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imaginesfordifferentfandoms · 3 years

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It's Going To Be You

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Prompt - I knew I did from that first moment we met. It was…not love at first sight exactly, but - familiarity. Like: oh, hello, it’s you. It’s going to be you.

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Spencer Reid knew from the moment he laid eyes on you that you were something else, he could tell from one glance that you would change his life. No words needed to be exchanged for the man to be completely and utterly taken by you. He watched as you walked through the door, though your head was held high, shoulders pushed back giving the impression of complete confidence, he saw the way you fiddled with the strap of your bag with one hand. When he looked at your other hand he could see your forefinger picking at your thumb, clearly a nervous habit. He watched as you looked around the room, watched as Rossi made his way over to you, guiding you over to Hotch’s office with a smile.

“Down, pretty boy.” Derek grinned as Spencer startled, his head snapping around to face Derek just as you entered Hotch’s office. “I’ve never seen that look on your face and you don’t even know her name.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Spencer replied, cringing at how unconvincing he sounded.

He turned away from Derek and tried to focus on his paperwork but he could stop his eyes from straying over to the closed office door every few minutes much to Derek and Rossi’s amusement.

“Who is she anyway?” Derek asked.

“She’s lucky number ten,” Rossi told them, smothering a smile as Spencer looked over, “who knew finding another agent would be so difficult.”

“Wait,” another voice interrupted, “there’s a new person here? Is she nice? Why is that always my first question?” The group laughed as Penelope quizzed Rossi.

“Listen, I know as much as you people.” He said and before anyone else could speak Penelope was being handed a folder causing them all to groan.

“Agent Hotchner?” You asked as you were granted access to the office.

Hotch stood as you walked in, moving around his desk to hold a hand out to you.

“Yes and you’re Y/F/N Y/L/N, I presume?” He asked, smiling slightly at you as you nodded, still fiddling with your bag. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, please have a seat.”

“Thank you sir.” You smiled, taking a seat in the offered chair watching as he made his way back behind his desk.

“Your supervisor spoke very highly of you when I spoke with him, your success rate is impressive.” Hotch praised, glancing down at the file in front of him. “Your latest case seemed rather difficult, are you sure you’re ready to be back in the field again?”

“I passed all my psychiatric exams, I was cleared to return.” You told him stiffly.

“I’m aware of your results, I just want to be sure you’re ready. Infiltrating yourself into the life of Douglas Miller couldn’t have been an easy feat.” Hotch watched as a look of satisfaction took over your face.

“I’m ready, sir.” You told him, relaxing slightly. “It was a tough case, I’ll be the first to admit that seeing what I saw had an impact but I can do this.”

Hotch smiled at you before closing the folder.

“I believe you,” he said, “I think you’ll be a valuable addition to this team.”

The words were what you were hoping to hear, you’d wanted a job with the BAU for longer than you could remember but you paused. Surely it wasn’t that easy, right?

“Wait? That’s it?” You asked.

“That’s it.” Hotch confirmed, fighting back a smile at your expression.

“But- but I’ve been here less than five minutes.” You countered back, there were so many emotions going on within you that you felt slightly overwhelmed.

“Y/N, ever since your name was put forward I looked into your work and I was impressed. Your skills at undercover work are far above what I’ve seen in a long time, that alone would be an incredibly useful assest to the team but on top of that your ability to connect and empathise with unsubs, fast thinking and your profiling skills- trust me, you deserve this job and I have complete faith in you.” Hotch’s words had left you speechless, you had no clue how to respond but thankfully you didn’t have to as the door was pushed open and both you and Hotch turned to look at the brightly dressed woman in the doorway.

“I’m sorry to interrupt sir but we have a case.” The woman said and Hotch stood gesturing for you to follow.

“You have a to go bag?” He asked as you both walked out the door.

“Yes sir.” You nodded, still baffled by how well things had gone.

“Good, welcome to the team Y/L/N.”

“Everyone, this is SSA Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m sure proper introductions can be made later.” Hotch said as the two of you entered the room before gesturing to Garcia that she could begin.

“Ok, yes, so, we have five bodies so far found in Wyoming. The first two bodies were hidden amongst some trees close to firehole bay. The ME presumes that the time of death was mostly likely a week ago but we should have full confirmation when you arrive. The victims, who we haven’t been able to identify yet, but I am working on it, were stripped completely and the wounds, that are in your files because I so do not need to see that, show heavy signs of torture. ” Garcia informed you all.

“The next body was a single male, again stripped and tortured and the ME says this death is most likely four to five days old. This body was found a few miles away from Basin Bay Point campsite.”

“Wait a second,” somebody interrupted, causing you to turn your head. There sat a man, younger than the rest of the team, he was…how you had missed him you didn’t know but now you felt like you couldn’t look away. “If I’m not mistaken those places are roughly twenty miles from each other at walking distance.”

“And driving distance?” An older man asked.

“I don’t think there is a way to drive to Basin Bay Point, especially not to where the body was left.” The younger man replied, looking down at the folder he was given with a frown.

“I’ll have a map ready for you on the plane.” Penelope assured him before continuing. “Now, the next two bodies were the most recent, ME says they were killed a day or two ago and these victims we have been able to identify as Taylor Gomez and her boyfriend Jack Gaskarth.” Penelope said as she brought their pictures up. “They were never reported missing because they had told friends and family they were going camping, which checks out because their bodies were found three miles away from Lewis Lake campground. They show the same wounds as the other vics.” Garcia explained.

You grimaced as you looked down at the tablet Hotch had passed you as you saw a young man and woman, naked with slices all across their bodies, as well as deep bruising to the neck.

“What was the CoD, Garcia?” The younger man spoke up again.

“ME still needs to run a full examination but her best bet is that it was asphyxiation.” She told him with a frown.

“That makes sense, there isn’t a lot of blood or scabbing which suggests they were done post mortem.”

“So what,” you spoke up, pausing for a moment when everyone turned to you, “the unsub blitz attacks the victims and kills them before torturing them? What’s the point in that?”

“It could be a number of things actually. Perhaps it’s not about the kills for him but more to do with the fascination of the human body, we’ve seen it before where curiosity leads to this kind of attack. It could also be that he has to kill, he has a compulsion to kill and once he’s given into that compulsion he gets to fulfil other urges. If I had to guess I’d say the victims are victims of opportunity-” The younger man rambled, his hands gesturing in front of him as he spoke causing you to smile.

“Because there is no set pattern, he crosses race and gender lines and there’s no secondary location.” You cut off the other man who looked at you with a grin.

“Exactly, the area is so isolated that he can get away with quick and easy killings but because it doesn’t seem like there’s a secondary location yet we have to presume that the torture is a means to satisfy himself when he can’t hold his victims hostage.”

“It’s a long flight and this unsub doesn’t appear to be slowing down. Wheels up in fifteen.” Hotch said as he stood up, everyone was quick to follow until it was just you and the guy you had spoken to left.

“Hi.” He said, causing you to turn around with a smile.

“Hi.”

“I’m Spencer, Spencer Reid.” He introduced himself.

“Y/F/N Y/L/N, nice to meet you.” You replied, reaching out your hand to shake his, your eyebrows pulling together slightly as he shook his head.

“Sorry, I don’t um,” He said, causing you to drop your hand and nod understandingly, “it’s nothing against you, just…germs.” He trailed off, berating himself in his head.

“No problem.” You smiled again, god that smile. Spencer felt his heart race.

“Congratulations on joining the team.” He praised as the two of you walked out of the round table room.

“Thank you, I’ve wanted this for so long.” He watched as the smile fell from your face before you shook your head slightly.

“Is everything ok?” He asked, understanding the nerves. He couldn’t help but glance down, almost smiling as he saw you picking at your thumb.

“Yeah, I’m just, what if I mess up?” You couldn’t help but ask. After wanting this job for as long as you had, all the hard nights and long days spent training you were finally here and you’d be damned if you screwed everything up.

“You won’t, Hotch wouldn’t have hired you if he didn’t think you were good enough, trust me. I think you’ll be amazing.” He told you, flushing slightly at his own words and the soft smile that replaced the frown on your face.

“Thank you Spencer.” You replied softly and before he could respond the rest of the team was calling for the two of you to head to the air strip.

On the plane you were properly introduced to everyone as you took a seat next to Spencer, sitting opposite Hotch and Rossi. On the table in front of you Spencer had both a map of the US and a smaller map of Wyoming. You watched his fingers trace invisible lines as his eyebrows knitted together.

You were trying not to stare, really you were, but there was just something about the man that made you want to get to know him.

Thankfully before anyone noticed your eyes glancing at Spencer every few moments, the man himself spoke.

“Guys, if you map out where the five victims were found,” Spencer began, circling three places on the map as he did, “it looks like the victims might have been hiking the continental divide trail.”

“Pretty boy, isn’t that trail like thousands of miles long?” Morgan asked, watching as Spencer nodded, pushing the little map of Wyoming out of the way for a moment and drawing a line down the map of the US.

“This is the continental divide trail, it’s 3,300 miles long and it’s actually quite difficult to hike. These people had to have been exceptionally fit and healthy which further backs up the theory that these were blitz attacks. You can go days without seeing other people when hiking the trail and most hikers have to give up because of lack of supplies or needing urgent medical care from injuries and illnesses they attract. A part of the Wyoming part of the trail includes a 120 mile stretch of desert with water sources few and far between.” Spencer rambled and you couldn’t help the soft smile, though you did try to hide it behind your hand, glancing away from Rossi when you locked eyes with him and he raised an eyebrow at you.

“So we have a serial killer and 3,300 miles of potential hunting grounds?” JJ asked.

“So far he seems to be focusing on Wyoming, which narrows the geographic profile down to…’ Spencer paused as he pulled the Wyoming map closer to him, “550 miles.”

“I hope you all brought your hiking boots.” Rossi said as groans filled the jet.

“Hello my crime fighters.” Garcia’s voice sounded through the speakers. “Hotch, the families of the latest two victims are at the station waiting for you.”

“Thank you Garcia,” Hotch replied before turning to the team. “JJ, I want you to come with me to the station and help interview the families. We also need to get ahead of the media on this before they start glorifying the unsub. Reid, since the geographic profile is mostly established, I want you to take Y/L/N and head to the latest crime scene. Dave and Morgan, the two of you head to the second crime scene.”

You and Spencer both shared a look at the news you were travelling to a crime scene that couldn’t be driven too. Whilst you managed to pass the FBI’s training and fitness tests you weren’t exactly athletically inclined and seeing from the look Spencer was giving you neither was he.

Judging from the chuckles that filled the plane the others had come to the same conclusion that you and Spencer were not going to recover from this trip.

You had driven as close to the crime scene as you could get, which was thankfully closer than the one Morgan and Rossi had to go to. It was still a hell of a hike to get to where the unsub had dumped the bodies.

“Ok, ok,” Spencer panted, cheeks flushed from the heat. “Let’s take a break.”

“Please.” You were quick to agree and the two of you sat down heavily on a fallen tree trunk. You had all been warned that you needed supplies, even for a short hike. So you had both been sent out with backpacks filled with water bottles and food. There were other supplies like maps, compasses and first aid kits that you were hoping you wouldn’t have to use. Thankfully you had been paired with the man with the eidetic memory because you couldn’t read a map to save your life.

After the two of you gulped down some water and caught your breath Spencer spoke up.

“Why the BAU?” He asked suddenly, causing you to look up in confusion.

“Sorry?” You replied.

“You said you had wanted to join the BAU for a long time, why?” He asked again, not pushing you when you paused.

It wasn’t a secret what had happened to your family, Spencer could easily find the information out if he wanted to but you wanted to be the one to tell him. It wasn’t a story you liked sharing with people but something about Spencer made you feel…safe.

“When I was a kid there was a serial killer but he was in the next state over and we were from a small town so nobody thought to worry and after a while things went quiet so everyone just assumed he stopped, you know? Anyway, one day I went to my friend’s house, it was summer and I was always out with my friends. I was there for a few hours but I was always home in time for dinner except for this day, I ended up losing track of time and headed home an hour late. When I got home, my momma was there in the kitchen. She was covered in blood and I just screamed. The rest of my family didn’t make it either. When the police came they said the markings were the same as the victims from the next state over.” You told him, not pausing for breath as you rushed through the story. You watched as his expression fell, his sympathy written on his face.

“I’m so sorry.” He told you and you could hear the sincerity in his tone. You gave him a small smile before continuing.

“I could just never understand why. The thing that kept me up at night was that question: why? Why them? Why did he come here? Why wasn’t I home? Why did I deserve to live? I started researching and somehow came across an article about the BAU, from there I knew I wanted to work there.”

“Most people wouldn’t be able to come back from something like that, especially at such a young age.” Spencer said, causing you to glance over at him. “They’d be so proud of you.”

You couldn’t help but let out what sounded like a chuckle and a sob at those words, causing Spencer’s eyes to widen in fear he had upset you further but then you smile brightly and he couldn’t help but smile back.

“I like to think so.” You said softly. “You ready to continue?” You asked, chuckling as he groaned before standing up.

“I hate Hotch.” Was the grumbled response and the laugh he received in return made every sore bone and the aching feet worth it.

“We know that this unsub is a physically fit white male in his mid to late thirties.” Hotch began.

“Looking at the geographical pattern it’s safe to assume that he too is hiking the Continental Divide Trail in search of victims who are isolated from the rest of civilization. He also has no problems taking down two victims.” Spencer continued.

“The period in between kills is lessening so we should expect to find another body soon, have as many officers as possible on the rest of the trail.” You picked up.

“Considering the last kill was two days ago, the average person could walk up to 30 miles a day on normal terrain but we have to consider that the terrain out there is harsh so lets say he walks 20 miles a day that gives up a 40 mile radius he could be in. He is guaranteed to stay on the continental divide trail so stop every male you see.” Spencer told the LEO’s and after some more information was shared everyone headed off in different directions, the BAU members heading into the room they had been given to work in.

“Y/N,” Hotch said, causing everyone to look over at you.

“Yes sir?” You asked, looking up from your laptop.

“You’re probably the most skilled undercover agent in this room,” He said, causing your cheeks to flush and Spencer couldn’t help but smile. “I know this isn’t exactly the type of case you’d usually be assigned but perhaps if we send you out there we have a better chance of catching him. This man is impulsive, if he sees you he won’t be able to control himself.” Hotch explained, ignoring the questioning looks he was getting from most of the team.

You, however, relaxed, thankful that you hadn’t done something wrong. Undercover work was easy, you were comfortable with it, you knew you were good at it. Obviously you weren’t as confident at this part of the job yet, how could you be on your first case, but undercover work? That was your area of expertise.

“Of course sir.” You agreed easily before remembering how fun the small hike to the last crime scene was…your body would not thank you for signing up for a much longer hike.

“Hotch, are you sure that’s a good idea?” Morgan spoke up causing you to frown. Sure they didn’t know you yet but surely your record spoke for itself. “No offence to you,” he said quickly as he turned to you, “it’s just-“

But before he could finish Hotch cut him off, “I have full faith in Y/L/N’s abilities.”

You couldn’t help feeling a swell of pride at Hotch’s words, a man who you looked up to, a man who barely knew you but was trusting you with so much already. You locked eyes with Spencer who smiled at you reassuringly.

“I’m not doubting the kid’s abilities,” Morgan continued, missing the way you rolled your eyes at being called a kid. “I’m just saying maybe don’t send her in on her own on her first case.”

“I’ll go with her.” Spencer spoke up before Hotch could argue back.

Your eyes widened at Spencer’s offer, he did just as well as you did on your first outing and now he was offering to put himself through hours more of that for what?

“Are you ok with that, Y/N?” Hotch asked you.

You didn’t even hesitate to nod, more than happy for the opportunity to spend time with Spencer Reid.

“We’ll be close by the whole time,” Hotch told you as he passed you your backpack filled with supplies, “the second we hear something, we’ll be there.” He assured you and you couldn’t help but smile at his concern.

“I’ll be fine, sir. This is actually the part of the job I’m good at.” You laughed, watching as his lip twitched upwards.

“You’ve been a great help in coming up with a profile too.” He assured you and before you could say anything the rest of the team was flooding in.

The plan for you and Spencer to hike up to a specific spot that Spencer had managed to pinpoint the unsub at and set up camp there. From there you would wait and hope for the unsub to appear. The man was impulsive and his need to kill would be overwhelming by now. The two of you were wired up so that if the unsub appeared the rest of the team could step in and help with the arrest.

You and Spencer were dropped off half an hour away from your campsite just so that if the unsub was around he wouldn’t suspect anything.

The walk was mostly silent, both you and Spencer focusing on not breaking an ankle on the uneven terrain when Spencer finally spoke up.

“Morgan didn’t mean anything insulting.” He told you, causing you to pause before shrugging your shoulders and continuing. When you stayed silent Spencer continued, “he’s just protective but sometimes he isn’t really good at showing it and it comes across…”

“It comes across like he thinks I can’t do my job despite this being my forte.” You finished with a huff before sighing. “I’m sorry, I just…you can’t imagine how many times a male colleague has said I can’t do something and then a supervisor has agreed, you don’t understand how hard I have to fight to be given assignments and not have somebody constantly berating me.” You ranted.

“People look at me like I’m a child. When I first joined the BAU nobody would take me seriously, without Gideon I don’t know what would have happened.” Spencer told you quietly, causing you to frown.

“So you can understand why it’s so frustrating that someone who doesn’t know me didn’t even want to give me a chance.” You replied, causing him to nod sadly. ‘I know he probably didn’t mean anything but…”

“You’ve heard that your entire career.” Spencer finished.

“Hotch was the first person to give me a chance without any hesitation.” You told him softly, watching as he smiled at that. “This should be close enough.” You said as you looked around, the place looked similar to the image Spencer had shown the team.

“Please tell me you know how to put a tent up.” You said, watching as his face twisted.

“I know the theory?” The way his response sounded like a question made you smile as you pulled poles and material out of a bag. The two of you staring down at the mess with matching expressions of confusion.

“Now would be a really good time for the unsub to attack.” He muttered, causing you to laugh loudly. Spencer couldn’t help but grin over at you, your cheeks flushing as you caught the expression.

It took longer than either you or Spencer were willing to admit to put the tent up, despite the fact that it wouldn’t get used, you had to make it look like the pair of you were really camping. There was a lot of grumbling, many curse words and a cut or two.

There was also a lot of laughter coming from the comms in your ears causing both you and Spencer to roll your eyes.

Once the tent was up, Spencer lay a blanket down outside of it and sat down, gesturing for you to do the same. Miraculously the two of you got a fire started and as the sun set and the night time air chilled you were thankful for it.

“I don’t camp but I guess I can see the appeal.” Spencer told you as he titled his head back to look up at the stars. You glanced up too, the sky wasn’t totally black yet, more of an inky blue colour and you could see every star on the cloudless night.

It was beautiful and yet you still found your gaze falling back on Spencer.

“Yeah, me too.” You replied softly, your voice quiet so as not to break the peacefulness around you.

Somehow the two of you ended up laying down and looking up at the sky, you had a smile on your face that refused to move as Spencer’s hushed voice told you facts about stars.

“I’m glad you’re on the team.” Spencer whispered after a long pause of silence. It took you a moment to register his words before you turned your head, coming face to face with the man.

“Me too.” You whispered back, meaning the words with your entire being.

Just as Spencer went to say something you heard a rustle in the bushes and locked eyes with Spencer who nodded.

The two of you waited, not waiting to disrupt the operation if it just turned out to be an animal, but as you pushed yourself up on your elbow and discreetly looked around you saw a faint outline of a man. He was hidden behind a tree but he was watching the two of you.

“The hike up here was exactly what we needed.” You told Spencer and through the comms you heard the team moving out.

“You’re right.” He played along, smiling up at you from his reclined position.

Before you knew what was happening Spencer had his gun out and the unsub grabbed you, placing you in front of him as a human shield. If someone asked you, you would never have been able to recall the events that led to you having a knife held to your neck.

You saw the panicked look in Spencer’s eyes but you couldn’t hear his thoughts, they were overwhelming. Thoughts of Maeve passed through his mind as he pleaded with anyone who would listen to let you be ok, he couldn’t lose you too. Hell, he’d only known you a few days and yet he knew you were special, he knew he had to have you in his life. If you died now…

“Just let her go.” Spencer said, keeping his gun trained on the man.

“I let her go, you ship me off to death row.” The man responded, his face close to your face, too close. The smell of his breath had you grimacing.

“I’ll make you a deal,” Spencer responded, not even thinking. He just needed to get you away.

“Spenc, what you doing kid?” He heard Morgan through his ear piece but he just shook his head before shooting you a reassuring smile, trying not to focus on the tears in your eyes or the blood on your neck.

“I’m listenin’.” The unsub replied after a moment of silence, gesturing for Spencer to continue.

“Let her go,” He said, lowering his gun, “I won’t arrest you. You can get a head start before anyone else gets here. Just let her go.” Spencer pleaded.

It was a tense few seconds in which Spencer never took his eyes off you, he hated to see that scared look in your eyes, the fear in them made Spencer ache.

“Let her go.” Spencer said once more and he let out a sigh of relief as you were pushed into his arms.

Just as the unsub ran to leave, you twisted around in Spencer’s arms and drew your own gun, shooting the unsub in the leg. The rest of the team ran in just as the man fell to the ground.

Spencer turned you around so that you were facing him, his hands on your shoulders.

“Are you ok?” He asked, Morgan and Hotch walking over whilst Rossi and JJ dealt with the man.

You didn’t respond with words, instead you wrapped your arms around Spencer. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his own around you, holding you close as you let the tears slid down your face.

You pulled away abruptly, rubbing your eyes as you did.

“Sorry, you don’t like to be touched and here I am-“ You said but Spencer just cut you off.

“It’s fine, really.” He assured you before his attention turned to your neck. The knife hadn’t pierced the skin too badly, there was a small bit of blood where the knife had nicked you when the unsub pressed a bit too hard.

