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#i'm editing this after a seven hour day of classes
temptaetions · 3 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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plumbogs · 1 month
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Making Sims 2 University Fun: my personal guide
I've noticed that while it's probably one of the most utilized of the expansions, TS2's university is generally seen as a slog. Which makes sense. It has a completely different gameplay loop than the rest of the game. But it's very handy to send your sims to college, especially if you use any of the various mods that limit careers based on education. So here's my big guide to making university an actual fun experience to play through (to me, at least).
The university expansion is, uh, very tailored to the 2000s college party time animal-house tropes. the pack becomes more fun when you treat it that way and let your sims be stupid young adults who streak and fool around on campus and throw parties. which, by default, is tricky because of the gameplay that requires so much skill building and assignments. which the rest of this guide will also deal with.
Note: I make some pretty big changes to normal university gameplay, to the point that it does require a bit of modding and at least one instance of fooling with simpe. there's probably also easier ways to do it, and of course everything is optional. maybe you do like keeping sims in dorms for the entire time and just three-speeding trough it all.
*mods: there are a few absolute must-have mods to me.:
TwoJeff's College Adjuster. It's basically an all-in-one controller to adjust semester timing, change semesters, plus a bunch of other features. The semester timing is the most important to me.
Active Classes is still in testing, but it almost completely changes how I play college sims. Once again, I'll detail gameplay later, but actually sending your sims to class makes for a much more fun campus experience.
No College Time Progression On Community Lots: this goes hand-in-hand with the previous mod.
Community Time: IIRC you have to do a little editing in SimPE to make it work right with University - this post explains what to edit. I don't know if I'm allowed to share the exact edit I made as a download. This might seem redundant after the last mod, but there's a reason for the madness: while one group of sims are in their active classes, the other students can do things on the home lot.
Instant Pledge for Greek Houses: This one is important for greek house gameplay, which is later.
SimBlender: There's like, 500 different edits of the SimBlender, and I think all of them have the main function needed for my college gameplay, which is teleportation. You can use a comparable teleporter if you fancy.
Simlogical's University Break is another important one for me, but it's not really necessary if you don't want it. I usually give the sims one break day per season - more on that later.
Autonomous Casual Romance is not required, but it sure adds a lot of fun to your college experience. You can also do any number of professor-limiting, custom degrees, etc mods and fixes you want.
*mods i do not use: there are mods to change the number of/length of semesters, but I seem to run into issues with them so I use the college adjuster to do the same things. I also don't really use any major overhauls, or mods that make term papers faster. I did have the tuition mod for a bit but grew tired of using it.
*general timing changes: I do seven-day seasons with longer lifespans for all sims and play rotations each day. These are the things I do specifically for university:
Four semesters: I only do semesters 2, 4, 6, and 8. Every time a new semester starts, I just use the College Adjuster to set the correct semester for each sim. I use the default length of 72 hours.
Synchronized finals: I use the College adjuster to reset the timer so the finals are all around 6-8am, and synchronized for each sim on a lot. This makes it easier to keep track of timing and skills. Also, all sims in university run on the same 3-day semester. Finals are the same day for the entire college each round. Once again, that just makes it easier for me to keep track of college-wide events for gameplay reasons.
Because this means there's 3 days per school year, and two school years per season week, it syncs better if they get a day off every Sunday using the University break mod.
Teens are sent to college on the same schedule. I send teens to school when they have 14 days or so left, with maybe an extra day or two if the college is currently in the middle of the semester.
*Gameplay: living situations: Here's where the meat begins. Now all your sims are on the same college schedule, they're all being sent to school, and now they need to actually move into college. I follow a real rule a number of colleges use: Every student spends a year in the dorms. Just their freshman year, then they have to move somewhere else. I find that this gives them a chance to meet dormies, adapt to being on college, and sorta figure out what kind of young adults they are. Plus, this gives them time for joining greek houses, which will be talked about later.
I do this because I like seeing sims as their own little characters with arcs and whatever and it forces me to think about what exactly they would be doing in college. Some sims get so frustrated with the constant mess of a dorm, some sims thrive by making friends with every dormie. Sometimes they start new drama with the others they came from high school with. Nothing quite like losing your high school sweetheart to some stinky dormie, after all.
After freshmen year, the students are kicked out of the dorms. They can get an apartment, they can rent a house, they can move into a greek house if they join one. Either way, they need to live somewhere. You can let them stay in the dorms, but I prefer somewhat smaller college households and divide them accordingly. Which gets into that whole greek house situation:
*Gameplay: greek houses. I gamify the Greek houses. I play SSU in my megahood, which comes with a fraternity and sorority, and you can do whatever setup you like there if you dislike gendered houses. Or abandon them all together and ignore this section. There are a few important elements:
Freshmen cannot live in Greek houses. They can, however, pledge while living in the dorms and move in right after their finals end. This includes dormies. There are benefits to the dorm, such as free housing, more social opportunities, usually more money per household since I cheat to make the greek houses actually nice to live in with things like pools and comfortable furniture, etc.
The Greeks have to be recruiting consistently. To keep the house going, they need to constantly be bringing in new members, either playable OR dormies.
Any recruited dormies are required to move in. You can townify them after graduation if you don't really get attached to them, but every member of the house is moved in. I use the instant pledge mod to get rid of that annoying requirement where they have to hang out on the lot so long before moving in. That, and they also move in after finals. You can teleport or invite them on and just ask them to move in. Whatever you want. Then, you must set them to be sophomores. Beyond that you can do whatever. They're playable now. Have fun.
You gotta let the Greeks party. Throw toga parties all the time and use a teleporter to maximize guests. Generally, ALL members of ALL greek houses are teleported to a party by default. Add more dormies, any friends, anybody in the dorms - the kids need to recruit and the easiest way is by forcing everyone on one lot. If you have autonomy mods or realistic alcohol, sit back and watch the madness unfold.
I don't really play wants-based, so playables that join greek houses is more based on vibes or friendship with existing greek members than wants.
*Gameplay: what do you mean we have to study??? Yeah. I made it this far before even bringing up the whole point of college. This is also where it gets a little more complicated and changed up, so bear with me.
I don't do wants-based, again, so I generally just try to make sure sims are at least passing by default. Whether they go beyond a C is up to whatever. I usually try to get knowledge sims to their 4.0s or sims that just seem like they'd take it seriously to max GPA.
ACTIVE CLASSES ARE SUCH A LIFESAVER. You can use the pre-made lecture hall or make your own. Put some skill-building objects in there, and if you like flavor theme the lecture halls around majors. I have a business/gen ed building, a science lot, and an arts lot, each with two classrooms (plus the library contains a classroom). I do believe I made an edit to the mod to make the class performance go higher with active classes, as well, so attending class every day is the bare minimum to get a passing grade.
The active class lots also contain career reward skill-building objects. These are nice because your sims can request to be taught by other sims on the lot. If you have a mod that allows non-students to visit uni lots, this helps even more with faster skill-building.
Every day, I send groups of sims with similar majors to their class. If there's a mixed-major group, each sim group gets one day in active class per semester. (So if there's an economics major, a bio major, and an art major, each one attends class on a separate rotation and the others do the normal autonomous go-to-class where they leave the lot and disappear). They attend one or both of the lectures and otherwise exist on the college lot to skill-build, socialize, eat, etc.
Outside of class, sims will usually research if they're not doing great. I honestly barely bother with assignments or term papers unless the sim actually wants to do them or are aiming for a high GPA. Maybe they go hang out at the lounge or downtown to fool around. Maybe they just fester at home. Whatever they want.
*other gameplay/storytelling things: I usually will take advantage of the aspiration change after their sophomore year if I realize that their aspiration just doesn't really jive with how they act. It's realistic to me. They had many years since being like, 13 when they first had their aspiration selected. I'd like to implement more in the way of holidays/events, personally, but that's not really relevant either. I usually give them an outfit change as well, and I like to go hard with the idea that they're going through a bunch of weird fashion phases. You know you want to give them a mohawk, just for a few days, don't you? Dye their hair red? Shave it all off? Have fun with it.
All of these things combine for me, at least, to make the college years a lot more engaging/interesting and less of a slow "move to a dorm -> study -> read books -> meet needs -> graduate" loop. There's a lot more storyline development that comes from sims being able to enjoy their time as young adults, too, such as the regular polycule jealousy explosions and party fights. It serves to break up anything they had going on as teens and give them a little direction to enter adulthood with. This concludes my little mini-guide, feel free to steal all my gameplay style or just take inspiration if you please. Or ignore it all and shake your head and call me an idiot. do whatever you want forever.
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sissytobitch10seconds · 7 months
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Birdsong: Ribs
Fandom: Grishaverse: Six of Crows and Shadow and Bone (TV) Summary: Wylan is kicking himself in the ass for being as late as he was. He knew that his partners had to be worried, it was almost three hours after he sat that he would be home, after all. It seems as thought the world is determined to make him even later than ever when he hears something in the parking lot near his work. Warnings: Physical assault, mentions of canon-typical grooming/child abuse, and blood Word Count: 10,501 Ship(s): Nina Zenik/Wylan Van Eck/Jesper Fahey/Matthias Helvar/Inej Ghafa/Kaz Brekker
Archive link!
A/N: At the time of writing this, I had not read the books so a lot of the plot was still pulled from the show. I've now finished the book but I don't want to rewrite the whole series so I'm editing some things as I go. If you notice inconsistencies from here on out that's why! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone &lt;3
Wylan winced as the door to his lab shut harder than he had meant it to. He had gotten so wrapped up in the work that he had been doing, finally hitting the breakthrough that he had been searching for, that he hadn’t noticed how late it had gotten. He tried to make sure that he was home no later than six so that he could eat with his partners before Kaz had to go oversee the opening of the Crow Club. Inej often had a call time around seven as well, so it killed two birds with one stone to be home before they left. That way he knew that he had at least one in person interaction with them each day, since they were usually asleep when he woke.
He had broken the rule that he had made with himself by working over what his normal limit was. He didn’t break the rule often, maybe once or twice a year. A lot of the time when he was working in the lab, he was running the same experiment over and over again, which was so monotonous that he would often skip out on a test or two that he could have run that day in favor of doing it the next day instead. It was worse when he was writing his reports, since he had to speak slowly to his speech-to-text program so that he could get it written up faster than it would take him to try and type everything. Spellcheck was a godsend, but reading and writing were so much harder for him than they were for everyone else that he worked with.
Today he had been so wrapped up in the new breakthrough that they had made, that he had totally forgotten to keep track of the time. He had been mumbling down ideas into the notepad app on his phone the entire day so that none of the ideas would escape him. By the time that he had looked up again, ripped from his thoughts as he realized that he was famished, all of his coworkers were gone and the building had been darkened.
Wylan had finished cleaning up the lab and then locked the building as quickly as he felt he could while still being responsible so that he could go home. He hurried towards the parking lot that he had found a spot in that morning after running a little bit behind. That was the annoying thing about working so close to the university campus when school was in session, it resulted in him having to walk two blocks just to get to his car so that he could go home because all the other spots were taken. Still, it meant that they got a lot of student interns so they didn’t have to spend the extra money they were already strapped for, instead just giving them credit for their classes and real world experience.
He tugged his headphones out of his bag and then connected them to his phone as he picked the audiobook that he had been listening to that week. He and Jesper had a mini book club that they participated in, though it was turning into a playful argument about which audiobook producer was the best. Despite the fact that Jesper listened to more podcasts and music than he did audiobooks, he still had very strong opinions about it. Jesper was able to read physical copies even if it was only in short bursts, but Wylan preferred to keep reading as much as he could even with his learning disability, so he tended to plow through the books that they were allegedly reading together. 
The soothing voice of the narrator washed over him as he stuck his hands into his pockets and walked down the street towards his car. He was trying to focus on what was being read to him instead of the plan that he was coming up with for the end of the study. He knew that if they made a big breakthrough and patented or sold something, then they’d be able to continue the work that they had been doing in the lab more than they ever expected to. Wylan didn’t look at science as a way of making money necessarily, he would still experiment by himself even if he wasn’t being paid to do it, but this way he could continue to work with the team that he had grown very attached to.
After about only three minutes and half a block, he decided that trying to pay attention to an audiobook just wasn’t going to happen because he was too invested in what he had been working on. Jesper and Matthias were both going to be very pouty when he got home and all he could talk about was work despite being late. At least Kaz would understand, but he’d be at work until midnight at the earliest.
Wylan let out a little put-upon sigh. It was hard to navigate adult relationships, even if the freedom of adulthood was more than worth it. Sometimes he longed for the simplicity that had come with being a teenager, but he was always quick to remind himself how much happier he was now. Even if he had his partners back then, the abuse that his father had put him through would have made him miserable despite the support of the five wonderful people he had met.
Instead, he hummed the song that had been pestering the back of his mind as he walked. Ever since they had actually started going steady with her, Jesper and Matthias had been playing the music from the band that their new girlfriend was in. The artists were very talented and Wylan had to admit that her voice was soothing, but it was still annoying that they were so good at becoming earworms when he was trying to have other thoughts.
He paused when he got to the edge of the parking lot to the bar that was on the other side of the block to his lab building. The area was mostly deserted now that students weren’t using it to get as close to campus as they could, but a few cars were still parked there. It was one of the least popular bars in town (and Wylan wasn’t biased because the Crow Club was becoming busier every day, he assured himself), so there were only about a half dozen vehicles. 
What really caught his attention was the scene that was unfolding. There was a man wearing a red and white varsity-style jacket with the last name ‘Kaminsky’ stitched into the back and a pair of blue jeans with a thick brown belt. He was advancing on a woman while shouting at her, “You think that you’re tough shit because you stole Alina away from Aleksander but you’re nothing but a fucking whore!”
“Ivan, you’re drunk, you need to go home,” the woman replied.
Wylan took a step forward so that he could get a better look at her. She had coiled brown hair that was loose around her face and shoulders, which only served to bring out the pronounced jawline and cheekbones of her face. Her lips were soft and pouty, but that was mostly because of the peach colored lipgloss that she was wearing. She had accented eyeliner in pink under the black and rosy cheeks to match the eyeshadow. She was wearing a blue mini skirt that was tucking into a loose black bodice that had sheer puffy sleeves. 
Objectively, she was very pretty. Wylan knew that women who were stereotypically attractive tended to get accosted by drunk men a lot, especially since he had begun his queerplatonic relationship with Inej. She had taught him a lot about women that he had never been able to pick up from his step-mother because of their distance. His own mother had disappeared when he was too young to learn about the kinds of things Inej had taught him and come back into his life after he had gotten together with the aforementioned acrobat.
Still, they seemed to know each other so Wylan hung back to let things play their course. He didn’t want to interrupt something and then get shouted at for it, especially when he was already feeling emotionally frayed from working too much that day. He desperately wanted to go home so that he could cuddle with his partners and eat dinner while watching bad TV, but this was important. It was possible that the situation would turn violent and she would need help, but he didn’t want to assume right away.
“You don’t get to talk to me like you know me!” the man screamed. He smashed the beer bottle that had been hanging loosely from his hand down onto the car behind her, which caused a few shards of glass to cut through her freckled skin. Beads of red blood blossomed on the skin and began to dribble down her cheek. She was pinned up against the car, the only other option for her was to move towards the wall which would result in her being trapped from all sides.
Wylan got out his phone and pointed it towards the fight. He had gotten used to doing that a lot when he was a teenager, but he was glad that something had come from that miserable time in his life. Hopefully if things escalated it could actually help the woman.
The woman had finally regained her voice after the sharp cry of panic that she had let out, “Ivan, you know that I don’t control what Alina does! I have nothing to do with the breakup, I just rejoined the band when she said she wanted to start playing again.”
That only provoked the man further instead of de-escalating it like she had no doubt hoped for. “You are the only person that was still allowed to be in contact with her from the old band. I know that you continued the music too. You really think that I’m stupid enough to believe that lie you made up for everyone else?”
“I expect you to be a rational fucking human, but apparently I set my standards too high!” she shouted back at him. “You really think that I single handedly tried to tear down The Fold?” she snarled.
Wylan could hear the fear in her voice as she did so. He took a step forward, preparing to help her if things got more serious, his phone still recording. He could feel her anxiety in his own veins, heart thrumming, lungs gasping for more air, mind racing. 
“I think that you’re a traitorous bitch that would do anything to try and ruin the career of a man you hate,” the other man replied. He kept advancing on her, caging her in with his body more and more. He was svelte, thinner than she was, but he was also a couple of inches taller than her. It was made worse based on the fact that she was cowering back against the car that he had pinned her on.
Wylan envied the confidence that took over her features as she pushed up her chest and stood at her full height despite that mostly closing the space between them. She had a fierce look burning in her eyes, one that Wylan would have never been able to summon up if he had been standing in front of his father during one of their fights. Her mouth twisted into a truly feral smirk as she said, “I had nothing to do with the falling of The Fold. I think that you should talk to your precious Darkling about why he tried to sink all of his money into shit lawsuits to get back the girl that he groomed when she finally dumped his ass and took him for all he was worth. Maybe he should have thought before he decided that he didn’t need a prenup.”
That made Ivan snap. 
He had swung his arm back and then brought it forward before Wylan even had the time to process what he was doing. The sickening crack that sounded as his fist collided with the woman’s jaw made him cringe. He shoved his phone in his pocket so that the camera was peaking out over the fabric and still recording their conversation as he rushed over. He may have been several inches shorter than the attacker, but two bodies were better than one so there was a good chance that he would actually be of some use when it came to helping her. 
