”
His eyes met yours.
“Y/N, I dunno if you wanna look.” Joel advised. Ellie stepped out of the way as you poked your head out the door. A small gasp came when you saw your ex laying on the concrete. “Bradley, what the fuck!” you yelled.
“Please, Y/N. Take me back, I promise to treat you better than that old, violent grandpa!” He yelled, still in a ball on the ground. Joel let out a small breath of air from his nose. ‘Grandpa is really the best you got?’ he thought to himself.
“Your fucking pathetic.” you called back down to him. “How did he know I was even here?” you said, turning around to ask Ellie. She shrugged. Your hands began to tremble. “Hey, hey.” Ellie said, recognizing the panic arising in you.
She gestured for Joel to come in. She flicked a lamp on as you sat on the couch. “I can go get Tommy and a few other guys, we can deal with him.” Joel suggested.
Ellie looked at you for confirmation. Your eyes darted from her to Joel and back to her. She knew what you needed in that time. You needed him.
“Let me and Dina go get Tommy. I doubt Brad is going anywhere anytime soon.”
Joel opened his mouth to resist, but then saw you shaking on the couch. He knew Ellie was more than capable of fucking this guy up, and he rather stay with you. Even if the fucking up of Bradley sounded oh, so appealing.
“Alright.” he nodded, watching the two girls pull on their coats.
“May I?” he asked, outstretching his hand referencing to the couch spot next to you. You nodded your head. He sat next to you, not touching you. Joel was unsure of how to approach this.
“Joel?” you asked, turning to look at him. Your breathing was shaky and your eyes were glossy. “Yes?”
Without his consent, you moved closer to him on the couch. Your thighs were touching. The need for him to hold you right then was strong.
Joel let out a sigh of relief as he took your invitation of affection. His arm wrapped around your shoulder. You found comfort in his body, cuddling in and moving your arms closer to your body as he held you.
“Everything is alright,” he re assured you, taking his thumb and started slowly running circles into your shoulder.
“I’m sorry about what he said.” you sighed. “What- the grandpa comment? Pfft,” Joel chuckled. Your body moved against his as he laughed. “Doesn’t even phase me.”
“Well, he’s wrong.” you said. Joel looked down at you. “About what?”
“There is no way he could treat me better than you.”
A soft smile rose to Joel’s mouth. He wished he could hold you like this every night. The sweet smell of the rationed out shampoo filled his senses as he took another deep breath.
“Your damn right,” Joel whispered, leaning down and placing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Your arm stretched along his torso, holding him tightly as the sounds of Bradley’s wails came from below.
***
At least an hour had passed. You had dozed off, leaving Joel alone in Ellie’s apartment. You were still connected to Joel at the hip, but your grip had loosened on his waist.
He looked down at you adoringly. He thought of almost every scenario as he waited for Ellie and Dina to return.
He had to ask you out. He wasn’t quite sure how, he figured Tommy could maybe give him some pointers. Or maybe Ellie, she seems to know what women like. And then dating you. He wanted to take you out to the fields outside of Jackson. A nice picnic maybe, you two could maybe bring some food from the greenhouse. He remembered how when he was a child he used to eat cucumber sandwiches (there better than they sound, trust me).
You could teach him the difference between a zucchini and a cucumber. You could be that balance in his life; something he had been searching for since he was a teenager.
He noticed your hair was in a falling out low messy bun. He imagined a veil coming out from it, and a luxurious white gown on you. Sure, he was getting ahead of himself. Little did he know you were discussing the topic of marriage just hours prior.
The fantasies about a lavish, non infected world wedding were diminished as Ellie and Dina made their way through the door.
“Shh,” Joel said, silencing their conversation.
“Aww,” Dina said, still a little tipsy from the night before.
“You should take her home. Bradley won’t be bothering her anymore.” Ellie said sternly. Joel noticed the bloodied knuckles on Ellie’s hand. Dina placed her baseball bat next to it’s resting place at the door.
“Hey,” Joel whispered, rubbing your shoulder. You groaned, holding him tighter. “Good morning,” you muttered. “Still night time, doll. Let’s get you home.”
You slowly woke up in Joel’s embrace. The scent of him sent you back to the first night you spent in his bed. “You wanna go home?” he asked you again. “No,” you protested.
“I’m sober,”
Joel looked at you in confusion. “Remember? ‘Talk to me when your sober’, or something like that?”
The memory clicked in Joel’s mind.
“I want to stay with you.”
Joel couldn’t resist. He helped you up from the couch. He grabbed your jacket from the coat rack and helped you put your arms through your sleeves.
“Is that a yes?” you asked him as he silently closed Ellie and Dina’s door. He sighed. “Sure,”
Walking hand and hand down the abandoned street, you began to humm the Frank Sinatra song from earlier that day. Joel listened to your sweet tune the whole way home.
As you reached his house, you kept the tune going again and again. Joel led you to his bedroom with his hand in yours. His alarm clock read a little after three.
“Get comfy,” he said, throwing his jacket in the corner. You dropped your jacket, leaving it by the bedroom door with your boots. All that was left was your jeans and your black tank top.
“You don’t care if I slip into something more comfortable, do you?” he asked. “Not at all.”
Joel stared at you awkwardly. “You want me to go to the bathroom or…”
“It’s your house. I don’t mind,” you said, boldly sliding off your jeans and kicking them into your pile. Your gray underwear was left on as you sat on the edge of his bed.
“Alright,” he chuckled, adoring your boldness. His pants came off and hit the ground with a thud. His heavy belt buckle made the noise. He opened a drawer and took out a pair of red flannel pajama pants.
“Look! They match the flannel,” you exclaimed.
He turned around, completely enamored by you. Your excitement, your pep, and everything else about you was just what he was lacking in his life. For the first time in years, Joel felt himself feel genuinely happy. It was scary for him, but he was ready to let go.
“Can I just say…” he said, walking up to you sitting on his bed. His right hand slowly cupped your left cheek. His thumb slowly, softly ran across your cheek. “You really do look better in the flannel in than me.”
He slowly bent down, giving you enough time to resist. To his surprise, you began to rise off the bed and connected your lips with his. Rising off the bed, you continued the kiss as you both took a few steps. His hand reached around your waist, finding a comfy spot on the bottom of your back. Your hands had moved to his hair, slowly playing with the locks in your fingers.
“I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” you smiled, still in his embrace.
Joel’s body melted into yours. “I… I really…” he struggled to say. “‘I really’ you too,” you said, expressing to him that it was okay to be afraid. But you were there, and was ready for anything at any pace. His soft eyes seemed relieved at the confirmation of the now mutual feelings.
“Let’s get some sleep, hm?” you asked, sitting back down on the bed and breaking from his embrace.
His body held yours. Joel’s arms protectively kept you in his embrace. The four legs intertwined and kept each other warm underneath the blanket. You pushed into his figure, making yourself feel more secure than ever.
As he held you in bed, the tune began to sing again in your head. In a before sleep epiphany, you remembered the lyrics.
“But I still fall in love too easy, I fall in love too fast,” you whispered. Joel’s head burrowed in the nape of your neck. A tiny kiss was placed there in confirmation of what he had just heard.
Happiness consumed the both of you.
tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @rosie0611 @vivalasv3gan
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temptaetions · 2 months
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angel eyes 🪽 b.cc (m)
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a/n: the photo above is from stray kids' skz magic school shoot. i don’t own the media. i clearly got carried away writing this, because it's so long. however, i hope you guys enjoy it. obviously none of this is real...so does accuracy matter?
✩ spellbound secrets series m.list
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✩ synopsis: you’ll think you’re in paradise, and one day you’ll find out he wears a disguise, don’t look too deep…
✩ genre: idiots to lovers | love epiphany au | teacher x student
✩ pairing: ??? b.cc x fem!compassion conjurer!reader
✩ word count: 21.6k | lowercase intended.
✩ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.
✩ warning(s): quite a few time skips. minor character death, mentions of a car accident, semi descriptive. y/n has a scar across her body (not self inflicted, how it was inflicted is not described), both y/n and chan have unresolved issues with love, chan's kind of a dick in the beginning. swearing, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of blood, y/n has a medical episode, once more horribly written smut [between b.cc x reader: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), creampie, oral (f. receiving...he starts eating it thru the panties LOL), so much kissing, some (nude) grinding, missionary (because i'm an emotional bitch), light nipple play (clothed), crying during sex, multiple orgasms, reader begs a lot, some biting, light choking (m. receiving), a bit of alluding to sex as 'extra credit' and subtly feeding the professor x student power dynamic]. (more information about y/n: she glows, kind of like a glowstick, and she can float around instead of walking.)
✩ what to listen to: angel eyes - abba | the chain - fleetwood mac | bodyache - purity ache | if it isn't love - new edition | cherish the day - sade
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tuesday – november 02.
it's slow, the fall. it feels like liebesträume.
feeling lost is an understatement. 
he's been lost before - in grocery stores, not understanding assignments. shit, he's even been lost in the woods before. he knows what it's like to be lost, physically. he knows what it's like to not know what his emotions mean, either, so that also counts in his book.
but this? this feeling that he's just wandering the world? not knowing where his purpose lies, or what he's meant to be doing with said unrealized purpose? this is a feeling of damn near disorientation, isolation, off fucking course. it's all the same anyway. everything is the same, nearly everyday.
he wakes up, brushes his teeth. greets changbin and hyunjin at the table for breakfast, and gets ready for the day. goes to class, daydreams. he comes home, has lunch with jisung sometimes, and goes to the gym with changbin at seven-thirty. every few fridays, he'll go to one of the university baseball games, cheering on seungmin and jisung while sharing nachos with his ex-fling, sooyoung, and her best friend (who so happened to be seungmin's former girlfriend.) then, he's home again, he showers, he sleeps for a few hours.
every. single. day.
he gets bored, but reminds himself he needs to find peace in the routine. it's all he knows – he doesn't know what's keeping him here, but he's aware it's something. everyone knows it's something, but have no answers for him. he's sought after so many master sorcerers across all dimensions, begging to find an end to his equation, but to no avail.
he has no idea who he is, or what purpose he serves, and he pretends he's okay with it. he soothes by saying that not all can be known.
he pretends it's fine as he goes through his days, as he goes to class, as he talks to girls. he doesn't feel much of anything when he does these things, but the women he speaks to certainly do. they grin from ear to ear, like cheshire cats, when they get a moment to speak to the uncertainty that is bang chan.
but, it's fine. he's fine, it's really not a big deal.
he's in his last year of grad school, hoping to just bury himself in his studies to stop the feeling of impending doom. normally, you open up shop right after undergrad. you offer your services, barter for goods, sometimes get paid in a goat and two chickens instead of money. so many of his friends have already done so, relishing in the satisfaction that is being a sorcerer and mastering their craft. 
what the fuck is he supposed to do? study until his fingers fall off and his brain becomes putty?
"i dunno, man. you could become a genius." jisung spoke around a mouthful of blueberries, and chan grimaced. "what? i'm bulking up!" shaking his head, chan closed his notebook. shoving it into his bookbag, he sighs. "i don't think i want to know everything there is to know, ji."
"doesn't knowing everything you need to know, start with knowing yourself?" minho teases from across the table, winking at jisung over his coffee cup. the younger boy nearly chokes, getting a whack across the back to aid in not seeing god. "don't flirt with him, he'll have an aneurysm." "hey!" jisung sputters, but the three of them know it's true. how jisung was the campus' playboy, no one would ever know. chan didn't even know if jisung could read when they first met. "you know it's true, ji. i gotta head out, i have a night class this semester with professor y/l/n, i finally got my schedule fixed. changbin is going to hate me because i'm going to miss the gym every tuesday and thursday." chan groans as he swings his bag over his shoulder, and the two men watch as he slides his headphones on, walking out of the library.
he's insufferable lately, and they don't know why. they assume he needs to kiss someone, preferably sooner rather than later.
"you think the poor guy knows what he's in for?" minho mumbles, closing his textbook. jisung shakes his head, popping another blueberry in his mouth. "i hear she's ruthless. i mean, if i was an anomalistic prodigy with gorgeous thighs like hers, i would be, too." "shut up, you can't even kill spiders."
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your classroom is surprisingly cozy as he strolls in. the lights are dimmed, and there are blankets draped across many chairs. he looks around, spotting a green couch in the back. raising his eyebrows, he makes a beeline for it, hearing other people start to trickle in.
setting up his laptop on the table before him, he lets his eyes wander.
the walls are plastered with entomology posters, and he scrunches his nose as he sees a taxidermied praying mantis on your desk. he remembers what you said in your speech at your commencement ceremony – "the people of ancient greece and egypt saw the praying mantis as a guide. a guide for those who needed direction, and my god, have i needed it. life truly does go on and i am further amazed by how deeply it fills me with joy to stand here before you. the people of ancient greece and egypt saw the praying mantis as a guide, and i am so honored to be the mantis that prays for you."
you were the university's little treat, their trophy to parade. their only compassion conjurer and possessor of the will to practice benevolent magic. you cared of nothing more but to help those around you, you never said no. you never denied yourself to be utilized to find peace. he admired you, but not really. it was twisted, but he thinks you should…help yourself. he believes you should be selfish, at least once in a while.
he didn't really know you, but he hadn't expected to, either. you seemed like you were constantly on the go. you floated about, sort of like a ghost. your hands often clasped behind your back, a warm golden glow surrounding you. he'd heard from some people that they've seen it change color, but he never has.
but again, he didn't know you.
"chan!"
the voice whips him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see yugyeom. he smiles, reaching his hand out for a dap from his oldest friend. "hey! how have you been? still on the baseball team?" "nah, i quit after i started dating doyeon. apparently, she has quite the track record with the team." he whistles, pulling out his laptop as he slides on the couch. "you quit the team for a girl?" chan questions, and yugyeom gives him a shy smile.
"she's not just any girl, chan. i think…she could be the one." he shrugs, a blush coating his cheeks as chan bumps his shoulder. "aww, that's so gross."
"shut up. what happened with you and sooyoung? did you guys break it off?" yugyeom takes a sip of his water, and chan nods as he sees more people walk in and take their seats. "yeah, we stopped fucking around. i wasn't as emotionally invested as she was, and i felt awful for it but we ended on good terms. i'm just not ready for a relationship and i should have made that clear. that was months ago, though, and we're fine." he shrugs, and feels an odd shiver down his spine. he shakes it off, continuing the casual conversation with yugyeom.
the door opens, and they both stop talking to look up. you're floating in gracefully, dark hair framing your face, a few scattered gold strands sprouting at the crown of your head. a bit like a halo, really. long, wine red nails reach for the light switch, dimming the lights even lower.
"good evening, everyone. eyes up front, please." your voice is softer than at your ceremony, but just as confident. you're looking around, your glow dimming lightly as your eyes stop in his direction. chan's eyes flicker to yugyeom, who is smiling at his phone, thumbs typing rapid fire. shaking his head, he looks up at you, your gaze on yugyeom. chan bumps his foot, and his head shoots up. your eyes are slightly amused, "you're paying for this class. i suggest you pay attention." "sorry." he slides his phone in his jacket, and chan bites back a laugh as he clicks his pen. smiling, you redirect your attention. "welcome to identity theory! i'm professor y/l/n, but you guys can call me y/n. you might already know me, as i'm the university's only compassion conjurer, and that is exactly why i'm teaching this class." you hold up the syllabus, and begin walking around to pass them out.
"this is an extension course to the one you took in undergrad, self-discovery 101. here, we are going to further delve into ourselves, and figure out who we are outside of our powers, or what purpose they serve. i like to focus on eudaimonic theory, but if you guys have any others you want to talk about, i'm open for discussion. i also want to apologize for starting the class so late in the year. i promise the workload isn't much, i was just having a hard time deciding if i wanted to teach this class. i wouldn't be doing much soul searching with you guys, i'm already the trophy wife of the administration."
he likes your voice. it's smooth, unwavering even as you apologize and joke, even as you let your feet touch the ground. he feels his chest grow hot as you graze everyone's table with your fingers, a soft chatter beginning amongst the students. he's not nervous, but you're very commanding. he likes the way you grab attention, despite it now seemingly about to be directed to someone in the room.
"your eyes are very pretty." you stop in front of him, and the class grows quiet. you look down at him, the soft light around you a little brighter. he feels his cheeks flush, as he nods in confusion. "do they glow brighter the more i make you nervous?" you tease, and he looks away.
"cute." you slide his syllabus in front of him, and he takes it with a soft thank you.
his eyes were the only thing that gave him that something that people always mentioned. they swirled, every now and again, the brown glowing slightly violet at their own will. nobody knew what it was, but it seemed to take your interest. you move forward with the lecture, not even attempting to hide the subtle boredom in your voice as you go over the syllabus.
"i will see you all on thursday! have a safe night!" you cheer, and the students seem to bask in your happiness as you let them out of the room. you float about, and catch chan at the tail end of the gaggle of students. "you, pretty eyes."
his headphones are in the way, and you place your hand on his arm. his skin is warm to the touch, and he jumps at the contact before turning around, sliding them off. "oh, i'm sorry. did you need me?" "i just wanted to say, i hope my teasing didn't make you uncomfortable. sometimes it just slips out." you smile, and you notice one..two dimples make their presence on his cheeks. "don't worry, it's alright. is that all?" "no, actually." you hold up his file, and he seems to know exactly what's coming. "i don't know my abilities, if that's what you're going to ask. and i won't answer any questions about my parents, that's also in there."
his eyes hold something heavy, and you notice your glow dim as he speaks. if he does, he doesn't mention it. "alright, then i guess that's it. i'm sorry if i disturbed some emotional blockage." your brows furrow lightly, and he raises his own.
"whatever." he mumbles, and slides his headphones back on. he walks away, and you feel your lips tug into a frown. you wonder what his problem is as you walk back into your classroom, sliding the file into your desk drawer.
"you try and make a classroom a home." 
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thursday – november 12.
hello, chan. this is professor y/l/n. i noticed you didn't show up to class last thursday, tuesday, or tonight.
i took it upon myself to look into your file again, with permission from the administration. i want to apologize for the sudden hot seat on tuesday after class, i was unaware of your situation and just wanted some insight. i can see how this made you uncomfortable, and i am sorry for causing said discomfort. i want you to be able to enjoy my class, and hopefully we can traverse that journey together.
that being said, i have come up with a new assignment for you, for the time being. since you don't really know what your specialties are, i can't grade based on performance or any papers delving into how they affect your life, personality, etc.
below is the rubric designed for this assignment. i spoke to the administration, and they're on board with this approach. if anything is too much, please don't hesitate to send me an email, or a text. my number is also below. have a good weekend!
signed,
y/n y/l/n
identity theory
spellbound institute of magic
psychology department
555-8212
he's been staring at this email for the last half hour. he even let hyunjin read over it, asking if he was seeing shit.
he'd skipped your class on thursday, and today. he didn't want to see you, so he avoided the psych hall altogether. he didn't really know how to feel as he switched tabs to the rubric you'd sent, essentially just saying you wanted an essay on how he's been coping with not being sure of his path in life.
how does he feel about it? does it bother him, and if he could pick, which abilities would he pick? his brain says the ability to never see you again, but his heart pangs as he rereads the postscript at the bottom of your email.
p.s. i am once again very sorry. i hope to see you in class on thursday, channie. - y/n
channie. ugh, his heart ached. he'd been so rude.
"you're thinking too hard." changbin sings from the living room, and chan sighs. "how would you know? you can't read minds." he rolls his eyes, shutting his laptop. changbin walks into the dining room, leaning over the back of a chair. "i know that look. the furrowed brows, the pout. you're thinking way too hard about this, and it was an honest mistake on your professor's part. you need to apologize, you grumpy bitch." "yeah, i don't really think it's a huge deal, either." hyunjin chimes in from the kitchen, and chan frowns. "you guys think i'm being overdramatic?" "i think your emotional repression is getting to you, you've been so insufferable lately. when's the last time you got laid?" hyunjin teases as he slides into a chair, and changbin wiggles his brows in agreement. "ugh, don't even." chan slumps his head against the wall. maybe seven months? he has a lot of pent up frustration. maybe not enough to write about his feelings and how annoyed it made him that you were digging into his life this early into him meeting you. what did you need to know, anyway? "isn't your professor that compassion conjurer paradigm? i heard the speech she gave at the convention last year, and i saw the photos. she's gorgeous, that glow around her all the time?" changbin whistles smoothly, and chan's stomach does a flip. he also saw the photos, but couldn't bring himself to think anything of them. he barely remembers watching your speech, too, but he certainly remembers the way your hips swayed as you walked off the stage.
he grimaces, feeling a bit gross at ogling you.
"she's fine." he shrugs, and changbin gives hyunjin a knowing look. "so, she's hot and you're into her. that's why she has you so worked up."