“Are you ok?” He asked again, fingers on your jaw so that he could tilt your face and get a better look.

“Spencer, I’m fine.” You assured him but that didn’t stop him from getting you medical attention the moment you were back in the town.

Spencer watched as you squirmed away from the nurse seeing to you with a soft smile.

There was something about you that made him feel so free, like he could be himself and the thought of losing you…he didn’t want to think about it again.

“You like her.” Derek said as he came to stand next to the younger man.

“That’s ridiculous, I’ve known her for a few days.” Spencer shot back but he knew his friend was right.

“If she’s the right girl, a few days is all you need.” Was Derek’s reply before he walked away, leaving Spencer looking at you with a thoughtful look on his face.

The plane ride home was uneventful.

You took the seat next to Spencer again and watched him pull a book out. You couldn’t help but glance down at it, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion as you didn’t recognise the language.

“It’s Russian.” He told you quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone as they settled in for a long flight.

“You read Russian?” You asked just as quietly, watching as he smiled bashfully and shrugged before nodding. You glanced down at the pages again before letting out a small yawn. “Can you read to me?” You asked him, smiling as he nodded again.

“Of course,” He said and with that it wasn’t long before you fell asleep to the soothing sound of Spencer Reid.

“Ask her, man.” Morgan said as both he and Spencer watched you leave the office after finishing your paperwork. Spencer too was done and Morgan assured him he’d make sure Hotch received it.

There was only a brief moment of hesitation before Spencer snatched his satchel up and ran to the elevators, getting there just before they shut on you.

“Hey.” He greeted as he stepped in.

“Hi.” You smiled, brushing a piece of hair out of your face.

“I was wondering, I mean if you wanted to, of course you don’t have to, I was only suggesting but I’d really like it if you would,” Spencer rambled before cutting himself out with a groaning causing you to giggle.

“Are you asking me out?” You asked, cheeks flushing as you asked.

“I’m trying to,” he told you, “but I’m not very good at this.”

“Just ask.” You told him softly.

“Would you like to go out with me?” He asked after taking a deep and calming breath.

“I’d love to.” You grinned, thankful that the man had made a move. You wouldn’t have risked asking him on the chance that you were reading him wrong and he didn’t like you but thankfully he had taken it into his own hands.

“Good. Great. That, that’s great.” He repeated, a soft grin spreading across his face causing you to giggle as the doors opened.

The two of you walked out together and there was a moment of awkward silence before Spencer dipped his head down to kiss your cheek, making your blush even more prominent.

You looked so pretty when you blushed, Spencer thought.

“I’ll call you.” He promised.

“I hope so.” You replied before heading towards your car, when you turned around you saw Spencer still stood by the doors with a smile still on his face. You giggled to yourself but couldn’t stop smiling yourself if you tried.

Spencer Reid was something else and you couldn’t wait to learn everything about that wonderful man.

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ericspinkhair · 3 years

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dirty thoughts from a distance

pairing: dom!changmin x virgin!reader, best friends to lovers, college au!

synopsis: you masturbate while thinking of your best friend and he catches you moan out his name

word count: 3.8k

warnings: maybe slight angst, (getting caught) masturbating, mutual masturbation, sex in general ig

a/n: y'all are crazyy! it has barely been 19 days and I have already hit 100 followers🤧 thank you guys so much for your support and sending in requests!!! everytime I see leave me nice messages I feel so encouraged to keep on writing even though there is still a lot of room to improve and I am not always completely satisfied with what I create. I wish all of you a great day and hope that you stay happy and healthy!!

this chapter is especially dedicated to @bangcrispychannie and anon who requested this kind of scenario ❤️

masterlist + requests

for three years you wondered why you hadn't lost your virginity yet. it's not like you didn't have enough opportunities since you had been in two relationships so far, both lasted about five to seven months.

the feelings in your first relationship were been mostly one-sided however.

when a guy in your biology class named Minho confessed his crush for you, you thought that the only logical next step was to become a couple. you were quite flattered that he had taken such an interest in you and believed and hoped you would eventually develop feelings for him as well. the problem was you didn't. after not being able to be emotionally let alone physically intimate with him for a few months into your relationship, he finally confronted you and you confessed that you just couldn't bring yourself to see him that way. your relationship came to an end just before becoming a senior in high school.

in your last year, you got close with Seonghwa. you were seat neighbors in your english class and you'd chat all the time. he was perfectly sweet, smart and funny and you instantly got along just fine. you developed an interest in him and he seemed to feel the same way. he asked you out with a beautiful bouquet of flowers and some chocolate and you agreed to being his girlfriend without much thought. you caught yourself falling in love with this boy and didn't shy away from physical affection such as kissing and holding hands. you were convinced you were ready to give yourself to him during prom night but when it came to it you chickened out. a couple of hours before, you had found out that your best friend changmin had broken up with his girlfriend of six months.

for a long time you hadn't been able to decipher why you hadn't slept with Seonghwa then. as time passed, the unpleasant answer became clearer and clearer: you had brought up your hopes.

you had been best friends with changmin basically since you started elementary school. on the first day, he scared you with a stupid horror mask he had sneaked in from home and made you cry. he felt so guilty and was determined to make it up to you and to become friends. you had been inseparable ever since.

when he got his first girlfriend in junior year you were devastated. you convinced yourself that the reason for that was that you had been scared he was going to replace you as his best friend but in reality you had felt jealousy.

you were suppressing your feelings because if you confessed, things might become awkward. there was no way changmin could ever like you the same way.

all of this became more difficult as you moved in together for college. you were sharing an apartment now and every day, it became harder to avoid your growing and troublesome feelings. your heart would beat faster whenever he walked around shirtless (which was most of the time) and you decided to try to ignore him. this was especially difficult since you wanted to appreciate his physique. when had he become this handsome? changmin had been dancing all his life so he had always been fit but now that he was majoring in it and training most of the time, his body had developed and he had become super toned and his abs were more prominent.

he'd often make his way into your dreams and you'd let him do inappropriate things with you. you'd wake up wet and needy and even more confused. you were ashamed of seeing him this way. this was not how one normally thought about their best friend.

it was a wednesday morning and you were eating breakfast when changmin joined you in the kitchen. he flashed you a big smile, making his pretty dimples appear which you didn't see as you did not look at him.

'good morning, y/n!' he greeted you in a good mood. you just grunted in response, intensely staring at the cereal swimming in your bowl.

the fact that you couldn't even spare him a glance hurt changmin but he tried to not let it show. he wanted to get you to talk to him.

'do you want to watch a movie and play some board games today after class?' he proposed. you hadn't spent a lot of time together ever since you had become aware of your feelings.

'I have an essay due tomorrow,' you quickly made up as an excuse. the corners of changmin's mouth twitched but you didn't notice as you were too preoccupied with doing anything that didn't include looking at him.

'then maybe on the weekend. or next-' 'I'll be busy,' you interjected. 'I have lots to do.' you stressed the lots to emphasize there was absolutely no way you would be able to hang out with him any time soon.

'umm… okay. I'll be going to class.' he told you dejected. your heart sank but you didn't respond. he was wondering whether he had done anything to make you upset but he couldn't wrap his mind around it. this had been going on for a while and he was starting to become desperate.

when you first got the apartment you spent every free minute of the day together, happy that you finally moved out and could be with each other 24/7, but then you stopped talking to him completely out of nowhere. from one day to the other, you would avoid leaving your room when he was outside and barely talked to him anymore. at first, changmin thought you were just stressed and that you'd eventually warm up again when exam season came to an end but a few months had passed and, if anything, the situation was even worse than before.

you were watching the time and after ten minutes you decided to leave for classes as well. you had started doing this so you couldn't possibly catch up to him and risk having a conversation.

'hey, y/n, what's up!' your friend chanhee hugged you when you arrived on campus. you were both majoring in fashion design and were getting along on well since the beginning of the first semester.

you sighed exasperatedly. 'changmin's up.' you puffed your cheeks and pouted. chanhee nodded knowingly. he was the only person who was aware of your little secret and that was only because you had accidentally drunk confessed the whole story to him at your first college party.

'you know maybe you should tell him. this whole thing is clearly not making you happy and I saw changmin walk by a few minutes ago. if I had to guess I'd say he was in an even worse mood than you. someone accidentally ran into him and he pushed them hard and called them names. it's not like him to overreact like this. he's usually super collected. I think you finally managed to break his spirit,' chanhee reported to you.

this had never been what you intended. why did everything have to be so difficult? you didn't want to be the cause of your best friend's unhappiness.

'he must feel like I despise him. but I cannot confess to him, that would be the end of our friendship!' you were constantly torn apart by this dilemma.

'well, if you're not gonna act on your feelings, maybe try to move on? find something casual or serious with someone new? then you'd forget all about changmin and you'd be able to go back to acting normal around him' he suggested.

chanhee's advice didn't sound too bad. if you couldn't get with changmin then you had to de-crush yourself and find somebody different to focus your emotional energy on. but on who?

'is there anyone you could think of?' you ask chanhee. he had great taste in practically everything so you highly valued his opinion.

'hmm, you could potentially try younghoon hyung? I've seen him eyeing you for weeks now and he even told me thinks your gorgeous.' he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly.

younghoon was a pretty art student, whom chanhee knew from high school. you didn't talk to him often, mostly at parties and he wasn't exactly your type but you tried to remember shouldn't judge him by his first impression when you haven't even got to know him.

chanhee pulled out his phone and soon you felt yours vibrate in your back pocket. you looked at him questioningly.

'I sent you his number in case you're interested,' he explained proudly. he put his hand on your shoulder and you could see the concern in his eyes. 'you really need to get over changmin if don't want to confess,' he insisted firmly.

so you decided to text younghoon during class. he was very polite and you thought he was cute as he seemed excited to talk to you. you agreed to hang out sometime to get to know each other and decided to meet up friday for dinner.

after the end of your classes, you walked home to warm up yesterday's leftovers. to your dismay, changmin had also decided to come home for once. since you began acting all weird and refused to eat with him, he usually spent lunch time with his dance mates as they had practice after anyway. why had he decided to come here today? your question was answered when he ran up to you, smiling from ear to ear and you noticed he was hiding something behind his back.

'you know how there is a blackpink concert downtown on friday? guess what!' he held up two tickets. surely you would at least agree to spend time with him if it meant being able to see your favorite group, right?

he must have gone through so much trouble to get tickets for you and since blackpink were your favorite music artists you were actually contemplating on going but then you remembered you had made plans.

'I can't. I'm going out with younghoon friday night.'

'kim younghoon?' he raised an eyebrow skeptically.

'why would you to be spending time together? I didn't know he was even talking to you,' he questioned you. anger was boiling inside of you.

'maybe it's because you don't know everything about me,' you snapped at him. you were aware that you were being harsh but somehow his words hurt you. why did he doubt you? did he think you weren't able to get with someone as awesome and popular as younghoon? did he not consider you pretty enough?

the microwave beeped, indicating your food was ready, making you snap out of your thoughts.

'y/n, I swear, that's not what I meant.' he stepped directly in front of you so you were forced to look at him. you stared deep into his pleading eyes as you closed the microwave door, turned your back to him, stomped to your room and slammed the door shut, leaving changmin behind in the kitchen.

your whole body was tense as you listened closely to any sounds coming from outside and felt relieved when you heard the front door close. feeling sad and depressed always made you feel tired so you decided to take a nap to forget about all the negative feelings.

when you woke up you were horny af. you had a dream about changmin taking you on the kitchen counter and now your panties were completely soaked with your arousal.

desperate, you pulled them down and tossed them somewhere to the side. it didn't matter. you needed relief now.

you closed your eyes as you slowly started rubbing your clit, imagining it was changmin's slender fingers touching you instead. your imagination was running wild and you sped up the tempo.

eventually, you plunged your middle finger and then your index finger inside you, pretending that changmin was stretching your walls with his cock.

you moaned loudly and picked up the pace, chasing your high. oh, how much you wished he was the one making you come.

'yes?' you opened your eyes and gasped loudly as you saw changmin watching you from the doorway. you hecticly pulled up your blankets to your chest to cover your naked lower body. for how fucking long had he been standing there?

'oh fuck, changmin...' you cursed out loud.

to your surpise he laughed. 'oh, is this why you have been so distant? were you embarrassed about imagining doing dirty things with me?' your cheeks were burning red and you were unable to move a muscle.

'you know, if you had told me you were thinking of me while doing it then I could've helped you out already. that would have spared both of us a lot of frustration.' he stepped into the room and pulled the sheets away, his hungry eyes fixed on your desperately dripping pussy. you tried to hide it with your hands.

'n-no… what are you saying? aren't we best friends? ' you couldn't comprehend what was happening right now. the way he was acting was so unexpected that you didn't know how to react or what to say. he brushed his hand over your burning cheeks. his eyes were conveying disparity.

'but what if I told you I don't care? that I like you? that I see you as more than just my best friend?'

'wait, you like me?' you couldn't believe your ears. was he actually reciprocating your feelings?

he groaned in exasperation. 'y/n, why did you think I ended things with my ex out of the blue?' you shrugged your shoulders as you weren't sure. you had thought it was because she had lost interest in him, at least that's what changmin had told you back then.

'because I realized I was in love you, you dumbass. how could I be together with someone if I had feelings for someone else?'

'I actually ruined my chances of having sex with seonghwa for the first time for the same reason. it was just after I had found out about the breakup,' you confessed, relieved that you were finally beginning to make sense of everything.

he climbed onto the mattress and positioned his knees next to your closed legs, leaning his hands on the wall behind you so that he was hovering above you.

'I'm sorry that you lost that opportunity. let me make it up to you,' he whispered with his face mere inches from yours and then kissed you. losing all self-restraint, you immediately pulled his body closer so that he was straddling you. after all these months filled with sexual frustration and just frustration in general, you were desperate for his touch. your hands wandered under his dance shirt and you were finally able to touch those abs you had been secretly admiring for so long.

you broke the kiss to take off both of your shirts and changmin skillfully unclasped your bra.

while his tongue was exploring the insides of your mouth, his hands were kneading your breasts, occasionally rubbing and pinching your hardened nipples. you felt his hard dick press against your lower abdomen as he grinded himself into you to get friction.

after having dreamt about this moment for so long, you felt impatient. this was too good to be true and you were scared that if you didn't act quick, your bubble would bust.

without thinking twice about it, you pulled down the hem of his sweatpants and boxers just far enough so you could easily reach inside and whip out his dick. you stopped for a moment to admire his length. it looked even better than you had ever imagined in any of your wildest dreams.

he sat upright, leaning on the wall behind you, while you stroked his cock. he was sensitive to your touch and not shy to show you how well you were doing by responding with moans.

'fuck, y/n. you're doing amazing.' his praise made you eager to show him just how good you could make him feel. your lack of experience was barely noticeable as the adrenaline flowing through your veins was guiding you.

you tapped his thighs to signalize him to inch closer. that way your mouth had easier access to his dick. you hesitantly licked up his length and were fascinated by how he tasted. wanting to have more of it, you swirl your tongue around his pink tip. changmin eventually became impatient and forced more of his dick inside your mouth so you tried to take as much of him as you could but your gag reflex made it difficult for you. instead, you worked your hands where your mouth couldn't do its job.

not wanting you to feel neglected, changmin reached behind him to stimulate your clit. he skillfully started rubbing all the right places and you moaned around him, sending vibrations through his cock.

he couldn't take this stimulation for much longer before he had to force himself to pull out of your mouth.

'wow, you almost made me come there.' he panted heavily. 'but I want to be inside you first.' you got lost in his touch as he placed a long kiss on your lips but a sudden thought brought you back to reality.

'wait, I don't have a condom,' you informed him embarrassed. you hadn't planned to lose your virginity any time soon so you hadn't bought any. did that mean the end of this wonderful dream?

but changmin laughed light heartedly. 'no need to worry. hold up, let me get some from my room.' you relaxed again as he disappeared and came back shortly with a condom wrapper in his hand.

you were prepared for him to start right away and took a deep breath in preparation but he didn't do anything.

'I don't think it's a good idea to start yet since I haven't even prepared you. the last thing I would want to do is hurt you so just lay back.'

he positioned your legs over his shoulders so your hips were hovering in the air. you felt his warm breath against your vagina before he drove his tongue inside you, seeing for himself how wet he had made you and tasting your arousal. you clasped your hands over your mouth to stop yourself from releasing any sounds.

'don't do that. I want to hear how good I make you feel,' changmin complained.

when he slid two fingers inside you, you couldn't hold it in anymore and let out some kind of aroused squeal. you felt self-conscious but it seemed like changmin was only more eager to please you.

at the same time, his tongue was abusing your swollen clit and it was impossible for you to hold back the curses that were spilling out of your mouth. the pleasure he was making you feel was a whole different sensation from anything else you've experienced before.

'more please, changmin!' you begged. you wanted more. you needed more. you needed him.

he carefully lowered your hips back down. 'are you sure you want this?' he asked you, waiting for you to clearly consent to having sex with him.

'I want you. you, and only you,' you reassured him and brought his face closer to kiss him. changmin's typical bright smile formed and you felt the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

he positioned himself at your entrance, swiping his dick between your folds like a credit card to coat it with your juices.

you gripped his arms tightly as he pushed in. he slowly continued until all of him was buried deep inside you before stopping. the feeling of a whole penis inside of you was very different from your or changmin's fingers. it filled you up to the brim and was rubbing all the good spots. while it initially caused you a bit of discomfort, it wasn't overwhelming and it also felt good in a weird way.

when your walls finished adjusting to his length, he began to steadily move his dick in and out.

changmin intensely studied your face. he couldn't believe that after all those years you were finally close to being his. he wanted to savor every single expression you made while he was inside you.

you wrapped your legs around his torso, trying to push him deeper. he slammed his cock back inside you.

'you are mine,' he declared and started going harder and faster.

'I am yours,' you confirmed and wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a kiss.

because of the extensive foreplay and your own masturbation prior to this, it didn't take long until your walls were tightening around his dick and you felt an orgasm approaching.

driven wild by you clenching around his cock, he thrusted into you even faster. you rested your sweaty foreheads against each other as both of you almost came simultaneously.

changmin kissed the top of your head before he pulled out and threw away the used condom. you opened your arms and he let himself fall right into your embrace.

'I know this might be kind of weird to talk about right now but do you want to be my girlfriend?' Changmin asked you. he still wasn't too sure what all of this meant for your relationship and he desperately needed to know where your mind was at.

'after having liked you for all this time I'd be an idiot to say no.' 'you're an idiot anyway,' he teased. you slapped his arm.

'hey! I'm not the one who ignored you for a couple of months because my hormones are out of control.' you hid your face in the crook of his neck, too embarrassed face him.

'I'm really sorry for that. you just mean so much to me and I didn't want my feelings to get in the way of our friendship.' he stroked your hair.

'I do understand that. if I hadn't heard you moan my name today I wouldn't have acted on my feelings either. but all is good now, right?' 'right.' you smiled and placed a small kiss below his ear.

'there is still one thing you need to do,' changmin tried to remind you. you looked at him, puzzled.

'what do you mean?' 'younghoon,' he hinted. you immediately started looking for your phone. that date was definitely going to have to be cancelled. there was no need for you to find a distraction anymore since you had been granted your wish after all.

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 3 years

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A chatty writing update | novels, short fiction, etc!

Hi folks!

It’s been a while since I last wrote an update on this blog! I thought it’d be fun to go back to basics, and just talk about writing. This post chats about: new plans for Feeding Habits, my newest novel, my short story goals & growing collection, along with process reflections.

(image description: a photo of green leaves with the text “writing update” in a white font written on top. /end image description)

Post starts under the cut!

General taglist (please ask to be added or removed)

@if-one-of-us-falls, @qatarcookie, @chloeswords, @alicewestwater, @laughtracksonata, @shylawrites, @ev–writes, @jaydewritesfiction, @jennawritesstories @eowynandfaramir, @august-iswriting, @aetherwrites, @avakrahn, @maisulli

What have I been up to?

For starters, I finished my second year of my Writing undergrad last week and got two of my final grades back today (A+ baby)! For anyone who has taken online university, y’all already KNOW, but this year was so difficult. Would not recommend! Really proud of myself to have gotten through this absolute rollercoaster of a school term and am excited to get into some writing. That leads us to:

What have I been up to (writing edition)?

2021 started off so fast. By the time January hit, I was so consumed in my new semester that I did not have time to write Feeding Habits (my novel). In the first few days of the term, I managed to write between class, until I could no longer keep up! Essentially, I did not write any of that novel until exam season (last week), where I did manage to get in about 3k words in ~4 days.

Feeding Habits

I’m currently drafting what I believe will be the last chapter of this book (chapter 10: Swan Song). This chapter is so bizarre for a few reasons. It begins the book’s third part and also marks the shift back into Lonan’s head from Harrison’s. I originally thought this part would be much, much longer, with at least another five chapters to go, but quickly realized the book’s content was nearly completed. In my 4 day 3k palooza, I hit 50k in the book (the word count goal), and couldn’t see myself extending past 60k. Since then, I’ve made the loose decision to write this final chapter as a ~novella. Here are a few reasons why:

1. This chapter is structurally very strange.

I unashamedly shift from present to past to present to past past, and so much more every 12 words. I mapped out the timeline on a sheet of paper, and there were over 20 shifts in scenes (the chapter is only about 4400 words at the moment). The fictive past is incredibly important to this chapter, more important than the present, and I thought it would make more sense to not break randomly for a chapter so I could upkeep the consistent inconsistency of the chapter.

2. The chapter is very abstract

This stems from the structural changes, but there are paragraphs in this chapter of the fictive present that are loosely based in reality. They’re more poems than they are factual paragraphs, and keeping them all contained in one place (so a mega chapter/ novella) would reduce the most confusion!

3. There’s not much left to cover

Like I said above, Feeding Habits is on its last leg, lol! I know exactly where the book needs to end up, which is very, very soon from where I’m currently at on the timeline. Swan Song should cover what 2-4 chapters would cover in terms of arcs.