“Leave her alone!”
“Stay out of this,” Ivan replied. 
The woman was bent over slightly, slumped against the car. She was supporting herself with one of her hands so that she wouldn’t fall over and holding her cheek with the other. One side was still dripping blood down her forehead so that it streaked the rest of her face and the other side was no doubt going to be blooming with a dark bruise based on the sound alone.
“You know, I don’t think that I will,” Wylan replied. He reached down into his bag for the pepper spray that he brought with him everywhere he went. He was a little less paranoid about people randomly attacking him when he was out on the street than Kaz, but the couple weeks that he had spent homeless had made it so that he never went anywhere without a way to protect himself. Just remembering the fights escalating to the point where he had decided the open streets were safer for him made him furious that the woman was being attacked out in the open like that.
Coming over to help had the effect that he wanted, which was both a good and a bad thing. Ivan had seemingly forgotten about the woman and had turned fully to Wylan, but there was more hate and rage burning in his drunken eyes than before. “This has nothing to do with you,” he snarled, spewing flecks of spit out towards Wylan.
“This has something to do with me because you’re attacking someone less than a block from the place where I work! I may not know who you are or why you’ve decided to be an absolute ass, but it’d be wrong of me to just walk away. That’s the right thing for you to do, though,” he said confidently. He uncapped the pepper spray in his bag and then wrapped his fingers around the small bottle. It would take him less than a second to bring it out, aim, and then incapacitate the man, as long as alcohol was the only thing in his system. He had seen pepper spray being used on another one of the homeless youth from his camp, and because the other had been on PCP it had been basically useless.
“He’s right, Ivan. What would Fedyor think about you doing this? I know that your husband still works for that scum but we were once friends. I don’t think that he’d be very happy about you wailing on me,” the woman said as she righted herself.
“Keep my husband’s name out of your mouth, wench,” he snarled as he turned back around. Apparently mentioning whoever she had was the wrong move, as he wrapped his hand into her dark locks and threw her down to the ground.
Wylan had moved in an instant, before he even knew what his legs were doing. He brought the pepper spray out of his bag as he moved, aiming and spraying just as he had been playing over and over again in his mind. The red liquid dusted through the air until it was covering the eyes and face of the attacker, burning into his skin.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he screamed as he fell down to his knees and began to claw at his eyes. It would do nothing to remove the irritant from where it was sticking, but it was the only thing he could think of in his addled state to get rid of the feeling.
Wylan quickly stepped around him and then offered his hand out to the woman. She had bounced hard against the asphalt of the parking lot but was already beginning to right herself, one hand once again cupping the side of her face. “Do you think that you can stand?” he asked as he offered his hand out to her.
She nodded weakly as she took it and used it to haul herself to her feet. She whimpered as she took a step, her ankle doubling because of the break in her heel. She bent down and removed both of her shoes, looping her fingers around the back so that she could carry them. Wylan took her hand in his again and then began to pull her down the street so that Ivan couldn’t get up and follow them if he somehow overcame the burning that of the pepper spray. It was unlikely that would ever happen because of the potentness of the irritant, but Wylan had learned that sticking around to make sure the monster had been taken down resulted in getting hurt.
They ran over the street, crossing against the red light because there were no other cars on the road. She held onto him like if she let go then she’d drift back to the place of pain and fear that she had been in before, something that he was intimately familiar with.
Wylan was by no means unfit, but he didn’t work out as much as his partners did. He and Kaz tried to do at least a little bit of physical activity, Wylan so that his body didn’t go stiff with how long he spent over a desk and Kaz to help self-regulate his chronic pain issues. Matthias worked out because he enjoyed it, Inej did it because it was part of her job, and Jesper somehow managed to stay fit because of the singing and acting that he threw himself at every chance he got. 
Running down two blocks and into the parking lot where his car was left him gasping for air, along with the woman next to him. Her chest was heaving to bring in air even though she was nowhere as winded as he was. He wondered what she did for a living that let her have that much breath control, but now wasn’t exactly the time to ask.
He winced as he realized what he had done, eyeing her shoes where they were still clenched in the hand that wasn’t holding onto his. He dropped her hand then when he remembered that he hadn’t yet let go and said, “I’m sorry for bringing you all the way here, I should have brought you to your car.”
She waved him off dismissively, “I didn’t drive here and this is far enough that I can’t imagine Ivan being able to follow us.” She paused for a moment as her hand drifted up to where she had hit her head through the thick chocolate curls and Wylan remembered another thing that he technically should have done.
“Would you mind if I checked you out? I may not be a medical doctor but I’m still trained in first aid so I should be able to see if you have a concussion or not,” he explained nervously. He reached into his bag and dug out the keys to his car, unlocking it with a fluid motion. He opened up the hatch to the back and then pulled the emergency wool blanket over the dirt and grim covered edge so that she had somewhere to sit that was relatively clean.
It was a bit of odd paranoia that had followed him well into adulthood, even after he had become the legal owner of a home. He knew that it was unlikely that he would ever break up with his partners and even more unlikely that it would be all of them, or that him no longer being in a relationship with them would result in him being back on the streets, but it was a worry that always hung heavy in the back of his mind. He made sure that any vehicles that he owned had enough space for him to sleep in the back comfortably so that he wasn’t quite as exposed as he had been when he was a teenager.
“Right, you probably should,” she nodded. “I think if I said no my friend Tamar would find out and actually come to kill me.”
She let out another one of her pleasant laughs. It made Wylan feel comfortable and happy, settled back into his body instead of pushed out of his skin by adrenaline and bad memories. This woman reminded him a lot of Inej, though she was soft where Inej was sharp and quick where Inej was slow. While Wylan’s queerplatonic partner was a lot more partial to fixing people that bothered her with a silent yet deadly stare that promised untold pain, the woman next to him was the type to face her problems head-on with all the ferocity that she could muster. She didn’t seem jagged and broken afterwards the same way that Inej did, her confidence letting her head stay high instead of crumbling to dust after.
Wylan wanted to get to know her more, but he could do that after he made sure that she was okay. “I’m going to check your pupils with the flashlight on my phone,” he warned her. She had sat down on top of the blanket in front of him so that he could reach her easily, which he was grateful for. Despite the fact that she had already removed her heels, which had made her a few inches taller, she was nearly a head taller than Wylan when he was standing at his full height. 
She just hummed in acknowledgement, choosing not to nod her head, which was probably for the best. Wylan grabbed his phone from his pocket and stopped the recording that he had completely forgotten about. He then placed his hand on the edge of her eyelid. He shook the device in his other hand twice to activate the flashlight before he brought it up and shone it directly into her eye. The pupil shrank and revealed more of the beautiful green color in her irises.
He repeated the process on the same eye once and got the same response before he did it to the other. When he was sure that her pupils were dilating and constricting as they should have been, he pressed the light button on the back of his trunk so that they could properly see each other. The overhead streetlights had given them enough that he wasn’t worried about hurting her while he checked her out, but it would be easier for them both to maneuver around.
Wylan fidgeted with his first aide kit as he tried to figure out what he was going to do next. Before he even got the chance to start forming a sentence, she asked, “What’s your name?”
“Huh?”
He winced. He wasn’t very good at meeting new people. 
She didn’t seem to mind very much, just laughing again. She slid further back into his car so that her knees were hugging the lip of the trunk. “I think it’s only fair that I get to know your name after everything that I put you through,” she explained easily. She was so warm, like freshly baked bread or pancakes directly off of the griddle. She had just been through something so deeply traumatizing and yet the kindness and compassion that she seemed to carry with her came off of her in waves.
“You didn’t put me through anything,” Wylan shook his head. “I could have just kept walking or gone into the bar to get one of the bouncers to help you if I didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted to help. I know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of some guy’s anger.”
Worry took over her pretty features for a moment before she winced and placed her hand up on her face where she had been struck. “So does that mean that I get to know your name or are you going to be the handsome stranger that saved me for the rest of my life.”
For some reason, he didn’t feel panicky or strange when she called him handsome the way that he had when other woman had done the same thing. It made him feel bashful and excited the same way that he did when Inej called him that, like she was complimenting him objectively instead of seeing someone that she could possibly romance. It was a different feeling than when his boys complimented him, which made fire run through his veins and excitement flip his stomach. “Wylan,” he supplied after he realized that he hadn’t answered her again.
Her face fell and her eyes widened. For a moment he was worried that she was going to puke or that he had missed a pivotal sign of concussion despite her not acting like she was dizzy or nauseous before. Then she asked, “Hendriks?”
He nodded, “How did you know?”
She sighed and slumped against the side of his car, her head resting against the rubber insulation on the side that wasn’t already swelling with injury. “My name is Nina Zenik. You and I were supposed to meet tomorrow so that Jesper and Matthias could introduce me to you.”
“Oh!” he gasped. Relief washed over him as he realized just how much of a good thing it was that he had interrupted the fight instead of minding his own business. Sticking his nose where it didn’t belong had actually resulted in him getting a lot of good things in life, which is why he had made such a massive habit out of it despite the way it had treated him in childhood. “I thought that you looked a little bit familiar.”
She righted herself, squaring her shoulders dramatically before she stuck her hand out in front of her. Wylan took it and gave her a shake like she had been asking for as she said, “It’s good to meet you.”
“You as well,” he laughed. “Now, do you want me to take you back to your apartment?”
Nina deflated again. Her eyes glanced back towards the parking lot that they had come from. She took a moment before she finally, cautiously answered, “I don’t think that I can go home. Ivan and Fedyor both know where I live and where I keep my spare key. I’ve been trying to find a new place to move it but I haven’t quite figured it out yet so there’s a chance…”
“Do you have a friend that you want to stay with?” he asked instead, not judging her in the slightest for not wanting to go home. Wylan himself had struggled with panic attacks for the first week that he had been living in his family estate after he had inherited it. Matthias and Jesper had spent every waking moment that they weren’t working or spending time with their other partners helping him remodel the house so it felt more like his home and less like his prison. If she felt at all unsafe in her apartment then there was no way that he was going to pressure her to go back, especially since he understood that feeling.
A small blush joined the makeup on her cheeks, which only served to highlight the freckles brushed across her nose and ears. “I would suggest that you bring me to Matthias and Jesper if you hadn’t already told me that you were their partner.”
“I can bring you back to the house,” Wylan immediately replied. Just the idea of doing so already soothed a lot of the anxiety that had been brewing in his gut. He was worried that the second she was out of his sight something horrible was going to happen to her, like it had been before he arrived. It was a lot less creepy to suggest that he take her back to his home when he knew that she was already very familiar and comfortable around two of his partners, so he was grateful that they had learned that fact about each other that early into their interaction.
“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to intrude or anything, I know that the five of you live together,” she touched the edge of her mascara where it was still smearing with blood. 
He offered her a shy smile as he reached into the first aid kit that he kept in the back of his car. “Well I actually own the house, so I’m technically the one that gets to decide who does and does not get to go inside of it. Step mother? Proably not. The woman that two of my boyfriends have been going out with that just got hurt? Absolutely.”
She laughed, more of the tension beginning to melt from her. It was clear that she was beginning to come down from the adrenaline rush that the fight had brought her, the exhaustion hanging off of her. Wylan wanted to get some of her wounds cleaned up in the car before they had the actual first aide expert look her over. 
Finally finding what he had been searching for, he handed her a wet wipe and asked, “Do you need to go to the ER or do you feel comfortable coming back to my place?”
“It’s going to sound so silly,” she mumbled as she picked at the edge of the wipe’s packaging.
“I don’t think anything you say when you’re going through shock is going to sound silly,” he assured her. It was a bold move from a very unbold person, but he touched her arm to try and emphasize what he had said with actions.
She leaned easily into the touch as she collected her thoughts. She then said, “All I can think about is seeing Matthias and Jesper. I know we haven’t been together for nearly as long as you have, but they’re the best thing that has happened to me in a long while.”
“Not your band getting back together?” Wylan asked.
She shook her head and then winced. She unwrapped the wet wipe and then tenderly brought it up to her face. Nina was only able to get some of the blood off of her skin, a decent amount of it already congealing and making it monumentally harder to do what she needed to.
Carefully, he pried the item from her hand and then began to patiently rub it over her skin to clear away the blood. She scrunched her nose and took in a sharp inhale when he got closer to the cuts. He couldn’t see any shards of glass so far, but he wasn’t trying to clean out the wounds, but rather make her more comfortable until he could actually tend to them properly.
While he was cleaning she explained, “My band getting back together has been messy, as you saw with my fight with Ivan. I was partially signed to the label owned by a really famous artist and when I started refusing to produce music under the contract I got in a lot of trouble. They stole a shit ton of money from me but I made it work. They didn’t really like that and so now I’m on the shit list for the rest of my life.”
“If that was anything to go by then I can see that,” Wylan murmured. He got the gauze out of the first aid kit and then wound it around his hand until it made a thick pad. He slipped it off of his nimble fingers and pressed it to the cuts on her face before they had the chance to continue bleeding. “Do you want to do the rest of the cleaning and tending back at the house?”
“Yes,” she nodded immediately. “As comfortable as the back of your car is, I would much rather have somewhere that has soap and running water.”
He held his hand out to help her steady herself as she stood back up properly. She was holding the gauze to her face with one hand and moving around the edge of the car with the other. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the asphalt making up the parking lot had to be painful on her stockinged feet.
While she was moving, he packed up the first aid kit again and then shoved everything properly into his trunk. He clicked the light off and shut the hatch before he went to the driver’s side and got in. He turned the car on so that the heater was running and hopefully helping to warm her up since the night was a little bitter and she didn’t have a coat.
“I’m going to text the others to tell them what happened before we get going, is that okay?” Wylan asked as he motioned to his phone with his other hand.
She nodded her consent and he got to work. He opened up the group chat that he had with his partners and then held the phone up to his mouth. He spoke clearly and deliberately so that the speech-to-text program could actually write down what he wanted to say. “I’m sorry for being home so late from work, but I found Nina in a fight with someone. She’s doing mostly okay but I’m going to bring her back to the house so that we can help her. Be home soon, love you.”
He glanced at her, a bit sheepish as he sent the message off to his partners. He connected his phone to the car’s computer and opened Spotify so that he could pick some music as a social lubricant. He felt comfortable with silences, even relished in them at times, but he had been dating Jesper for long enough to know that other people felt pressured to talk when everything else was quiet. Music usually stamped that down at least a little, made silences between acquaintances more comfortable and soothed anxieties.
He had four pinned playlists other than his liked songs up at the top, each with a combination of his name with one of his partner’s. It was something cute that they had done with each other, making a playlist where they could send messages to the other, give music suggestions, or just generally be sappy. It worked best with Kaz, who loved them very, very, very much but had trouble being able to express that physically on some days.
Wylan had been thinking about Inej a lot since he had gotten Nina back to his car, a lot of the feelings he had for her recurring in his chest. Of course the emotions were nowhere near as strong as they were for Inej since he had known her longer, but they were still there. He had only ever felt the warm giddiness pooling in his chest for one other woman before, and it was the one that he was queerplatonically dating. He was going to have to take a moment to process that when he was no longer feeling quite so sleepy and frazzled. 
He finally settled on the one that he and Matthias had made for each other, setting it to shuffle before he deposited it down onto the center console. His phone lit up with a couple of texts from his partners but he was unable to read what they said or who had sent them. The only way that he had been able to parse through his playlists was because the covers had been very unique, for the express purpose of helping him when he was struggling with reading. The combination of him overworking himself earlier that day and the adrenaline made the words swim in front of him whenever he tried.
Once his bag was deposited into the back and Nina was buckled in, he pulled out of the parking lot and began the drive back to his home. He lived on the very outskirts of the city so it was going to take them a while to get there despite the ten o’clock traffic being so light that outside of the center of town, there was no one.
He had been right to start music for the drive. Nina didn’t seem to be up to doing much talking, simply holding the gauze to her forehead and switching hands when one got tired. Wylan made sure to check on her every so often by glancing in her direction, admiring how cinematic she looked when the streetlights were bathing her in soft yellow and red light.
The ride had been going smooth until they got about ten minutes away from the estate. A new song that Matthias had added came onto the radio, and it just so happened to be one of the ones that her band had produced. Wylan had been informed that it was Nina singing since those songs all happened to be Matthias’ and Jesper’s favorites, not that they were biased, but it was also deeply personal to him. He couldn’t relate to every line that was said, but it was so reminiscent of the way that he had grown up and how he would raise children if he and his partners ever decided to have them.
The sultry voice murmured out of the radio as he reached down to change the song. Before he got the chance, Nina’s hand landed on top of his and stopped him from doing so. She gave him a kind smile as she began to sing along, matching the notes perfectly since it was her.
“Marrow made a wife of Eve, but no one gave up a rib for me and mine. My hearts did expose to the elements, calloused and untouched by a man's design. Oh, my ugly organs, how lucky we are. Brick and mortar between my bones, built a kingdom fierce and fortified. My name fading from the yellow page, stones are laid upon the mountainside Oh, my savage empire, ow lucky we are, never to be moved by the words of a liar. The dark doesn't frighten me, I chose to close my eyes. It is mine, it is mine. The night doesn't frighten me, I chose to let it thrive. It is mine, it is mine. Time has changed the metaphor. Now, dust is not the origin of bone Little girl, don't let them sell you any armor, all your ribs are still your own. Oh, my precious child, how lucky you are, handed down a shield for your tender parts.”
By the time that they had reached the end repetition of the chorus, Wylan had joined her in singing the song. It felt cathartic to be able to sing it out loud when usually he was too shy to do so. The song was raw in a way that many things rarely were any more, which was only part of the reason that he adored it so much. 