"i beg your finest fucking pardon, seo?" chan blinks, and hyunjin smirks. "then beg, channie. i'm sure professor y/l/n would like it if you did, she seems like the type. get on some dating apps, man. you need stress relief." chan scoffs, shoving his laptop into his backpack. "i'll be in my room, if you decide to stop talking about romancing my professor."
hyunjin and changbin snicker as chan storms off, his door slamming behind him as he flops onto his bed. sure, you were…okay. okay, you're hot. you're so fucking hot.
but, he doesn't like you. he doesn't like that you put him on the spot, and he doesn't like that you intended to ask so many personal questions right off the bat. he also doesn't like that his roommates are probably right – he probably is angry because he needs to get laid.
he groans into his pillow, fishing his phone out of his pocket. he unlocks it, opening the stupid app. "spellbound soulmates, how dumb." he mutters, unpausing his profile. he goes through it, updating photos and prompts. once he's satisfied, he goes to his deck.
left. left. left. left. right. right. left. left.
y/n, 26
compassion conjurer, benevolence magic
biography: sexy as fuck by day, sexy psych prof by night. everything you've heard is true.
interests: if your ass is phat, swipe right 🥵
his eyes widen, your smiling face staring back at him. scrolling through your profile, he sees mostly modest photos – you holding a tray of shots being the most scandalous. not a sliver of skin showing above your waist, but plenty of short skirts showing off your full thighs. you're smiling in every photo, but he can't think of anything except your lips parted, your thighs around his head. moaning his name.
alright, chris. he thinks. chill the fuck out.
he contemplates it for a bit, scrolling up and down your profile when he just shakes his head, closing the app and tossing his phone to the side. he flips onto his back, letting the pillow close around his ears.
he hates to admit it, because he doesn't know you. he doesn't dislike you, per say. but he's not very fond of your subtle insistence.
it's not necessarily your fault, but he really doesn't like talking about his family, especially his parents. only his friends know, and even then, it took all of four years to even bring it up. the fact that they're humans is a huge deal, and he can't risk their safety like that.
not to mention, admissions begged him to keep it a secret. they were toeing the line, chan being the third person in the university's history to have human parents. they knew about the world of magic, but didn't really have the abilities to take care of chan the way it was necessary.
so they didn't. they sent him to boarding school from a young age, and made it a point to frequently visit him. he sees them at least four times a year, but it's never enough time. he feels like he's missing a place to call home. 
he feels so alone.
it's not your fault. and he knows he needs to apologize. he just has too much pride right now.
he hears a knock, and changbin opens the door. "hey, what are you doing? i'm going to the gym, want to come with?" chan sighs, before forcing himself out of bed.
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tuesday – november 17.
he's sitting on your couch today.
legs spread, hair tucked under a cap. black, like the rest of his clothes. he looks relaxed, his fingers dancing across his laptop as yugyeom shows him something on his phone. he just nods, and you can't make out what his lips say. 
you'd been feeling terrible about the events of last week, and hadn't gotten so much as an email from him. not about the assignment, not about how he clearly hates you, or even addressing your apology. you didn't understand him, but you don't know him, either.
the past three classes, you'd gotten to know your students. minnie, soyeon and shuhua were your favorite (and only) group, giggling in the corner over their laptops. they were all herbomancers, and you could tell simply based on how giggly they were. they chatted, and last thursday, shuhua was so high she just sat against her chair and stared into the abyss. you found it a little funny, when soyeon and minnie would have to drag her out of your class.
mingyu was a constant flirt, and you attributed it to his matchmaking expertise. he was one of the few cupidancers on campus, and you'd seen him about before. he had the ability to entrance people, to get them high off his attention, and you often saw girls with hearts in their eyes after speaking to him. it was quite the sight, to see someone emotionally orgasm. the fact that you were his professor didn't stop him from smiling at you, making suggestive comments, overall trying to weasel into your heart. you simply played his game, making him flustered.
yugyeom was too enthralled with his phone, and his girlfriend, to complete the assignments. the fact that minnie had slid eighty dollars his way told you his spirit weaving ways were some for the books – and so did minnie – as she rambled about a party at beta tau that past weekend. "you should come sometime, y/n. you'd get so wasted but it'd be so worth it."
you liked that they felt so at ease with you, speaking to you like you were nothing special. you liked being their age, being able to relate to the crazy parties and not worry about how you'd get home the morning after. you enjoyed the intimacy of the small class, but not the coldness surrounding who you would deem your most intriguing student.
he just sits there and he looks so nice. the slope of his neck, the way his fingers bounce on the keys of his laptop. the sheen of his lips from the cherry lip balm he applies three or four times over the two hours of your class. the way your hue almost changes from gold to pink from staring at him, and you know you catch some of their eyes as it tries.
"why do you glow, y/n?" you can hear minnie's hazy voice from the back of the room, and you feel yourself a bit dimmer than usual as you fight down the feelings of lust. "i actually don't know. the master sorcerers never told me, but i know it can be several different colors. care to ask me what they mean?" you wiggle your brows, and minnie giggles.
"pink means you're turned on, huh?" mingyu calls from his seat between shuhua and soyeon, earning a smack from both of them. you chuckle as he pouts, "what? i hooked up with a compassion conjurer last year in the second dimension, forgive me for assuming." "i thought you were bitchless, gyu? what a nice surprise, loverboy." shuhua teases, and mingyu just rolls his eyes. "well, he's not wrong."
their heads whip back to you, and you're purposely glowing gold. you're glad they don't make it weird, their eyes full of glee. "i know those sex flashbacks gotta be good, y/n." minnie giggles, and sighs dreamily. "i once got one in undergrad during the ochem final. i ran out of time and failed."
you laugh, floating closer to their table. "the colors mean a lot of things. i can also change them at will, if one isn't overpowering the other. the hues and brightness also amplify how i feel, which makes it really hard to hide any of my thoughts. for example," you pause, closing your eyes. you feel the warmth of blue overtake you, and hear a soft ooh. 
opening your eyes, you give a quick spin. "blue means i'm sad, disappointed, or at ease. i rarely get this one, it usually happens when i'm with my closest friends and can act on impulse."
the quartet looks amazed as you continue to change colors, explaining them slowly.
green, for envy, and disgust. you also rarely turn this color, and it is amongst the most dim that you've ever been. pink, for lust. you say it's your favorite color, but not your favorite feeling. orange for anger, and you recall that you only turned this color when in your mother's presence, and that you hated this one. silver, for remembrance and emptiness, and they don't require an explanation as the light grows brighter, your face deepening in sadness before you shake your head.
you exhale, before letting the cold of indigo overtake you. they gasp, and you feel shivers rack your body before you can finally speak.
"this is the only one i don't understand. i can make it seem darker, too." you say calmly, eyeing the dimness of it. it glowed almost like a blacklight, and at your will, it turned a deep violet, lining your extremities in black pixels. "have you ever felt it before?" soyeon pops a piece of gum in her mouth, offering a piece to you. taking one gently, you shrug as you unwrap it.
"nope. this one feels cold, though. the others feel warmer, like a blanket. this is like, sub-zero temperatures." you slide the piece into your mouth, feeling your golden glow return as you speak. "that's so cool, though. thank you for sharing." shuhua is gazing at you, fondness riddled in her eyes. you feel your cheeks heat, as you smile.
"my pleasure. class is over in twenty minutes, so wrap up whatever it is you're doing and i might let you guys dip out early." you nod at them, floating in the direction of yugyeom and chan. looking up from your gum wrapper, you see chan looking at you intently, his eyes slightly swirling with that same violet glow from tuesday.
"hey, pretty eyes. so kind of you to grace us with your presence today." your teasing makes him grimace, a hint of annoyance flashing through his eyes. "paying for the class, might as well pay attention." he mutters, echoing the first words you said to yugyeom.
your brows furrow at his attitude, and you watch yugyeom slip away, beckoned by minnie with a piece of pink paper. chan glances at you, closing his laptop and shoving it in his bag with indignance. "why are you acting like this? i already apologized." you feel your glow flash orange, before feeling the soft tinge of blue creeping up your back. his eyes are still violet, but they've softened. "i'm just trying to help you, chan."
"i don't think you can help, when you're part of the problem." he mumbles, his gaze never moving from your eyes. you sense blue creeping up your neck, and succumb to it, letting it blaze. "how disappointing, for a teacher to try and aid you in finding your path of life." your annoyance is visible as you spin, directing your attention to the gaggle of students watching your interaction. soyeon's eyes are wide as you dismiss them, asking them to please let the door close instead of leaving it propped open.
the words aren't even out of your mouth when you hear the door slam, yugyeom pitiful eyes confirming your thoughts. they begin to stand up, heading for the door when yugyeom splits from them, circling back to you.
"don't worry about chan. he's being a dick, it's not your fault." he places a hand on your shoulder, and you give him a sad smile. "i know, yug. i know."
a soft squeeze to your shoulder and he's gone, you're alone in your room. you sigh deeply, letting the most overwhelming hue of all take over.
the same dark red you felt all those years ago, letting it overwhelm you entirely. you sink into your desk chair, letting the soft burn of grief sink into your skin. you can close your eyes and still see it, the wine color in front of you. the one that matches your nails, and on occasion, your lipstick. the one that makes you ache the most, and yearn for those who are no longer here.
you miss him.
just like you miss chan's wide eyes, not having heard the creak of the wooden door in your turmoil. he slips away.
— ☆ — — ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —
later that night, you're sitting in your bathtub, letting the hot water relax your muscles. you hear your phone ping, and you reach for it.
hello, professor y/l/n. i have read your email a few times since it was sent.
i accept your apology. i also accept this assignment, and will submit it as my final project grade, as per the rubric allows.
that being said, i will not be in class on thursday due to a prior commitment. feel free to email me back with any questions you may have, only those regarding the assignment will be answered.
signed,
bang christopher chan
spellbound institute of magic
general magic
you glare at the email, and let orange flicker like the light of your limoncello candle. you made no effort to question it, simply letting it slide. you send back an automated reply, sounds good! have a good weekend.
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thursday – november 19.
chan hated meeting his parents in secret.
like it were a crime, to want to see them. he hated acting like it didn’t bother him that his siblings were growing up and he didn’t know them, he didn’t know what they liked, or what they did for fun. he felt so left out of everything, but still framed the photos they sent him. he still tucked their letters in a box for safe keeping, he still yearned to be loved by them.
not that they didn’t love him, but obviously it’s hard to do so from a distance. so they sit in the middle of the forest that surrounds the university, exactly 50 miles from all civilization. they sit there, for hours, and catch up.
“any luck yet?” his father peers at chan over a steaming plate of food, and he shakes his head. “no answers yet. if i don’t find out before the end of the semester, the master sorcerers said they’d figure something out.”
his mother sighs, her spoon stirring the canteen that held her warm coffee. "it'll be alright soon, channie. have you focused on other things? maybe find a nice girl to settle down with?" his father watches as chan visibly tenses, before pulling his wife close. "jagi, maybe that's for another time." she grimaces.
"i disagree. if he's having issues with other parts of his life, he needs to put it on the back burner for a second and figure out other parts. when you can't find a piece of a puzzle, you pick another part to focus on, do you not? the goal of life is to not let one bad thing, or one disappointing moment deter you from finding the answer to your qualms." she rolls her eyes, earning a smile from her husband.
"okay, she has a point." his father relents, and chan just shakes his head. "i'm not ready for a relationship.' "what about that girl, sooyoung?" his mother won't back down and he knows that. "moving on from my love life, i'm content. i'm fine with things, i have my friends, i have my studies. i'll get an answer eventually." he shrugs, trying not to let it show how much it gets to him.
"chan." she slides her arm across the picnic table, grasping his hand gently. "you're not happy. you can't possibly be, with all the turmoil you feel. you're like an angsty teenager who has never stepped outside his room." "yeah, well. life goes on." he mutters, and she feels her heart sink as he pulls his hand away, checking the time on his watch. "i think i'd better start heading back. i have an early day tomorrow." he's lying. they know it, but they begrudgingly allow him to bid them goodbye. they watch him 
walk to his car, and flash his hi-beams as a final farewell before pulling off.
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thursday - november 26.
it's been about a month since chan started taking your class. 
and it's been about a month since he's been able to say a single word to you without the same tone of indignance on the tip of his tongue. seeing him look indifferent in the back of your classroom made it all the better, though, because at least now he was in class. he didn't speak to you unless you spoke to him first, but he was on time and attentive.
you liked something about him, but you didn't really know what. it's quite possible you just have a little lustful wishing for him, but it felt…weird. it felt strange, you could practically feel your skin on fire every time you glanced at him, catching his eyes every once in a while. he never held the gaze for longer than a few seconds. 
as for his violet eyes, you hadn't seen them since. you saw him smile with yugyeom. you've heard him laugh, the sound so sweet to your ears. you hated that your glow was so evident when his giggle resounded in the classroom.
you thought nobody noticed, the students didn't treat you any differently than their own friends. soyeon, minnie and shuhua made it a point to start inviting you out to drinks, and mingyu flirted with you relentlessly. you simply took the interactions in stride, and smiled politely as you kept the lectures going.
but tonight? chan wasn't in class (again) so you didn't have anyone to fawn over. mingyu was front and center, and the girls gathered around him as they conspired amongst themselves. they weren't very secretive, and you could hear them giggling as you floated over.
"what's the joke? i want to laugh, too." you teased with a soft smile, and mingyu flashed you his pearly whites before turning his phone at you.
message from: doyeon
[9:03pm] hey mingyu! tell yug i'm waiting for him at the party, and bring the girls with you!
[9:04pm] see if you can convince your professor to come, too 👀 i've seen her and she's hot! maybe she can take eunwoo off our hands, i'm sick of him moping over jisoo
you chuckle, your glow brightening a bit. "you guys want me to go to a party, at a frat house, on a school night?" shuhua nods her head, a giggle falling from her lips. "c'mon, y/n! live a little, there's going to be so many cute boys there." 
"yeah, y/n! plus, a little bird told me a certain purple eyed boy will be there." minnie wiggles her brows at you, and you smirk. "yeah? chan skipped my class for a party?" you glance at his empty spot on the couch, your glow dimming.
"c'mon, y/n. we all know you have the hots for him." mingyu says matter-of-factly, and you laugh. "i do not! he doesn't even speak in class, i don't know anything about him." you shrug, and mingyu smirks. "i've seen the way you look at him!" minnie chimes in, and you shake your head. "so what if you don't? he's hot and you're into that. he has nice muscles, i've seen him at the gym." mingyu sounds like he's trying to convince you, and you give him a smile before patting his shoulder. his cheeks tinge as you whisper, "are they as nice as yours?" soyeon teases mingyu as you float away, and their words stay with you as the class continues for another forty minutes. you type away at your desk as you bid them goodbye, but don't miss minnie sneaking away from her group to hand you a piece of pink paper.
"the address, in case you do want to see chan tonight." she slides it across the desk, a shy smile playing on her lips as she walks away. you glance at it, grimacing at the beta tau seal.
you sigh, pulling your phone to map the walk there from your apartment, receiving a text from your friend, jihyo.
message from: jihyo <3
[9:55pm] hey, you! come with me to a party, i want to scout for booty tonight 👀 i heard beta tau is having one
message to: jihyo <3
[9:57pm] funnily enough, i was about to text you, i got an invite. captain booty reporting for duty 🫡 wear something hot!
— ☆ — — ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —
the party was already in full swing when you and jihyo arrived, pinkies linked. it was apparently a student's birthday party, a short stop on the baseball team. you didn't keep up with the university's sports, but managed to snag a piece of birthday cake in a cup (meaning you dumped the rest of the pink whitney into your cup, and a splash of lemonade) as you let jihyo roam.
"y/n, you made it! you look so hot." you hear minnie from behind you, and you swirl to see her holding onto mingyu. "hey, guys! sick party, my friend jihyo also wanted to come." you shrug, taking a sip from your cup, and minnie gives you a knowing smile.
"hey, don't worry about it. lover boy hasn't kissed anyone since he's been here." minnie moves her head in the direction behind you, and you twist to see chan holding a red solo cup and talking to another student, short with wire rimmed glasses, and a waist you could only dream of. you turn back to minnie, who just winks at you before pulling mingyu away with her.
your body twists to look at chan, trailing your eyes down his figure. he's got on a white muscle tee, and mingyu had not been lying about his body at all. his chest donned what seems to be a rosary, nestled between his pecs that bounced lightly as he laughed. a sliver of his lower stomach was visible, mostly covered by a jacket he likely took off, but the red on the lapels looked good against his skin. silver hoops looped through his lobes and if you didn't sink your teeth into him soon, you were going to combust.
you don't have a crush on chan. not in the slightest. but, you're not blind.
you decided to worm your way to the bathroom, but you didn't realize his friend had spotted you staring. nor that chan's eyes were on you now, wondering what you were doing at a party on a school night, in that short black skirt and soft, flimsy blouse – with no bra. his eyes roll, asking himself why you manage to torture him this way. your coat is long, and covers most of your thighs as you walk away. he winces at the twitch of his cock against his pants.
"professor! what are you doing here!" you hear yugyeom shout from across the room, eliciting a woo from all the people at the party. you smile, and hold up your cup. "hey, yug!"
he waves you over, and you oblige, downing the rest of your drink. "here, try this! i made it." he holds up a long, brown bottle – and you smirk, letting him pour it into your mouth. a bunch of students are watching you down this burning liquor without a second thought, a low whistle emitting from one in particular.
tall, handsome. nicely chiseled face, hair slicked back. barely dressed. slutty.
not chan.
"who invited the trophy wife of the administration? that was hot as fuck." he leans on soyeon, who huffs and shoves him off. "shut up, san."
minnie screams before you can answer. "i invited her! she's cool as fuck, drinks up and tits out for professor y/l/n! wooo!" the crowd that had formed around you took their drinks, a few girls flashing their breasts at you. you let a laugh rip through you when you spot jihyo smiling at you in the crowd before knocking back the rest of her drink. you point to the hallway, signaling you're going to continue your way to a bathroom, before you suffocate on the smell of buchanan's and cheap beer.
the house gets quieter the deeper you go, aside from soft moans coming from a linen closet, obscene wet noises making you shiver as you turn left, finding a clean bathroom. you leave the door slightly ajar as you splash cool water on your cheeks. you let it drip through your lashes before you grab for the toilet roll, only to see someone slip into the bathroom in the mirror. 
"hey." chan's voice is low as you pat the toilet paper on your face, and you glance at him. "hey. skipped my class for a party, huh?" "what are you doing here?" he doesn't sound upset, moreso amused. his eyes shamelessly rake up your legs, and you give a snort in reply. "minnie invited me, and my friend jihyo wanted to scope out some ass." 
"yeah?" his eyes flicker to yours in the mirror, the violet swirl evident, and you feel your thighs clench in his gaze. your glow starts to change hues, and you roll your eyes as you glow pink instead of your normal yellow. "yeah. why, channie? are you here looking for babes?" you turn, letting the liquor talk as you lean against the sink.
"would it bother you if i was?" he tilts his head, sort of like a lost puppy. you smirk, shaking your head. "why would it bother me if my student wants to get some?" "do you always play this little game with your students, professor?" he takes a step closer, and you curse yourself for glowing a little brighter, but shrug as nonchalantly as you can. "beats being uptight like professor callaghan."
"god, you're so right." he chuckles, before his hands cage you in between his body and the sink. "i bet this glow thing gets really annoying, huh?" "you have no idea." you look up into his eyes, subconsciously tucking your bottom lip under your teeth. you wonder why he’s not questioning the color change, maybe he just knows, maybe he was listening last week. you wonder how many girls he’s gotten with, and how many he’s romanced with those angel eyes of his. "you look good." he says gently, almost as if he's giving you an out. almost as if, he's nervous.
"i taste good, too." you mumble, ghosting your lips over his. you can feel your skin start to singe, but you let him kiss you anyway. you let him lift you onto the sink, parting your legs to stand between them. you let him run his hands up your plush thighs, leaning into the kiss as deep as you can without completely absorbing him.
“can’t you get in trouble for this?” chan doesn’t really care, to be honest. you can tell he doesn’t as he drags his lips down your neck, his fingers tugging your skirt up gently. “hmm, no. not me, anyway. trophy wife of the administration privileges.” 
he laughs against your skin, and you give him a cheeky smile as he kisses your lips again, his thumbs gently working circles into your hips. “i don’t want to do this here. let’s find a room, yeah?” "mmm, i don't think so. students who don't participate in class don't get extra credit." you pout, patting his chest when your phone buzzes in your pocket.
message from: jihyo <3
[11:47pm] saw you dip with cutie, so i cozied up to that mingyu guy
[11:48pm] going back to his, u can get home safe?
[11:49pm] i'll turn around if u can't. bros before hoes 💪🏻
message to: jihyo <3
[11:51pm] go ahead <3 txt me deets l8r he's a massive flirt lol
you slide it back into your pocket, and chan's hands leave your skin. he quietly moves your skirt back into place, and his eyes flicker to meet yours. he doesn't look upset at your rejection, moreso a bit grateful. "you're cute. you ask too many questions, and i'm still upset with you, but you're incredibly cute."
it's just the liquor talking. he won't remember any of this, or change his behavior by tuesday. he seems to hold grudges, but you know it's really just emotional blockage. nothing you can't help with, but everything he won't let you help with.