Feeding Habits and I have a really weird relationship, tbh! When I realized a few weeks ago that it’d been over a year since I started the book, I realized I just needed to finish it. Not that I want to rush (because I’ve taken longer than a year to write a book in the past), but that in order to move onto another project, I’d like to put this one behind first. This book has been the hardest thing I’ve ever written, and has reminded me there’s always a time to let go. This sort of scrounges up a conversation about letting this entire series go, which is certainly something I’ve been contemplating doing soon(ish). If this spinoff series gets a third book, that may or may not be the last Fostered book for a very long time (or ever)! There are many complex reasons to move on, but the main one is that I have other projects I’d like to focus on. This is not a definitive decision, but something I’ve certainly been thinking about!

Here are a few excerpts I wrote recently:

(TW: death, gore)

Dying feels like being a trout dangled out of water. Clinging to a hook. Mouth open. Scales iridescent in a final death cry. It’s like blood spurting up the knuckles, drowning out the flesh. It’s that moment on the long fall down when the clouds cup the body. Easy drifting. The sound a skull makes when it cracks is really just the afterthought.

(TW: death, gore)

Kill shot. Death blow. Coup de grace. Right in the heart. He feels it. The blood swelling, slicking his palms. He can do it. Reach into the cavity. Feel for the ribs. Part each bone. Then cup the humming heart. Stay there. Right. It’s never been easier.

Look at this PURE moment of Lonan holding a baby I CANNOT:

The grocery store was a fifteen-minute walk away. With Olivia clinging to his shoulder, Lonan was acutely aware that she could feel his heartbeat. Open valve. Close. Repeat. Hers pulsed right above his, a miniature drumming. The sky had bruised purple, misted with clouds. The evening air nipped his cheeks, so he made sure Olivia was securely fastened between him and his jacket. With wide eyes, she absorbed the drowsy suburbia, all its family cars pulling into driveways, all its couples heading back home after a sunset walk. When Lonan passed a young boy walking two golden retrievers, Olivia giggled, and didn’t stop, even after he’d spent fifty dollars on groceries and nearly the rest on a red Corolla marked with a MUST GO NOW sign outside a convenience store.

Let’s move on!

Mandy and Cora

I said I wouldn’t talk too much about this project, but I just love it so much?? I wanted to share my SUPER early thoughts on drafting a novel, especially one that is SO different from what I’ve been writing recently. I talked about this before in THIS post, but the summary about this project is that it’s a YA contemporary novel! Can’t believe I’m writing YA again, it’s been so long, but I also think it’s going so well. Everything I’ve learned as a literary fiction writer has been a fantastic primer for transferring back to the genre. Admittedly, I have not written much, but I’m having a lot of fun diving back into a lighter project. This is the summary:

Cora and Mandy are identical twins who’ve always done everything together. But when Mandy decides to go to university out of province after graduation and Cora doesn’t, Cora takes this as an opportunity to “test run” life apart from her sister for the first time by spending the summer at her aunt’s house across the country.

I have come up with a few ~things since I last talked about this project, mostly how I’d like to structure it. As of now, I’d like the book to be structured super loosely. I’m really pulling on a lot of inspo from “We Are Okay” by Nina LaCour (which is SO good), particularly how “nothing happens-y” that book is. This project (which I still need a title for!!) will be structured in short chapters that cover something Cora does on her own for the first time (without Mandy). For example, a few ideas are “Flight”, “Lunch”, and “Groceries”. “Flight” is the first “chapter” (they’re really kind of vignettes) where Cora flies to her aunt’s house. I still can’t determine if this book will take place in Canada. On one hand, I feel like there will be a wider audience if it takes place in the US (is that just an assumption??? maybe?? someone let me know!), but also: don’t really care too much about an audience at the moment! It could also take place in Canada (So Ontario and British Columbia). But if it does take place in the US, I think it may take place in NYC and San Francisco. The problem is: I really don’t like researching lol, and while I’ve been to NYC many times, I will definitely write it wrong! Does this really matter on a first draft?? absolutely not lol, but of course I am already overthinking!

But back to structure: I am looking forward to seeing what this looser structure will do. This is a story that is solely around one half of a set of twins learning to be her own person (and ultimately that she doesn’t have to completely forget her sister in order to do that), and as a twin who KNOWS this feeling, I think this structure of her doing things for the first time is SUPER relatable.

I was worried it might sound silly/worrying to others who are not twins that Cora hadn’t done things like “lunch” or “groceries” on her own, but I feel this so much as an identical twin myself! Not that she hasn’t done anything at all by herself, but as a twin, when you do something without your twin for the first few times, at least in my experience, you notice. If any twins are reading this--weigh in!

This story is the most personal thing I’ve ever written. It definitely is an OwnVoices book! Usually, I avoid details that are remotely similar to me because they make me uncomfortable haha, but with this book, it’s all me, lol! The characters are all Guyanese, which is SO fun because I’ve been planning what they eat (my fellow Caribbean peeps know: the FOOD!), which is so fun (yes they have pumpkin and shrimp, yes they have roti, yes they have pera, yes they have mithai). Every time I’ve gone to dabble at this book, or even think about it, I get incredibly emotional for this reason? I don’t exactly know why. I think this is a story I just so want to tell, with the culture I love SO much that I definitely struggled to love as a child. This is reclamation bitchessss!

Not going to lie tho: the prospect of writing ~a book~ is kind of freaky! I’m going to make the minimum word count for this book pretty short (50k) and see where it goes from there. I think I will focus on this project this summer! Originally I was going to write a literary novel this summer, but I think this one’s calling my name!

Here’s a pretty rough excerpt:

Try. I remind myself that’s what I’m doing after the flight attendant fills me a disposable cup of Coca Cola and all I can think of is Mandy and I shoving Mentos into a bottle of the stuff when we were twelve. Just me, wedged in the middle seat between an exchange student heading out for summer break and a middle-aged woman sipping a cocktail, thinking of Mandy and I bursting whole oranges in a blender when we were bored one Winter break as the plane dips through a wave of turbulence. Mandy and I dying our hair neon green with highlighters (didn’t work—our hair is too dark) as the plane lands on the tarmac. Mandy and I arguing so loud last month, we both lost our voices as I lug my carry-on out of the overhead compartment and shuffle off the plane and through the airport, searching for Aunt Vel.

Short Fiction

I’ve written so much short fiction this year! I have a goal to write a short story a month (they can range in length, as long as 1 is “complete”), so my short story brain has seriously been soaking it all up lately. Let’s chat my month to month breakdown so far:

January:

I wrote four stories in January! The first is a flash fiction piece called “Shark Swimming” that follows a young woman who attends a shark swimming class after breaking up with her girlfriend. I wrote this story for a “test” workshop for my fiction class, and it was based off the prompt “think about something you’re afraid to do and make the character do that thing”. I’m not particularly afraid of sharks, but had been wanting to use the title “Shark Swimming” for AGES (literally since 2018).

This story is one of my favourites. It’s only about 900 words, but I think there’s something profound in how mundanely specific it is. The entire story doesn’t even see the narrator swim with sharks once; it actually takes place fully in the sanctuary’s lobby. But I really love this narrator. This is the first story I’ve written in second person in a while, though I felt really connected to the unnamed narrator. She struggles with accepting that she truly is a “boring” person, and there’s something about the final image that really gets me!

I’ve been submitting this around, though it’s been rejected a handful of times. Hoping I can secure it at a magazine one day because I really love it!

The second story is “Joanne, I’ll Pray for You” which is actually a rewrite of one of my very first short stories (the first story I did not write for a class haha), “NYC in Your Apartment”. I LOVE this rewrite a lot, and also learned the original is not a very good short story! Revising this story taught me just how much I’ve learned in the 2 years I’ve been writing short fiction. Seeing the 2019 version versus the 2021 version side by side is fascinating because I essentially “gutted’ the 2019 version of its beginning and end until all that was left was the middle of the story (aka the actual story). AKA: this is the only story I’ve ever written with a hopeful ending and I cut out all the happy bits lol I am SO sorry (that arc is more for a novel or novella). That’s how this went from a 5k word story to an 1800 word story (my Submittable thanks me for this lol). A lot of details and scenes I included were more pertinent to a 3 act structure/novel, which of course short stories don’t often have because of their brevity. I love rambling about writing theory, and seeing that actually pay off is so fascinating!

(TW: trauma)

Like the original, this story follows Joanne, a woman in her early twenties, who spontaneously breaks up with her boyfriend. She claims the poltergeist haunting her drove her to this decision. The original draft focused a lot more on the traumatic events Joanne survives, but this draft really loosens them up. It focuses less so on the events themselves, and more on how Joanne’s life is affected. I found the details of these events were less important, and even sort of contradicted Joanne’s insistence she is being haunted. Instead, the poltergeist really takes more precedence in the new draft as a force Joanne doesn’t understand. That ambiguity, I think, is what the story truly needed.

I also centralized Joanne’s relationship with her boyfriend, Julian, here. Now don’t get me wrong, I really didn’t add anything to this draft. It was a matter of trimming the fat around it to leave the lean “meat” in the centre. But by removing that fat, I was able to emphasize what was most important here, and that was her relationship. Julian always played a really big role in the original draft, but I feel like his role as both a friend and partner to Joanne is much more emphasized since this draft literally is only two scenes now. Because there is less, there is more room for Joanne to reflect, which I’m happy about!

A final change I made was the setting and therefore the title. The original, which was “NYC in Your Apartment,” I couldn’t keep because I shifted the setting to Toronto (this is how I originally saw it, but in 2019 I just?? couldn’t?? write?? canlit??), and “Toronto in Your Apartment” sounded sort of gross LOL. The new title comes from a line in the story which I think is more relevant to the themes!

The next short story I wrote in January was “How to Spell Alpaca.” This one is super fun because I wrote it SO fast (in about 15 minutes or so). THIS is the writing update if you’re interested in learning more. I talked extensively about this one in that update, but some developments are that I dove into an edit a few weeks ago to really understand the core of the story. I’m still not quite there (this is just an intuitive feeling; I know not everything has “clicked), but I am really intrigued by the two mothers in the story, the narrator, and her newfound acquaintance, Violet. Both really struggle to understand their place as mothers (the narrator even declares she isn’t a mother anymore). The narrator, who is in her 50s, sees herself in Violet, who is much younger (~20s), and so she views Violet’s relationship with her daughter in a cautionary, yet mournful way, like she can see it will end up like her own relationship with her daughter, despite wanting the opposite. This is a really subtle story. I feel like if you blink, you’ll miss the message. But I think it’s compelling for that reason. It’s really a portrait of parenting and how to grapple with mistakes you may make that inevitably affect your children. Wow just unlocked the theme writing this lol.

The final story I wrote in January is “The Party,” which may be in my top 3 faves I’ve ever written. This story follows Aida, a recent divorcee in her ~40s. The day her divorce turns official, she moves into a new house and receives a party invitation addressed to the previous homeowner, yet RSVP’s anyway. At this party, she’s hoping to find some sense of noticeability, having struggled with being nondescript her whole life. Things seem quite normal at the party, until it gets bizarre.

I LOVE this story, y’all. Like “How to Spell Alpaca” it really delves into motherhood. Aida, our narrator, is incredibly hurt after her divorce. She now lives farther from her children she struggled to feel connected to in the first place, and doesn’t really know how to reignite her life. This party is a means to do that. This is the first story I’ve written that contains a “twist” which is strange because I really prefer stories that give us as much info as possible upfront, but yes, this one sort of twists.

February

I wrote one story in February, and that was “Protect the Young.” This title is SO changing when I think of a new one because it’s thematically incorrect, haha, but this story follows a woman in her late 40s whose daughter, Lindy, announces she is married the same day all their backyard chickens turn up dead. The discovery of dead chickens prompts our narrator to recall her ex-husband’s murder and the role her daughter may have played in his death.

I love this story so much! I think this would make a great closing for my short story collection. It just has that vibe! I wrote this for my second fiction workshop. I thought I had to hand in the story a week earlier than I had to, so I panicked and wrote this in one sitting! Little did I know, I did not need to do that lol but I’m very happy because this story is so fun. We get to learn more about Arnold (her ex), his relationship with Lindy, and how that translates to Lindy’s relationship with her new husband, Malcolm. I LOVE true crime (I listen to about 3-4 hours of case coverage daily), and this is my first “true crime” story. Because of that, I’m very sus of a few details that probably wouldn’t slide in actual investigatory work, so I’ll also be working on that in a revision. My professor also gave me a great suggestion that may alter the story’s structure a bit, though I look forward to toggling with it in the future.

March

In March, I was really on a Criminal Minds kick lol. I’ve been watching this show since I was seven (oops), and dove into a rewatch since it hit Disney+! This story, “Where to Run When the Lamb Roars,” is very clearly Rachel watching 5 episodes of CM a day. Oops! We follow 14-year-old Astrid as she and her older half brother kidnap a young girl to sacrifice for their yearly ritual.

I knew a few things going into this story, but the main thing was that I did NOT want to show any details of a potential murder (if one even occurs). I really wanted to keep all of those elements off the page because this story is not about those events, but about Astrid’s relationship with her brother. They are a murderous duo, with Astrid actually being the dominant partner. I wanted to explore that. I knew her brother, Fox, was more of a submissive partner in their team, even when he used to do this same thing with his father when he was much younger (chilling!), and so it was a task to explore how this young girl’s desire for violence works. The end actually comes right before the story starts, one could say, but I like it for this reason. It really made me contemplate the story by the time I finished it, and helped me examine what it really was about versus what it appeared to be about.

April

(TW: sexual content, non explicit)

I was so busy this month! Who knows if I’ll write a story last minute, but I did write one story this month called “Five Times Fast.” I wrote this during a “writing sprint” that was being hosted at a flash fiction workshop I recently took with one of my favourite writers ever, K-Ming Chang. I learned so much from this class, and am so happy I came out of it with a draft! This story is just over 300 words, so the shortest flash I’ve ever written, but I’m really happy with it. It was based off the prompt “describe the last time you or your character was naked.” In this case, the narrator has a “friends with benefits” relationship with Ricky who works at a laundromat. This story highlights a moment in this relationship (and also Ricky’s goofy personality lol). I really like it! Hopefully I’ll submit it to some magazines soon.

My short story collection

Very briefly I wanted to touch on my short story collection which I’ve titled “She is Also Dead.” I’ve been meaning to make a blog post on this, so look out for that in the coming months, but this collection is already at around 35k words (about 14 stories so far). The collection also surprisingly has a solid amount of flash fiction which is kind of fun! There’s definitely a range here, which is what I personally love in short story collections.

I feel very professional now that I have a ~collection chart. This is her:

(image description: A chart with the title “She is Also Dead.” It is broken into four columns: Story, Status, Word Count, and Published. Entry 1 - Story: Slaughter the Animal. Status: Revisions, Word Count, 3982, Published: N/A. Entry 2 - Story: Joanne, I’ll Pray for You, Status: Polished, Word Count: 1809, Published: N/A. Entry 3 - Story: Primary Organs, Status: Published, Word Count: 2342, Published: The Malahat Review. Entry 4 - Story: Faberge, Status, Polished, Word Count: 619, Published: N/A. Entry 5 - Story: The Wolf-Antelope Will Not Come for Us, Status, Polished, Word Count: 1556, Published: filling Station (forthcoming). Entry 6 - Story: How to Spell Alpaca, Status: revisions, Word Count: 1327, Published: N/A. Entry 7 - Story: Blink Twice for Final Judgement, Status: Polished, Word Count: 6572, Published: N/A. Entry 8 - Story: The Species is Dead, Status: Published, Word Count: 1208, Published: Minola Review. Entry 9 - Story: Shark Swimming, Status: Polished, Word Count: 907, Published: N/A. Entry 10 - Story: The Party, Status, Polished, Word Count 2339, Published: N/A. Entry 11 - Story: Fig, Status: Polished, Word Counter: 947, Published: N/A. Entry 12 - Story: Protect the Young, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4128, Published: N/A. Entry 13 - Story: Where to Run When the Lamb Roars, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 2174, Published: N/A. Entry 14 - Story: Phantom Limbs, Status: Revisions, Word Count: 4844, Published: N/A.) /end image description.

This order is DEFINITELY not permanent (at this point whenever I write a story, I just fit it randomly into this chart lol), and some of the info is outdated (for example, Slaughter the Animal is now polished!!! thank god!!!). But just an idea of what I’m thinking of including.

This is the summary so far:

In SHE IS ALSO DEAD, characters are pushed to act on their gravest impulses. A small town turns murderous when their local invasive species, the Janices, begin dying. A child struggles to understand her mother’s suicide. A college dropout who insists she’s being haunted by a poltergeist unexpectedly breaks up with her boyfriend. A mother acknowledges her daughter’s murderous tendencies after her backyard chickens mysteriously die. A young girl caters the funeral of a girl rumored to be killed by a wolf-antelope. A newly-divorced mother RSVP’s to a bizarre party she was not invited to, and a murderous brother and sister upkeep their yearly tradition of abducting a young girl. These stories follow characters who navigate death, violent desires, womanhood, and loss, both self-imposed and otherwise.

This is also so subject to change as I may pull and add stories to the collection!

I think I’m going to leave this update here for now! I’ve written TONS of poetry too, but I honestly ~hate my poetry right now lol, so! Hope you enjoyed this chill rambly update. Hope writing has going well for you all! All the best!

--Rachel

#writing #writeblr #writerblr #amwriting #writingupdates

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stupid-sloot-headcanons · 3 years

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Asano/F!Darling: Unconventional Methods (IV)

The rest of the day had been uneventful, and as soon as ____ was on the train home she had messaged Asano with some tentative questions about his new teaching method. She had always felt like she needed to proofread her messages to him three or four times before they were good enough to send. She didn't want to risk saying something disrespectful or foolish to him of all people. It had taken the entire train ride for her to send her response.

From: ____

To: Asano-san

Thank you for sending me that previous message. I still feel uncomfortable slightly uncomfortable from our first lesson today (emotionally), but that's likely due to being a bit overwhelmed by a new kind of stress. I wanted to have some points clarified, if it's alright to ask: will all of my exposure to stress be physical or sexual? I ask because being sexual with my boss feels so wrong I've never thought about you this way before I'm a virgin stress of that nature isn't something that would occur in a classroom setting.

I also believe that I have other weaknesses that I need to improve on as a teacher besides my lack of confidence and ability to command authority. Would this method apply to other things besides building my tolerance to stress, eg. lesson planning, answering questions that students ask, creating reviews of material for exams?

I don't know if I can do this Thank you for your patience.

She had walked the entire route from the train station to her apartment with baited breath and a tension in her shoulders. Was she being too rude in asking these questions? He DID say he was okay with her asking questions. And how could she not, with an experimental method like this? She never thought she'd be kissed by Principal Asano like this, or touched like that--right in his office, on his desk no less. Just remembering it left her face warm and her head spinning.

____ turned the key into the lock and walked inside, kicking her shoes off and flopping onto her living room couch. "Ughhh," she groaned. "I want to shower and crawl into bed. And eat something warm and easy...in bed." Her phone buzzed and immediately she sat up straight to read Asano's reply. It was already difficult to gauge his emotions when he was in front of her, but hopefully he wouldn't seem upset in his message.

From: Asano-san

To: ____

Your lingering discomfort makes sense. I agree that this is due to this being your first lesson, and that you aren't used to this level or this kind of stress. I'm relieved that you aren't physically uncomfortable, however; even if you've had previous partners you've been intimate with, I was worried that I'd treated you too roughly without much preparation for it.

____ bit the inside of her cheek and squeezed her thighs together. He'd really had his fingers inside of her earlier...she almost couldn't believe it, as if it had happened to someone else. It didn't feel bad exactly, but the fact that it felt good somehow made the whole thing worse.

I agree that you have multiple weaknesses as a teacher, but I believe that your ability to handle stress is the most pressing issue. That's why this method will focus almost exclusively on exposing you to stress in multiple ways; if you're able to handle what I expose you to, then working in a classroom setting will be incredibly easy. I also want you to know how to adapt to stress not just as a teacher, but in everyday life. This teaching method will improve your abilities on a universal scale, if that makes sense. You deserve to have a better grasp on teaching and a better quality of life overall.

____ found herself smiling gently at her phone screen. All of his concern for her until now had been based on her skills as a teacher and employee; seeing him say that she was a good person and deserved a better life made her feel appreciated on a whole new level.

I've chosen to focus on physical stress based on what I assumed you had the least experience with. Since you told me you're virgin with little sexual experience, it seems my assumption was accurate. However, not all of the stressful situations you'll endure from these lessons will be sexual. As I stated earlier, I want to improve your tolerance to stress in every facet of your life. Sex and education are only two aspects of many.

Outside of our face-to-face lessons, I'd like to send you certain requests and messages. They'll be a way for you to practice responding to unexpected stress on a smaller scale. For example, I'd like you to send me a photo of where you are. A strange out of nowhere request, but one that's easy to fulfill compared to what you'll be dealing with in our lessons in person.

I also want you to tell me what your schedule is typically like before and after work. That way, I can make sure I send these requests to you when I know you'll be able to fulfill them even at unexpected times. When do you usually wake up and go to bed?

I look forward to our next lesson.

____ looked uncomfortably around her living room. He wanted a picture of where she was? She should probably tidy up a bit before taking a photo for him. After she hurriedly organized the magazines and other clutter on her coffee table, and gave the whole room a haphazard dusting, she snapped a photo of the view from her couch. It felt strange to take a picture of her living room to send to her boss, but the fact that it was a little strange was apparently the point of asking.

From: ____

To: Asano

I'm at home right now. On school days, I wake up at 6:30 to make sure I'm able to make the train to work on time; I go to bed at around 10 or 10:30, but I don't usually fall asleep until a while after that. On the weekends I don't set an alarm, but I tend to naturally wake up at 9:30 or 10:00 am. If I don't have plans the next day (I usually don't), I'll go to bed at 11pm or midnight.

