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meltwonu · 4 years ago

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| 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔦 𝔪𝔢𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲 | [CHAPTER 4]

pairing; fratboy!wonwoo x reader

this chapter’s notes; fratboy!wonwoo, fingering, littlest bit of dirty talk, praise!kink, soft soft soft FLUFF hours, a bit of a filler chapter before the last chapter!! 😭 I can’t believe it’s almost ‘over’... This chapter has the least amount of smut yall will ever see with fratboy!wonwoo so don’t get used to it ☠️ LMAO 🤣🤣 also... it’s been a garbage week(boring work drama) for me so I’ll answer inbox msgs and stuff on sunday, I need to get away from the internet(and people) for a day dkfjhskh 😭💕 Ya’ll thank you for so much love and support with Caffeine and Until I Met You! It means so much to me and I appreciate every like, reblog and comment I get on it 🥺💕 No I will never be ending my fratboy!wonwoo au so don’t worry about that hehe 💕 For now, enjoy this soft ch 4 and I will see yall on Sunday! I love you, have a great weekend! 💕

[mood for this chapter: more than enough - alina baraz]

chapters; 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - x

“So…”

Wonwoo sighs - re-shelving another Edgar Allen Poe book. “So, what?”

Mingyu tilts his sunglasses down, eyebrows raised at the older male that continues to do his job instead of give him the time of day. “What’s going on with you, hyung? You’ve been… weird.”

“Okay, define weird.”

The younger male pouts as he takes his sunglasses off, pocketing them as he leans up against the bookshelf that Wonwoo is currently still shelving.

It only takes one utterance of your name for Wonwoo to stop in his tracks - fingertips on the spine of another book as he turns to Mingyu. “What about her? Did she say something to you?”

“No, but do you like her? I mean, ‘like’ like her.”

“Is it not… obvious? That I do? Did we not all collectively have that conversation about me giving her a set of keys to our house?”

Mingyu grimaces slightly as he mentally goes through all the times he’d even seen the two of you together and he’s only able to conjure up a few select memories - none of which were anything necessarily romantic. “Well… I wouldn’t say ‘obvious’, I guess. The two of you aren’t exactly the ‘kiss and hold hands in public’ kind of... people. More like the, ‘sneak off to fuck in a public restroom’ kind... Which, uh, isn’t really... romantic.”

This time, Wonwoo crosses his arms and leans up against the opposite bookshelf as he sighs.

It’d been a few days since he’d seen you and you’d been swamped in so much class work that you didn’t even have the time to come by the library or the frat house. And even while Wonwoo stood in between the bookshelves having a conversation with Mingyu, you were finishing an art project with Minghao that was due by the end of the day.

“I know. I told her it’d be kind of a slow crawl for me.” He plucks another book from the cart, staring at the glossy text as he simmers in his thoughts. “Mingyu, am I awkward?”

“Erm, well, I wouldn’t say that necessarily.”

Mingyu steps forward, patting Wonwoo on the shoulder as he smiles.

“You like her and you’re trying even if you’re not used to it. You gotta start somewhere, hyung. Even if you’re a fish out of water. But that’s okay, you can ask me for help if you want!”

“When are you gonna put a ring on Wonwoo-hyung?”

You snort at Minghao’s question - reaching for a clean paintbrush as he stands across from you in the large, empty studio. “First of all, can you not say it like that? I’m not gonna marry him, okay.”

The male rolls his eyes as he steps closer to you; his own hands and clothes covered in a colorful array of paints. “So you’re saying you never imagined hyung in a suit, hair slicked back and his buff arms carrying you off into your honeymoon?”

“W--wh--n--no! No, I haven’t!” You avoid his piercing stare as you focus on your end of the large canvas instead.

No, but I dreamt about it once.

“‘Hao, would you hurry! We’re supposed to be collaborating on this and it looks… like it’s 5 different art styles.”

“Don’t change the subject on me. And anyway, I like what you’re doing to hyung. Breaking him out of his shell, y’know? He’s just shy, that’s all. Needs a little work in the bold department.”

You bite down the urge to laugh because to you, Wonwoo was everything but shy when it came to the bedroom. Although, Minghao was right with everything else. “Yeah, I know. We went for breakfast together after I, um, stayed over a few nights ago and he kinda just sat there zoned out, picking at his waffles. He’s really cute when he wakes up in the morning though. Pouty and whiny.”

Grinning at Minghao, he pretends to gag in response before taking a seat next to you.

“Disgusting. Tell me more.”

Wonwoo makes an effort to check in with you throughout the day before he heads back to his room - asking you if you’d had your meals and if you’d finished your project on time.

You’d answered sporadically as you and Minghao raced to finish.

‘I’ll eat late probably… rly gotta finish or else my ass is failing lol’

‘Just don’t forget, okay? It’s not good for you to skip.’

Wonwoo lays down in his bed; yawning as he sets his phone onto the nightstand next to himself.

His eyelids feel heavy and he’s quick to give in to the tiredness that takes over him once he gets comfortable.

When Wonwoo finally decides to shift during his nap, he finds it difficult and extra warm.

“Mmh…”

His bleary eyes adjust to the, now, slightly darkened room as he makes out your figure tucked underneath his arm. He calls your name softly - waking you up from the nap that you’d apparently joined him in.

“Mmh… Wonwoo…” You snuggle in deeper, voice still laced with sleep. “You didn’t even budge when I came in…”

He chuckles softly as he readjusts to spoon you from behind instead; his strong arm wrapped around your waist to keep your body flush against his own.

“I’m surprised you came by, sweetheart. I would’ve just stayed awake had I known you were coming over.” His voice is groggy and laced with sleep as you sigh softly in return as you blink away the sleepiness.

“How was your day at the library? Miss me yet?” Wonwoo smiles into your shoulder before he tilts his head up to kiss the shell of your ear.

“Always, sweetheart. Although, Mingyu decided to keep me busy today.”

“Oh? Anything fun?”

He plays with the hem of your shirt, “Well… Fun isn’t the word I’d use to describe what that was. Nosy was more like it.”

This time you can’t help but snort in response. “You too? I think some people were being ‘lil moles today.”

“Wouldn’t doubt it. Did you end up just coming back here with Minghao from the studio?”

“Wasn’t planning on it, to be honest but… S’been a rough day.” Placing your hand over his arm, you squeeze slightly as you pull his arm around you tighter. “Our professor came by while we were working in the studio and said our project wasn’t up to par with what Minghao and I usually submit for projects. She didn’t fail us on the spot but she said we need to redo it for less credit or take the failing grade.”

Wonwoo nuzzles your neck; peppering small kisses on your clothed shoulder. “I take it the two of you are going to redo it?”

“Mm… We spent so long coming up with a concept and now we’re both stressed about coming up with something new. I walked over here with ‘Hao and he locked himself up in his room as soon as we got here. Figured I’d come hang out with you and found you napping… With your glasses on, no less.”

The two of you share a laugh; Wonwoo’s embrace making you feel more at ease.

“Can I help you de-stress a little, sweetheart?”

You stare at the opposite wall, nodding gently as Wonwoo’s hand leaves the hem of your shirt in favour of the waistband of your shorts.

“Just want you to feel good,” he whispers. “You deserve it. You’ve been working so hard, baby.”

He teases you softly; fingertips ghosting across your skin as you shiver. “Ah, Wonwoo…”

“You worked extra hard today too, didn’t you? I’m so proud of you for what you accomplished today.”

Your body heats up at his praise and you can’t deny that his deep, soft voice sends thrums of arousal pouring over your body just as he dips his hand into your lounge shorts. He touches you over your panties - fingertips ghosting against your mound as you moan his name shakily in return.

“I know your new idea is going to be great, baby. I believe in you.”

Soft whines threaten to spill as Wonwoo strokes you over your panties - slowly working you up as you find yourself trying to grind against his hand. “Y-yeah… ‘m p-pretty sure ‘Hao’s already working on it…”

Your voice is barely above a whisper as Wonwoo continues to stroke you gently; making no efforts to rush or add pressure to his feather-light touches.

A disappointed noise falls from your lips when he starts to pull his hand out of your shorts but it quickly turns into a content sigh when he starts teasing your chest instead.

“Mm, so soft…” Muttering against your shoulder, his eyes stare off into the dark room as he massages your body. “And all mine~”

You hum in response, “We should go on a date sometime…”

“You want to? We can go this weekend. After you’ve redone some of your project. I’ll take you somewhere nice for a job well done.”

You giggle softly; images of a wedding day’s Wonwoo dancing in your mind after the conversation you’d had with Minghao earlier. “I’d like that. We should do something for the whole day.”

“Whatever you’d like, baby.”

Wonwoo’s hand flits down your body again - snaking into your shorts and, this time, into your panties as you whine. “Do you wanna cum or go back to sleep, hmm?”

You ponder it for a second as the drowsiness equates the urge to cum on his fingers.

“Both? I wanna cum and then sleep a little more... If that’s okay?”

Wonwoo hums in agreement as his fingertips drag through your folds - collecting the wetness on them before he teases your soaked hole. “Only a little teasing gets you this wet, hmm? So cute.”

“Ah, f-feels good when you go slow t-too...”

He stores that away in his head for later; chuckling against your shoulder as he slowly starts to dip his middle finger into your cunt.

You feel warm and content when he starts a slow pace - thumb on your clit rubbing soft, slow circles while he pumps his finger into you.

“O-oh, Wonwoo...”

“You’re always good for me, baby. Always such a good girl.”

“Ah, Wonwoo...”

“You can cum whenever you want. You deserve it.”

He adds his index finger - thrusting both fingers into you as you mewl and arch away from his warm chest. Your toes curl and your thighs clamp and trap his hand between your legs as you start to grind down onto his nimble fingers.

“...W--Wonwoo...”

“That’s right, baby. Call my name, let me hear your pretty voice when your cumming for me.”

You turn your head - cries muffled into his pillow because despite his slower than usual pace, you find yourself already on the brink of cumming with his fingers knuckle deep inside of you and his thumb on your clit.

“Mmh... Ah... Feels s-so warm... and g-good...” You mutter, eyes blinking drowsily. “Gonna c-cum...”

He doesn’t say anything in return as he focuses on you and your pleasure; fingers scissoring and curling right into your g-spot as you clamp down onto them in a vice grip.

Wonwoo knows when you’re about to cum when he feels your hand coming down on his forearm, holding onto him for dear life when your orgasm still hits you just as hard.

“Ngh, Wo---Wonwoo!”

Your walls flutter around his fingers and make it harder for him to thrust them in and out with how tight you get.

“That’s my good girl. Cum for me, baby~”

His deep voice makes you whine - nails digging into his arm and body trembling as the pleasure steadily washes over you.

“Ah, bet your face is so pretty right now too~”

“Mmh, s-stop...” Your cheeks burn in slight embarrassment from his constant praise but you can’t deny the way it goes straight to your core and only prolongs your orgasm.

“Don’t be so shy, baby. It’s only you and me here.”

Wonwoo leans away slightly to kiss the crown of your head - still working you through your orgasm as you sigh contentedly in his arms.

Various thoughts run through his head in the moment, but the one that sits at the forefront of his mind is definitely how to make sure he kept treating you right.

Starting with your date that he would spend time meticulously planning.

‘Ah, I should ask Mingyu for some advice.’

#wonwoo smut #wonwoo fluff #seventeen smut #svt smut #seventeen fluff #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios #svt imagines #wonwoo fic #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #uimy_meltwonu

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sundaysundaes · 5 years ago

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Before Our Story Began

Lee Donghyuck/Haechan X Reader | Smut, Fluff | 7.4k | College AU Summary: The popular new kid at your campus has this habit of raising his eyebrows when he flirts and you just realized that maybe you have a kink for it.

It has the same setting as my previous Mark Lee X Reader’s stories (Our First Time and Drunk Antics) but if you’re not into Mark (I’m not judging but what is wrong with you) you can just skip those two because this story can be read separately.

Before dating the socially-awkward, yet utterly adorable Mark Lee, you have had your fair share of relationships that are now reduced into the form of awkward friendships. Your last boyfriend was Lee Donghyuck—who also publicly known as Haechan—and that fact does not sit well with Mark, because well, they were the best of friends. They still are, but it feels like they’re walking on thin ice whenever you’re in the picture so you try your best to stay away from your ex just to make sure everything is all right with the three of you.

Which is quite weird, knowing how close you were with Haechan before.

It was weird in the beginning, but fate really did play a major role in your relationship. You were in your second year of college and you’d managed to pull yourself together by that time, though you hadn’t really made any real friends yet. You weren’t aware of Mark’s existence either at that point, though he probably had with him being your long-time secret admirer after all. You were too busy trying to adapt to the new college and dormitory life, as well as trying to keep your grades up, that you could barely spend some time socializing with people. Project partners and study buddies were really as far as you could go with the term of friendship during your first year.

Your relationship didn’t exactly start as friends with Lee Donghyuck. Even though he had made tons of friends since his orientation days in college, you were certainly not one of them. You didn’t even know he existed in your world, and neither did he. Younger than both you and Mark, Haechan shone like the sun almost in every aspect of his life and unlike you, people had surely noticed that because he was academically smart, physically good-looking, very social and adventurously funny. It didn’t take long before he became popular at your campus. So popular, in fact, that you heard chatters of his name when you walked down the campus’ hallway with your textbooks in your arms. You had only known his name but not his face, so you didn’t really feel nervous or overly excited like any other girls would’ve probably had when you accidentally sat next to him during public speaking class and saw that he had a silly note stuck on his back, pressed against his black hoodie.

“Hey,” you called, loud enough for him to hear but quiet enough so the people around you wouldn’t notice. “You’ve got something on your back.”

The boy was young, and he had the smoothest golden skin you’d ever seen on a boy. You would probably kill to have his perfect sun-kissed skin. He had slightly chubby cheeks and a mop of dark brown hair with bangs falling over his eyes. He was slouching forward in his seat with his arms draped over his table, staring lifelessly at the board. His lower lip was jutting out in boredom and slight annoyance, reminding you of a five-year-old boy missing his favorite cartoon. He threw a glance to the side, looking at you with big, chocolate brown eyes, and his eyebrows raised in question.

“What?” He asked and you pointed to the back of his hoodie with your pen.

“I won’t judge if it’s the kind of thing you’re into,” you said, “but I don’t think placing a note behind your back with the words Spank Me, Mama, written on it is the best way to actually, you know, get it.”

He blushed and he blushed so hard that it made you think huh, he’s kinda cute, but you buried the thought right away. You had promised yourself to focus better that year. Falling head over heels for a fellow student on the first day of your new term was not the right way to do it.

“Right, thanks.” He struggled with the note, reaching behind his back as if his skin was on fire. You were about to help when he finally snatched the paper and read the words under his breath, eyes widening in shock.

“I assume that’s not your handwriting?” You were amused but tried your best not to tease him so much.

He did this pout that actually kind of fit his face, probably because he still had that baby face going on. Most of the guys you knew would look immensely disgusting if they pulled that kind of pout. Take your brother, Johnny, for example. Even the thought of him doing that already made you feel like punching your fist against a wall.

“I would weep myself to sleep if my handwriting was this bad,” he grumbled and you smiled secretly to yourself. He turned to you, an awkward grin painting his face. “Sorry, my friends are assholes. Do you happen to know a swamp nearby where I can dump dead bodies without being found out?”

You nod. “I know a place but it’s no longer free, though. They charge you, like, ten thousand won per body. Which is why I’m broke.”

His timid grin grew into a bright smile, probably feeling quite elated that somebody shared the same type of dumb humor as him. “I’m Lee Donghyuck.” He sneaked a hand under a table and you took it for a handshake, answering him with your name. “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Most welcome. You can save me back later when I have the words spank me, daddy, glued to my back.”

“So your friends are assholes too?”

“It’s what people have in common these days, I suppose.”

But when your professor spoke louder to make sure he didn’t any other noise in the room except his own, you had to cut your conversation short and only threw small grins at him every now and then.

When the class ended, you both parted ways with nothing more than a small wave of a hand and a casual, “Well, I guess, I’ll see you later.” You thought it would be too weird to get even friendlier than that, and he probably did too. You admitted that he was cute, but not cute enough for you to ditch your next class and make out with him in the nearest parking lot. You thought you were going to see him again soon anyway, probably the next week when the same class started.

And you were right, but you wished you weren’t because Donghyuck came back to your class the following week looking like a full-course meal.

Donghyuck probably had his hair cut short somewhere on the weekend and it looked absolutely fucking perfect on his head. His bangs were no longer hiding his eyes, and it was clear to you then that Donghyuck with his forehead seen, combined with those thick beautiful eyebrows and mesmerizing round eyes, were really something to behold.

He didn’t notice you were already in the class when he walked in, with his bag slinging on one shoulder. Some rowdy boys were shouting at the back of the room, “Haechan-ah, over here! Saved you a seat!” And Donghyuck grinned at them, waving his hand before he walked toward their seats and you thought Lee Donghyuck is Haechan?! That Haechan?! And mentally slapped yourself on the face when the flashback hit you. You had the chance to talk to one of the most popular boys in school and you talked about swamp and dead bodies.

Absolutely fucking perfect.

After you managed to collect yourself, you couldn’t hold back this urge to sneak a few glances to the back of the class, trying to catch a glimpse of that beautiful forehead of his—which you realized by then that you had some kind of a kink for it—without having him notice you.

But he did. He did notice every time you tried to secretly stare and he reciprocated each time with a smile, raising one of his eyebrows almost dangerously seductive at you and you thought goddamn if that wasn’t the sexiest thing I’ve seen in my twenty years of living I don’t know what is.

You offered your best effort to stay fucking calm despite everything that had been going on in your head, waving one hand at him with a small—hopefully not creepy—smile on your face. You immediately turned around right after, swallowing your breath, and tried not to vomit because your stomach felt like it was about to lurch out of your mouth. It wasn’t really an unpleasant feeling; it was just kind of new to you and you loathed the way your heart was slamming against your ribcages.

Okay, you mentally calmed yourself, get a hold of yourself. No need to panic. He’s just another cute boy, with a cute haircut, and a cute smirk, and a cute forehead and—

You really didn’t like where it was going.

When the class ended—and you didn’t learn a thing about it—you shoved your iPad back into your bag and let out the loudest sigh you had ever made in your sorry life.

“Bad day?”

Haechan’s voice was next to your ear and though you only jerked slightly on the outside, most of your soul had actually gone to heaven—or hell, from all those dirty thoughts you had about him during the last two hours of that lecture.

“Yeah,” you cooly replied. Thank God, your voice didn’t betray you. “My swamp is full again. I have to start looking for a new place.”

AM I SERIOUSLY TALKING ABOUT ANOTHER FUCKING SWAMP—

But Haechan was laughing about it, not too much but the amusement on his face was genuine. “It’s cute that you remember our previous conversation.”

“It’s cute that you do too.”

“Well, actually, that’s what I’ve been thinking about for the last week,” he told you with a smirk on his face. You dared to bet on your life that he was flirting with you and you were about to scream out of joy but you reminded yourself to play it cool.

“I don’t think it’s a conversation worth remembering,” you commented nonchalantly.

“Not if I had it with anyone else.”

You almost fell from your seat. “On second thought, it was a pretty interesting conversation, what with the—”

“Noona.” He suddenly leaned close, laying one hand on your desk to prop his weight. There was that smirk again—the one with his eyebrow raised. “I’m trying to flirt with you and ask you out on a date, if you haven’t noticed.”

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears at that point. You had thought about it—about him asking you out—but your imagination did not do justice on how smooth and confident or how goddamn attractive he looked in real life. “Oh.”

“Oh.” He imitated, smirking a bit wider and you were dazed with how bright he shone. “So, can I take you out for lunch? Not anywhere close to swamps full of dead bodies, I swear.” Then after a small pause, he added, “Unless, that’s what you’re into.”

“Shut up,” you retorted, standing up and gathering all your belongings into your arms. “You’re paying.”

He laughed softly to himself, trailing after you with a cheeky grin on his face. “This swamp thing could be our thing, though.”

“Shut up.”

***

Haechan was not one to take it slow, you remember, which is way different from how Mark does things with you.

It wasn’t like Haechan was overly aggressive—as far as boys go, he was pretty normal about the whole dating and sex thing—but he really just head straight to the point whenever he had something in mind, whether it was by a sudden change of topic in your conversation, or acting it out directly with his body.

While Mark tends to plan things, Haechan just did everything out on a whim. You could be talking about science fiction movies at a cafe at one point, and ended up with having your clothes soaked with water by the next few hours because he suddenly felt like the day was too hot and jumping into the campus pool fully clothed was a good idea. You weren’t sure why you’d said yes to all of that when you just barely knew him but Haechan could be very persuasive. So dangerously so, that you would probably say yes to anything.

It was on your third date when he suddenly bent his head down and cut you in the middle of your sentence with a kiss. It was only a small peck, a quick pressing of his plump lips against yours, but it still managed to literally stop you from breathing for a good couple of seconds.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling away with his eyes still staring at your lips. “I was… distracted.”

You knew it was lust in his eyes and you were familiar with yourself enough to know that you usually preferred to have your first kiss after you knew the guy for a certain amount of time. But Haechan—the way he sometimes stared at your lips for a millisecond while you were talking, or hugged you for a few seconds too long before you parted ways—really made you feel special. Made you feel… wanted. And it had been a long time since someone made you feel that way.

So it really didn’t come too much of a surprise that when he dipped his head down to kiss you again, you responded with as much passion as he emitted. You didn’t care that both of you were still standing in the middle of your co-ed dorm’s hallway, though it was empty from how late it was. You had your fingers tangled in his hair as you tiptoed and leaned your entire weight to his body, making him inhale sharply and curl his fingers around the fabric of your dress.

“Again,” he breathed when you pulled away for a split second and immediately brought you back to him again. Haechan had one arm around your waist and another one holding your face, angling your head to the side so he could kiss you deeper.

Haechan was a good kisser—so frighteningly so that it made you feel conscious of how inexperienced you were compared to him. And with the way his hands were moving around your body, you could tell that things were going a bit too fast.

“Haechan—”

The hand that you laid on his chest to give you both some space, was brought over your head as he pressed your body against the door of your room. He kissed you harder, almost knocking your head against the wooden surface, and you could taste the flavor of the lollipop he had on his way back to your dorm. His scent was intoxicating in the best way possible, numbing your mind from thinking how this could probably end up in a bad decision.

“Haechan-ah, wait,” you gasped against his mouth, and when he did, pulling away from you for a few inches to catch his own breath, you noticed that even if you managed to stop him, you probably wouldn’t sound very convincing.

It was really fortunate that although Haechan was a man of passion, he still had the patience to make your consent his priority. “Too fast?” He asked, warm breath fanning against your lips and you really wanted to just close those few inches between you and be smothered with his kisses again.

So you did, and you could feel him smirking into the kiss. The way he slipped his tongue between your mouth made your knees buckle underneath your weight so you clutched onto him as if you were hanging to dear life. Haechan formed this low grunt at the back of his throat that made your skin tingle in delight, knowing that you had that kind of effect on him.

But really, something still didn’t feel right.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, noticing how you fidgeted uncomfortably under his touch. He looked like stopping at this point would be the last thing he wanted to do but he still gave you the space you needed.

You nodded your head slowly at his question. Haechan looked like he had to put his best effort to gain control of his body and move away from you, and you could totally relate at that point, actually. You weren’t really sure why did you even stop him before. It just felt like the right thing to do but at the same time, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

“Haechannie—"

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step away from you and releasing you from his hold. You were surprised by the fact that you almost fell down to the floor when he wasn’t holding you.

“No, don’t be—it was, umm,” You cleared your throat. The collar of your knitted sweater suddenly felt too tight. “It was good.”

“Good?” Haechan asked, smirking as he raised an eyebrow and you thought fuck there’s that look again and you cursed inwardly a few more times for feeling so whipped for his little, seductive eyebrow raise. “I thought that was more than good, Noona.”

“Probably for you,” you wanted to tease but you could hear your voice crack at the end.

“Oh, really?”

And he kissed you again because he never wanted to lose his game. He knew he already had you wrapped under his fingers; he just wanted to make you succumb to him. To have you say how amazing his touches really felt on your skin because he was just that kind of a guy.

And he was winning. Your reaction was exactly the way he wanted you to be, arching your back under his touch, pressing your chest against his, tongue darting out to taste the inside of his mouth better and longer.

“No, wait, timeout.” You pushed him away again and you noticed that his hair was a mess from the work of your fingers and weirdly enough, it only made him ten thousand times hotter.

“Noona, you’re torturing me.” He whined against your shoulder, playfully biting the skin over your clothes. “Do you want me to stop or not?”

Haechan had the habit of whining when things didn’t go his way. It was immature and it would probably look childishly annoying on someone else, but it only made him that much more adorable. Still annoying most of the time, but always adorable.

“I’m sorry.” You were torn between feeling bad or laughing about it because my God, look at that pout. “Maybe a five-minute break? I could make you some coffee. My roommate is away for the weekend.”

He sighed, the pout on his lips grew even more apparent. “You’re inviting me to your room? At this hour? After this?”

“I’m not going to have sex with you tonight, Lee Donghyuck, just to be clear.”

“Which is the more reason why you shouldn’t be inviting me over then!”

You laughed because his voice was becoming quite high-pitched. “Are you so incapable of using your brain instead of your dick?”