Nina hadn’t removed her hand from where she had stopped him from changing the song. Instead, their hands lay on the center console. Their palms were pressed flush and their fingers slotted together without interweaving. It felt right and gentle, not forward despite them having only known each other for half an hour.
When the song finished, she took a deep breath. “I wrote that song immediately after I left The Fold. So many of my emotions went into it and it was so personal, I wanted to produce it under my other name. It fit better with Shadow and Bone than it did with Heartrender, though, and the band agreed that they’d be okay with producing it.”
“Is it about everything that happened under that label?” Wylan asked, his eyes darting towards her for just a moment. He was worried that he was asking something that was too personal or prying into a wound that hadn’t healed yet. 
She didn’t seem to mind as she gave him another affirmative hum. “It was also based off of some of the things that happened when I was young. I knew Alina, one of my bandmates, when we were both fifteen. We went to that huge Catholic school, the one that everyone else calls the Little Palace because the chapel attached to it makes it look kind of like a castle. We were both so sheltered and we had all that religious drivel drilled into us so hard. It made me feel so guilty for being able to love women as well, but it also opened us up to some pretty nasty older men. I was able to avoid it from the romantic side, but when Kirigan approached us and promised us the fame and fortune that we had been dreaming of, there was no way that we could reject it. We signed with him and things got worse for her but they eventually got better for me. We’re both okay now, but that song…”
“I relate to it too,” Wylan gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. “My dad was shit and my mom was always telling me that I had to find armor wherever I could find it. She left when I was eight and then she couldn’t be my armor anymore, so I had to find it in other things. There was no one there to protect me,” he shook his head as the memories all came pouring back.
Nina took in a deep breath and cleared her throat. “That’s enough hard stuff for tonight! We should talk about something else.”
“Yes,” Wylan nodded in agreement. His face then brightened as he turned onto the street that would lead him to his home, “Have you had the chance to meet Trassel yet?”
“I haven’t! Matthias was going to bring him to a date that we were supposed to have in a park but then we got that horrible thunderstorm and had to change to a cafe, which meant no dog,” she pouted. 
“Well you’re about to meet him. I want to warn you that in pictures he looks a lot smaller than he actually is because Matthias is massive. He’s absolutely sweet but can be kind of scary if you were expecting a dog closer to the size of a lab,” Wylan informed her. He had a bad reaction when he first met Trassel because of the sheer massive size of the dog, despite Trassel being the sweetest animal that he had ever had the fortune of living with.
They pulled into the driveway and then the garage. He noticed that Kaz’s car was gone, but the one that Matthias and Jesper shared was parked dutifully in the spot on the other side of the garage. “I knew that it had to be a big place for you to all live together but I wasn’t expecting it to be this huge,” Nina commented as she carefully got out of the car.
“We’re not secretly rich or something, this was the only thing that I inherited from my dad when he died,” Wylan explained as he grabbed his bag and phone. He got out and locked the vehicle. 
A smile pulled at his lips as he could already hear the deep barking from inside the house where his pet had heard the garage door opening. Trassel was smart enough to know that meant someone was coming home and he adored them all so much that it didn’t matter which one of them it was.
Wylan walked over to Nina and brought her to the steps that led to the backdoor of the house instead of the ones that led to the dog run in the sideyard. It had been a massive undertaking for the rest of his partners to get used to the size of the estate when they had finally moved in. The only reason that Wylan had been an exception to that was because he had grown accustomed to every nook and cranny of the place while hiding from his father and private tutor.
They stepped over the threshold and into the kitchen just as Trassel finished barreling down the stairs that led up to the bedrooms. The space that they were in was massive, but felt more snug than it had in Wylan’s childhood because of the details that his partners had helped him add to the space to make it his own. The tile was white and black diamonds that went halfway up the walls. They had recently painted the kitchen to be a butter yellow color, with red curtains hanging and drawn over the windows. All of the appliances had been updated within the last couple of the years but were also the ugliest stainless steal. The fridge was the best part, now covered in little magnets and sticky note reminders for each of them. Art hung around the cupboards, which were a rainbow set of colors in the most obnoxiously bright yet not neon colors that they could find. Every surface other than the counters was also cluttered with aloe vera and spider plants, which Inej had brought from her apartment when she had moved in. 
“Hi puppy!” Wylan beamed as he patted his lap to call the dog over to him. He knew that Nina would likely need a second or two so that she could become accustomed to the new space that she was in.
Trassel barked excitedly as he immediately ran over to Wylan. He was massive even for a utonagan, coming up to the Wylan’s waist with all four paws down on the ground. He was also about a hundred and ten pounds, most of which appeared to be fur as they got closer to the winter months. He was beautiful shade of brown-black with the white clinging to his chest and the underside of his muzzle. It would likely spread as he continued to get older, but at only five years old he had retained all of the luscious color he had been born with.
“Have you been good today?” Wylan asked as he began to run his fingers through the side of the dog’s face. The fur around the top of Trassel’s head was his favorite, soft and already brushed back so it didn’t hang in front of his eyes or nose. 
He received another bark as the dog’s excitement rose. When Trassel got so overwhelmed that he placed his hands onto Wylan’s chest to get closer to his face, Wylan reached down and took his hands. It stressed his hips enough that he calmed down, so Wylan let him go as soon as he had calmed.
When he saw Nina he barked again and rushed over to her. She knelt down in front of him as she dug her hands into his fur and began to baby talk him. “Hello there, hello! I bet I smell like all kind of interesting and same things, don’t I? You’re so handsome, so handsome,” she murmured.
The meeting was cut short as they were reminded why they were there in the first place. Matthias walked down the hall with Inej and Jesper hot on his heels. “Nina?” he called out, his voice more accented than it was normally, which just illustrated how stressed out he was.
“Hey,” she breathed as she rose to her feet. Matthias was by her side in an instant, peeling back the gauze that was just barely soaked with enough blood that it was sticking to the wounds on its own.
Trassel was wuffling and barking to be played with, so Jesper grabbed him under the collar and led him to the back door. “Go run,” he instructed with a firm point to the space that they had for him. He listened and rushed outside so that he could complete his course and get a prize. As soon as the dog had been taken care of, Jesper rushed back to his girlfriend to check on her. “What happened?”
“I was attacked by an old friend of mine’s husband. He was drunk,” Nina explained. She winced as Matthias reached up and peeled the gauze away. It broke some of the scabs that had begun to form there and restarted some of the bleeding.
“Here, why don’t we move to the bathroom to get you cleaned up,” Inej said. She swatted Matthias hand so that he would leave the wounds alone until she could take care of them herself. Matthias did know a decent amount of first aid and wouldn’t make anything horrendously worse, but he wasn’t as knowledgeable as her.
The group moved through the house until they were upstairs in the master bath. While they were walking, the shorter of the two women said, “My name is Inej. You probably guessed that since I’m the only feminine presenting person here that could be called girlfriend,” she chuckled.
“Nina Zenik,” the other replied. “You’re about to go on some sort of tour, aren’t you?”
“I have a couple of shows in Vegas that I’m doing this week,” she nodded. “I was cuddling with the boys while waiting for Wylan to get home when we got his message. I’m the one that knows first aid the best so I got up to help you. It’s wonderful to meet you, Nina, even if I wish it was under better circumstances.”
“At least we got to bring it forward?” she offered with a light laugh. 
The master bathroom was huge, so it was no trouble for the five of them to get inside. Matthias took up the spot on the edge of the tub where he could see all of his partners. Wylan and Jesper stood near the shower part of the room, leaning heavily against the gray colored glass with their fingers interwoven between them. Nina was sat down on the counter space between the two sinks while Inej spread out the things that she would need to check and clean the wounds around them. “How did you get these?” she asked as she turned Nina’s face to the side to get a better look at them.
“Ivan broke a beer bottle above my head and some of the glass got on me,” she said. “I think that they’re mostly just weeping so much because they’re on my face, they don’t feel all that deep.”
“They’re not,” the other woman answered. She got a wet cloth with some antibiotic soap and then carefully began to drag it across the wounds. Nina winced and let out a little whimper, holding her hand out towards Matthias. He was there in a second, threading their fingers together so that she could focus on something other than the pain of having her wounds checked.
Once they were cleaned, Inej put some cream on them that would help fight any leftover bacteria and numb the area to dull the pain. “Do you have any allergies?” she asked as she fished through the pile of band aides. Kaz had topical allergies, bursting into hives whenever he had an adhesive that less than medical grade on his skin.
“No,” Nina replied. “Nothing that you’d have in that kit, anyway.”
Inej plucked one of the larger plasters from the pile and then opened it up. She set it over the biggest of the cuts and then used two smaller bandaids for the others until everything was covered. “I don’t think that there’s anything I can do for that bruise, other than this,” she supplied a small jar containing a balm. “It will sting really bad and it smells quite strong, but it helps aide the healing process.”
Nina glanced towards Wylan and he gave her a confident, reassuring nod. The balm that Inej had was a godsend for sore muscles, which he and Kaz often got. “Alright,” Nina agreed with a little nod. Matthias brought his hand to the side of her head that wasn’t being tended to, running his long fingers through her thick hair as he pressed a kiss to her temple.
Inej’s skilled, calloused fingers dipped into the balm and then began to carefully and evenly spread it across the darkened area on Nina’s face. When she finished, she wiped her hands off on a baby wipe and offered Nina a makeup remover wipe. “If you’re going to be staying here tonight then I think you’d like to be comfortable.”
“Yes, thank you,” she replied as she took the offered object. Inej cleaned up the rest of the scraps before she ushered the other two boys out of the room. Wylan and Jesper hung in the background long enough to hear them making plans about clothing and where she might sleep.
Eventually, Wylan tugged his boyfriend down to the kitchen so that he could cook something. Eating always settled their nerves and made them feel better, especially since they had both been rather food insecure at one point in their lives. Jesper jumped up onto the island counter in the center of the room, folding his legs underneath him to make balancing easier while watching Wylan working. “So what happened?”
“Well, I got lost in my work, which is why I was late coming home,” he winced. He had forgotten to properly apologize for that and bringing it up had reminded both of them that it had happened in the first place. He set down the tortillas and cheese that he had gotten out of the fridge as he walked over to Jesper. He wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist to bring them closer together, knocking their foreheads together softly. “I’m sorry for not texting you as soon as I realized what time it was and for losing track of time. I know you worry about us when we go silent.”
“Inej had to talk me down like four times. I was a second away from texting Nina to get reassurance that you were alright and she doesn’t know anything about that particular issue yet,” Jesper mumbled. He was pouting slightly but there was real hurt behind his words.
“I’m sorry,” Wylan apologized again. He brushed their lips together in a sweet yet chaste kiss to accent the words with something positive.
It worked and the anger immediately drained from Jesper. “I know. I just worry that something bad has happened to you guys when you don’t respond like that. Like with my mom…”
“I love you,” Wylan whispered as he brought their lips together for another sweet kiss. Jesper’s mom was a sensitive topic that would result in a lot of feelings about his own mother, feelings that Wylan wasn’t quite emotionally prepared to look into that night. 
“I love you, too, baby,” he mumbled as he held the side of Wylan’s face.
Neither of them had been able to clock the sound of the garage opening and shutting over Trassel’s barking from the backyard. They lived far enough away from the city that sometimes he found deer and foxes out past the fence that he wanted to talk big game about but could never dream of ever getting to, so they tuned out the sound of his barking at that tempo. They both realized what he had been barking at when the door to the garage shut and Kaz said, “I thought that we had agreed no food was to be left out on the counter.”
Wylan broke away from his boyfriend and then flushed when he realized that he had been caught. They were supposed to make sure that anything that wasn’t actively being eaten or used was put away to make sure that their mischievous puppy didn’t devour it and make himself sick. “I’m sorry, I was supposed to be cooking something for myself since I missed dinner but then Jesper and I got talking and that led to…” he trailed off and felt his face flush harder. “Sorry.”
Clearing his throat loudly to get the attention on himself, Jesper jumped off of the counter and stuffed the food back into the fridge. “That is enough apologizing from Wylan! We don’t want our sweet boy thinking that he has done all the wrong in the world, after all,” he grinned as he wrapped his arms around the aforementioned man’s waist.
“Jesper,” he complained as he was bombarded with kisses. He knew that part of it was actual adoration for him and the other part was the actor trying to make sure that his anxiety didn’t overwhelm him. When it was clear that Jesper wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, Wylan turned to face their boyfriend, “You’re home early. Is everything okay?”
“It was a slow night and I thought that you would all be able to use me here more,” he replied. “Also, I got you all something to eat.”
He placed the bags of food down on the table and Wylan felt his heart sing. It was hard for Kaz to show love in the same way that Jesper did, but his actions meant so much in their relationship. “Thank you,” he breathed as he tried not to cry from how overwhelmed he felt.
“You’re alright,” Kaz reminded him gently as he brought their lips together in a very chaste kiss. That was all that Wylan was going to be able to get from his partner after work. Even if the Crow Club had only a dozen patrons, the amount of strangers that he had to be around when he was working often overwhelmed Kaz to the point where he didn’t feel safe being touched unless he instigated it. He had updated the group chat when he had been in the office for half an hour, which Wylan had seen just before he realized what time it was.
They moved to the living room with the food and an extra set of paper towels. The living room was their biggest work in progress yet since it had been a formal parlor before they had moved in. They were slowly replacing all of the hyper modern furniture with the more vintage pieces that they preferred, which meant that seating was a little bit sparse at the moment. The most modern piece that they had left in the room was the sectional that could transform into a big enough space for all five of them to cuddle together when they wanted to. The TV stand was pulled straight out of the sixties, reshaped by Matthias and Jesper so that it could actually fit their flat screen in the middle of display case. The rug and coffee table had been picked out by Inej, both of them reminiscent of how her house had been decorated before her parents’ accident.
The trio settled in to eat what Kaz had picked up for them, Wylan and Jesper both sitting on the ground with their backs pressed to the couch while Kaz sat in the armchair that he had gotten to help with his pain before they had even moved in. Other than his clothes, it was the only thing from his old apartment above the Crow Club that he had brought with him.
About fifteen minutes later they heard some of their partners coming down the stairs and turned the TV off. Nina was walking hand-in-hand with Matthias, wearing a pair of Jesper’s sweatpants and one of Matthias’ shirts since everyone else had a vastly different body shape compared to her. 
“Hey baby,” Jesper said as he moved onto the couch. She smiled, trying to hold back tears as she trekked over to him. She collapsed down onto the couch, her legs pulled up near his chest and her head immediately on his shoulder. He moved his arm around her back and pressed a kiss over the top of the band aids on her forehead. “How are you doing?”
“I’m tired and scared,” she mumbled. “Glad that it was Wylan that helped me, though.”
“Yeah, he is pretty great like that,” Matthias replied. He stooped down and kissed Wylan within an inch of his life. “Thank you for being such an amazing, kindhearted person, min brandstifter.”
“That was one time,” he muttered, his cheeks turning a dark red color with embarrassment.
Inej sat herself down in his lap and stole a couple of his fries. He didn’t mind, since she indulged in processed foods so rarely that she deserved a treat. “It’s fun to tease you.”
He buried his face into her shoulder, which he knew was why she had sat down on him like she had. “Fun for you, maybe.”
Nina laughed, which was a great sound to hear with how clearly worn out she was. The energy in the room got a lot more somber when Jesper asked her once again what had happened. She recounted some elements from her past like she had for Wylan in the car, still refusing to let herself cry. She cuddled in between her boyfriends like they were going to be able to save her from her own bad feelings, something that Wylan remembered doing vividly after he got the news that his father had died.
She finished telling her story and they all agreed to watch something calm to wind down before bed. Wylan finished his food and then gave Inej a sweet kiss on the cheek before he dumped her down onto the couch next to Kaz. He made sure that there was enough space between them that they wouldn’t accidentally crash together. “I’m going to go shower, I know you’ll all probably be in bed by the time I get back,” he sighed. He was both glad and upset that he had gotten off work so late.
“We’ll see you in the morning,” Matthias promised as he tenderly kissed his boyfriend. Jesper mimicked the movement as well before settling in next to Nina. 
“I can give you a kiss if you want, but what I really want to do is say thank you,” she replied, witty and sharp-tongued even in her exhaustion.
“I would have done it even if you weren’t dating two of my partners,” he replied as he fought back another blush. The only thing that Kaz was able to do was give his hand a squeeze through the thick leather of his gloves, which Wylan was okay with. 
He disappeared up the stairs as exhaustion sunk low into his veins. A lot had happened in one night, but the net effect seemed to be good overall. Nina fit right into their flock like she had been there from the beginning.
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Day In Kindergarten
SUMMARY: Dabi gets dragged along on your subbing job for a kindergarten class; will he, the class, and you be okay?
WORD COUNT: 1.5k
WARNINGS: Boys being boys (but, y'know, in a good/funny/idiotic way (y'all know how boys (especially cis boys) are-)), children being gross (if you get disgusted by mentions of spit, snot, and children being sick, this fic is probably not for you- you've been warned), Dabi feeling insecure, Dabi trying to give you affection in front of children (but like- soft attention, not anything that children shouldn't see-), you threatening Dabi (although it's somewhat playful-), my OCs being turned into a kindergarten class and being chaotic.
A/N: This was so fun to write- what- Anyways, this was for a collab with @yesitsmewhataboutit​ for their Reverse Collab!  A/N: Originally posted here.