"maybe come to class and i might let you cum in me. you'd like that, wouldn't you?" you mumble against his lips, a shiver going through his spine. "let me walk you home." he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. you feel your stomach flip, the gesture so cute you just might let him sleep with you. you capture his lips again, sliding your hand up his chest, fingers softly wrapped at the base of his neck. his hand catches your wrist, sliding it higher.
you give it a soft squeeze as you slither your tongue into his mouth, drawing a soft groan from him. he pulls back, your lips chasing after him as he raises an eyebrow. "who's needy now, huh?" "shut up, let's go." you place a peck to his cheek, and you force your glow back to gold, albeit dimmer than normal. he has his hand on the small of your back as you exit the bathroom. he slides it around your waist, his fingers softly digging into your hip before he stops dead in his tracks. "what?"
you're whispering as you follow his eyes, seeing a blond guy in a baseball jersey staring back at him as he sneaks out of the closet you passed. a girl is gripping his hand, floating behind him. the guy turns on his heels, quickly weaving his way through the people crowding the hall, the girl giving a hazy smile as he drags her through.
"in a closet? really?" he shakes his head, and you feel his hand squeeze your waist. "sorry." "no worries. could've been us if you showed up to class." you tease as he guides you through the crowd, and you spot minnie watching you sneak your way through the people. she wiggles her eyebrows, and you just shake your head as chan opens the front door, letting you out first as he grabs his jacket from his friend.
"shit, it's colder than a witch's tits out here." you chatter, and chan quickly joins you on the porch, sliding the jacket over his arms. "it really is. which way do you live?" the walk is quiet, besides the leaves crunching under your shoes. he's close enough that his cologne meets your nose, but not close enough to where you can touch him and not be overdoing it. the taste of his lips was not enough to satiate you.
"why are you so mean to me?" you ask, not daring to look at him. he hums in response, before grabbing your shoulders, swinging his arm over you. you instinctively wrap your own around his waist, your fingers brushing the same sliver of skin you'd eyed earlier that night. you're burning up against him, and he welcomes the heat as your hips bump.
"i'm normally not this uptight." he starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "i don't like answering questions about my personal life, much less my abilities. or lack thereof, rather. it was too soon when you asked, i'm still trying to figure myself out. i'm very lost in that area of my life, and if i don't find out soon, i'm not sure how i'll make a living. please don't think i'm only this way with you, i'm just feeling stuck. it's like i'm running out of time." you take in his words, nodding silently. you know your magic is taking over him as he speaks, because you feel your glow dimming more and more as you keep walking. "i don't know what that feels like, chan. i'm sorry, genuinely. i truly do want you to understand that i am here to help as much as i can, not just as a professor but as…a friend, i guess." "mmh, i don't think you can help." he squeezes your arm gently as you make a left turn. "i'm too far gone, i believe. i thought about what you said, the emotional blockage thing. and i know that you're using your fingers to seep your funky little magic into me so i talk about myself and get things moving for your peace of mind." his fingers pat yours lingering on his hip, and you sheepishly go to move them.
he holds them in place, as you guide him to the gate of your complex. "i don't mind talking to you, or answering your questions. i really, really admire you as a person and sorceress. the selflessness, you're one of the kindest people i've ever had the pleasure of meeting. you just have to give me some time to warm up to you."
he stops in front of the gate, letting you punch in the code before sliding his arm off your shoulders. "i want to apologize for my behavior. i know i've been increasingly bitchy and standoffish, i'm just stressed. i'm sorry, and i'm sorry for taking it out on you. i know you're just trying to help."
"won't you come in? it's rather late and i'd hate to have you walk back alone." your eyes are slightly pleading, and he raises a brow. "are you sure?" 
you shrug, holding the gate open. he walks past you, not comfortable enough to slide his arm over you once more. he feels the warmth of you as you float past, and he follows quietly. unlocking the door, his eyes peer into your apartment, and it's just like your classroom. 
the lights are dimmed, and your couch is the same velvety green. it smells like bambinella pear and bergamot, and your walls are littered with photos and articles. many of them penned by you, he notices, as he skims them. "feel at home?" you chuckle, and he hears the rustling of your coat as you slip it off.
"mhm, it smells nice in here." he nods as he continues observing articles, before bumping into your side table. he looks down and sees a newspaper from seven years ago, a smiling face staring back at him.
spellbound prodigy involved in an automobile accident puts the world of wizardry at risk.
he skims the paper, seeing your name repeated over and over again but yet, no mention of the person in the photo. no age, no name.
"oh, you found that?" you're behind him, and you take hold of the paper, letting it droop over your hands. "who is that?" you sigh, your fingernail tracing the man's face. "minhwi. he was my best friend from primary school until the summer of 2017. that's when the accident happened." setting the paper back down, you pat the picture before floating to the kitchen, your golden glow gone as it begins to turn dark red.
"it's grief, the hue." you wave your hand at yourself as chan leans against the island, his eyes softening as you pour water in a glass, sliding it to him. the color dims as you turn to him, sitting on the bar stool. "i know, you're wondering how i'm involved in the accident."
chan looks down, and you let out an airy chuckle. "god, i hate talking about this." you rub your thighs, before looking up. "he told me he was in love with someone, and i encouraged him to make the hour drive to see her. i even offered to tag along, even though it was into the human world."
you're nervous, and chan can feel it. he rounds the island, sliding onto the stool beside you. you twist to face him as he takes your hands in his. how cute, you think.
"there was a really bad thunderstorm, but minhwi literally used to race cars for money. rain or shine, he was an expert behind the wheel. he won so many, and i was there for almost all of them. he called me his biggest cheerleader." chan's thumb wipes at your face, and you hadn't even known you were crying. you feel your chest ache as his hand lingers, before dropping back to your lap. "lightning struck one of the oak trees lining the backway route into town. minhwi tried to swerve out of the way, and we wound up spinning out. the tree landed on the car, and the weight crushed us, and there was glass everywhere. he died on impact."
you sniffle, and chan's eyes are glossy as he clears his throat. "and you blame yourself?" "absolutely." nodding, you interlace your fingers with chan's. "and the fact that i survived and he didn't, it kills me inside. it's not like he would've been able to, he was a…" you trail off, and chan's eyes match yours in size.
"...he was human." he finished, and you can't look at him. "you exposed the world of magic and our practices, to a human." you stay silent, before his arms envelope you in a hug. the burn you feel is almost debilitating, but you feel blue crawling up your neck as he rubs your back softly. "i'm sorry for your loss, y/n."
"that's it?" you blurt, and he laughs against your neck like he did earlier. "yeah, it's not like i can judge you, and it's not like humans don't know we exist. we're just frowned upon, it's not a crime to involve yourself with them. love makes us do crazy things." he pulls back, and you let blue overtake you. "i'm genuinely sorry about your friend. he sounds like he was a great time." "he was. i haven't talked about him since. all i have left is the scars from the accident." you shrug, taking a sip of your water. "scars?"
you flash a smile at him, before shaking your head. "just know, if i ever do let you in my pants, the shirt stays on, not because i'm insecure but because i hate looking at them."
he nods, a shy look crossing his eyes before he closes them. "can i ask you for a favor? before you go to bed, i mean?" "sure, anything." you tuck your hair behind your ears, sitting up. "that emotional blockage you spoke about, you can…remove that, right? i'm not too sure what your powers are." he mumbles as he picks at his nails, and you smile. "i can. would you like me to do that for you?" his eyes look to yours, and you see fear flash through them. "it doesn't hurt, channie. come on, i can do it right now." you slide off the stool, holding your hand out to him. he takes your hand, but instead of following you, he pulls you towards him.
your chest is flush to his, and you see a subtle blush on his cheeks as he dips his head, lips brushing against yours. you relax in his hold, letting your lips mold against his. you can't feel anything but heat and his tongue teasing yours, but it's no big deal (you're trying to convince yourself at this point.) his hands move to hold your face, his fingers burning your skin when he pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours.
"not tonight, i don't think i'm ready." he whispers against your lips, and you open your eyes to look into his hazy ones. nodding, you press another chaste kiss on his mouth. "whenever you're ready, channie. i'll be here."
"i'll take the couch." he plants one last kiss on your forehead, and you nod. "if you insist. goodnight, channie." "goodnight, y/n." he watches your glowing form trail down the hall, likely towards your bedroom.
and he sees a hint of indigo spreading across your back as you shut the door behind you.
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tuesday – december 15.
chan is a lot nicer as the next two weeks go by. still shows up to class, even early, since your escapade after the party. he finds himself staring at you more often than not, and you're not the only one who notices.
minnie often slips you knowing looks, and you find yourself growing shy as you look to see chan peeking at you over his laptop, eyes glowing that bright violet you've come to adore.
"alright, everybody. have a good weekend!" you smile cheerfully as they file out, your glow now bright blue. the girls had mentioned you looked much more relaxed these days, and you attributed it to 'more sleep.'
you didn't really know what it was. you'd woken up glowing indigo the day after the party, and almost everyday after that. you flickered indigo when you caught chan in the hallway before class on tuesday, and when he hung back a little too long on thursday. really, if you even glanced at chan, you'd flash the dark color and leave the students rubbing at their eyes.
chan, on the other hand, was constantly looking for ways to talk to you.
he saw the flustered flickering, the confusion of your body as it glitched from hue to hue. at one point you had splotches of indigo, pink and your natural gold all over you. you still flirted back at mingyu's advances, albeit he calmed down noticeably. he observed that mingyu was on his phone more often, and you later found out through minnie that he was utterly romanced by jihyo. you thought it funny, and teased him about it (and jihyo, the next time you saw her for coffee and pastries.)
"hey, can we talk?" chan is standing behind you as you wave off your students, and you jump at the closeness. "sure, channie. what's up? is this about your final project?"
it wasn't an unreasonable question. the semester was coming to an end, the students looked visibly stressed and you hadn't heard of any parties since.
but, you knew it was unreasonable for your situation with chan. you never missed his longing glances at your lips, or the fact that he was early to class. his friends changbin and jisung often trailed behind him as he walked to class, and he only introduced you to them because they wouldn't stop badgering him at the doorway. "she's even prettier up close," jisung had said dreamily, and you just gave him a soft smile as you watched him bump into the doorframe.
"not really? maybe." he rubs his neck, and you tilt your head. "what's going on?" 
"uh, i think i'm ready. for what we talked about…the night of the party." he swallows thickly, and you feel taken aback. "oh? what brought this on?" you float to the back, patting the same couch he sits in during class. you tuck your legs under you, holding your head up with the wall. his knees brush yours as he sits, and you wince at the heat you feel in your chest.
"i started the essay you assigned last night." he can't look at you, and you find your stomach to grow increasingly tight. "yeah?" "i can't write anything. i have six drafts already, and i feel so overwhelmed." he's nibbling on his lip, almost as though not to cry. you lean closer, his eyes glassy as they meet yours. frowning, your hand finds home on his jaw, your thumb wiping a few fallen tears. "i'm here, i can help. we can do it here." 
you get up, moving the tables back towards the walls. he watches you as you move, and your back is splotched with indigo. he still doesn't know what it means, but you shiver as it creeps up your neck. your hand flies to your nape, rubbing your skin. it dissipates, returning to your golden glow.
"need an open space. are you sure?" you motion for him to join you in the center of the room, and he nods. you can already feel the same heat on your skin as he settles in front of you, and the same eerie cold of indigo on your shoulders. you huff, sliding your cardigan onto the floor and rolling up your sleeves. "i have to touch your skin for this, okay? and don't worry about anything else, just keep your eyes on me." he's nervous as he lets you take his shaky hands, a soft pout on your lips as you close your eyes. "i got you, okay? i won't let anything hurt you, you're strong." you're muttering, but he finds comfort in your words. he's sure you say this to everybody.
until you start glowing a blinding blaze of indigo, your face scrunched, wincing as the room cools significantly. you're brighter than he's ever seen, possibly brighter than the fluorescent lights that line the university halls. your grimace grows as you furrow your brows deeply, the glow around you seemingly like a flame. he just watches silently as you drop one of his hands.
"can you lift your shirt for me?" your voice is strangled. your eyes are screwed shut, and he quickly does so, your hand trembling as it makes contact. your skin feels like it's on fire, and you don't know what's happening that you can only hear ringing. you'd never felt anything this intensely, but you persist as your hand palms around his torso, before reaching the center. you splay your fingers, pressing into his skin. 
you flash green for a second, so quick he almost misses it.
sliding your hand up his chest, you find the base of his throat. a sigh slips through your lips, and you pull him closer. placing his hand on your waist before moving yours in his hair. you flash slightly pink as he slips his other hand on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. 
"this might feel a little cold." you murmur, and you dim entirely. the glow around you is now gone, a soft grey floating off you. it runs to the floor, like sand, and forms different grainy figures. kind of like…sandcastles. you open your eyes, despite the damn near inferno heat where your skin meets his.
"these are all your blockages." you pull his shirt down, and move his hands from your hips. to your right, is a grainy woman that splits into several more women. next to her, are two figures, who seem to disappear into another figure, a forest. you skirt around him, holding him in place with a hand on his hip. behind him, is another figure.
shaped kind of like you. your thighs, your arms, your hair.
"what…do they mean?" you're snapped out of your process by his voice, and you sigh. "this one…channie, you have to find better coping mechanisms. sleeping with women for stress relief is not good for you. i know it feels good, but there are other things you can do. ever tried puzzles?"
you sink to the floor, pulling him with you. you move the figures next to each other in front of you, the sand-like texture sticking to your skin. gesturing to the women, you keep talking.
"casual sex is awful, when you compare it to relationship sex. shit, even hate sex. at least you feel something other than lust for the person you're fucking." you grimace, and he nods. with a wave of your hand, the sand collapses. "these next three…you can pick which you want first." he glances at them, his hand subconsciously searching for yours. you grab it, and he points at the two people. you let your skin burn as you begin to talk, his fingers tightening around your palm. "these…are your parents, and the forest around the university." the room stills, and chan lets go of your hand. "what about them?" "you're afraid they're not proud of you. you feel like you're missing out on your experiences with them, because…" you wince as an aftershock racks your body, making you shiver. you miss chan's nervous glance. "because they're distant. you feel like an outcast from your family, and it affects the way you form bonds here. it's hard for you to build friendships, and it's hard for you to establish relationships because you fear being loved. or maybe loving, and not being loved back"
taking a breath, you pull your knees to your chest.
"the forest is representative of your lost feeling. all the trees look the same, and it makes you feel like you're constantly going in circles. everyone here is identical, we all have something special. you find it hard to relate because although you know there is something that makes you like us, you're unaware of what it is." he nods, and you let the figures drop.
"this one…" you're mumbling, and he leans slightly closer to hear you. sighing, you pull the figure of you closer. raising your arm, the figure raises her arm. "that's me." his head snaps to look at you, your eyes burning holes into the floor. you glance at the figure, collapsing it. all the figures pool together, and you lean forward, blowing it like you would dust off a bookshelf. it disappears, and chan leans back on his hands.
"what about you?" he murmurs, and you shake your head, moving to lie through your teeth. "i don't know." "you're lying." you feel your glow return, flickering gold. "y/n, tell me what it means." "i can't." you shrug, "i don't know what it means. did this help? do you feel better?"
he's peering at you, his eyes swirling violet. you raise a brow as you look at him over your shoulder, and he just shakes his head. getting up, he stalks back to the couch. you watch as he shoves his arms into his hoodie, and you simply get up, floating towards your desk.
he grabs your arm, pulling you closer to him. you sense the frost of indigo across your mid-back. you turn his hold, eyes glued to his fingers wrapped around your arm. "why?"
"hm?" "why can't you tell me?" his eyes are insistent in their violet glory. chills run down your back, indigo spreading over your hips as you run your eyes over him. he's so beautiful. "because…i can't reciprocate."
he doesn't understand, you can tell as he keeps looking at you. kind of like he wants to eat you alive, but also like he wants you to vanish.
"it means you're in love with me, or you will be. you don't like the idea of it, because it means you'll have to open up to me. that kind of…figure doesn't change, even if you want it to. you won't get the option to leave me out of your heart, and it will be unrequited for the rest of our lives. you will love me, forever, and you won't get a say in it." he lets go, brows furrowed, and his face is deep red in embarrassment. you take a step forward, and your hands instinctively reach for his waist. he allows it as he crosses his arms across his chest, his eyes fixated on you, waiting for you to speak.
"i can't love, chan." you whisper, and feel indigo overwhelm you. pursing your lips, you look down so as to not let him see the tears forming. "trust me when i say i wish i could. i wish i could love you, the way you deserve. i could wake up every morning and reach for you, but you would never be there because i can't give you what you need." the tears are dripping off your face now, pattering on the rug beneath your feet. you let go of him, your fingers tugging your shirt up, slipping it over your head. your hair falls to your shoulders, and you push it back, dropping your shirt on your desk. his eyes soften as he looks at the curve of the wide scar – like an insignia, it's carved into your skin. it starts on your shoulder, curving around it the way a fallen bra strap would. it trails down your sternum, before splitting at your diaphragm. a sharp point ends right under your left breast, while the other curves to the right of your belly button, ending on your hip.
"there is nothing i could do in this world that could ever get me in trouble, because i have this." speaking softly, you lift the cup of your bra, showing him where x marks the spot – directly above your heart. "the coven said this was my punishment for minhwi's involvement in this world, and the outrage i sparked. i can't feel love, and i haven't for so long that even if i did, i wouldn't know what it's like. i won't ever feel what it's like to be loved again, because i don't deserve it."
chan's eyes are glossed over as he brings his hand to your skin, the singe making you grimace as his fingers trace the border lightly. he tucks his lip in his teeth as he touches your shoulder, and your glow flickers slightly brighter. he pulls you in, burying his nose in your hair. "everyone deserves love. this is not your fault, i'm sorry things happened this way." you pull back, his eyes glistening with tears as he thumbs the scar on your shoulder. you give him a sad smile, shrugging in his hold. "it's life. life goes on, but for what it's worth…if i could, i'm sure you'd take great care of me."
"i still can." he says, reaching for your shirt. "i'm a pleaser, really. reciprocation has never been an issue." 
"are you seriously making a pass at me? after i just told you all of that? have some shame." you let an airy chuckle slip through your lips as you take your shirt from him, and he just smiles. one, two dimples. "not being able to love doesn't mean you shouldn't be able to cum. just saying." you gasp, landing a gentle smack on his arm before sliding your shirt on. "chan, stop it! what did i say about casual sex, hm?" pointing an accusatory finger in his direction, he cages you between your desk and his firm chest. "didn't we just talk about this? you know it's not casual." you know it's not casual.
"just once, think about yourself, yeah? do yourself a favor." he places a chaste kiss on your nose, and you feel your cheeks heat as he peppers his lips over them. you let a giggle bubble in your throat, his lips stopping over your lips. "just think about it." he gives your lips a quick kiss, before pulling back.
"it's late, let me walk you home?" he offers a gentle look in his eyes. you just nod, grabbing your purse from the back of your desk. you decide you'll move the tables back on thursday, sliding your cardigan up your arms. "aren't you cold?" he asks, sliding his arm over your shoulders like he did the night of the party, as you lock the classroom door.
"no, actually. i don't know if you feel it, but every time you touch me, i feel like i'm on fire." you chuckle lightly as you start walking, and his breath hitches. glancing at him, he just moves the two of you forward. "chan?" "mhm?" he doesn't look at you, and you stop walking. crossing your arms, he sighs. "it's not a big deal." he shrugs, trying to shake the subject by tugging you slightly closer. you frown, wrapping your arms around his waist. your eyes are fixed on him, and he can't help but coo.
"you're so pretty." he squishes your face with his free hand, and continues walking forward. "does it bother you?" you ask, your fingers drumming on his hip. the air is so frigid, and so is indigo as it fights chan's warmth. you just have to let me warm up to you.
he did so awfully fast.
"does what bother me?" he's tracing circles in your shoulder, the movement scorching. he seems so relaxed, so unperturbed by anything. you'd never seen his face so calm, used to the furrow of his brows or the bags under his eyes darker than they should be. "the fact that i won't be able to love you back." he chuckles, fingers squeezing your shoulder. "i'm used to it, as pathetic as it sounds. love is not my forte, or for the people around me. jisung is surprisingly able to get into almost anyone's pants, and can't settle down for shit. changbin is sickeningly in love with his best friend, and do you remember that guy we saw at the party? the one sneaking out of the closet?" 
you nod, and he laughs. "that's seungmin. that girl he was with, they broke up back in august. they've been fucking around ever since. if they're both at a party, they're hooking up. can't seem to stay away from each other, in a desperate attempt to stay on each other's minds, i guess? it's cute, i think." he shrugs. you feel your heart skip a beat, looking  down to see a white glow on your chest. you ignore it, probably glowing silver as you feel the emptiness, the longing to understand what he means.
"so no. it doesn't bother me, it never will. you get used to it."
it pains you a bit, to hear him sound so…well, used to it. so accustomed to settlement, so unbothered by a lack of reciprocation. selfless, really.
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wednesday – december 16.
chan wound up spending the night at your apartment. he insisted on taking the couch before you physically pulled him into your room. the moment his back hit the mattress, he ate his words as you tickled him, forcing him to admit that it was more comfortable.
really, you'd just wanted an excuse to wake up next to him. maybe see his bed head, run your fingers through it, exchange a morning kiss. all of that stupid couple shit that you would never fully experience.
because love makes you do stupid things, like spin out on a backroad and die. so you don't deserve to feel it, and really, it keeps you safe. you have no idea what it's like to love anymore and you pretend you're okay with it. you soothe by saying that not all can be felt, not all that can be desired should be had.
but fuck, if you didn't like chan before, you certainly do now.
there's no reason for this. for him standing in your living room, holding a cup of coffee as he reads through the articles you've written and framed. for him to look so cute in your old abba shirt that's too tight on his arms, for his eyes to be swollen with sleep as he blinks over the mug. for him to be so effortlessly unaware of his beauty, of his own effects. on you, on the people in his life.