____ quickly threw together a cup of ramen with some added fixings and plopped back onto the couch to read his reply.

Thank you for the prompt response. To reward you for completing your first outside assignment, I'll send you a photo to make things "even." Please excuse the slight mess.

____'s eyes widened a bit when she saw his picture. He was at some kind of polished and sleek desk that looked as if it had come straight out of an elite college library; the dozens of books on shelves in the corners of the picture definitely added to that aesthetic, along with the pristine shelves they were displayed on. There were a few papers splayed on the surface of the desk, as well as a few spare pens and a cup of tea on a coaster with an autumn leaf pattern. Did ____ even own a coaster? She looked at the ramen lying directly onto her slightly stained coffee table and cringed, and set it on top of one of her magazines. What mess was Asano even talking about? His room looked absolutely immaculate compared to her dingy little living room. An elite school principal's salary really wasn't something to sneeze at.

Before you go to sleep, send another photo. This time I want to see your bedroom. According to some behavioral psychologists like Gosling, an individual's home decor can provide insight into their unfiltered personality and state of mind; I'm curious to see what your room can show me about your true self, when you're alone and completely at ease.

I hope you get a good night's sleep.

____'s slight discomfort at sending a picture of her bedroom was quickly replaced by the growl of her stomach. She decided to wait until it was time for her to go to bed to answer his request and pulled up a video to watch while she ate her dinner. She didn't want to bother him with another text if he was busy working at his home office. As she slurped her noodles, she couldn't help but wonder what Principal Asano's bedroom was like. Probably just as pristine as the rest of his house, she assumed. He probably didn't eat much Cup Ramen for dinner, either. She shrugged and tuned out her thoughts as she enjoyed her cheap-and-easy dinner on her cheap-and-comfy couch. It's not like she'd ever get the chance to find out about his home life, anyway.

#.assassination classroom #yandere assassination classroom #.asano #yandere asano #.myshit #fem darling #asano's darling

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meliaaizawa · 3 years

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HITOSHI SHINSO

Sho and Mei first encountering one good boi, Hitoshi Shinso... I made it shorter than I was anticipating. Will obviously write more about Shinso later though.

*Meiya’s POV*

As I got through teaching class 1B, I walked down the halls of U.A. High to get to the teachers lounge. I lay down my papers and notes taken from class and stacked them neatly on my desk. It was now one of my favorite times of the day... lunchtime. I was the only teacher in the lounge right now, until I looked up to see Vlad King walk in. “Nice work today with my students, CC. They are still so far from being heroes, but that’s what the next three years will be for. I already think your talk on different quirks will help them in developing them further,” he said to me as he approached his own desk to set his things down. “Thanks, Vlad. I’ve been reading up on all of their individual quirks. Your class looks like it’ll be a fun one to work with!” I said, continuing the conversation. As the two of us talked, more and more of the teachers started to enter the lounge. It was still only the beginning of the third week of school, so we were all still getting into the groove of our new schedules. After dropping off their stuff, most of the teachers ended up going to the cafeteria. I was now talking to Ectoplasm when I saw my husband walk in and set his stuff at his desk next to mine. “Yeah, that sounds good to me!” I said to Ectoplasm as we made plans for karaoke on Friday night. I then went back over towards where Shota was standing at his desk, looking though his notes.

“Hey there, Sho, you ready for lunch?” I asked him. Still looking at his notes as he put them on his desk, he nodded and said, “mmhmm.” I pulled out our lunch cooler and grabbed his arm. “C’mon then! I’m starved,” I said, pulling him towards the door of the lounge. I let go as we entered the hall of students. It was known by all the teachers that we were married, but we always tried to keep our relationship among the students more private. It wasn’t necessarily a secret marriage or anything, but it was only rational to make sure the knowledge of it didn’t spread to the extent that villains would have any kind of leverage over us. We walked together to the stairs and walked all the way up to the roof. We sat on the ground across from each other and I unpacked our bento boxes from our lunch cooler and we began to eat. “You know, my class seemed to really be interested in your lecture today... you did good,” Shota began. In between bites I replied, “thanks, Sho... though I don’t know why you said I did good when you slept through the whole thing.” He grinned. “I didn’t need to hear it to know you did good. The students' bragging was enough to show it,” he said. “I see why you didn’t actually expel any of them this year, though... there’s a lot of potential in that bunch,” I said. “I’m glad you’re able to see that too,” he said before asking, “do you have any counseling sessions this afternoon?”

Apart from being the quirks teacher, I am also the “quirk counselor,” which pretty much means that I meet with any students that may have questions or need a better understanding of their quirk in a one-on-one setting. I love it because I get to know the kids on a more personal basis that way. “Yeah, I do!! Just one session, though... and it’s with a first year student from General Studies, so it should be interesting,” I answered him. The remainder of our lunch break flew by. It was never long enough, but I always enjoyed getting to hang out with Sho in the same spot we hung out as kids. We both headed back downstairs. Shota had a free period, as All Might was teaching class 1A. I, however, gathered the things that I needed and headed to the room where I was to meet the student. I sat on the couch, reading though his profile when I noticed him standing in the doorway. “Oh! Hey there, you must be Hitoshi Shinso,” I said, getting up and welcoming him in. I taught the general studies students once in a while, so I had seen him before. He came in and went to sit in the seat across from the one I was sitting in. “Sweet hair, dude, we match!!” I said with a bright smile, pointing out my hair of a similar shade of purple. He looked at me, but didn’t seem too amused. "Thanks for meeting with me, Control C-Sensei,” he said. I smiled as I took a seat. “Please just call me CC.”

“So, Shinso... tell me a bit about your quirk,” I said, pulling out my pen to take notes. “Well... it’s called ‘brainwashing,’ and it allows me to control a person’s actions. In order for it to work, it needs to be activated, then a person must reply to my voice. I can then command them to do things and they'll obey it,” he explained. I looked at him wide-eyed. “That’s quite a powerful quirk you have there!! I noticed in your file that you applied to join the hero course... are you wanting to be a hero?” I asked. He nodded. “As you know, the practical portion of the entrance exam isn’t really suited for a quirk like mine... but yes, I want to be a hero,” he said, looking down at his hands. “If I could understand my quirk better, I could figure out how to actually use it heroically,” he said. I nodded. I could tell he wasn’t confident in his abilities and was having a hard time seeing his own potential. *He reminds me of Shota* I thought to myself. “I certainly understand that... I hope I can help you however I can,” I said. I always want my students to feel like they can tell me anything and trust me, so I always try to tell them about my own history in figuring through my own quirk.

“Have you ever heard of the villain called Conniver? It’s been years since he’s done anything, but he could copy people’s quirks and would use it against them... he is my father, and I have a quirk similar to his. I can copy the quirk of someone if they tell me a secret while I touch them. It was difficult growing up with people knowing I had a villain as a father. They assumed that I would use my quirk to become just like him, so I had a hard time figuring out how to use my quirk... heroically, like you said. Anyways, I decided when I was young that I would never use it in an evil way. I would never deceive anyone or trick them into giving me their quirk. I wanted to make sure people could truly trust me before copying their quirk. In short, I did my best to ignore the naysayers and focus on those I could trust... and that’s how I was able to grow,” I explained, realizing that I was ranting a bit. “Oh sorry!! I’m talking a lot, I don’t really know why I’m saying all of this!!” I said.

“I guess I’m trying to say... for a student who is wanting to be a hero but is stuck in General Studies... don’t give up! Focus on becoming a hero, and don’t listen to those trying to tell you otherwise. Even seemingly useless quirks can be used heroically, and I’m going to do my best to help you discover more about your quirk,” I said, looking at him. He was looking at me very attentively, as if he appreciated what I was saying. He didn't speak much, but I could tell his mind was busy at work... Just like Sho. I smiled. “I won’t say it will be easy, but if you trust me and work hard at it, I will do my best to help you,” I said, standing up and bowing. “I apologize that I talked nearly the whole time, but the bell is going to ring soon, so you should head off to your next class,” I said, heading towards the door. “Next week, we can start figuring out the details of your quirk,” I said. “Thank you again, CC,” he said, bowing politely before heading out into the hall towards his next class.

*Shota’s POV*

The Sports Festival... easily the biggest event during each year at U.A. Televised worldwide, and hundreds if not thousands of people in attendance... and somehow I ended up here this year... “Heya Eraser, my brotha!! Crazy couple of rounds so far huh??? I think you should try and pick up the slack on your commentary a bit!!” Mic said to me right after the cavalry battle ended. “I’d rather not. We both know I don’t want to be here. It’s because of my injuries that I can’t do anything else but sit here... I didn’t have a choice,” I said to my overly energetic friend. Mei was assigned to be on standby at the third-years competition this sports fest. I’m almost certain she was probably the one that suggested to the Principal that I sit with Mic today... I’ll have to get her back for it later. “Eraser, here are those files you asked me to pull,” I heard the voice of my colleague Vlad say. “Thanks, Vlad,” I said as he handed me the stack of them.

I studied through them, figuring out what to expect from the upcoming one-on-one battles. I came across the file for the General Studies course. *That’s why he sounded so familiar... it’s the student that Mei started counseling a couple weeks ago... Hitoshi Shinso.* I read through his file, including the notes that Mei took on him and his quirk. “Has been stereotyped by his peers as having a villain-type quirk.” *Reminds me of Mei...* I read through the rest of his file, interested in learning more about this aspiring hero that didn’t make it into the hero course. “Woahhhhh Shota!!!! You didn’t tell me you and Mei had a kid!!!!” Mic exclaimed from over my shoulder, looking at Shinso’s photo in the file. “Don’t be an idiot. The kid is 15, he’s much too old to be our child,” I replied to him, still looking down and not at him. “But look at him!! He has your scowl and Mei’s purple hair!!! You can’t possibly convince me that he’s not secretly your child,” Mic continued. “Just drop it, would you, Mic? It’s about time for the final event to begin,” I told him, not wanting to think too much about Mei and I having a child. It was a pipe dream.

*Meiya’s POV*

It was a long day at the sports fest, with a lot of cleanup afterward. We managed to get it all done though, so we would have the following day completely off. Shota was still suffering from his injuries that he got at the attack on the U.S.J., so when I was finished helping clean the arena of the second-years sports fest, I went to retrieve my sleeping husband from Recovery Girl. We went home, and I helped him put on fresh bandages after he got washed up. It was late, but we were both starving, so I made some food and Shota joined me at the table. “So how did the first-years do?? I am excited to watch the recap of it,” I said, as I didn’t see any of it since I was busy working the other. “It was quite a spectacle. There’s so much raw potential in this year’s hero course... oh... and that boy you have been so fascinated by participated,” he said as I then fed him a bite of food... his hands weren’t exactly operational at the moment. “Oh!! Shinso?? Good.. I told him he should participate in the sports fest! How did he do? What do you think about him? I think I’m so 'fascinated' by him because he reminds me of you back in the day,” I said. “Funny... he reminds me a bit of you. He did well, all things considered. Made it into the final round in fact,” Sho at replied. “He made it in the top sixteen?? Oh! That’s so great!” I said before taking another bite. “That’s probably just the confidence boost he needs,” I added. Shota nodded. “Yeah… In fact, I am interested in talking to him at some point. Perhaps I can show him a few things that’ll help him in his journey to become a hero,” he said to me.

I looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Did he really do THAT good at the Sports Fest? Enough to grab your attention?” I asked, a bit surprised at my husband’s interest in a first year General Studies student. “To tell you the truth… he didn’t do all that great. His first and only match in the finals was against Midoriya. He managed to activate his quirk, but Midoriya somehow broke through it,” he explained. “But yes, he has grabbed my attention. I think partly because I can see myself at that age in him. But also… it was something that Yamada mentioned... He was convinced that Shinso was our child or something,” Shota said, and even though I couldn’t see his face under his bandages, I could tell his eyes were sad. We had wanted our own kids for years, but couldn’t have any. Perhaps if we did actually have a son, he would’ve looked similar to young Shinso. I chuckled slightly. “Honestly, I can kind of see what he means. He has your soft sleepy eyes,” I said, reaching over and moving his long black bangs out of his eyes so I could look into them better. “And he has your hair,” Shota replied, lifting up his hand to stroke my long purple hair, only to remember that his entire arm was bandaged. I chuckled again and took his hand and kissed it, then just held it in my arms. “I think you would be an amazing mentor for him, Sho… You should come meet him. He’s a great kid,” I said, stroking his injured arm. “When’s your next session with him?” he asked. “It’s next Thursday right after lunch… Perhaps we could do that one together,” I said, smiling at him. He nodded and replied, “yeah.”

#aizawa shouta #Shota Aizawa #shinso #hitoshi shinso #meizawa #sports festival

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bastardtetsu · 4 years

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critical thinking | ch③

pairing: kuroo tetsuro x gn!reader

genre: college au, enemies to lovers, tsundere!reader, slow burn

wc: 2.3k

warnings: swearing, being a theatre major

※ mlist | ① ② ● ④

there is no greater hell than finals week as a college theatre major.

and this year, on top of juries to prep for, studio scenes & dance combos to rehearse, essays to write, exams to study for, and rehearsals to attend for the show you’re in, your chemistry teacher decided to assign a final project in addition to the final exam. rejoice.

it was enough trying to study for the written final while staying on top of all your other assignments and obligations - you’d busted your ass so hard leading up to the exam that you hardly had time to think about the project until a week before its due date. and even when you do start thinking about it, you barely understand what you’re supposed to be doing, much less have the time or energy to try and figure it out.

you end up texting kuroo in desperation and make him agree to meet up with you for an extra tutoring session, however, due to your extra-chaotic schedule this week, the only time you’re both able to meet up is after your all-day rehearsal the sunday night before the project is due.

it’s better than nothing, you suppose.

still, you don’t fully realize the consequences of your choices until you’re exhausted on your way back from your second consecutive day of 12-hour tech rehearsals - a pretty standard tech week schedule in the professional theatre world, but not very convenient for a college student during finals.

needless to say, you’re dead tired. the last thing you want is to fry your brain even further with chemistry & kuroo’s smart mouth, but at this point you have no choice.

as you approach him in the library, you notice he’s dressed way more casually than usual. this shouldn’t come as a shock, seeing that it’s 11pm on a sunday, but the way his t-shirt and sweatpants accentuate his figure is actually insulting. somehow the way the fabric stretches around his pecs makes his chest look even broader, and christ you were not expecting his arms to be THAT toned.

NOPE. now is not the time, you remind yourself. you have a project due in ten hours. you can feel a headache coming on as your stress levels rise again.

“evening,” he greets you with a smile.

“hey,” you respond shortly as you set your stuff down, “thanks for meeting with me this late.”

“of course,” he replies, “anything for my favorite student.”

“…are you being sarcastic?”

“no.”

“i’m your favorite?” you question skeptically. “jesus, who else are you tutoring…”

“well I didn’t say you were my best student—“

“cool, i’m gonna stop you there.”

he just giggles. asshole.

you let out a fatigued sigh as you plop down in your chair. this feels like your first moment of rest all day, but in reality it’s just the start of the most difficult battle of them all. you attempt to gather up the remnants of your brainpower, silently praying that kuroo will decide to behave himself.

“you don’t seem like you’re in the mood for chemistry tonight.”

some prayers must go unanswered.

“yeah, i’ve had a long day,” you reply unenthusiastically, “so i’d really like to get this done as quickly as possible.”

“really? that’s gonna be difficult in your condition,” he jeers.

“well i don’t have much choice, do i?” you snap back a bit too aggressively.

“guess not,” he shrugs nonchalantly, leaning back in his chair with his hands resting behind his head. what is with this attitude? is he really just being a dick right now? and WHY do his arms look so god damn tasty??

you can already feel your sanity slipping away as you try to will yourself to focus on anything that’s not kuroo’s juicy biceps flexing through the fabric of his t-shirt. or his chest. or the little strip of exposed skin that’s appeared just below the hem of his shirt - fuck.

focus, you instruct yourself. your brain, however, is already giving out, the stress of not just the day, but the whole week finally catching up to you. the possibility of having something passable to turn in by tomorrow morning seems further and further away.

“look,” you sigh, leveling with him, “we both know i’m awful at chem—“

“really??”

“shut up,” you cut him off quickly, “and i’ve had a long ass week dealing with all this other shit on my plate and i’m really fucking tired and i just want to get a good grade on this so i can graduate, so can you please, PLEASE just—“

“if you’re gonna ask me to do the assignment for you, I already did it.”

a pause.

“wait. what do you mean-“

“i did the assignment for you. project’s done.”

“um,” you stutter, dumbfounded. “excuse me?”

“what, you thought i was gonna let you do it yourself? after you procrastinated it til the literal night before?” he says with an especially wide grin, “it would be irresponsible for me as a tutor if I let my student do so poorly! granted, she’s really bad at this—“

“ok shut up,” you cut him off. your mind is swirling with a mixture of shock, gratitude, and rage as you process his words. “when did you—“

“this week. after you texted me.”

“what?” you cry, “why are we even meeting up then?”

“i dunno,” he responds with a coy smirk, “it would’ve been rude to cancel.”

the swell of gratitude in your chest is overtaken by the growing wave of rage.

“so you decided to waste *more* of my time,” you state pointedly, “when you literally have enough to do an entire final project just for funsies. cool.”

“hey, show a little more gratitude,” he whines, quirking an eyebrow in annoyance, “you’re the one who left it til the last minute.”

“i’m the one?” you shoot back, “you still think i’m just procrastinating because i’m lazy??”

“look, i know finals are demanding—“

“no, I don’t think you do know,” you cut him off, now fuming. “you want a rundown of my week? i can give it to you.” you list off all the assignments you had to turn in, all the finals you had to prep for - both written and performance, all the meetings with scene partners and voice teachers and rehearsal pianists you had to arrange, all the hours you had to spend in rehearsal, including the 12-hour tech day you just came from. kuroo just sits there, taking in your words. when you finish, you let out an exhausted sigh, “so if you’d like to tell me when the fuck i was supposed to work on this stupid project, be my guest. i’d love to hear it.”

this might be the first time you’ve seen kuroo look shocked. for once he doesn’t seem to know what to say. is that a trace of guilt in his eyes too?

“i—“ just as he’s about to speak, he is cut off by an unholy sound coming from your stomach. you both sit there frozen for a second.

“um… when was the last time you ate?” he asks, cautiously breaking the silence.

“uhh,” you think back, “like 3pm.”

“okay, well it’s past 11 now,” he says, “and you need to eat. get your stuff, let’s go.”

“huh? go where?”

“to get food,” he states simply, “i’m driving, come on.”

“kuroo,” you protest, “i’m not gonna make you drive me—“

“you’re not making me,” he interrupts, “i’m making you. let’s go.”

you let out a sigh of defeat and grab your bag. with the rage beginning to melt away, that swell of gratitude begins to stir in your chest again. it’s still weird when he’s kind to you, but you’re starting to mind less.

—

you hadn’t realized how hungry you truly were until the smell of oil and salt hits you.

after grabbing your food from the drive thru, kuroo pulls around and finds a spot in the near-empty parking lot. you waste no time scarfing down your food, which he even insisted on paying for. whatever, it’s just mcdonald’s, you think. but still, the gesture is nice.

“you didn’t have to do this you know.”

“i think i did,” he says, jokingly referring to how hard you were just stuffing your face.

“funny,” you respond sarcastically, “but seriously.”

“it’s no big deal,” he says, looking away slightly. is he blushing? you can’t tell in the dark. “anyway, i figured i owed you one for making you stress about the project.”

you can’t believe your ears - is he actually apologizing?

“yeah, you really let me suffer all week, asshole,” you respond teasingly.

“i didn’t know it was that bad, alright,” he says, slightly defensive. a brief pause, and then, “sorry.”

you can hear the remorse in his voice - he means it. the corners of your mouth twitch upward.

“thank you,” you say gently, “that means a lot.”

his gaze darts back over to you. you’ve never seen his eyes look nervous before, yet somehow his stare still feels piercing.

“you’re gonna have to buy me a lot more nuggets before i fully forgive you though,” you joke, breaking out your own devilish smirk. he chuckles too, relieved.

“how many are we talking?”

“as many as i want.”

“fine,” he relents, “guess you’ll have to hang out with me more then, if i’m gonna be buying you all these nuggets.”

“whatever, i’m immune to your bullshit by now.”

“oya~? you’re starting to like me, y/n??”

“is that what the fuck i said?”

“no, but it’s what you meant,” he responds with a smirk.

“and how would you know?”

“‘cause i’m a genius,” he says, reaching over to swipe a fry from your lap. you halfheartedly swat at him.

“sure, keep telling yourself that.”

your banter feels natural now, strangely comfortable. for some reason it actually feels good talking to him. he did do something really nice for you tonight after all, despite your continued bickering. no matter how much you insult him he always has something to say back. but as much as it pisses you off, you’re not sure what you’d do if he ever stopped.

—

as kuroo drives you back to your place for the night, your mind begins turning over the events of this evening. in the time since you’d met up with him (which somehow feels longer than the literal 12 hours of rehearsal you were in earlier), you’d not only found out that the final project you’d been so stressed about had been taken care of, but you also hung out with him for the first time outside of tutoring. and he was nice to you. it’s a lot to process.

it’s not like you aren’t used to spending time alone with kuroo - like you told him, you’re immune to his bullshit by now - but this feels different somehow. it’s more peaceful, maybe even comforting. you figure it’s probably because of the rollercoaster of a day you just had, not to mention how unusual it is for him to treat you like this.

“why are you being so nice to me?” you finally ask him, turning to steal a glance at his side profile in the dim glow of the streetlamps.

“huh?? i needed to make sure my student got their nutrients!” he replies, as if it was obvious.

“what nutrients? you took me to mcdonald’s.”

“okay fair,” he says, “but nothing else was open!”

“sure, but you didn’t need to take me anywhere,” you protest, “much less spend money on me.”

“maybe i’ll just cook for you next time then,” he smiles.