“Noonaaaaa~” He threw his head back in exasperation, which gave you the chance to ogle at the column of his throat. “Seriously, is torturing guys at the end of a date your sick hobby or something?”

“Look, if you stay over, we can still make-out.” You throw a smirk at him, unlocked your door and pushed it wide open. “And I make the most amazing coffee, trust me.”

“Fine,” he exhaled, walking into your room with a suppressed smile on his face. “And I’m only here for coffee, nothing more. Making-out with you is just a bonus.” And you found yourself giggling like a child as he cradled you into his arms and pushed you down to your bed because you both knew, it was the other way around.

***

About a month later, a similar situation happened again and there was no getting out of it.

It started with Haechan coming over to your room on a Sunday afternoon. Your roommate was staying over at her boyfriend’s place again for the weekend, so you had the room to yourself for the entire day. Haechan came unplanned and he’d brought his MacBook with him because, “I know myself well enough that I’d end up playing Overwatch instead of working on my assignment, so could you please be a responsible adult and force me to do my work even if I start crying at your feet?”

Haechan was always the dramatic one in your relationship but you nodded your head and let him in. You brought over some snacks and made him coffee like usual—which he always replied with, “Noona, I don’t want to sound like an ungrateful boyfriend but this coffee tastes like shi—” but was always finished with a pillow smacked to his face, a form of your courtesy.

You were working on your own papers too, sitting on the carpeted floor with your back pressed against the foot of your bed and a MacBook resting on your lap. Your textbooks were sprawled all over the place, and Haechan was lying down on your bed, head falling over the edge. He was looking at his phone, his thumb running up and down the screen.

“Noona?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m bored.”

“Aren’t you supposed to work on your assignment?”

“Finished it already.”

You threw a look over your shoulder, glancing to see him lounging on your bed as if it was his own. Haechan already had his MacBook closed, and was looking at you upside down with a completely bored look on his face. You knew he was smart, but you didn’t know he was that smart when he really put his mind to it.

“Well, that was fast,” you commented.

“No, you’re just doing it painfully slow.”

“Well, sorry for not being as smart as you,” you mumbled, even though you weren’t really annoyed about it. Haechan huffed and walked closer, sitting closely right behind you, and trapping you between his legs.

“You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, though,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. “What are you working on exactly?”

“I don’t even know, honestly,” you sighed, leaning against his chest, dropping your head on his shoulder. “You wanna order some take-out?”

“Can I eat you for dinner instead?”

“Was that a sex joke, Lee Donghyuck?”

“Could be, if you’re interested.” You could see him wiggling his eyebrows from his reflection on your standing mirror. Both of you looked adorable, if you could say so yourself, wearing a matching white shirt (though not on purpose) and enjoying each other’s warmth with Haechan’s arms wrapped protectively around your figure. You sighed as you admired the sight of Haechan’s features in the mirror.

“Have I told you how sexy you look with your hair pushed back like this?” You asked, reaching out to touch some of his strands and he followed your gaze, looking at his own reflection in the mirror.

“Huh.” He seemed surprised. “It’s the first time you said that actually. What else do you think is sexy about me?”

“Promise you won’t get cocky about it if I tell you?”

“Can’t. You know how I am.”

You sighed but you succumbed to his wish. He praised you from time to time, it was only fair for you to do the same. “The way you dance.”

“You saw me dance?”

“Hm-hmm.”

“When?”

“That time when we went to Jaemin’s party. You were dancing to Billy Jean.”

“You saw that?!” He was flustered, scarlet painting his cheeks and ears. “That was—I thought you were in the bathroom!”

“Well, I was going to but then I saw you and kinda had to stop and stare for a little. You dance more with your hips than with your hands, do you know that? It was kinda hot.”

And just like that, the flabbergasted look on his face was immediately replaced with that Godforsaken cocky smirk again. “Were you turned on back then because of me?”

“A little. Or maybe I just really had to pee.”

“You should’ve said something, you know.”

“And then what? Have sex with you in Jaemin’s room? No freaking way.”

“We could’ve used my car. My hips could do so much more than just dancing, you know.”

“You’re disgusting.” You elbowed him slightly on the stomach to stop him from giggling, before you focused back on your MacBook. “Now, shoo, my boy. Mommy’s gotta work.”

Haechan had his chin on one of your shoulders. “But Noona~”

“I’m studying.”

“I’m bored~” He whined like the baby that he was, nuzzling his nose against the crook of your neck and you flinched slightly when his breath tickled your skin. “Can we make-out? Please pretty pleaseeeee~”

“Give me half an hour to finish this real quick—”

“Noonaaaaaaa~”

“What?” You were trapped between laughing and acting annoyed about it. “I seriously need to study. Didn’t you tell me to be a responsible adult for today?”

“You could also be a responsible adult by making-out with me though.” He chuckled to himself. “We could do adult things if you—”

“No,” you firmly stated though your smile kept on appearing on your face. You pushed a palm against his cheek, playfully shoving him away. “Now, go away, Dongsookie, I really have to study.”

“Fine,” he exhaled loudly against your shoulder and you could practically feel his pout growing on his face. He didn’t let you go, though. He kind of just sat there behind you, still circling his arms around your waist as he lazily stared at the words you were typing on the keyboard. You had trouble concentrating with the way you could feel every time he took in a breath from how close his chest was pressed against your spine but eventually you got the hang of it.

You were already working on your third page when Haechan suddenly had his lips on the side of your neck, lazily suckling on the skin until you could no longer ignore him.

“Haechannie.”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m playing a game,” he murmured against your skin, licking at the soft skin before he nibbled at it with his teeth. “It’s called how fast can I distract my girlfriend from working over a stupid assignment instead of spending time with me.”

“But I am spending time with you, though.”

“You know what I mean.”

And you had to bite your lip because he had a certain kind of pressure on his words that made your skin tingle in anticipation. His lips were soft but scorching hot as he drew bruises on your skin and it felt so good and dangerous at the same time. It was like standing on a bridge made of glass, both exciting and terrifying.

“You know what I think is sexy about you?” He quietly asked, one hand running down your body, slipping under your shirt and hovering dangerously close to your bra. “The way you say my name when we kiss,” he continued, adding a soft moan when he latched his lips around your earlobe.

You shivered, feeling heat growing on your cheeks. “Haechannie—”

“Yes, like that,” he chuckled, his voice suddenly became deeper. “You’re so sexy, you’re driving me insane.”

You tried your best to ignore him, you really did. But the second he had his warm mouth against your lips, his fingers grabbing your face almost forcefully to turn towards him, you just lost it and you found yourself crawling into his lap, tangling your legs around his waist and moaning against his mouth as he was against yours.

“Noona,” he sighed when you kissed down his neck, as if your every touch was a gift that he craved more and more. He shuddered slightly when you had your hand under his shirt and as if you just pushed the wrong button, he suddenly picked you up by the waist, shoved your textbooks away with one swipe of the back of his hand, and laid you down on the carpeted floor in one swift motion.

“If you keep doing that,” he breathed out heavily, eyes glazed as he stared at your kiss swollen lips. “I won’t be able to stop, even if you beg me to.”

You weren’t sure what came over you but you found yourself hooking your fingers around his necklace and brought his face down, whispering, “Then don’t stop,” directly against his lips.

It was all rush and passion and Haechan was not wasting even a second away before he began to undress you, removing each clothing very easily and you secretly wondered just how many times had he done this before from how smooth he unclasped your bra with one flick of his finger.

He pulled his shirt over his head, his silver necklace hanging loosely around his neck. “Tell me if I’m being too fast,” he said, before he climbed on top of you, throwing the piece of clothing away without a care. Your heart jumped at the sight of him, knowing how this could lead to something more but couldn’t really stop him. Not with the way he had his hands reaching down from the valley of your breasts, down to your stomach, his fingers brushing above the hem of your jeans.

His kiss was always breathtaking, to say the least, but it was a bit different this time because it felt like he was losing control of himself. His kiss was almost forceful, his teeth roughly nibbling at your lower lip before he moved down your chin and found his place in the crook of your neck again. His hand was on your chest, cupping you fully with his palm and let out this sexy groan when he felt you gasping his name against his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re just doing that on purpose now, aren’t you?” He hissed, eyes clouded with lust. He peppered kisses down your chest, lips hovering above your nipple when he said, “You’re being cruel, Noona.” You were tugging at his dark locks when he placed it between his lips, sucking at the sensitive spot, and you tried to hold back your moan but failing every time.

Haechan was giggling to himself, his tongue flicking around the bud. “The way you’re reacting to me is so cute. I didn’t know you were this sensitive.” He ran his tongue across his lower lip, staring at you like he wanted to ravish every part of you, which he probably did. “You’re so goddamn cute.”

“Haechannie.”

“Yeah?”

“I won’t be needing that kind of commentary ever again in the future, thanks,” you uttered, trying your best to focus on his touch and not his words because Haechan could be annoyingly talkative sometimes.

He chuckled again, moving along to land a few kisses on your stomach. “If you’re that sensitive here, how sensitive will you be if I touch you right over…” He trailed a finger down from your belly button to the edge of your underwear. His eyes twinkled gleefully before he rubbed your clit over your underwear. “…here?”

You gave your best strength to stay sane but Haechan’s giggle over your reaction only tortured you even further. “Stop playing around,” you hissed under your breath, pretty sure that you were blushing from ear to ear.

“Playing?” Haechan grinned tauntingly, “I’m being pretty serious, though.” He spread your legs, kissing the inner part of your trembling thigh before he hovered dangerously close to the point you could feel his breath down there. You couldn’t help but gulp in anticipation and Haechan knew that. He knew how much you wanted him to take off your underwear and eat you out like it’s his last meal.

But of course, being the little fucking devil that he was, Haechan only threw you his usual smirk and said, “You know I’d do anything for you, right, Noona? You just gotta beg for it.”

“No way.”

“Otherwise, I wouldn’t know.” He faked a pout. “I’m younger than you, you know. I need you to teach me these things.”

You reciprocated by kicking him right on his abs because as desperate as you were, there was no way in hell you were going to grovel at his feet, begging for him to please you. “All right, all right, I’m sorry, geez!” Haechan said, laughing as he successfully dodged two of your first kicks. Soon after, he grabbed your moving legs, carefully placed them on his sides and ran his hands slowly from your legs to your thighs. He took a long glance at your body, sighing like it was some kind of beautiful torture for him to take. “You don’t even realize how hot you are, do you?” He leaned closer and grabbed you by your chin, locking both of your gazes together. “Do you even know how hard I am right now because of you?”

It was a rhetorical question, clearly, because you could definitely tell how hard and hot he was pressing against you, even if his jeans and your underwear were still on the way.

“God, just—” you gasped when he slipped a knee between your legs, pressing it against your core. “Just stop being a fucking tease and fuck me already, Donghyuck.”

And he grinned against your skin. “Fucking finally.” You heard him say under his breath, before he carried you in his arms and moved you to the bed. It felt somewhat scary, how fast he was being, because you had only experienced sex once and it was the painfully awkward kind of sex with your high school boyfriend and you didn’t really have the chance to practice it with anyone else while it seemed to you, at this point, was clearly not the case for him.

Haechan had his eyes on you, all half-lidded with lust and passion, as he unbuckled the belt of his jeans and you had to gulp at the sight. He didn’t really have six-pack abs like Jaehyun—considering your boyfriend was quite an athlete during his senior days—but his shoulders were broad, his chest was toned, his stomach was lean and his skin, as it glistened slightly with sweat, was just absolutely breathtaking.

“Enjoying the view?” He asked, and you knew how he’d always been cocky in his entire life, but he’d never been this cocky. “You’re practically drooling.”

“I am not,” you retorted but you lacked confidence. Haechan grabbed a condom from the pocket of his jeans before he climbed back into the bed with his jeans unbuttoned.

“Why do you already have a condom with you?”

“Because I came prepared.”

“I thought you said you wanted to study.”

“Among other things,” he grinned against your lips and shushed down your next protest. “I will be studying your body, if you give me the chance.”

“That was so lame.” But even your insult couldn’t mask how nervous you sounded, especially when Haechan was settling himself between your legs again, fingers hooking around your underwear.

“Final chance if you want me to stop, Noona,” he said though it felt like it was almost impossible for him to stop. “I’m serious. After this, I won’t stop even if you cry.”

You swallowed your breath, heart thrumming loud against your chest. “Just do whatever you want,” you answered, almost too quiet for even your ears to hear but Haechan’s eyes gleamed in anticipation.

“That’s my girl,” he said, grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs apart before he leaned in to taste your mouth again. “I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.”

You realized you were holding your breath when Haechan wrapped the condom around his length and he had his eyes on you before he pushed in, asking with an unexpected low voice of his, “Ready?”

But he did not wait for an answer and you found yourself hissing when he pushed in, slowly at first and suddenly all at once. You twisted your fingers against the bed sheet, biting your lower lip because it hurt trying to adjust to his size and Haechan was a little bit lost in his own thoughts, muttering, “Fuck, you’re so tight,” under his breath, slightly throwing his head back out of pleasure. “Noona, you’re so fucking tight. Do you know that?”

He leaned closer to you, chest pressing against your breasts as he mouthed against the skin of your shoulder and slowly began to move his hips. “You all right?” He asked, making eye contact after a while and you shakily nodded your head, though the pain was still there. “Then I’ll move faster.”

You almost hit your head against your headboard when he suddenly picked up the pace, thrusting into you hard and deep; it knocked the breath out of your lungs. “Haecha—” you could barely speak at that point, arms clutching tight to his back, nails raking against his spine.

“Fuck,” he uttered between heavy breaths as he sat on his knees, holding both of your legs in the air, almost splitting your body in half and pushed deeper. “How the fuck do you feel this good, I—” he ended his sentence short, kissing your ankle instead, his eyes never leaving yours. “I wanna keep you—you’re so pretty like this, Noona—so fucking pretty—”

Haechan was always good with his words but at that time, he was making incoherent noises at the back of his throat, jumping from one sentence to another as if he was thinking about several things at once and he was running out of time.

“Haechan, wait—s-slow down—” You placed a hand on his shoulder, tears forming in your eyes. “You’re moving too fast—It hurts—”

Haechan was unfocused, but the last two words that slipped from your mouth brought him back to reality. He stopped almost immediately, looking at you with eyes searching your face. “Does it hurt?” He asked and you nodded, your body shaking a little bit. His gaze softened, cupping your cheek in his hand before he slowly pulled out of you. “I’m sorry, come here.” He cradled you into his arms, sitting down on the bed and helped you climb into his lap. “Maybe if we do it this way,” he said, wiping a tear from your eye with his thumb, “You’ll feel better?”

You could feel him twitching below you, the tip of his cock pressing against your folds. Haechan stayed true to his promise, he wasn’t going to stop even if you cried and that’s fine because you didn’t want him to.

“Take your time,” Haechan said, smiling gently in a way that was so not him that it made you feel weird. You could tell that he was trying to keep himself calm and composed even when all he wanted to do was to fuck you senselessly.

He pushed inside again, but let you take control of the pace this time. You slid down slowly, wincing slightly at the friction but it no longer hurt as much. Haechan was staring at you the entire time, unconsciously licking his lower lip when you slowly began to bounce on his lap.

“Kiss me,” he demanded and you did, sharing his breath and his moans, and tangling your hands in his hair. When he felt your body relaxing against him, he grabbed you by the waist and suddenly thrust forward, making you gasp and clenched your legs together.

“Fuck,” he moaned under his breath, hissing at how perfect you felt around him. “Noona, you can be mad at me as much as you want after this but for now let me just—” he groaned, furrowing his eyebrows at the feeling of him sliding in and out of you. “Just let me fuck you the way I want.”

And you found yourself thrown back to the bed with him thrusting into you deep and raw, faster and much more forceful than before. His nails were sinking into your skin from how hard he was holding you by your hips, keeping you still as he rocked his hips forward as hard and as fast as he liked. Expletives were falling from his lips between his low grunts and breathy moans and you couldn’t help but sob a little at how strong he was going. It felt painfully amazing, and you knew your body wasn’t making any sense, and it surprised you when your orgasm hit you like a wave, just a few seconds before he reached his. You honestly never thought that something so painful could also bring this much pleasure and you wanted to be mad at him but you couldn’t even find the energy to keep yourself up.

You fell down to the bed with Haechan toppling on top of you almost immediately, chest heaving fast as he tried to bring back some air into his lungs.

“Holy fucking hell,” he said, breathing heavily at the juncture of your neck. “That was so good. This is probably the first time I—”

“Haechannie.”

“Oh right, shit!” He immediately jumped away, giving you some space and gently placed his palm on the side of your face, checking your condition. “Are you okay? Are you hurt somewhere? Noona, I’m so sor—Yah!“

You pinched him by the nose, glowering at him with the little strength you have left and you didn’t let go even if he was tapping frantically against the back of your hand, asking for time-outs before you broke his bones.

Well, he said you could be mad at him all you want. It was time for him to face your wrath and it was not going to be pretty.

***

It wasn’t long until your name became a famous topic to discuss around the hallway too and it felt weird yet exciting at the same time, because it was true. You were dating Lee Haechan. And no matter how many times you had to convince yourself that it wasn’t solely your imagination, it still felt unreal.

Because Haechan was shining like the sun, and you couldn’t really shine as bright.

It suddenly felt like high school all over again when you’d once dated the Prom King, Jung Jaehyun, where people always talked behind your back, making comments about your face, or your body, or your attitude and how every aspect of your life did not fit the legendary high school prince that was Jung Jaehyun. It had gotten so much into your head that you had to break up with him, and hating yourself for over a year on how weak you’d become.

Dating Haechan was similar but different in the way he treated you. Jaehyun was too kind, not really saying anything back to anyone who said awful things about you and instead, just told you to not pay any mind about it. Haechan was much braver in saying the things that came to mind, so whenever he heard people talking trash about you, he would come up to them with words laced with venom. It was kind of childish, the way he got worked up rather easily, and even more childish when he continued to pout and fume about it even after a whole day had passed.

“Seriously, I said I’m fine,” you once said to him, entering his Hyundai after he opened the door for you.

“Well, I’m pissed off,” he said, unconsciously closing the door a bit too hard, making you flinch slightly. He walked to the other side of the car, sinking to his seat behind the wheel and exhaled loudly.

“Haechannie.”

“What?” His tone was still a bit harsh, but you knew he didn’t mean to shout at you.

“Thank you for defending me,” you softly said, reaching out for his hand. “But at this point, you’re gonna be mad with literally everyone and anger does not look pretty on you.”

“But aren’t you pissed, though? They literally have no business whatsoever to—”

“I know.” You squeezed his hand. “Look if it gets worse, we can always plan out something. There’s this perfect swamp I know outside of town.”

And Haechan couldn’t help but smile. Maybe he was right, that swamp thing could really be your thing. “You and your stupid swamp,” he muttered, shaking his head in amusement as he grabbed your face for a kiss. “Can we have sex at your place today?”

You sighed. It was always like this when it came to him. “Sure, why not.”

Because certainly, you weren’t complaining.

***

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rachelbethhines · 4 years ago

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Tangled Salt Marathon - No Time Like the Past

While I wouldn’t call this the worst episode of the series, there are several others I dislike more, I would call this the most ill conceived story in the show.

All the other bad episodes have potential but are let down by poor presentation, boring predictability, or sloppy planning. This one however, is fundamentally flawed in it’s very basic premise and so ranks in the bottom of most fans lists. Even people who are far more forgiving of season three and than I am, and are hardcore New Dream stans, still dislike this episode. That’s how bad it is.

Summary: Rapunzel discovers Old Lady Crowley tossing out Cassandra's things. She is upset and demands that they be left alone. She then has Lance and Eugene help her save all of Cassandra's mementos and personal belongings, but she becomes saddened when Eugene reminds her that Cassandra turned her back on "her". Rapunzel takes a box of her things along with, unknowingly, a mysterious hourglass. As she examines it, she accidentally drops and smashes it and she and Pascal find themselves sent back into the past. They run into a teenage Eugene and Lance who keep calling Rapunzel "Sideburns". Rapunzel realizes that she and Pascal have inhabited the bodies of the Stabbington Brothers and decide to recruit the young thieves in getting the hourglass from the castle back.

Fun Fact! That Dummy is Rapunzel’s Doing

Minor nitpick here, but Cass had nothing to do with putting Eugene’s face on her sparring dummy. Rapunzel voluntarily did that back in Under Raps. Cas never requested it nor even expressed any joy over receiving said ‘gift’.

Basically the show is attributing one of Rapunzel’s mistakes/flaws to Cassandra in order to introduce a very nonsensical plot point later. So I need ya’ll to keep that in mind as we go along.

Lets Talk About the Episode’s Ordering

We don't have production codes for season three like we did for the previous two seasons. So we can’t know for sure what order everything was originally planned in, but I would argue that this episode should have came before Return of the King.

For starters this is a “bottle” episode; it takes place mostly in the past and the only present day characters who show up are Eugene, Raps, Lance, and Crowely. As such you could potentially slot this episode in anywhere before Cassandra’s Revenge. You can’t really do that with most of the other episodes so it could have been easily moved around when airing.

Therefore, I would argue that it should have been the first episode after Rapunzel’s Return for three key reasons.

It would have given Edmund time to travel to Corona and give Raps time to start up big building projects like fixing Old Corona. In fact she’s already approving building plans for the capitol city at the start of the episode. Which could even explain why she took so long getting to the castle repairs if she was taking care of the stuff that the Saporians messed up else where.

Rapunzel’s stance over wanting to keep Cassandra’s things makes more sense early on, both in universe and in a meta context. Raps would still have hope if Cass has only been gone for a month or two instead what would now be four or five months down the line. It also makes sense that Crowely wouldn’t wait around for that long. And from a meta standpoint, the audience would still be oblivious to what the heck Cass was up to and could theoretically side with Raps better; or at least empathize with her view point more, even while disagreeing with her.

Events in this episode better explains Eugene’s decisions in Return of the King and gives the audience more context for certain stuff.

So Why Is There a Random Magical Time Traveling Hourglass in the Storage Vault?

Slowly but surely the series has abandoned all pretense that there’s any logical world building in the show. Magical things just appear randomly now without any explanation whatsoever. Worse than that, things like the hourglass and map to the cursed tomb are treated as if they were always there, unlike the magical beings that they happened to run into in past seasons.

The problem with this is a lack of consistency. You can’t have sceptics like Eugene and Varian if magic is so common and wide spread that anyone can run into it at anytime. Not to mention it diminishes the specialness and importance of the sundrop and moonstone if powerful magical items can be so easily found and stirred, undermining important plot points and the tension surrounding them.

But most frustrating of all, is that this could have been easily fixed by just stating on screen at some point that magic attracts other magic. Meaning it’s only Rapunzel herself who routinely runs into these things and not just everybody and anybody.

None of This Stuff Holds Any Meaning

Show don’t tell!

At several points through out season three, both Raps and Cass morn over Cassandra’s left behind things. They tell us constantly that these objects hold significant meaning to them, but I, the viewer, have no damn clue as to why.

We were never shown on screen what was so special about these things other than the fact that it was junk Cass collected. There’s no story attacked to these assortment of objects nor any previous indication that Cassandra valued them beyond their usefulness. As such, any scenes involving her stuff fall emotionally flat.

Eugene is the One in the Right Here.

Eugene’s right.

Any well adjust and mature adult will tell you he’s right.

If someone doesn’t want a relationship with you, than that’s it. There is nothing you can do but to move on. It sucks, but its life. To ignore that is to ignore someone else’s boundaries and personal autonomy; while also devaluing yourself and you’re own needs.

In a competent show this would be a set up for Rapunzel to learn something about letting go and taking care of oneself emotionally.

But this isn’t a competent show.

But Lobster is for Poor Folk

Food history time!

Lobster, and shellfish in general, have been considered low class food for centuries. Especially around costal areas like Corona. It’s easy to attain, cheap, and not regulated like hunting was in much of Europe. In America, specifically, lobster was fed to prisoners and there’s historical accounts of riots being started over it.

Heck, less than forty years ago, no one lived on the coast but poor people. That’s why there’s historical communities of black people living on the southeastern islands in the US and why my father grew up in the swamps of Alabama during the 50s and 60s.

The gentrification of coastal property and seafood, like lobster, is a very recent phenomenon in human history, starting in the late 70s early 80s with the booming tourism industry and increasing globalization.

So while I understand that the joke here is meant to be reflective of our current understanding of lobster being a status symbol, in universe, it’s the equivalent of Eugene getting excited for chicken nuggets instead of his usual bowl of cereal because the story takes place before the 20th century.

This means that these kids are so poor that fucking mcdonald’s fast food would be considered a rare treat compared to the slop they usually eat. Yet again what is meant to be a lighthearted joke turns suddenly dark when you stop to think about it for all of two seconds all because the writers are so flippant about their world and characters.

This Wasn’t Planned Out, So the Timeline Doesn’t Add Up Anymore and Resources are Wasted

Remember the flashback in The Return of Strongbow?

Now I need you to remember that season three is two years later from season one and the movie. Eight years ago then, would be ten years ago now.

The Eugene and Lance in the bottom picture is suppose to be roughly the same age as the Eugene and Lance in the top picture; give or take a few months.

I know teenage boys can grow fast, but not that fast.

Eugene at 16 looks the same as he does at 26. All because the writers were too lazy to preplan things out ahead of time.

We should have seen the teen models with recasted voices back during that first flashback if they were going to tell this story later. Or the previous plot point should have been less than eight years ago.