"you're up." his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you feel your cheeks heat as you nod. "your hair is a mess. here, let me fix it." 
he sets down his cup, calmly running his hand through your mussed hair. the curls fight him as he tucks them behind your ears, his fingers lingering on your lobes as you stare at him. your indigo glow reflects on his skin, his head tilted as he speaks. "what? cat got your tongue, professor?"
your mouth opens to retort, but you have nothing to say. nothing comes out. you feel orange flicker through you as you close your mouth, earning a squeaky laugh from the man in front of you. "cute. there's coffee in the kitchen, i just made it." 
he doesn't have morning classes on wednesdays, you figure as he follows you to the kitchen. because it's eleven thirty and he's still in your apartment, in your shirt, with his hands on your waist, and you don't care one bit as you pour yourself a cup of coffee.
"are you upset? you haven't said a word." his thumbs work into the small of your back, and you shudder at his touch, before you shake your head. "i'm not used to having people here so early." "it's nearly noon, y/n." he laughs airily, his breath tickling your neck. "still, so early." 
you try and ignore the heat in your chest, far stronger than it had ever been before as his fingers carefully dip below the waistband of your sweats, coming out just as quickly. "you weren't in bed when i woke up." you're muttering, but his proximity makes him hear you anyway.
"aw, did you want to wake up in my arms like they do in the movies?" he's teasing you. you scoff in embarrassment, eyes not catching the subtle white glow on your chest as you turn in his hold. "no way, pft. i like spreading my limbs like a starfish, you were crowding me all night." "hey, i offered to take the couch." he shrugs, and you just shake your head. "should've insisted a little more, then i wouldn't have felt so cold when i realized you weren't there." you joke as you set down your cup, and he raises a brow. "didn't think it would bother you, but that can be fixed." "chan–" you squeal as he hooks his arms under your thighs, your own flying to his shoulders. your legs wrap around his waist as he marches the both of you to your bedroom. "chan, don't you have classes today?" "don't you?" he kisses your forehead gently as he sets you down on your bed, pushing you back lightly. you roll your eyes, trying to hide your excitement as he slips under your duvet. he tugs you closer, your back to his chest. if he cares about the scorching heat of your skin touching, he doesn't mention it as he settles his head in the crook of your neck, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. he holds your hand tightly, nestling it between your breasts. "if you wanted to touch my boobs, you could've just asked." "shut up, let me hold you. be selfish, for once." he nips at your earlobe, and you sigh. tender kisses trail your neck, and you can feel pink creeping down your thighs as he gives your hand a squeeze. "is this okay?"
"mhm." you can't speak as he lets go of your hand, fingers dancing across the exposed skin of your hip where your shirt has ridden up. he doesn't go up, but instead softly dips into the waistband of your sweats, snapping your underwear against your skin. a whine slips, and you freeze as he pauses. "should i stop?" his voice is raspy in your ear, and your hand grabs his wrist, bringing it lower. "it's alright. you can keep going. f-further, if you want."
you curse yourself at the stutter, hearing a soft chuckle in his throat as his fingers pad over the fabric of your panties. your breath hitches in your throat as he circles the wet spot you've been presented with, a shaky sigh escaping chan as he rocks against you. you feel pink envelope in its warmth as you turn onto your back, holding his hand in place as you capture his lips. he kisses you back fervently, his fingers never stopping their movements on your clothed heat. 
"c-can you…" you whimper against his lips, his hand never slowing as you move against it, brows furrowed. he watches as you try to form words, your eyes screwed shut as your hand tugs his away. "can you go d-down on me?" barely a whisper as you peel your eyes open, and he swears they hold the stars.
"i'd kill a man if you asked me." he shrugs, and you just roll your eyes. tugging your sweats off, he gets a glimpse of the way your panties stick to your lower lips, his heart racing in his chest knowing he's got you soaking.
he could make you cum with them on. he's positive.
spreading your thighs slowly, he watches as you hook your thumbs into the waistband. he pushes your hands away, not bothering to address your confusion as he holds them in place, sinking between your legs. he can't help but tease, dragging his soft lips up your skin, watching you shudder at the contact. he moves to grip your hips, your shirt rising and the end of your scar becoming visible. his eyes flicker to yours, "shirt stays on, right?"
"y-yeah." you look away, and he rubs your hip reassuringly. "s'alright, baby. i can make you cum just like this, if you want."
it's not a question, you can tell as he kisses the pink cotton of your panties. he has no intention of taking them off, he might not even fuck you, but you don't care. all that matters are his eyes peering into your fucking soul as he dips his head down, a chaste kiss pressed to your hip. he trails down, hands circling your plush thighs as he litters them with kisses. your eyes are watching him nervously, lip tucked under your teeth to stop the soft pants from echoing the room. you feel like you can't breathe as he pulls you closer to his face, pressing that strong nose into you, inhaling deeply. "you smell so fucking good, baby." he's not even doing anything, but the vibrations of his moan against you elicit a whimper from your throat, making you buck your hips forward. his grip tightens as he nuzzles his nose against your clit, placing a soft kiss on it before he speaks against it.
"be nice, or i'll make you scream." he smiles into your underwear, tonguing your clit through the fabric. he watches as your glow grows brighter, pulling you impossibly closer. he's letting you grind on his face, to use him for your pleasure, and you'd be lying if that doesn't make you that much more wet for him. "y-you don't want to take them off?"
your stuttering is adorable to him, and the way your fingers card through his hair and tug adds to his own pleasure. shaking his head, he snaps the waistband against you again, "you're so needy, aren't you? can't get off just like this?" "channie, p-please. please, i want your f-fingers." he hums against your clit, continuing his cruel lapping, the sound of your pussy against his face obscene and sloppy. "you can beg better than that. tell me how bad you want it, baby." "w-want it so bad, channie, please. please, i'll be g-good for you, p-promise. s-so good." you're almost sobbing, and he almost feels bad. a gentle laugh leaves his throat as he thumbs your slit, leaving sticky strings against his skin as he gives in. "so good? so, so good for me? is that right?" he slides the flimsy fabric down your legs, the exposure to the cool air making you shiver. he's watching your face contort as he collects your arousal on his fingers, before slowly teasing your entrance. "i swear to god, chan-" your retort gets cut off by a gasp, his fingers hitting just right, his lips sucking tortuously on your clit. he likes it messy, is all you can think in your fucked out state as you coat his entire hand in your slick, feeling him groan against your pussy.
"look at you, so pretty. you're a good girl for me, right? you're gonna soak the sheets, hm?" he feels you clamp around his fingers, another wave of your arousal glazing his palm as you sob. "fuck, you sound so hot." "c-channie..." you rasp, your voice so low he almost misses it. he peers at you over your soft tummy, your lips swollen and covered in your spit from biting back your moans. you're actively whining, grinding against his hand in a weak attempt at reaching your release. "aw, baby wants to cum? is that it?"
you whimper, making him curl his fingers inside your wet heat. he seemed to have found the perfect spot as you arched your back off the bed, attempting to pull away from him. his left arm holds you tightly in place, your fingers clutching his wrist as your choked moan rings blissfully in his ears. your thighs close around him, his soft shh doing nothing to quiet you down as you let your orgasm wrack your legs. his lips pepper kisses all over your pelvis, mumbles of praises as he works his way up. 
he hovers over your face, pressing his soft lips on your cheek. you wrap your arms around his neck, shivering at the way his fingers pinch your clothed nipple lightly. "you can give me one more, right? just one more, princess." he's murmuring against your skin, and you nod as he reaches your lips. 
"just one more?" you nip at his lower lip, before sinking in to kiss him. "just one. want to feel you around me, want to know how good i'm making you feel." you realize it's important to chan, despite what he said the night before. he wanted to be praised, he wanted to make somebody proud, even if this was the only way he felt he could do it. he could act like he's this statue, this emotionless, needless creature of nature – but he also desired approval, to be needed, to be wanted.
to be loved.
you don't say anything as you let his hands push your knees to your chest, his lips now suckling on your nipple through your shirt. your hands move to his head, pushing it away as you go to slip it off. his hands let go of your legs, entwining your fingers with his brows furrowed. "you don't have to." "i want to." you quip back quickly, tugging your fingers out of his grasp. you hook them at the hem of your shirt, lightly lifting off the bed to slide it off. he hesitates, his eyes tracing the curves of the raised skin. the way it glows lightly, almost as though it's losing its defined edges.
his eyes flicker to yours, your gaze intently scanning his face. did you think he'd be disgusted? maybe even repulsed? lowering his head, he brushed a kiss to your lips, before he allowed himself to sink to your chest. you breathed in nervously, your fingers gripping the sheets next to your body when you felt his mouth planting feather-light touches to your scar.
he can feel your skin heat under his face, the more he travels along the healed welt. the glow is slightly brighter than your overall pink, as you shudder under him, his hands pulling your fingers into his, the crumpled sheets forgotten as he pins your arms above your head.
"you're so beautiful. gorgeous, ethereal. no words could express how lovely you are." he whispers as he presses one final kiss where x marks the spot, and you jolt lightly at the singe you feel. it spreads, the whole insignia across your torso burning deeply as he moves back. his eyes are flashing with something you can't read. "chan…" "sorry." he shakes his head, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hands. you tilt your head at him, before glancing at his body, a smile spreading on your plump lips. "are you going to fuck me with all your clothes on?"
"i can." he smiles, and you raise an eyebrow. "off, all of it." 
standing off the side of your bed, he tugs your old abba shirt off, and you watch with sinful eyes as he flings it away. "stop staring at me." he whispers, and you shake your head playfully. "you said you'd kill a man if i asked, and gave me the best head of my life, but i can't watch you strip?" 
"the best, huh?" he ignores everything else he slips his sweats off, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed. "don't get cocky, or this won't count as extra c-credit." your eyes peer at him, the leaking head of his thick cock already teasing your folds lightly. his hands circle your legs once more, pulling one over his shoulder while folding the other close to your chest. he stares at your soaked cunt, the way it clenches around nothing. so inviting, so wet, so ready for him.
"that's alright, let's count it as the first class i missed. what was it, getting to know me? ask me something." he continues his teasing, watching as you squirm against him. "uhm, o-okay. what's your favorite color?"
"really?" he rubs against you lightly, his tip dragging over your clit so menacingly, you swear you could cum from just that. "hm, i like black." "black is an ab-absence of color, fuck." you dig your nails into your thighs as he shallowly thrusts into you, the lack of warning wracking a shudder up your spine. "mm, if you can't keep talking there's going to be an absence of dick in about two seconds."
"n-no, no please. shit, that feels so good." you can't keep your eyes open as he slowly sinks further into you, stilling his movements as you tuck your lip into your teeth. "ah, ah. eyes open, keep talking to me." his fingers lightly tap your cheek, your skin burning in embarrassment as you peel your eyes open. "next question, baby." "b-biggest accomplishment so f-far?" you swallow thickly as his hips are flush against your ass, allowing you to adjust to the size of him before making any more movements. he leans his head against your ankle, brows furrowed as he speaks. "probably making you cum so hard, you cry." you narrow your eyes as you look at him, "you h-haven't, though?" "but i will." he kisses your shin, giving an experimental thrust of his hips. your eyes flutter shut, a silent gasp from your lips turning to soft mewls as he starts a gentle pace. "next question." "d-do you believe in love at first s-sight?" you feel him hesitate, before he gives you a particularly harsh thrust. "somewhat." he rubs your thigh gently before continuing his brutal ministrations. "harder, please." silently, he obliges, letting your breathy moans fill his ears instead of talking. he hates talking, he hates answering questions, but he can't help and adore the tone of your voice, the softness of your queries, the avoidance in answering his.
"you feel so good, channie, holy shit." he can feel you clenching tightly around him, but lets your praise take precedence. the way you're arching your back off the mattress, hairline lined with beads of sweat as you let him fuck into you, just the way you like. the way you seem to love, as he lowers to whisper in your ear. "next question."
the proximity makes everything feel like it's a thousand degrees, your hands flying to his hair as he sucks on your collarbone lightly. "favorite s-song? ah!' you hiss at his teeth on your skin, feeling his grin against you.
"your voice." his thrusts are slowly becoming less steady, but you don't care. you don't care because his skin is scorching hot, he's holding you to him, you can feel the air of his pants against your neck and he feels so good.
there's no reason for this. for him to be blissfully ruining you while holding you flush to his chest, your nipples touching with every roll of his hips. for him to look so good while he defiles you, the way you're not even speaking coherently in his ear. for your soul to feel like it's aching for more of him, but how much more could you have when you can't love him. for him to be so effortlessly unaware of his beauty, of his own effects, on you, as the white-hot of your orgasm starts approaching fast.
"i…" you feel a sob rip through you, and he instinctively pulls away from you. "hey, hey. it's alright, baby." guilt fills his chest, his hands holding your face as the tears stream down your cheeks. "it's alright, we don't have to–" pushing yourself up on your elbows, you smash your lips to his, feeling yourself glow so hot you're practically on fire. it's all teeth and tongue, and you're wrapping your fingers around his throat before he can react. squeezing gently, he whines into your mouth, his hips snapping erratically against you. you swallow his sounds in your quiet sobs, the tears dripping down your neck doing nothing to cool you down. 
"y/n…" he whines pitifully against your lips, and you can feel his pout emerge as you clench around him. he settles his face in the crook of your neck, cheeks flushed. "p-please don't stop, don't stop, e-ever…" you're just as needy as he is, throwing your head back as he bites at your shoulders, your hand on his throat tightening as he sends you over the edge.
"fuck, baby." the whimper into your shoulder does nothing good for him as you clench around him, milking whatever is left of him, hips driving you both into overstimulation. he slows, his head lifting from your shoulder to peer into your eyes. you avoid them, letting go of his throat and wiping them off with the back of your hand.
the room feels heavy, with guilt. shame. maybe even a bit of hatred, but you’re not entirely sure as he kisses you gently, chastely, before pulling back. his eyes hold the sun, the stars, the moon.
"guess you got your biggest accomplishment, huh?" you chuckle thickly, and he shakes his head, pulling out slowly. his eyes avert to your center, watching his cum drip out of you slowly. he feels weird, it's such a waste. "are you okay? i should've asked sooner, i'm sorry." "no, no. it was…it was really good." you admit, feeling your glow flicker. you close your legs, scooting up on the bed as he reaches for your shirt, you cross your arms over your chest, fingers digging into your sides. "i really liked it, actually." "are you sure?" he's absent, you can tell as he wipes the back of your legs gently, before tossing the shirt over his shoulder. "i'm sorry for crying, i know it was really sudden. i just felt so overwhelmed and you felt so good, and i…" you trail off, and he feels his cheeks heat, shaking his head again. "no, it's fine. that was the goal, after all. i…do you want me to go?" your brows furrow, and you tilt your head. "go? why would i want you to go?" he shrugs, not meeting your eyes as he tugs on his sweatpants. "i don't know, i usually leave after…things like this." "what happened to 'you know it's not casual?'" you use air quotes, and you see his cheeks burn bright red. "i…i don't think i'd be able to do this, especially after what we talked about yesterday."
"do…what? we just had sex, it's not a big deal." you uncross your arms, ignoring your blatant nudity as he slips your abba shirt to you, taking it just to toss it to the side. "...act like i don’t care. i really, really like you, y/n, and i already feel so guilty about this." he can't look at you as he slips his hoodie on, the one you'd thrown over your desk chair last night when he said it was too hot to wear to bed.
you close your mouth, pressing your lips into a firm line as you grab the shirt, tugging it over your head. "i figured this would happen. maybe you should go, chan. clear your head, and we can talk later."
your brows are furrowed as you open your bedroom door, and he swallows thickly. he knew what he was getting himself into, so why does it bother him now? he said he wouldn't care, he said it so confidently.
and yet, he can't bring himself to say a word as he slams out of your apartment, eyes full of tears. leaving you feeling dejected, guilty and alone.
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thursday – december 17.
it wasn't until the next day that you noticed it was significantly smaller.
it didn't curve under your breast anymore, the subtle x on your skin gone. it didn't wrap around your shoulder anymore, and it stopped right next to your navel. the scarred skin was now a bit paler, and you'd grimaced as you tugged your shirt on.
you couldn't be arsed with thinking about it, really, because now you had to walk into your classroom and face chan. of course, the chances of him not being there were fifty-fifty.
which inherently, made you feel worse.
you didn't understand why you couldn't stop thinking about his words, and what he said. your voice was his favorite song, he didn't care if you loved him or not, he somewhat believed in love at first sight? he'd met you officially a little over a month ago, no one can fall in love that quickly.
groaning, you felt orange flicker across your body as you let your heels clack against the saltillo tile of the hallway, tossing your half-empty coffee cup in the trash can. upon entering your room, the air feels…cooler.
chan is sitting on the couch, his legs squished together as minnie and shuhua peer at his face. soyeon, mingyu and yugyeom are flipping through various textbooks, each talking about what could have caused a sudden irischroma shift. he probably feels the heat of your stare, his eyes flickering to yours.
they're a deep, deep indigo color. they flash lightly at the sight of you, and minnie looks up to see you standing at your podium. "y/n…you've gotta come see this." "i can…i can see it, minnie." your voice is faint as you feel your chest searing hot, your hand coming to soothe it. clearing your throat, you shake your head as you feel a little weary, shuhua approaching you quickly. "are you okay? y/n?" "yes, i'm okay." your breathing becomes a little labored, soyeon and mingyu rushing to your side as you sink to the floor. "just give me some room." your hands touch the cool floor, and you can feel yourself dimming by the second. 
"gyu, get help." minnie shoves mingyu out the door, and you can hear his footsteps fading as he runs to the infirmary. "chan, help me pick her up." yugyeom urges, and you weakly shake your head.
"i'm fine, i'm okay." you choke out, your hand clutching your chest as you feel chan's warm hands on your arms, circling around to lift you gently. "easy, easy. i got you, baby." he murmurs, and you feel your eyes sting with tears as he lets you slump against him, your glow fading fast.
"stay with me." his fingers dig into your side as he picks you up bridal style, carefully walking you over to the couch. yugyeom pulls their backpacks off, letting him lower you gently. minnie fans you with a stack of papers. chan peers at your face, your brows pinched as you breathe in as deeply as you can, his thumb instinctively padding at the crease. huffing, you tear his hand away, lacing your fingers in his. he acts like his heart doesn’t lurch forward.
"alright, everybody, back up." mingyu's voice rings in the room, and your bleary eyes can barely make out the oxygen mask that nurse taeyeon is slipping over your face. "there, there, professor. we got you."
you're shivering as she instructs chan to lift you onto the gurney on three, and you almost cry at the loss of contact when he sets you down. "chan, chan." your voice is nearly a whisper, and the students watch as you flicker, your glow lost as it glitches between colors. 
"maybe you should go with her." yugyeom nudges him as nurse taeyeon glances at him, and she crosses her arms as chan nods slowly,slipping his bag over his shoulder. he takes nurse taeyeon's place at the end of the gurney, rolling you quietly out of the classroom. you're flickering from color to color as he walks slightly faster at nurse taeyeon's command.
"what happened?" she asks, and chan shakes his head as they take a sharp turn, your groan resounding in the hall. "i'm not sure, she just started clutching her chest and basically fell to the floor." nodding, taeyeon stays quiet the rest of the walk, her eyes only glancing at his worried expression and your hazy one. they're in love, she thinks. this is love.
taeyeon can't really help you. her powers lay in the herbalism field, she has no idea what's wrong, and she can't get a specialist here fast enough. she watches as chan carefully positions you in the empty room, letting his bag slide onto the floor before taking a seat at the foot of the bed. she simply sighs, calling that she'd be back with a rosemary tea and to just sit tight as she calls for the master sorcerers.
his hand gently strokes your ankle, making you flinch. "chan, chan i can't breathe." you tug at your collar, and he quickly reaches to unbutton your top buttons. "it's gonna be okay, angel." he's whispering as your hand grasps his wrist, the oxygen mask doing little to help as you wheeze.
"chan…" his head lifts, and your eyes are teary as you hear footsteps approaching hurriedly. he doesn't acknowledge you as the master sorcerers burst into your room, taeyeon trailing behind them with a steaming cup. "excuse me, coming through." she perches at the edge of the bed, carefully pulling you up. you whimper softly, and chan feels his heart ache at your pain. "drink this, it'll help your stress. that's probably what this is, just some anxiety."
taeyeon's tone is soft as she takes off the oxygen mask, the master sorcerers waiting until they can swoop in. neither of them acknowledge chan, despite getting to know him insanely well over the past few years. he could dare to think that they were afraid of him, of not knowing what he was. master sorcerers my ass, he thinks.
"i can't…" you're breathless, and taeyeon's gaze softens as she lets you slump down on the pillow once more. "it's alright. the master sorcerers are here, okay? they'll take care of you." she pats your shoulder, and you nod wearily as the grandest of all, dr. kang seulgi, takes a step forward.