“next time!?” you squawk, “what, are you trying to get into my pants??” the words leave your mouth before you fully have time to process them, but either way, you aren’t expecting the sudden silence that falls over him.

a flash of anxiety darts through your mind, but it only lasts for a second before he laughs quitely, almost to himself.

“not if you don’t want me to,” he mutters.

your breath catches. is he joking?? your heart feels like it’s in your throat. he’s definitely joking.

“what are you cooking?” is the only thought you can manage to put to words.

another pause.

“um. probably fish.”

“EW, WHAT THE FUCK?”

“what???” he gripes, “you could use more docosahexaenoic acid!!!”

“you are such a freak.” you’re relieved that the subject has changed, even though his earlier response is still circling your mind.

“okay but can you tell me the chemical formula for docosahex—“

“no, you are not bringing chemistry into this car, absolutely not. i already took my final.”

“what about the molar mass—“

“NO.”

—

you arrive back at your place not long after. kuroo’s comment is still eating away at the back your mind, but you don’t say anything as you gather your belongings. it was a cop-out response, and he was probably joking anyway.

“thanks for everything,” you say gingerly, “the project, and the food, and the ride, and the help with the semester, all that.”

“anytime, princess,” he replies with his signature smirk. usually that kind of response would trigger a jolt of annoyance in you, but this time it feels different. maybe because now you’re actually grateful to him.

in fact, you’re very grateful, and you feel like you should be expressing it more, but you’re not sure how. plus you’re too embarrassed, and have way too much pride. so instead you wish him goodnight and head towards your front door.

he waits to drive off until you’re all the way inside.

you think about him a little differently after that.

a/n: why is he so obsessed with docosahexdhfafdjh acid.... making me have to google how to spell that shit smh. anyways thank you for all the love on this fic so far!! if u actually enjoy this self-indulgent fantasy of mine know that i love & appreciate u to the ends of the earth ;-;

#haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo tetsurou x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu #.txt #e writes

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fy-enhypen · 3 years

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“I don’t want to define music in one word” - Heeseung

HEESEUNG was comfortable with handling a basketball. Most of the time the ball went in, just as it was supposed to. Once, when he missed and the ball bounced off the rim, HEESEUNG kept shooting over and over until it went in. At last, two points. Shooting over and over and hitting the wall until he succeeds? Well, HEESEUNG’s attitude toward the stage is the same. On I-LAND, your older brother said that he’s proud of you now, thinking back to how you used to be this average cute but a little immature kid who liked playing games with friends and didn’t like to study.

HEESEUNG: That time he was talking about, that was when I was really immature. I’m not exaggerating when I say that everything’s changed. This might be a bit off-topic, but I have this one good old friend who I would hang out with and goof around with all the time. It was all really childish, but I’m way more mature now. (laughs) But I do think I should keep growing up more than I am now.

I saw that, when you were doing the group photoshoot, the staff asked you to move to NI-KI’s side, and you asked him first if that was okay before moving.

HEESEUNG: Yes, I did say that. It happened so quickly, I’m surprised you caught it. (laughs)

You didn’t hesitate to help other contestants with their dancing on I-LAND even though you were competing against one another. SUNOO said you’re an “angel.” (laughs)

HEESEUNG: I could try and take all the credit for that, but that’s not really how it was. (laughs) I think that was possible because I-LAND had more challenges emphasizing teamwork than other survival shows. But that aside, I still wanted to help them. When I first became a Big Hit trainee, I practiced really hard for six months and became one of the better performers among the new recruits. I guess it’s probably because I had a lot of opportunities to be the leader from that time on.

Did you have much experience singing or dancing before you became a trainee?

HEESEUNG: I’m still not that good at dancing, but I was absolutely hopeless at the beginning. (laughs) I was really, really bad. It was so bad that my friends would make fun of me for not being able to do even basic moves. They’d say, “Seriously, how did you ever get casted?” But Big Hit’s training regimen is really good. (laughs and stretches arms out diagonally) This is called “arm stretching.” It’s a basic move. This is all I did for a year. And then more than a year of following the rhythm. I focused on basic, repetitive moves like that, then I took baby steps with a dance foundations class, and then with endless practice I finally got a lot better.

You can give hope to hopeless dancers. (laughs) I know that you were always very interested in singing.

HEESEUNG: I dreamed of becoming a singer since I was six, but I totally lacked confidence. Singers need to be able to sing in front of people without feeling nervous, but the most I could do until high school was sing with two or three really close friends at a karaoke. And then my dad suggested I take the entrance exam for an art high school, but I was too nervous during the test to sing anything. I was about to head home thinking I’d better study or choose a different career path when suddenly a casting agent spotted me. I was really lucky.

HEESEUNG: I was heavily influenced by YEONJUN from TOMORROW X TOGETHER when I came to Big Hit. Up until then, I had a sense of pride. I thought, well, I’m pretty good at singing, right? But after I saw YEONJUN, I realized I was totally fooling myself. (laughs) I felt like YEONJUN is the kid who gets perfect in every subject and I’m the one who gets, about 80 in one class and goes around bragging about it. So I thought there’s no room for feeling “not confident or some other nonsense like that” (laughs) I need to really up my game if I want to be a singer. From then on, I tried to really show off everything I’ve got on stage, which is different from how I used to be.

In the “October 2020 by ENHYPEN” video, you set a goal to practice vocals for one and a half to two hours every day. Even with your busy schedule, you’ve been close to 70~80% successful with that goal.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) It’s easy to achieve your goals when it’s something you like to do. I usually put my all into things I like, but I don’t have much motivation to do things I’m not into. I think that’s a strength and also a weakness. To use studying as an example: I lost interest in studying when I was in middle school, so I didn’t put much effort into most subjects, but I liked English because I liked to listen to pop songs. There was a foreign language high school near me that accepted students only based on their English grades and mine were good enough to get in.

All your practice really shows on your debut album, BORDER: DAY ONE. I was impressed by how you expressed each song differently.

HEESEUNG: The lead single, “Given-Taken,” is about facing a new world, and ENHYPEN just debuted as a team, so I wanted to convey a passionate start of a race. You could say it’s mellow since it opens with a harp, but I used all my energy to emphasize the tone. In “Let Me In (20 CUBE),” there’s the lyrics: “Can you open your window / Been looking everywhere for my Nemo.” It would sound kind of weird if I sang, “Open up!” forcefully like that.(laughs) So I recorded my vocals in a way that best conveys the meaning and doesn’t break the mood.

It looks like you have specific ideas about the performances and your music. On I-LAND you recorded the “-note” video diary, and you reflected on various aspects of your performance. It was very impressive the way you could go back and analyze it like that.

HEESEUNG: If you debut, you become a professional. I don’t look like a pro in my performances yet, but I think you become more professional by making deliberate efforts. I think I need to be able to express myself inside and out, so I’m trying to do all different kinds of training.

You mentioned several times that you want to write your own songs this year. Have you written any?

HEESEUNG: When I was in sixth grade, I took a music composition class using a sequencer program my dad recommended, called Cakewalk. I started to write songs again after I became a trainee. There’s a song I worked on until I got into I-LAND, and also some songs I wrote and recorded the lyrics over some existing beats. But we’ve been so busy preparing for the debut. I really regret that I haven’t been able to show off my work. Anyway, I’m going to keep trying to write songs for ENGENE whenever I get time. I just hope they’ll be patient with me.

You said “Merry and the Witch’s Flower” by Yerin Baek is your favorite song. What kind of songs do you usually listen to?

HEESEUNG: As far as genre goes, I’m really into alternative R&B. I also like songs that are dreamy and chill. I listened to a lot of songs by Yerin Baek, Anderson Paak and Eric Bellinger lately. I usually listen to the newest releases to see what people like these days, but I also listen to old hits by 2Pac and the Notorious B.I.G.

In BE:LIFT LAB’s “Training Camp,” you said your personal motivation is the high goals you set for yourself.

HEESEUNG: If I were to say that I want to be at 100, I’m currently at a 30 or 40. I’m absolutely serious. I think I need to try a lot harder if I’m going to reach my full potential. I want to be more than just a set of skills, or an amazing person; I want to make sure I don’t lose myself. The more time you spend on your work, the less time there is to invest in yourself. And if your work takes over your identity, I think you might even find it easy to lose your own sense of self. I want to be the kind of person who can grow while staying devoted to my work.

It reminds me of your performance of “Chamber 5.” Even though I-LAND is a survival program and you could have chosen a song that would have been more advantageous to you, you took on a new challenge solely for self-improvement.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) I was in way over my head. I seriously never tried even a single playful song like “Chamber 5” before in my life. But, obviously, you can’t go back to the past. Anyway, that was my choice. I was preparing for a job where you have to be ready to handle all different kinds of concepts. I took that as a fact and just practiced. And also, I had the magnificent teacher, Mr. SUNOO, right there with me. (laughs) So it was good in the end.

Maybe it’s thanks to that experience that the way you turn around and wink in the “Let Me In (20 CUBE)” performance suits you so well.

HEESEUNG: (laughs) That kind of stuff just comes to me naturally now—basically showing people how charming I am. Was it a bit awkward? (laughs) Songs like “10 Months” are in-your-face cutesy. It was hard at first, but after thinking about my own style the answer came to me. I look mature compared to the other members, so I figured that was the solution to the problem of how to express my charm. Now I am Lee HEESEUNG, a man of endless allure. (laughs)

Before a leader was selected for ENHYPEN, your name kept coming up in the polls under headings like, “the first person you’ll turn to when you’re having a hard time,” or, “the person who won’t hesitate to take difficult tasks for others.”

HEESEUNG: I’m good at listening to other people’s problems. That sounded like bragging. (laughs) If I see someone struggling with something I can fix or help them with, it’s hard for me to just stand by and watch. I don’t go around thinking I always need to help with everything, but I unconsciously act that way.

You’re the oldest member of the group. I can tell the other members trust you, and rely on you. As their oldest teammate, how do you want to be there for them?

HEESEUNG: I hope they don’t think of me as being more important than them just because I’m the oldest. In middle school, high school, clubs, and places like that, I realized that opening up to someone your senior isn’t always easy. So when we became a team, I thought I should be a cute, approachable guy (laughs) and create an atmosphere where they can speak openly with me. Everybody feels comfortable talking to that kind of person.

It seems like you already are. You all looked really close when the others were touching your head without hesitation on V LIVE and saying it looks like the full moon. (laughs)

HEESEUNG: (laughs) Yes, I’m … not thrilled that happened. (laughs) Everyone in the group has their own strong, unique personality, but still, we all try to trust and respect one another, and we set clear boundaries. And as we spend more time together, we share more personal stories, which helps us grow closer.

In “-note,” you thank the people around you and judge your own practice progress objectively while finding the positive aspects. I was impressed.

HEESEUNG: Even though they didn’t show it on the show much, I felt tremendous pressure being in a leadership position. There was so much to deal with. A lot of that was hard, of course, but I believe that people become the things they say they are, so I chose to be thankful and stay positive. If I say it like I believe it, my thinking will change and then I can overcome any difficulty. For artists, fans are important, skills are important, and talent is important, if you want to draw people in. Everything is important, really. I think it’s most important to have a healthy mind if you want to really nail all those things.

What does music mean to you?

HEESEUNG: That’s the hardest question. (laughs) I don’t want to define music in one word. I don’t think there should be just one correct answer to what music is. Because there’s no answer, all kinds of different music gets made, and many different people can be on stage. As soon as there is an answer, music will lose its charm.

#201227 #enhypen #heeseung #t: weverse #t: interview

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coldcolourchords · 3 years

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Turning 21 - an unwanted landmark

It happened an hour and 20 minutes ago, as the clock hit midnight CEST and the date changed so seamlessly to the 12th, without any hesitation, uneventfully and in complete silence, just as expected. The day I've been negatively anticipating for the better half of the past one year has come, and it caught me sitting at my computer alone in the living room, drinking hot tea on a summer night in a sweater and doing my silly little tasks that I call "work" (because despite my best efforts, middle of the night is still the only time of the day I can function as intended).

I remember ever since I was a child I always used to start mentally preparing myself for my birthday from New Year's Day. Even my mother used to say, "now that it's 2010, you're already 10 to me", even though August was still nowhere to be seen. But that felt good at the time. The beginning of a new year and my birthday approaching meant hope and progress, as the only thing I wanted as a child and as a teen was to grow up and not have to be a child anymore. I didn't like going to school, I didn't like being told to do things, I didn't like not being taken seriously, as I'm sure no one does. But by "didn't like", I mean it caused me severe emotional distress, the stuff that happened to me every single day without my control. It's hard to tell now in retrospect what caused what, but I have memories of developing my two most prominent and persistent mental disorders at around 6 years old (social anxiety and a BFRB) which have isolated me and often subjected me to cooler kids poking fun at me, shortly followed by starting school in the middle of my parent's divorce and moving houses. One of our last dinners in my father's comforting family home at the dinner table, I remember being visibly sad and my mum asking me what was wrong. My slightly belated answer ("everything") did not quite get the desired reception, as she and my little brother went on to have a little giggle over making assumptions about what that must include ("I'm sure she's sad over dinosaurs going extinct too..."). And, from then on, it's pretty much been downhill. I didn't like being home and I didn't like being at school (or at any of the million extracurricular activities my mum had picked out for me falsely thinking they could stop me from hurting myself and not just accelerate it). The ever-present social anxiety, bottled up frustration, high academic expectations and confusion about the nature of my very own self-destructive behaviours did not make for an enjoyable time in any of my 12 years at school. So, obviously, all I could do was anticipate the end. The end of being vulnerable to the very systems that were meant to nurture me and protect me.

I think that was my way of thinking all the way until I turned 19. Two years ago. At 19, I had graduated high school, I was about to start university studying something I was interested in, I had a semi-stable student job I liked and I was ready to move in with my boyfriend (a former classmate), separate from our parents. I had an artistic goal that I was ready to work for in my free time, and living away from home I was finally going to get the capacity to do so as well. And then when all of this happened and my thoughts became occupied with the new kind of responsibilities that came with "adulting", I started getting this overwhelming feeling of "what now?". A couple months have passed in the blink of an eye, it was November and I wasn't happy. I was making virtually no progress on my creative goals, my flat was a smelly mess, I didn't see my friends and I wasn't making new ones, and I found university to be draining and incompatible with my brain. I wasn't enjoying anything. I thought, "is this how I'm going to have to spend another 3 years?".

And then a miracle happened. I had to give a presentation at uni with a couple of other girls, and one of them suggested a book to do it based on. Reading my part of the book to prepare for the presentation has unlocked something in me - it was a book about the way people manage to feel like hostages due to their own decisions and thoughts. First it hurt to read because I had to face the truth: I wasn't really a hostage of expectations, university or responsibilities, I was a hostage of myself and my own attitude. I even wrote a song about this (my ultimate way of being honest with myself), and that's when I've felt ready to start working on myself in order to take back control over my life. And hell, I have done it. In a couple of weeks, I was feeling the best I've ever felt and I went into exam season thinking I was capable of the impossible at this point. Who knew I had it in me? I had gotten through a couple of exams and assignments and I was thinking soon I was going to start improving in other areas of my life as well. I was going to make art, see my friends again, go out, have fun, maybe learn to cook and be a better girlfriend too. Not a lot of that has happened. Came the end of exams and the second half of January and I was already exhausted. My job was at a halt and uni wasn't back on until mid February, so I spent a few shallow weeks at home just thinking "why am I doing this again?". It was difficult, suddenly having too much space for negative thoughts and rumination.

But it was only the start of the pandemic when my race with time has really begun. Which is ironic, because when the restrictions were first announced in my country, I really saw a lot of opportunity in them to grow for myself (and I mean this is in the least "this deadly virus is a blessing in disguise" way possible). University moving online and social gatherings being nothing short of illegal all of a sudden felt more than convenient for my social (but very luckily not health) anxiety ridden brain, and I had imagined this was going to be the most prosperous phase in my life, in terms of moving forward with my goals.

Ever since I was little, I had dreamed of becoming a musical artist. No one ever encouraged me - maybe for a good reason - and I tried to keep quiet about it as well. I was so ashamed of desiring something that was so "unlike me" according to everyone who knew me. I never had a good voice and everyone perceived me as shy, on top of being seen as more of a "STEM girl" (until I went to high school for maths and ended up not understanding any of it anymore). I'd been writing lyrics into my phone since 14 and attempting to turn them into actual songs on my laptop since 17. At 18, I even took a beginner's course in Ableton. Still, I just never felt like anything I wrote was of any worth or that I had a single ounce of talent in any part of the process. But I kept on dreaming and pushing because I thought "if I don't try, how will I know?". My work ethic was awful too, I was an inconsistent writer and an even more inconsistent producer. I never got anything finished because I got lost in the details and gave up due to my perfectionism. Plus, and this is what I perceived to be the biggest problem at the time, I could only record music at home, and my family were home all the time. Moving out, I thought I was going to prosper, then I didn't prosper for a bit, told myself it was okay because uni was making me depressed, then I continued to not prosper, told myself it was okay because I had to rest up after exams. And then it's like the universe said "Stop. You're just making excuses. Stay home and produce those songs now because there will NOT be another opportunity like this".

I put so much pressure on myself then to get stuff done. It felt like my time - all my adolescence I was looking at teenage popstars rising to fame and each year they were just getting younger and all I did was compare myself to them and worry. Worry that I was running late, that no one was going to ever care about me because I am late, but growing up I excused it every time. I was home with my family and stressed because of school all the time, duh, how could I have made good art? But right there, at the beginning of "quarantining", it was just me and my willpower. No school, no job, no impromptu social plans. And who knew how long it was going to last? Some people said only four weeks, some others said months, some the rest of the year. All I knew was I was 19, still young and practically a teenager, and I had to act. And I did. I made two of the worst songs you've heard in your life and I put them both out in the summer under my own name. Like proper released them on streaming services and all. Looking back now, holy hell, how desperate was I, posting it on my social media that people I actually knew followed? With my fear of being ridiculed? I was setting myself up for an emotional disaster. Shock horror: my songs didn't blow up (although I have had a few friends say lovely things about them, at least to me). By the time of scheduling the second one for release (mid July) I was already feeling burnt out. Yes, there was another exam season in the meantime, and the unexpectedness of the elongated pandemic has definitely been a factor as well, but generally I was just so let down by the overall underwhelming experience. I made such bad decisions - why my own full name? Why did I have to let people know and thereby handicap myself? Of course I wasn't going to promote my songs now or even speak of them positively because I feared coming off ridiculous. So I just let the whole thing pass without a sound and made myself sad. By last August, I was back to "what now?".

Needless to say, there were no festivals last summer. Festivals used to be my ultimate summer happy place and I always celebrated my birthday at a specific one (the biggest one in my city to be exact) starting with the 15th. Concerts and festivals were somehow simultaneously an adventurous escape from all my worries and the root of a lot of my confidence issues and anxiety. I dreamed of being on stage and presenting my art to the world, pouring my heart out to even just one person who will listen, the same way that I listen to my favourite artists and what they have to say. Some nights were emotional, some nights were energising, some nights were spent worrying about the people who surrounded me and some nights were just pure jealousy and feeling far away from my goals - you never knew what you were going to get at a gig. I think that overall most gigs were bittersweet experiences for me, but that's how I liked them to be. The whole point was just to feel something. But there were no festivals last year. There were concerts, though, put on by local bands, but lord do I wish there hadn't been any. I went to two of those last summer - one I went to alone and walked away feeling like shit, another I went to with my friends and felt extremely guilty and anxious about the virus after. This second one happened to be two days before my 20th birthday. I spent my birthday worried to death that I got the virus (even though numbers were extremely low at the time in my country and going to small gigs was perfectly legal and deemed not dangerous) and that I was going to infect my elderly relatives who I was going to meet with later. That didn't happen, but I haven't been to a single show since then, and it's been a year. So that's how my first non-festival birthday worked out.

Turning 20 didn't feel good and my birthday aligned with the onset of a bunch of new problems as well as old ones accelerated. I began to think deeply about everything. What was the point of anything I was doing? Was any of it going to get me anywhere? Was any of it causing me joy, even? I didn't know what to do about my musical efforts - should I keep trying to put out songs or admit defeat? I still had that creative drive in me and I worried so much about my role in the world - "I'm not a good friend, not a good girlfriend and not a good daughter, and I certainly will never become a good psychologist directly helping people with their problems. I need to give something to the world - I need to find a purpose". I didn't do stuff because I was anxious, and then I was anxious because I didn't do stuff. But I think at that point I also realised I didn't only want to succeed and produce. I also wanted to live. Having fun was missing from my life too. I rarely saw or talked to friends and my relationship wasn't going well either. Every day I tortured myself looking at other people live their lives on social media and thinking to myself I wanted what they had. I wanted to be someone. I wanted to create, to connect and to matter, but all of these things have only ever caused me anxiety in my life and I didn't know where to go from there.

With the virus getting worse again and the start of another online semester, there was one silver lining to locking myself in again though. During the pandemic, I have been playing a lot of video games, possibly even more than before. They weren't only a nice way to numb my brain and relax - no, the opposite, they were actively giving me a temporary sense of direction and progress with each gaming session. I have always loved The Sims for this reason, I had spent so many years building and perfecting my little worlds to my liking and practicing full control over my characters' lives, but this time I began to feel like it was something bigger. I discovered the Sims side of the internet, something I had not really done before, and the amount of content, help, info and Sims-related entertainment has blown me away. Whole new levels of playing have been unlocked for me and I began to dive deeper than ever. I wanted to be part of the community, so in the autumn I started streaming the game on Twitch and this time I knew better than to tell anyone I already knew about it. That didn't quite turn out as I expected, and my streamer phase was cut short in January by someone I knew from high school accidentally finding my stream. Before that, I would only get moderately anxious before streams, not worried much about what viewers were going to think of me (if they find me annoying they'll just leave and I'll never have to hear from them again), but then that unexpected turn of events ruined everything in my head. All my confidence I had built up was suddenly gone. I never streamed again after that. It wasn't really for me anyway, I told myself.