© kazumiwrites - All rights reserved; please do not steal, edit, copy, repost (etc) my work without my express permission.
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Dabi blinked, sighing softly as he walked inside the school. Why, exactly, was he, a wanted villain, doing this? What was the point?
He glanced over at you, eyes softening ever so slightly. Yes, he was soft for you... He couldn't help it. He let you do... Pretty much anything. Including getting dragged to an elementary school in the middle of nowhere. Apparently you volunteered there every Thursday when you could to read books and pretty much just take care of the children. Although he loved being with you, being with children was... A nuisance.
He let out a soft huff, wrapping his arms around your waist, and holding you close, nuzzling in to you. He didn't care that there were literal five-year-olds watching, picking their noses or whatever little kids do. Being so close to you made him happy, and that was that.
With a small laugh, you pushed the male off your back. "Touya, no- I know you like cuddles, but not right now. Wait for like... Seven hours. That's around when we'll be done."
Dabi huffed softly with a small pout. Seven hours? He wasn't allowed to shower you with affection for seven hours? Seriously.
He let out a small mumble of assent, nodding slightly before following you to one of the classrooms.
Personally, this particular class was your favorite. They weren't super chaotic, but they weren't dead-quiet either. You hummed softly as you walked in, Dabi trailing after you like a lost puppy.
"Ooh, ooh, is that your boyfriend, [L/N]-sensei?" A little girl stood up, hand raised straight up in the air with a big smile on her face. "I didn't know you were dating any-"
Another kid stood up, half-pushing her away. "Shh- [L/N]-sensei, who's that person?"
"No- you guys need to stop being so-"
"Shut upppp!"
"Shut up's a bad word-"
"It is not-"
"Class. Be quiet." A soft laugh escaped you, smiling softly. "This is Touya. Just call him Touya-sensei, all right?" You hummed softly; you didn't want to think of a last name for Dabi, since if he didn't respond, that would be bad, and anyways, it'd be fine.
Dabi huffed softly before you poked him in the stomach. He glanced over at you before sighing. "Hey. I'm Touya, I guess. And yes, I'm dating [L/N]-sensei." He received a glare from you as whispers spread throughout the class, kids almost jumping from their seats.
"No, Touya. Hush. We weren't supposed to talk about that." You nudged him slightly with a small huff. "Shh, class." You clapped your hands together to try to get their attention, which worked somewhat.
Most of the kids sat back down a few seconds later, allowing you to get on with class. Mostly, you just had to watch over them as they were smart enough to do most things themselves.
Dabi was wandering around a bit, pausing as a girl—the same kid who first asked if he was dating you—tugged on his jacket. He paused slightly, freezing as his jacket slipped away a bit, showing his scars. He bit the inside of his cheek, internally panicking. He shook his head slightly, ignoring the girl and walking back to you, grabbing your hand and half-dragging you out, leaving the class staring at you in confusion.
You paused for a moment, worried as you watched him. "Dabi...? What's wrong?" You asked softly, running a hand through his hair. Your head tilted slightly to the side, your free hand cupping his cheek.
"I just..." He mumbled softly, biting his lip. "I don't think I can do this..."
You sighed a little. "It's okay, Touya, don't worry... The children love you." You blinked as you watched him, uncertain.
"It's- it's not that. I just... You know, my scars..." He said quietly, clearly uncomfortable.
You were surprised, yes, but quickly recovered. "You know I like your scars. The children'll find them fascinating, too. Just, shh..." You pressed a chaste kiss to his lips.
He sighed shakily as he leaned in to your touch, relaxing ever so slightly. His eyes fluttered shut, nodding a little. "Yeah, but... So many people have gotten scared because of them. The youngest person that I talk to lately is Toga, and you know how she is." He paused for a moment. "I just, don't want to terrify them..."
"I know, I know... But they've been through a lot. They had a villain attack on their school, too, so there's that... I think it was because one of the students here was the child of a hero." She paused for a moment. "You better not tell anyone in the League this, I'll hit you if y'all ever get any one of these children hurt." You huffed softly; you didn't really mean it, but you were pretty close to a lot of the kids here. Even though they were young, and sometimes pretty rude (as well as disgusting), they grew on you.
"Yeah, yeah... And, I won't. I don't want to make you angry." Dabi let out a soft chuckle, glancing up at you. "Thanks. That made me feel better." He played with a lock of your hair for a moment before pulling away. "Now, we should go back to the kids, right? Take care of them?"
"You sorta sounded like we were married and looking after our biological kids, while also sounding like you were about to murder them. But, yeah." You hummed softly, grabbing his hand as you walked in.
"See, I told you that they were-"
"Hush, Gin-chan. Sit down."
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The school day was mostly over, you two just had recess to get over with and that would be all.
Overall, the day was going pretty good, the children were behaving... Well, decently.
Up until that point, at least.
You had ran to the bathroom for a bit, leaving Dabi alone to take care of the twenty or so kids in the class. And then it was chaos.
Some of the kids were pulling on his jacket and pants (since he was crouched down to their level), watching him curiously.
"Wow- what're these? Bruises?" A little child asked, his dark blue eyes blinking as he looked at Dabi's arms.
"They're... Scars, I guess. From overusing my Quirk."
"Woah- that can happen?" His eyes were wide.
"Mm, for some people. I think it depends on the quirk, sometimes... But yeah. You need to be careful." He let out a soft sigh.
The kid nodded a little, before grabbing his hand. "You should smileeee-" He said, almost obnoxious.
"Yeah, yeah." He rolled his eyes, cracking a small smile. Just then, he heard a scream, as well as a horrified gasp from you—you were back, finally!
"No- Yuuma, no-" You grabbed the cup away from one of the children. "What is this?"
Yuuma blinked up at you innocently. "A concoction I made!" He seemed really happy when he used such a big word. "It has dirt, leaves, and spit in it!"
You blinked, staring at the child before sighing, turning away and burying your face in Dabi's shoulder. "What should I do with them..."
Dabi laughed softly, rubbing your back. "Shh... It's okay, love." He took the cup from your hands, glancing over at Yuuma, who looked a bit disappointed that his precious concoction was going away. "It's all right—Yuuma, right? It's okay. We can make another concoction; one that won't make [L/N]-sensei here faint." He chuckled softly, throwing the cup away before getting a new one handed to him by you.
"I swear, both of you are going to timeout if I hear anything else gross happening." You sighed softly, shaking your head as you muttered "boys..." under your breath. You loved them, sure, but sometimes you just wanted to smack them all on the head. Lovingly, of course.
You were glad that Dabi and the children were getting along, though. Most of the boys and around a third of the girls were crowded around him. They all thought his quirk was "better than [L/N]-sensei's," apparently, which made you sigh. Children. Always so impressed with the flashy quirks. You weren't jealous. Nope. Not at all.
Anyways, you walked around, tending to the other children, helping them get up. They really were cute, though... You loved all of them a lot.
Soon, the day was over, and it was finally time to go home. After watching over all the children going home, both of you could go home as well. You glanced up at Dabi with a small smile on your face. "See- This wasn't that bad, was it?"
He shrugged slightly. "Yeah, I suppose not. They were pretty nice."
You poked his stomach gently. "Oh, hush, you know you loved it."
"Yeah, yeah." He laughed a little, poking you back. "Now, let's go home; I want to give you a lot of cuddles."
You smiled softly, grabbing his hand and walking. You really couldn't wait to spend the rest of your day with Dabi.
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bretha-stitchwitch · 1 year
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*deep breath*
So, here's the thing.
I used to write like breathing. Like something that both felt utterly natural and utterly necessary to survival.
I announced as a precocious seven year old, when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, that I wanted to be a world-famous author "like Roald Dahl".
(There's an entire digression into how poorly his work has aged and the debatability of his fame, and that's not even touching on the mess that is the current sanitisation of his works and both the erasure of authorial intent and control AND the blatant money-grab by the publishers, not to mention the tone-deafness of the edits AND the fact that an old dead white dude's stuff is getting rehashed instead of highlighting new authors and stories... but that's not what this post is about.)
(This post might be full of similar run-on sentences; I'd apologise, but it'd be an empty gesture given that I'm pretty sure it'll happen again, and saying sorry is meant to mean that you're not going to commit the same act again, and, well... *gestures at this entire parenthetical* we can see how likely that is.)
So yes. At one point, and for a significant portion of my childhood and teen years, I fully intended to make good on that pronouncement. Moreover, I thought it would be easy to do so.
Writing certainly felt easy, and was something I both loved doing and felt compelled to do.
And then it was not.
I've told friends and friendly colleagues who've asked in the past why I stopped, that I am afraid, and could trace that fear back to a single class in university.
It's glib, but not entirely untrue.
It was a Creative Writing class, and we had a guest lecturer - a professional editor from the traditional publishing industry, talking about the realities of said industry and day-to-day work for editors like them.
It was insightful and illuminating, and some of the class left the lecture invigorated and excited to overcome the obstacles to becoming a successfully published author.
But I remember feeling my dreams shrivel and wither, as though they were delicate mosses blasted by sudden heat or sunlight.
Because I was suddenly confronted with the reality that my dream wouldn't be easy and might never come true - and that I would be just one of hundreds of others like me, lost in a crowd, not special or notable.
I had been a big fish in a little pond for so long, writing as easily as breathing, stories bubbling up inside and exciting me as I spilled them out onto the page.
And suddenly I knew that I was no longer that big fish. Suddenly, I knew I would likely face countless rounds of rejection and indifference, even ridicule, for the stories I wanted to tell.
I didn't have sufficient self-esteem or confidence to withstand the imagined scorn. In the span of just 40 minutes, I imagined everything that might be said of my writing, assumed it all to be true and warranted... And just like that, I no longer found writing as easy as breathing, and in fact was struggling to breathe as well.
(All this was probably exacerbated by undiagnosed autism and accompanying rejection sensitivity dysphoria, but since I'm still undiagnosed I can only offer that to my past self as hypothesis rather than known fact.)
I've tried, at various times, to recapture the old joy and excitement of storytelling. TTRPGs have helped - one glorious hybrid LARP with a heavy (and unplanned by the poor STs) online RP component certainly did the most to reignite the passion to write. Between myself and one friend, we wrote over 20,000 words back and forth in the span of 48 hours, which I then took and turned into over 30,000 words of fleshed out description and narrative that still holds up after 5+ years.
But each time, the fear crowds back in, smothering the fires of creativity, suffocating the flow of stories, and I sit there once more, staring at a blank page and gasping.
And I'm tired of letting the fear win.
So I'm going to try something. It'll take time, far longer than any of my childhood writing projects. It may go unfinished for years, possibly unfinished full-stop (though I am certainly going to try my best to finish).
Because for the first time in a long time, I can feel a story bubbling up, itching to be told. Multiple stories in fact, so many little stories woven into a full and whole cloth to become something greater. An anthology stitched together by a meta story behind it.
And all of those stories, instead of shrivelling or withering, seem to be waiting patiently - not delicate mosses, but hardy fungi flourishing secretly in the dark, waiting for a chance to burst forth.
And I'm reminded that the fruiting body of a fungus, marshmallow-soft, can punch through concrete when it finally comes time to sprout forth.
So. I might not breathe stories like air any more... But perhaps I can cultivate them like mushrooms.
This blog is the embodiment of that hope. It's a promise to myself to at least TRY.
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dogmomwrites · 1 year
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15 Questions, OC Edition
This tag came from @saltysupercomputer, so thank you!! I'm gonna pass it on with soft tags to @i-can-even-burn-salad, @on-noon, @menagerie-of-monsters, and @writting-in-blood, as well as keeping it an open tag for anyone who wants to share a little about their OCs!
This tag is for Old Tom from my fantasy series
Are you named after anyone? A folk hero of legend, yes. There are many stories about my namesake—too many to list here—but I've always worn our shared name with pride. The nickname is somewhat newer; I've traveled often, ever since I was old enough to weather the harsh winter outside our mountains on my own, and I quickly accumulated enough stories to leave the elders waiting their turn. A lighthearted comment was made about me being old despite my youth. At least, I hope it was lighthearted. I've never taken it with offense, as I remember being a small kit enraptured by the stories our elders would tell
When was the last time you cried? It has been a little while, now that I think about it. About eight moons, give or take a day or two
Do you have kids? Yes, I do! I'm the proudest father of seven beautiful children. Yes, seven is a rather large number, but it's very common for us cats to have more children than humans. My number is actually below the average
Do you use sarcasm a lot? I use sarcasm when I feel it's called for, which is wholly dependent on my current company
What’s the first thing you notice about people? Forgive me for my simpleness, but I tend to notice their species first and foremost
What’s your eye color? A very pale blue, like ice glazed over the mountainside
Scary movies or happy endings? I'm a fan of most any story, so please don't push for me to pick between the two. They both have their merits
Any special talents? I know every book in my library and can locate whichever someone is looking for no matter how weak their description of it is. I take great pride in that
Where were you born? In the nursery of our mountain home. My littermates and I were born in a cozy nest with our excited yet apprehensive father looking on and on the other side of the door, a horde of uncles, aunts, and cousins waiting to meet us. A new litter is always a cause of excitement and celebration for us
What are your hobbies? Oh, I do keep myself busy. You name it, chances are high that I've tried my paw at it
Have you any pets? When I was a very young kit, I sneaked out of the nursery and found a funny-looking animal swimming in a pool. I was so delighted by its ugliness that I spent hours playing with it, though I didn't dare step any further than the shallows. Imagine my surprise after I was found, brought home, scolded by both worried parents, and then finally told of where I'd been, only to be informed that my new pet was called a fish. And we ate them. It was a day to remember, that's for sure
What sports do you play/have played? As I mentioned before, I've tried my paw at every game I've come across. Not many human games are very cat-friendly, although I've found I can hold my own with a little practice
How tall are you? I stand sixteen inches at the shoulder
Favorite subject in school? Hunting! I always loved when our teachers would take us out into the caves and show us how to stalk, pounce, and track our prey. I was a very dutiful student and would practice my pouncing on my littermates as soon as we returned home from classes!
Dream job? I already have that, I'm pleased to say. I'm the librarian. They call me the wandering librarian, as I'm prone to bouts of wanderlust, but I've trained my assistants well, and the library runs quite well when I'm not there
The empty question template is under this cut!
Are you named after anyone?
When was the last time you cried?
Do you have kids?
Do you use sarcasm a lot?
What’s the first thing you notice about people?
What’s your eye color?
Scary movies or happy endings?
Any special talents?
Where were you born?
What are your hobbies?
Have you any pets?
What sports do you play/have played?
How tall are you?
Favorite subject in school?
Dream job?
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yourcasualchaos · 2 years
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(Sooooooooooooooooo, I needed some disabled Tommy, like, maybe in a wheelchair or smth, so I wrote it, take it or leave it, I do not care.)
Tommy hated going to school. The difficulty of maneuvering his wheelchair through doors annoyed him, he was shoved and knocked over a lot, and bullied several times. But he kept going to school. Honestly, with dead parents and a disability with far too weak legs to support his weight, he was tall enough at least to say he was eighteen so he could live in his cheep apartment. Not like his height could be measured.
And then the rumours began.
Apparently some smanchy fancy family had its two children move to Tommy's highschool.
Yay.
Actually no, scratch that, Ew.
Even more odd, both were in almost all of Tommy's classes.
The day they came in, Tommy was at his desk, editing an essay whilst waiting for homeroom to end. He heard the door open, and everyone fell silent. He glanced up, confused. His hands paused on the keyboard, he leaned over a bit to see past the kid in front of him.
His jaw dropped.
Two students stood at the front. Fairly tall, maybe 6'5", Tommy couldn't tell. One had long, pink hair done in a braid, and the other had short brown and wavy hair covering half his face. Both began to introduce theirselves.
"Hullo! My name is Wilbur Soot Minecraft, this is my brother, aka twin, Techno Blade Minecraft, and we're hoping we'll like it here!" The one with short brown hair, Wilbur, said. Tommy sighed, and moved back to his essay. Clearly, they would just stare at him when he moved to leave in a little bit. He began to type again until the bell rang. Shoving his laptop in his bag, he went to wheel himself out, before being shoved to the floor. He toppled out of his wheelchair and landed face first on the floor.
"Haha, good luck getting up! Wheel Boy!" The people laughed and rushed out the door. The teacher had already left.
Tommy laid there for a few moments, realizing his nose was bleeding from the impact. He decided to just lay there, when he heard the wheelchair uprighted, and felt someone pick him up, helping him back in.
"Those boys and girls seemed quite awful, didn't they?" Wilbur muttered, handing Tommy's bag to him. He turned to the boy. "You really shouldn't let them bully you like that." He pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the blood from Tommy's nose. Tommy took his bag, muttered a thank you, and wheeled himself out of the room.
●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●
Tommy sighed, wheeling himself across the sidewalk, his bag on his lap. He felt tired. After a few more shoves, the pain of a punch in his face, and a bruised cheek, he looked up as he recognized the area he was in. He immediately sped up and made his way to his favorite bakery.
The telltale ring of the bell echoed through the bakery. It was pretty empty, well, it was a Monday after all. Niki stood at the counter, focused on the tip jar. She looked up at the bell, and her face lit up.
"Tommy! Glad to know you stopped by! Did you need anything? Coffee? Bread? I made some coffee bread recently..." She trailed off, awaiting an answer.
"I will take that coffee bread, thank you." Tommy wheeled up to the counter, pulling out his wallet and counting up the dollar bills. $23 bucks. He had to pay Niki and Jack extra.
"Tommy, you don't have to pay..." Niki muttered, his eyes filling with concern. Tommy shook his head.