"bang chan, why are you here?" her sharp voice echoes in the room, and your hand weakly reaches for him as he slides off the bed. "i brought her in, dr. kang."
"i see. you can evacuate the premises." she waves him away nonchalantly, and he frowns deeply as he steps back, your eyes fixed on him. almost like you're begging him to stay.
"i think i'll stay, actually." he blurts, and dr. kang's eyes snapped to him. "i'm not asking you, chan, i'm telling you." "let the boy stay, what's the harm?" dr. min's voice rings from his spot against the door frame, and chan glances up at the nimble man. "c'mon, seulgi."
"yoongi, if you undermine me again, you're sleeping on the couch." she grits, her wedding band to dr. min glinting in the low light as she rubs her temples. your hand reaches for chan once more, a soft groan from your lips catching his attention. he takes it, entwining your fingers quickly, kneeling at your side. "of course, jagi. y/n, what seems to be the problem?" dr. min pushes past, noting the undone buttons of your blouse. your chest is glowing, but the rest of you is the dimmest indigo he'd ever seen. much less, having seen you never glow indigo. your breathing is still labored, chest glowing brighter as chan once more rubs the pinch of your brows away.
"y/n, i'm going to open your shirt, okay?" dr. kang pushes past dr. min, her nimble fingers undoing the rest of the buttons. your scar is illuminated, but…it's not really there. it's faded, and chan can tell this is out of the ordinary as dr. kang's brows raise.
"yoongi." her voice is low, bringing her husband to her side. "oh, my."
their eyes meet, as though they're speaking telepathically. dr. kang's eyes flash gold as she furrows her brows, her husband grimacing as his own flash green. they glance at chan, who is gingerly moving your hair out of your face, his fingers barely ghosting over your sticky skin.
you can barely see him through your foggy eyes, but you're scanning him intently. you can see the glowing indigo of his eyes, that matches yours. you're dimming, but he's brighter than ever and it sends a shiver up your spine. his hand squeezes yours, a wave of heat attacking your chest.
dr. kang looks back, her husband staring intently at her.
"he healed her, it seems." his eyes speak, and she shakes her head. "he's not a healer, remember? we tried that already." yoongi nods, eyes fluttering back to the both of you. chan's now sitting on the edge of the bed, your arm draped over his lap as he speaks to you gently. he can't hear what chan is saying, but the glint of adoration in his eyes tells him all he needs to know.
"chan, can i see you in the hallway?" dr. min speaks, and your head turns to him. you pout, your eyes filling with tears as chan pulls away from you. dr. kang gives him a hard glare as she takes his place, her cool hand placed directly on your hot skin, making you groan.
"yes, dr. min?" chan's eyes are enticing, and dr. min shrugs. "let's try a little something, hm?" chan follows dr. min's line of vision, the door of the bathroom ajar. dr. min makes a gesture for chan to wait, before ducking into the bathroom, shutting the door. chan hears a loud crash, and dr. min appears just as fast, with a bloody fist.
"dr. min, are you alright? i can get nurse taeye-" dr. min places his free hand over chan's mouth, a knowing look in his eyes as he holds up his injured hand. "heal me, chan." "what? sir, i'm not a healer, you know that." chan furrows his brows, and dr. min shakes his head. "channel it." dr. min's eyes are boring into chan's soul as he looks away, shivering as he tries to channel any sort of magical energy for this injury. he's not surprised when nothing happens, and dr. min nods his head.
dr. min simply heals it himself, and chan looks away as the skin closes quickly, the dried blood disappearing before his eyes. vitalis mendacium, he thinks it's called. "chan, i think i may have an idea of what's going on with professor y/n." dr. min clasps his hands together in front of him, and chan tilts his head.
"you're in love with her, aren't you?" dr. kang's voice rings from the doorway of your room, and chan gapes at her. "w-what?" "don't play dumb. she told me she helped you clear some emotional blockage on tuesday, and she showed up in your blockages." dr. kang crosses her arms, and a groan is heard from you, chan flinching at the sound. "chan, this is dangerous territory." his eyes narrow as he shakes his head. "i don't think what you did to her was right. i think we all deserve a chance at love, no matter our mistakes. you're wrong, dr. kang." dr. kang scowls, "you think we did this to her? the old coven did it, we had no say!" she points between herself and her husband, and dr. min places his hand on her shoulder.
"chan, seulgi is right. in this world, there is no amount of study done that could reverse what the old coven has done to y/n. they cursed layers upon layers of punishment on her, this was never intended to be something that could be undone." dr. min speaks slowly, and chan can hear you whining in the room behind the couple. he's antsy, he feels sick to his stomach knowing you're a mere ten feet away and he can't make you feel better. 
"i don't know what to do." dr. kang admits lowly, her hand covering her eyes as she looks away from the men in front of her. "i think…" dr. min trails off as chan pushes past them, sliding next to you. he watches chan fan you with his hand, your own wrapped around his waist as you shiver.
"you trust me, right?" he looks to seulgi, who nods her head. "always." his hands spin her around, making her face the two of you. "i think this is his to heal. look how quiet she is in his presence, she's barely moving. her breathing is more steady." "yoongi, he's not a healer." seulgi groans into her hands, her eyes catching a flash of white protruding from you as chan runs his hand down your back. she watches as he helps you peel your jacket off, your baby pink shirt transparent from the sheen of your sweat soaking through.
"maybe not for us, but for her." yoongi mumbles, seeing chan swipe your hair away from your neck, his lips pursed as he blows cool air against your skin. your groan is one of relief as he rocks you, and seulgi glances at her husband, swallowing thickly. "they're so rare, yoongi. there hasn't been one in this dimension in three hundred and twenty five years."
"i think we may have another on our hands." yoongi smiles widely as you slowly prop yourself up on your elbow, chan's worried eyes scanning your face for distress. you make a noise of disgust, your glow returning green steadily as chan helps you sit up. "what happened? ugh, i'm all sweaty."
glancing at your hands, you see them glowing indigo as it spreads up your body. you turn, seeing the master sorcerers staring at you from the doorway. grimacing, you glimpse at chan, who is looking at you intently. "hey, you alright?" his hand is holding your hip, and your frown falters as you look into his eyes. they're glowing bright as he looks you over. "what happened to your eyes?" your voice is raspy, and he looks away, shrugging.
"i'm not sure. they started changing last night." he swallows, and you shudder as indigo engulfs you entirely. "they look…pretty."
he snorts, shaking his head. "you might want to button up your shirt." feeling your cheeks burn, your fingers fumble with the buttons when you feel seulgi's cool hand on your wrist. "wait."
letting her lay you back, you miss chan's warmth as he slips off the bed, lingering from a few feet away as she opens your shirt. her eyes widen as she quickly beckons her husband over. his eyes snake down your torso, and his eyes glint with green as he meets seulgi's. they're silent, their faces moving as they communicate.
"y/n?" dr. kang's voice is low as she runs her hand through your mussed curls, and you meet her line of vision. her eyes are soft, staring at your torso. "y/n, do you know the history of psychosomatic healers?"
raising a brow, you nod your head. "yeah, they're the rarest of the healing trifecta. there hasn't been one in this dimension since 1699, and even then there's only seven recorded cases because they're so difficult to pinpoint at commencement." dr. min steps forward, noticing chan's eyes glued to the floor as dr. kang examines you further.. "y/n, i'd like to try something, if you don't mind." nodding, you allow dr. kang to take your arm in her hand, pulling your sleeve off your shoulder. 
with a quick swipe of her nails, you're bleeding. you gape at her, a scoff flying from your lips when chan looks up, the sound tearing him from his thoughts. "are you serious, seulgi?" you push her away, flickering orange and dr. min beckons chan forward. "touch her, chan."
taking a deep breath, chan gets closer to you, his nose scrunching at the blood seeping into your shirt. he takes your hand in his, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin. you look away from your shoulder, zeroing in on the subtle touch of affection when a white glow catches everyone's eyes. tugging at your shirt sleeve, seulgi reveals a clean shoulder, no injury visible.
"a psychosomatic healer can only heal those they love." she states, her eyes boring into chan's as he tries to tug his hand away, but you only use it as leverage to sit up. "what the fuck are you guys on about?" "there's no way you're that dumb, y/n." seulgi snorts, her manicured fingernail pointing at your chest. "i don't know how he did it, and i don't think we'll ever know. the curse the coven set upon you has been lifted by him." you look down — the raised welt where your scar once was has dissipated. widening your eyes, you peel the shoulder of your shirt down, the formerly scarred skin now smooth. your fingers tremble as you run them over your soft flesh, feeling the sting of tears forming. you can feel the burn of a sob in your throat as chan releases your hand, stepping back as you process.
the burning of his gaze, of his skin on yours, of your chest in his presence. the ache you felt in your soul yesterday as his lips brushed your neck with every roll of his hips, the way his answers confused you. the anger you felt while walking to class, at not being able to decipher him.
the way his angel eyes held the sun, the moon, and the stars. the way worry creases his brow though relief has washed over his frame, the way you're itching to hold him close, and never, ever let go.
it all makes sense.
"we'll give you both a moment." the master sorcerers bow their heads as they back out of the room, dr. min closing the door behind him. you sit in silence, feeling sticky and gross and overwhelmed.
"you're in love with me?!" you shriek, and chan throws up his hands in defense. "i thought we already knew this, why are we screaming?!" you swat his arm, and a nervous laugh bubbles up his throat. flopping back down onto the gurney, you dramatically cover your eyes with your arm, sighing. "now i have to cherish this, and we're probably going to get married and have kids and all that shit. are you serious? are you serious." "y/n…" you stand up, pacing back and forth in front of him, your hands weaving through your hair to soothe the onsetting migraine at the information. "how are you not freaking out, chan? you just found out you're one of the rarest healers in the trifecta, and not to mention the first in over three centuries! are you shitting me right now?" "y/n?"
you're not listening as you continue to ramble, pacing a hole into the floor when he grabs your shoulder, pulling you to him. taking both your hands in his, he looks you in the eyes. "you're spiraling." 
huffing, you nibble on your lower lip. "what happens now, chan?"
his smile is warm, it's comforting, it's making your stomach flip as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "i don't know. isn't that the beauty of it all, though? not knowing where you end up?"
pouting, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing his warmth to seep into your skin. "i've never felt this, chan. i don't know what it's like to be lost, i've always had my answers." you can feel the vibrations of his chest as he laughs, his hand coming to stroke your hair gently.
"that's okay, it'll be like the blind leading the blind. for now, we can just focus on…us? maybe go on a date, have dinner…" his voice is soft as you look up to him, his eyes already scanning your face for any hint of rejection. "unless you don't want to." you do, of course you do.
"i'm all sweaty, and gross. we've had a revelation about your purpose in this world, your eyes are a different color, and you want to focus on us?" your voice is laced with incredulity, a hint of amusement peeking through as it tugs at your lips. "i have my whole life to focus on other things. when you can't find a piece of a puzzle, you pick another part to focus on, do you not? i have that answer, that piece now, but i'm already figuring this part out." squeezing your shoulder, he places a chaste kiss on your hairline, your nose scrunching.
"why did you come with me?" you poke his chest, and he smirks. "yesterday or today?"
gaping, you land a soft smack to his chest, his squeaky laughter filling your ears as your cheeks heat. "chan! not funny!" "sorry, i'm sorry! i saw an opportunity, i took it. but, i was worried about you." he starts, taking a piece of your hair between his fingers. "i saw how angry you looked before minnie spoke to you, and before you looked at me. you started looking faint when we met eyes, and i was…i was scared that something might happen to you and that i wouldn't be able to apologize for potentially overstepping boundaries, or ruining whatever little game we have going on."
"you couldn't ruin whatever this is even if you tried." you scoff, your words tumbling out before you can process them. "i've never felt anything this intense before in my entire life. my ears started ringing when i touched your chest on tuesday, here." you splay your fingers on his hoodie, in the same place.
"i couldn't hear a thing. that was me, the blockage, i was basically hearing myself. if we didn't have that moment, if you hadn't let me in, none of this would have happened." you speak softly, taking his hands in yours, his eyes glassy as he looks into yours. your smile is gentle, and he can feel his stomach flutter as you lean closer. "and i'm so glad it did. despite this whole day being so weird, despite the coven probably burning holes into the back of my head right now from hell right now, and despite the tears i can see about to spill out of your eyes, nothing could ruin this. okay?" he looks away, nibbling on his lip. your thumb strokes his cheek, catching a few stray tears as you make him face you. vision blurring, but you can see him clearer than ever.
"okay?" you insist, and he nods. "okay."
"good." pulling him towards you, you crash your lips to his, feeling your heart beating in your ears. your arms cross over his shoulders, his hands finding home on your bare waist, the kiss becoming heated. parting his lips, your tongue snakes its way in, a soft groan from chan as he pushes you back, your knees hitting the gurney. 
"not in here, guys." dr. kang's voice echoes in the room, and you spring apart like teenagers. wiping at your lips, you watch as chan grabs your discarded jacket, and his bag. outstretching his hand to you, you take it, letting him rush the both of you towards the door. quickly bowing to the master sorcerers, you giggle as the cool december air hits your chest.
"yeah, y/n! nice titties, girl!" you hear a holler from down the hall, your eyes catching a glimpse of minnie's teal hair. you smile widely, waving as chan continues, a blush coating his cheeks as you begin to float behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck.
"where are we going?" you mumble in his ear, and he shivers. "to yours. i need to show you how much you mean to me." you let the butterflies bounce around in your stomach, knowing exactly what was coming your way.
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friday – january 08.
your relationship with chan had become the talk of the wizard world. several words were thrown your way, many to your detriment – but you chose to focus on 'love epiphany' and 'anomalies made to traverse together.'
he naturally passed your class with flying colors, what more could you do when he literally discovered himself? the students deemed it completely fair, with only yugyeom choosing to retake your course because he felt like he didn't really do what was necessary. mornings were filled with the buzzing of your phone – the students had made a group chat and continuously badgered you with memes, and mingyu with his graduation photos.
whereas, chan's mornings were filled with you, his phone long put on silent. your soft hair tickling his neck, only for your gentle lips to place chaste kisses along his jaw as he awoke. your warm leg draped over his waist, your knee teasing his crotch so early was something he'd never get used to. your arm, propping you up once he lazily peels an eye open, closing it the moment he sees your beaming smile, a blush coating his cheeks.
"do you always stare at me when i sleep?" he mumbles, his fingers dipping under the hem of your sleep shorts. "do birds fly?" "you're a creep, you know that?" laughing, he lets you hold his eyes open with your fingers, the indigo glow of them making you glow brighter in turn. that was what it meant, after all – the subzero color now warm, as you illuminated the room with your love for chan. "yeah? well you're creeping your fingers into my panties, so maybe shut up."
your lips are addicting, he could never get enough of them as you brush them against him. both sets, of course.
kidding. sort of. not at all. he loves you, okay? that's all that matters.
"you should check your email, channie." you murmur against his neck, and he nods his head, watching as you try not to smile. "oh i should, should i?" ignoring the raise of his eyebrow, you reach for chan's phone, plopping it on his bare chest. chan lolls his head back, hands relocating to your hips as he pulls you on top of him. your cheeks heat at the soft love bites on his pec, but shake it away as his voice snakes into your head
"you seem a little too excited, baby." he ruffles your hair as he unlocks his phone, and you just bite your lip as he scans the screen. "tell me, sorcerer, what's the news?" your voice bounces off the walls, with chan just squeezing your hip in response.
dearest bang chan,
it is our honor here at the spellbound institute of magic to let you know that you have been chosen to be published in this year's edition of the spellbound sorcerer. such an honor is only awarded to those with extraordinary skill. 
we've also made the unanimous decision for you to speak at this year's annual convention, taking over the healing trifecta's booth. more information will be provided as the date approaches.
we look forward to seeing you and professor y/l/n there.
signed,
dr. kang seulgi
dr. min yoongi
master sorcerers
spellbound institute of magic
his eyes flicker to yours, your grin so wide, it's infectious. "i'm getting published." "you're getting published!" you cheer loudly, and chan feels his cheeks heat as you pepper his face in kisses. "you're getting published, baby! we have to celebrate! let's ask your parents to dinner, yeah? we can get a cabin for the weekend, so they don't have to drive home so late."
he forgets how you pried the truth about his parents out of him, but he's almost sure it was last tuesday when you made him beg for you to sit on his face. almost sure, but he doesn't really care anymore. after all, he'd warmed up to you.
"i'm so proud of you, channie." your voice is gentle as you swipe your thumbs under his eyes, and he nods, burying his face in your chest as embarrassment spreads in his. "hey, you can't hide from me. what happened to the praise kink? don't you want to know how good you're doing?" "i told you that in confidence!" he swats at your leg as he nestles into your laughter. "i know! it's just me and you here, what's the problem?! let me praise you!"
"never. come on, let's read my stupid essay." he throws the comforter off his legs, and you huff as you climb off his lap. sitting up on the edge of the bed, you lean against his back, your arms hooked around his broad shoulders. the same ones full of your nail marks, a few imprints of your teeth scattered around them. "i graded it, i already read it." "well, praise me while i read it." he snorts, and you press a soft kiss to his shoulder. "mm, okay. i'll take what i can get."
bang chan
professor y/l/n
identity theory
if you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it. – tony stark, spider-man: homecoming (2017)
the fall was slow, like liebesträume.
feeling lost is an understatement.
i've been lost before – in grocery stores, misunderstanding assignments. i've even been lost in the woods before, riddled with anxiety standing within the trees. so uniform, full of belonging. those trees know where their purpose lies.
me? i've been wandering this world not knowing where my purpose lies, what i'm meant to be doing with said unrealized purpose. this is a feeling of disorientation, isolation, off course. it's all the same anyway, isn't it?
i spent years looking for answers – from the day i was dropped off at the academy to the day i met professor y/l/n. life was well sullied with fear, a feeling of desperation as i felt my time running low. i willingly put myself in danger, hopping from dimension to dimension with the aid of some friends to find something to ease my worries, and came up empty. answers will find you, not you them.
another thing i failed to consider was that i perhaps had my answer all along. from the natural instinct to protect and take care of the people i hold close, to the agony of being away from my family – all i needed was a catalyst. something to throw me even more off course, even more confusing than what life had come to be before her.
professor y/l/n has brought me to life. truly, i could never say enough to express the appreciation i have for her, but i will attempt it any chance i get. an enigma, an anomaly, a paradigm – she is far, far more than these words could begin to define. she's selfless, she's full of light and i could never understand that. my admiration for her goes well beyond this lifetime, and like the praying mantis, she was a beacon of guidance.
her story is full of twists and turns as she allowed me to indulge. from the flickering of the glow around her, to understanding that only the deepest of her indigo hue glows for me, i'm honored to say the least. i will never get enough of her story, of her truths, of her. the idea that love lies in the hands of the beholder is entirely true in this case. to be loved is to be known, and she read me far beyond my wildest dreams the moment her golden cast laid upon me. 
eckhart tolle says that, to love is to recognize yourself in another. i have never experienced something as deep as this, nor have i ever seen myself in y/n – and i'm glad i don't. my insecurities, my flaws, what i dislike about myself, are my own. however, i know she sees something i don't, and i trust that. i trust her, with my entire being. without her, i'd have no clue of my purpose. to younger me, who is still wondering the answer to that, i propose this.
your purpose is to love. love beyond your ways, love selflessly. love selfishly, like it's all you can do. like it's all you're capable of, because the moment you lay eyes on y/n? you will see, it is. loving her is all you can do. life without love is meaningless, life without her is hopeless.
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temptaetions © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.
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taglist: @cookiesandcreammy | @alician87
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
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Sukuna comforting you after a breakup
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Pairing: Sukuna x reader
Word Count: 627
Notes: I don't know who needs to read this but somehow I needed to write it inspired by that edit I saw on Instagram a few days ago
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Imagine Sukuna laying his eyes on your puny figure sitting on the completely destroyed sidewalk while you cry your heart out in the middle of Shibuya.
“Why the hell are you sitting there crying like a baby?”
“Leave me alone”, you mutter into your hands.
He furrows his eyebrows, body drawing closer to you. Did those words really leave your mouth? Nobody ever dares to talk to him like that. Especially not when you're all alone out here with Gojo being sealed.
“Don’t you know who I am, stupid girl?”
“I don’t give a damn about who you are. Just leave”, you bark at him.
Why? Why on earth did it end like this? You really thought you could make it, that your relationship can be saved if you put the work in it, that you’ll be able to change yourself. But then this call came in, only minutes before you arrived in Shibuya.
“It’s over, (y/n).”
It’s over. How is it supposed to be over when it didn’t even start yet? How is it supposed to be over when your heart still aches for the tender touch of your love, for the smile that haunts you in your dreams, for this one person alone? A new wave of tears swells up your puffy eyes and takes your sight, body still numb in agony. This can’t be true. It shouldn’t have ended like this.
Your heart sinks through your shaky fingertips onto the floor, bleeds out when reality hits you like a wall.
But it definitely is over.
“You’re lucky I’m having a good day.”