Instead, insistent on further pursuing the only thing that was giving me joy at the time, I started my YouTube channel initially uploading Sims tutorials, because I thought I had useful stuff to show people that has a greater chance of making someone happy than just watching me try to put together a sentence for 5 minutes straight while my Sims struggle to get in the shower by themselves. And much to my surprise, it was gaining decent traction, although I put a lot of it down to luck even today. But either way, it's been growing more or less consistently ever since, and beginning of the summer I stopped to think "could I not just be doing this for a living now?". "Could this be my new creative ambition?". As much as I would have liked to say yes based on my progress and how I managed to earn the same amount I would have earned in a month at my part-time retail job (we're talking Eastern European sums kids!), it wasn't that simple. Thoughts around this have of course been puzzling me for months now. I like to think of myself as a natural talker, just because I am anxious I am NOT quiet or shy. I can even make small talk very well, it's just that because I'm mortified by the possibility of an awkward silence I tend to avoid situations where it might be required. And I talk to myself all the time. So on paper, talking to a camera should not be an issue. And yet every time I record a video I feel my soul being sucked out of my body because I need to make sure I say every sentence correctly and that ends up in draining 4 hour recording sessions. Editing videos, on the other hand, is a rewarding process, a kind of flow-experience I have not really known before, though extremely long and usually detrimental to my sleep schedule (which is far from being rosy by default). Maybe I just put too much effort into everything, but it really makes you question - is it worth it? Can I really be doing this on the long run without destroying myself? And will I ever get used to the social interactions that come with it?

It's weird, suddenly getting recognition for something, people giving me positive feedback on the daily. This certainly happened more suddenly than I thought it would and I don't think I was prepared. Naturally, people taking the effort to leave me nice comments and messages makes me want to reply, appreciate their kindness and return the favour but the trinity of little demons inside me - social anxiety, impostor syndrome and a chronically low self-esteem - makes this a difficult task to complete. To combat the overwhelming weight of responsibility that comes with making sure I appreciate everyone who appreciates me enough, as well as to shut out the fear that what I have now can be taken away from me any second, I have built up a mental wall between me and my relative success. This wasn't a conscious choice, it's just the way my brain has started dealing with this new situation. I do not allow myself to internalise the rewards of what I work so hard for and that contributes to why, when I look back on 2021 so far, all I see is depression despite having "gotten what I wanted". My YouTube channel has been the only thing bringing hope and the only thing I've got going for me and yet I am incapable of embracing it.

The past one year has been enlightening. It has enlightened me that there must be something deeply wrong with me because I have not been able to enjoy life even at times I had all the reasons to. The times I am capable of letting go and feeling happy for short periods come exactly based on that - short periods. I'm drifting into states of bliss only when I know the situation is temporary and doesn't come with commitment and responsibility. Some of these moments of calmness come to me while walking to the store by myself after dark, getting invested in my video games, meeting up with my friends for an evening every once in a while and writing a therapeutic song just for myself using the simplest chords on the piano. The feeling usually doesn't last and disappears at the first attempt to get back to any kind of organised schedule (that attempt on most days is the simple act of trying to force myself to go to bed). Isn't that ironic? I wanted purpose. I wanted to get it together. And yet... every day is a struggle. I know now, I am the problem. Whether it's a chemical imbalance or another anomaly in my brain or my own fault somehow, it's not my circumstances, it's me. I wanted to be free and to make my life my own, and now I just can't. Every day I worry about running out of time, rapidly approaching death and not being able to say that I have lived. This is why turning 21 fills me with so much panic. I am no longer a child and I'll never be again, although I wouldn't even like to be. I just can't help thinking that I wasted so many opportunities to enjoy myself and to push for my goals. But it's gone now and there's no point regretting how I used to think about life back then. If I look back on my life so far I see a lot of stuff that happened that made half of my brain temporarily happy, but the other half was always filled with anxiety, anticipation to get out or dissatisfaction. It was just never fully right and I keep hoping that there will come a time when it will feel fully right. Before turning 19, I thought independence was going to give me that. Now at 21, I'm not quite sure there's anything that's going to give me that if I don't also start to work through every single one of my issues (although part of me still likes to cling onto the idea that once I'm done with my first and last degree, a lot of underlying stress and guilt will be taken off my shoulders and I'll see everything in a different light). So for a start, I just finally signed up for psychological counselling. I don't know if it will help but it's something and I've done it for myself. I need to do more for myself.

There is so much more I could talk about. Like the pandemic, how I've turned into a hermit, my relationship, struggling to be honest with myself and slowly losing touch with my all time number one passion because of it. I could talk about how I know that society has been deliberately making us (especially women) feel scared of aging and yet I still file it under personal issues, how I've been trying to fix my sleep schedule for a year and a half straight now, the guilt I feel from my family and friends all the time, my inability to concentrate and how I fall into despair concerning the future and present of humanity every time I read the news and people's opinions on social media. I could talk about how I want to cry every time I see a picture of somewhere beautiful in the world - a street in Japan, a lake in the Alps or the trees in the Mediterranean - because I feel a longing that is almost nostalgic for places I've never even visited. There is always so much to still be told to complete the story, but why do I want people I'll never fully know to understand me that well? I need to let go of compulsions like these.

Deep down I just hope that I'm not the only one terrified of growing old.

#21 #happy birthday to me #long story long #welcome to my brain #aging #depression #anxiety #growing up #growing old #young adulthood

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ibijau · 4 years

Text

Worst engagement AU // on AO3

Lan Wangji gives friendship another try, and Lan Xichen has a pretty shitty day

warning for infidelity :D part of this chapter had been posted wayyyyy back (in fact, it was the very first thing I posted for this AU!) but it’s been touched up a lot

It is rare, this year, to find Nie Huaisang alone. So when Lan Wangji, one afternoon, sees the other boy walking alone in a garden with a stack of papers under his arm, he takes his chance and greets him.

"Lan gongzi! I was thinking you'd taken a dislike to me," Nie Huaisang replies with a half smile. "May I help you with something?"

A certain guilt makes its way in Lan Wangji's chest. He hasn't meant to avoid Nie Huaisang. If anything, he has wanted to check on the other boy for those past three months, at once still worried about his break down at the end of the previous year and quite stunned by the changes since his return. And he knows, of course, that Nie Huaisang would not have been opposed to a conversation, since the other boy often smiles at him when their eyes meet.

Lan Wangji would have been happy to pursue the budding friendship they started last year, but Nie Huaisang’s entourage made it difficult. It is good that Nie Huaisang is not so alone this year, but did he really need to be friends with Wei Wuxian, who is the most irritating, and annoying, and clever, and gorgeous, and disrespectful person Lan Wangji has ever met?

"I was wondering if Nie gongzi would like to have tea."

"Really? I'd love that!" Nie Huaisang exclaims with a large smile that quickly dims a little. "Ah, sorry, that was probably too loud. I've gotten bad habits with the others, but don't worry Lan gongzi, I can still be quiet as well. When would you like to do that?"

At the moment, Wei Wuxian is being punished for fighting with Jin Zixuan, while Jiang Wanyin is dutifully waiting for his father's arrival. Lan Wangji cannot be certain he'll get such a chance again. If he allows for this moment to pass, maybe when Nie Huaisang comes to have tea with him, Wei Wuxian will try to tag along. It would be absolutely awful. Lan Wangji doesn't want to have Wei Wuxian in his house, ever.

"If Nie gongzi is free now, I am as well."

The older boy considers that for a moment.

"I had plans for later, but nothing too important. It’s fine if I miss out on that or if I’m late, especially if it’s to have some time with Lan gongzi. Let me just go drop those in my cabin," Nie Huaisang requests, patting his pile of papers.

"Homework?"

Nie Huaisang grimaces at the very idea.

"No, I have been painting a bit. I'll just drop them and…"

"I would like to see them," Lan Wangji cuts him. "Bring them."

"Really ? Well, if Lan gongzi insists…"

Lan Wangji nods, and Nie Huaisang easily gives in. With this matter settled, the two of them head toward the house Lan Wangji shares with his brother and uncle. When they reach the door, Nie Huaisang hesitates, his easy smile faltering a bit.

"Is your brother likely to be there?"

"Brother is helping Uncle deal with sect business, since Uncle is expecting visitors. Neither of them are likely to come."

Nie Huaisang instantly relaxes at the news, which isn't a surprise. Lan Xichen has been complaining a great deal about the time he is forced to spend with Nie Huaisang, and how unpleasant it always is. Lan Wangji imagines the feeling is shared. It seems odd to him, because both his brother and Nie Huaisang are fine people with personalities mild enough that they’re easy to get along with. Still, if they’ve decided they can’t bear each other’s presence, it’s their problem, and he’s not getting involved in that.

That's why rather than to stay in the main room, as would probably be more proper, Lan Wangji prepares tea and then takes the other boy to his bedroom. That way, if Lan Xichen comes home, Nie Huaisang is less likely to have to deal with him. It also means that Nie Huaisang gets to see the painting he gifted Lan Wangji hanging on the wall.

He looks absolutely stunned to see it there.

"So you really displayed it?" he mumbles. "I thought your brother was poking fun at me because it's such a bad painting. I should have known better, it’s not like he has a sense of humour. Still, to put something so bad on the wall like this..."

"I like it," Lan Wangji protests. "Brother too likes it."

Nie Huaisang snorts and crosses his arms on his chest, tilting his head to glare at his painting.

"I doubt that. He hates everything about me."

"Brother likes how you paint," Lan Wangji objects, inviting Nie Huaisang to sit at his desk, the only table available.

Nie Huaisang sits down. He accepts the cup of tea offered to him and glances at it, but quickly puts it down on the table, lips pinched.

"Nie gongzi doesn't like this tea?"

"I don't like any Lan tea, I think. You people always make it too light, it's just warm water.” Nie Huaisang presses a hand against his mouth. “Ah, sorry, that's rude! I'm so sorry, I'll make an effort to be more like before."

"Like before?"

Nie Huaisang nods and drinks some tea with a forced smile.

"You like me quiet, right?" he asks. "I haven't had to be quiet in a while. I miss it a bit, actually. I like having friends, but it's so much effort sometimes, and it gets hard to keep up with people like Jiang-xiong and Wei-xiong. Thanks for the chance to… Ah, I probably speak too much as well?"

"You speak less than Wei Wuxian, so it is fine,” Lan Wangji replies, unwilling to admit that he minds chatter a little less these days. After that month of overlooking Wei Wuxian’s punishment, he’s had to get used to it.

"Well, that's not hard,” Nie Huisang chuckles. “He even talks in his sleep sometimes."

Against his better judgement, Lan Wangji finds that detail endearing. He adds it to the list of little things he keeps learning about Wei Wuxian, although he would rather die than confess such a list exists.

"It is fine that Nie gongzi speaks more now," Lan Wangji states. "Nie gongzi said last year he was one to follow demands and not make them, I'm glad this is changing."

"Oh, right, I never thanked you for that!” Nie Huaisang gasps, before breaking into a large smile. “But after what you said, I spoke with my brother when I went home, and he agreed to let me try different things. Lan gongzi, I'm very grateful for the kindness you showed me that day, and for your good advice. I don't know what I would have done without you."

Lan Wangji nods in acknowledgement.

In all honesty, and remembering the state Nie Huaisang was in after being told he failed his exams, Lan Wangji has some idea what the older boy might have done if not given some comfort and encouragement. Most of what he said was spoken out of fear that his brother might turn into a widower before even getting the chance to marry, and Lan Wangji was half certain that it was mostly nonsense but… if it helped Nie Huaisang, he’s glad.

“Since Nie gongzi no longer has to hide, will he show me his work?” Lan Wangji asks, glancing at the small pile of papers the other boy dropped on the floor.

“Only if you show me yours. Lan gongzi paints as well, right?”

Lan Wangji nods. He does, but only because it is what a young man of good birth must do. He doesn’t find in this the pleasure his brother and Nie Huaisang seem to take in it. Still, it is not unpleasant to have someone other than his brother appear excited about the prospect of seeing his work.

The day has been unpleasant so far for Lan Xichen, and he does not particularly expect it to improve. His uncle is in a terrible mood and making it felt around, all because of this business with Wei Wuxian, which is…

If Lan Xichen could allow himself to be honest, he’d say the entire matter is ridiculous. Wei Wuxian isn’t an easy student, but he’s far from being the worst they’ve had either. As for this argument with Jin Zixuan, the fault is divided between the two of them, so it’s unfair that one gets punished more harshly. Certainly Wei Wuxian has misbehaved here and there, but he’s clever, and if Lan Qiren had just found the right way to get through to him, things would have gone better.

Except his uncle isn't one to question his methods, and so Wei Wuxian must carry the blame alone. Much like last year when Nie Huaisang had to shoulder his failure alone, when surely, after how much effort the other Nie boys confirmed he put into studying, such bad results should have made any teacher question themselves.

It is an unpleasant day, and Lan Xichen feels so rebellious that he asked to be excused when sect leader Jiang and sect leader Jin arrived, for fear he might say something he shouldn't.

Leaving the adults to their gossips and complaining also means he is free to go inform his brother that Wei Wuxian will be leaving. This, too, Lan Xichen blames on his rebellious mood. He knows his uncle doesn't want Lan Wangji to have anything to do with Wei Wuxian, now that it is clear his upstanding nephew cannot influence the other boy and might instead be lead astray. Too bad for Lan Qiren. If there's finally someone who insistently wants to be Lan Wangji's friend, Lan Xichen wants to encourage that.

And so as soon as his uncle allows him to leave his side, Lan Xichen heads straight for home. At this hour, his brother is likely to be there, either meditating or practicing the guqin.

When he enters the house, the faint aroma of tea in the air confirms that Lan Wangji must be there. The main room is empty, so he must be in his bedroom, most likely meditating. Lan Xichen is sorry to disturb him, but hopefully Lan Wangji will be grateful to be given a chance to rush and say a few last words to Wei Wuxian.

As Lan Xichen walks toward his brother's room though, he is struck to hear voices coming from that direction. His brother is not one for guests and there is hardly anyone Lan Wangji is close enough to bring into not simply his house, but his bedroom.

This mystery is quickly lifted when Lan Xichen reaches the door to his brother's room and finds him sitting at his desk, Nie Huaisang at his side. The two younger boys have spread a large quantity of papers on the table before them, paintings by the looks of it, and are so busy chatting about them that they haven't noticed Lan Xichen.

It is so odd to see Nie Huaisang this relaxed. When Lan Xichen sees him in the distance with his friends, he is always jumping around, laughing and smiling and nearly as loud as Wei Wuxian. And of course during their weekly meetings, Nie Huaisang is sullen and closed off. Lan Xichen might be tempted to think that this is closer to how Nie Huaisang was last year, but even that would be inexact. Nie Huaisang never used to smile this much, and he always carried himself as if he were scared to take too much space. Nothing like this Nie Huaisang who is calm but clearly happy, and doesn't hesitate to reach across the table to take a painting.

"Oh this one is so good!"

Lan Wangji glances at the painting in question.

"Hm. It is brother's. He gave it to me to copy."

Nie Huaisang blushes slightly at the blunder. Lan Xichen expects him to drop the painting or make some disparaging comment, but instead the other boy inspects it carefully.

"Well, it figures,” Nie Huaisang sighs wistfully. “Your brother is a painter beyond compare… I could never even hope to paint with such controlled lines. Everything is just perfect, exactly as it should be… it must be amazing to be this good. I hope to be half as skilled someday."

Lan Xichen’s heart races at the unexpected compliment. Considering how Nie Huaisang speaks to him when he is present, he would have expected him to say much worse things about him in his absence. Even if he didn’t want to offend Lan Wangji by insulting his brother, it would have been easy to say something more neutral, or nothing at all.

“Huaisang could ask brother to teach him,” Lan Wangji suggests.

“No,” Nie Huaisang huffs with a bitter chuckle. “Your brother has made it very clear to me that he thinks I should give up on painting to focus on studying. He’d never do anything to encourage me on that path. And even without that, he hates me too much to ever want to spend more time with me.”

It stings that Nie Huaisang would believe that, when Lan Xichen has repeatedly asked to see his paintings, only to be denied each time. It stings also that Lan Wangji just nods along and drops the matter, grabbing instead a different painting to inspect it.

"This one is nice."

"You think?” Nie Huaisang pouts. “It could be better. I really like that view, but I can never do it justice."

"It is nice," Lan Wangji insists. "I like it."

"Really? You can have it if you want. Or… or if you'd like, I could paint something especially for you. As a thank you for your help."

"There is no need."

"There is much need,” Nie Huaisang grumbles. “You don't realise how much it changed for me. Ah! I know what to give you!” he exclaims, his smile turning devious. “I painted a portrait of Wei Wuxian a little while ago, do you want it?"

At this most cruel attack, Lan Wangji looks away. In doing so, his eyes fall on the door of his room, only to find Lan Xichen standing there. Lan Wangji appears a little uncomfortable at this intrusion, but nods at him to acknowledge his presence. This, of course, attracts Nie Huaisang’s attention.

The change is immediate. A moment ago, Nie Huaisang was relaxed and smiling easily, but as soon as he spots Lan Xichen he tenses and hurriedly grabs the paintings laid on the desk so he can hide them.

"I guess it’s getting late," he says stiffly. "I have other appointments today. I will go now."

"You don't need to," Lan Xichen sighs. "I was just here to tell my brother that..."

"Don't worry, I'm already gone," Nie Huaisang insists, dashing past Lan Xichen with a mess of papers held against his chest. "I know where the door is."

Before either brother can stop him, Nie Huaisang is already gone. Lan Xichen isn't exactly surprised that things turned out like this, but he feels somewhat guilty for interrupting this conversation when the other two seemed to be having fun. Indeed, Lan Wangji looks mildly annoyed at him.

"I just came here to give you some news regarding Wei Wuxian," Lan Xichen sighs. "I thought you'd want to know as soon as possible that uncle has decided to expel him."

"Jin Zixuan provoked him," Lan Wangji protests.

"I know, and I also think it's a little unfair, but uncle won't bulge. You know how he gets when he's sure he's right. At least you might have a chance to say goodbye, they're all discussing sect business now, and Wei Wuxian is in the courtyard for his penance."

It says a lot about Lan Wangji's distress that for once, he doesn't even try to deny his interest in Wei Wuxian. Instead he hurriedly tidies his desk so he can head outside. Eager to help, Lan Xichen gathers the remnants of their tea (Nie Huaisang’s cup is still full, he can't help but notice) and brings them back to the main room so the servants can wash everything. He is then quickly joined by Lan Wangji who holds a few sheets of paper and appears uncertain what to do with them.

“Nie gongzi forgot those,” he explains.

Lan Xichen glances at the papers. They can’t be what Nie Huaisang offered to give to his brother, they’re only studies (excellent studies; it seems Nie Huaisang’s skill has grown even greater since the rabbits) which means he must have simply missed them in his haste to go away. Judging by his expression, it’s clear Lan Wangji feels he should return those without delay, but also that he’d much rather go check on Wei Wuxian.

“Give them to me,” Lan Xichen asks. “I have nothing to do right now, I can drop by the Nie cabin.”

Lan Wangji all but shoves the studies into his hands and hurriedly leaves the house. When he’s gone, Lan Xichen allows himself to chuckle. His brother’s crush is really adorable. It’s a shame that Wei Wuxian is leaving so soon, these two might have gotten somewhere with a little more time. And if it had turned into something serious, Yunmeng Jiang isn’t a bad ally to have. Marrying Lan Wangji to a servant’s son isn’t ideal, but everyone knows how much Jiang Fengmian favours his ward, so they could have gotten a real alliance out of it. Perhaps if Lan Wangji gets a little bold and offers a correspondence to Wei Wuxian, if they get to meet again… Lan Xichen wouldn’t mind having a brother-in-law like that to shake up things in the Cloud Recesses.

That’s a consideration for later, though. First, Lan Xichen has his own fiancé to think of. He takes his time heading for the Nie cabin, feeling no hurry to face Nie Huaisang’s bad mood for the second time in a single day. A shame because these studies are so good that Lan Xichen can’t stop glancing at them as he walks, half certain that he can recognise the exact view of them mountains they depict, and he would love to talk about that. Still, he’s half hoping that his fiancé won’t have returned to the cabin directly, and that he can drop the studies to one of the other Nie disciples.

On a day like this, of course he shouldn’t have hoped to be lucky. As he gets close to the cabin, Lan Xichen sees Nie Huaisang in front of the door, having a conversation with a Lan disciple whose face is not visible from where he stands. Nie Huaisang does not seem particularly enthusiastic about the company, but still ends up following the other boy behind the cabin.

Lan Xichen goes after them. He tells himself that it is only because he needs to return the paintings, but there might be a hint of curiosity as well. The two boys are so taken by whatever they're planning that they don't even notice he's getting close behind them.

“I’m just saying you could have warned me,” he hears the Lan disciple complain when he’s almost caught up to them. “I waited a long time, I thought maybe something had happened.”

“Listen, if I wanted to be scolded, I’d go hang out with Lan Xichen,” Nie Huaisang retorts. “I got busy, that’s all. I’m barely in the mood at all, so count yourself lucky I’m not sending you away.”

The Lan disciple, whose face Lan Xichen still can’t see, shrugs. He then steps closer to Nie Huaisang who throws his arms around his neck as they lean closer to each other and…

Lan Xichen feels punched. His hand clenches on the paintings he’s holding, tight enough to probably rip the paper, but right now he can’t care about that because… because…

“What are you two doing?” he hisses.

It all goes very fast. Nie Huaisang pushes away the Lan disciple with enough force that the boy cries out and falls to the ground. The boy glances up and, realising who found them in this compromising situation, he scampers off hastily, trying to hide his face. Lan Xichen should stop him, because what just happened broke so many rules, enough that this boy could probably be sent away from Gusu Lan, but he’s too stunned to react.

Nie Huaisang remains where he is, looking rather annoyed as he crosses his arms and glares at his fiancé.