In fact the first flashback no longer makes any sense being so many years ago given Eugene’s engagement and recent breakup with Stalyan, and the later reveal that he was working for the Baron during the original movie.

Sloppy planning like this not only makes for a confusing timeline but it also wastes limited resources. I like the new models, I like the actors cast for these younger roles, and I do like the concept of seeing more of Eugene’s past. But going through all of that trouble and money for what amounts to one throw away episode is mismanagement of the budget and work schedule.

Baby Varian Is the Episode’s Only Saving Grace

I know people are divided on the deign here. Some love it and some hate it, but that’s a personal taste thing. The actual scene itself is golden either way, because it’s such a funny eater egg. Fans on both sides made memes out of this for days. It’s legendary.

Personally I’m more in the ‘love it’ camp, though I can see the issues people have with the design. My main defense of it is more the fact that we got kid designs for the other OCs in the show and it’s only fair Varian got one as well. The fact that he’s in smaller versions of the S1 clothes doesn’t bother me anymore than when Lance ran around for two seasons in the same outfit, including when he was a kid.

So if I like it, then why am I talking about it a salt review?

Cause the most memorable part of an episode shouldn’t be a throw away gag!

People bring up baby Varian way more than they do about anything else in the episode, and no it’s not just because the character popular. It’s because most would like to forget what comes after this scene.

Where is Quirin, by the Way?

Why is your six year old son running around the big city unsupervised?

This wouldn’t get talk about as much it wasn’t for the fact that Quirin being neglectful in season one was a motivating factor in his conflict with Varian. A conflict that was suppose to be resolved back in Rapunzel’s Return but we the audience have yet to visually see any difference in behavior since then.

Quirin’s absence here in the past highlights his absence in the present day and reminds the audience aware that we’ve not been given a satisfying conclusion to one of the most important arcs in the series.

Lets Talk About Wasted Potential

Like I said, I like the idea of exploring Eugene’s past. But we should have gotten that back in season two when it was more relevant. Part of why this episode fails is because Eugene has reached the end of his original character development. He’s now on an identity crisis arc which has nothing to do with this episode.

But you know who still hasn’t finished developing? Rapunzel.

Rapunzel has lots to still learn and viewing her past through outside eyes could have turned this story into something really special. Especially with the ‘inhabiting another body’ plot point.

You have no end of options here,

Have Raps inhabit Cassandra’s body for a day and gain insight into what motivates her. It could have been either before or after they met, both offers up possibilities.

Have Raps inhabit Eugene’s body and experience what he had to deal with growing up and come to see his point of view. (This could have also worked with the Sabbingtons set up had the writers not been stupid.)

And my personal favorite, send her back to right after Queen for a Day and have her stuck in either Varian’s or Ruddiger’s bodies. Force her to see what she did to him and have her acknowledge she was wrong.

And those are just the most obvious choices, there’s other more out of left field things you can do that would still work with good writing. Like exploring Lady Caine’s past, inhabiting Arianna’s body and learning how to be a real queen, get dumped into actual young Gothel and lay out clues to the future Zhan Tiri plot, or possess one of the Brotherhood and experience the final days of the Dark Kingdom; the list just goes on and on and on.

But I Thought You Didn’t Put Kids in Jail Frederic?

Remember that Raps and Pascal are possessing the Stabbingtons who are still teenagers here. They can’t be much older than Varian.

This means that Varian isn’t some special case. Teens have received harsh and deadly punishments in the past for non-violent crimes like theft.

Also teens are called kids still by the majority of the cast. They’re aren’t considered adults with the same rights as someone in say their twenties, yet they can be punished the same as an adult would. Which is horrendous in any time period.

So in conclusion, Frederic is a fucking liar!

Tangled the Series can’t decide if it’s in the far past or a reflection of the modern day. As such it winds up supporting the worst of both worlds. Barbaric practices like hanging for minor crimes and prison slave labor are treated as the norm and never called out for the horrific things that they are; treated as a joke even, but we’re suppose to accept that this world also somehow views adolescence through the lens of late 20th century sensibilities even as it forces minors to go through such atrocities.

Like what are you trying to say show? What is your message on the transition of adolescence to adulthood regarding rights and responsibilities? And don’t tell me ‘it’s not that deep’ because this is suppose to be a coming of age show! That’s the entire premise of the series!

So How Old Are Stan and Pete Again?

I was always under the impression that Pete was a newbie guard, closer to Cass and Eugene’s age than say Cap or Frederic. That’s why he screws up so much because he’s inexperienced, why he seemed to be the closest thing to a equal colleague Cass had in the guard when she was also just starting out, and why I assumed those braided girls from the movie were his sisters.

I mean there was nothing on screen previously that would necessarily contradict this reveal, it just doesn’t feel right, that’s all. I guess he could be like 20 here and be 30 in the show. That would make him only a few years older than Eugene, but still doesn’t explain why he’s so useless a decade later.

I’m fine with Stan being here though. I always thought of him being the older of the two. In fact I headcannon Willow as his mysterious wife that he talked about back in Monty’s episode during season one. (She’s Stan and Pete’s beard, and they’re totally in a open poly relationship. That’s why they’re allowed to stay in the royal guard despite being so incompetent cause they’re technically Ferderic’s in-laws and Rapunzel’s uncles. Just no one ever talks about it cause it’s a minor sandal for a princess to marry lower class and Willow’s hardly ever there.)

And Why Does Xavier Have All Those Plot McGuffins?

I know we’ll never get an answer, but at this point Xavier’s exposition fairy powers border upon ridiculousness. It’s just lazy and a waste of character.

So How Does Time Travel Work In This?

There are three types of time travel stories in fiction.

First is the ‘Changeable Past, Changeable Future’. You see this in Back to the Future. What you do in the past will change the future, i.e. your present. You may or may not remember that you did it, but be warned you could change things too much and break stuff. Like erasing yourself from existence, or ruining your love life ect. The only way to fix it is to go back in time again and change stuff again. But beware of paradoxes or you may destroy the universe altogether.

The second is the ‘Alternate Timeline’, where changing things creates new realties and it’s a matter of finding the right reality again. The tv show Sliders is a great example of this. Each new timeline is a different dimension. What you do in one won’t effect your original point of origin, only that particular world. The challenge if often getting home again because the probable diverging timelines are infinite and the changes of getting back are a zillion to one.

Third is the ‘Closed Time Loop’. No matter what you do nothing will change. The future is inevitable and whatever you do in the past was always meant to happen anyways. Gargoyles handles this really well. You can also have ‘fix points’ where certain important things are set in stone but small things can be changed like in several Doctor Who episodes. Braking a fix point breaks the universe once again, while paradoxes are often the solution rather than the threat.

So which type of time travel is Tangled dealing with here?

Scenes like the conversation regarding Pete’s and Stan’s mustache or the ones involving Eugene working on his smolder suggest a closed time loop. Yet the ending to this episode reveals a changed future. Further still the grandfather paradox revolving around the hourglass would make you think an alternate timeline yet, we’ve no indication that anything else changed other then Eugene’s opinions on Cass, and Raps shows no concern about getting back to her original point in time indicating that it actually isn’t another dimension.... so what is it then?

You don’t have to have a tightly plotted time travel story to have an entertaining piece of media. Endgame is riddled with plot holes and contradicts itself constantly, but what it lacks in coherent plot it makes for with fun characters, emotional story beats, and good pacing that manages to balance the action with the drama while hiding the cracks just enough that you don’t lose immersion.

Tangled however fails at even this because it gets the character beats so fundamentally wrong. Like you may dislike where the characters ended up in Endgame, but can’t say that those developments didn’t match the characters’ previous storylines and logical trajectory. Tony finally becomes the selfless hero by committing the ultimate sacrifice, Steve learns self care as a mirror to Tony’s arc as they were always parallels to each other, Bruce learns to accept himself, Thor processes his grief and lets go of the role he was assigned at birth but never truly fit into, and Nat becomes the leader she was destined to be rather than the sidekick.

What happens to the characters in this episode however makes no sense.

This is Another Missed Opportunity to Explore Eugene’s Past

The other problem behind the episode is that we don’t actually learn anything new. If you’re going to promise a story focusing on Eugene’s past then I expect to actually glean some new insights.

We still don’t know why he’s working with Baron or how he fell in/fell out with him, what his relationship with Stalyan is like, how he became so cynical; not just the general basics, like the orphanage, but that point in his life where decided that survival meant giving up his morals and ethics; where did he first learn his better ethics that he originally suppressed (cause it sure as heck wasn’t Rapunzel), and when did he and Lance become separated?

This are questions that series decides to raise by making allusions to them and building conflicts off of them but never wants to explain the details of where they originated from. It’s super frustrating and wholly unnecessary. If you didn’t think the story of Eugene’s past worth telling then why did up repeatedly bring it up Chris?

Why Are You Surprised by This Rapunzel?

Rapunzel you know Eugene’s past. You know what he used to be like. You were literally there in the movie and saw him being an ass before this. You didn’t start to like him until he dropped his guard down in the flooded cave back when you both where about to die.

You fell in love with him when he showed you his real self and he fell in love with you when you proved that you were accepting of that. You earned each others’ trust. This here; angrily yelling at him and judging him, when you’re already hiding who you really are from him both literally and figuratively, is a breaking of that trust.

Who the fuck are you any more, Rapunzel?

Cause you’re not the same character from the movie. You’re not even the same character from season one. But whoever hell you are now, it’s not an improvement I can tell ya that.

So How Did The Hourglass Go From the Treasury to the Basement Storage, and How Would Raps Know It Was There At This Point and Time?

I’m guessing the implication here is that Crowley put Cass’s stuff in the vault, but like why the fuck would she do that? We’re not talking about a family attic here, but the royal safe. The most heavily guarded room in the castle with the kingdom’s most priceless treasures and antiques. Nothing Cass owned was that valuable.

Rapunzel Is Full of Shit

Oh let me count the numerous ways in which this whole lecture is stupid.

Rapunzel left Varian behind. Rapunzel left Varian behind multiple times, including that time he was thrown in jail. She was not a good friend, and no, this is not a case of her learning from her past because not once has she ever admitted that she was wrong to do that. So this scene just makes Raps look like a hypocrite.

Eugene does not need to relrean a lesson on being a better a person. He did that during the movie and has progressed beyond that point. This ‘lesson’ is a waste of time and a misuse of the characters.

This reframes Rapunzel as being in the right during her argument with older Eugene at the beginning of the episode, even though she’s not. In fact this is such a counterintuitive plot point that it boggles the mind. Who structures a narrative this way? Why so blatantly point out how the main character is wrong if not to have her learn something? Why frame the story to make the person who’s personal conflict isn’t even the episode’s focus, into the one who needs to learn something? Especially if that something is already a lesson that they’ve learned on screen beforehand.

And why, oh good heavens why, would you teach children such a toxic message? Like on the surface it sounds like something you’d hear in a children's show, but the context of it is justifying harmful behavior where you selfishly ignore other people’s wishes and boundaries just to satisfy you’re own personal desires.

And finally, Eugene and Lance do not work as a parallel to Raps and Cass. Cassandra is an adult who left of own free will. Lance is a teenager who was arrested due to Rapunzel’s own actions. Eugene isn’t the one who is responsible here, its Rapunzel. Who also left them both behind in her carelessness. Secondly, Eugene’s decisions are spurned by years of trauma and a healthy fear of dying, while Rapunzel’s is wrapped up in her own need to always be right and to keep her immature and fanciful outlook of the world intact. As harsh as it seems, what Eugene did was based off a predetermine agreement and presumably Lance would have acted the same way or been pressured to act the same way by Eugene. In short, Eugene’s cynical world view as a teen is not the source of his disagreement with Rapunzel but an adult perspective back by common sense and a respect of others choices. It makes no sense for present day Eugene to ‘learn’ anything from this misadventure that he didn’t already know and for Rapunzel to not learn anything that would actually tie the parallel together.

Locking Another Teen Inside a Jail Cell With Another Adult as a Joke, Does Not Erase the Inappropriateness of Varian’s Story

The episode tries to add another joke about Shorty sneaking into the prison without the guard knowing, but that still doesn’t excuse the fact someone had to have tossed Lance in there with him on purpose. Otherwise Lance wouldn’t have assumed Shorty was a fellow prisoner if he or the guard that locked him up saw Shorty sneak in before then.

Furthermore Lance’s nonchalant response suggests this is not an out of the ordinary occurrence. Nor do any of the other guard comment upon the irregularly of teens being jailed with an adult. Now add in the fact that the show fails to clarify that previous ‘cellmate’ line from Rapunzel’s Return and now gives us more confirmation that Varian was underfed and malnourished for a year with that gruel joke and you have a horrifying picture.

Shorty might be non-threating, but that doesn’t mean Andrew, a known attempted murderer and manipulator, is too. Nor any other adult who previously was housed with a teen before then. This is still very much not okay and no amount of ‘jokes’ will suddenly make it right.

Raps, Who is an Adult, Just Physically Threatened Two Teenaged Boys and It’s Played as a Joke....

How many times do I have to say it? Humor does not fix bad writing. I’m not laughing when a heroine at age 20, threatens a couple of kids for merely annoying her. Especially when said heroine has a history of abusing children; because let me repeat once again, neglect is abuse!

This is a Lie

No you wont.

Rapunzel never tells Eugene what happens on screen. I suspect that if she ever did, they would no longer be together, because what she wound up doing here was a violation of trust and boundaries in the worst possible way.

And This is Now a Time Paradox

A Grandfather Paradox to be specific. How can Rapunzel be here in the past to break the hourglass if the hourglass that sent her here is broken?

In a competent series this would be the point of a future conflict and not the actual resolution. It’s not a closed time loop because of the paradox and the changes we’ll see in the future.

So either she’s in an alternate timeline/dimension and just doesn’t gives a shit; leaving the real Eugene, Lance, Cass, ect. to go on without her; or she’s just broke the universe and everything is slowly unraveling around her; galaxies are dying as she whines about being dumped, people in the future are being eased from existence, and God is cursing her name for ruining his creation, all the while she carries on oblivious to the destruction in her wake, as usual.

That’s it. Those are you’re only two options now. Is everyone from here on a fake copy or is Rapunzel the damned destroyer of worlds? You decide.

So This Confirms That the Stabbingtons are Indeed “Family”

Another reason why I place this before Return of the King; it explains why Eugene considers the Stabbingtons ‘family’. Though if it was Rapunzel he actually bonded with and not the real Sideburns, then how much of his feelings are real and how much of them were fabricated by her? How much agency did this episode steal from him?

So What Exactly Did We All Change?

Well the dummy no longer has Eugene’s face, but Cass’s painting of the three of them still has him ripped out of the photo, soo... Keeping in mind that Raps painted the dummy anyways and considering that Moonandra tries to kill him later on; I’m going to guess that Cass’s feelings weren’t actually altered. If anything their relationship might actually be worse now, cause Cassandra keeps acting like she’s never had friends and Eugene has taken up Rapunzel’s blind devotion.

All that development in season one is just, poof, gone. Also it’s quite possible that the first movie as well has now it has been erased from existence as Eugene got his needed character development eight years too early. How the hell that’s suppose to work, I don’t know.

Outside of the that we get no confirmation how anybody else was effected, even though a more brainwashed Eugene running around would undoubtedly have caused a butterfly effect. Don’t expect that to be explored anytime soon.

Though, it would explain why he’s suddenly such a doormat in season three, if this was the second episode as theorized.

No! This is the Wrong Lesson!!!

Let me explain narrative promises.

Everyone, on some basic fundamental level, understands how stories work. We hear them recounted to us over and over again from the day we're born to the day we die. It’s integral to how we communicate as human beings. Everyone knows innately how to tell a story even if that person couldn’t tell you how stories or structured or what certain literary terms mean, but they do it every day just through speaking. And while most audiences can’t always pin point what upsets them about a story they can for sure notice when things are off and not satisfying to experience.

Now that doesn’t mean that everyone can write an awarding winning novel, that study of a craft isn’t important, nor that every amateurish critique thrown at any given media is valid. But it does mean that people have come to expect certain storytelling practices and can pick up on narrative cues. We’ve familiarized ourselves with the language of film, novels, comics, ect, into order to comprehend what’s going on.

Rules of writing are just following that established language so that the audience can keep up. You can break these rules, sure, but unless you know what you’re doing and have a good narrative reason to do so, then you can easily lose you’re audience. And if you’re making money off said audience that’s something you want to avoid.

A narrative promise is a cue; a set up that lets the audience know that ‘hey this is important, pay attention to this cause it’ll come back into play later’. Now that the audience has been alerted to the plot point they expect fulfillment of the promise. If you break that promise, either through poor set up, lack of follow through, or by breaking an established convention of writing for no other reason then because you just wanted to, your audience is going to walk away unsatisfied.

The argument at the beginning of the episode was a narrative promise. It was a cue that set up the interpersonal conflict of the main character. For add context, I know that this is a coming of age story. Convention would dictate that the protagonist would resolve this conflict by learning they were wrong.

That’s not what happened here.

Convention was subverted. It wasn’t the protagonist who grew and change, it was the person they were in conflict with who did. And it wasn’t subverted because of any greater narrative reason, or future pay off, or even as effort to be shallowly ‘clever’; it was subverted because the author just didn’t want to hold the main character accountable for anything. Because said character has now become his avatar for his wish fulfillment fantasy and having the main character admit fault would be to admit fault in ones own self. Rapunzel doesn’t feel like Rapunzel this season because she’s just Chris in a wig.

The episode broke a narrative promise to the audience; both within the episode and in the greater premise of the story, because of ego.

I don’t claim this episode is bad just because of personal taste nor because I find it morally repulsive (even though both those things are true), I call it bad because it exhibits bad writing. Plain and simple.

Way To Undermine The Entire Point of the Original Movie, Show

Speaking of breaking narrative promises....

TTS is suppose to be a squeal to the original movie. It’s even in the title of the show; both of them. In one fell swoop, the series has managed to sabotage it’s very reason for existing, as it erases Eugene’s motivation and the inciting incident that kick started the film.

Way to fucking go.

To further twist the knife, it diminishes the duel protagonist of said film in order to prop up a series original character, who isn't even present in the episode itself.

I don’t mind Cassandra’s existence. I don’t even mind her being the new deuteragonist and one of the main villains; even though she wouldn’t have been my first pick to fulfill those roles given her lack of set up. But I do fucking mind it if she upstages other characters and/or derails their character arcs in the process.

This is the Death of New Dream

I was still in denial when this episode first aired. I honestly believed that this and The Return of the King was build up to a third “betrayal” where Eugene finally became fed up with Rapunzel’s bullshit and joined forces with Zhan Tiri. I thought the end of the series would have Rapunzel apologize to everyone she did wrong, Varian, Cass, and Eugene, in order to break ZT’s hold on them, and that true love’s kiss would reunite the sundrop and the moonstone and that would just tie everything together into a neat little bow and give us a truly daring character study of a Disney hero.

Oh dear merciful heavens, was I ever wrong.

How did we go from season one’s challenging and mature storyline, complete with Disney’s first real anti-villian, to this?!

What the hell happened!?

Rapunzel not only disrespects Eugene’s opinions, violates his privacy and trust as she manipulates him as a teen, and then brainwashes him to think like her (even if accidentally), but doesn’t even have good grace to tell him. She instead has the audacity to look all happy and self congratulatory because she got want she wanted. She, and the show at large, doesn’t care what evil thing she does to get the desired outcome Rapunzel wants.

Rapunzel in this show is a spoiled brat. And the image of her and her now lobotomized boyfriend staring dead eyed at a picture of the creator’s previous waifu OC with plastic smiles on their faces, sums up this series perfectly.

Conclusion

This isn’t even the worst episode of the series guys. I don’t know if it would even make it onto a bottom five list. That’s how much crap I have to wade through when it comes to this show. This is however the most damaging episode to the franchise as a whole.

Not even the most hardcore of New Dream fans want to acknowledge the existence of that final scene, and Rapunzel stans won’t defend her beyond, ’well she didn’t mean too, it’s the writing that’s bad.’ Yeah, the writing is bad, that’s why the character can’t and shouldn’t be defended, not here and not in other badly written episodes where she also does bad things and never makes up for it.

Anyways I’m finally caught up to where I left off, before the move, though sadly I don't think I’ll get this series done by the end of the month like I had originally hoped. But if you would like to help out I have a ko-fi you can drop a tip into if ya want.

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #Eugene #anti-rapunzel #anti-tangled

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xpeachesncream · 4 years ago

Text

acquainted | three

summary: the biggest goal of a grad student is to get through school in one piece - no petty drama involved, no sweating over the little things. however, that plan almost always never follows through. sometimes, you can’t help but fall into the most unthinkable, unexpected traps and learn the hard way. like, exhibit a: being unable to resist your engaged, substitute teacher, kim seokjin.

pairing: (2nd bts member to be revealed later on) x reader x engaged!teacher!seokjin

genre: grad school au, student life au | fluff, angst, smut (to come)

words: 2.0k

warnings: hoe-ish thoughts / implied sexual content, cussing, mentions of death/car accident, your friends being extra like always

notes: flashback scene towards the last half of the chapter. start and end of flashback will be indicated!

tags: @laurynne5, @yiyi4657, @bluesharksandfish, @miinoongi @teamtardis-notdead (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

It was a cold morning, with the wind slowly picking up, bringing the clouds over from across the bay. You grabbed yourself a cup of coffee and sat on a table near the food cart on campus, finishing up your last items on your to-do list for work. You didn't wanna sit in the office for remainder of the day, and luckily, your job gave you that flexibility. You rubbed your hands together, hoping it could provide some relief to the cold taking over. You were too lazy to make your move at this point, and Mr. Kim's [or shall we say Jin since we aren't in a classroom right now] class wasn't too far away from where you were sitting. It'd be an easy, breezy walk.

Your brain felt foggy; even though you didn't have much left on your to-do list, you couldn't seem to focus and you knew why. Chance's death anniversary was coming up, and it was always something you dreaded. You wish you could skip the day and continue on with the week without having to revisit shit like this. Your friends are your biggest support systems, but they too, have their own lives to tend to. And as much as they tried to physically be there for you, sometimes it just didn't end up happening that way.

"Miss Y/N, are you doing alright?" You looked up to see Jin standing in front of you, a concerned expression plastered on his face while he held his cup of coffee.

"Oh yeah, sorry. Just spaced out trying to get things done for work."

"No need to apologize. I feel that, 100%." He chuckled. "Mind if I sit for a minute?" You shook your head and moved your things closer to you so he had some room for himself. "Glad to see you got home in one piece."

"Sure did." You smiled at him, tilting your head slightly to get a good look at his handsome ass face while he brings up his foot to rest on his knee. Honest question: is it ever too early for hoe thoughts to make an appearance?

Did I put on deodorant today?

"You work nearby?" He sipped on his coffee and glanced at you.

"Yeah, I work for a cloud-based software company as a project manager. Sometimes, I'll help chime in with graphic design projects too, if I'm not too swamped." He nodded.

"That's pretty amazing."

"What about you? I assume this isn't your only gig." He chuckled.

"You're right, it's not. I, uh-" He paused. "I'm a CFO for a tech company in the city." Your eyes widened. Handsome, and a fucking boss? You have got to be kidding me.

"W-wow. Holy shit." You quickly shook your head and shut your eyes in embarrassment. "Sorry, holy crap." You corrected your previous statement.

"Y/N, I don't care if you cuss." He laughed. "I'm a 30 year old man who still finds the need to slip it in between every other word when I'm not in class."

"Sorry, just— holy fuck. I wasn't really expecting that, but good on you!"

"What do I look like to you? Honest question."

"Oh, I mean. I just thought you worked in business or something like that. As someone important, but not that important. I-I mean—"You sighed and pursed your lips into a fine line. "You know what I mean, I hope."

"I think I do, don't worry." He smiled, feeling slightly amused with how cute you were acting.

"You must be really busy all the time."

"Mm, no actually. I do have quite a few meetings and deadlines to reach but other than that, it's not too bad." You rested your chin on the palm of your hand. "Are you from here?"

"I am, born and raised. Are you?" He shook his head and slightly pouted.

"I moved here a couple of years ago from Seattle when my fiancé Grace started to get serious about her cooking. She wanted to open her first restaurant here."

"Oh, that's neat. She's a chef?" Stupid question, but you weren't sure how else to keep the conversation going about his soon-to-be wifey.

"Yep. She's a wonder woman, for sure." He pauses to sip more of his coffee. "Do you have family members that live around here?"

"Yeah I do, my parents live about 30 minutes away from here. I go and visit them when I can. But sometimes, I get too occupied with work and school that I just long for time to myself. Being 25, you'd think I could handle more but I'm still learning how to balance my time, I guess." He nods. He's a little relieved to hear you aren't that far off in age, to be honest. He wasn't sure if he was being weird harmlessly getting to know his students. He genuinely wanted to build relationships with them so they didn't think he was a professor they couldn't turn to. However, when it came to you, he couldn't help but feel slightly captivated. He was impressed with the way you carried yourself, down to how you'd participate in class and how you didn't come off like a student who hated every fucking professor they came across in their academic career. He appreciated the tiny details. "Not gonna lie though, I do get a little homesick whenever I don't get to visit for awhile, even though they don't live far. Truly makes me appreciate having my friends around."