His voice is suddenly next to you, forces your eyes to dart up. This is Yuji. No…Just one look into his blank eyes is enough for you to realize that Sukuna himself is sitting next to you, nipping on a coke as if he isn’t the king of curses.
You should be scared. Fuck, you should scream in horror and try to run away. But instead, you just stare at him blankly. Does it even matter what happens to you anymore?
“What is it?”
“What is what?”, you try to avoid his question.
Oh god, as if it isn’t bad enough that you’re sitting here like an idiot while crying your heart out.
“What is all of this about?”
You swallow hard. There is no way out of this, no chance to escape the piercing gaze of his. You will have to tell him the truth.
“I’ve got dumped today”, you mutter.
“Dumped”, he repeats dryly.
“Dumped.”
“And that’s what you’re crying about? Some random guy?”
“It wasn’t just a random guy”, you bite back in a desperate attempt to defend yourself.
No, more like the one you imagined your future with, the one you wanted to adopt a dog or cat with, the one who was supposed to stay. But now all of this is gone in the wind. Your past, your present, your future. Everything went black.
“You know what makes me so damn strong?”
What? You blink away your tears, confusion written on your face. What on earth is he talking about?
“Because you killed countless people, are older than dinosaurs…-“
“Because I never let a love story distract me from my own strength.”
“What are you talking about?”, you huff in response, shaking your head in sheer disbelief.
What is that supposed to mean? You’re not Ryomen Sukuna, you aren’t a special grade sorcerer, you are…A no one, not even able to keep your relationship up. Fuck, you should have worked on yourself like you've promised over and over, shouldn't have started fights over things that wouldn't have changed anyway. You...You are the problem.
“Shouldn’t you be strong on your own as well?”
You have to blink a few times, mind trying to process the meaning of his words. Sukuna throws away the empty cup of coke and gets up, casually straightening his clothes before yanking your chin upwards, forcing you to stare straight into his red eyes.
“You don’t need anyone. Now get your puny self up and stop giving other people that power over you. If I see you crying over that relationship again, I’ll kill you right on the spot. Got it?”
Your heart flutters uncontrollably in your chest, hands shaking by the sheer force of his words. Why does he have to be so damn right? Why…why do you suddenly feel better?
“Got it”, you breathe out, clenching your trembling fingers into a tight fist.
Yeah, you got it.
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bubble-dream-inc · 1 year
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one kiss (is all it takes)
At first, you regretted agreeing to going to the game with the boys. Turns out a hockey game can be a lot more interesting than you thought.
Or; You and Price get caught on a Kiss Cam.
Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader
rbs greatly appreciated!
WC: 1.5K
a/n: i have no idea how a hockey game - or the military - works. anyways. this was written in an hour, is barely edited and not beta read lmao
tags: just pure fluff and Soap being a smug lil bastard :))
Sighing, you looked at yourself in the mirror one more time, accepting that yes, you did look as tired as you felt, but at that point you had no choice but to make your peace with it and try your hardest to rock those dark eye circles. At least you supposed your outfit looked presentable enough, since even if you were incredibly tired, you still felt like putting some effort into your appearance, telling yourself it was for no particular reason - or person - at all.
It had happened a couple of hours before. Sitting inside the bar across the street from the dingy hotel you and your teammates were staying after a successful recon mission, Soap and Gaz had disappeared for some time, returning later with a couple of tickets to a local hockey game. You found it best not to question how they got those, and, to be honest, you never pegged either of them to be into hockey, much like yourself, but Soap seemed so excited that you didn’t have the heart to tell him you were not looking forward to it one bit. Admittedly, you suspected the same thing happened with Price, who accepted the invitation somewhat hesitantly - you knew north american sports weren’t really his thing - and you admired Ghost for just saying ‘no’ to Soap’s face before returning to his cup of bourbon without another word. So that led you to where you stood at the moment, regretting falling into Soap’s trap and longing for your hotel bed that looked oh so comfortable. A knock on your door took you out of your reverie. Opening it, you found the devil himself standing outside with a smirk on his face.
“Hey, L.t. Ready to go?”  You rolled your eyes playfully at Soap’s nickname for your rank, humming in response while you fetched whatever you needed to go out from your room - making sure to grab a coat. 
Gaz and Price were already at the end of the corridor, waiting for the elevator, and, after greeting them both with a wave of your hand and a smile, you had to pretend to be very interested in the instructions written on the fire extinguisher by the wall to avoid gawking at your superior. It wasn’t often you got to see Price out of tactical gear and without his beloved boonie hat, and the sight of him in a basic and slightly too tight t-shirt under his jacket was doing things to you. Being pushed close to him in the impossibly small elevator once it arrived, too cramped for four soldiers to fit comfortably into, did not help you in the slightest. 
A short car ride later - and somewhat silent, since Soap had lost his aux cord privileges after the last time - you stood in front of the arena, swerving your way between the other attendees, except clearly less excited to be there. As the four of you looked for your seats, you wondered how long it would take for them to notice if you bolted to go back to the hotel and sleep, but decided against it. Soap and Gaz took the first two seats side by side, leaving you to sit at the other end, with Price on your left, and you found it both a blessing and a curse. As he removed his coat, clearly feeling too warm with the amount of people around, and left his bulky (and hairy) arms visible to the world, you decided it was more of a blessing. Not feeling like committing an HR violation, you scolded yourself to stop ogling at your unaware superior, too lost in your musings to realize he was side eyeing you with a knowing smirk. 
The first period flew by. You had no idea what were the teams names, you just know they were currently sitting at 1x0 when the first intermission rolled around, and, surprisingly, you were having a lot of fun. The crowd’s high energy and Soap’s enthusiastic cheering - even though he had said in the car he had no idea who was playing - was enough to make you momentarily forget how tired you were from the mission, and the fact it happened altogether. It was very rarely you got to enjoy some down time with your teammates, and that alone made you feel glad you accepted Johnny’s invitation.
Checking the time on your phone, you started scrolling through the various notifications, getting so immersed in the screen that you didn’t notice the way people around you were suddenly staring in your direction. Feeling observed, you looked up to the sight of people hollering and cheering around you, and, for some reason, Soap was angling his body out of his seat to look smugly at you, to which you only replied with a quizzical arch of your brow, receiving a nod upwards in response. Looking at the direction he nodded, you realized the huge screen in the middle of the stadium now displayed a banner written “Kiss cam.” 
Directly under a live feed of you and Price. 
That definitely could not be happening. 
Your blood froze, and you felt like you were both on fire and ice cold at the same time, trying to process what was going on in seconds. Instantly your brain conjured images of you watching with a side eye as Price rejected you publicly to the camera, probably sneering and making a “cut it out” motion with his hand, as if kissing you was something incredibly unimaginable. However, none of those visions came true, since, when you gathered the courage to actually look over to him - with what you imagined was a very wide eyed and flustered expression - he was actually calmly chuckling and smiling with that damn good looking smile of his. Looking this closely you could swear you saw a faint hint of red on his face as he turned to you with a very gentle gaze, clearly considering the idea and giving you a silent chance to back away if you didn’t feel comfortable with it. Of course, you knew that you would never even dream of shying away from an opportunity to kiss your very attractive Captain who you absolutely did not have a huge crush on, but he didn’t need to know that just yet. 
So, seeing no resistance from you, he leaned in closer and brought one of his huge hands to rest delicately holding your face, as if you were made of glass, and you felt like your heart stopped beating. Up close like this he smelled faintly of the cigar he liked to smoke and cologne he must have put on when you returned from the bar to get ready to leave for the game, and his blue eyes never looked so intense. You saw him smirk when you leaned in to meet him halfway before letting your eyes flutter close and your lips finally meet.
Kissing Captain Price was even better than you imagined. His mustache tickled your top lip and, in the background, you could hear the cheering of the crowd - particularly Soap’s hollers and someone, who you imagined was Gaz, wolf whistling - but you drowned it all to focus on the feeling of John’s lips moving against yours in a kiss that lasted a second, but felt like an hour inside your head. As you expected it, he did taste exactly like the cigar he smelled as, and a hint of mouthwash, and you found yourself embarrassingly sighing into the kiss. 
You decided you could spend a good few hours just kissing your Captain, but any second longer would be positively awkward for your audience, so, regrettably, you broke the kiss, almost going insane by the way he chuckled lowly against you before leaning back as well, giving the camera an uncharacteristic almost bashful smile. So much for not committing that HR violation. You didn’t find the courage to look anywhere, much less the damn camera, so you pathetically stared at your shoes instead, very aware of the way your face felt like a thousand degrees and you must have looked like a deer caught in the headlights. Distantly, you felt Soap’s eyes on you, burning holes in your face with what you imagined must have been the smuggest smile ever, but you didn’t turn to confirm your suspicions. 
Within seconds, the kiss cam had moved on, as well as the entire crowd, and you were the only one still dwelling on it as everyone cheered on another couple put on display. Trying to convince yourself it meant nothing, you shook your head and tried to pay attention to what was going on in the arena, something cut short when John Price himself discreetly leaned over for your ear, not turning his body or taking his eyes off the screen above you.
“You know,” He started above a whisper with his deep, gruffy voice. “If I knew you were such a good kisser, I’d have done this a lot sooner.”
With that, he leaned back into his seat, hand crossed above his stomach and a satisfied smirk on his face as he pretended not to notice the way you stared at him with wide eyes and your mouth gaping open like a fish.
That was going to be one long hockey game.
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allieebobo · 7 months
Note
Do you have any if recommendation?
Ooh! I have really, really bad memory(!!) but these are current faves that I have played/replayed recently that I can think of. A lot of the authors are also THE BEST HUMAN BEINGS EVER. So, double recommendation.
I probably missed a bunch out, so take this as a non-exhaustive list! In no particular order:
(Edit: Added some descriptions but yeah I got a little unhinged so I'm sorry nothing makes sense or if the quality of the write-up went down over time/did not actually give you any useful info)
WIPs with demos
Citadel, @bouncyballcitadel (I think of all the IFs on this list, this one makes me sweat the most. And I've said it once and I'll say it again: the dialogue is so snappy and well-written, and characters are SO DAMNED LOVEABLE.)
Infamous, @infamous-if (I've been manifesting Band/Musician IFs for the longest time, and then this popped up! I've even played Choice of a Rockstar, that's how desperate I was... Anyway, this is legions better than that. Angsty ex routes are my kryptonite, and Seven is just. Inevitable.)
Defiled Hearts: The Barbarian, @defiledheartsblog (I went into this wanting something juicy and fun/historical—and it's all of those things, but I didn't expect it to be so damned funny, too. The ROs are all impeccable.)
Raiders of the Caravan and Apartment 3-3, @leftski-if (A'ight listen, fantasy slice-of-life is my fave genre, and these are IT. Like, everything I never knew I needed in my life, and SO cozy/wholesome, with a cast of characters that I want to befriend in real life.)
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes: An Affair of the Heart @doriana-gray-games (First off, the customization in this game is INSANE, and the branching too. I've replayed a couple of times and the little variations I discover each time just blows my mind. Secondly, it's so funny and written so well. Ngl I'm not a Sherlock fan but that's just testament to how amazing this IF is.)
When Life Gives You Lemons, @when-life-gives-you-lemonssss (Modern slice-of-life with an adorable kid, a bunch of hot ROs, CC. Hill's humor, what can I say?)
Golden @milaswriting (Really interesting world-building, one of the coolest fictional cities I've read in an IF, AND I'm obsessed with the ROs, in particular K de la Renta. Also Mila is such an awesome writer, I'm beyond excited for @beyondthegame.)
A Tale of Crowns @ataleofcrowns (This game is beautiful, polished, and SO exciting. Honestly, it looks like the kind of game created by a whole-ass game studio and would cost $50 to buy, it's that good. I really got swept up by this IF—probably played it all in one go.)
Rougi @rougi-if (Again, another game with scrumptious visuals/UI and also is just so well-crafted. I love the premise too, it's so original and fresh.)
Scout: An Apocalypse Story @anya-dev (Unfortunately this one might be on hiatus but I am/was really, really obsessed.)
Wayfarer @idrellegames (Love the game mechanics of this one, and the visuals. Probably controversial, but I like the D&D / random dice effect. And I also like the fact that it feels like an old-school RPG.)
Chop shop @losergames (The premise is all I needed to be sold, really—I'd always wanted to buy GTA as a kid but my parents were like NO WAY. Anyway, this IF did not disappoint, and let me live all my childhood dreams.)
Edit: AHH! How could I forget, one of my recent faves, Folksaga @folksaga-if (Lush atmospheric writing, super unique premise—norse mythology, plus I'm head over heels for Katla).
Completed IFs
Butterfly Soup 1 and 2 @brianna-lei (these are completed and I will never not promote them. Honestly the most adorable, wholesome, funny sports/coming-of-age IF I've read)
Elsinore: After Hamlet @lapinlunairegames (Insanely cool premise, insanely cool execution)
The Thick Table Tavern @manonamora-if (I love bar/tavern games, and this one actually lets you mix drinks! Instant fave.)
Other HGs/COGs I love: Slammed, Tin Star, Fallen Hero, If it pleases the court, A Player's Heart (these last two are so underrated, though I guess cause it's mainly wlw)
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querenciasturniolo · 9 months
Note
OKAY NO, “favorite” was insanely good. If you wouldn’t mind, could you please write a part 2 for this fic? Maybe their flirting before something finally happens or maybe another car video with them already dating but no fan knows?
oops ⮕ c.s.
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word count: 1.4k
warnings: swearing
summary: chris slips up, and the secret’s out
a/n: i’m so glad you liked favorite !! i changed the idea just a little bit 🤏🏻 but i hope you like it !!! 🤞🏻
{i’m not the biggest fan of this, but that’s okay. i might rewrite this at some point, but who knows 🤷🏻‍♀️}
everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.
part one || part two
Before you realized what was happening, Chris Sturniolo had made his way into your heart and stayed there.
The few months after the Q&A video was posted, the two of you continued keeping in touch. You talked to Nick and Matt of course, but Chris was incredibly persistent on answering quickly and asking you questions about yourself. It was only a matter of time before the two of you finally got together.
It had been almost a year since that video, and eight of those eleven months you’d been with Chris. The two of you decided early on to keep your relationship a secret from the fans, but with each video you did with them, more edits of Chris looking at you the way he did nearly blew the secret.
You thought it was funny, how he couldn’t control the way his eyes scanned over you like you were the only thing on his mind. It wasn’t just Chris, though. Nick keeping the bit of you and Chris admitting to be each other’s celebrity crush and favorite triplet in the video didn’t help things, either.
Your new single had only been out for a few weeks, and every single interview consisted of the same question.
“Fans have been speculating that your new single, Rare, is actually a love song about Youtube star, Chris Sturniolo. Is this true?”
You’d laugh and shake your head, your chest aching and your heart pounding as you said the same thing over and over again.
“I think the interpretation of music is up to the listener. If the listener wants to believe this song is about Chris, that’s okay. If they want to believe it’s just a love song I wrote for fun, that’s fine too. I personally was inspired to write about the feeling you get around someone who’s important to you.”
The interviewer would then fake laugh along with you, and thankfully change the subject. You hated lying to your fans, and just lying in general, but it was nice to have something private. You wouldn’t mind going public, persé, but you’d need to talk about it first to make sure he was on the same page.
Chris had spent the majority of his time at your apartment when you were in LA, and any time he wasn’t there, you were at their house. One of those times was right now, Nick and Matt sitting next to you on the couch and watching a show you had absolutely no interest in. Chris had his head in your lap with his eyes facing the screen, your fingers carding through his hair absentmindedly as you pretended to pay attention.
Suddenly, Chris sat up and turned to face you, his hair sticking up in different directions and his eyes wide.
“We should go live.” He suggested, Matt and Nick glancing over from where they were sitting with furrowed eyebrows.
“Why?” Matt asked, reaching for the remote and pausing the show.
Chris shrugged his shoulders and pulled his phone out, glancing at you unamused and running a hand through his hair to fix it. “Why not? We aren’t doing anything anyway.” He said, tapping the Instagram icon and sliding over to go live. He propped his phone up on the Pepsi can on the coffee table and rested his head on his hand. Comments started pouring in almost immediately, many of them about the fact that you were on the couch next to him.
After a few moments of silence, Chris glanced over at the three of you with his eyebrows raised. “Are you guys just going to sit there like bumps on a log, or are you going to join me?” He said, your eyes rolling as you scooted more into frame, Nick and Matt grumbling as they stood up and followed suit. Nick sat on your other side while Matt sat on the other side of Chris, all four of you now looking at the comments flooding in.
Y/N WHO IS RARE ABOUT?????
You chuckled and shook your head. “Rare is a song I wrote about how it feels to be around someone who makes you love yourself.” You said, your answer vague as you noticed the way Chris’ fond eyes flickered to you on the screen for a split second before going back to scanning the comments.
well that’s one way to answer a question i guess
it’s about chris confirmed
idk, the verse about someone with bright eyes like stars seems to scream chris
Nick scoffed and looked at you. “How many times have you been asked that?” He asked. You shrugged your shoulders.
“About ten thousand, but I don’t mind. It’s sweet that people want to know. It’s a happy song, they just want to know why.” You said, Nick pursing his lips and humming noncommittally before looking back to the phone.
The live went on for what seemed like ages, the four of you replying to as many comments as possible, the rapid rate of which they were coming in made it near impossible to read. After a while, Matt pulled out his phone and started scrolling through Tiktok, his volume low and his eyes flickering between his phone and the live.
“We filmed our Wednesday vlog today, it’s one of my favorites so far.” Chris said. “No hints as to what it is, but I hope you guys like it.”
Matt snorted at whatever was playing on his phone, nudging Chris’ shoulder for him to look. He did, his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue between his teeth as he watched. You and Nick continued reading the comments, laughing and responding to a few before Chris guffawed and covered his mouth with his hand at whatever Matt was showing him.
He grabbed Matt’s phone out of his hand and held it in front of your face. “Babe, look at this!” He said, all four of you freezing in place as you registered Chris’ words. Before any of you could react, comments started flying in immediately, whether they were keyboard smashes or just consistently repeated ‘I KNEW IT’s.
“End the live.” Nick mumbled, all four of you reaching for the phone at the same time and knocking it off of the table.
“Shit!” Chris shouted, scrambling for his phone and desperately jamming his thumb onto the screen to end it. It was no use—his live had crashed, and his screen was frozen on the image of all four of you staring wide-eyed at the camera seconds after Chris’ slip up, comments still pouring in at an impressive rate, each comment blurred. In a last ditch effort to fix it, he turned off his phone and dropped it into his lap.
The four of you sat there in silence, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. You finally turned your head and met Chris’ eyes, his face frozen in a wince.
“Oops?”
The silence only lasted a few more seconds before you completely lost it, hysterical, raucous laughter bubbling out of you as you clutched your stomach. The three of them joined in soon after, the four of you near tears as the reality of what just happened set in.
“How did that even happen?! We were doing so well!” You said through your laugh, Chris shaking his head and wiping at his eyes.
“I don’t even know, it just came out.” He said, the four of you finally calming down enough to catch your breath. “I mean, at least we don’t have to hide it anymore.”
You pulled out your phone and opened Instagram.
“Well, there’s only one thing left to do.” You said, Chris leaning into your shoulder as he watched you create a post. “Help me pick one.” You said, scrolling through your photos before he tapped one. You had taken it ages ago, but it was still your favorite picture the two of you had taken together.
“What should the caption be?” You asked, Chris raising his eyebrows at you and scoffing.
“What do you think?”
You rolled your eyes and typed the lyrics out, making sure to tag Chris before posting the photo and locking your phone.
“And now we wait for the uproar.” You said, Chris chuckling and pressing a kiss to your temple. Nick groaned dramatically, catching both of your attention as he pushed himself off of the couch and headed towards the kitchen.
“Oh God, if you guys are going to be all mushy now, could you at least give a warning?” He said, though you could tell he was only teasing. Your phone screen kept lighting up, notifications pouring in from Instagram.
“Well, it’s out there now, I guess. You’re stuck with me.” You said, Chris rolling his eyes as he wrapped an arm around your waist and lightly leaned his weight onto you.
“Yeah, I guess I am.”
don’t keep your distance, i’m not scared
i’m not gonna fight this, baby you’re rare
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kittenface40 · 4 months
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I.M.P is irrelevant to Helluva Boss
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When Helluva Boss Pilot came out,I was really excited, to know more about these characters, their personalities, their relationships to each other and how they would develop. Additionally, I was also wondering on why each of these characters joined I.M.P and why did Blitz start his own business.
However, as the series went on, the show went on to become the Stolitz show along with dedicating episodes to fan-favourite characters that have nothing to do with I.M.P (Ozzie, Fizz and Stolas).
This is one of the (many) reasons why I'm disappointed with the current state of Helluva Boss, I.M.P's irrelevance to the main story, while I do enjoy the new episodes. There are a lot of story issues that I have with it, the fact that IMP is basically irrelevant to the Helluva Boss.
NO IMPACT ON THE OVER ARCHING STORY:
So far we only had five out of fifteen episodes (excluding the times where it's offscreen), of IMP doing it's job is the main plot of the episode, while five episode may seem fine for some it becomes a problem when their actions are basically inconsequential to the main story.