"No, no, Niki, it's fine! I'm being paid very well." That was a lie. Tommy was only paid 8 bucks an hour. And he worked only seven hours shifts at his night job. As he and Niki argued, the bell rang again, causing them both to turn. Tommy immediately hid his face.
The boy's from school were there, Wilbur and Techno. Tommy shoved the cash in Niki's hands. He finished their conversation quickly, but before he could leave-
"Hey! You!" Wilbur exclaimed, rushing over. Techno followed, walking over behind him.
"Yeah, me?" Tommy responded, nervous.
"I wanna say, if you ever need help, I wanted to give you this!" Wilbur held oUT a sheet of paper with four phone numbers on it. Each were labeled. One was Wilbur's, the second Techno's, the third, Philza's, whoever that was. Maybe their dad. And a four one labeled Kristen's. Maybe their mother.
"In case you ever get stuck, just call one of us!" Wilbur grinned. Tommy muttered another quick thank you, and rushed out.
He had a feeling that wasn't the last time they interact.
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zydrateacademy · 10 months
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Current Activities in Baldur's Gate #2
The game CTD'd so here I am talking about it.
As promised I was going to outline my experiences a bit more specifically.
Well currently, I have 92 hours on it and every minute of that has been spent in act 1. Only just now is my warlock about to go through the mountain pass, before getting distracted by yet another quest to save a duke. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
On the evening of release I of course rolled Dib, a dragonborn rogue, very quickly followed by my scant-clad warlock. Over time I found the rogue to be rather clunky. It's difficult to get mid-combat sneak checks when there's five goblins and two wargs looking straight at the party. Her stealth is very high but the chances to actually pass a hide check against seven mobs is very low, so it's more of a boss-killer than anything. Sneak attacks don't work like on tabletop, when an enemy has to simply be engaged with another target within five meters... But in the game you can ONLY get sneak attacks if you have advantage on the attack. I spent so much time slinging various disabling spells but you only get advantage on attacks under very specific conditions and I haven't nailed them all down. I know being prone is one of them. After falling out of love of rogue I went on to roll basically one of each class with some exceptions. I have no real interest in the sorcerer, paladin, cleric, druid, or ranger. Wizard is growing on me, notably the divination spec. I discovered that a few characters in with Gale. He can basically force rerolls on enemies, silence areas, and counter-spell. He's become a permanent fixture in most party compositions, so I might roll one for myself some day. Sorcerer to me just seems like a less interesting wizard.
I might make a ranger some day.
I've enjoyed the rest of the classes to various degrees. I'm even directly playing Karlach in one of my save files, because barbarian is fun. Big weapon go smash.
However I absolutely adore the warlock, but not overly fond of their limited spell slots. They can only pop off two big spells per combat encounter. As "eh" as that is to me, it's rarely been a problem. It can be recharged on short rests, but it's still irritating when you pop off a large spell that gets resisted or something. That said, eldritch blast is hilarious, does competitive damage, and can hit multiple targets. I can't wait to get to 10 so it can hit a third bolt.
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I tagged this post as mature so I can post these now.
I'm dreading finding actual gear upgrades so she'll eventually lose this 'look', and I don't think they'll ever introduce a transmog system because they didn't in DoS2. But once she's done saving the duke, she'll be moving onto act 2 properly. Edit: I did not know the Duke was in act 2 to begin with.
Right now her setup is herself and gale on the backline while Lae'zel and Karlach both wade into the fray. Personality wise Selina is kind of an asshole but still a bit of a hedonist. To fuel a hedonist lifestyle she needs money. People give you money when you do things for them, and sometimes she'll extort and take it. So her altruism despite the dialog options is still a bit self-serving. And since Karlach isn't as goody two shoes as Shadowheart, the relationship meters with both are still creeping upwards. Karlach likes shows of strength which my warlock does sometimes, but just isn't as anti-everything as Shadowheart is.
Shadowheart is weird, man. Talks up altruism but worships a god that wants to end the world. Cool.
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celestial-angelina · 2 years
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Old Inspiration for a New Day (Chapter One of [Friend or Faux?])
Rating: PG
Mentioning of: Potentially hurt/d3ad, potentially in d4nger
Genre: Fantasy
Word Count: 1419
(EDIT: This isn't fully finished yet. This is just an excerpt. Final draft coming soon.)
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I'm Persis Thomas, an American-Greek novelist who has a unique way of mixing reality and fantasy together. I am a twenty-two year old female who is on the shorter, leaner side. I spend most of my time alone, or with close friends or close relatives. It's hard for others to understand me, since I find inspiration everywhere. Sometimes it's the smallest things, like a delicate dandelion's seeds spreading across someone's front lawn. Other times, my inspiration comes from a broad subject, like a television show or a concert. Whatever it is, I always make sure to write it down in my Inspiration Journal I bring with me everywhere. Some things are just too good to forget.
I've been an imaginative person since I was little. I always had many imaginary friends that I wouldn't leave the house without. There has been one, however, that I was closest to.
His name was Nikita, and he was a few years older than me. He was way taller than me, as well. He was a beautiful angel, literally. His silken white hair matched his large, snowy angel wings that were as soft as a kitten's fur. In my perspective, he had a left iris the color of a golden ring and a right iris of a sapphire gem. He was quite pale, his skin like that of a ghost. However, in the sunlight, his skin shone like millions of tiny gems.
Nikita was the person that inspired me to write in the first place. I've always been interested in other worlds and other species, and to see one up close interested me. The moment after I met him, I started writing stories to share with my family. They were mostly about angels and demons, inspired from Nikita's tales about his family and his friends. When I shared my first work, my family cheered and applauded, telling me that I could become famous one day with my work. It was then that I realized that I wanted to be famous for writing the best fantasy novels.
At age seven was when my family told me I should start straying away from imaginary friends. I was going to be a second year at Grand Ridge School that year, and my mother was worried that I wouldn't make any "real friends." I protested that my imaginary friends were real, and that she was just jealous. She didn't budge, though, no matter how many times I told her that she was being unreasonable. After an hour of arguing, I gave up and went to my imaginary friends. I was sad to see my other ones leave, but it hurt my heart the most to see Nikita leave. He promised me that he would come back soon, that he would prove to everyone in my house that he was real. He also said one thing that has stuck to me to this day.
"So long as you believe in me, so long as you believe in any angel, I will come back in a few years. Just be patient." He let me hug him before he teleported back to his home, waving before he stepped into the portal.
Just a few days later, Mother sent me to apply for a writer's program. The person who interviewed me told my mother and I that I was very talented for my age. She said that there were adults that couldn't do school as well as me. As soon as my mother heard that, she sent me to a college campus. I would take advanced English classes and even have a dorm, though I wouldn't sleep near the college students. The high school students - and me, too - were put in separate dorms so they could keep track of us. We still took the same classes as the college students, though, just at different times.
After a few years of that, I graduated college. I was twelve years old. It was weird standing next to everyone at the ceremony. Even most of the high school students were taller than me. I was happy to take my diploma. I would still have to wait until I was sixteen to get a full career in writing, but I could still at least publish my books and sell them for money.
After the trouble of picking my pen name - which is Hazel Dusk, if you were wondering - my career hit off quickly. I was constantly sent money for my work, and I was even paid more for some of my revised short stories from long ago to be put in the newspaper. It was almost surreal to have my works sell so quickly. It was also unbelievable when I went to meet and greets and other places to show off my work. There was only one thing on my mid, however, whenever I stepped up to the podium.
Nikita.
He was the one to inspire me to continue my works. I knew that he wanted me to continue his works in my own way, and I could practically see him smiling as I grew more and more popular. I never told anyone that it was Nikita who inspired me, though. People would think I'm crazy if I told them that an imaginary friend was the person who kept me going for all this time.
By the time I was eighteen, I was slowly losing hope that Nikita would return. I kept making excuses to myself. Maybe he's busy. Maybe something happened recently and he's trying to get over it. Maybe I'm just going crazy expecting an angel to walk up to my doorstep.
I decided I was really crazy when I heard my doorbell ring the other day, seeing Nikita on the other side of the doorway when I opened the door.
"Nikita?" I whispered, looking around to see if anyone was there. Thankfully, no one was there to witness me talking to nothing. "What are you doing here?" I asked, looking back at him.
"Isn't it obvious? I've came back to guard you again," Nikita answered in a duh tone. "May I come in?"
I let him in and closed the door quickly. I led him to the dining room and pulled out a chair. As he sat down, I sat down myself. "Why now? Why not sooner?" I asked.
He shrugged. "You didn't need to be guarded sooner. Besides, I can't just visit a human at a random time. I need to be assigned a task to protect you."
"So you have many humans you guard?" I asked.
"Quite a few, but you're one of my five main charges. That's not important, though. What's important is that you're in danger."
"Danger?" Many things came in my mind. Perhaps it was just an illness and he's overreacting. Perhaps I'll get kidnapped or hunted down by some serial killer, and he's under-reacting (yes, that's a real word). Whatever it is, he seems serious, so I'll play along. "What's so dangerous that you'd have to warn me about it?"
"Your planet, Earth, is in imminent danger. A species of what you call 'aliens' are planning to take over the planet. They studied the human race and concluded that you humans aren't an intelligent species."
"We aren't? But we're one of the smartest species on our planet!"
"Not smart enough, apparently. It's most likely your government systems, I think. They're messy and many wars have taken place if we think about just a few hundred years to this day. Say, aren't you in a war right now?"
"The Cyber War, yes. A few AI robots have gone rogue and are trying to take over Earth."
"See? If the aliens don't destroy you, the robots will."
"Will you relax, Nikita? The war isn't even happening in this country. I'll be fine." I stood up. "Do you want tea or anything. I've got-" Nikita grabbed my arm, forcing me back in my chair.
"Look, just listen to me, Persis. You're my charge. I can not let you get hurt. I must protect you."
I stood up again, now annoyed. "Look, don't angels create miracles and grant wishes?" Before he could form an answer, I continued. "Well, my wish is for you to lay off. I can't hang around you all the time anymore. I'm grown up. I have a life now. Can't you just find another person that wants to be your friend?" I didn't bother to see his hurt expression as I stormed off into the kitchen.
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taexual · 5 years
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HOLIC - 42 | jb x reader
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gif cred. layallyourloveonxing
pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader
genre: enemies to lovers au | roommate au
warnings: a quick lil break from angst, so this is just suggestive fluff basically
words: 3.5k
           prev / next
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“Today’s the day,” was the first thing out of Jaebum’s mouth on Monday morning when the two of you found yourselves in your kitchen, preparing to have your—already traditional—bowls of cereal for breakfast before he headed off to work and you went back to your bedroom – that had become a torture chamber, really, since you hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in what felt like a century.
For a moment, you weren’t sure what he was talking about but, after noticing the empty gym bag he’d tossed by the kitchen island and the dressy, collared shirt he was wearing, you remembered.
“Oh, your last day,” you sighed wistfully – he did not; he was more excited to move on than to reminisce. “Are you nervous about leaving the radio station?”
You knew he was – he told you so right after he’d gathered enough courage to let his boss know that he was leaving his position at the radio to pursue singing – but asking seemed fair, especially since Jaebum looked unusually chirpy.
“A little,” he admitted. “But it’s the good kind of nervous. The kind that gets your adrenaline pumping. I’m scared of what I’ll do if this doesn’t work out, of course—”
“It’s okay, I’ll raise your allowance if that happens,” you joked.
He just gave you a look, ignoring what you’ve said, and continued, “—but I’m also excited to leave that place and finally start doing something I’ve always dreamed of doing. Maybe I’ll have a breakdown over this later, not sure. It hasn’t really sunk in yet.”
“Yeah, that’s probably normal,” you nodded, taking a moment to finish chewing the crunchy corn flakes before adding, “will you be celebrating?”
“I wasn’t going to,” Jaebum said, pouring milk – that you’d left on the counter for him – over his cereal and taking his usual spot across the kitchen island from you, “but then I told Mark I was quitting my job to focus on singing,” he paused and then, out of fear of sounding overly pretentious, added, “or whatever. And, well, he wasn’t hearing it. So, long story short, we’re going to get drunk at his bar later tonight. Don’t make other plans.”
Normally, you’d have jumped at the chance to get drunk and have fun – even if it was on a Monday night, also known as, the Night Before a Yet Another Dreadful Tuesday at Your Gallery – and hanging out with Mark was always a blast. But this time you recalled the last conversation you’ve had with him – and then, consequently, realized that Mark knew about Jiho while Jaebum did not know exactly – and you found yourself fearing the night at the bar more than you feared the inevitable encounter with Jiho at your gallery tomorrow.
“Tonight? On Monday?” you asked, your question surprising him. “Unlike some people, I have work tomorrow.”
“In all the months that we’ve lived together,” Jaebum began after dramatically—and loudly—putting his spoon down, a very disappointed expression on his face, “you have never refused to get drunk with me on a weekday. Even if there wasn’t an actual occasion.”
You sighed because he was, of course, absolutely right – you’ve gotten drunk with him despite what the calendar showed – but also because you did not want to skip this night—especially since it was meaningful to Jaebum—and yet, you couldn’t help but still try to find a way out of this.
“Can I just congratulate you at home?” you asked even though you knew what his answer was going to be. “I promise it’ll be just as special.”
Trying not to get swayed by the offer – guessing what his soft spots were wasn’t difficult and Jaebum momentarily hated himself for having such a weak will when it came to you and all the potential ways in which you could have congratulated him here – he persisted.
“How about later, once we’re back from Mark’s?” he said. “I’ll see you at seven before it gets too crowded—”
“It’s Monday, Jaebum.”
“—and then—okay, wait, have you never been to a bar on a Monday night? You’re in for a surprise. You don’t know what Mondays do to people,” he countered. “Anyway. We’ll bail in an hour and then I’ll take up on your offer to congratulate me away from everyone else. How does that sound?”
“It sounds like not at all what I was suggesting.”
Jaebum tsk-tsked at this, continuing with his tongue in cheek, “I cannot believe I mean so little to you that you’re willing to skip my party just because it’s—”
“Oh no, don’t do that,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “You know that’s not what I was trying to say.”
“Oh, do I?” he raised his eyebrows, a ridiculously offended expression on his face – if singing wouldn’t work out, he should give acting a chance. “All I know is that you’re saying no to me even though you know how special this day is for me, I—”
“Jaebum—”
“But it’s fine if you don’t care about me,” he turned around on his chair, purposefully eating cereal with his back turned to you.
“It’s astounding,” you said, your voice louder, “how big of a child you are. I swear no one would believe me if I told them.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said and then, after he finished chewing, added with a quick look at you over his shoulder, “but that is very offensive. It’s like you’re kicking me while I’m already down.”
Even though you did feel a little like hurling your bowl of cereal at him, eventually, the small pout on his lips – that he would never admit to having – as he continued to look at you over his shoulder, and the expectant gaze of his eyes played on your heartstrings a little too hard and you couldn't help giving in.
“Fine,” you said. “But we really are leaving after an hour.”
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You realized that one hour was not going to be how long you stayed here at all because, as soon as you and Jaebum arrived, every single one of his friends was suddenly all over the two of you. Before you even got to the bar, almost all of them had already stopped to give you a quick hug and pat him on the back, mentions of how proud they were spilling from their lips. You’d already learned that his friends were surprisingly easy-going but you’ve never seen them drunk like this—at 7 PM on a Monday, no less—and, as they progressively consumed more alcohol – Mark’s bar was never going to go bankrupt as long as he remained friends with Jaebum – they only seemed to grow friendlier.
You weren’t actually sure if Jaebum was friends with half of the city or if Mark had just invited every alcoholic in the vicinity to congratulate Jaebum tonight, but the place was crowded and nearly everyone stopped by you to say hi as they circled the club, drink after drink in their hands . Even the dancefloor at the back of the bar that you’ve yet to see in use was full of people throwing their hands in the air to a dance mix that was playing on the speakers.
“I’ve had so many drunk people breathe on me,” you spoke once you and Jaebum finally managed to reach the bar and he had helped you climb on the sole empty stool in a very gentlemanly gesture, “that I already feel drunk.”
“Yeah, my friends go all out. It’s why I love them so much,” Jaebum laughed, settling down next to you, one of his hands resting on the small of your back. “You smiled, though. Several times, too. That’s more times than I’ve got to see you smile at home.”
Your stomach sunk at this and you found yourself clearing your throat uncomfortably. “That’s not true. There’s just been a lot on my mind lately, I’ve already told you.”
He waved his hands dismissively before turning around to look for Mark – who was, for once, actively doing his job instead of chatting with you two – and then announcing cheerfully, “and that is why you’re getting drunk and not talking about anything that stresses you out. It’s just drinks and no talk tonight. Okay?”
“Ah,” you felt yourself smile, “it’s so nice of you to make it sound like I have a choice.”
“Hm, what can I say?” Jaebum played along, his free hand sneaking around your middle until he had wrapped his arms around your waist. “I’m always pleasing others.”
You raised your eyebrows, countering with a playful smile that matched his, “how many others have you pleased in your life?”
“Uh, who cares?” he replied in a purposefully deep voice that was supposed to mock every guy ever and then nearly broke character when he heard you laugh, “you’re the only one that matters.”
“Great line,” you said. “A bit overused but you can’t go wrong with a classic.”
“I’ve got some better ones up my sleeve,” he wiggled his eyebrows for more effect, “but I need, at least, three shots before I can say them without wanting to swallow a bag of soap.”