"Ryujin, Taehyung and Jimin? No siblings?" He asks. Impressive. He paid attention. Although, it's definitely not hard to figure out when you four were constantly [for the most part] stuck at the hip.

"Yup, those punks. I'm the only child so they've become family to me." You smiled hearing your friends' names. They honestly meant the world to you, and you weren't sure where you'd be without them.

"That's sweet. It's good to have people like that on your side of the court."

There was silence for a moment, with Jin looking at you over the rim of his cup, while you tried your hardest to keep yourself together. You felt the heat radiating throughout your body the longer you kept your gaze on him, the tension slightly building. You were a little relieved he didn't bounce the question back about your love life or anything regarding the matter. You almost feel guilty that you're digging pretty deeply into this situation yet again, but you felt comfortable with the way the conversation was going and the energy he was exuding.

"I, um--" You pause as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He keeps the same gaze on you, almost like he's trying to figure out what you'll say next by reading you and your body language. "I hope--"

"Y/N!" You hear Taehyung's deep ass voice yell for you from behind. "Oh fuck, sorry dude. Am I interrupting something?" To be quite frank, you were happy Taehyung interrupted when he did because you were just about to tell Jin how good he looked, respectfully, of course. You were going to keep it PG and comment on the tie he was wearing and how the pattern complimented him and the rest of his outfit.

"No, not at all." Jin chuckles. "We were just wrapping up, I have to get going." He stands and smiles at the both of you. "See you both in class soon."

"Peace out, Mr. Kim." Taehyung throws up the peace sign like a dumbass as you both watch him take his exit and walk towards his classroom.

"Peace out, Mr. Kim? Really, Tae?"

"I mean, he seems cool enough for me to do that, don't you think?" You shake your head and continue finishing up your work on your work laptop. "What was that about? Are you in trouble already? What'd you do?"

"Why do you have like, so much fucking energy right now?"

"I downed two redbulls before I got here."

"You're an idiot."

"Me and Jimin were up all night hunting."

"I stand corrected— you both are idiots." Taehyung clicks his tongue before raising his eyebrow, manspreading and leaning back into the chair.

"So, what was that really about?"

"We just had a chat!"

"Sure. You both were definitely eye-fucking each other. It was weird to walk into."

"Not everyone is like you, trying to fuck everything they see." You rolled your eyes. "He had just sat here for a minute and we talked about work and where we were from."

"Okay." He snorts and shrugs.

"You're being so dramatic. It was harmless."

"Definitely looked otherwise."

"You weren't even here for the majority of our conversation?"

"Didn't have to be, sweetheart." He winked, playfully caressing your chin. "Your secret is safe with me."

"You are so full of shit. I don't know how I've dealt with you for so long."

"Who's so full of shit?" Ryujin comes strolling along, with a tired Jimin who was sipping on an iced americano. He wore a cap and sunglasses with sweats and a fitted crewneck, looking like he just rolled the fuck out of bed.

"Taehyung, who else?" You both stood up to start slowly walking towards Mr. Kim's classroom. "Are you okay, Chim?" You asked, genuinely worried about him, but also trying to change the subject.

"Tired. Just tired." He shakes his head, lowering his the brim of his cap even more. "This dumbass kept messing up our hunt last night."

"I didn't mess anything up, you just weren't clear on the directions." Jimin smacked him upside the head. "And Y/N's just mad I caught her and Mr. Kim on a date." Ryujin gasped, while Jimin choked on his iced americano and coughed trying to get himself together.

"Excuse me, come again?" Ryujin squeezes your arm, causing you to slightly wince in pain before you can shake her off.

"Tae, really?" You rolled your eyes. "It wasn't a date! He just sat with me for a minute and we talked for a little bit. That's literally it."

"You forgot the part where you both were eye-fucking each other when I came along."

"What the fuck is even going on right now?" Jimin finally chimed in, making you sigh deeply.

"We were not!" You pushed Tae. "You're such an instigator."

"First, helping you with your groceries, now this? I didn't think you had it in you, girl! Actually pursuing an engaged professor." Ryujin joked, making herself laugh out loud. Jimin is now walking alongside of you, while Taehyung throws his arms around both you and Ryujin, swinging his big ass head back and forth between the both of you.

"He helped you with groceries last night? What?" Jimin is honestly so confused and is unable to keep up with the chaotic conversation.

"Look, I just ran into him at Trader Joes and he offered to bring my groceries to my car since it was getting late. And today, we just ended up talking for a little bit. That's it. Can we drop this?"

"Mr. Kim has the hots for Y/N!" Ryujin teased.

"That's it. I'm going to find new friends." You shrugged. "Unbelievable." Did they not listen to one word you just said?

"You should go for it and have fun." Taehyung winked.

"No, no. She shouldn't go for him or do anything." Jimin states loud and clear, making sure he grabs both Ryujin and Taehyung's attention by waving his hand in the air.

"Ah, come on Chim, it's just a little fun."

"Ry." Jimin says sternly.

"Okay, kidding." She rolls her eyes.

"This is getting so out of hand." You say as you all approached the door to Mr. Kim's classroom.

"Hey Mr. Kim." Ryujin waved her hand playfully, followed by Jimin and Taehyung who simply nodded and gave him a toothless smile. He happily returns her greeting, then flashes a small smirk as you pass him while arranging the papers on the front desk.

"Hmph." Ryujin smirks. "Told you so." You roll your eyes.

Chance's death anniversary arrives quicker than you'd like, causing you to pick yourself up and force yourself to get on with the day whether you like it or not. After work, you quickly visited his grave at the cemetery, balling your eyes out as you spend quite awhile sitting in silence, staring at his photo on the tombstone. Every memory, every good and bad moment that you shared with Chance flashed right before your eyes.

It was irreplaceable.

[ start flashback ]

"So, who would you want next to you if the end of the world was coming?" You kept your gaze on the 'List of questions to ask your significant other' photo on your phone.

"What kind of morbid question is that?" Chance laughed as he continued to hug you tightly while you laid on his chest. "You, of course."

"Aw, thanks bebe. Same here."

"Are there any happy questions in there?" He scrolled down the list. "Like this one - what's the cutest thing your partner has ever done for you?"

"When we had dinner on a boat and you sang to me and everyone else having dinner." You laughed.

"Yeah, that was pretty cute wasn't it?"

"Shut up." You playfully covered his mouth. "Your turn."

"The cutest thing you've done? I don't know sweetheart, you've done a ton of cute things. I'd have to say you waking up next to me. It reminds me how real you are." You smiled and pecked him on the lips.

"I love you, chance."

"I love you too." He says almost at a whisper while caressing your chin. He was pulled out of the moment when his phone rang. "Ayo." He says. You watch as his facial expression changes. "For fuck's sake man, alright. Hang tight, I'll be there. Yo, don't be stupid and drive home drunk. I'm about to leave, okay? Your ass better be there by the time I get there." He sighed as he hung up the phone.

"What's wrong?"

"Josh is drunk as hell. I'm gonna go pick him up before he does something stupid."

"Can't he find a ride there?"

"Everybody left him. I can't just leave him there."

"I know, but--"

"It's gonna be fine, okay baby? I promise. I'll be back before you know it."

"Alright." You sighed. "Be safe, please."

"I will."

[ end flashback ]

When you finally arrived at school, you checked out your appearance to make sure you looked decent enough to get through class. You were hoping your psychology classes would go by quickly, just so you could get out of there and feel less suffocated.

"I'm sorry I can't come over." Ryujin pulls you into a tight hug and caresses your back. She had planned to spend time with you, but her sister called her last minute to ask if she could babysit her niece until late night. "But let me know if you need me, okay? I don't care if it's 1AM, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Same. I'll do what I can to get out of this family thing." Jimin gives your arm a gentle squeeze. Jimin's family was visiting from Korea on a whim, so he had been pulled into some family festivities for the evening.

"Look, you guys. I'll be fine, okay? Don't worry about me. You know I love you both no matter what, do what you need to do."

"I'll text you when I'm on my way?" Taehyung is the only one who is able to spend time with you tonight, after he helps his younger brother with a project. You simply nodded before you split ways with your group and headed for the library. You were going to stick around and do some work at the library until Taehyung was free because there was no way you were going to go home alone, feeling the way you were feeling. You weren't going to get anything done, and you weren't going to have the energy to pull yourself together.

Today was heavy.

The library wasn't any better for you because your thoughts seemed to be louder in such a huge, quiet space. You were looking at the clock time and time again, hoping Taehyung would text you, letting you know he'd be on his way with tons of dessert and wine. Just cause that's what you wanted, right at this moment.

You sighed and cracked your neck from side to side, getting yourself into Steph Curry "Lock in" mode so you can push through your assignments that needed to get done. But, it just didn't happen that way. You were becoming frustrated and restless, so you quickly packed up your things and shoved them into your bag before walking out. The campus was lit with street lights, with barely any students walking around. It felt a little eery, but the walk to the lot wasn't too bad being that the garage was well-lit, with security guards on every level. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket, causing you to try and reach for it even though you were hauling the rest of the books that didn't fit in your bag. Next thing you knew, you had your phone, but your books had fallen to the floor, the papers stuffed in them falling out and getting wet from the wet grass next to the concrete walkway.

"Fuck!" You groaned to yourself as you quickly glanced at Taehyung's 'be there in about 30 minutes or so' text and bent down to pick up your mess. You really had no reason to cry over this shit, but all of the pent up frustration and emotions you had been feeling today pushed you over the edge. You aggressively wiped your tears away as you stuffed your wet papers back into the books and stacked them on top of each other.

"Y/N?" You look up to see Jin, tears still falling from your eyes. "Are you alright?" He bends down to help you gather your books, towering over you as he gathers the majority of your things.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thank you." You slyly wiped your tears once more as you grabbed the books from him.

"Hey." He placed his hand out to prevent you from walking any further. You look up at him, watching as he dips his head down to examine your face, your eyes still wet and glossy from the tears. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Look, I'm fine and I don't wanna take time away--"

"You clearly aren't." His expression fills with worry. "And you aren't going to be taking time out of my evening." He finishes your statement for you. You sigh and close your eyes as your head dips lowly.

"It's just been a tough day, that's all."

"Let's talk about it." You look up at him as he nods for you to follow him to a bench near the parking garage. "Come on. I really won't forgive myself if I went home without trying to help." You silently follow him and place your things down before sitting. He sits next to you, with enough space placed between your position and his. "What's on your mind, Y/N?"

"Um." You pause and look at him. "On this day 3 years ago, I lost the love of my life to a car accident." You wiped your tears in between words. Jin's expression softened as he watched you break down in front of him, his heart breaking seeing you in pain like this. He wanted to do everything in his power to comfort you, hoping it would relieve some of the pain even though he knew it was something that would forever be embedded in you. But if he could provide any relief, then that would make him feel a little better.

[ start flashback ]

"It's been close to two hours, where the hell is he?" You said as you looked at your phone, sitting on the couch as you, Ryujin, Taehyung and Jimin watched a movie. Suddenly, breaking news flashed through the screen, cutting the movie to another commercial break earlier than expected.

"Breaking news - a white Lexus sports car and a Ford truck were involved in a head-on collision early this morning on Highway 101."

"O-oh my god." Ryujin says, as they look at the totaled cars. The Lexus was completely sandwiched at the median, while the truck was wrecked, but still stood in one piece off to the side.

"T-that's Chance's car." You said as you put your drink down on the coffee table to take a closer look at the car.

"Y/N, I'm sure Chance is fine and is on his way back." Taehyung chimed in from behind you.

"N-no." You stuttered, the feeling of despair in the pit of your stomach growing bigger by the minute. "N-no, I know his car."

"We might just be overthinking this." Jimin says, gently grabbing your wrist to pull you back down onto the couch, but you continued to stand.

"There was said to be one intoxicated passenger in the white Lexus, who is in critical condition and is being taken to the nearby trauma center. The driver of the truck was also intoxicated and injured, but is expected to survive. However, the driver of the white Lexus was pronounced dead at the scene." All of a sudden, you felt weak and dizzy because you just knew. You knew Chance wasn't okay, and you knew he wasn't on his way back to you. Soon after the news announcement, loud knocks came at the door. You looked back at your friends before making your way to the door, revealing two police officers standing before you. At this point, you felt like your entire life had been sucked out of you as you fell onto the floor, crying loudly while your friends tried their best to comfort you and speak to the officers for you. All you could remember hearing was the "i'm sorry's" from both police officers before everything turned into white noise. Everything felt numb.

[ end flashback ]

"I am so sorry, Y/N. I know my apologies are going to do much to ease the pain, but please know that I'm here for you whenever you need someone to talk to. I wanna do what I can to provide some relief." Is all Jin says as you continue to divulge about that night's details.

"You know," You looked up at the moon. "It's been 3 years, but it feels like it just happened yesterday. The pain always feels so fresh and it still feels so painful to think about it. It used to make me question why I was so deserving to continue living my life. I'm not an angel, I haven't been perfect. You know? Yet, someone who was so close to perfect, someone who was always so selfless and never hesitated to put others before himself was taken away from this world so easily? How did Josh survive, but Chance didn't? He was just going to help his friend out because he didn't want anything to happen to him, yet he ended up getting the short end of the stick. I was so mad." You shook your head. "I was so mad at Josh for awhile. I never understood and I still don't. I still don't fucking understand this." Your tears fell as you looked back at Jin.

"I can only imagine. There's things we'll never understand and quite frankly, it fucking sucks. But, I really don't want you to beat yourself up over this. I'm sure Chance wouldn't want you to, either. A lot of things happen for a reason, whether we like it or not, and it's hard to look at it in a different perspective. He's still with you, all the time. You're strong, and he knows this."

"I just don't know how I did this without him. It hurts so bad."

"I know, and it's okay to let yourself ride it out. Don't try and suppress the feelings just because you feel the need to act strong. If you don't let yourself process these feelings, it'll never get easier. It's okay to not be okay." He nods reassuringly. You smile at him toothlessly before sighing and getting yourself together. Although it had been quite the day, you felt a little relieved being able to talk to Jin about what's been going on. You felt a little more put together than you did earlier in the day and that's all that mattered. Baby steps.

"Is it okay if I give you a hug?" You asked shyly. You didn't know how else you could thank him for listening to you. You were sure he had tons of things on his plate, yet he still took time to sit with you out in the cold just to make sure you were okay. He chuckles and stands, his arms wide open, ready to envelope you. You wrap your arms around his torso, taking in his scent and breathing him in. He gently rubs your back before you pull away and smile up at him.

"I'll take a hug any day."

"I hope Grace won't be upset with you for coming home a little later than expected."

"She'll be fine. She's at the restaurant working late." His lips were pulled together in a fine line.

"Thank you again." You pull out your phone to check the time. 30 minutes from the last time Taehyung texted you was almost up, so you felt the need to get going sooner than later.

"It's not a problem." He puts his hand out, signaling for your phone. "Do me a favor and just let me when you get home, though? I'd feel better knowing you're safe and sound." You nod and hand him your phone. You knew you couldn't get wrapped up in whatever this was, no matter how flattered you were from the attention you were getting from him. He was still engaged, and he was still planning a life with Grace. The last thing you wanted to do was ruin that for someone genuine like Jin.

But God, was he making it difficult for you.

"I can do that."

"Thanks." He smiles toothlessly at you. "If you're ever in need of company or someone to talk to, don't hesitate to let me know. I'll be there in a heartbeat."

"Okay." You grabbed your things before walking away. Jin stood there, watching you walk deeper into the garage, feeling good about having been there at the right time. Something as simple as the hug you gave him had his thoughts running wild, just feeling your touch and your body against his. Albeit, it could be the lack of attention between him and Grace causing him to feel this way, but it was enticing all at the same time.

You were enticing.

And he could pick up on your little habits that made him want to know more. The way you'd look at him inside and outside of class. The way you always dressed so nicely when you had to take his class. The way you passed closely to the front desk, allowing him to take in your scent. The way you and your friends acted around him, knowing they were teasing you.

He knew, and he also knew what he was doing when he put his number in your phone.

He gets home and just as he mentions, Grace is still out at the restaurant working late. He kicks his shoes off to the side and heats up some leftovers to eat before retreating up to the master bedroom to call it a night early. As he's getting out of his clothes from today and heading into the shower, he notices his phone vibrating on the bathroom countertop, signaling a text.

[unknown number] 9:37pm: Hi, I'm safe and sound at home. :)

He smiles to himself before responding and heading into the shower.

[jin] 9:38pm: :) Goodnight Y/N, see you tomorrow.

124 notes · View notes

aoifeanamadan · 4 years ago

Text

After School Special

Fandom: Minecraft YouTube rpf (mcyt)

Word count: 4386

Relationship: DreamNotFound (DreamxGeorgeNotFound)

Summary:

The sky is blue, the sun is hot and Dream hates George.

Everyone knew Dream hated him, really hated him, all smug and sarcastic and closed off. Where Dream was friendly, loud and outgoing, George was quiet and pretentious. It was like he thought he was above everyone else.

Needless to say, neither of them were over the moon when they found out they had to spend two months working together in weekend detention.

Support this work on AO3 :)

Chapter Two: Montague versus Capulet

Change is hard. It’s a universal truth. But for Dream, change was foreign. It just didn’t happen. He did the same thing every day. Get up, sunrise, shower, breakfast, get in Sapnap’s truck. The days were all the same, they pushed into each other.

It was as if his life was made up of concrete blocks, one for every day. He was stacking them, and the more weight he added, the less space between the blocks. They were pressed so closely together, the weight of a lifetime keeping them tight, there was no room for opportunities to worm themselves in.

That wasn’t to say it was bad. He liked his life. It was fine. He had friends, hobbies, he did great in school. He was captain of the state champion soccer team. Girls liked him. It was all perfectly fine.

His new weekend arrangements threw a spanner into his routine. Instead of watching Netflix from his couch in his pyjamas, he was sitting at the breakfast table across from his dad. His father’s attempted conversation was a sorry replacement for Netflix’s D-List cartoons.

His dad was him lecturing about something, but it was as if Dream had cotton in his ears. His father’s throwaway words about consequence and responsibility were muted. He was saying something about the image Dream had to project as soccer captain when a ding came from Dream’s phone. It was Sapnap.

Sapnap

(9:37 am) hey im outside lets go

Once Dream read the text he was on his feet, toast in his mouth and jacket in his hand, rushing muffled goodbyes to his father. He heard the vague well wishes as he left.

Sapnap was a good friend, but one of his best traits was knowing when to be the enemy. The second Dream got in the car, he was complaining. About his dad, George, these stupid weekend classes. His lamenting was cut short. Before he could fully develop any of his woes, Sapnap was interrupting.

“Dream shut up,” he whined. It caught Dream off guard, stopping him in the middle of his first anti-George rant of the day. He looked at Sapnap, wounded. Sapnap just rolled his eyes. Dream gave up on the hurt puppy charade. He had only been on the first part of the speech, George’s entitlement. He didn’t even get to parts two, three or four (George’s pretentiousness, George’s fakeness and George’s sense of superiority, respectively). Each part was ten minutes long.

“Dude?” He didn’t like the distant hurt that he could hear in his voice. Sapnap softened.

“Sorry, it’s just like, this is your fault Dream.” This was not how Dream had expected the drive to hell to go. “You started the fight, and it’s not like George wants to do this either.” He knew Sapnap might have been right, but Dream soured at the thought of Sapnap and George’s friendship. Them discussing how Dream had ruined his weekend plans for the next two months, George trying to steal his best friend.

He pushed down the feeling of betrayal, it wasn’t fair to Sapnap. He could reserve that feeling exclusively for George.

“Yeah, maybe.” Dream hummed, noncommittal. He glanced out the window, the school was in sight. It was towering over him, looming and gothic. Dream was suddenly overcome, every part of him was saying don’t go in. He pushed the thoughts down and refocused on Sapnap.

“You might even enjoy it, George is really funny!” Dream could tell he was trying to spin this into a positive, but the thought of having to spend two hours a week with George for two months made him feel hopeless. He imagined it, the hours he’d have to listen to George try to boss him around, trying to make him feel stupid. George would try to one-up him every chance he got, that was just who he was. He could never just let Dream win.

Before Dream could reply, the car was parked. He looked at Sapnap, who didn’t seem quite as sombre as Dream did. To Dream, it felt like a solemn occasion. To Sapnap, it felt like dropping his friend off while he was on his way to do the weekly food shop.

“I don’t want to go in.”

Sapnap, ever sensitive, just laughed. He shoved Dream’s shoulders towards the door in a gentle but firm attempt to get him out of the car.

“Go on Dream, I have to get shit for dinner.”

Dream was walking and into the school before he had the chance to talk himself out of it. He wasn’t worried about the work. How hard could it be to recite some Shakespeare, or whatever it was they did in weekend English. He was worried about who he’d have to work with. He didn’t know anyone taking the class other than George.

When he entered the classroom, he was sure he was in the wrong room. At first, he thought there was no one in there. That was before he noticed the woman in the corner, facing the walls. Dream felt like he was interrupting something. He knocked on the door, which was already open. It was more of a polite way to say ‘Excuse me miss, you’re not possessed, right?’. She whipped around at the sound of Dream’s knuckled on the heavy wood. He was fairly sure she was not possessed.

As she stepped quickly towards him, he noticed her jumper. Plastered across the front there was the face of a multi-coloured pug. Her hair was wild around her, swamping her face, and her glasses made her eyes look like orbs too big for her face.

“Hello dear, sit down please, sit down. Welcome! You must be George?”

Dream rushed to correct her, rather than be mistaken for George of all people, but she had already moved on.

“I am Ms Dahlman, so so happy to have you here in English. What an opportunity! God, you’re so lucky. In my youth, we didn’t have these weekend class options. God, so lucky you all are. I am just so happy to have you here!” She was talking a mile a minute. Dream felt paralysed under her gaze, waiting for her to take a breath so he could interject.

She continued for four minutes, telling him how lucky he was to have this opportunity. He didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t his choice. He did however want to clear up that he was definitely not George.

Before he got his chance, there was another knock at the door. George’s voice came from the doorway, slow and soft. It was a stark contrast to Ms Dahlman.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find the room. I’ve never had weekend classes before.” George was standing, messy-haired and disinterested. Dream thought he looked arrogant. It was just like George to be late, he had no regard for other people’s time. Something shameful in Dream couldn’t wait to tell Sapnap, to prove he was ten times the friend George could be. But he wasn’t sure if good punctuality was quite enough to convince him.

“It’s fine, just come in.” Ms Dahlman sounded pained at the interruption, but she soldiered through. “You can sit down here next to George.”

George, the real George, quirked his eyebrow.

“That’s funny, my name is George too.” Dream wanted to wipe his smug smirk right off his face. Ms Dahlman however, seemed overjoyed with the development.

“Oh! Two George’s! Heavens above, who would’ve ever thought? I knew your name couldn’t be Dream, but that was all it said on the attendance form they gave me! I said to them, I said ‘Dream? Well that can’t be a real name, can it?’ but they told me it was the preferred name, so it was what I was to use. George is much more sensible.” Dream felt his cheeks burning, but he didn’t want to get aggressive. He tried to push the feelings down.

Looking at George, who seemed barely able to contain his laughter, made that a lot harder. Dream nodded at Ms Dahlman, to be polite, but she didn’t notice. She just continued speaking, something Dream was starting to note as a consistent course of action for her.

“As I was saying, the grade you get in this class will be added to your overall GPA for the subject. Normally, it’s used to bring up the average but obviously,” she gestured to the empty class “people just don’t care about English the way they used to.”

Only then did it strike Dream, him and George were the only two taking the class. Unless someone was running 8 minutes late for the first class, no one else was coming. Dream wanted to sink into his chair and never get up again.

Before he could figure out how to melt himself down, Ms Dahlman was explaining their first assignment.

“Now, for the first two months boys you will be writing a speech!” She paused, for dramatic effect. It didn’t work. Dream and George were looking at her with the same badly disguised disinterest. She continued, consistent as ever. “Now I heard about your, how to put this, communicational issues .” She grimaced at the mention of Dream and George’s earlier conflict. “So!” She punctuated herself with a short clap. “The speech will be titled ‘What my partner has taught me.’ It’s going to be a great opportunity for you two to learn how to cooperate!”

Dream did not want the opportunity to cooperate with George. He was stuck up, rude, inconsiderate. He acted as if he was better than everyone else, scoffing and looking down at them. Dream had plenty of friends, he didn’t want or need George.

Ms Dahlman, unsurprisingly, was not finished speaking. And so she continued, taking Dream out of his pessimistic thoughts.

“Now, I can see no reason to keep you here.” Dream and George looked at each other instinctually, then up at her smiling face, waiting for an explanation. “I’ll be giving you sheets that I’ll need to be signed by your parents to prove every week that you’re putting the time in together, as well as a guide to writing the speech. But, really boys, I can’t imagine why you would have to stay in the school.”

Ms Dahlman seemed to be about fifty, possibly older. Dream had no idea how she had navigated the world so far. It seemed she never even paused her monologues to breathe.

She gave the sheets to both Dream and George, and then she just left. She walked out the door and into her car without a glance back. The boys were left stunned in her wake.

Dream looked at George. George looked at Dream. Neither said anything, neither knew what to say.

Before Dream could start the inevitable conversation, George had taken out his phone. Self-obsessed as ever. Dream commented, emboldened by his evident social superiority,

“Well, that’s a bit rude-” Before he could finish, George had interrupted.