“Do you really have to ruin everything for me?” Nie Huaisang asks. “How annoying.”

“I don’t think you’re the one who should be upset,” Lan Xichen replies, rather more weakly than he would have liked. “I’m the one who caught my fiancé kissing someone else, aren’t I?”

Nie Huaisang smirks and shrugs in that cocky way he does now.

“And what are you going to do about it? Have the engagement cancelled?” he taunts.

“Is that why you did this?” Lan Xichen asks.

He knows that Nie Huaisang hates their engagement, far more than Lan Xichen himself does at this point. But he had assumed that Nie Huaisang understood how important the alliance between their sect is, how much Gusu Lan and Qinghe Nie need to count on each other. Every day that passes gives more proof that Qishan Wen is preparing for war, this alliance is so important, regardless of personal feelings, surely Nie Huaisang is clever enough to understand...

“I know we can’t avoid getting married,” Nie Huaisang retorts with another insolent shrug. “But we’re not married yet, and I know you don’t want me, so… can’t you at least let me have fun with someone who does?”

“Do you like him?”

Just saying the words hurts because suddenly, Lan Xichen realises that he might end up living the same life as his father, with a spouse who only reluctantly tolerates his company and would rather be anywhere else. He remembers how wistful his mother looked sometimes, especially toward the end. He doesn’t want to see that expression on Nie Huaisang. He certainly doesn’t want either the lonely life his father condemned himself to.

Nie Huaisang laughs to his face.

“You Lans, it’s always about love and all,” he mocks. “I don’t care about that. I just want to have a little fun with someone before I’m forced to be faithful to you. Kissing people’s nice, you know?”

Lan Xichen flinches. Nie Huaisang smirks, walking closer, leaning toward him, his head cocked to the side.

“Ah, but actually… I guess you wouldn’t know, right? Bet you’ve never kissed anyone, eh?” He steps closer still, slowly, like a wolf stalking its prey. “Lan gongzi… want me to be your first kiss? I’ll make it good, I swear.”

It’s a shameless proposition, one that Lan Xichen should immediately refuse. Instead, his eyes fall on Nie Huaisang’s lips and he aches to feel them against his, to hold the other boy close, to touch him, to...

Nie Huaisang laughs again.

“Right, of course not. Well, I can’t make you want me, can I?” he snickers. “Whatever. I’ll go now. But please, next time… don’t interrupt, okay? It’s rude to bother people when they’re having fun.”

He saunters away as if he doesn’t have a worry in the world. Lan Xichen watches him go, once more filled with hatred for this fiancé he didn’t choose.

It has to be hatred.

He refuses to give another name to the gnawing coldness inside his chest.

#xisang #worst engagement au #jau writes #ooof that was a hard one to write for some reason it just didn't want to happen!#but welp now lxc knows #and jzx is about to become free real estate

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h2bakugou · 5 years

Text

transfer student | shoto todoroki

summary: you’re the new transfer student to ua, and based on your abilities both physically, and mentally, you’ve piqued todoroki’s interests.

a/n: i love being 16 and attracted to anime boys bc real-life boys scare me

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / (h/p) - home place+where you transferred from / (y/q) - your quirk

warnings: fluff, swearing, a smidge of cringe-angst most likely

word count: 1,162

»»————-　★　————-««

You’d heard about the prestigious hero school that was UA. Being a transfer was going to be difficult. You’d taken the written exam before you actually transferred.

You took a rough copy of the physical exam and they’d stated that they’d love to have you at UA. You were excited, yet extremely terrified.

- - -

Class 1-A was in your sight. And thankfully, you were being escorted than none other than All Might himself. You were on the verge of panicking but for the sake of keeping composure, you sucked it in.

“You’re going to do fantastic here, kid!” All Might smiled.

Class 1-A was just chattering amongst one another currently.

“What’s everyone talking about?” Midoriya asked Uraraka.

“Apparently, according to Mina, we’re getting a transfer student!”

Todoroki’s head shot up. The word of a transfer student piquing his interest. It seemed almost rare to see a transfer student, as they had no real way of taking the entrance exams unless they’d taken them elsewhere.

Which in this case, was exactly what happened.

“I hope it’s a girl!” Uraraka smiled, looking at the door, waiting for any sign of movement.

“No matter who it is, I’m still gonna show them who’s number one in this class.” Bakugou muttered, resting his head in his hand.

“Alright settle down.” Mr. Aizawa called out to the class, the class grew quiet.

The door almost fell off its hinges from the force used to open it.

“I should use less strength opening this door next time.” All Might laughed quietly.

“Ah, Mr. Aizawa, this is your newest student, I’m pleased to welcome miss (f/n) (l/n)!” All Might gave you a gentle nudge forward, guiding you to face the class.

Todoroki wasn’t the one to blush, but he couldn’t help but think you were attractive. The way your (h/c) locks fell softly on your shoulders, or how your (e/c) eyes seemed to glisten under the fluorescent lights.

“Hi.” You waved. A few students smiled and waved back, while a few, mainly one perky-haired blonde, groaned.

“Thanks All Might.” Mr. Aizawa nodded, watching as he left.

“Introduce yourself, I’ll give you a few minutes.” Your teacher, Mr. Aizawa zipped himself up into what looked like a sleeping bag.

“Uhm, my names (f/n) (l/n), I’m a transfer student from (h/p) and my quirk is (y/q).” You introduced yourself, locking eyes with a half-white, half-red haired boy.

Your breath hitched in your throat, but you disguised it by looking away.

“Thank you, take a seat.” Mr. Aizawa de-cocooned himself, standing up in front of the class.

“We’ll be doing another physical test today, followed by a short assessment, nothing too draining.” He instructed. You walked toward the back of the classroom, sitting behind the boy you’d locked eyes with.

He turned slightly and glanced at you before turning back around. Hopefully, you’d be able to consider him a friend soon.

- - -

“The new transfer student is crazy talented.” Mina gushed, watching as you used your quirk to pass the physical test. The group standing around Mina would agree that you were very good at what you were doing.

“She’s very in control, and seems to understand how to use all of her quirk’s abilities.” Shoto appeared out of nowhere.

“Jeez! Shoto! We need to put a bell on you.” Mina laughed.

“Shoto, I don’t think I’ve heard you say something like that before.” Kirishima teased.

“I’ve said it, just not to you.” Shoto remarked, wearing a sly smile.

“Hey!” Kirishima laughed. Todoroki looked over at you and watched as you bested the test in front of you.

It seemed too easy almost. Or at least to you. Maybe it was just easy and progressively the tests would get harder. But alas, you finished with a high score, almost beating Bakugou, who you’d learned to be the blonde kid who seemed irritated by your arrival.

When the physical tests were finished, you all headed inside to do your assessment.

And you managed to come out on top this time, Bakugou scoring one below you, and a kid named Todoroki, who was the kid who sat in front of you, coming in third.

It wasn’t any sort of special assessment, just something to prove your knowledge in written form.

- - -

“(l/n), right?” Todoroki turned to face you.

“Yup.” You smiled, looking at the cute boy in front of you.

“You did really good out there today.” Todoroki complimented you.

“Thanks, you did really good too, and it’s Shoto, Todoroki right?” You made sure you had the right person in mind.

“You got it.” Shoto’s lips almost smiled. It must’ve been something he did rarely. You could almost see him fighting the urge to smile.

The corners of his lips were perked upward, but his lips stayed almost straight.

“If you’re not busy I could help you catch up, but I understand, we’re practically strangers.” Shoto offered. You’d missed a few lessons, and needed some notes to catch up, maybe taking his offer wouldn’t be so bad.

You might get to know about him more too. Why not?

“I’d like that actually, uhm, meet in the Library later?” You spoke softly.

“Library closes early today, some sort of faculty meeting, I can come to your dorm.” Shoto informed you. You nodded and pulled out a sheet of paper.

“About that, could you help me find it?” You said quietly, almost embarrassed. Todoroki’s eyes widened ever so slightly, the blush from earlier creeping back onto his cheeks.

You weren’t even trying to be cute, or funny, he was genuinely interested in you. And he was curious to know more about you.

- - -

“Here are the notes from the past few lessons, you really didn’t miss much, just the basics really, but it never hurts to go over them.” Shoto handed you his notebook. It was a maroon color, and had the title of the class labeled in the corner in small black marker.

“You have really amazing handwriting.” You complimented, looking up at him with a smile.

“T-Thanks.” Shoto stuttered. He smiled, but you’d looked away when he did it.

He watched as you scribbled down the notes, making little side notes on things you didn’t quite understand.

- - -

You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed. You’d talked with Shoto more, getting to know him and catching up with topics learned in class.

It was when you yawned that you realized it was pretty late.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you up so late.” You apologized, packing your things back into your bag.

“It’s alright, besides, I’m glad I could help out, and get to know you. You have a lot of potential.” Shoto spoke softly, handing you your notebook.

“Thanks.” You blushed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Until next time.” Shoto waved, heading out of your dorm. You were excited to see him the following morning, and unknown at the time, the following afternoon when you’d sit with him at lunch.

»»————-　★　————-««

masterlist

#shoto #todoroki #my hero academia #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki imagine #shoto todoroki fluff #shoto todorki #shoto todoroki scenario #todoroki x reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #todoroki fluff #imagine #x reader #reader insert #fluff #my hero academia x reader

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majesticnerdynerd · 3 years

Text

Author Interview Tag

I was tagged by @iris-best-taken-in-small-doses, thank you for tagging me! <3

Name: Vee

Fandoms: Primarily Sherlock BBC, but also RDJ Holmes, Harry Potter, and the Fallout games universe, plus Supernatural and bits of Doctor Who which I’ve seen and liked

Where you post: Ao3, I love this site

Most popular multi-chapter fic: So far it’s my first ever published fic from earlier of this godforsaken year, Harry Potter and the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes, which has just a few days ago surpassed 2k hits. It’s a crossover between HP/SH, and I must admit I do neglect it a little because I have a second fic I publish, which brings us to....

Favourite story you’ve written till date: Definitely Reichenbach Falls. I speed-wrote the first 8-and-a-bit episodes over the course of 2 months while also studying for transfer exams, and I keep my pace up and it is my main focus at the moment. It’s also the most ambitious crossover I’m attempting, because it is the Holy Trinity of SuperWhoLock, and a Gravity Falls AU, so it offers a lot of lore I am proud that I came up with. It has its own challenges I like to tackle, especially when it comes to intertwining characters from numerous TV shows to coherently worked together, plus their character arcs and character developments that are to come. I hide easter eggs here and there and put some of my soul into it, so it is very dear to me. I think I am doing the job adequately so far, but time will tell. :) I do love HPatAoSH, because it is my first fic ever and I am still excited about it, but I put it on the backburner and procrastinate on the chapters I post usually

Fic you were nervous to post: Both my big series, really. One never knows what reception they’re going to get, and we all hope to get the characters to interact just right. The HP crossover because it has two timelines that later intertwine in 1997 when the Golden Trio asks the Baker Street Dumbass Detective Duo for help and I need to make certain corrections in some earlier chapters. Reichenbach Falls because it is SuperWhoLock and as I said, it’s huge, 3 parts in 1 work, so 300 chapters give or take in total, and I hope to do my best with everyone’s characterisation.

How you choose your titles: Depends. HP/SH was a bit self-explanatory, and I think it fits well into the AU and foretells what’s up in a sense that you know who is involved and if you know both fandoms, you get a whiff of a couple shenanigans. Reichenbach Falls was a bit difficult to name and I stalled on it, but then on one hot summer day that I spent cowering inside the house like the pale gremlin I am, I thought hm,,,,, the show is called Gravity Falls, but I can’t use that of course. And then I remembered that Reichenbach is a thing, the waterfall is in canon as well and BAM - Reichenbach Falls. It’s all more about a sudden epiphany than hard thinking, it comes by itself.

Do you outline: Yes, but do I stick to it? Nah. I do write steps for each episode for RF, but those serve only as a mild reminder of what the end goal is, and I wing the rest to my standard. It works well so far. With HP/SH, I just wing it and rely on the past chapters because as I mentioned, I’m a sorrowful procrastinator on this one for now. My outlines are general which gives me space to improvise and improve on the run, which I like, it doesn’t restrict me in any self-induced way, so I prevent mental blocks nicely.

Complete: Living Musical, which is a one-shot I wrote for Steph from inevitably-johnlocked. Fluffy, too! And it needs revision because I wrote it in 4 hours until it was 1am and I have no recollection of that evening anymore. And... god, I need to fix the typos. *facepalms*

In Progress: HP/SH crossover and Reichenbach Falls I linked above already. They’re plenty to take care of :D

Coming soon/not yet started: this is what I am excited about! I have a new AU in mind, either some postapocalyptic wasteland AU, but most probably also an AU of the game Fallout: New Vegas at the same time (it’s basically the same concept). I have the basic plot in mind and down, and ohhhhh guysssss I really like it. I’d also like to make it an interactive fic where the readers may choose which factions John and Sherlock could join, which would affect the ending of the fic, much like what happens in the game, but I’m not decided on this. But there is great potential, I think, though I need to make a big mindmap and brainstorm all that would need to be involved, so there’s lots of lore to consider (which I already got started on). It would be another huge fic, and I plan to write at least half of all that could be published before sending it to ao3, possibly. We will see, but you can see how my mind is overworking itself already... >:) it looks quite badass (but that’s just me so far), and its working name is Fallout: New London. Actually, there’s a prologue and first two chapters that are constant (meaning that it is firmly locked to the AU and can’t be influenced by choices) and in progress already and semi-drafted because I am a psycho like that, but no details yet! I have no self-control.. but yeah, this is the biggest one I’m excited about out of all the fics my mind invents.

Do you accept prompts: ehhhh, maybehaps? I don’t know. Probably not at the moment, maybe in a year or so. I like the idea of doing Christmas prompts, so maybe in 300 days approximately, who knows?

Upcoming story you are most excited to write: Currently, it stays on Reichenbach Falls and its 2 later seasons, because that’s when things get real >:)) also Fallout: New London. so much johnlock in sight.

Upcoming story you are most excited about: Due to my lack of time at the present moment, I nowadays mostly revisit some comfort fics if I feel like shit, but I do keep my eye out on @iris-best-taken-in-small-doses‘ The Corvus That Calls at Night. I am subscribed to the ao3 profile so once it an email popped up and I saw ‘medieval’ and all the other priceless tags (pls check them out I love them) I went oo >:D I am merely waiting for my holiday spirit to kick in fully so I can put my feet up and catch up to my reading; there’s also @simplyclockwork‘s Hired Gun I keep my eyes on, and I patiently wait for @jbaillier‘s Messages From Deep Waters -- I remember that back in August(?) she posted a post about doing research on sea fish and how to gut them? Not sure on the English word or if I’m correct at all right now, but hmmm Scotland staged AU, I like that. Also her You Go To My Head stories that are coming, I love them dearly, and I am so excited there’s going to be more Medical Husbands content :’)

#sherlock fanfic #fanfic #ao3 #johnlock #superwholock #supernatural #doctor who #Reichenbach Falls #my fics #Sherlock

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edmund-valks · 3 years

Text

From Suramar to the Winter Court

"We… don't normally get your kind here. Then again, the living are hardly expected to be where the souls of the dead dwell. What you've shown me makes me think you would normally be… elsewhere. Perhaps among the Venthyr."

"Why is that?"

"They're the sort who help people work through their pasts."

"I don't need my past. I need a future. So I've come here, to find one. To make one."

"I don't understand…"

"Then let me explain more clearly…"

***

I was born to a family of musicians in Suramar, long after the Sundering. We lived in the grandest city on Azeroth, but could never leave it. The dome we lived beneath was our salvation as much as our cage. It was a tradeoff accepted by our ancestors; we had no choice but to live with it.

My parents were not rich. They had enough money to ensure all their children were tattooed, but only with the simplest patterns. Still, we did not struggle in my early days. Music brought joy, and everyone wanted more joy. We played and sang and did not starve.

As I got older, my voice changed. Never quite the singer my family needed, I became far worse as I progressed through adolescence. It wasn't technique; I know how to breathe, how to shape my mouth, how to project. My tone, however, and range… Well. They were of little use. I became accompaniment at best. I took up needlework to minimize the burden I'd become. Cunningly patched garments are no match for a soulful aria, though.

If I hadn't grown entirely out of youthful beauty, they could have at least hoped to gain by my marriage. Instead, my voice and face and body achieved unity in ugliness, none betraying the others by achieving. This would not have been an issue in the year of my birth, but life had become ever more lean in the city.

The poorest are always aware that they are, and we had become increasingly close to being among them. Our art paid the same as ever, but the cost to survive had grown. People had begun to disappear, though it was always those who you might expect: the lonely, the bitter, the rebellious. Perhaps, we told ourselves, they had finally committed a grand crime and gotten exiled. That was the punishment, you see -- banishment from the city. It meant you were cut off from the Nightwell. You would wither away without its magic to sustain you. The lucky went to sleep and never woke up. The others went mad.

As we were becoming progressively nearer to the bottom rung of the social ladder, the demons returned. We -- my people, not my family, even my great-grandparents were too young to recall this -- had fought them before. The shield that was our sky had been created then. This time… things were not so easy for us. The High Magistrix traded our sovereignty for our survival, and so the Legion came to live among us.

There was an outcry, of course, even some small acts of rebellion. None were successful. The leaders were either jailed or exiled, not executed. I think the idea was that death created martyrs, while exile simply made animals. Life changed little, is what I am getting at. The major difference was the Legion walking our streets, presumably making demands of our leaders. We were more concerned with surviving, so I can't say we worried too much about all that.

It was difficult, though. Those who could afford to purchase the joy of song were fewer and fewer, yet they were increasingly wealthy. If there had ever been such a thing as a middle class, it had effectively disappeared. The rich sacrificed nothing; the rest of us scraped by.

Except those who didn't. There were more disappearances. Sometimes there were raids. Usually the families taken away were related to someone known to be a criminal of some sort. It was easy not to notice or care. We were much more concerned with our own lives. The bottom was coming quickly, we knew.

My family tried with me. I know they did. Nobody could have guessed I would betray them by ending up a collection of flaws held together with collective disappointment. They would not miss me, I was certain, so I decided I would do some good for them. I left one night while they slept, heading down to the docks.

The demons were most common there. Intimidating though they were, I often felt their presence to be… not soothing, exactly, but more tolerable than others. At least when I stood beside a flayed-skin husk that fed on souls I could feel almost pretty. They ignored me, mostly, so I sought out those of my people who worked among them.

There was work to be had, you see. The Legion needed portals opened and maintained, portals that required someone act as the conduit to maintain them. It was not very skilled labour, but that was good. I lacked skill, possessing nothing but my relative youth and determination to no longer burden my parents with my disappointing existence. I became what the later rebellion called a collaborator. In exchange for helping the Legion to destroy our planet, I could improve my family's lives. It seemed a fair trade.

I was surprisingly good at the work. I learned quickly, and I tired far less easily than others. The demons and my supervisors taught me runes and cosmology that were typically reserved for those who could afford tutors. I was rewarded quite decently for my efforts, and I passed that along to my family. They lived better than ever because of me, but believed me dead. I'd requested that, you see. I wanted them to profit without knowing I was a collaborator. Let them think I had died in service to something useful or whatever, and that in so doing I had made sure they would survive. They didn't need to be any more disappointed than I'd already made them.

The problem was I finally understood where people were going. We brought the Legion in, maintained paths from the Twisting Nether and other Legion worlds, but that was the most innocuous of what was happening. The disappeared, those too far gone to be of use to Elisande's regime… they were taken elsewhere. They would be loaded onto boats or carts or cages mounted on the backs of horrible beasts I never learned the names of. And then they would be gone. I didn't know exactly where, though I learned the name: the soul engines.

What happened there was beyond my understanding. I knew as much as I needed: the poor went in, power came out. My work… well. I don't know if they were related. The Legion handled it, so I suppose I helped in that sense, but doing what I did was the only thing that kept me and my family from finding out more about the "process" first-hand. Perhaps I was involved in the murder of thousands? All I know is I saved at least seven lives.

…

I'm sorry, I'm not used to talking about all of this. It seems important to be honest here, so I'm trying. In all honesty, I don't take any responsibility for what was done. How could I? It wasn't my decisions that caused any of those things to happen. I did what I had to to survive. And I made them pay in the end.

Once the… second, I suppose, rebellion started in earnest, the system became increasingly strained. My hours lengthened. Several others became so burned out they were "sent home early", almost certainly a euphemism for being fed to the engines. Some were murdered for collaborating with the Legion, or Elisande, or whoever the rebels were mad at that day. I couldn't help them, any of them. My life -- and others' -- depended on keeping my head down. So I did.

I considered, though, and I thought. I was becoming very senior, at least by maintenance standards. The portal builders were under pressure as well, their numbers thinning or being pulled for other priority tasks. That left space for opportunities. I didn't want to be them, but I was capable of learning. That made me an apprentice of sorts, something I never would have been a decade earlier. My family lacked the resources to get me a mentor; the Legion invasion had given me one for free, while providing for their needs.

My education on runes happened at an aggressive pace. Every day was multiple practical exams, and if I failed it was likely to kill me. I didn't. I wasn't allowed many questions, so I made them count. I learned a great deal in those days. For instance, I discovered that a small instability introduced by a slightly malformed rune could cause a devastating energy backlash. Can you imagine what might happen if a system under strain began breaking down while under heavy use? People could die, especially if the portal structures are being kept constantly active with no downtime for repair.

…

I said I was trying to be honest, didn't I? I knew what I was doing would kill them. That was the idea. I only did it because I thought I could get away with it. While nobody would think a lowborn technician was smart enough to do it, they would still prefer to punish the "unskilled" over someone who went to the same academy or whatever. That made me safe, even if I was an obvious suspect. They needed me, and I wasn't like the others. I benefited from their system and never dissented. Would I have done it if I thought they might be less blind? I don't know. I'm not willing to die over principle. It won't prove a point to anyone, won't change the world. Nobody would remember my sacrifice, so no, I don't think I would. The world hasn't earned that from me, and I don't deserve to die. We all do what we must to survive.