“Now that has my interest,” you turned to give Mark a wave as a way to catch his attention, “we need six shots here as soon as possible!”
Jaebum frowned just as Mark nodded with a laugh and got the shot glasses from under the bar, heading towards you two. “Wait, six?”
“Of course,” you said. “If I’m going to have to sit here and listen to your pick-up lines, I need to be drunk, too.”
“Good to see you both,” Mark spoke, fist-bumping Jaebum and giving you a clumsy half-hug over the bar. “I’ve got to tell you, though, you two are way past pick-up lines already.”
“Oh, you haven’t heard?” Jaebum joked. “We’re actually doing everything backwards. Yeah, once we’ll reach the one-year mark, we’ll go on our first date.”
Mark laughed and you were going to as well but the mention of the “one-year mark” suddenly expanded the cavity of your chest so much, all you could do was just grip the bartop tighter so you wouldn’t fall off the stool from all the beats your heart had just skipped – not that falling was possible with Jaebum’s arms around you but still. This was the first time he had openly talked about the future of your relationship – and so easily, too – so you didn’t really blame your heart for already overworking itself ten minutes into your night-out.
“Not sure how that works,” Mark replied, getting the bottle of vodka from the shelf of drinks behind him and then – in a way that was meant to show off and nothing more – pouring it into all six of the shot glasses in one fluid motion, not a single drop spilled. “But, I guess, sometimes, I’m not sure how you two work, either, so maybe it all makes sense in a completely nonsensical sort of way.”
“Oh, profound,” you said. “I already can’t tell if that was a compliment or not and I haven’t even had a single drink yet.”
“I work at a bar, honey,” Mark said, picking up a towel he’d left on the bartop a few feet away and throwing it over his shoulder with a dramatic flair. “Everything I say here is a compliment.”
He walked away to serve the other customers before you could reply. When you turned your surprised—and impressed—expression to Jaebum, he was shaking his head.
“Pretty sure Mark just told me he’s not actually my friend and it’s just been customer service all along,” you said.
Jaebum laughed. “I’m almost positive it’s one of those days when Mark warmed up a little before coming to work.”
It took you a moment to understand what he was hinting at but – one shot later – you glanced back at Mark, your eyes wide.
“Can he drink on the job?” you asked – pointlessly because he had already revealed, on your very first meeting, that he “tried” not to drink on the job – and then shook your head. “No, nevermind. I get it. I’d drink on the job, too, if I had the opportunity.”
“Hey, what did I say?” Jaebum said unexpectedly loudly. “No talking about stressful things. It’s not that kind of night.”
You turned back to look at him. “Shit, sorry, that’s right. What kind of night would you say this is, then? Will I finally get to see your best moves on the dancefloor?”
“Oh, who knows,” he teased, finishing another shot and then glancing around the bar. “I do know how to drop it low, so why not show it?”
You clapped your hands giddily – courtesy of the intoxicating scent of Jaebum’s cologne – and then laughed a lot louder than you normally would – courtesy of the second shot of vodka you’d just had. “Please do! I don’t know what brought this change in your attitude upon but I am loving it.”
“Well, it’s a special night,” he said. “And Jackson’s not here to film me and tease me for the rest of my life, so why the hell not.”
You had just picked up the final shot when you paused. “Jackson’s not here? How come?”
“He’s out of town doing something for his family—oh, hey, actually, it’s probably photography-related,” Jaebum answered, following suit and picking up his last shot glass as well. “But I didn’t ask, I’m sorry. I was kind of more focused on myself. And I acknowledge how selfish that sounds.”
“No, it’s perfectly understandable,” you said, finishing your drink in one quick gulp – and only frowning at the taste for no more than a second – and clumsily jumping off the bar stool.
“Whoa, careful,” he warned, coughing as he tried to steady you on your feet at the same time as he was doing his own shot.
But you weren’t worried about being careful as you reached for one of his hands on your waist, intertwining your fingers instead, and then exclaimed, “let’s go!”
He raised his eyebrows. “Go? We’re not supposed to leave for—”
“To hell with leaving,” you said, “we need to get you on that dancefloor so I can see what I’ve been missing.”
“Oh,” he laughed, the faint intoxication making you both feel so excited, it was almost silly. “You haven’t really missed anything, I’m pretty sure I’ve already shown you what my hips can do.”
You blinked your eyes, his words taking you off guard, and then punched him right on the shoulder.
“Hey! Keep it PG, would you?” you said, the tone of your voice about as laid-back as it could be to let him know exactly how serious you were. “We’re in a public place.”
“I’m just saying!” he tossed back, allowing you to guide him deeper into the crowd of people that had gathered in the middle of the bar.
Not all of them were dancing per se, most of them were too drunk already, so they were just responding to the loud music by swaying their bodies around in a good old dance move that you were sure was called “tall grass in the wind.” The only people actually actively jumping around and laughing were all Jaebum’s friends, so the two of you were pulled right in until you were suddenly in the very epicenter of the crowd.
“One day,” you said to Jaebum as his hands found their way back to your waist. He didn’t seem to hear you – his friends weren’t just dancing, they were screaming along to the lyrics – so you repeated yourself louder, “one day it’ll be your song playing here. I hope we’ll still be here to hear it.”
You didn’t know why you said it like that but Jaebum – although already feeling his restraints loosen as his body welcomed the alcohol – frowned in confusion. He hadn’t expected you to show any insecurity about the future of your relationship – and, actually, you hadn’t, either – especially not when everything seemed to be going so well.
“Of course,” Jaebum said, each word radiating confidence. “Why wouldn’t we be?”
“Well, you know,” you said, trying to laugh it off even though it was obvious that some part of your subconscious was very much insecure about you and him despite the alcohol you’ve already consumed, and despite having heard Jaebum talk about your “one-year mark” mere minutes ago. “Things happen. People change.”
“That makes it sound like you’re about to break up with me,” he said. “And, if I were you, I’d really reconsider. We still have around nine months left on the lease.”
You chuckled with a shake of your head. “Why would I do that? I’ve worked so hard to get rid of your ex-girlfriend. I don’t want to become one myself.”
You didn’t realize it then – your mind was too preoccupied with the smell of his cologne, the feeling of his hands sliding down to your hips, and the sound of utter joy coming from his friend’s mouths as they had the time of their lives, dancing around you – but this was the first time Jaebum didn’t freeze at the mention of Suji.
“What’s the matter, then?” he asked instead. “Where are these doubts coming from?”
“There are no doubts,” you replied. “I’m just saying. I want to be here, listening to your music with you.”
“Okay, let me one-up you,” he said. “I know you’ll be here, listening to my music with me. And, hey, maybe we won’t have to wait for that anniversary to go on an actual date. Maybe I’ll take you out on the day I release an album.”
You liked the confident way he talked about this. You liked the way he didn’t give in to his doubts by adding an “if that ever happens” at the end of his last sentence. And you liked the way he seemed to keep thinking about taking you out on a proper date the whole night tonight.
“I’d like that,” you said, the alcohol in your veins sending electric sparks throughout your body and mind. “Don’t get me flowers, though. I never know how to look after them.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” he replied. “I’ll look after them.”
Both of you laughed, the happiness on your faces mirroring each other. The sheer simplicity of the situation you were in – no Jiho, no exhibition, no worries – made you feel all the more infatuated with him, so, powered by the liquid courage provided by Mark at the bar, you suddenly leaned in to press a kiss to his lips and felt his hands grip your hips tighter.
“Here’s an idea,” Jaebum said when you pulled away a moment later, his eyes still on your lips. “How about we bail out of here early?”
You laughed again. “Oh, no, you said an hour. We haven’t been here that long.”
“I just wanted to get you out of the house,” he admitted. “You looked like you could use some fun. But now I’m thinking I may have overestimated my own ability to stay away from you. I think we can have a lot more fun by ourselves.”
Drunk Jaebum was another one of your favorite versions of him and you couldn’t help chuckling as you allowed him to pull you closer until you two turned into one, slightly ill-balanced, body of motion. Neither of you bothered to keep up with the rhythm of the song that was playing as you moved in perfect sync with each other but in a completely haphazard way to all on-lookers. Not that you cared about anyone else in that moment.
“I always have fun with you,” you whispered into his ear. “And I’m sorry I’ve made you worry by looking all dead inside for the past few days.”
“It’s okay,” his hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as he responded to you. “I just wanted to make you smile.”
“You should focus on celebrating,” you said then, pulling away slightly to give him a smile.
“I am,” he replied, his grip on your waist tightening again as he refused to allow you to pull away further.
You smiled at this, no words necessary, and the two of you returned to your own world where no stressful tomorrows existed and your lives were stuck in the happiness of this moment. You were almost delirious, honestly, but like most people who have gone insane, you weren’t able to recognize that this was only temporary. That this wasn’t real. That, soon enough, his arms would let go of you and reality would crash down all around you.
But, lost in the thrill of the moment, all rational thought abandoned, you didn’t think any other reality existed. Just this one, where you and him were dancing together—very literally—to the beat of your hearts beating as one.
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cursivetalk · 3 years
Text
Hug Me
Emerson Barrett X F!Reader
Word Count: 1.6k
Summary: it's just a really weird day, feeling wise. Your patience for people is worn thin from the moment you woke up but luckily you have a sweet guardian angel in form of your boyfriend Emerson who knows how to cheer you up.
A/N: can you tell that I like comforting stuff? There's more of this in my head haha. Also, it kinda feels like there could be a part two (I'm willing to try writing smut if someone would want to see it....)
Edit: seven hours later I realized that I forgot a title, whoops
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Today was one of those days were moving out of bed was nearly impossible. When my alarm started to ring, I wanted to curl up and cry. But there were classes to attend and friends to meet and smiles to fake.
So I got up, if much slower than usually. Mom damn near screamed at me as I came into the kitchen, twenty minutes late, only in a hoodie and jeans, no make up or any other justification for me to take so long. Luckily, she also seemed to use her spidey mom senses and refrained from shouting after seeing my expression. She simply handed me the to go cup of coffee and patted my head in passing.
That earned her the first smile of the day. A weak one but a smile was a smile.
The bus drive though was a nightmare. People were everywhere, inevitably touching me as I squished in between them as well. I hated when strangers were this close to me but I couldn't do anything about it at the moment.
"Hey Y/N!" Hanna greeted me enthusiastically and pulled me towards her seat, "how are you?"
I shrugged, not ready for elaborate conversations yet. "Eh."
"Same girl, same," my friend nodded solemnly as if I just revealed the mysteries of the universe to her.
Just as I was about to let the tension drop from my shoulders, she spoke again. "My boyfriend's been so distant lately. You think he's cheating on me with Claire? I mean, he didn't kiss me goodbye yesterday and that's clearly a sign, right?"
Oh, Hanna and Ben. They've been together for almost two years now and still every other week there seemed to be a problem. And Hanna liked to tell me about them in detail whether I wanted her to or not.
Again, I shrugged which evidently was the wrong reaction. Hanna's face fell and I could see tears forming in her eyes. "So you think Ben's cheating on me? Did Claire say something to you?"
"No, she didn't," I was too tired to elaborate, too guilty for not helping, too much in my own head to be useful.
Stupid stupid stupid! Hanna was my friend. I needed to comfort her.
In an effort to smooth out the potential mistake I just made and to ease my guilt, I put my arm around her shoulder. "Ben would never cheat on you."
"You think so?" Hanna sniffled and rubbed her head on my shoulder.
It took everything in me to not push her away again. I wanted to be left alone, I didn't want anyone to touch me. But I couldn't just say that, right? Hanna needed me, my stupid antics weren't important.
The bus came to a stop right in front of our school and saved me from answering. We went into the building silently, Hanna drying her eyes and me watching her out of the corner of my eye. At our lockers leaned Ben himself, one shoulder lazily against Hanna's.
"Nice to see ya, babe," he greeted my friend and went for a kiss.
I turned to my own locker, glad to have a distraction. With my physics book clutched under one arm, I went to my first class.
Remington was waiting for me at our usual table, a smile on his face and his note book in front of him. "Good morning Y/N."
"Morning," I mumbled as I slumped down on the empty chair.
My head dropped to the table a second after I had sat down. Remington winced in what was probably shared pain but otherwise refrained from further engaging in conversation. I was eternally thankful for this, especially as I knew how much he liked to talk.
I went on with my day in a haze-like state. I smiled and talked when I was talked to but I really just wanted to curl up and cry. There was no particular reason for that other than the fact that my stupid head decided that today was a bad day. The only person I wanted to see was Emerson. He surely would be able to clear the fog up in my brain.
And finally, during lunch break, my wish was fulfilled. The boy with his adorable pirate hat was leaning on the wall opposite to my last classroom as I came out of it.
My boyfriend looked up just as I closed the door behind me and frowned. "So Remington was right."
"Huh?" I made intelligently. What was that supposed to mean?
Instead of answering my implied question, he took the backpack from my shoulder, slung it over his own and then offered me his hand. I had not quite enough energy to protest but that didn't stop me from looking at it suspiciously. "What am I getting into?"
"A place without people," Emerson said, one corner of his mouth turning up in a half smile.
That boy knew me too well. No people? Emerson alone for me while he was playing gentleman? Sign me the fuck up.
I grabbed his hand and let him guide me outside of the building and towards the little forest behind it. We walked a good five minutes until we reached a spot of grass and nothing more. There, Emerson pulled out a blanket from his own bag and put it on the ground. Jokingly, he tipped the rim of his head and made a little bow. "M'lady"
"You're cheesy," I stated with the second real smile of the day. But I sat down nevertheless. One simply did not give up an impromptu picnic with your boyfriend.
Emerson just laughed and took a seat next to me. "And you love it."
I couldn't deny that so I didn't try to. Plus that would have meant brain-mouth coordination and staying quiet was so much easier.
For a while, we just sat in silence. We both had taken out our lunches and ate them all while sharing the occasional nod, knees knocking together or in Emerson's case a grimace to make me laugh. It worked once or twice.
Eventually though, my boyfriend broke the silence. "Remington said you looked sad when you came to first period. Wanna tell me what happened?"
"Nothing," I sighed and pulled my knees up to my body. I rested my arms on top of them as I avoided Emerson's eyes, "I felt weird all of today. People are exhausting and I want to be alone."
Emerson nodded in acknowledgement and kept quiet for a moment, presumably thinking of what to do next. "I could get you home and tell Mrs Dodds that you didn't feel good. She'll get it. Or you go by yourself if I'm too much already."
"No you're okay," I assured him with a little joking shove. To be honest, he was the only person I wanted to be around right now. Though going home didn't sound too bad...
Emerson chuckled at my words but I could see how much they meant to him. "We can take Remington's car. I'll just text him that he excuses us."
And with that, we packed up our things again and went to my house. We didn't talk on the drive, Emerson simply put on some quiet music and hummed along. His voice caught once or twice in his throat which gave him room to shoot an assuring smile my direction and squeeze my knee. I revelled in the warmth of Emerson's touch and relaxed into the seat. Back home, I made a beeline for my bed and just dropped my bag next to it before I fell down on the mattress. Face first.
After I had gotten comfortable, I heard steps approaching. I didn't feel like looking up so I waited for the bed to dip down to tell me that Emerson was there. It did dip down a second later and my boyfriend gently raised the sheets to crawl under them towards me. He kept his distance, respecting my earlier words of wanting to be left alone.
But right now, I wanted to be held. So I scooted over and nudged my way into Emerson's arms. He opened them immediately for me and waited until I was adjusted comfortably with my head resting on his chest and my arms around his torso. Just then, Emerson moved his own arms to put them around my waist and held me tight. Slowly, he started to move his hands up and down my back, spreading their warmth until it sunk into my skin. Only with these movements, I noticed just how cold I had been the entire day. The soft hairs on my arms raised and I started to shiver as the comfortable warmth started to spread. Emerson saw that and pulled the blanket up to my chin.
For the first time today, I relaxed completely. I pressed a lazy kiss to Emerson's neck as a 'thank you'. "Love you."
"I love you too," Emerson mumbled into my hair and kissed the top of my head, "you can sleep if you want to."
"Okay," I whispered and tugged at the blankets a little bit. I moved around until I was comfortable again and then closed my eyes.
Emerson's slow heartbeat under my ear was a steady rhythm that lulled me to sleep together with his calming presence around me. He always had had that effect on me, even before our relationship. If Emerson was close, I knew I was save and could let my guard down.
The last thing I felt before I fell asleep completely were Emerson's gentle hands in my hair and on my back, massaging the knots out of my tense muscles.
-
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9tzuyu · 4 years
Text
the art of delicate hands – pt. i
[ wandanat. ]
College AU.
Multiple part series ;
↳ snippets of their relationship and how I perceive them.
sumary:
wanda doesn't like to talk very much, only to her brother (and sometimes her lovely redheaded girlfriend).
notes:
if anyone international is reading this, ASL is shortened for american sign language (language of the hands).
+
this is a revised and edited version from when i wrote it on ao3 in 2018.
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The only person that knew was Pietro. It was her little secret, and she could only hope that no one now would find out. She knew she shouldn't be ashamed, it was nothing to be ashamed over. Unsurprisingly however, it became her biggest insecurity – years of relentless bullying ensued that.
Wanda was always anxious. When she was seven she began experiencing panic attacks. The metallic taste of blood in her mouth became familiar over time as her panic attacks worsened.
All because she was mute and didn't feel comfortable to speak to anyone, including her parents. The only person Wanda felt comfortable enough to talk to was her brother (you could say that's because they're twins).
A doctor in Sokovia mentioned to Wanda's parents that therapy may help, that it may get her to speak more than four words a week. So her parents moved her when she was 16 and hoped for the best.