“Can you drive?” George hadn’t even spared him a glance. So rude . Dream couldn’t say he was surprised. Dream rolled his eyes. George didn’t seem to notice.

“No. What does that have to do with anything?” Dream didn’t try to stop the animosity from seeping into his voice. George didn’t seem to notice.

“Well I can’t drive either, I got the bus here. And we can’t just stay in here, it smells bad.” Dream didn’t want to admit it, but George was right. It did smell bad.

Dream started to speak. At the same time, George looked up from his phone. They both spoke at the same time, the same idea.

“I’m texting Sapnap.”

“Maybe Sapnap can-”

Dream laughed nervously. George didn’t laugh back. Sapnap was collecting them within ten minutes, a bag of shopping in the back.

Before long, they were sitting together on Sapnap’s couch, alone. Sapnap had left the room to make some food for them. Dream would’ve been happy to sit in silence until Sapnap came back with the snacks, but George wasn’t on the same wavelength.

“So, um, how are you?” George’s voice trailed off as he spoke. It felt like he wanted to be there even less than Dream.

“Good. Fine.” Dream was curt. He hadn’t expected George to make conversation, and he wasn’t going to try and encourage it. George could go back to texting on his phone forever for all Dream cared.

“Good.” George was returning his energy. His friendly conversationalist charade hadn’t lasted very long. Dream tried to settle back into the silence between them.

It didn’t stay like that for long. By the time Sapnap was back, he was entering to hear George yelling.

“Seven billion people in the world and I get stuck doing this with you! Either I’m cursed or God likes playing house.” He was standing on one side of the couch, Dream on the other. Anytime Dream moved, George moved the opposite way.

“Fuck you, George!”

Sapnap just wanted to get everyone some snacks.

He made them recount the argument, word for word, starting with George tapping his fingers ‘too loud’ on the arm of the couch.

Before long, Sapnap was telling them both off. He couldn’t say he was shocked that he had to explain that George telling Dream “I can say with utmost certainty, that you are definitely, A Bitch.” was not working cooperatively.

Dream was just as bad. But he did at least look remorseful while recounting his shout of “Every time you open your mouth I want to push you over the edge of a cliff and I mean that with all my heart.”

In the end, Sapnap made them sit in silence at opposite ends of the couch. Dream tried to feel guilty, he really did, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret squabbling with George, or chasing him around the couch. He was just so awful . Someone needed to knock him down a peg. And it’s not like he couldn’t take it, he was coming back just as hard as Dream. Maybe even harder.

Dream didn’t feel guilty for fighting with George, but he did feel guilty for getting Sapnap tangled up in the middle of it all. Dream could tell he hated the tension he and George had created.

Dream glanced towards George, checking to see if he looked as guilty as Dream felt, only to be met with George’s eyes staring at him. Weirdo. George nodded his head towards Sapnap, then between him and Dream. Dream didn’t want to admit it, but he understood.

George was saying ‘Look what we did.’ He was saying ‘Come on, we’ve to fix this.’

As much as it hurt him, Dream knew George was right. He looked up at him. George was mouthing something. Dream looked at his lips.

He was saying ‘Fuck you.’

Dream couldn’t hold in his laugh, isolated and muffled. Luckily, it was covered up by George’s exaggerated apology.

“Dream, I’m sorry for annoying you on purpose, and then for saying mean things to you.” Dream nearly had to physically restrain himself from jumping up and down, yelling ‘I told you so!’ He had known George was annoying him on purpose. Instead, he announced his apology as a reply.

“That’s okay George. I am sorry for chasing you around the couch and also for saying mean things to you.” He stopped himself from adding the ‘I am also sorry that you are a little bitch.’ He was too mature.

Instead of a relieved laugh, Sapnap’s brow furrowed. Dream could almost hear his mind moving at a mile a minute. George must have noticed it too. They both left it, but Sapnap wasn’t saying anything. And Dream had never considered patience his strongest virtue.

“Just say it Sapnap.” Dream and George were both looking at him expectantly.

“Huh?” Sapnap looked shocked that they had noticed his internal conflict.

“He’s right, whatever you’re thinking. Just say it. I can practically hear you thinking.” George agreed with Dream. It was a day full of firsts.

“Do you guys actually hate each other? Like, there’s no reason to. Or, do you just enjoy the feeling of having someone to hate? I don’t get it.”

Dream didn’t know what to say. They had never talked about it so openly, him and George. It was an unspoken truth, so obvious it didn’t need to be acknowledged.

Montague versus Capulet, Taylor versus Katie, Dream versus George.

George and Dream just stared at each other, frozen. Sapnap moved on before either of them answered.

“You know what, nevermind. It doesn’t even matter.”

The silence made Dream feel guilty, looking at Sapnap made him feel worse. He was holding himself with annoyance, rare but visible. Before Dream could try and apologise, George was changing the subject. If he was someone else, Dream would've been thankful. But he was not anyone else, so Dream thought it was rude.

“So, where is everyone? The house is empty.” George was right. Both of Sapnap’s parents were out, a rare occurrence. The house was quiet, and the noise was obviously missing. There was no smell of cooking, no top of the pops radio. Dream hardened at the thought of George realising there was something wrong in Sapnap’s house before he could. He wasn’t surprised, it was just like George to make sure he mentioned it before Dream got a chance.

Dream scoffed. George didn’t notice, and if he did he didn’t turn around.

“Oh,” Sapnap’s eyes widened, shocked at the observation. Dream made a mental note to pay more attention to how Sapnap was doing. “My dad, he’s- he’s out of town.” Sapnap didn’t say anything else about it. Instead, he did his best to help George and Dream.

They tried to work, they really did, but it was hard. The main task was to listen and learn from each other, but Dream would have rather died than learn anything from George, and the sentiment was clearly reciprocated. It had gotten to the point where neither of them were even saying anything, just looking at Sapnap waiting for instruction.

Sapnap, bless him, he tried his best. But one thing Dream and George could agree on was that it was easy to say no to Sapnap’s ideas.

“Why don’t you bond over your childhoods or something?” Sapnap threw out his fifth idea in ten minutes. Dream and George glanced to each other before replying.

“That’s dumb.”

“Ew, no Sapnap.”

Sapnap rolled his eyes

“Okay, fine. Whatever, you guys have fun.” He took his laptop from the coffee table and put in his headphones, ignoring Dream and George’s shouts of protest.

“No, Sapnap come on! Give us another idea!” Dream whined. Sapnap shook his head, trying to hide a smile.

“Sorry guys, but I do actually have my own work to do.”

Without Sapnap, things went off track quickly. George and Dream were sitting on opposite sides of Sapnap. George was cross-legged on the floor, messing with a piece of paper. Dream was draped across the armchair, head tilting back up to the ceiling. He was tossing up and down a soccer ball.

George and Dream were thinking out loud, having long abandoned brainstorming for their speeches. It was easy to ignore it when they had an infinite two months stretching out in front of them.

“Why did you fight so hard for it to be weekends?” Dream threw the question out into the air, hardly thinking about George’s reply.

“Well, I have shit to do after school.” Dream could not imagine a single thing that George might have to do after school. “Plus, I knew you have soccer training after school. I figured the team couldn’t function without their captain.” George said it sarcastically, but he couldn’t mask the truth in the statement. George knew when Dream had soccer, even if it was probably just because of Sapnap. And he had accommodated him when negotiating their punishment.

George had done something nice for Dream, without even telling him. He had just done it, quiet and personal.

Dream didn’t know how to digest this new information.

He was so preoccupied with the idea of George being in any way considerate, he didn’t notice him picking up a new sheet of paper, tearing off a corner and rolling it up into a ball. Before Dream could glance in his direction, the paper ball had hit him on the nose.

“Hey!” Dream’s head snapped towards George. He had the audacity to smile.

“Oops,” George deadpanned. Dream was whining for Sapnap within the second.

“It wasn’t an accident! It wasn’t and you know it! Sapnap, Sapnap! Tell him!” Sapnap just rolled his eyes. Dream glared at George.

“Try that again. Try it, I dare you.” Dream tried his best to sound tough. He was big, he was intimidating. He was the captain of the state champion soccer team. George couldn’t do shit to him.

George threw another piece of paper.

“Sapnap! He did that on purpose!” Dream whined. He didn’t realise how similar to an eight-year-old he sounded until the words had already left his mouth. Sapnap didn’t even look up from his laptop. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

Dream picked back up his soccer ball from his chest, a plan forming. Before he could even raise his hand, George was talking.

“Throw it, throw it and see what happens to you.” Dream gaped at George, he hadn’t even been looking at him. How did he know the soccer ball was coming? Just then, George did look. His eyes shot up from the paper crane he was making to meet Dream’s.

George’s eyes pierced him, frosty and chilling. Dream didn’t think he had ever looked into someone’s eyes the way he was doing just then. He felt like he could read George’s mind. It was saying ‘ Don’t you fucking dare’. Dream put back down the soccer ball slowly. The second George looked away, he threw it.

As the hours went by, George’s mask of indifference, his icy remarks and snarky comments, they faded away. A different George was filling his place. Still snarky, still acting as if he was just a little bit better than Dream, but different. He was excitable, quicker to smile.

George wasn’t as bad as Dream thought he was. Sure, he was a little bit rude. And he was definitely pretentious. He wasn’t as arrogant as Dream had thought he would be. And, even if it pained him to say it, he was funny.

All these things combined, he wasn’t the worst person to spend time with. No one noticed that the two mandatory hours had passed. They just stayed on Sapnap’s sitting room floor together, talking. George wasn’t a bad listener.

Dream was telling the story of his awful Monday morning, the first day of senior year. He was a good storyteller, he prided himself on that. Even Sapnap had taken off his headphones to listen. He had just gotten to the part of the story where he had to sit next to Weird Sarah. The smile George had been wearing was slipping slowly as he told him the woeful tail of having to sit next to her. George interrupted for the first time in hours.

“Hey, don’t be mean.” George was looking serious, an expression he hadn’t worn in hours. Dream didn’t understand why.

“Sarah’s actually a childhood friend. She’s really nice when you get to know her.”

Dream understood why. He felt like an idiot.

“Oh, shit, shit. Sorry, I didn’t realise. Shit. I’m sorry.” He tried his best to sound sincere, a stained sort of guilt overcoming him. George’s face didn’t change.

“No, it’s okay. It’s fine. I just forgot who you were for a second there.”

Dream felt like shit. Sarah hadn’t even done anything to him. But something in his mind was whispering to him. It wasn’t his fault if George was friends with her. Maybe they were both weird. This was classic George, trying to make him feel bad no matter what he did. Dream tried to push it away, but it was there. Lying underneath his brain, polluting his thoughts.

George, the George that Dream had come to know in that evening at Sapnap’s house, was suddenly gone. He stayed another half-hour, but it wasn’t the same. They focused on the work, writing about speech structures and other things Dream couldn’t have cared less about. And then George was gone, collected from the footpath outside Sapnap’s quiet house by his mother.

Dream and Sapnap were left alone in his sitting room. Dream wanted to sink into the floor and never get up again.

“Well That wasn’t, that wasn’t as bad as I expected.” Sapnap tried his best, but he didn’t even sound convincing to himself.

“It was bad.” Dream groaned, getting down to lie on the carpeted floor.

“Well, don’t undersell it. It wasn’t all bad.” Sapnap prodded him gently in the side with his foot. Dream squirmed.

“It was all bad.” Mixed with the embarrassment, there was a bitter kind of regret. Dream had ruined something good, something new. Before he could sink too far down his hole of sorrow, Sapnap was there.

“You should text him, to like apologise or something.” Sapnap had stood up to clean the sitting room, bring their plates into the kitchen. The conversation was over. Dream heaved himself off the floor, despite the weight of his self-pity.

“Yeah, okay. Okay. Yeah.”

It was later that night when Dream got the chance to text George. It was easier to send difficult texts from the safety of his blanket.

Dream

(10:14 pm) hey, its dream. Im sorry for talking shit about sarah.

(10:15 pm) It was mean and wasnt fair i feel really bad about it

Dream hadn’t realised just how much he actually wanted George’s forgiveness until he saw the three dots next to George’s name.

Gogy<3

(10:16 pm) its cool. dont do it again though it was a dick move

Dream

(10:16 pm) yeah i know :(

Gogy<3

(10:17 pm) also for future reference i never read texts. Message me on sc if you need me its georgenotfound

At 10:18 pm, George got a notification.

Dreamwastaken has added you as a friend.

#dreamnotfound #mcyt #mcyt fic #enemies to lovers #highschool au #dreamxgeorge #dream/george #sapnap #georgenotfound #dream smp #minecraft youtube #minecraft #enemies to friends to lovers #no beta but i used grammerly hehe

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fizzingwizard · 4 years ago

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;______; just heard that from September we’re gonna have three students in our cluster who are under 1 year old... (5 in the school total)

aaahhh im exhausted just thinking about it

and whats crazy is in one of the classes with under 1 yos there is a kid who is between 1-2 yo and she cannot walk yet. We have been trying to help her learn and have begun wondering if there is some reason beyond her mother just didn’t really encourage her to walk before. (Like maybe she needs leg braces etc.) So far no news on that but this kid only drags her feet around, obviously she needs constant help, and there are 12 other kids in the class, two of whom are under 1 and three teachers, HOW are they supposed to do it???

and the class that will have three under 1s has two first year teachers in it, that makes me so nervous... They’re both awesome coworkers, this is no shade on them, but under 1s can be TOUGH, it’s SO easy for them to get hurt. idk it feels like an accident waiting to happen.

i’ve been at schools where 5 students was an entire class, if we’re gonna have this many under 1s we should just have a class for them, come on! I love them but they are twice the work of kids on year older than them.

Also the recommended teacher-student ration for 1-3 yos is 1:6, which we abide by, but I believe it’s actually 1:3 or 1:4 when the kids are belong 18/12 mos. Apparently the head office does not care.

These kids are not in my class, I currently teach 2-3s, however I am a long care teacher and I look after them during morning and after care. I do their nap and their snack and play time supervision etc. From 10-2 they’re part of their class, but the rest of the day they belong to all of us.

More work ranting under the cut because I guess I just need to vent to the air.

And we have a LOT of students now - two clusters of going on 30 in each, in very small classrooms where the teachers are expected to watch them like a hawk AND keep constantly busy with numerous tasks at the same time.

Plus our prep time has been cut down this year despite additional work getting put on us, and we have no extra help.

If one teacher is out sick, no one gets prep time.

Don’t remember if I whined about this before, but a month or so ago we had a meeting in which the leader said “If you find you don’t have enough prep time, that’s on you to manage your time better.” It was super condescending and annoying. I’m like, dude, my contract says I get 1 hour prep and 1 hour break. We never ever EVER get the full two hours (and I should mention this is never consecutive, it’s 15 min here, 30 min there, 1 full hour if you’re really lucky). It’s usually at most 1 hr 45. But a 30 min break is fine! I’d love to take a 30 min break. Almost never do. Way too busy.

Like, I won’t get into it, but the laundry list of Stuff To Do recently has been ENORMOUS. In my class, I have 19 students. One of my co-teachers is part time, meaning she’s not around to help during much of prep time, and the other is a leader meaning she’s constantly in meetings or doing leader assignments. They are both fantastic co-workers, but yeah, this means I do ALL the class stuff. I prepare all the crafts, I do a ton of the organizing, and I’m often the only teacher from my class available in the afternoons because part-time teacher went home and leader teacher is in a meeting. So I end up with a lot of the after care stuff.

We have to hand out these big projects that teachers are responsible for preparing for each student on 8/16. We know these are coming and prep for them as soon as possible, but like, I won’t get into this either lol, but it’s so hard. It’s time-consuming by itself, and made worse because all the school computers are crap (like takes-15-min-to-start, another 10 to open the browser, 5 to go to the website, then it freezes, then 5 more, another freeze, etc) and like you have 15 min break time hahahahaha.

I wanted to get such a head start that I just started doing what I could back in the beginning of the year but we lit can’t do the bulk of the work until a certain kind of envelope is delivered and that doesn’t come till summer for some stupid reason. Soooo our long prep days in April when there are no kids around... can we use those to prep for this project? Heck no!

Anyway. This year’s is due on 8/16. This coming week we are off for obon break. This year also, the company is doing the project slightly differently. Instead of staggering what class gives out their projects to their students when, we all have to do it at once. We are our company’s biggest school, sooo my honest thought is no one at the head office thought about us when they made this change. The other schools don’t have to stagger anyway, they have at most two classes. We have four.

So this means everyone is printing their projects at the same time. For one student, you need 10 sheets on A3 paper. For my class of 19, that is 190 sheets of paper. For four classes, we’re over 700 sheets total. THAT IS A LOT OF PAPER.

So I get to work this morning and boss says “Yeah so we’re out of A3 paper.”

!!!

IT’S DUE MONDAY.

There was a little bit left so I just charged and printed as much of my stuff as I could in the morning before anyone else could. Then, miraculously, another packet of A3 paper appeared out of nowhere, and we were able to print most of the rest of our students’ projects. (My coworker who is a leader has not printed hers yet because she is super busy and isn’t finished. Again, she’s an awesome coworker, I wish I could have helped her more, but uh, I’m also swamped and not taking breaks, so. Hopefully she can do it before we really do run out of A3 paper.)

Getting more paper is no big deal, it’s just that no one has the time, and this is due Monday.

So I was super stressed. Sooooo super stressed for such a dumbbbb reason. And I don’t understand why these projects have to go out on Monday anyway. Some kids don’t even come to school on Mondays. Like. Just make sure they get them next week, isn’t that good enough?? Why make us stress and panic.

Everyone else seemed fine though, I was the only one tearing my hair out because I’m the type who finishes everything a day early so I have a day to check it over... I am not spontaneous and I hate to rush...

I lit told my coworkers, because regardless of the paper situation we are still behind because we have not had any time to organize the projects, that I will just stay late tomorrow to do it. It’s the Friday before a break so I don’t mind too much. I am really tired tho and would of course rather just go home and sleep but. I’ve done this before. Finishing up this project will take 1.5 hours - 2 hours at the current state it’s in, IF I can just sit down and do it uninterrupted. (Have I mentioned these projects are HEAVY?? And there’s 19 of them?? It’s a big job just to take them out and start putting them together >.<)

So tomorrow evening that is what I will likely be doing -.-;

There are INNUMERABLE other STUPID parts of this project - the idea behind it is great, but the way we are required to make it is absolutely bonkers and desperately needs a revamp but does anyone listen to a preschool teacher? heck no lol

uggh.

I feel better after venting tho.

I like my job, I just wish humans in general gave a shit, not even about quality of life (since obvs that’s expecting too much lol, also as a person with privilege I’m aware I’ve already got it pretty darn good), but just about not making jobs that are ridiculous. Just plan them out better, sheesh. There’s no reason for all this running around. The projects don’t need to be printed. Or they don’t need to be so huge. They don’t need all this fuss and nonsense. They are a good idea, but we could do them in a way that would be sooo much less stressful.

(The funniest part of all being, it’s a project for the parents mainly, and the parents... don’t like it x’D No they really don’t. They are happy to have the project, but first they’ve got to get it home, and it is HUGE and HEAVY and UNWIELDY lmao. And some of them are carrying twin 2 year olds and both of their futons home as well, and we’re like “here you go, two giant projects for you to take home!” And the parents are like “thanks????”)

#fizz's life #work

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bigfan-fanfic · 6 years ago

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Making Bad Look Good Part 2

A second part! Featuring... Two-Face, Deathstroke, Deadshot, Harley Quinn, Poison Ivy, Mr. Freeze, Mad Hatter, Hush, Zsasz, Klarion the Witch Boy, and the Court of Owls!

I got a ton of requests for these, and you’ve all been so helpful! This one’s for you!

Making Bad Look Good part 2 - a.k.a. another 6 Degrees of Evil Bacon

Warning: Long post ahead.

Two-Face - Harvey Dent

You met Two-Face back when he was District Attorney for Gotham.

He was no “Ce-SEAL-Your-Fate” Horton from Central City, but he was doing a bang-up job putting criminals behind bars, cracking their insanity pleas.

So you went to meet him after a case where he got the Penguin sentenced to Blackgate instead of Arkham.

Sure, he’ll probably escape, but the precedent the case sets is important.

“Mr. Wayne! To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Just came to meet our amazing new D.A.”

You make small talk, until you decide to ask him to lunch to congratulate him on the case.

He grins. “Okay. But we’ll flip a coin for the check. Heads, you pay. Tails, my treat.”

You shrug.

He flips a strange coin that he tells you is his lucky charm.

It comes up heads, on the side that looks like it’s been corroded.

You smirk. “That’s a double-headed coin, isn’t it?”

He laughs. “Yup. Most people don’t get it so quick.”

He shakes your hand and offers to pay anyway since you were such a good sport.

After he becomes Two-Face, it’s this moment you choose to remember...

Deathstroke and Deadshot - Slade Wilson and Floyd Lawton

There have been quite a few times when you were targeted by an assassin or two.

But that particular time, you were the prize for a competition between them.

Slade and Lawton had been hired to take you out, but only the actual killer would get the other half of the payment.

So one day, Deadshot is setting up the hit, angling a crazy shot to hit you through the back of the skull and bamboozle all ballistics tests. You come into range, and he shoots -

-only to see you get shoved out of the way by the eyepatch-ed Slade Wilson.

Bruce wants to sequester you in the Batcave, but instead, you tell him to set up a meeting as Batman.

It’s fun to throw money at problems.

On a rooftop, the Bat behind you, you offer Slade and Lawton double the total for your contract to give you the name of their employer and void the hit.

It’s technically against whatever assassin code there is, but you know, money tends to grease the wheels of any machine.

Deadshot takes the money and tells you it was some crackpot billionaire trying to get at Bruce. He also chuckles and says that he’s available if you ever have more money to throw and a grudge for him to carry out.

Deathstroke also takes the money and nods at you before leaving.

And while Slade comes back to torment you and your sons time and again, Floyd is actually quite pleasant. You sometimes hire him when you need security, which he calls easy money, and from that point, your husband almost never encounters him on the job...

Harley Quinn - Dr. Harleen Frances Quinzel

“Paging Dr. Quinzel. Dr. Quinzel, to the front desk.”

You and some other Gotham big shots were invited to Arkham for a publicity tour. Reporters are there, too, including Clark, so you feel pretty safe.

A surprisingly young woman comes to play tour guide, her hair in slight pigtails.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Quinzel. Currently I’m junior psychologist here at Arkham Asylum.” She has a bit of a New York accent, though you can tell she’s worked hard to soften it.

One reporter asks just how “junior” she is, and she gives an indulgent chuckle. “Yes, I graduated med school early, so I’m a bit young for a specialized doctor. But I’m also one of the only medical professionals still willing to work at Arkham, so I think that’s what counts, right?”

The tour goes well enough, until you raise your hand. “You’re the psychologist in charge of the Joker, right?”

Dr. Quinzel smiles in a strange way. “Yes, that I am.”

You frown. “And do you think, as a junior psychologist, you’re adequately prepared for him?”

“I know that I am a medical professional, Mr. Wayne, and I am certainly qualified to examine my patients.”

But Dr. Quinzel, just for a moment, looks fractured, torn. Like there’s some sort of internal war raging in her soul. But it gets absorbed in her too-wide smile.

You put it down to nerves about meeting the press, and let it go.

You always wonder if there was something you could’ve done for the woman, prevented it from all going wrong, prevented her from becoming Harley Quinn...

Poison Ivy - Dr. Pamela Isley

Pamela was going to college at about the same time you were.

You weren’t friends, exactly, although you did both share a class in Professor Crane’s Intro Psych course (an elective for both of you).

There were a lot of rumors about her. You chose not to engage in the gossip, especially as it was a lot about her sleeping with her Biology professor for a better grade.

You had to do a project with her for your final grade, and she invited you to her apartment to work on it together.

It was full of plants. She mentions it before you have a chance to even think about bringing them up.

“They’re my babies.” she jokes. “So much easier to take care of than pets.”

You smile. “All the oxygen probably helps you work better, right?”

She nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it does.”

She talks about how she’s going to be a botanist when she graduates, and she’s going to work for the EPA. She’s very self-interested, but genuine, and you have fun while working on the project.

But only a few weeks after you turn in the project, she disappears. Rumors abound about how she ran off with the Bio professor. Some say they were having an affair. Others are kinder and say they’re on a botanical conservation mission in some swamp somewhere.

Either way, you never see Pamela again.

At least, until Poison Ivy shows up in town...

(Side note: Drew Barrymore as Poison Ivy? Thoughts?)

Mr. Freeze - Dr. Victor Fries

Fries shows up one day out of nowhere

Just shooting with that cold gun.

He attacks a gala event for the Wayne Foundation and holds it up for jewelry and the cash being raised for the underprivileged of Gotham..

You glare at him. “You know you’re just taking money right out of the pocket of needy kids, right?”

“It’s for a good cause.” He says darkly.

“And what cause would that be?”

He sneers at you. “Disease research, mainly.”

The phrase surprises you.

Later, Bruce is doing research at the Batcave. “He goes by Mr. Freeze. Born: Victor Fries. Wife Nora suffers from Stage Four of a rare pneumonia-like condition known as MacGregor Syndrome. He had her cryogenically frozen, and now it seems like he’s turned to crime to fund his research into a cure.”

You hesitate. “Well... is there something we can do to help him?”

“Help him? May I remind you that he held hundreds of people hostage?”