The only times where they are important is for one-off adventures like in Murder Family, Spring Broken, CHERUBS & Unhappy Campers. The problem is that their existence doesn't impact Stolas' story in anyway (aside from Blitz), like why are we focusing so much screentime on Stolas (a secondary character) who isn't even employed at IMP. And instead focus on Blitz, the titular character, protagonist and him being the boss of IMP. Understanding his goals and reasoning as to why he wanted to start IMP.
HELLUVA BOSS? WHAT BOSS:
Another problem I have with IMP, is the fact that we don't know why Blitz wanted to start a business on killing people, was it because of his tragic past and to distance himself from it, is it that he discovered he's really skilled at killing people and decided to make it big , is it because he wants love and new connections from his employees, is it to prove the higher class or his father that he can make it big and break class traditions. What is it? We only now why he wants love and respect from his employees due to his tragic past. But we don't know why he started his business.
Also we never get to see him develop into a caring boss that genuinely cares about his employees, with the show only showing the ending of the development in the same episode but none of the development.
In addition, we also never get the chance to see him as a leader of IMP, you think Blitz would be the leader and he needs to grow into being one for his employees. But the show never has Blitz develop into becoming a Helluva Boss.
NON EXISTENT SURFACE-LEVEL RELATIONSHIPS:
Another thing I really hate is that the relationships between employees at IMP, are never explored beyond the surface level. The only one I can say this doesn't apply to is Moxxie and Blitz.
We don't get to see the M&Ms relationship grow outside of loving each other, and when they do explore it, it's written poorly (Unhappy Campers).
We don't get to see Millie and Luna, relationship grow, they don't even talk to each other that much in the show. What is Blitz & Millie relationship, why do they get along with each other, why is she fine with Blitz behaviour. Luna and Moxxie relationship, why is Luna so mean to him, how does Moxxie feel about Luna bullying him, has she ever went too far, would Millie get angry at Luna for bullying.
(Side tangent; but why is Millie not standing up for her husband when Blitz and Luna bully Moxxie, they do it right in front of her. Wouldn't she get angry at them, edit: I checked and she did get angry at Luna for calling Moxxie fat, but not at Blitz for joking about this. But she needs to say something, put her foot down, not just make an angry expression)
EMPLOYEES LACK OF REASONING:
We don't know what the employees motivation was to join IMP. Why did Moxxie and Millie join IMP, was it to prove their parents wrong, to make it big, or is it for similar reasonings to Blitzo.
Why did Luna join IMP? Was it out of gratitude for Blitz saving her, was it because she couldn't get a job as a hell hound, was it to be with her father more.
-----
Anyway, that's my thought for a day, on Helluva Boss, let me know what you think about IMP. Do you agree? Disagree? Why? Let me know!
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moonlightpetalz6 · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 10
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Character: Original Sukuna x Witch Reader 
Reader: Fem Reader!
Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, smut, harsh language, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, oral (fem receiving), double dicks, double penetration, blood, violence
Wc: 2,849
A/n: I kind of referenced this fic to one of my earlier works between Sukuna and Witch Reader! (It's sad and angsty but I just love the story I have behind the two so I couldn't help myself! Just look for Sukuna's part if interested! (Not required of course!) This one is not edited or proofread so I do apologize for all the mistakes. I also feel like I got a little lost while writing this one, so I do apologize. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! I tried my best to get all the warnings written above! I apologize if I miss anything!
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Making his way through the dark woods, Sukuna lets out a few breaths, his body taking him down the path he had come to engrave deep inside his mind. "Damn pathetic witch…living so far out." He growls to himself. Your mere existence was annoying, but at the same time, your face always seemed to calm his rageful soul. After what felt like a century of walking, his eyes take in the faint glow of the lantern you always kept hanging from your porch. He grunts, not bothering to knock as he pushes the door open only to be greeted by pure silence. The curse narrows his eyes as he searches the small hut noticing no signs of life. “Oi! Damn witch of the woods!” He shouts allowing a moment for you to respond but there is nothing. He grits his teeth, his mind running through all the possible things that could have happened to you. “The village.” He spits, recalling how you had once mentioned being hated and feared by a village a few miles away. Thinking that one day they would come for you. Sukuna quickly rushes out of the hut, his feet taking him at max speed towards the village, his bloodlust filling the air.
As he dashes through the woods one of his eyes catches a glimpse of a figure standing out in the lake causing him to halt. He approaches the tree line with all four eyes taking in the figure under the moonlight. There you stood, body fully exposed as you bathed under the moon, completely defenseless as you looked up at the sky, eyes shining with the stars. Sukuna watches his mind and nerves going crazy with multiple emotions. Fear, anger, relief, lust each one clashing with the other as he tried to push it all aside. “Do you seeeee her?” An eerie voice whispers from a few trees down getting his attention. There hovered some low-level curses, their eyes peering at your oblivious self their actions irritating Sukuna. “She’s known to be one of the prettiest creatures to grace these woods~” Another curse giggled, leaning closer to get a better look at your exposed breasts.
“Do you think we can touch-” It falls silent as one of the curses falls to the ground, head cut clean off. The other curses jump quickly looking behind them to see the king of curses hold a severed head in his hands, eyes cold as he smirks down at the pathetic creatures before him. “Just by looking at her you die.” Was all he needed to say before blood splattered everywhere covering his body in the filthy red liquid. He growls while examining his body with disgust before his ears ring at the sound of your voice. “Who’s there?” Though you pose it as a question your tone is stern and demanding causing the king of curses to smirk an idea popping into his head. Carefully he emerges from the tree line still drenched in blood as he lets out a deep sigh while one hand scratches the back of his head.
“Calm down damn witch.” His eyes trail back to you watching as your defensive form relaxes at the sight of him, this small action causing the bloodthirsty killer's heart to waver. Though you had relaxed you soon remembered that you were bathing under the moon completely exposed to the man in front of you causing a deep red to dust your cheeks as you tried to duck under. The sight is amusing as Sukuna slowly strips himself of what little clothing he already wore, his body slowly entering the cold water of the night. “I-I’ll be out soon Sukuna-san! You can just go back to the hut!” You protested while swimming further away, your entire body flushed at the quick glimpse you had gotten of his naked form. You hear him scoff as he moves closer to you only stopping a few inches away as he peers down at you with dark eyes.
“You weren’t there…” He mumbles, reaching out to pull you against his chest; you flinch at the sudden contact, your usual calm demeanor gone. He smirks at this, finally being able to see a new side of the most powerful witch of the woods as he rests his chin on your head. “I almost went to kill that village.” He confesses one of his hands carefully sliding down your right arm to extend it out as he examines the black tattoos that covered your skin similar to his own thanks to that soulmate spell you had performed almost three months ago. You frown at his words not wanting him to murder innocent lives because of some witch. “Sukuna-san I only went to bathe under the moonlight! I didn’t even know you would be coming here at this time of the night!” You scold turning your head up to look at the curse who was labeled as your soulmate. He hums, taking a piece of your hair between two of his fingers gently playing with it as he recalls the curses, he had just slaughtered a moment ago.
“Do I need to inform you when I will arrive? Tch, who do you think you’re talking to?” He growls dipping his face into the crook of your neck to leave a possessive bite, his teeth piercing into your skin causing you to whine as you grip onto two of his biceps, your sharp nails dragging against his skin sending tingles through his body. “I told you before…I’m not afraid of curses.” You breathe listening to him lick at the fresh mark a satisfied hum leaving his lips as his eyes look up at your face brows furrowed. “Curses aren’t afraid of you either, you know. In fact, curses are drawn to you.” He growls pulling away his body becoming clearer under the light of the moon as you take in all the red still staining his skin the smell of iron finally processing in your nose.
“Are you hurt Sukuna-san?” You question quickly turning your body to face him, your bare breasts pressed against his chest as you examine him for any injuries getting ready to cast a healing spell if needed. He stops you, arms trapping your body as close as possible to his, a small gasp escaping you as you feel the two hard cocks pressing against your lower body. “I’m fine dammit! I just found a few pathetic curses trying to mess with something that belongs to only me.” He growls at the memory of their ugly faces, his blood boiling as he could only imagine what was running through their minds when they looked at your lustful body glistening so beautifully in the night. “It makes me so pissed…that you can just let others see you so exposed.” He grabs at your chin with one hand forcing you to look up at him, his eyes taking in your flushed appearance.
“I didn’t even know they were around…I guess I was just spacing out too much.” You confessed feeling foolish for having let your thoughts of the man in front of you cloud your senses making the area around you nonexistent in the moment. Sukuna hums watching the night sky reflect in your pure orbs so full of care and love for this world's filthy creatures. “Your skin is so divine in the moonlight.” He confesses cupping your cheek, his mind filling with only you, the one creature he was willing to love for all eternity. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, mouth agape when you see the soft look in his eyes. “Sukuna-san you didn’t drink any of the potions when you were inside, did you? Some of those are for customers who asked for aphrodisiacs!” You worry, not wanting to have the curse mad at you the next day for allowing him to drink something that would show any signs of weakness.
He frowns at your words, going to pinch your sides in annoyance. You let out a small cry from the stinging pain, a pout on your lips. “Tch. You think I would be so stupid to drink one of those disgusting vials?” He growls, finding your questions insulting for the king of curses. You try to shrink away into the water, finding his mood to be slightly unpleasant. “I was just wondering…big jerk.” Your words were quiet but not enough to go unnoticed by Sukuna who disliked that you were no longer pressed against him, his body not feeling whole. “If you wish for my anger to cease then will you be a good witch and please your king?” The question shocks you as you make eye contact orbs searching for any mischievous intent only to find pure lust greeting you. The two of you had made love only once when you had discovered you were soulmates, both your harbored feelings finally being released into three whole days of passion.
As if reading your mind Sukuna let out a small chuckle, his arms gripping at your waist as he pulled you close once again this time making you wrap your legs around his torso. “It's been so long since I’ve made love to you…tell me does your body still recall my touch?” He whispers lips pressing against your forehead. You hum, unable to think of any words as you feel your heart racing, your eyes trailing all over his chest taking in the man who had won over the most powerful witch. “Look at me Y/n.” He growls forcing your chin up the use of your name causing something inside you to tingle. “I’m going to make every creature in these woods know that you’re mine. So don’t you dare hold back filthy witch.” With those words his lips are roughly pressed to yours in a bruising kiss as he pries your mouth open with ease, his tongue almost plunging deep into your throat as he hungrily takes in your taste.
You whine, arms wrapping around his neck to deep kiss your body wanting more of him as if remembering those three days like it was something you experienced your whole life. A deep growl leaves Sukuna’s throat as one of his hands grips the back of your head taking in a fist full of your hair as you feel him smirk into the kiss. Your eyes shoot open in shock, a small cry being muffled by his lips when you feel a giant tongue lick up your pussy. Sukuna’s fist pulls at your hair separating the kiss, a long string of saliva still connecting the kiss as he lets out an amused laugh “Does it feel good darling? Having two tongues inside you?” He breathes as the mouth on his stomach hungrily lapped at your twitching pussy under the water. You let out a few pathetic moans. The feeling of his other mouth was different compared to his normal one.
Sukuna closely watched the way your face twisted into pleasure as your arms tightened around his neck, your hips starting to move in sync with the licks of his other tongue. He watches cocks twitching as the sight deeply arouses him. “What a filthy witch~” He teases his tongue sliding up your neck as he wraps a hand around your throat. You shiver body trembling from all the pleasure you were feeling. Sukuna presses his forehead to yours, his eyes taking in every detail of your face before pressing a passionate kiss to your lips. You whine, your body stiffening when the tongue from his stomach slithers deep inside your hole, eyes widening as your legs squeeze around him. Sukuna pulls away an evil grin on his face as he looks down at your fucked out expression.
“Filthy whore coming from another mouth!” He laughs a hand caressing your side as he tries to pull you away however your grip doesn’t loosen up as you try to recover from your orgasm pussy twitching. He sighs, pressing a few kisses to your cheek. “Strongest witch in the world but so pathetic from just getting your pussy tongue fucked.” His words earn a small smack from you followed by a tiny ‘shut up’ causing him to laugh. “If you want me to be satisfied you have to move away a bit darling. Otherwise, I can’t put it inside.” He whispers into your ear taking notice of your shivers. ‘The water must be getting cold.’ His thoughts are confirmed when you slowly float away from him, his eyes landing on your perked nipples and trembling lips. His two lower hands reach under the water to pump at his throbbing cocks wanting to feel inside your warm walls.
“Your pussy can handle both, right? Or has it been too long for the Witch of the Woods?” He hums remembering how long it took for your pussy to accept both his cocks the first time. Your body stiffens as you contemplate swimming away from the curse, your eyes trailing over to your clothes that lay by the shoreline. Taking notice of your gaze Sukuna frowns quickly gripping at your wrist to pull you back into his chest. “You dare think of running from me witch?” He growls two of his hands lifting you up, earning a small squeak from you as you try and hold onto his shoulders for support. “S-Sukuna-san I don’t think I can! It was so long ago!” You plead nails digging into his flesh.
“I want any pathetic creature lurking around to see my little witch get fucked by a true king!” He shouts while positioning both tips at your entrance, the feeling of them rubbing together causing a decent amount of precum to mix with the lake's water. With a free hand, he cups your cheek, eyes locking as his lips hover over your bruised and swollen ones. “The only king she will please and love.” He whispers before sloppily kissing you while thrusting deep into your pussy. You scream into the kiss tears falling down your cheeks as you feel your pussy being ruined as his cocks fill you. Sukuna groans into the kiss, his chest tightening as he feels your walls squeeze almost making him cum on the spot. He pulls away multiple curses leaving his lips as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, his body shaking from how good you felt.
“So, fucking tight…such a good witch…my good girl.” He praises kissing anywhere he can while listening to the tiny whimpers you give in response. After a moment he starts to move growling at the feeling of his cocks rubbing together the friction driving him crazy as his movements start to pick up. His hold on your body is tight as he bounces you up and down like a doll, the sound of water splashing filling his ears. However, that was the only sound causing him to look up at you while gritting his teeth. “I fucking knew it.” He scoffs watching your mouth move but no sounds come out. This wasn’t the first time you had cast a spell to conceal your voice from him not wanting to disrupt any of the woodland creatures or anyone in the area.
“Tch, I won't let you stay quiet with your spells this time witch.” He spits venomously his nails digging into your hips as he pounds deep inside you the tips of his cocks entering your womb causing tears to fall from your eyes. Having learned some of your spells Sukuna is quick to rid you of your silence, your screams of pleasure music to his ears as they echo throughout the woods. “That’s right, witch! Scream my name let these woods hear who makes their precious witch so weak and pathetic!” Sukuna laughs maniacally, his thrusts merciless as he feels you cum for a second time. You toss your head back drool falling from your chin, eyes glossed over with lust as you stare up at the moon. “Sukuna! Sukuna! Give me more!” You scream your mind is too fucked out to care anymore. Sukuna laughs followed by a few grunts as he feels himself reaching his own release, the excitement from killing all those curses along with seeing how beautiful you looked under the moonlight bringing him so much pleasure.
“Kiss me Y/n…kiss your king…your soulmate.” He breathes heavily. His only desire is you. You look at him with a fucked-out expression that causes him to go over the edge, his lips smashing to yours as he fills your insides, your pussy clenching as you spray all over them. Sukuna’s arms hold you tight, his eyes trailing to the tree line, smirking against your lips as he watches the smaller curses cower away. Once he made sure the two of you were clean, he was careful while carrying you out of the lake making sure to grab your clothes along with his own. “Sukuna-san…you’re so mean.” You whisper half asleep from the tiring activity. Sukuna just scoffs rolling his eyes at your words.
“Shut up Y/n.”
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girlreblogger · 2 months
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the annoyance with blk y/n and the stories she’s in is hilarious. her characteristics might be the problem one day or her side characters the next. it legit feels like we may never get to a balanced solution on what to do with our own representation since the wrong ppl always talk about it and create it. we have mean and shallow ppl who take over the conversation, ppl who really self hate but try and cover it up with “i just don’t want her to be a stereotype” and then the ones who probably love and support tyler perry movies.
the bottom line is the ppl who do write those niggafying, toxic (it’s a buzzword but that’s what they are) or smutty fics (not talking abt the actual good ones with a blk reader though 🧎🏽‍♀️) can do wtv they want and owe you nothing. that’s why they get so frustrated. i don’t think all the times those should be crucified for what they write when other groups of ppl (or our own) write all kinds of other crazy shit.
and.. i know a lot of ppl who don’t want to say it but y’all keep bringing up the smut and niggafying as the main problem, but i think it’s some of the ppl writing it and their underlings. it’s just no one wants to say anything.
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an excerpt from a draft of mine
“a lot of ppl on here be weirdos or mean asl. so when someone block you don’t be like “oh what i did” “they that mad cause of my (internet—fictional—digital on screen) presence”
like nobody got time to go to your acc and say “i don’t like you” who cares. oddly some miserable ppl do actually but still. the lack of awareness is ridiculous. that’s why ppl don’t f with y’all.”
i was talking abt all of tumblr and every other app but it applies here.
from what i see on here, some are just straight up weird, cliquey, and chiesty (if that’s how you spell it) and that’s why ppl be so mad abt those types of books 💀. we also have to acknowledge the amount of overwhelming & honestly damaging blk yn fics (not to be confused with ppls screwed ideas of stereotypical) there are. i understand why ppl write them for personal reasons but when it comes to our own reflections of ourselves as blk women it’s almost hurtful to read some of the things people put “her” through. i mean even her with a white man that use aave and has cornrows is hurtful.. 😔 (i’m trolling now 💀) naw but fr. i personally don’t like reading blk women just being written for smut or going through crazy situations or kinda like.. i don’t wanna say unfulfilling but like.. idk i can’t think of the word. (edit: ppl write blk yn to be in unfulfilling situations) but girl i can watch a tyler perry movie for all that.
again. ppl write these stories for there own personal reasons, relate to them and enjoy them for those reasons as well. that’s why depending! on what it is i don’t think blk writers should be bombarded with hate like that. also ion think smut should be banned like y’all go to far can we just slow down on it … there are some nice ones out there i promise 🧎🏽‍♀️
but in all seriousness there are many other reasons why i feel toxic and smutty fics are popular for blk yn but i don’t think anyone cares to hear that and the conversion will prolly go back to nigga eren somehow which is crazy cause y’all be arguing over a fictional white man.
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oh! 😒 i almost forgot 😒 the ppl who are against “ghetto” y/n to try and advocate for more fluffy or like.. normal (healing) stories and from what i see the ppl who are the most up in arms about it in my personal opinion seem to dislike certain parts of blkness that i appreciate personally and so i just straight up disregard their opinions. y/n doesn’t have to “act” (😒) blk but i see ppl get mad about her protecting her hair….. with a bonnet….
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sigh, anyway but yeah we need more soft and sweet fics or just like calming ones? but someone gon have to write it! i don’t like this app or my writing all too much so i gave up a while ago.
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just like many other blk writers….
gaspp! we should also do like a fluff challenge or sumn where writers do like fluff … march? girl idk so maybe that will trend and all the ppl who spend time arguing and going back and forth with ppl who write stories they don’t like can like idk look for other writers who write soft, normal, fun stories and reblog them or make a list of them. or maybe like possibly write their own stories too????
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everyone says the smut fics gets the most likes and they do. that’s why you keep seeing them. so maybe support or refreakingblog the fics that are comforting to you so others can be as well.
i actually made this page to repost softer fics because i was tired of blocking certain tags so i can avoid heavy smut and subtly abuse fics. also pls leave the ppl who niggafy anime characters alone they will not be stopped. i mean we still have ppl who have been calling chris evans jamal since 2020.. calling him that to this date. married and all.
sigh… 2 more days until blk history month ends. maybe next year we can find a balance between “dramatic” and smutty fics and soft and slice of life ones for blk y/n next year. remember this is tumblr too and the ppl writing aren’t even getting paid for this but it’s for the ppl yk.
ppl who are respectful and reblog tho.
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muah
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smellrain · 28 days
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𝐧𝐡𝟏𝟑 - 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐜𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭
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in which: nico and you had met years ago in a cold rink in canada but then lost touch for several reasons. It's hard, growing and correcting mistakes of your past but you try anyway.
tags: written, angst, hopeful ending, mentions of: depression, injuries, hospitals, doctors, etc. (masterlist)
notes: [5.1k] I have no idea what this is? I woke up, wrote the entire thing and passed out again for 2 hours. Tried polishing it through editing? Yeah. It turned out a lot different than the rest of my stuff so far, so it's scary posting this. Come & tell me if you liked it.
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The ice was as harsh as it was unforgiving. 
The cold air of the rink has seeped into your bones years ago and the reddend tips of your fingers went numb a while ago, but you were used to it by now. Nothing really mattered when you got like this, too caught up in your head for anyone to reach. 
Not even yourself. 
You had been home and then suddenly not, your body already knowing what you needed before your mind caught up to it. 
The rink wasn’t open, not yet, but you had gotten a key years ago. The owner, David, had been the only one that had looked at you the same back then. There had been a knowing sort of look in his eyes when he had seen you waiting for him at the front door stepps, eyes red. 
He had given you a key, because he had seen you for who you were: a girl whose entire life had collapsed around her. 
Bronze at fifteen, silver at sixteen, gold forever out of reach. 