Within a year and a half Wanda was able to develop a clear understanding of American Sign Language. Eight months into the move and Wanda's parents had given up on Wanda ever talking, something that she took personal. They didn't catch on to English as quick as the twins did, their native language stuck closer than expected. Pietro didn't mind learning English quickly as he wanted to fit in school, and he also didn't mind studying ASL to communicate with Wanda on a deeper level.
American high school wasn't much better than her hometown. People talked, whispered and gossiped about her in class, muttered hurtful things about her appearance and the way she carried herself; a shy, quiet, timid girl. The worst part of it was when they mocked her for using a language that was supposed to feel safe for her. Pietro always came to her rescue, shooing people away, reminding them that she's his sister. The silver haired boy had no problem fitting in, it was only when they were apart did people tease the younger brunette.
When their parents died, Wanda took the brunt of the emotional attack it had on the twins. She'd been sitting in the backseat of the car, earbuds in, with her music volume at maximum capacity. Her father had tried to tell her to turn down the music while her mother rest in the passenger seat, window down with her eyes closed. When Wanda didn't hear her father, he reached over, eyes off the road, and tapped her. The second she registered his touch a semi-truck hit her father's door. In a matter of minutes Wanda and Pietro both were left alone to fend for themselves.
Putting the blame on herself only caused her to shut down further. It took over a year for Wanda to speak to Pietro again.
But as per usual, the twins stuck together and finished high school. The only difference was that they lived in foster care, they belonged to the state, up for grabs if anyone wanted them. That came to an end six months into their stay. The foster family proposed the idea of adoption, they had no problem in taking care of the twins for the rest of the time being – or, if they wanted, every day after as well.
At twenty, Wanda and Pietro eventually both went to college and shared a house with a bundle of other people on campus. The younger sibling even found herself a girlfriend within the group, her name being Natasha Romanoff.
Natasha didn't mind at all how little Wanda talked. She was curious, of course, but even before their relationship Nat never pushed her girlfriend into anything uncomfortable. Natasha could tell Wanda always made effort though, that's what drove the brunette into allowing herself a relationship.
When the redhead would sleep, Wanda would continuously practice signing. She'd sign songs and poems, movie scripts and books, everything she possibly could to improve herself. It was a very personal, in touch form of language for her.
Wanda had been with her girlfriend a little over a year and Natasha still didn't know all the unpleasant factors that came about her life. Wanda only told her just enough to get by, and she felt immensely guilty for that. Truth was she desperately wanted to tell Natasha, she just didn't know how. She'd thought about just signing something to her and hoping she would catch on, but figured that would be too much. Anxiety spiked in her chest and in her bones, and she was tired of feeling like a liar.
With a sigh, Wanda plopped down on her bed and pulled her phone out from her back pocket. Unlocking it, she went to her text messages and scrolled to Pietro's contact. When she was sure no one else was in the house, she tapped the call button and listened to the phone ring until Pietro answered.
"You know I'm in the other room, right? You literally could've called my name." He greeted, accent heavy through the speaker.
Wanda giggled as she ran her fingers through her hair. You're safe. Speak, it's okay. She reminded herself.
"Yeah, but are you free?"
"Always."
"Can you come here? I need to ask you about something." Pietro gave out a loud, playful sigh but walked to her room, disconnecting the call on his way in. "What is it, my dear sister? What could possibly be troubling you here on this day? Is it that scruffy redhead?" He smirked arrogantly but sat down in the desk chair across from Wanda, not failing to notice how she rolled her eyes.
"She doesn't have scruffy hair and you know it. It's soft, gentle – and much less damaged than your shit show of an excuse for bleached hair."
"Whatever you say, little chaos."
Wanda groaned, "Why must you still call me that?"
"It suits you well."
There was a shared moment of silence between the two before Pietro spoke up. "What was it you wanted to ask me about?" A small frown was plastered on Wanda's face and Pietro found himself wanting to know even more now. Wanda waited another minute before finally answering. "Should I tell her? You know, about..."
A huge smile took over her brother's face. He was ecstatic that she wanted this for her girlfriend. "Of course you should! I really think she'd be interested to know more about you – y'know, since you don't ever tell her anything."
"I tell her things!" Pietro shook his head, "Does she even know your birthday?" Wanda nodded and turned herself away from him. "I just don't know how to do it. I mean it'd be kind of heavy just taking her out to dinner only to tell her my deepest, darkest secret afterwards. I'm scared she'll hate me, Pietro! And I've never even spoke. More than like, 12 sentences all at once with her!" He softened knowing how much trouble one past  had caused his little sister. "Write her a note?" He suggested, but she shook her head. "I want to tell her, not write her."
Right before he was about to speak again there was a knock at the door. The pair looked up to find Natasha standing in the doorway smiling down at the two. "Am I interrupting?"
Wanda froze while Pietro arrogantly raised his eyebrow and announced his answer. "No. We were just finished talking."
Confusion was written on Nat's face and she stood there until Wanda shook her head and muttered a small "No," giving her the signal that she could come in.
"I'll be in the other room if you need me." Pietro got up, despite Wanda's silent plea for him to stay. He gave her a thumbs up and left the room.
Natasha closed the door and laid next to Wanda, wrapping her arms around the younger woman. "You okay?" Wanda nodded in reply and Natasha knew not to push. For now she'd just keep an eye on her, reassuring her that she could talk to her if need be.
Over the next few days Wanda seemed to be doing better. She was supposed to go to a party with Nat, but opted out to study for classes instead.
"Be safe," she whispered and planted a small kiss on Natasha's lips.
Everyone else went to the same party, leaving the house to just Wanda. She sent out a group message telling everyone to text her or ring her (at the very most importance) if they needed a ride. Wanda didn't drink much anyways so she didn't mind being the designated driver of the bunch. And besides, she didn't mind having some time alone, it gave her the absence of the boys so she could study.
However, after over an hour or so of studying Wanda was beginning to feel stressed. Her nerves were building and she could feel her jaw clench.
She needed a break.
With a small sigh, she got up and connected her phone to her speaker. After scrolling and clicking on her song of choice, Wanda found herself signing the words to a Modest Mouse song.
Green eyes closed as her hands began to string along with the words of the song. It was rather fast paced, but Wanda was able to keep up fairly well thanks to years of practice. Lyrics flowed through her fingertips and in the palms of her hands, her stress levels immediately decreasing as she went on.
Unbeknownst to her, however, Natasha was standing in the doorway watching her every move. She was absolutely mesmerized by Wanda's hand motions. Her finger spelling was very fast, and Natasha was curious to know how long Wanda had known ASL.
When the song was over, Wanda stopped her music and moved herself so she could study again. She grabbed her pens, pencils and highlighters, along with her textbook while her back faced Natasha.
"I didn't know you could sign." Natasha commented. A mix of shock and uneasiness quickly took over the calm look on Wanda's face.
It wasn't until then when Tasha put two and two together. She quickly rushed over to her girlfriend, and carefully engulfed her into a hug.
"Hey, no, I think it's really cool. You don't have to worry now, your secret's safe with me." Wanda began to shake in her grasp, tears forming in her eyes. She backed out of the embrace and against the wall, pulling her knees to her chest.
"No, you're supposed to hate me, laugh at me. You're supposed to be anything but be cool with it." Natasha tilted her head, "Is that what they did to you?"
Wanda peaked out from underneath her arms, the confirmative nod sent Natasha's heart well beyond sinking. She’d never understand how people could willingly be so cruel.
"I'm here to listen, not judge." Her words softly echoed in Wanda's mind, and she watched Natasha carefully to see if she was lying. When she didn't make any remarks or snide comments, Wanda knew it was safe. Accent heavy, she began letting words slip from her mouth.
"I have really bad anxiety when it comes to talking, so I just don’t. Asl makes it easier to communicate, but growing up I was often teased for it. You’re really good at reading me without it, so I hid it from you. Guess their words still haunt me...” Wanda finished, giving Natasha a little more insight on her life.
Natasha moved closer to her girlfriend, bringing Wanda’s shaking body into her embrace. She then kissed the top of her forehead.
Wanda looked up to see Natasha thinking, her eyebrows scrunched together and she was chewing on her lip. She nudged her.
“I think it’s quite beautiful if you ask me.” Wanda cracked a smile and rest her head on Tasha’s shoulder. “Beauty comes from pain, I guess.”
But Natasha shook her head, “No, No, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Wanda nodded. She understood what Natasha was saying, she just didn’t believe it to be true when it came to herself. Nonetheless, she spoke the words, repeating the mantra so that maybe she could start to feel a belief in them.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
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imaginethe-dragons · 3 years
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Boy With Luv (3)
summary: while maintaining your corporate office job at kim publishing house, you also have to try and balance your professional life with your love life. Can you keep both separated or will they collide?
pairing: eventual jeon jungkook x reader
genre: fluff, eventual smut, coworkers to lovers
warnings: suggestive themes, small bit of angsty jk at the end; as always lmk if there are any missed!
word count: 2.7k
part: 3
pronouns: she/her
part 2 here
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"Y/n, it's seven," Joon said, standing behind you. At this point he was gonna push you out the door if he had to. You turned your head, but Namjoon was blocking your way back to your bedroom. So, you took a deep breath and moved to open the door.
        "Y/n, your purse!" Taehyung exclaimed, running up to you with the small red bag that held your phone and keys. You smiled as you took it from him.
        "Thanks, Tae. You're a life saver," you mumbled, kissing him on the cheek before pulling the door open to reveal Jungkook. He was dressed in what he would usually wear to work, a white dress shirt and black slacks. The only two differences was that he had a couple buttons of his shirt undone and his hair was slicked back There was a small curl that rested against his forehead. Long story short, he looked hot.
        "Noona! You look beautiful," he smiled, holding out a bouquet of pink roses. You smiled, knowing that they can mean an innocent love, perfect for early relationship stages.
        "Thank you, Kookie. Let me go put these in a vase. Come in," you smiled, opening the door so you could go to the kitchen, looking under the sink for your vase that your mom gave you. You couldn't find it in any cabinets.
        "Y/n, what are you looking for?" Namjoon asked, peeking his head in. You looked up at him with murder in your eyes.
        "I'm looking for my vase," you grumbled, standing on your tip toes to move some cereal boxes around. He visibly stiffened.
        "You took it to Hoseok's when you moved in with him and I never saw you unpack it here," he told you.
        "Okay, I'll call Hobi later. Can you take care of these for me until then?" You asked him and he was already reaching for scissors to trim the stems.
        "You ready?" Jungkook smiled at you and you nodded. You waved goodbye to Joon and hugged Taehyung before exiting your apartment.
        "Let me just text Hobi, and then we can get on with our evening," you smiled and Jungkook wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you onto the elevator.
"Take your time," he smiled.
        "Think you can handle Jimin tonight or should I go tomorrow?" You asked Jungkook after getting a text back from Hobi.
        "We can go by on our way to my place," he smiled, holding your hand as he led the way to his car.
        "Who said we're going back to yours?" You giggled, just teasing him. You got into the passenger seat and buckled your seatbelt.
        "We're not going back to yours with Taehyung there," he laughed as he started the car.
        "Fair point." Jungkook rested his left hand on your knee as he began the drive to the nearby restaurant.
        "You really do look beautiful tonight," he smiled, helping you out of the car. The compliment had your face turning almost as red as your dress.
        "Thank you. You look handsome," you told him once you were sure you wouldn't stumble over your words. He rested his hand on the small of your back as he led you into the restaurant. The hostess perked up at the sight of Jungkook, but frowned when she saw you.
        "Table for two please," he asked politely. She picked up two menus and led you to a booth. You slid into your seat, thinking Jungkook would sit opposite, but he sat right next to you instead. The close proximity made you turn red again.
        "What can I get you started to drink?" The hostess asked, holding a pad of order tickets.
        "I'll have a Coca-Cola. What about you, y/n?" He asked, focusing on you instead of anything else. You swallowed before deciding what answer to give.
        "I'll be fine with water. Thank you," you smiled at the hostess but she just rolled her eyes. Jungkook pretended to stretch before his arm rested along the back of the booth, so close to resting on your shoulder that you could feel the warmth radiating from him.
        "What do you think you want to eat?" He asked you, leaning in close to look at your menu over your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him with a small smile on your face, but his sudden position was a shock.
        "I was thinking kimbap, what about you?" You asked, sliding the menu between the two of you so he could see more of it.
        "I'm not that hungry, why don't we split kimbap? Or we could split kimchi?" He asked, trying to come up with ways to remain close to you.
        "Sushi was your idea, so I think kimbap is the best option here," you nodded, closing the menu as a new waitress approached your table with two glasses.
        "A water and a Coke. Are you two ready to order or should I come back?" The girl asked with a peppy smile and tone of voice.
        "Just one order of kimbap with two sets of chopsticks please," Jungkook smiled as he ordered for the both of you. She nodded before walking away and Jungkook turned back to you.
        "So, what happened to the dress I picked out earlier?" He asked, toying with the hem of the dress. His touch was electric and made goose bumps spread around your skin.
        "It was a dress I bought for a party, not a date," you answered him simply enough.
        "Now that I think about it. I wouldn't want anyone else seeing you in it," he whispered, ducking down so he could say the words next to your ear.
        "Maybe some other time," you giggled quietly and he smiled wide.
        "So, tell me how you met Hobi hyung," he suddenly said, pulling you into his side.
        "You seriously want me to talk about my ex on our first date?" You asked, giving him a confused look.
        "Well, if he's still in your life I wanna know," he answered, leaning back against the seat.
         "I met him through Jimin. Hobi has been choreographing for him since a year after he debuted. Once I moved here for university I would spend my time doing homework in their studio until Jimin was finished with practice. Hobi asked for my number and then months later asked me on a date," you explained. Jungkook was watching you the whole time, tentatively listening to your every word.
        "I never knew he was Jimin's choreographer," he told you. You nodded in confirmation.
        "What other questions do you have, because I can tell you have more," you giggled at the way he was focused on the table now.
        "How did you meet Namjoon?"
        "I met Joon at BigHit who Jimin is signed under. He was there to pursue a career in producing. When I had told Jimin about it he put in a good word without having met him. So, Joon got the job as a result."
        "So, Jimin's done a lot for you, huh?"
        "Yeah, he likes to help wherever I let him," you chuckled. At this point, you see the waitress coming your way with food. The delicious aroma flooded your sense of smell as she set the plate in front of you and handing you each a set of chopsticks.
        "Thank you," you both say to her as you begin to eat. Jungkook waited patiently for you to take the first bite.
        "Now, how did you meet Jimin?" Jungkook asked.
        "Well me and Jimin are both from the same part of Busan. We went to the same schools. And, unfortunately, our moms are best friends," you sighed.
        "Why's that a bad thing?" JK
        "Our moms had this fantasy of getting pregnant at the same time and hoped that their children would fall in love and make them in laws like some cheesy romance movie," you explained, poking at your next bite of kimbap. Jungkook frowned at this explanation.
        "How does Jimin feel about that?" He carefully asked.
        "We dated one year in high school, but it only lasted like two weeks. We just wanted to see if things felt right, but it didn't work out so we went back to best friends," you explained, laughing at the memories of that time.
        "So you met Hobi and Joon through Jimin. How did you meet Jin?" He asked, knowing that you didn't end up at Kim Publishing House and got Chief Editor after only two years by accident.
        "I was Jin's intern my last year of university. I met him through my journalism professor who had done nothing but brag about how much promise I had shown in her class," you said. Jungkook smiled at how eager you were to answer all of his questions.
        "So, you're just well connected?" Jungkook chuckled, sipping from his drink. You nodded with a small smile on your face.
"I'm just glad that the job part was all on my own. Jin was giving me high praise when he read my articles from my uni's newspaper. I had a whole portfolio ready to go around to different newspaper and magazine companies but he offered me a job the day I graduated, just editing new authors and stuff like that. I was getting work done ten times faster than anyone else on our floor. The Chief Editor at the time was pushing towards retirement and had been giving me all of his work so Jin phased him out and gave me the job," you explained further, telling Jungkook about the year you had worked before he started at Kim Publishing.
"Where do you think you would've ended up if you didn't work at Kim Publishing?" He questioned.
"Probably Min Press. I had an interview the day before Jin offered me the job, but Yoongi was the one who interviewed me so I instantly turned it down when Jin called me," you told him. You went back to eating but Jungkook was frozen with rage.
"Well, I'm glad you took that job otherwise we'd never have met," he said, being completely sincere. Your heart fluttered and you turned away to hide the increasing blush on your face.
"Aw, don't hide your face, Princess," he cooed in your ear, making you giggle as you turned back to him.
        "Shut up," you smiled as you both went back to eating, sharing laughs here and there.
        You two sat for about an hour, just enjoying be in each other's presence. The last of the kimbap was forgotten on the table as Jungkook was currently telling you a story of him and his brother from when they were younger. It had you in a fit of laughter because of how vivid you could imagine it.
        "And our mom just walked in and we both froze like we had our hand in a cookie jar," he laughed as well.
        You both sat there for almost two hours, just telling each other anything and everything that has yet to be known in your relationship. You observed that Jungkook chooses to listen and observe more than he likes to offer his input. It was quite endearing. He asked many questions about your early childhood, trying to understand the Y/n you were before you had met. What he didn't expect though, is that you were a shy little girl who only ever talked to Jimin. He thought you to be outgoing all your life like the first time you had ever met. Over desert you discussed more of Jungkook's life before you met. It was nice to finally hear him gush about his life in Busan before meowing to Soul. His eyes were lit up like Christmas lights.