“Well...” you shrug. “I just figure that maybe he wouldn’t be so... crime-y if his wife was being taken care of. I don’t know what I’d do if I was so close to losing you.”

Bruce softens slightly. “Look, Freeze committed a crime - several crimes, and he has to go to jail. But if it makes you feel better, we can have Wayne Enterprise’s medical division look into studying her disease. Judging from what I see here, MacGregor Syndrome has similarities with many other diseases. It might be a key in finding lots more cures.”

You smile and hug him. “Lead with that. Tell Fries that we’re willing to do that.”

Of course, Fries’ future crimes are due to the cost of maintaining his portable cryogenic suit, but you hear a lot less about it than you expect, especially since Nora is being taken care of...

Mad Hatter - Jervis Tetch

You were meeting a couple of old school friends at a tea parlor one day. It’s nice to escape the stress of your life and reminisce.

Roland and Alicia are a cute couple, and they tell you they have a baby on the way.

But the day is marred by a strange incident in which a small man in a top hat and tails (tuxedo tails) comes up to your table and starts babbling at Alicia, calling her “Alice” and trying to touch her blond hair, despite her attempts to shove him away..

Roland gets angry and punches the man, but before he can go any further, you pull him back.

The strange man glances at you. “The Dormouse...” he mutters, and walks away.

“What a creep.” Alicia shudders.

You’ve already figured it out. The man is deluded, thinking he’s the Mad Hatter, and he seems to be trying to fit everything into his Wonderland-inspired delusions. You tell Bruce about this, and he immediately agrees that Alicia is in danger.

You go to their hotel room to see them, warn them, but Roland answers the door wearing a bowler hat and Alicia is nowhere to be found.

Roland attacks you, knocking you out and kidnapping you.

Thankfully Bruce has been watching as Batman and follows.

You wake up tied to a chair around a tea table. Alicia is tied to another chair in an Alice-in-Wonderland costume, looking terrified.

Jervis Tetch reveals himself and points out his minions, enslaved with his mind control headwear.

“Very spiffy, if I do say so myself.” you say cheerily. “Quite the milliner you are, my good sir.” (Alicia looks at you like you’re crazy)

Jervis loves the flattery, and it distracts him long enough for Batman to smash through the glass ceiling and knock the hat off his head, disabling the control.

Sure, no one was hurt much, but needless to say you would have to visit Alicia and Roland in the future instead of ever having them come to Gotham...

Hush - Dr. Tommy Elliot

“We’re having lunch with an old friend of mine.” Bruce announces.

You raise an eyebrow. “Wait a minute. Why don’t I know who this is? We have pretty much all the same old friends. I mean, we were together, like, all the time.”

“You remember Tommy, right?”

“Tommy? No, Tommy doesn’t ring a bell, hon.”

Bruce sighs, and you laugh. This is as animated as you’ve seen him in a while. “Come on, Tommy Elliot! Back when we were little! We used to play Robin Hood together in the park, and you two always fought over who got to be the Sheriff of Nottingham?”

“Yeah, nope. No memory of that.”

He sighs, but you go with him anyway. It hits you when you see the man at the restaurant. He was that kid! His parents were friends with Bruce’s parents. They had almost died in an accident when Bruce’s dad saved them.

He’d always try to play this strategy game thing with you and Bruce. It was only two players, and while he’d always beat Bruce (your husband wasn’t always the tactician he was now), he’d get really frustrated playing against you.

Tommy liked to try and get inside your head to beat you, figure out what you were going to do and then planning for it.

But you could tell what he was doing, and kept doing random moves you wouldn’t normally play, throwing him off and winning.

You didn’t like him much, and you kinda got the feeling he didn’t like Bruce that much either.

“Oh. That Tommy.”

Bruce looks at your worried face. “What’s wrong? If you really don’t want to, we can cancel.”

“Oh, hush. We’re already here. Least we can do is have a nice lunch...”

Zsasz - Victor Zsasz

It’s never a good sign when a payphone rings. So many bad reasons...

Not the least of which is that barely anyone even uses payphones anymore.

Let alone to call another payphone. I mean, how does that even work?

So it startles you when you’re walking Gotham (during the day, of course), and a payphone rings. No one else is around to answer it.

You start to walk away, and then the next payphone rings when you reach it.

The other guy near it jumps like fifty feet in the air, but then goes to answer it.

He looks scared. “It’s... it’s for you.”

You sigh and take the phone

“Ignoring my calls? Naughty...”

“Um... wrong number. This is a payphone, not, uh, whoever you were calling.”

“This isn’t Y/N Wayne?”

“Yeah, no, it isn’t. May I ask who’s calling, though?”

“I know it’s you, Y/N. You don’t know me. Yet.”

“Look, I know Halloween’s coming up, but I’m not in the mood for Scream right now, okay?”

“This isn’t a scary movie, it’s real. My name is Zsasz.”

“Z- zsa... okay, how is that spelled?”

“Z. S. A. S. Z.”

“Oh, that’s beautiful. If you don’t mind me asking, is that Polish?”

“...What?”

“Sorry, I have to run, but it was nice talking to you!”

You run home and immediately tell Bruce you talked to Zsasz. Luckily you were running a trace with your phone - a little extra Tim developed for you. Within the hour, Batman has Zsasz in custody, saving the poor people he had kidnapped to add to his tally...

Klarion the Witch Boy

“Oh, hello! Who are you, little guy?”

The orange tabby glares at you with utter hate. It flicks its tail, but surprisingly, comes closer and curls around your legs.

It allows you to pick it up, and it purrs.

“Teekl! My word!” a boy comes running up to you, wearing a tailored suit and a newsboy cap.

The boy snatches the tabby from you and pets it, despite how it looks like it wants to go back to you. “What were you doing with Teekl?”

“That’s its name? He’s a cute little guy. Uh, he just wandered in front of me and basically asked me to pet him.”

The boy glares at the cat. “You TALKED to him?”

The cat looks at him and rolls its eyes.

“Um, who are you, kid?”

He looks at you incredulously. “Seriously, mortal? You haven’t heard of me? I am Klarion! Klarion the Witch Boy! And this is my familiar, Teekl.”

You nod seriously. “Good for you, kid.”

He seems about to throw a tantrum, so you wave and leave the boy dumbfounded...

The Court of Owls

“Beware the Court of Owls, that watches all the time,

Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime.

They watch you at your hearth, they watch you in your bed,

Speak not a whispered word of them

Or they’ll send the Talon for your head...”

“That’s a stupid poem. It doesn’t even keep time.”

“It’s free verse.”

“Yeah, free ‘cause no one would pay for it.”

You and Bruce were only kids when you heard the old rhyme. Bruce was trying to scare you as a Halloween season joke, but it wasn’t working.

“Come on, Y/N! At least pretend to play along!”

Thomas Wayne enters the living room, and pretends to scold Bruce. “Now, Bruce, be hospitable to your guest. What’s the argument about?”

You smirk. “Bruce says that there’s a Court of Owls who eat limes and put talons on people’s heads.”

Thomas hunches down, making a spooky face. “Well, Y/N, it’s an old Gotham story. It’s a very bad thing that Bruce told you. You’ll have to be very careful now.”

He looks dead serious, and now you’re scared. “Really? What should I do, Mr. Wayne?”

He puts a hand on your shoulder. “You’ll have to be a very good kid all your life, Y/N. Never go out after dark without your parents’ permission. Don’t ever cheat on a test. Don’t lie. And if you ever see someone in an Owl mask, look the other way and forget you saw it.”

He grins, dropping the facade. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I just couldn’t help it. Hope I didn’t scare you too badly.”

Being a stubborn child, you insist he didn’t. After all, you’re old enough not to be scared by that stuff anymore.

But on the way home, after your parents pick you up, you notice something.

A tall figure in an alley, wearing a stylized white Owl mask.

You quickly look away, trying to put it out of your head, mumbling the rhyme to yourself.

“Beware the Court of Owls...”

You forget about this until far later in life, after you, as Y/N Wayne, have become an enemy of the dreaded Court...

#batdad reader #male reader #batman x male reader #batman headcanons #dc headcanons #headcanon

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sign-from-god-complex · 6 years ago

Text

Summary: “Patton sucked in a deep breath. His hand that wasn't in Logan's hair clenched as all his other muscles tensed, teeth gritted and nails digging into his palm in an attempt to curb his emotions. Later on, Patton would be glad that Remy lived so far away from them because he was quite sure that if he had been nearby Patton would not have hesitated to take out all of his anger on him—and right now, Patton had quite a lot of anger.”

Or, Logan gets into an argument and Patton just needs him to know how much he’s loved.

(With ADHD Patton and autistic Logan, cause Projection).

Pairing: Queerplatonic logicality

Warnings: Discussion of a past argument, possible ableism, very minor self-harm as a result of emotional overload.

A/N: Thank you, hon!!! I hope this is alright!!! I haven’t written anything in over a week and it felt Bad, but here is something! It’s here! And I hope it’s good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Patton was sweeping around the kitchen—having entered the room about half an hour before in a plan to make cookies but having yet to actually start—when he heard the sound of the door clicking open. Immediately, he discarded the shopping list he'd mostly been thinking about writing and bounced his way over towards the front door, a smile planted firmly on his face.

The minute he saw his partner, however, Patton stopped dead in his tracks.

Logan was slumped down against the door, head in his head and shaking almost imperceptibly. He seemed to be fighting to keep himself together, trying to project an aura of some level of calm and control despite not even knowing Patton was there—he'd taken a day off and neglected to let Logan know.

Patton felt something inside him crack and he bit his lip, raising a hand to tap against his chest.

"Lo?" Logan snapped his head up, eyes red and watery and Patton tapped faster and bit harder. "Can I...? Am I... allowed...?"

Logan laughed but his smile was more like a grimace, his face contorted in pain from a series of emotions Patton was sure he wished he wasn't feeling. He blinked rapidly, sucking in his bottom lip to stop the way it was wobbling.

"Patton, quite frankly, if you don't hug me right now, I think I might fall apart."

Patton was beside him in an instant, arms pulling Logan's chest against his and wrapping him up as tight and as safe as possible. The idea of Logan so bluntly admitting his wants was jarring and more than a bit concerning.

Logan wasn't great at asking for things. Granted, he wasn't anywhere near as bad as Roman who seemed to deny the very idea of needing help, but he almost never requested anything that wasn't being explicitly offered.

If you didn't provide Logan a drink at your house, then Logan wouldn't drink at your house; if you didn't invite Logan to watch a movie with you, then Logan would remain in his room until the film was over; if you didn't ask Logan to come and cuddle with you then Logan would not touch you because he would assume that it was unwanted. Everything needed to be clear and explicitly stated.

So, the idea of Logan feeling the need to disregard all of that to request comfort was a lot for Patton to process.

After a moment, he could feel Logan exhale, his tense muscles slowly relaxing as tears leaked out against Patton's shirt—something he was sure Logan would apologise for later, even if it was only water and would quickly dry. The quiet around them was interspersed with hushed sounds from Patton and the occasional sniff, paired with the soft rustling of their clothes as Patton rocked them back and forth. He made no move to break the near-silence with any questions; he knew Logan would speak when he was ready.

It took a good seven minutes of maintaining their positions on the hardwood floors before Patton kindly suggested they relocate to the couch.

Logan's limbs were stiff as Patton pulled away to stand up, almost as if he were trying to resist the movement, but Patton quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him up to stand beside him. Patton's motion towards the couch was met with no resistance, Logan letting himself be dragged along as if he were a ragdoll, limbs limp and void of autonomy. He pulled Logan down almost on top of him and again Logan didn't move, just lying there and letting Patton thread his hands through his hair.

"It was an argument."

Patton paused his motions for a moment at the sound of Logan's voice blending into the space around them but quickly picked it back up, not wanting to make his partner worry about his reaction. Logan seemed to take Patton's silence as a cue to continue.

"Remy was... upset that I had corrected him in class and it escalated to the point where he... went off on me—is that the correct usage of that phrase?"

Patton just hummed noncommittally. Truthfully, he wasn't all that sure. Virgil was usually the one to help Logan with all of the current slang—Patton just got by on what he picked up from them and Roman—and he wasn't going to interrupt Logan just to ensure that he'd used a term correctly. He had a good enough idea of what he meant.

"He-" Logan sighed, deep and pained. "He made the claim that the only thing I have "going for me" is my intelligence and considering how atrocious my social skills are, I should be lucky to have any friends at all."

Patton sucked in a deep breath. His hand that wasn't in Logan's hair clenched as all his other muscles tensed, teeth gritted and nails digging into his palm in an attempt to curb his emotions. Later on, Patton would be glad that Remy lived so far away from them because he was quite sure that if he had been nearby Patton would not have hesitated to take out all of his anger on him—and right now, Patton had quite a lot of anger.

He leant down slightly, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of Logan's head. "Love, will you be alright if I just take a break? I just need 5 minutes and I'll be right back."

"That's fine," Logan replied and Patton couldn't hear anything in his tone to indicate otherwise, so he carefully extracted himself from underneath Logan so he could stand. "Are you alright?"

Patton took a breath. He knew that it was helpful for Logan if he identified his own emotions, even if sometimes it felt like an odd thing to do. "I'm angry. I have a lot of pent up energy and I'm not going to be a lot of help until I've gotten some of that out."

Logan nodded in response and Patton knew he understood—they'd both taken breaks on several different occasions, so it wasn't like this was uncommon. Hastily, Patton tugged off his hoodie and passed it over to his partner, hoping that it would be an acceptable replacement while he was gone, before running up to his room.

Patton could feel his rage bubbling up and over as his hands started to flap—harsh, angry gestures that made him screw his eyes up tight. He flung the door of his room open and closed it behind him with more of a slam than he had really anticipated, wincing at the sound and flapping harder for a moment to counteract it. He briefly worried that he may have startled Logan before the thought was cast aside in the wake of all his other emotions.

Resisting the urge to bite at his lip again or dig his nails into his skin he began to jump up and down—something that quickly turned into stomping, the carpet beneath him making satisfying thumping sounds at his feet hit against it. He let out one muffled, high pitched cry before relaxing, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out slow and feeing the tension in his body leak out.

There was definitely still some anger buzzing about inside him, but he was much more okay now than he had been.

He crept back down the stairs to see Logan laying out on the couch, swamped in Patton's hoodie and looking half asleep. Patton wasn't surprised he was so tired—emotions can certainly take a lot out of you and Logan wasn't used to feeling quite as strongly as Patton did. Logan perked up when he saw him, humming and allowing Patton to situate himself with his thighs underneath Logan's head—a good position for Patton to return to his previous stroking of Logan's hair.

A few moments of silence passed before Patton spoke up again. "For the sake of clarity, you want comfort and not rationalisation, yeah?"

"I believe so." Logan's voice was mumbled and tired and Patton tried to not tear up because he cared about him so much and he deserved so much and yet rarely seemed to get it.

Patton wanted to give everything to Logan—wanted him to be safe and comfortable and to feel happy all the time—but he knows the world doesn't work like that, so instead, he settled for trying to make a safe and comfortable place for Logan with him.

"Firstly, Remy was wrong, Lo—so unbelievably wrong. I adore you. And that isn't because you're smart or because I pity you or whatever you're theorising about in that big ol' brain of yours. It's because you're sweet and caring—you offer me the last bit of your Crofter's when I've had a bad day, you bring me my stim toys when you notice that I need one and you buy me cookies whenever you see them because you know how much I love them.

"I like you because you're considerate and kind. You take over for chores I don't feel capable of doing, you indulge me in my silly, half-thought out plans and point out why they're a terrible idea, then patch me up in the aftermath of what is always a terrible idea.

"And I like you because you get me, honey. You don't get upset when I have to leave the room cause things are overwhelming, because they're usually overwhelming for you too. You understand that my disorganisation isn't my own fault and you always try to help me when I have important things I need to do. You let me be me without having to worry about watering myself down for other people's consumption."

Logan at this point had turned his head, his mouth parted, gazing up at Patton with awe and Patton simply returned his look with a smile. Something in him wished that he could hold him but he didn't want to disrupt the comfort the two of them had already established.

"Your social skills are not atrocious, Logan," Patton finished, blinking away the moisture in his eyes, "They're just specialised for a different group of people."

Patton watched as Logan shut his eyes, taking a few deep breaths and making no moves to reply. Patton had removed his hands from Logan’s hair at some point during his speech, using them instead to pick at the fabric of his t-shirt. To remedy that, Patton tangled his fingers back into Logan's hair to resume but was stopped by an almost silent whine from his partner below him.

Patton pulled his hand away from Logan in case the touch was too overwhelming, "Lo? Are you alright?"

"I love you." The words were quiet and wet and Patton let out a breath when he heard them, his lips quirking up into a soft smile.

It wasn't something that was said aloud too often, mostly because neither of them commonly communicated their feelings with words. It was something that was said in gifted cookies and excitedly recounting the most recent chapter of new books, through shared Netflix recommendations and helping the other to bed when they fell asleep where they shouldn't. It was held in between the lines of every sentence they spoke to each other yet rarely acknowledged.

Though, all of that didn't mean that Patton didn't love to hear it.

"I love you too, my dear," he replied, soft and sweet, "Do you want to come up here with me and cuddle?"

Logan began to move almost instantly, shifting so he sat astride Patton's lap with his arms wrapped around his neck and in turn Patton gripped at the back of the hoodie his partner had borrowed, swirling patterns into the fluff and noting the way their breathing synced together. It was calm and it was wonderful, Patton's earlier anger having drained away a long time ago.

Later he would be angry again—confronting Remy for the way he behaved and listening to him apologise more times than he can count—but for now, Patton was content, holding his partner and them both being so sure that they were loved.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

General tag list: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @sandersships @mctaetae613 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @that-one-sunfish-with-a-wig-on @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @hhhhhhhhhhfjaskfsagfhasfgdsakfsa @autistic-virgil @stopitanxietymain @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 @idosanderssidespromptssometimes

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logicality #patton sanders #logan sanders #queerplatonic logicality #lo can write #1500 milestone

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skzsauce01 · 6 years ago

Text

Stolen

Description: After having his Soul Stone stolen by you, a witch, vampire!Jisung, can’t help but be intrigued by you. Unfortunately, your best friend is a werewolf and killer vampires have your school under attack.

Warning: blood, death, censored cursing, attempted rape

Word count: 8.5k

Pairing: Jisung x fem!reader, some Hyunjin x fem!reader

Special thanks to ad.gray who helped edit (and roast)!

He finds it even more ironic that you are a witch. He, a vampire, the rarest and most powerful species, had his Soul Stone stolen by a witch, the most common and “blah” species of them all.

Yet as fate would have it, there he is, leaning on the frame of the main door to the vampire dorm watching as you return his stone the very next morning with a lowered head and a bag of cookies as a peace tribute.

You had stolen it for class, you explained. Your teacher assigned an essay on how you would go about stealing something and recommended actually trying to do so for up to a 20% extra credit opportunity. Thus, you snuck into the vampire’s room last night. You were caught of course, but Jisung was overconfident. He held one of your wrist against your belly and the other in the air while teasing his teeth over your neck.

You knew he wouldn’t bite. For one, he hadn’t turned yet, and for another, vampires seem to hold a virtue of needing consent before biting.

His stone was in the shape of a ring and forgotten on his index finger. It took a bit, but you finally managed to slip it off without him noticing and jumped out his window, transforming into a cat before landing.

You ran to a silver store afterward, which is probably why Jisung hasn’t thrown you in a cell yet, but you couldn’t hide forever. So there you are, project completed and raising the ring back to its owner.

After hearing your explanation and apologies, Jisung slowly descends the front steps to meet you on the sidewalk, and you flinch with every step he takes. Finally, you feel a chill hand clasp on top of yours. You might as well have died right then and there from fear until you hear him laugh.

“It’s okay. Look up.”

You shakily do as he says and see an amused face.

“You’re Y/N, right? You have Professor Bang?”

“Y-yes,” you reply.

He closes your hand around the ring and steps back. “He’s also this dorm’s director. He knew you’d steal my Stone and gave me a fake one, see?” He pulls out a chain from around his neck to reveal the authentic stone hanging from it. “I didn’t think you could do it though, so I applaud you. Why return it though? If it were real, you could have had a vampire under your mercy.”

“Well, I--” you inwardly curse at your voice for shaking-- “It’s not mine, and it just seemed like the right thing to do, so here I am.”

He laughs again and snarls, which makes you jump and him let out another round of chuckles at your expense.

“Sorry, sorry. I won’t do that again. You’re really afraid of vampires, aren’t you?”

“N-no?”

He rolls his eyes, amused. “Why choose one to steal from when you’re this scared?”

“He offered me the most extra credit for it,” you admit in a low voice.

“Bang Chan,” Jisung mutters, “he did that on purpose to mess with me, didn’t he?”

“W-well then, that’s all I wanted to say!” you exclaiming, hoping to end the conversation. “Please excuse me!” You stuff the bag of handmade sweets in his hands and speed away in an awkward combination of both walking and running.

Jisung watches with interest as your back disappears into the shrubbery. When you are gone, he turns back into the house and takes out a cookie. Chocolate chip. He bites into it and the chip he broke bursts into a pool of blood in his mouth. His eyes widen, and he wolfs down the rest of the treat with impatience. He really does need to see you again, especially after finishing the bag.

It doesn’t take much to find a vampire on campus. To compensate them for not being able to see their own reflection, Nature has made them all incredibly attractive, which means a lot of fangirls squealing and loosening their neckties when one is around.

You inwardly sigh when you start hearing the familiar commotion from the door of the communal laboratory you are in. To make matters worse, the vampire is none other than the one you very much stole from.

He catches your eyes and smiles, making his way to the station in front of yours. You quickly look back at your tubes and try to look busy.

“Hey,” he greets regardless.

“Hi.”

He raises an eyebrow at your work, but leaves you to it and begins setting up his own work, an action you are most grateful for.

However, that doesn’t stop someone else from disturbing your peace.

“What are you working on?”

“Hyunjin! Why are you here?” you gasp at the werewolf’s sudden appearance by your side.

He looks at the instructions you are using and lets out a knowing “ahhh.” You were making perfume, a popular product females tend to use monthly to protect themselves from those with blood in their diets.

“Doesn’t the school provide you some? They’re like in every classroom in case someone get like a cut or something. Why do you keep making your own?”

“You said those smell bad.”

Jisung agrees that the body sprays the school provides smell like cheap rubbing alcohol, but the more pressing issue at the moment was why you are so familiar with a werewolf.

“Aww, you don’t have to work so hard for me,” Hyunjin purrs into you neck once he saw the vampire’s interest in your conversation.

“It’s not just for you, Hyunjin,” you say with a roll of your eyes. “If you don’t like it, I’m sure other predator species don’t either.”

Hyunjin doesn’t give up. “I know you love me. There’s no need to hide it!”

“Please stop. There’s other people around.”

“So you wanna go somewhere private?” he whispers just loud enough for only you and the male in front of you to hear.

Jisung crushes the test tube he was holding in his hands. Some of its contents splashes into another container of substances, causing pandemonium on his lab table.

You scramble to his side. Some students are screaming at the bursts of fire and foul odor the reaction produced.

“What were the reactants?” you ask Jisung.

“Nitrite and toad spit,” he answers, clearly shaken by the mess in front of him.

You run to the chemical closet for a bottle of mermaid pee from under the counter and pour it onto the table, successfully neutralizing the reaction. After the last drop of pee had fallen, you and Jisung are still staring at the mess, gasping in post-shock.

"You're amazing," he gasps.

Coming back to reality and realizing what creature stood next to you, you quickly shrink back to Hyunjin who puts you posessively behind him and stares at Jisung.

"Not really," you muster.

Once the real peril has passed, Jisung's fans are quick to his side with towels and cleaning supplies. You forgo your own project, knowing some girl will carelessly knock over something anyway, and let Hyunjin drag you out of the lab.

“Hey, Y/N.” Once outside, Hyunjin lets go of your hand but still sticks close by. “Be careful of Jisung. I think he has an agenda with you.”

“Just because werewolves and vampires don’t get along--”

“No, think about it. Have you ever seen a vampire in the school lab?” he cuts.

You shake your head.

“That’s because they’re filthy rich. They have their own lab in their dorm, so why else would he be there, right in front of you too, might I add?”

Back inside, Jisung looks for you in vain over the crowd. He doesn’t even have a project to work on; he had honestly just been trying to find the right window of time to ask for your cookie recipe and maybe get to know you a little better. Now, not only is he swamped by human flesh, he also found out you are in some sort of relationship with a werewolf. Sure, the feud between werewolves and vampires ended a century ago, but both communities still held lingering hatred. To make things worse, the way he was talking to you sure did not sit well with Jisung.

“Someone had sour blood,” comments Bang Chan as his junior slumps through the door.

“Hyung....” Jisung groans, flopping onto the couch next to him. “How’s Y/N like in class?”

Chan raises a brow. “Y/N? Why do you ask?”

“She’s so afraid of us. Doesn’t she freak out with you teaching?”

“Well as a teacher, the school has my Stone, so I can’t go around biting people. She’s actually pretty comfortable with me. One of my favorite students too. Why? Want me to play wingman?”

“What? No! That’s not what I meant!”

Chan giggles. “You’re blushing~”

“That’s impossible!” Jisung retorts. “I haven’t had blood since lunch!”