You could still remember the red pen tucked into your doctor’s coat. The ‘my condolences, but’, the white light, the letter in your hand, the sinking realisation that this was it. 
That you were going to be one of the several girls that had pushed their body too far.
The same way you had done everything back then you had followed the instructions of your therapist to the letter. Stretching, compressions, different exercises. Still, there was no full recovery, no chance of ever skating professionally again. 
That might be the worst part, still being able to skate but knowing that you will never be able to feel it anymore. That you were cursed to be in this limbo, never letting go of it but never being able to live for it anymore. 
The harsh sound of your blade cutting over the fresh ice was as pleasant as it was torture. You wanted more, but you had to settle for this. You had to learn that this was all you were ever going to get. 
These select few hours in the early morning, just before your classes started, before you had to start living your life. 
You could feel yourself drawing harsh breaths, but it didn’t matter. You had pushed through worse, hunger, hurt and feelings just to stand here for a bit longer. The ringing in your ear accumulated when you thought about all that you had lost, that you could never regain.
Suddenly the heavy door of the entrance fell closed. You slowed down, curious who it might be. The clock in the corner of your vision reflected a red 05:57 back at you. It was too early for it to be anyone aside from David or another person with a key, someone like you.
It was a guy, a bag in his hand and another slung over his shoulder. 
You would recognize the equipment anywhere, familiar with it in a distant way. It must be a hockey player that David had picked out out of the hundreds that frequented this place. 
For some reason you already didn’t like him. Maybe because unlike you, he had the chance of actually archiving his dreams. Bitterness was an annoying but frecent emotion that stained the back of your mouth. 
You wanted. You wanted more than this. You wanted the early morning practices, the ones after school, the rigidous schedule, the heavy monitoring. What were you without all that?
The static in your mind had been interrupted by his arrival but you hardly noticed, more focused on the way he walked down the stairs, casually like he had done so hundreds of times already.
It was almost six, which meant it was time to get off the ice anyways, so you circled a few laps, rotating your wrists and shoulders to feel if anything was off, and then made your way towards the outside of the rink. 
“You look pretty,” said the boy from where he was tying his shoelaces up on the benches. “Out on the ice, I mean.”
Something in you hurt at that, as if your heart started pulling at its own strings. It’s been a while since anyone has watched you skate,, since you let someone else watch you. There was a sharp kind of anger rising up in you that it had been him watching you which dissipated as soon as you looked back at him.
It wasn’t his fault. There really was something wrong with you.
You knew your parents didn’t approve of you being here, but they couldn’t look at you anymore when you skated, disappointed that this was how it had ended. Disappointed in you.
“Thanks,” you said, your voice completely scraped raw. You hoped he didn’t notice it. 
“I’m Nico,” he said, approaching you. He held out his hand. He wasn’t wearing gloves yet but his dark shirt had thumbholes that his thumb peeked through which was weirdly endearing on him. 
You looked back up to his face. There was a tired but polite smile plastered on it but you didn’t have the energy to give him one. Instead you simply told him your name and took his hand. Even through his layer of fabric it was warm beneath your icy fingers.
He didn’t flinch at the cold of your hand and instead started genuinely smiling which took you by surprise. People didn’t react to meeting you like this, not anymore. 
Then, without saying anything else, he took off his guards and stepped on the ice, skating around to warm up. You watched him for a bit while scraping off the excess ice and putting your skates away. 
His skating was differentthan yours; not as delicate. The beauty of it had been hammered into you from an early age on which didn’t seem to be the case form him. It was weird, not being on the ice, being the one to watch instead. 
You changed back into your shoes and walked up the steps. 
From the top, which wasn’t all that high because this rink wasn’t that big, he seemed small. You wondered if you looked like that too, if anyone had thought that when you fell down, when they had seen you sprawled on the ice at fifteen, not being able to get up again. 
A sick shudder passed through you. You wondered if you had ever gotten up from that ice.
Then you turned around, your back to him and left without saying goodbye. 
~*~
The next time you saw him again, was two days later, just after six. 
You knew you were going to be late for class but didn’t really care. Today you weren’t as cooped up in your own head, but it was still hard to let go of these stolen few hours of freedom and face reality. 
“Hey,” Nico said, “it’s you again.”
“Hello,” you said in return. He stepped on the ice and you fought off the urge to leave immediately. That would be impolite, a voice reminded you in your head, even if you didn’t want him to be here right now.
“Are you here every morning?” he asked you, falling into step beside you and therefore joining you on your cooldown laps. 
Your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Couldn’t he just do his own thing? Did he have to come talk to you? “Yes.” 
"Dedicated. I only come every second day,” he said as if it mattered to you. You might have to leave early every second day now to avoid talking to him, which made your scowl even worse. 
“Okay.” You said instead. 
He hummed in reason but dropped the conversation after. When you took a look at him from the corner of your eye he didn’t seem deterred at your attitude, seemingly just satisfied that he got a response.
After another lap in, you hated to admit it but companionable silence, you left, without saying anything but this time he waved back at you from below. You didn’t return his gesture. 
~*~
Despite your early judgement, the two of you formed some kind of routine over the next few weeks. You came early, and sometimes you left a protein bar for him in the stands and sometimes he brought  you a hot tea for when you got off the ice. 
Still, always without fail, he joined you for a few laps. He talked about his life and sometimes asked you a few questions. Sometimes you answered him, other times you didn’t. He never pressed for answers. 
Nico told you that he was from Switzerland, which explained the heavy accent. He just joined Halifax, and he came early to work on his technique, preferring to do so in silence without his teammates chirping at him. You, in turn, told him that you had skated, professionally, before your injury. He didn’t ask for details about either of these things and you didn’t share of your own accord. 
Slowly, so slowly that you didn’t even notice, you realised that he had become your friend. 
It was strange. You hadn’t made friends in a long time. Before, you had had school friends, but because you never hung out outside of it, always training, it never deepend. 
A weird sort warmth seeped in under your skin at the thought of the two of you being friends like a steady fire that kept you warm at night.
The friends you had made while skating splintered along with your knee. 
It was hard, you knew that, to see their worst fear reflected back at them, but it was still hard for you to reach out, so you simply stopped talking to each other. 
On your bad days you thought that it was all their fault, on your good you knew that it was a mutual mistake. 
The thing about Nico was that he was hard to pin down. He was hardworking, thrived under pressure and loved hockey. He was also afraid of falling and failing, he loved sitting under the sun in the summers, feeling his skin heat up and his favorite colour was green, but he admitted that it changed every few weeks. 
You knew that this friendship wouldn’t last, not really. Neither of you had any way of reaching out to the other, and neither expressed the desire to do so but it was still nice, this tentative kinship.
~*~
“Have you ever played hockey?” he asked you, once. 
It must have been a Saturday or Sunday because you were in no hurry to get off the ice, instead basking in his company. 
“No,” you answered, simply.
He grinned, “you are missing out.”
“Really now?” you asked, teasingly, when you turned around to skate with your front to him.
“Really. I wanna teach you,” he said, leaving the choice up to you without outright asking. If you wanted to you could just brush it off and the conversation would continue. 
Instead you said, “yeah, sure, why not.”
His smile was blinding, the adoration for his sport bleeding from every inch of his skin. It was a good look on him, happiness. Distantly you wondered if anyone had ever thought that about you.
It was different, skating with a stick in your hands but it was fun. He taught you how to shoot and aim at a certain spot which you weren’t half bad at if you stood still.
Hours later when the two of you stepped off the ice your tea was cold but you hardly noticed it.
~*~
Another day you asked him what he was reaching for. 
“Olympics,” he had answered immediately but after a beat of silence he looked up as if the lights in the ceiling were stars he could wish upon. “I think I want someone to look at me and think ‘I want to do that. I want to start playing hockey.’”
You looked at him and the only thought that crossed your mind was that he was the reason you could step off the ice again, that you knew you would always be able to come back, just one more time. 
“I like that,” you said because it was true. 
He tilted his head back to you, and the way his eyes glimmered with a rare vulnerability made your breath catch. Or maybe that was just the effect he had on you, standing still, alive and just in reach.
Oh. 
That was that feeling in your chest. 
~*~
Yet another day he joined you on the ice and you immediately kicked him off again. 
“What did I say about injuries?” you asked, frustrated in a way only he could make you. 
“That they were not to be ignored,” he parroted back, his gaze between his feet as if staring at his ankle would magically heal it. 
“Exactly,” you said. Then, gentler than before, “you need to give yourself time to heal, otherwise you will never get better.”
He looked back up to where you were hovering above him. “Okay.”
You didn’t want him to have the last word. “Okay,” you said firmly and sat down next to him. 
The two migrated up to the changing rooms  where he sat on a bench with his ankle elevated while you worked through your stretches, your knewww aching in phantom pain.
~*~
Today your mind was quiet.
It was your last time and you had wanted to take it all in again, one last time. You were moving, your father had gotten a new job somewhere in New Jersey. You knew it was good, a new start away from everything, a chance to start over. 
But still, you were going to miss this. The rink, the quiet, the place you had grown up in. The place that was your prison as much as it was your salvation. 
As you looked up towards the ceiling, the lights shining down on you, the dark gary that seemed black in contrast, you thought you should cry. This was the perfect moment to, and you hadn’t yet. 
Then, the door opened. 
You were surprised because he wasn’t supposed to be here today. Nico had been here yesterday and the two of you had argued about your favorite brand of cereal, and you selfishly had wanted to leave it at that. 
To leave your friendship without having to say goodbye, without having to ever really let go of him. 
“Nico,” you breathed, before you could stop yourself. 
“Hey you,” he said, as he came up to you. You didn’t even realise that you had stopped moving. 
“It’s late,” he stated. You looked up to the clock and sure enough, it was almost twenty past. 
“Ah,” you said, uncaring. It’s not like you had school today. You wondered when he went to school, if his just started later than yours had. In all your talks you had never actually talked about it. 
And you never were going to anymore, you had to remind yourself. Suddenly it was a lot harder to breathe through the ache in your chest. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, and you knew he meant it, “you look, I don’t know, sad?”
“I’m moving,” before he could ask anything more, “like tomorrow. This is the last time I’m going to see you in a while.”
“Oh.” The expression on his face was hurt, because he must have realised that you had intended to leave without saying anything. 
“I’m sorry,” you said. “for everything.” You weren’t really sure for what, but it seemed like the right thing to say. For your intentions, the way you acted, maybe.
“It’s okay,” he said, but it wasn’t, not really. You knew that and he knew that you knew.
“I’m moving to New Jersey.”
He was quiet for a bit.”America,” he started. Then, “do you want to exchange numbers?”
You ignored the sting behind your eyes. “I’m probably going to have to get a new simcard, but you can give me yours.”
The two of you skated back to the door, from where you had stood still in the middle of the open space. He got a piece of paper and a pen from his bag and then somewhat messily tore off the corner of a worksheet and scribbled down his number in blue ink and signed it with his name.
He looked up at you but neither of you said anything for a while. What was there to say, anymore? 
“Don’t forget about me,” he ended up telling you and you reached out to hug him. He was warm under your hands, steady and you were going to miss this, him.
“Don’t forget me either,” you murmured into the crook of his neck. 
Still, in the back of your mind, you knew that you were never going to use his number. You were going to cut off your old life before it could follow you to your new one. But for once you had told him the truth, you weren’t going to forget about him, probably ever. 
And that was that. You said goodbye, waved and you left him there. He returned the gesture, face unreadable and you were sad that the last time he looked at you he wasn’t smiling.
From the top you looked down at him one last time. He seemed bigger now, compared to that first time you had looked down at him, still filled with bitterness.
Maybe that was just your imagination, or maybe it was his confidence after playing with his current team, after seeing his results pay off. 
You turned and let the door fall closed behind you. 
Then, and only then tears started to well up in your eyes. You ignored them and moved on. Always looking ahead, never back. 
Still, you kept the number tucked away safely hidden in a small corner of your wallet. A piece of him that you would always carry with you. 
~*~
You made new friends, graduated and decided to attend college. Got diagnosed with chronic depression and mild anxiety, got a boyfriend and broke it off again after three months, cried, laughed and finally lived. 
But there was part of you hidden in the corner of your wallet, too.
~*~
If you were being honest, Nico didn’t really cross your mind when your friend asked you to go to a hockey game with you. 
In a way he did, because he had been one of your few friends that played hockey, but it was more of an oh yeah, the sport Nico loved and not oh yeah I’m going to a hockey game and I wonder if Nico is still playing, I wonder if he made it to the big leagues. 
Okay, maybe that was a bit of a lie, but still. You hadn’t expected this. 
The two of you went to the Prudential Center and you were excited despite your earlier apprehension. Your phone with the blocked tags of icehockey and nhl seemed to burn a hole in your pants but it’s not like anyone would know. 
Your friend had told you a bit about the team, but if you were being honest, you could not remember any of their names, much less which position and line they played. 
When the players got announced, the home team first, you froze. Suddenly the noise of the cheers around you were completely quiet until they flooded back to you, a harsh reminder of reality.
Because it was him. That was Nico. Your Nico. Or like your past Nico.
There, with a red thirteen and a small C over his chest, was Nico. He was all grown up now, and instead of thinking wow, he is kind of attractive when he smiled at the camera, you thought, holy shit, he is really, really handsome. 
Your friend picked up on your strange behaviour. “What's wrong?”
I know him, you wanted to scream. I think he saved my life without meaning to, and I think I loved him but I never told him. What came out instead was, “I think I'm going to be sick.”
“What?” she asked, suddenly even more worried, “do you need fresh air? Or do you just want to leave?”
You wanted to stay. You wanted to shoot a puck at his head and tell him to look up at you, the way he had done back then. 
“No, don’t worry about it,” you said and when didn’t change at your reply, you added, “I’m just going to get some water. I think it might be the crowd or something.”
“Are you sure? Do you want me to come with?”
You knew how much she had been looking forward to it, and besides there was nothing she could help you with anyhow. “No, really, it’s all good. Just need to breathe for a second.”
She gave you a look, and you smiled despite wanting to curl up in a corner and cry, “if you are sure. But if anything,” she took your hand in hers, “if anything is wrong call me. I’m gonna have my phone in my hand the entire time.”
You squeezed her hand the same way your heart did at her words. “Thank you, really, but it’s okay. I'll be right back.”
Then you fled up the stands and you couldn’t help but think about the first time you had seen him, how you had left without saying anything. You looked down, just once, and spotted him immediately, as if he was the north pole to your south, your eyes drawn to him. 
He seemed even bigger now, as if he had finally grown into the steady confidence he had had, even back then. 
You smiled. He deserved it, genuinely. You were glad that he did end up making it to the big leagues, even if some part of you hurt at that. You still missed ice skating, your rink from back then, David, but most of all you missed what could have been if you hadn’t been scared. 
What could have been if you had just texted him. 
Regret was a useless emotion to feel, but all of a sudden you felt yourself drown in and you coughed once, just to ease that feeling in your throat.
Then you turned your back to the ice and walked up the rest of the stairs to the stands to get yourself some water. 
It was useless trying to think about any of it now, so you pushed the thoughts aside for later. 
~*~
A week later you were drunk. It was a Friday evening and you had finally finished the gruelling lab you had worked on for the entire day. 
You were hanging out in your friend’s room, the same friend that had taken you to the game a week before. Two of your other friends were sat ob the floor, leaning gainst the opposite bed and a warm, content feeling spread through your chest. 
You had friends now. 
“What’s wrong?” she suddenly asked from where she was sat next to you on her bed, her back against the headboard, yours against the wall adjacent to it.
“Nothing,” you answered because nothing was. 
“Don’t ‘nothing’ me, tell me,” she said, “you've been quiet ever since we came back from the game a week ago and I’ve waited long enough for you to say something, so now I’m going to.”
Had you been that obvious? Or did she just know you that well? Either way, she deserved the truth, the full truth.
“I just,” you began and stopped again, starting to peel off the sticker on your beer with the blunt edge of your nail. 
“When I was younger, I skated.” You started. You knew that she had never expressed any kind of interest in skating so you elaborated further, “really well.” Wow, you were really eloquent tonight.
“Okay,” she said, no doubt wondering where you were going with this. 
Your mind was fuzzy around the edges because of the drinks which made harder than usual to focus on your words, but it made it easier to talk about it, too. These people didn’t know about anything that had been, only what was. “I was good enough to win. Olympics, I mean.”
Suddenly one of the other two friends from the other side of the room joined in. “The Olympics?”
“Yeah,” you said, staring firmly at the bottle in your hands, not looking at any of them. “I won bronze and silver, fifteen and sixteen.”
“Holy shit,” she said, as did your other friend, but one of them remained quiet, so you looked at her. 
From the look in her eyes you knew that she knew. “And then I fell, badly. Tried to get up again but couldn’t. Went to the doctor and you know,” you trailed off, “retired. Started physiotherapy, got a lot better but…”
“Not enough to ever compete again,” she finished for you. 
“Yeah,” you said, voice hoarse. “But I couldn’t let go of it, you know? So sometimes, before school, I snuck out to the local rink and skated around just because I didn’t know anything else.”
Your friend that was next to you on the bed made an encouraging noise, and laid a hand on your knee, so you continued. 
“Then I met a guy. I was in a bad mental place, not really talking to anyone unless I had to, but we somehow became friends.”
Then you looked at them, “I don’t know, it was a weird friendship because we only ever saw each other at the rink every few days, but I felt something for him anyway. It wasn’t quite love but could have been, maybe.”
The others were still listening, and the words rushed out before you could stop yourself. “Then I moved. Wanted to leave before saying goodbye because that would hurt too much. On the day I was leaving I saw him anyway. He gave me his number but I never used it.”
“You wanted to make a clean cut?” your friend asked. 
“Yeah. It was sefish, because it wasn’t just about me, you know? I should have told him how I felt, but I didn’t.” You shook your head, “but that’s not even the point. I saw him again at the game.”
“Oh,” your friend that had dragged you to it, said. 
“Yeah,” you answered, and your other friend asked, “why didn’t you talk to him?”
The other friend, the one that had never asked you about your skating, even though she had known, even though she had every opportunity to, said, “because he was playing, right?”
“Yeah,” you said and you wanted to cry. You could still hear his name announced by the speakers. “Funny, all the time we spent together and I never knew his last name.”
“Who is it?” she asked, gentle, and you knew you could just not answer. You could bury it deep down, once and for all. But that’s not what you wanted to do, not anymore. 
“Nico Hischier.” And your friend laughed. 
“Of course it’s the captain,” she said and you couldn’t help but join in, the effects of the alcohol cursig through your veins. What were the chances, really? That he ended up in the state you had moved to all those years ago.
The others joined it. “He changed his number by now, I’m sure.”
“Oh yeah, definitely,” one of them said. 
All of you were quiet for a second. “Wait, I have an idea,” she said and moved her hand from your leg and grabbed your phone. 
She gave it to you and made a motion for you to unlock it. You did and gave it back to her. From where you were sat you weren’t able to see your screen, much less what she typed on it. 
After a few seconds she gave it back to you. 
It was Nico’s instagram profile. You hesitated before clicking on his most recent post. Your other friends that had been sitting on the floor climbed up to join you. 
“Follow him,” one of them said. You could feel your heart thumping in your chest. This was not the account you had used to document your wins and training back then, but it still had your first and last name in the username, but it was on private. 
Underneath your thumb the button changed colour. “Fuck,” you said.
The other three laughed at your exclamation. “Wait, do I text him?” you asked, turning to the others. 
They all looked back at you, and one of them asked, “do you want to?”
You did. You really fucking did, but you had no idea what to say. “But what do I say? Hey, sorry for being a dick to you when we were like seventeen, I was half in love with you and didn’t know how to tell you, so I just cut you out before anything could possibly hurt me.”
One of them leaned her head on your shoulder. “If you leave out the half in love part, it’s not too bad.”
“You should also ask if he wants to meet and talk in person,” the other said. 
You opened your notes app and the four of you composed a message to him. 
Your hands were shaking and your heart was beating too fast. This was it, this was your chance and you weren’t going to let go again without a fight. This time you would stay and he could make the choice: to stay or to leave. 
Then, you hit the small blue icon and sent it and let out a quiet scream. You wouldn’t be able to take it back, not anymore. 
You threw your phone away from you onto a small patch where the blanket you were sitting on was still visible. 
Over an hour passed and you still hadn’t heard back from him. Soon after you pased out, but a quiet acceptance had settled in your stomach. He forgot. Or maybe he didn’t see the message or maybe he didn't want to talk to you again, which you couldn’t blame him for. 
But when you woke up the next morning, you had a single notification from him. 
For a second you debated not clicking on it, but that would mean standing still. It would be different this time. You would be different this time. There was an unfamiliar, new kind of determination that flickered up your spine and it reminded you of the steady ice under your skates, of the final hug the two of you had shared. Harsh, unforgiving, certain. 
You clicked on it and there was no going back now.
Nico Hischier Hello, it’s been a while.  Of course I remember you, didn’t I tell you?  For sure, I'd love to meet up and talk. Does next weekend work for you? I have a home game which makes it easier for both of us. 
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notes: So. How are we feeling? Thoughts? Part 2? Please talk to me about this one because this lives in my mind rent free.
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