        As you both finished your shared food, Jungkook told the waitress that you were ready for the check. She nodded and walked away for two minutes before bringing the black book back. You went into your wallet to at least pay for half, but Jungkook held your hand as he already slid his card into the booklet and returned it to the waitress.
        "Kookie," you whined as she walked away.
        "Never thought I would have you whining this early, Princess," he whispered in your ear causing you to turn crimson.
        "Here is your card, sir. Have a nice evening," the waitress smiled at the both of you. Jungkook tucked the card back into his wallet as he stood from his seat, offering you his hand.
        "I be,I've we have a vase to go pick up," he smiled. You held his hand as he led you back to the car. Once again, he opened the door for you and you smiled. As he began to drive, he rested his hand on your thigh, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. The movement caused goosebumps to settle over the area.
        Jungkook parked near the BigHit building where Hobi's practice studio is and you could see his and Jimin's cars across the street. You began to get out and so did Jungkook.
        "You don't have to come in," you told him.
        "I know, but I want to," he shrugged, walking around the car to hold your hand. You led the way to the practice room and could hear some of Jimin's music playing from inside. You opened the door without knocking.
        "Y/n/n!" Jimin said excitedly as Hobi paused the music. He ran up to you and wrapped his arms around you.
        "Yah! Jiminie, you're all sweaty," you exclaimed, your face twisting with disgust. He pulled away and looked down at you.
        "And you look beautiful. Where'd you go?" He asked as he took a sip from his water bottle.
        "We went to dinner," you answered, gesturing between yourself and Jungkook. Jimin almost spat out his water when he registered what you said.
        "Hey, here's your vase," Hobi smiled, handing you the piece of pottery. You carefully held it as you gave him a peck on the cheek as a thank you.
        "Is that all you came here for?" Jimin asked, pouting in the process. You laughed at him which caused him to roll his eyes.
        "Kookie bought me flowers and this is my only vase, so I had to swing by to grab it on our way home," you explained.
        "Well, if the date is over, you wanna come listen to some new tracks I've been working on?"Jimin asked with a smile.
        "The date isn't over yet," Jungkook cut in, causing Jimin to look over at him instead.
        "Another day Jiminie okay? I'll take a look at your book Monday, maybe swing by the practice room?" You suggested, trying to appease your best friend.
"Yeah okay, that's fine," he huffed, turning to go back to his practice time.
"Party at my house Friday, you in?" Hobi asked as you both watched Jimin.
"Party at your house every Friday. Is it bring your own alcohol?" You asked, but he just chuckled before wrapping an arm around you instinctively.
"When is it ever," he answered.
"Thanks for the vase Hobi, but we have to get going," you told him, patting the hand that was around you.
"Okay, I'll see you around," he said, walking back over to Jimin. You turned to leave but Jungkook wasn't anywhere to be found. You walked out the way you came in and found him leaning against his car.
"What are you doing out here, Koo?" You asked as you approached him.
"You looked pretty cozy with Hobi," he grumbled. You rolled your eyes at his words. Even when you were just friends, Hoseok had always showed his affection physically even before you were dating. Hugs, wrapping an arm around you, maybe even a snuggle here and there during a movie night. It was just natural for the two of you at this point.
"Koo, there's a reason we broke up. If I wanted him, I would still be with him," you explained to him. You gave him the truth but cut out the reason why it had ended with Hoseok.
"Do you mean that, Y/n?" He asked, looking at you with tears brimming his eyes. It made your heart ache to know that just seeing someone else's arm around you made him this upset.
"Of course I do. Why don't we go back to my place so I can put the flowers in the vase," you smiled, leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek.
~~~
thank you guys so much for reading! i apologize for the short chapter but i haven’t felt up to adding more so i just decided to post this now. 💜
tag list: @religious-pizza-roll, @fangirl125reader
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ghostpalmtechnique · 3 years
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Things I learned from the e-mail I received after business hours Friday from the teacher of the summer remedial class [EDIT - nope, from the principal of her normal high school, making it the second issue even stranger] that my daughter starts on Monday.
"Bus information was sent out with the registration confirmation." [Narrator voice: It was not.]
"Students are expected to have their laptop with them every day." [The school my daughter normally attends during the school year (not the one she was assigned to for summer) collected all laptops for refurbishment and won't be returning them for another month.]
Just an amazing clusterfuck on the part of the county. And I'm wondering what the working-class parents who don't own a car (who are probably over-represented among parents of struggling students) are supposed to do. Our normal school is about three miles away; the one we were assigned for summer is more like seven miles away.
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Movie Review | War and Peace (Bondarchuk, 1967)
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For all the possibilities opened by computer-generated imagery, it's hard not to feel as if we've lost something along the way. When blockbuster cinema regularly conjures images of world-or-universe defining stakes, scale starts to lose all meaning. I think back to seeing Avengers: Endgame in theatres and, despite enjoying most of the film preceding the climax, finding myself totally unmoved when it produced that splash page image of all the heroes joining forces, as flat and shapeless composition as I've seen in these things. (Rarely have I felt so out of step with the reaction of the surrounding audience, so I realize I'm in the minority on this one.) There's a certain thrill in seeing something physically real on a giant scale that a CG facsimile just can't replicate. For recent movies I can think of that feel truly grandiose, I'd have to go back to Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy, and even then shortcuts were used in the way of special effects and stand-ins.
In this respect, Sergey Bondarchuk's War and Peace represents some kind of pinnacle of this lost art, a work that feels truly colossal in ways few films have approached. One way to grasp the film's scale is in terms of hard numbers. It runs a total of seven hours (released initially in four different parts). At the time of production, it cost reportedly $100 million, estimated by the New York Times to be $700 million in modern times when adjusted for inflation. The cast totaled approximately 120,000, many of whom were extras supplied by the Soviet Army. Thousands of costumes, sixty cannons and 120 wagons were made, and over forty museums donated artifacts to the production. This would all be moot were the movie a mess, but the production is a masterwork of controlled chaos. The sheer scale of the battles is captured with clarity by the expected crane and helicopter shots, but Bondarchuk's style is spontaneous and constantly evolving. Handheld camerawork hurtles us through the combat, while the liberal use of filters, splitscreens, superimpositions and jagged editing give the proceedings a heightened, hallucinatory quality. There's an exhilarating documentary quality to seeing anything of this scale, but the stylistic abandon with which the proceedings are captured render them almost a fever dream. There's a tendency to treat important novels like homework (I'm sure everyone has at least one example from their high school English class), and truth be told, I haven't actually read War and Peace (because it's like 1200 pages, c'mon), but Bondarchuk injects a spontaneity into his adaptation that should lay those fears to rest.
Bondarchuk produces some truly remarkable images, like a sequence where the composition of shot of a battlefield full of soldiers morphs real time as clouds of gunsmoke erupt with orchestral precision. Given the scale and scope of the movie, it's hard not to compare it with that famous American epic Gone with the Wind, and War and Peace contains certain moments that feel like direct responses to some of the former's most memorable images and scenes, outdoing the burning of Atlanta and the landscape full of wounded soldiers with even more vivid, forceful images. In the face of the sheer size of the spectacle, the human element can seem underwhelming at first, and that seems intentional in the first part, Andrei Bolkonsky, where a joke about an illiterate messenger seems completely limp after a horrific battle. It's in the second part, Natasha Rostova, where the human element comes into focus, carried by a trio of lead characters, a fallible but good hearted noble played by Bondarchuk himself, an innocent young woman played by ballerina Ludmila Savelyeva, who is lit and shot to look as achingly beautiful as possible, and a prince played by Vyacheslav Tikhonov who goes off to war against the invading Napoleonic army. (On a side note, the actors resemble Thomas Mitchell, Anna Karina and Christopher Plummer, respectively. Should your attention happen to drift, as is possible during a great yet somewhat unwieldy seven-hour epic, you can amuse yourself by pretending they're in the movie.)
Bondarchuk's character is deployed as an audience surrogate during the third part, The Year 1812 (where he views the excitement and madness of the truly astounding battle scene firsthand), and develops a capacity for every day heroism in the fourth and final part, Pierre Bezukhov. As such, his arc is most closely tied to the film's nationalist viewpoint, but because Bondarchuk understands human weakness (in this character and others, like the half-blind general who mistakes his pyrrhic victory for a real one), it's also the most moving in the film. If anything, Bondarchuk, despite allegedly being an enthusiastic party supporter, renders the nationalistic fervour transparent, like when he slaps on a patriotic coda to the carnage at Borodino and immediately follows it with a retreat from Moscow. This moment is further subverted when he applied Napoleon's stentorian narration over the sight of a weakened French army retreating in the thick of winter. Napoleon himself is more of a figurehead in this movie than a real character, and is denied any real interiority, yet I suspect Bondarchuk identified with him at least a little. Near the end of the battle at Borodino, there's an image of Napoleon sitting down on a chair not unlike one used by a director during filming as he observes a vast formation of his men moving across the landscape, and in this moment he comes as much a stand-in for Bondarchuk as the character the director actually played.
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mads-maddie-madison · 5 years
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Antithetical -part 2
(Hawthorne!Michael)
//NOTE// I hope this part is more fulfilling than the last. It is slightly edited, but it was done in the middle of class so we’ll see how that goes, lol.
Summary: After Robichaux's supreme, Cordelia Foxx, allows Hawthorne's own Boy Wonder, Michael Langdon, to attempt the test of the Seven Wonders, y/n has a problem accepting that. She will stop at nothing to prove he is anything but the next supreme, even if that means attempting the test herself.
Warnings: Light Angst, sexual tension (?)
Word Count: 1.8k
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xx
I groaned, slamming my laptop shut. My eyes were throbbing, dry. They felt like they were ashes left by the coals of a burning fire. I had been studying for three days now, no break in sight, at least not until after Sunday afternoon. I rubbed my eyes, looking at the time. Eleven-thirty-two, I had been at this for almost four hours. Shuffling out of my chair, I made my way towards the door. I at least needed something to eat before I spent the rest of my day head deep in grimoires.
"And where do you think you're going?" I internally groaned at the malicious voice, words dripping with arrogance. "And why do you care, Langdon?" I refused to stop, continuing my strides down the white hallway, trying to focus on the photos of past witches rather than Michael's presence behind me, following my every step. "Well Miss y/l/n, I'm only looking out for your well being, seeing as how you'll need every moment of studying you can get if you want to even have a chance against myself." Every moment I spoke to him, it felt like his ego inflated. I didn't believe I could feel so much resentment towards another human being, if that's even what you'd call him. "You're so confident that you'll succeed, what makes you think I won't?" I cascaded my way down the stairs focusing myself towards the kitchen, glancing back at him. His posture all the same as it was three days ago. Hands held behind his back, chest broadened to show dominance. His blonde hair swept to the sides, and the same black uniform that all the Hawthorne warlocks wore. I made a mental note to make sure I looked as prepared as he does on Sunday. "It's blatantly obvious y/n, I've seen your reports. You're mediocre in all your classes. Not to mention, you've shown no abilities that even begin to compare to mine." That damn smirk spread across his face again, oh how badly I wanted to smack it off. "Just like how it's blatantly obvious that you're a self-absorbed, conceded asshole?" He chuckled, knowing he was getting a rise out of me. I reached over the counter, grabbing a red apple from the bowl in the center. "I can assure you, Mr. Langdon, that you most definitely have competition this Sunday. I would jump off of that high horse of yours before you fall." Biting into the apple as I made direct eye contact with him, his ice blue eyes staring straight back at me. Had he not been such an arrogant, self-centered jackass, I may even think he was beautiful. He said nothing, just continued to look straight through me. As if he was reading everything about me by a simple look. "I know what you're trying to do. You're trying to discourage me, you want me to question myself and my own abilities. I can promise you it's not going to work." With that I walked out of the kitchen, the feeling of his eyes glaring into my back as I left the room.
I knew what he was trying to do, if he discouraged me it was likely that I'd do worse in the seven wonders. I sighed as I looked back towards my desk, the mountain of books and papers spread across the surface. I had already mastered telekinesis, having had been one of my original abilities when I first arrived at Robichaux. Concilium followed, I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a challenge. I decided I needed help, so I texted Mallory asking for her to meet me in my room. "What did you need help with?" I looked up from my book as Mallory walked through my bedroom door. "Concilium, I need someone to practice on." She nodded in understanding, sitting across my bed. "Alright well before you do anything, just please, nothing embarrassing." I chuckled at her, "Agreed." I turned my chair, focusing on Mallory. I focused my thought on making her stand, grabbing the random shirt that was thrown onto the floor and imagining her folding it. I had stared at her for what felt like forever, nothing was happening. "This is ridiculous!" I sighed in frustration, "You're thinking too hard y/n. Don't stress it, let your mind flow freely." I let out a deep breath of air, I knew she was right. Maybe Michael had gotten to me earlier, this shouldn't be so difficult. I reverted my attention back to Mallory, "Alright, let's try this again." I freed my mind of any thought of Michael, of the test, any worry I had to think of. Slowly, I watched Mallory stand and walk towards the corner where my shirt resided. Picking it up, she walked towards the bed, folding it neatly and setting it down. "See y/n, you just have to be stress free."
Pyrokinesis was next, I grabbed the candle that sat on my nightstand. Running my hand over the wick, I watched the flame ignite. I smiled to myself, I had succeeded in three of the seven wonders, at least I was getting somewhere. "Alright Mallory, I need you to help me with divination." She agreed and walked out of the room, not returning for what felt like five minutes. "Okay, you need to find something that once belonged to Cordelia." I nodded, I closed my eyes, focusing on the energy that engulfed the rooms atmosphere, I allowed my thoughts to bring me towards the object of my desire. I stood up, walking out of my room and down the hall towards the end where a pot full of decorative wooden sticks rested. Reaching out I grabbed Cordelia's old support cane, from when she was attacked by her father-in-laws pets. "Is this it?" I questioned, facing Mallory, "yes."
Transmutation was anything but a challenge, so far I had this under my belt. The ball seemed to be in my court. Now I had to focus on Vitalum Vitalis, I grabbed the dead rose from my bed that I had gotten from the garden earlier. It just so happened to be one of the unfortunate few that didn't get enough sunlight. I bent over the rose, leaning my head down towards the red flower. I lightly blew onto it, attempting to transfer my own life force into the unlucky plant. I watched the petals slowly rejuvenate, lifting themselves up from a crippled, dried up mess to a soft, delicate rose once again. The shriveled up brown stem became a vibrant shade of green again, full of life. Now I could focus on the most challenging task; descensum.
This was the one I feared, the thing that would determine life or death. If I fail, my soul would be stuck in my own personal hell for eternity, whatever plan for a life ahead of me gone within the blink of an eye. I considered pushing it off for Sunday, if I were to die, then I could die attempting to save my coven. But if I attempted it now, and failed, I could die in the comfort of my own bed, quietly and peacefully. Mallory sat on my bed, silently watching me as I practiced. I glanced towards the clock for the second time today, four-fifty-seven. I inhaled a large sum of air, before slowly exhaling as I made my final decision. I would be no coward, I will practice descensum, but I won't attempt it until the day of the test. If I'm going to die, I'm going to go out proudly instead of hiding out behind the confinement of my own four walls.
xx
It was nearly one-thirty in the morning now, time had gotten away from me. The only thing that mattered was my passing of the test. The test that was in two days, I should be resting, knowing every minute of sleep was a gift. Every moment of peace mattered, in two days my life will forever be changed. For the better or the worst, I don't know. I had been laying here, tossing and turning for the majority of the time I had been in bed. Thinking of the different possibilities as to how this could end. If I passed, Michael wouldn't, if Michael passed, then I wouldn't. Each thought raking my mind, one right after another. I turned, facing the window, staring at the front yard. The thought of how Zoe had failed transmutation, ending up laid out across the forks of the gate. Suddenly it occurred to me that I was not the only one risking my life to complete this task, Michael was too. While I had hoped that I passed, I became worried at the thought of him failing in the worst way possible, my heart dropped to my stomach. ' Why do you care about him y/n?' I thought to myself, 'You barely know him, he means nothing to you.' I still thought the worst, Michael may be arrogant, but I surely didn't want him to die. Did I?
'No of course not! You'd never wish death upon anyone.'
"Thinking of me?" My head snapped to the doorway I hadn't noticed was open. My eyes met the tall dark figure that was Michael Langdon. "What are you doing in my room?" I immediately sat up, suddenly feeling exposed due to my sense of vulnerability. "My dear y/n, your thoughts are consuming." He urged forward, coming closer to the end of my bed. "So you're clairvoyant as well? Good to know," I huffed, pulling my blanket up to cover my tank top adorned torso. "Well I tend to listen in when I'm the main topic. Worried for me are we?" Even though I couldn't exactly see it due to the darkness of the room, I could practically hear the signature smirk on his face. "Why would I worry for you?" I attempted to rebuttal, trying my best to hide my thoughts, not wanting him to learn anything further. This time he sat at the edge of my bed, slowly leaning over me. His face now lit by the light of the moon shining through my window. "Don't deny it Miss y/l/n," he slowly reached his right hand up to push a strand of hair behind my ear. "I think we both know I mean a little bit more to you than you'd care to admit." He was so close I could smell the mint on his breath. He leaned a little bit closer, mouth resting over the lobe of my ear. I could feel the heat of his breath as he spoke, "Good luck Sunday." Suddenly I was alone again, the ghost of his words haunting me to sleep. Did I care for him more than I'd care to admit?
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