The younger begins to stomp up the stairs angrily until Chan speaks again. “You’ve probably found out why she steers clear of us, right? You’ve seen the wolf?”

Jisung stops mid-step, prompting him to say more.

“She’s probably heard a lot of warnings from him about us. They practically grew up together.”

“Are they together together?

“I don’t know that much. But do tell me, my lovely Jisung--” Chan smirks and rests his chin on the back of his wrist dramatically. “-- why the sudden interest in the witch?”

“You started it! Who the heck assigns thievery as an assignment anyway?” Jisung yells down and beelines to his room. However, Chan’s words linger in his head. Why indeed does he care? He recalls you wholeheartedly apologizing for your felony and how your eyes shifted with concentration while saving him from his potion disaster…

Jisung shakes his head. It’s those cookies. He just really wants more cookies.

Yet when he finds out Jeongin is paired with you on a project, he skips his classes for the afternoon to stay home.

You arrive at the vampires’ front porch-- the furthest you are willing to go into their territory-- to meet your partner. The male has already moved his supplies outside for the both of you, and the two of you work to mix a solution that best minimizes the effect of silver, an element that nullifies powers, out of the entire class.

“Hi freshmen,” Jisung teases softly while casually walking out of the house.

You bow politely and Jeongin mumbles something back.

“Lemonade?” he offers before peering over at your work. “Oh, I did this last year too. May I stay to watch?”

“I want apple juice,” Jeongin complains.

“Then get it yourself,” Jisung hisses into his ear and takes a seat on a swinging chair after setting a glass of refreshment by you and sipping on another himself.

You thank him, and Jeongin begrudgingly excuses himself to the kitchen.

“Y/N, I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Jisung starts.

Upon hearing your name, you bolt up straight and turn towards the sound.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he chuckles. “I just wanted to know how you make those cookies. They were really good.”

“Oh um, I just found a recipe from the library for chocolate chip cookies. Then I just froze blood and dipped it in chocolate for the chips,” you answer.

Jisung nods his head. “Do you know which book it was?”

“‘Neat Sweets,’ I believe. It is light green with brownies on the cover. I can make some more for you if you would like,” you offer apprehensively.

Jisung sits up with a smile. “Really? That’ll be great! Could you teach me how to do it too?”

More time with a vampire? Hyunjin would throw a fit.

“I’ll write out the recipe for you,” you suggest while returning a nervous smile.

The way Jisung deflates back into his chair makes guilt churn in your stomach. You turn back to your work to test the first batch of solution.

“I’m back,” your partner announces.

“Jeongin, do you think you can mix the second set? I finished the first one, so I’ll write down some observations.”

“Sure,” he agrees, “how was the first set?”

“Pretty good. It made a thin layer of foam form around the silver, which will lessen its contact with the flesh. This second experiment should be better though since we’ll use heat to give more reactants energy to form the product.”

“Okay. I finished measuring the reactants. I just heat it now, right?”

“Yes.” You look over to his E flask. “Wait, the silver is supposed to be added after he--”

The solution begins bubbling. Realizing what is to happen, you reach to turn off the fire, but it is too late. Shards of silver ram into the sides of the flask and explode from it. Jeongin is still processing your instructions and unable to react. You turn and tackle the boy to the floor while feeling sharp shards pierce your arms and back.

“Y/N? Y/N!” you hear as your eyes dim.

Jisung waits anxiously in his bat form by the window for you to wake up. Hyunjin was listed as your emergency contact, and the werewolf immediately kicked him and Jeongin out, especially after hearing how you wound up in the hospital in the first place. Hyunjin has yet to notice him, but when you blink awake however, the rodent begins to flap his wings a little too excitedly and ends up banging into the glass.

Hyunjin snaps his head toward the noise with a scowl and gets up to close the blinds, much to Jisung’s disappointment.

“Hyunjin?” you call wearily.

“I’m here. Right here,” he assures, rushing to your side.

“What was that noise?”

“Just a bird. It should be gone now.” He makes sure to raise his voice at the last part. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay. What did the nurse say?”

“The silver was thin and didn’t go in too deep, but your magic system should be affected for a week. Otherwise, they said you should be fine.”

“May I go home today?”

“You could have been discharged once you wake up, but I’m not letting you go back to your dorm. I signed you in for tonight. With me.”

“Hyunjin, the vampires weren’t intentionally hurting me. I’ll be--”

“No, you’re not fine!” he shouts. “And it doesn’t matter what they were doing. You walked into their territory, without telling me, might I add, and was injured. You can’t go to that one place, Y/N; that’s literally all I ask. I can’t see you there; I can’t protect you there.”

“I don’t need to be--”

“Oh really? Even if they do this?”

You feel his breath grazing your neck. You can tell he has turned by the fur on his skin, meaning sharp teeth are just millimeters from your skin. One paw pins down your shoulder, and the other is on the headboard behind you.

“Yes, even then,” you whisper. “I’m just a witch, Hyunjin. Don’t try to fight a vampire for me.”

He drops his head into your chest and gathers you into his arms. “No, don’t say that, Y/N. You don’t know how much that hurts me. You don’t know how much I worried when they told me vampires brought you to the hospital. You don’t know how much I wished I was there with you when that tube exploded…”

You rub behind his ears comfortingly while he shakes against your body. He completely lets his wolf form overtake him and you snuggle into his familiar fur with a purr.

You begin regretting your answer just two days after you said it when a ghoul has you pressed between a tree and his torso right on the outskirts of school. You had just gone grocery shopping, but now your milk is long forgotten by your feet.

You should have called Hyunjin to walk you since the sun was threatening to set. There are a lot of 'should haves' you should have done, but you didn't, so there you are, basically magic-less and obviously much physically weaker than the ghoul.

"Come on, don’t be difficult, sweetie. You know, I've been watching you for a while now, especially how your skirt swings when you pass my desk in the mornings."

"Please let me go," you plead.

"Don't say things like that now," he chides. "You know, the red light district is populated mostly by lowly species like you, witchy."

He starts by kissing you from the base of your neck to your chin while working on your necktie with his fingers. You focus on how much magic you can muster. It certainly isn’t enough to fight him off, but perhaps you can send a spark into the sky to signal Hyunjin. You gather all that you have in urgency-- the ghoul is already traveling down your chest-- and fire.

You watch in despair as your shot barely makes it past the shortest tree. You slump back, completely drained now, to accept your fate.

The ghoul cackles at your attempt. “What were you trying to do with that injury? I did my research before meeting you today, you know; I’m not trying to fight that wolf of yours. This is near the vampire dorm; there’s no way he is close enough to here to be able to see that.”

“He’s not the only one you should be looking out for if you mess with her though.”

The ghoul turns toward the voice and curses.

Within the second, Jisung is between the two of you. You can see him putting back up his human disguise as he faces you.

“Y/N, are you okay?”

You nod and shoot your hands up to your blouse to do the job of your buttons.

He gives a small smile and drapes his blazer over you. “Close your eyes for this, alright?”

You do as told and feel a wave of magic as Jisung drops his human cover again. You hear the ghoul beg for mercy and Jisung retorting something vile back. The two disappear for two minutes, probably with the vampire dragging your harasser to authorities. After the minutes, Jisung returns alone.

“Y/N, it’s alright now. You can open your eyes.”

Jisung stands a good distance from you. “You’re probably afraid of me too, so I can go if you want me to.”

“Wait!” you call and stumble to him to grab his shirt as he begins to turn away. “C-can you stay for a little bit? Just so I can regain myself?”

Jisung can’t help but let on a wide smile. “Of course. For as long as you need.”

He turns back towards you and buries your head in his chest while using his powers to radiate heat from there.

“Thank you,” you mumble.

You walk up to the vampire’s dorm again, this time with a bag that contains Jisung’s blazer and more cookies. Hyunjin trails behind you with his hands up to indicate no harm. You couldn’t explain why you had Jisung’s jacket around you when he found you later that night, so he made you promise to let him come along when you returned it to its owner. He’d behave, you hope. Even Hyunjin knows he doesn’t stand a chance against a whole dorm of vampires, no matter how strong he is.

You knock on the door knocker, feeling less intimidated now. However, all the feelings resurface when an unknown vampire swings the door open. His hair is slicked back and his eyes blood red. Fangs protruded from mouth in a snarl.

Hyunjin quickly moves you behind him. “We’re not here to fight; we just have something to return to Han Jisung.”

“Leave it on the steps and leave, Wolf.”

“Look here,” Hyunjin returns, “I’m trying to be cordial.”

“Changbin-hyung, leave them be. You’re scaring Y/N,” says another voice from inside. Jisung pushes past his friend to relieve you of your baggage. “Thanks Y/N. I’m sorry about that guy.” He then shifts his gaze to your companion and gives him a nod. If Hyunjin is your friend, Jisung supposes he should at least play nice.

“Alright then, we’re done here; let’s go, Y/N.” Hyunjin puts his arm around you and beings turning you around.

“I think Y/N can walk by herself,” Jisung calls after him.

Not too nice.

Hyujin throws a look over his shoulder at the other male, but you agree with Jisung.

You take the opportunity to turn back towards the house and bow at your waist. “Thank you for everything!”

Jisung feels a warmth creep up his features as he waves goodbye at you.

“Mind telling me why that fiend has any reason to thank you?” Changbin interrogates his junior.

“I helped her. Isn’t it natural to thank someone you helped?”

“You helped her? She hangs around a wolf and she’s a witch.”

“She’s not a fiend,” Jisung frowns.

“Did you forget the savagery werewolves inflicted on our kind?”

“That was a war; we both acted barbarically. Besides, there are integration reforms now; we’re supposed to be comrades under the name of this school.” Jisung can't believe he's defending a werewolf of all things. Usually, he stood with Changbin against Chan on these topics.

"And what have you to say about hanging out with a witch?"

"What do you have against a witch?"

"They're useless! Absolutely pathetic! You're a vampire, Jisung. You should find someone of higher caliber to interact with." He tugs on Jisung's ears which were reddening. "Let alone fancy," he whispers.

"I just ate! It happens!" Jisung protests. "Besides, your vampire elitism is ridiculous. She's Chan-hyung's top student. Over Jeongin, might I add."

"That's because he teaches classroom, not the important things."

"Worth isn't just measured on the battlefield."

Changbin just shakes his head. "Where is your pride, Jisung? We're known to graduate and serve in government or run corporations, and you're here trying to befriend a housemaid."

"Hyung! That's enough!"

You are standing outside the door, hand raised, ready to knock until you hear Changbin calling your kind useless and Jisung defending you. You had turned back because you had written out your cookie recipe out on paper but forgot to give it to Jisung. Perhaps it is better for you to just give it to Jeongin tomorrow now.

Hyunjin gives you a confused look when you turn back around without completing your mission. You return to his side and tell him not to worry about it as well as ask to go home. He transforms into his wolf form and carries you back for the price of a good petting session later.

You feel warm with your face buried into the fur of your best friend, but you suspect the warmth to also come from imagining Jisung’s pursed features as he stands up against his hyung for you.

Hyunjin turns his head to see you smiling peacefully on his back. He lets out a content hum and takes extra care to avoid the bumpy spots on the ground.

His yellow hair is slicked back. His eyes would be gleaming red if they aren’t closed. Heavy black shadows dusted eyelids. Worst of all, his mouth is around the side of your hand, sucking whatever he can.

Rather than receiving your recipe, Jisung had convinced you to show him how to do it. To be honest, you too want to know him better, so he didn’t have to try very hard. The day was going well-- he had rented out a communal kitchen, so Hyunjin can’t complain and Jisung wouldn’t be bombarded with fangirls-- until you tried to cut some butter that was a little too frozen.

The knife left droplets of red in its wake. Jisung has never smelled something so delicious before, and the very fact that the blood smells of you makes it all the more impossible for him to not drink.

And so, he drinks. He feels your warmth, breath, and life enter his system. His deadly fangs graze past your skin, ready to act should the cut cease to be enough.

“Jisung,” you try calling.

Your word falls onto deaf ears. The vampire just adjusts his grip on your hand which sends you into fight-or-flight. In panic, you reach for his Soul Stone that you know hangs around his neck.

“Jisung!” you try again once you feel the ring inside your palm.

His head shoots up, and his eyes widen once he realizes what he has been doing.

“Shoot, Y/N, I… Oh my goodness, Y/N I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Oh, why did I-- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-- Shoot, shoot, shoot. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I swear that won’t happen again.”

He bows and bows and bows while trying to read your expression every time he straightens back up. However, you display nothing but shock for him to see. You reach into your bag for a bottle of perfume and spray it. You feel it sting your wound before you bandage it up, an action that Jisung is quick to help you with, trying in anyway he can to make amends.

Jisung usually likes the smell of your perfume-- he’d search for it in the hallways in hopes of finding you-- but now it reminds him of why you have to use it in the first place: to ward off predators. To ward off him.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. Could you.... Could you say something?”

Your eyes snap up when prompted by the request. You take a step back and turn to hide your face in your hair, actions which tear Jisung apart, and take a sharp inhale. “Are you hungry?”

“I--I don’t know. Maybe. I have a snack in my bag, but you were just so-- I mean, I’m just so, so sorry, Y/N.”

You nod and put the butter in the microwave for a few seconds. Jisung doesn’t seem satisfied with your response.

“Would you feel better if I left?”

You turn towards him a little too slowly than he would like and shake your head. “It’s fine. You didn’t bite, and I know you didn’t mean it. I’m just… a little shocked and lightheaded.”

The microwave beeps and Jisung reaches for it from behind you, an action that makes you even more lightheaded. “Then let me help you. Just take a seat and tell me what to do, Y/N.”

You watch him scurry back and forths the kitchen with his brows furrowed, trying to make everything perfect. When he looks up at you with big doe eyes after stirring the batter, you can’t help but smile and feel your earlier shock ease away.

“Like this?” he asks with a quiver.

You let out a small laugh into your hand, much to the male’s surprise which, like everything else, is evident on his face.

“Not quite. Let me show you.”

You take the whisk and ignore his protests. After finishing the batter, the two of you roll bits of it into balls and spread them onto the cookie sheet. When the oven bell dings, the two of you excitedly throw on your mitts and take out two pans: one of blood cookies and another of regular chocolate chips. Jisung pops one into his mouth while it is still piping hot and you gently scold him for it. The earlier tension seems to be forgotten by the two of you.

Jisung looks fondly at you as you blow on your own cookie to cool it down. The one in his mouth doesn’t taste as good now after what he had eaten earlier. He knows he’ll never find anything as irresistible as your blood. He’s heard his hyungs have described the irresistibility and unique flavor of what he has just experienced before, and they all called it one thing: love.

Jisung went to bed happy that night. Bang Chan looked accomplished for some reason after seeing him return home with his head in the clouds. Changbin looked annoyed. Angry even. Well, Jisung decided, Changbin can suck it, and so can Hyunjin because he isn’t about to let you go.

He went to bed happy, but he couldn’t stay that way.

Around two in the morning, the school emergency alarm goes off. Jisung throws on his school blazer and steps groggily outside to see vampires and other creatures piling into the courtyard.

“We are under attack. This is not a drill. Students, report to your homeroom teachers for further assignment,” repeats the speakers over and over.

The announcement is enough to send Jisung’s adrenaline going. “Chan!” he calls. “Channie-hyung!”

He finds the older vampire and clings onto the cuff of his shirt. “Hyung, Y/N is in your class. Take care of her please. She’s really smart. Put her in intelligence.”

“Jisung, that’s not for me to decide. I can’t play favorites and give her a safe position on my own.”

“Hyung…”

Bang Chan bites his lip and grumbles.

“Please,” says a voice, but it isn’t Jisung’s.

The vampires both turn to see a werewolf who slowly lowers his torso toward his sworn enemies. “Please look after her.”

“Hyunjin,” Chan begins. “Hyunjin, you don’t have to do that.”

The wolf straightens up and looks at Jisung. “Come on. Professor Kim is waiting for us.”

Jisung nods and gives Chan one more bow before following Hyunjin. All the while, he looks through the crowd in hopes to find you. He’s later assigned to a combat unit with Changbin and Hyunjin. He questions the decision made by the faculty, but decides he has better things to worry about.

At one point, he catches a glimpse of your hair, but you are gone before he could even call out to you, leaving him with nothing but the smell of your perfume. Changbin, unsure of why his two groupmates suddenly stopped dead in their tracks, urged them onward, rightfully reminding them of their mission.

The trio found and fought a couple enemy groups including goblins and witches. What struck them as odd however, was that the enemies all seemed savagedized. After a long day, the three finally decide to set up camp.

“So who’s taking first watch?” Hyunjin asks.

“Well not you; you’d probably kill us in our sleep,” Changbin scoffs.

“Hyung, Hyunjin had your back a couple of times today,” Jisung interjects before Hyunjin can argue back.

“Once,” Changbin corrects. “And I would have been fine without it.”

“Well I don’t trust Changbin either,” Hyunjin snaps back.

“Fine, I’ll take watch,” Jisung offers. “Is that fine with everyone?”

A grumble of agreement ripples between the two others and they settle down. Jisung sits against a tree with a sigh and watches as the fire they built crackle and pop. He sighs again when he looks at the other two who are sleeping as far away from the other as possible, and he sighs yet again when wondering how you are doing.

After what feels like the hundred exaggerated exhales, he finally hears something that diverts his attention. Something rustled the bushes, sending Jisung to his feet. It sounds small, perhaps a squirrel or a racoon.

“Who is it?” Jisung growls just in case.

“Meow.”

A head of black fur pops out from the shrubbery. Jisung has only seen you transform into a cat once that night when you stole from him, but he immediately feels it in his veins that it is you.

You run to his side, happy to see him, and jump into his arms when he holds them out for you.

“Y/N? You’re on field medicine?”

“Meow.”

He leans into your pelt. “I guess it could have been worse.”

You blush under your fur when you feel his face buried in your side. You look around in embarrassment and spot Hyunjin. You squirm around for Jisung to let you go to him.

“Wait,” says the vampire, now fully alert of something.

You perk up your ears and hear it too. Someone is coming. There’s two of them, and they are moving incredibly quickly.

Jisung puts you onto the tree he was leaning on. “Hide up there, okay? And don’t look down; I’m going to look… well, scary.” He offers you a small smile, never wanting to scare you like he did during the baking session again.

“Changbin-hyung, Hyunjin,” he calls out.

The two wake up just as the people in question arrive. They’re vampires, but they look different from Jisung and Changbin even when they’re turned. Their hair is unkempt rather than clean and slicked back. Their eyes are red but unfocused. Their nails lay long and yellow on their fingers.

“Just vampires? This will be easy,” scoffs Hyunjin.

“You wanna fight?” Changbin snarls back.

“Guys, stop,” Jisung scolds. “Something is off about these two.”

Changbin nods, now more serious. “You’re right. I think they’re the Soul Vampires.”

“Soul Vamps?”

“Vampires who have killed,” Jisung explains. “Biting is addictive for us, especially if we do it so much the person dies. We can absorb parts of their soul through our teeth, which is why it’s so addictive. It can make us stronger, but it can also send us into an insane spiral of thinking of nothing but our next prey.”

“I’ve never seen one before,” Changbin comments with a grunt as he blocks a move from a Soul Vamp. “I guess this is why all the enemies we fought today were so weird; the other side has been feeding off humans.”

“So basically, they’re just a stronger enemy,” Hyunjin reiterates while taking his wolf form.

“Well there’s three of us and only two of them, so it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Actually,” Hyunjin growls. “Look at their hands.”

Between the nails of the Soul Vampires is something reflective. Silver. The blood they’ve drunk is letting them heal faster than the silver is causing harm. Changbin lets out a curse, and the air thickens.

An enemy lunges at Hyunjin. The wolf swivels around and pins his foe onto the ground. The vampire twists his arm around and swings silver at his paws. Hyunjin leaps backwards, unknowingly into the second vampire who is waiting with more silver.

Jisung luckily jumps in to push away the second adversary while Changbin wages a fight against the first.

“Thanks,” Hyunjin growls to Jisung.

“Sure.”

The two tag team and finally manage to drive off one of the Soul Vampires with only a few cuts and bruises. However, Changbin is not doing so well by himself. He lets out a grunt, and his comrades turn to find him on the floor with significant pieces of silver lodged into his right leg.

Jisung quickly blocks off the opponent from further hurting his friend. Hyunjin is also quick to the scene.

“Changbin! Prop yourself onto my back!”

“I’m not running away from a fight,” refuses the oldest of the three, “and I’m sure as heck not letting a werewolf help me.”

“Hyung!” Jisung opposes between struggling grunts. “You don’t have much of a choice; you can’t even stand!”

The Soul Vampire throws Jisung to the side and raises his hands which are loaded with silver.

“Grab my fur now!”

He doesn’t. Instead, he emits a blood-curdling scream as metal plunges into his body. He manages to avoid a few of them, but the other vampire throws enough to still knock him unconscious.

“Changbin-hyung!” Jisung cries, rushing to his side.

Hyunjin, seeing Jisung is distracted, headbutts the Soul Vampire in his stead before it can reach for more silver. The wolf chases the foe away, leaving just you and Jisung with an increasingly paling Changbin.

You open your eyes after hearing Changbin’s scream and jump from your tree to the fallen male.

“Y/N, Y/N,” Jisung cries desperately. “Do something. He’s… he’s…”

You release your transformation spell and throw open your medicine kit. You tear away the sticks, knowing silver will do more harm than blood loss, and toss it to the side. Your hands feel a sharp pain as your weak magic reacts with the metal, so you can only imagine what effect it must have on a creature like Changbin. Still, you move without ceasing until the very last piece is torn out.

Even after finishing, your hands sting.

“That’s not good,” you whisper.

“What is it?” Jisung whimpers.

You inspect your hands for the cause of the stinging and find a dusty substance. “Silver powder. It’s still inside him.”

“What can we do?”

“Remember the project Jeongin and I did? I found an even better method that uses a spell to reduce the effects of silver, but--”

“But?”

You bite your lip. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I’m going to start doing it. Do you have some blood in your bag? He’ll need to eat to gain energy.”

Jisung nods and feeds his hyung a packets of blood while you mix together a solution and pour it onto Changbin’s wounds while mumbling a spell. Jisung watches as the liquid solidifies around the silver under your command. He is in awe, but you are feeling something quite the opposite.

You are just a lowly witch. Really, you deserve all the insults and jokes others throw at you for being weak. During the third round of pouring the solution-- about half way through removing enough silver for Changbin’s body to heal itself, you can already feel your breath getting shorter and your vision losing focus.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Jisung asks.

You nod and swipe sweat away from your forehead before continuing with batch number four. You spill batch number five onto your shaking hands and Jisung asks the question again, this time holding onto your shoulders to support you. You shake him off, now unable to process his complaints, and make another mix. You push through that one and make the last blend. You pour it onto Changbin’s wounds and feel Jisung grabbing your wrists to inhibit you from casting your spell. You vaguely realize Hyunjin returning and use the distraction to slip a hand out from Jisungs grasp. You mumble the words one last time then let your body fall into panicking but secure arms.

“Y/N!”

Jisung grips at the bars around your bed, staring at your from and willing it to wake up.

"Are you mad at me?"

Jisung replies without looking back, "Why would I be mad?"

"If I had put my pride down and took Hyunjin's help, she wouldn't be like that right now."

Jisung finally turns to face Changbin who is sitting in the hospital bed beside yours. "I'm not. It is regrettable, but she was the one who decided to save you." He turns back away. "You should apologize to Hyunjin though. And thank Y/N when she wakes up."

Changbin looks down at his hands, processing Jisung's words.

"They're assigning me to another unit within the hour," Jisung continues. “Like they did with Hyunjin.”

"I'll look after her."

The blonde raises a brow at his hyung.

"I'll care for her in your steed, so don't worry," Changbin reiterates.

Jisung lets a small smile spread. “Thanks, Hyung.”

“Sure.” Changbin weakly returns the expression. “Go give ‘em h*ll.”

Jisung gives a sharp nod and, after one last look at your sleeping body, goes to get his new assignment.

After his departure is Changbin’s turn to look at you.

“Y/N,” he begins uncertainly. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to say this to you when you’re awake, but um, Jisung’s right. I guess I let my pride get in the way of doing what is best, and you got hurt because of it. What I’m trying to say is, I’m, uh, I’m sorry and thank you for saving me. You’re not as worthless as I stereotyped you as; you definitely don’t deserve the things I said about you.”

He scrutinizes your face, not sure why he is expecting a reaction. “And um, I guess I wanted to add that Jisung really likes you. He’s like a brother to me, so I want to make sure that whoever he chooses to spend the rest of his life with is worth it. It looks like he’s chosen you, so treat him well, okay? He can be a handful sometimes, but he’s honestly a ball of joy and love. Make him happy, and I promise I’ll, um, make sure you’re always happy too.”

You stir a little which sends Changbin’s heart racing, wondering if you heard the sap he just spewed. Luckily though, you seem to settle back into sleep.

You wake up the next morning. The first thing you notice is the lack of medical personnel attending the usually well-monitored hospital. Instead, a Changbin stares down at you while in crutches. You smell a tinge of blood in the air, and haggard breathing and coughing ripple through the halls.

Once confirming you’re awake, Changbin exits the room to hunt for an available nurse, a task that is proving to be increasingly difficult as the days of battle increases. The vampire is of little words. Still, he surprised you by tending to your every need from eating to helping you get to the bathroom.