***

"...So no, I'm not pursuing "redemption". I don't have sins weighing me down. What I am is… curious. This is the world my people once knew, back long ago, isn't it? Where the only magic is that of the world around? We kept the night for millennia, but missed out on what that meant beyond our walls."

The fae hovered for a moment on her great wings, what could have been a shiver rippling through her fur. "I-I'm still not sure you're going to like it here. You don't seem the sort to laugh."

"There hasn't been much to laugh about in my life," the shal'dorei snapped. She took a breath, continuing on more softly. "Besides, I don't plan to stay forever. We are helping each other. Perhaps you can help me laugh."

Blinking several times, the creature was clearly hesitant, but desperate times did come with special rules. "We… can certainly try! Um. Come along, let's get you introduced to everyone, Miss…?"

"Ciscandra," she answered, deliberately omitting a surname. "Thank you."

#wow rp #warcraft rp #ciscandra

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ahgasescenarios · 4 years

Text

Corrupting the Innocent Pt. 5 (final)- Dong Sicheng

Word count: 2.2k

Genre: fluff/smut

Plot summary: In which (Y/N) decides to “help” innocent exchange student Sicheng win over his crush. Except she has ulterior motives and Sicheng is too clueless to notice.

a/n: hi loves!! I hope you enjoyed this last part and the series more generally, I honestly worked so hard on this one. I hope you’re all staying safe and don’t be shy to pop in my inbox with requests or just to chat, I’d love to talk to you guys xx

You lay in bed for what seemed like an eternity, ignoring the pleading cries of your stomach or your body aching for movement. Is this what heartbreak felt like? Why did people go through with relationships if it always ended like this? You kept picturing scenarios of Sicheng and you, daydreaming of what could’ve been and it did nothing to improve your state. What was it that had made you care? You blinked back a tear before it sunk in that this wasn’t you, you didn’t mope around waiting for life to happen.

If you want things done right, you have to do them yourself.

That was one of the only things you had learned from your adoptive parents, that and how not to raise your own children if you ever had any. You freshened yourself up, masking your dark circles and damaged skin with some makeup.

A friendly face was just what you needed, you thought as you looked over at Rosé and a few other friends sitting across from you at the same café Sicheng had taken you to what seemed like forever ago.

“Any luck with Jaehyun?” You directed at Rosé.

“No, turns out Johnny is more my type and we’ve got ourselves an arrangement so, it’s a win-win.” She smiled; you had noticed this new glow about her- perhaps he was as good of a fuck as you had heard? Nevertheless, you were happy for her. She looked good, happy. It was a good look on her.

You made small talk until your drinks arrived and you melted in the comfort of a warm mug of coffee, it did wonders to your soul. You felt eerily out of touch with reality, present but not really. You felt out of place, out of sorts and it was so foreign, so weird. Just as you recollected the last exchange you had with Sicheng, your eyes landed on a side profile you knew all too well. He was with his friends as well, at the other end of the café.

You were staring, and eventually, he was too. It proved suddenly quite difficult to breathe when his eyes met yours and you retreated to the bathroom to regain your composure. These feelings were all so new, so foreign that you honestly didn’t know how to handle any of them. It felt as though they were all lurking over your shoulder, a second away from crashing over you. You’d never felt like this about someone and yet you’d been doing this backward, breaking up before you were even together. One look in the mirror told you you were far from being okay, but you took a deep breath and any trace of Sicheng was long gone by the time you got back. It was for the best, you guessed.

You chose to prioritize sleep and homework for the remainder of the semester albeit there were only a few weeks left in the term. It proved to be a difficult task as the sheer volume of your notes mocked you, you’d never get everything done in time. You almost agreed with them but giving up sleep proved successful as you handed in all papers on time and completed exams okay enough.

Occasionally, you’d bump into Sicheng in the hall, but he’d avoid your gaze and be on his way. You didn’t allow it to put a damper on your mood. Funny enough, you hadn’t felt the need to seek out someone new after him, it wouldn’t be the same and the idea didn’t ignite anything in you as it once had. Besides, your partner in crime had somewhat settled, why couldn’t you do the same?

Some of us are getting drinks to celebrate end of term, you in?

Your eyes looked over Rosé’s text over and over again, debating whether this was a good idea or not. You ended up giving in to the devil on your shoulder beckoning you to “have some fun!”. It was just a few drinks with friends, what was the harm in that?

Once you saw what you were working with, you gasped. Your skin begged for a skincare routine; one you had discarded after everything that had happened. It only took an hour and what felt like two inches of makeup to make you look, and feel, decent-looking. You went back to that section of your closet and pulled out a relatively slutty dress (if there was such a thing). Now you were ready.

On your first drink, you bantered with your friends. You were all exhilarated to have some freedom once again, no longer chained to the boulder that was university. The second drink had you starting a game of truth or dare.

“Rosé, truth or dare?”

“Hmmm, truth.” She always went for truth.

“Is Johnny THAT big?” The curious girl licked her lips in anticipation and Rosé chuckled, as though recalling a funny anecdote.

“Oh, yes sweetie. But that D is mine.”

A few turns later, you were the one under spotlights.

“(Y/N), truth or dare?” Jennie was the one asking the question, part of Rosé’s close circle of friends.

“You know what, dare,” Jennie smirked, an agenda of her own.

“I dare you to call Sicheng, right now.”

You nearly choked on your drink.

“I’m gonna need a few more drinks first.”

“Promise?” She inquired and you reluctantly nodded, “Fine, then I dare you to down the rest of your drink.”

That you could do. You prayed Jennie would forget about her initial dare, but you were out of luck. A few shots later, here you were, dialing Sicheng’s number. You hadn’t planned what you were going to say, but you were too drunk to even care now. Besides, what did it matter?

“Hello?” A voice thick with sleep answered back. Oops, you hadn’t considered the time.

“Hiiii.”

“(Y/N), why are you calling me?”

“Because,” you pouted “I miss you. And I’m sorry.”

“You’re drunk.” Deep sigh.

“But I mean it, Sicheng. I really really like you and I know I ruined everything, but I just wanted you to know that.”

“Where are you?”

“Take care Sicheng, I’m sorry I’m such a shitty person. I wish I wasn’t. Bye.” You hung up after a few attempts, the buttons on your phone blurring before your eyes. The girls giggled and applauded your courage. Only Rosé looked back at you with a concerned look on her face.

“Wake up.” You opened your eyes, excruciating pain in your entire body. Oh god, you had fallen asleep on the sidewalk. When had you ever gone outside to begin with? Desperately trying to piece together the how and the when, you were clueless as to whom the voice belonged to.

“Come on, I’m taking you home.” Wait, you knew that voice.

“Sicheng, what-“

He shushed you, motioning for you to hop on his back so he could carry you home. You complied; this was probably the last time you’d get to touch him, might as well make the most of it. You couldn’t believe this would be the last image he’d have of you, what a joke.

It hadn’t been hard for him to track you down, there were only a few bars the uni students visited and lucky for him, you had been at the first one he had burst into. Why he had gone looking for you in the first place, he didn’t know. Maybe it was that seeing you had reminded him of your times together and as furious as he was with you, he knew you. And he knew why you would think that sex was your only gateway to love. Maybe that was why he was now sitting your bed, braiding your hair to keep it from getting in the way in case you were a puke-until-I-pass-out kind of drunk.

“Wait- can you stay?” You looked up at him with pleading eyes. How could he resist? You looked so desperate and sweet, for him. He opened the covers for you, and you snuggled up against him, reveling in the feeling of his warm body against yours. He laid there, unsure of what to do and ended up falling asleep too.

You opened your eyes groggily, your head felt like it had construction workers doing their harshest work up there. You had taken one too many shots the night prior, that much you could tell. Only then did you feel warmth from the other side of the bed, and in fact, you were met with the sight of a sleeping Sicheng. You laid there in shock for as long as it took Sicheng to wake up and face your bemused visage.

“Morning.” He half-smiled. He had slept like a baby, ironically the last few months had been ridden with insomnia up until now.

“You’re still here.”

“I am.”

“Why?” Your voice gave away your shock.

“Well, you did ask me to.” He paused, sitting up. “And I figured you had punished yourself enough. What you did was horribly wrong, (Y/N), but I feel like I know you enough to understand why you felt that was the only way you could do things.” You gulped.

“And honestly, I missed you and I just want to start over.” He stretched his long limbs lazily.

“I’d love that.” You smiled from ear to ear.

“On one condition.” He pointed an accusing finger in your direction, and you tensed in your seat. “There’s still one thing you haven’t taught me yet.”

He took hold of your hand and placed it on his morning wood. Your eyes widened. Oh, that’s what he meant.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me wait longer, (Y/N), I’ve wanted to fuck you ever since I laid eyes on you.” The foulness of the words spewing out of Sicheng’s mouth only aroused you further and you were quick to do something about it.

You rid him of his boxers and licked your lips at the sight of his shaft. You kissed his tip, trailed your tongue down to his base, earning a hiss from above. Once you had him thrusting up in your mouth begging for more, you decided it was enough teasing. This time.

“Sit up.” He obeyed your command.

You took off your panties and crawled back to him. He looked so handsome, exposed for you like this and with as much carnal desire as you. It was a sight you’d vow to keep engraved in your mind forever. He brought you in for a kiss, his eyes glowing with awe of your naked form. You motioned to sit on his dick but you were interrupted mid-way.

“Wait- I want to do something for you too.”

This piqued your interest and you guided his fingers along your folds and he experimentally brought them in and out, awaiting further instructions. Your moans proved to be more than enough as he maintained a steady rhythm, holding back a confident smirk.

“Fuck, (Y/N), look at you. Such a moaning mess for me.”

Oh, and he was a talker, that you could get used to. He kept this up for a little while, until:

“I don’t mean to rush anything, but can I fuck you now?”

You chuckled, even now he was such a gentleman asking for permission. You squirmed out of his touch and quickly sunk down on his dick, giving yourself a second to adjust to his size. His hands found your ass and he made it clear he wanted you to move. And you did, slowly at first until Sicheng grew tired of your pace and flipped you over so he was on top.

“Don’t be a tease.” His only justification.

You hadn’t taken him for a dom, but then again you had been wrong about a lot of things. For his first time, he was exceeding expectations. He connected your lips in another heated kiss silencing another one of your moans and kept up his relentless pace. Your hand reached down to massage your clit and you were surprised to see him take over for you, his thumb doing wonders to your bundle of nerves as he explored your body. Your soft voice bellowing requests every so often had him becoming an expert in no time. Before long, you were moaning out his name, clenching around his shaft as you chased your high. Sicheng hissed at the feeling, your walls tightening around him nearly sending him over the edge. A panicked expression took over his features.

“Where do I-“

You pointed to your stomach and he moaned again, releasing his hot load all over your naked body. You got cleaned up as he rode out his orgasm, dazed by the pleasure by the time you came back. Your fingers played with Sicheng’s hair lovingly, now cuddled up in bed.

“How did I do?” He asked, a tang of innocence still present.

“Not bad at all. I think we should do that much more.” You paused. “You know, to practice.” You teased and this earned a laugh from the boy beside you, you couldn’t help but join in. Your love story was far from normal, sure, but you were happy. And you’d like to think that Sicheng was too.

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write-like-you-mean-it · 4 years

Text

A Hunter’s Prey: A Young Boy’s Trauma

Killua arrived in 4 weeks. The countdown of Killua’s return made learning Nen even more difficult and taxing than previous attempts. Rather than learning at my own pace, I had to speed through training that might take years to complete. The closest I ever got to this level of training was when I trained with Illumi. However, Gon’s training was relentless. We would always awake at the crack of dawn, followed by a small run around the forest, and lastly Nen training until I collapsed from exhaustion.

My only solace has been the heartache of missing Illumi finally dulled to a painful throb only felt when I had failed once again to hold Nen in my body for the full time. The two hour mark became a pain in my ass. I’d barely been able to break over 30 minutes within the past week that we’d been training.

“C-can we take a small break?” I asked after collapsing for the third time of the day. Gon had taken a seat on a moss covered rock that overlooked the sea and myself. He wasn’t paying attention to me. Even his childlike mind had too much stuffed into the time he’d been alive. I sighed while taking a seat next to him. “Gon?” I questioned in hopes of gaining his attention.

The boy finally turned to look at me with the plastered smile on his face. This time it didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh, yeah a break is fine.” With his untampered arm, he handed me my water bottle.

We looked out at the crashing waves far from the shore. A small tension filled the air as I wondered if I should ask him about what took up so much space in his mind. My hands absentmindedly played with blades of grass as the ocean breeze fluttered through my hair.

“Gon, what might be on your mind. You seem distracted today.”

His eyes never left a far off point in the sea. They were like a wandering traveler who was only here as a stop and knew the better and bigger world that awaited him beyond the shore; yet, he couldn’t go. “Yeah, I’m alright. Watching you use Nen makes me miss my own power.”

“What type of Nen did you have?”

“I am an enhancer. I use a rock, paper, scissors thing called Jajanken. It is so cool. I can demonstrate it for you,” said the boy with excitement returning to his demeanor. He stood up on top of the rock before he realized what he was doing. The physical manifestation of realization followed by sadness took over his small frame. “Or I could if I did have Nen. I am lucky though. I’m still alive.”

“What happened to make you lose your Nen?” I asked. Gon stepped off of the rock and sat back down onto it.

“I’ll tell you once you get to an hour,” he said before pulling out the timer once again. “You’re at 45 minutes. You’ve had a break for long enough.” His tone had sharpened like a knife. The awkward tension returned and fluttered with the ocean air.

I stood up and returned to my state of Ren. “I’m sorry,” was all I could say.

--------

Soon it was only 3 weeks until Killua’s return. I hadn’t made much more progress. Every single day felt like my body was splitting into two separate pieces. What was even worse was that Gon was refusing to help me as much as before. I don’t know what I said that ticked him off so much.

At this point in training, I’d been able to hold my Nen for 55 minutes. Too short for any explanation and long enough that I didn’t have as much time in the day. With sleeping, I had at most 7 hours to practice.

The morning runs became more difficult as Gon didn’t let me catch up to him anymore. He began sprinting through the forest; however, I did not have his experience. Unlike him, I did not grow up in the forest. I was stuck following in his footsteps rather than matching pace. Once arriving at the same mountaintop, we’d practice Nen.

Today, I was determined to hit that dreaded 1 hour mark. I had to or I would never get close to meeting the goal set by Gon. For hours, Gon would sit on the rock overlooking the ocean and watch the timer. He did nothing else for he was lost in his sea of thoughts.

Part of him reminded me of Illumi. His quietness reminded me of Illumi and I’s first meeting. Illumi was always so quiet and lost in his own thoughts. It wasn’t until he finally opened up to me that I could actually love him.

Illumi’s words of how no one has ever loved him before filled my heart. Because of everything that happened after we consumed our love, I forgot to digest the words. The pain sent a sting straight to my heart. Illumi only ever wanted love and I was the first person to give it to him.

My mind wandered to him sitting on that boat in the middle of the ocean. Was he alright? Was he still alive? How is Machi and Chrollo doing? During these weeks, I started to get nightmares about the events that had happened. Machi and Chrollo blame me for not being stronger. If only I had a way to control my power then Hisoka wouldn't have… No. I can’t blame myself for actions that happened in the past.

“One hour,” remarked Gon.

“Huh?” I questioned while dropping Ren.

“You’ve made it to a full hour. I’m a little surprised.”

“Oh. It’s already been an hour?” I looked out over the sea to see the sun had dramatically lowered in the sky. “I hadn’t noticed.” I took my seat next to Gon.

“I could tell.”

He, once again, handed me my water bottle as I took a full sip. I, also, hadn’t realized how thirsty I had become. While finishing the full bottle I remembered our conversation from a week ago. Would he want to discuss his past with me? Should I bring it up? I decided to try with a small “so…”

“I lost my Nen when I almost died. Alluka saved me from myself. If Killua hadn’t been there for me then I would’ve lost everything.” His words fell from his lips as if he was an adult recounting a time in his childhood. Gon continued, “A close friend of mine died because I wasn’t strong enough. His name was Kite. When he died, it was the second time he’d saved me. I owe Kite and Killua everything.”

“Kite? I’ve heard that name before,” I said while thinking back in my memory. “I think he was a contracted support for my work many years ago. I don’t remember much of him because I didn’t see him after the initial meeting. He’s a stoic quiet guy. My old boss never said anything bad about him. I’m sorry he lost his life.”

“Yeah, Kite was a good man.”

“You have a lot of good people in your life, Gon.”

Gon finally turned to look at me. He sniffed a bit while wiping his eyes with the unbroken hand. “You’re right.” I instinctively, wrap my arms tightly around this crying child. I hold him as he sobs deep, emotional trauma. From the cries, I could tell these were all emotions that had yet to be processed in his mind or he was still going through them.

“It’s okay,” I say, still holding him in my tired frame. “Everything will be alright.”

“Killua has always been there for me and when he needed me the most, I was too busy with my own thoughts. I hurt him so much and I-I don’t know how to..” His voice cut off back into another sob.

I held this crying child until his sobs turned into the shaky hiccups after a long cry. “Gon, explain what happened.”

“I went after Kite’s killer. She was so powerful that I had to use all the Nen left for the rest of my life. I told Killua that this fight wasn’t with him and that he should leave. So he did. I-I did mean to. I was just hurt and in so much pain and Killua wouldn’t understand. He couldn’t-”

“Gon, it’s okay. Killua saved you. He still cares about you. He’ll return. That’s all that matters. Truly, I’m more upset with the fact they allowed you on such a dangerous mission that could’ve gotten you killed.”

“It’s alright. I wanted to go. I had to save Kite but I should’ve brought Killua along. He is my best friend and I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

A smile crossed my face as Gon wiped away a few tears. The sun had fully set at this point. Darkness crept up on us. “Would you like some dinner from Aunt Mito? I don’t know about you but I’m starving.”

“Sure, Gon,” I smiled but after that day, I didn’t look at him like a child again.

--------

Only two more weeks until Killua would arrive. Time was running shorter and shorter. Everything felt like a ticking time bomb. Frustration grew as I couldn’t seem to grasp holding onto my Nen for more than an hour and 15 minutes. I only had such a short time.

After Gon’s confession, he finally was able to open up to me more. He told me about everything that happened with York New and about his friends Leorio and Kurapika. He told me about his adventures at the Hunter exam. He told me about Greed Island and the hunt for his dad. Lastly, he told me about meeting his dad.

The more stories he told me, the easier it was to hold my Nen. Within the past year, Gon held such an interesting life. Part of me wished that he’d tell me about what happened with Kite but I knew better than asking. Instead, I learned more about Gon than any other child.

It was nice to sit and listen to someone else talk. Illumi was never a talker.

“So when’s the wedding?” asked Gon. His question caught me off guard but I was still able to focus on the true task at hand.

“We haven’t picked a date or anything. Truly he asked me less than a month ago. I don’t know when we’ll get a chance. Most likely it’ll be at some place expensive as he is a Zoldyck.”

“Do you know that means you’ll be related to Killua?” asked Gon while jumping up and down.

I laugh and reply, “I’ll also be related to Milluki and Kalluto.”

“Wait, you've met Killua’s other siblings?”

“Yes, I have lived at the Zoldyck manor for a quarter of a year. We had a family dinner once which was a shitshow.”

“How’s Killua’s dad and mom. He rarely talks about them beyond what his father forced him to do as a kid.”

“Oh well his father is domineering and a presence. His mother is a nutcase. She’s a little crazy but so is his brother. Killua’s grandfather is cool though. He helped me with my Nen just like you. With Illumi’s family, it’s no wonder how he ended up the way he was.”

“Are you excited to be a part of the family?”

I’m not sure. They might actually kick us out of the house as Illumi isn’t the one to inherit the Zoldyck name. We haven’t really talked about it.”

“Illumi should inherit it. Killua hates his family. Illumi would be a much better head of the house than Killua anyway. He doesn’t want to become anything like his father.”

“Neither does Illumi. He only wants to be praised and loved.”

Gon looked at me a little strangely. “Same with Killua. Maybe you’ll be able to convince them to finally talk.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I chuckle while thinking how that conversation may go. Finally I released my Nen and felt the same exhaustion as before.”

“One hour and 16 minutes,” said Gon.

“Shit.

-----

One more week. One more week and I only felt weaker than before. At the week deadline, I climbed out of bed only for my stomach to churn and force me into the bathroom. The hotel room had become a new home for me. Throwing up last night’s meal given to me by Mito was disappointing. Mito was almost as delicious of a cook as she was kind hearted. Gon had been inviting me back to his house after training because I’d been here so long.

I knew I’d not felt well the day before but I chalked it up to finally getting within the 1:45 mark on time. Instead, I knew this was a whole new feeling. I hadn’t felt this sick in ages. My head ached and I’d become tired so quickly.

Standing over the porcelain bowl gave me a clarity that I had yet to have in the month since Illumi had vanished from my grasp. I muttered a quiet “shit” before emptying everything in my stomach once again.

I decided to cancel training for the first time ever. Even over the phone, I could hear Gon’s sadness. He asked if he could bring soup over later. I obliged his request.

Instead of staying in bed and trying to sleep it off, I decided to take a quick trip to the drug store. If my suspicions were right, I’d have a new problem on my hands.

My hands grazed over the test that lay on the bathroom counter. I’d only taken it a few minutes ago but my hands were already shaking. I closed my eyes and held up the plastic test so that it was in eyeshot when I opened my eyes.

As expected, the words “pregnant” lit up the screen. “Shit. Illumi got his wish.” I chucked the test across the room before lying back onto the bed with a million questions in my head. All of them falling to one answer, we never used protection.

#illumi #illumi x reader #HunterXHunter #hxh #a hunter's prey #chapter 36

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