Throughout the next three days, you slowly regain your strength with his help. The two of you learn that Soul Vampires are racking up casualties for your side. Twenty-six from your school has died from battle so far, six being just freshmen and four being well-trained seniors. Predator species on your side have been beginning to feed off family and friends in attempts to gain equal footing with them, which adds to the casualty count when someone loses control and kills their loved ones.

There has yet to be a vampire to try doing so, however. For one, they’re too occupied on the front lines to meet with their loved ones. For another, their enemy is exactly what they fear they’ll be if they tried feeding off a human.

Changbin looked grim when he was first presented with the idea of biting someone. You’ve tried to avoid the topic around him, but he is getting better rapidly, and will soon have to make the decision when he is sent to the front lines again. As a matter of fact, the day of departure is tomorrow.

“Mr. Changbin,” you address him as yet another wounded is wheeled past the two of you.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye, trying to look as cold as ever.

“I-if you decide to do it, I, er, can help you.”

He turns fully towards you and narrows his eyes, which makes you freeze, but you hold your ground.

“Why,” he interrogates you.

You don’t have a response. It seems natural; there’s a battle like no other, and the only way for your side to have a chance is for you to do this.

Changbin sighs at your lack of response. “Even if you’re willing. I’m not the one you should be saying that to.”

“Then take me to the field tomorrow for someone else to do it.”

“You’re not even discharged,” he scoffs.

“It doesn’t matter how I’m feeling for someone to bite me. Every second counts right now; we’re averaging a casualty an hour. We need someone who can stand a chance against those Soul Vampires to bite someone. Another vampire, namely.”

He continues analyzing you and breaking down the stereotypes he had of you. As much as he admires your courage, however, he had made a promise to keep you safe.

“I can’t,” he refuses.

“Why not? I can transform into a cat so my weight won’t strain your legs.”

“It’s not that. You’re willingness is admirable, I admit, but I’ve promised to keep you out of harm.”

“To whom?”

He gives you a look. You both know to whom.

“Then take me to him; I’ll get him to agree to let me be bit. You and I both know volunteers like me is the only way we can win this. There hasn’t been a vampire death yet, but I can’t imagine it’ll be long before there is one. We don’t know who it’ll be; it might even be him. What use will your promise be to a… well, a dead man?”

Changbin closes his eyes to give your words more weight. When he opens them again, his decision is clear. “Why wait until tomorrow then?

You thought your nose has gone blind to the metallic scent of blood in the hospital, but the smell is all the more sharp and pungent on the field. Bodies lay forgotten against trees or covered in dirt, strengthening your conviction more than ever.

You can’t tell if Jisung is furious or delighted. He asked Changbin to leave the two of you alone in the temporary military tent with ice in his voice but grips and regrips your arms while holding you fast in a hug as soon as the older male left.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, “why are you here? Are you all better now? When did you wake up? When did they discharge you? Did they treat you well? Did Changbin-hyung treat you well?”

“Jisung, I can’t breath,” you say while patting his back.

“Ah, sorry.” He lets you go but keeps his hands on your shoulders.

You offer him the best smile you can muster. “I’m fine.”

He sighs and smiles in relief. “So what are you doing here? They sent all the witches to unit 3.”

“Actually, I’m not here on orders; Changbin snuck me out.”

“What? That hyung, I’ll--”

You grab his wrist as he turns to find his victim. “Wait! I was the one who asked him to do it. I have something to ask of you.”

He looks back at you, giving you his full attention.

“Bite me.”

“What? No!”

“One of the vampires have to do it-- it’s the only way we can win-- and… and I rather it’d be you.”

“Do you know what that means? People have died from it! I’m not doing that to you.”

“I know what the process encompasses; I still think it’s the better option. I mean, look at what’s happening outside! We’re evidently losing; this is the only way.”

“No, I’m not doing it, and neither is anyone else. I’m going to ask the field medic to look after you. Then you’re going to unit 3.”

“Jisung--” you grab at his wrist again but miss and instead grab his sleeve. The fabric slips off his shoulder too easily, as if he doesn’t want it there, and reveal a near-fatal gash. It’s enough to make you wonder how he is even still conscious.

“Jisung,” you breath again, this time for a completely different reason.

He carefully pulls his shirt back on, careful not to agitate the wound, while staring at the ground.

“Jisung,” You whisper softer this time. “This can heal you. You won’t get hurt again and you can save everyone.”

“I know,” he replies, voice cracking. “But I can’t do this to you… You’re you… You’re… you’re… Do you know how I’d feel if I killed you?”

“And do you know how I would feel if you died out there while I stood here doing nothing?” you return gently. “You won’t kill me Jisung. Just take enough to not die yourself, okay?”

You slip his shirt off again to prove your point while brushing your hair to the side. Tears run down Jisung's face as your scent begins to overwhelm him, especially when you break the skin of your finger with your teeth and smear the blood over your neck. He leans forward, basically sobbing now, but stops.

You look at him questioningly. He fumbles with something around his neck and rips it off.

"Here. Make sure to tell me when to stop."

He slides his Soul Stone ring into your finger then bites.

It hurts. It isn't as romantic or sexy as movies depict. Being bitten by a vampire is nothing but pain. The both of you are crying in different but shared aches, and you feel your knees give out. Jisung holds you up to his teeth still even though your body wants to be as far from him as possible.

The ring burns against your finger, beckoning you to use it, but you will yourself to wait until the last moment. You want him to take what he needs, even as the world begins to blacken. You can see his wound closing rapidly and you focus on that. Then, as your vision finally wanes out, you mumble, "Jisung…"

But his fangs were already out of you moments before you said anything. Your blood was getting harder and harder to drink, and he wants nothing more than for him to drink harder and harder in return, but something stronger caused him to stop.

Something much stronger.

And so, he retracts himself instead and buries his head in your limp body, soaking it with tears.

By the time you come to again, the battle is already almost over. More vampires decided to follow Jisung’s lead and consensually bit others, leading to only one death from the process. What also helped your side was Jeongin and Bang Chan taking your solution and pouring it over the soul vampires, rendering the silver they held useless.

In just two days, you are able to stand by the front gate of your school, waiting to welcome your classmates home. The first person you see is none other than your best friend who runs over to you and swings you around.

“Y/N! We did it! We won!”

You share his excitement and pull him into a quick, tight hug.

The moment comes to an end when you release him. Hyunjin’s face is etched with worry as he runs his thumb over the gauze on your neck.

“I’m fine, Hyunjin,” you reassure him while gently pulling his wrist away from you.

“He bit you…”

“I asked him to.”

Hyunjin frowns harder. “Why?” But he isn’t really asking.

“Y/N.”

You both turn towards the voice and see Jisung with a goofy grin on his face. He pulls you in a hug as well which makes a warm smile stretch across your face. He then leans back a little to see your face and brush your hair from it.

“You’re awake,” he breathes.

You nod. “For two days now.”

Hyunjin watches the two of you interact with a pang in his heart. He doesn’t miss the green ring around your finger which you try to take off and return to its owner.

“No, keep it,” urges Jisung.

“It’s your Soul Stone though,” you protest. “This is like giving me your everything!”

“You’ve already stolen my everything.” He chuckles at the double meaning of his words which makes your breath hitch. “Y/N, I’m in love with you; will you be my girlfriend?”

Something in your stomach makes you look towards Hyunjin, but he has turned away from your conversation and is intensely studying a tree. You see Changbin walking over and giving the wolf a rub on the shoulder and you a reassuring nod.

You turn back to Jisung. “Yes.”

~ ad.gold

#vampsung #vampire jisung #han jisung #skz #stray kids #werewolf hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #jisung #vampire changbin #changbin #vampire bang chan #vampire chan #bang chan #witch reader #vampire au #han #20190901

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years ago

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*slides in hella early because it's almost midnight where i live and i have work in the morning so this is the only way i can "participate" in chelle chats jsjdjdjdkdkdjdjdj* chelle! any tips on how to stay motivated with creative writing? i'm starting classes again in september (rip me) and i already feel my motivation to write anything non-academic slipping YIKES 😬😬😬😬😬😬

Hey Cres!

That’s why I offer the opportunity to send messages in early for those who can’t make it on time! I also waited until I was home (and fed) to reply to this.

I have a few friends studying who find it difficult to write academically and creatively at the same time. And I was once a student myself facing this problem, well kind of. I did a lot of Creative Writing papers whilst in university so I was definitely still writing during that time but it wasn’t always easy to maintain the distinction between both writing forms. It takes a lot of mental effort to write academically and then switch off to creative writing. I’d find it sometimes stiff to go from writing an essay and then back to a chapter in the story I was writing. Sometimes, you just can’t write creatively when your mind is focused on deadlines and your degree information. And it sucks, because writing for a lot of us is a way to unwind into a world unlike our own. Acknowledging that you can’t commit to it at times and not getting too down about it would be helpful to keep a positive view on writing.

However, some ideas I have:

Make sure you jot down any ideas you have for when you do have free time. Nothing worse than losing an idea that could be fun to write because you didn’t take the time to jot it down.

Don’t take on big projects like a series if you feel you’re losing motivation, aim for easier projects like drabbles or oneshot scenarios. I’m a huge stickler for mindless writing exercises and it’s one of my most helpful writing tools. Don’t underestimate the value of a random prompt and writing out the first thing that comes to mind... it will help you with your writing and with feeling successful in doing something creative.

If you can and your schedule allows it, further, if you’re a creature of routine like me, try to set aside writing hours. You don’t have to stick to them if the time comes around and you’re swamped with something that’s come up, but if you can see yourself being able to allocate 1-3hrs a week to writing, try and find a place in your schedule where you would be the most likely to succeed in doing so. Choose the right times to write that will garner success. You will best know the type of environment/time of day you best thrive in as a writer.

This one is a bit controversial, but there are times where we don’t want to write but we kind of need to get over that hump so to speak. I can tell you I’m not bouncing with energy to write some days... sometimes I go, “ugh, why am I doing this project?” and have to force myself to write just a paragraph, but that can morph into a whole page / a full scenario / 3 parts in a series or in rare occasions, an entire story done in one day *cough hello Reconciliation, I see you from here cough* I dislike referring to it as forcing yourself to write, but we so often say “I can’t” before actually giving ourselves the chance to try with a bit of diligence.

I hope these can help? Every writer is different but for me, ensuring I keep regularly writing means I don’t have many occasions where I feel blocked up. However, I acknowledge that writing does eat up a lot of my time that I could be doing something else, and so it is somewhat of a balance act at times!

Good luck and sorry for how lengthy this reply is, hopefully you won’t mind!

______________________

My ask box is open for this week’s Chelle Chats!

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gayregis · 5 years ago

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Hi, just wanted to ask, how did you get into the witcher franchise (did you read the books before you played the games or vice versa?). Love your blog, byeeee :)

ty for the ask!! i hope you dont mind if i go too in-depth because i was legit thinking about this earlier today...

tldr: i played tw3 and liked it, then read the books

i got into the witcher because one of my favorite gaming youtubers was doing a playthrough of tw3 on youtube in around i think september 2017. i liked this specific gaming youtuber for being shit at games and not caring about it... but tw3 was a different game. it felt like the decisions mattered, that there was an actual story here, that when this youtuber made shitty decisions and didn’t really care about the characters involved, i got frustrated because this game seemed really good... so i picked up the game myself and played it though, it was magnificent. not to r/witcher “the witcher 3 is literally the best game created in this history of ever” but it was sincerely good... not only does it have a great story, characters, and graphics, but it is genuinely comfortable to play as a game, even if you’re not great at games (i like playing video games but i’m not good at them when it comes to combat, i literally just would prefer to hack and slash through). so, i played through tw3 and the fact that it made me cry multiple times i found to be really interesting... but it was still just a game to me, it wasn’t something i thought about when i have time to daydream headcanons. i had read i think the witcher (short story) halfway through playing, just to get a feel of what tw3 came from, but from that, i realized the books and the games were incredibly different entitities, and i decided to not read the books until i had finished the game, or at least until i had more free time on my hands (mind i was in high school and was a senior, and during this time was when i was submitting college applications... exceptionally stressful, and the reading/writing part of my brain was absolutely fried from essay writing and reviewing). i was particularly struck by geralt and ciri’s relationship and the isle of mists quests fucked me up pretty bad.

then around later 2017, i was really enjoying tw3, and had finished tw3′s base game and hearts of stone, and was now making my way into blood & wine. i was just playing it like normal, then came the part when geralt met regis. at first i wasn’t too interested (i mean, i was, but in the story of blood & wine, not in the books) until the little journal text pop-up appeared on my screen. you know, the one about quests you just received, or characters you just met. it was going through the motions of saying i finished this quest, picked up this new one, i was all like fine, fine, okay, alright, and then it just fucking puts regis’ long-ass name on the screen taking up a good amount of my FOV and i am immediately like, what? what the fuck? who the fuck? that’s the name? of the guy we just met? that guy??? he didn’t seem like someone with a name like that? who the fuck IS this guy.

so i head over to the wiki page for regis. i thumb through the basic information, i’m pretty interested, this quest stuff to find ciri sounds interesting. i decide to give the witcher books another try, because i have more free time now and am way more invested as everyone here as characters. also, i want to find out more about yennefer, because she was being badmouthed by everyone i saw online, and i wanted to read more about her and see if she was really so bad (spoilers: she’s not at all, the internet is just misogynistic).

i don’t think that i’m going to actually really care about these books, i just want more flavor and explanation about how in hell a witcher met a vampire and these two somehow became friends. so, i don’t care about reading them in order. i go online and find fan translations of every book, i open baptism of fire and i just start reading the bit about the fish soup. i’m suddenly just laughing my ass off, really interested in who these other characters are, milva and cahir, and how dandelion seems to actually be the best friend to geralt that he was said to be in tw3. i also notice immediately that geralt... oh my god, geralt’s such a cranky bitch. i’m SHOCKED at how annoying geralt is. i realize that this is probably what geralt’s been like, this whole time, and tw3 just gave me a sterilized version of him. i’m trying to decide if i like this change or not, at first i HATED it... but then realized it actually gave him a character, where in tw3 he feels a little more... empty, waiting for the player to project a personality onto him.

so, i just read all of the hansa bits of baptism of fire, skipping over anything i don’t understand. i am saddened when i can’t find any more, so i move onto tower of the swallow. and then lady of the lake. “oh, so that’s why geralt was surprised to see regis in blood & wine...” feeling at a loss after reading stygga, i start at the beginning and make my way through the books chronologically, like they should be read. i soon realize that this series really isn’t about killing monsters at all, and i’m thrilled. i thought the series was just going to be about geralt killing things in a swamp and reporting back to whoever hired him, like in tw3... and i was wrong. this series is about personal connections! relationships! ... and fatherhood. [see read more for personal junk]

i can’t remember when i started disliking tw3. it must have been around the time that i finished the books (im using the word finished loosely... i still havent finished some scenes because theyre too violent to read and continue with my day in peace, and i also read tos/lotl by skipping around, so i never got the full experience of reading them as full novels).

i just distinctly remember returning to my tw3 new game+ save after rereading the fish soup scene, and thinking about how lonely the game felt... i just felt so dispairingly alone, this loneliness that i hadn’t felt while playing before, that i had to put the game down. i returned to the game again, but i had just reread edge of the world... and i felt so alone again.

so reading the books ruined tw3 for me, not out of malicious intent, but just because i think i realized geralt isn’t meant to be the lone wolf. the novels center around him and his family and friends, and i just genuinely missed that when replaying tw3. plus, i began to realize a bunch of things, like ciri’s scar is supposed to be bigger, geralt’s supposed to wear his hair in a headband, yennefer’s hair is actually curly, dandelion’s supposed to actually be in the game. there were so many inconsistencies with the characters i had imagined while reading the books that eventually i just stopped playing tw3 (i already played it once, so nbd) and got really into the books.

sometime later i saved up like $80 to buy the paperback versions of the books (UK versions including season of storms) because i knew i was in really deep lol and i wanted the official translations super badly, also we were doing an assignment in class that allowed us to do something with our favorite book, but we needed to have it in-person and not as an e-book, so it was the perfect excuse. much time spent on hansa headcanons later and... here we are today.

a read-more, because this is more personal.

the witcher series picked me up at an eerily appropriate time. two things in it stood out to me: 1) geralt’s relationship with ciri 2) regis’s alcoholism.

i distinctly remember an event where i started crying in front of my parents because my dad was being so absent in my life or maybe it was because they were arguing, something like this... and i remember referencing tw3 isle of mists quest actually by saying “i shouldn’t have to learn it (good parenting) from a video game” ... lol. it wasn’t an epic burn from a 17 yo, but it was just a painful remark made in anger. i still think back to it because of how first watching geralt hug ciri made me feel and how i was actually really bitter because i was jealous of ciri for about a week after completing the quest. then i kind of pushed it out of my mind and didn’t think so much about it, until the night i mentioned it.

in late march of 2018, something very bad happened in my family. that’s probably the best way to describe it. the situation ended in my parents finally separating. my mom and i were pretty afraid and lost after that. after i had collected my thoughts and everything and went back to as “normal” as i could, about a month later, when the creative part of my brain finally began to function again and wasn’t inhibited due to fear, i clung to the witcher more than i did before... and this time, actually particularly to regis, because guess who has a whole redemption arc relating to not being alcoholic and being a genuinely good person who speaks gently and heals the vulnerable?

#anon #ask

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hela-avenger · 6 years ago

Text

Cameo Lover- Part 7

Author: hela-avenger

Word Count: 1220

Summary: “I wish that I was what you wanted me to be.” Loki x Reader

A/N: Sorry again for updating soooo late. I honestly don’t know when the next part will be. Hopefully late next week since I’m on break but I’m also swamped with homework so who knows?

Hela-Avenger Masterlist

Open up your heart to me

The sun won't shine if you're not looking

Baby love is all that you need

The monitor continues to beep periodically in the glass room. The stale smell of medicine and cleanliness makes you more ill than you already were at the sight of Loki’s state. Cuts and bruises peppered across his face. His hands remained uninjured and you have to stiffle your sobs when you recall that he never fought back. Not once.

When your wrath had turned to him, Loki took the beating. Whispers of assurances and forgiveness had escaped his lips but it did nothing to sever the rage within you. The same rage that had built up inside and the staff had merely brought out.

Loki had tried so hard to pull you away from the hold the staff held on you and he failed. He failed in the same way you did when you tried to pull him off that brink a few years prior. The only thing that saved either of you was Thor who had managed to knock you out while you were distracted in beating Loki.

Your hands tremble at the memories of the warehouse but you steel yourself away from those thoughts as your grip on Loki’s hand tightens.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry…”

You continue to whisper the sentence as a prayer while you remained glued to his side. Thor had tried to relieve you from Loki’s side but you ignored him.

By now, Steve had already informed the rest of the team about your interview and the alarming confession at the end. Clint had come in trying to make you talk but you refused to give him any of the answers that he sought for. As for Natasha, she lingered from outside confirming what everyone was starting to suspect.

FRIDAY had informed you that Tony and Steve were waiting for her in the conference room to discuss the matter further but she rejected the appointment. You couldn’t leave Loki’s side now. Not until he woke and showed that he was ok.

You are so consumed in your thoughts and Loki’s wellbeing you fail to notice the new presence in the room. The hand that lands on your shoulder scares you until you realize it was Bruce who was standing next to you.

“How are you doing?”

You huff at the simple question.

“How do you think I’m doing?”

“Ok, I get it. It was a dumb question,” Bruce responds brushing off your sarcasm. “Thought I would ask anyway.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Bruce,” you whisper to him. “I’m tired and tense about this whole thing and I just… I need Loki to wake up.”

“I understand,” Bruce states. “But the others don’t. They have some theories but they’re refusing to believe the proof that’s in front of them. Steve wanted me to explain but I know the story will come better from you.”

“They’re going to hate me once they know…”

“No, they won’t,” Bruce assures you. “They want to help you, Y/N, but they don’t know how. Not until you tell them everything.”

You know Bruce is right but you can’t find it in yourself to leave Loki alone.

“I’ll explain,” you whisper. “I’ll explain everything to everyone, but I’ll do it here. I’m not leaving his side. Not again.”

“I can make that work,” Bruce tells you. “I’ll get everyone here.”

Bruce turns to leave but you call out to him once more.

“Bruce…”

“Yes?” he asks as he turns back.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “I don’t know if I ever thanked you for everything you’ve done for me. It means a lot and I just… Thank you.”

Bruce gives you a smile before taking his leave. You let out a sigh as he disappears out of your sight and your focus returns to an unconscious Loki.

You’re running late for class. The paper in your hands still warm from the printer kiosk you just printed it from. You burst into the room ready to whisper apologies to your professor before you notice the complete silence in the classroom. Everyone is focused on the news being projected on the screen. Videos of the alien attack that happened in New York.

Hushed whispers are happening around you and all you can do is swallow the lump in your throat as the camera zooms into Loki in his battle regalia with the scepter in his hand.

“What the hell?”

“Can you believe this is happening?”

“It’s the end of the world.”

There were more comments and scared questions being asked. You wished you could muster a response of your own but it was hard to utter the words that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You were ready to run out of room but a strong hand lands on your shoulder and stops you from moving.

“Ms. L/N, I believe we need to talk.”

You slowly turn around to find a man with an eye patch staring you down with a woman behind him that was a similar scowl. The only man who seemed friendly was the one donned in leather.

“I’m sorry…” I state. “Do I know you?”

“No, but we do know you,” he answers. “And we know of the things you can do.”

You tense at the sound of this but you knew you couldn’t hide forever.

“Shall we?”

You nod knowing there was no other choice.

“... We went back to my apartment and Fury saw the damage that still remained from Loki’s attack,” you conclude as you told the story from start to finish. “He assumed I was attacked and that I managed to survive unscathed. Didn’t ask any more questions after that and he left me to finish my studies and told me to be ready to be recruited once I was done.”

You let out a sigh as the story wound down to its end.

“And here I am now a few years later,” you whisper. “I never thought I would see Loki again. I thought he would be in alien jail for the rest of eternity but I was wrong. Here he is in a coma because of me… because I couldn’t push down my emotions any longer. He tried to apologize and I just… I couldn’t forgive him and now…”

Your emotions take a hold of you and Bruce is quick to comfort you.

“This is not your fault,” he assures you.

“If I had known Lady Y/N, I would have… I would have spoken some sense into my brother,” Thor acknowledges.

“It was not your battle to fight, Thor,” you respond. “But thank you.”

Your attention then turns to the rest of the team who had been oddly silent. You knew it would be too much for them to understand but you couldn’t hide the truth any longer.

“So what happens now?”

Steve clears his throat and glances over at Tony who just shrugs.

“We will review all of this and get back to you,” Steve sighs out. “Just go rest, Y/N. You need to heal too.”

You were about to argue against his order when a shallow groan catches everyone’s attention. You all turn to look at Loki and find his eyes fluttering open.

#loki x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #prince loki x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson x you #loki odinson x you #prince loki x you #loki x ofc #loki laufeyson x ofc #loki odinson x ofc #prince loki x ofc #loki fanfic #marvel au #thor au #fluff #angst #cameo lover part 7

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bnhascribbles · 6 years ago

Text

Competition

Shinso x Teacher!Reader

Fluff & Humor; Just a couple of ridiculously sarcastic teachers figuring out their relationship and navigating an (intentional) misunderstanding

Words: 3.3K

Warnings: Very mild swearing

Sometimes, you really believed that full-time heroes had it easy. Sure, they had to risk their lives daily, but then again, so did you. As a teacher at U.A., you were all-too-familiar with the fact that danger was a part of the curriculum. After all, when a hero-in-training screwed up, it was your job to yank them out of whatever situation they found themselves in. You had a collection of scars stemming from misfired quirks, shrapnel from training-ground explosions, and the occasional struggle to pull apart brawling students. That wasn’t even the worst part of teaching. It was the fact that if you failed your “mission,” if you failed these kids, you weren’t just ruining their lives, you were putting the entire country at risk–it would be like filling barrels with gunpowder and just watching them roll into a burning building.

Naturally, this meant that your workdays seldom actually ended with the ring of the final bell. There was always stuff to do after classes ended–papers to grade, exercises to plan, troublemakers to scold. Your most recent project involved planning summer training camp for the second years. The students this year had a diverse combination of quirks, so it was up to you and the teacher from 2-A to devise a program that would incorporate several different training regimens. Picking the location, creating individualized plans for each student, recruiting pros to act as stand-ins in the moments where the two of you were off making sure everything ran like clockwork–most of the time, you were swamped, working well past dark. On those nights, coffee and sugar were your lifelines. You’d set up shop in a 24-hour donut shop and pray that you’d manage to leave before the 3 AM drunks began to pour in through the doors. This had been your reality for the past three weeks, four days, and seven hours.

Tonight marked the end of all that–after you double-checked all of the arrangements, you were free. Knowing that the planning was done and that you could finally relax should’ve been a reason for celebration. Well, it wasn’t. Not because you were a sucker for suffering and certainly not because two hours of sleep was the perfect amount you needed in order to teach a class full of hormonal teenagers. No, it was because, despite the long hours and constant stress of the whole process, you actually enjoyed spending time with the grumpy teacher of 2-A.

Shinso and you weren’t friends in the traditional sense of the word—you only ever interacted at school and in these little meetings. Even so, your banter was famous at U.A. In the halls, the classrooms, the training grounds–everywhere you met, the two of you were at each other’s throats. Sure, it might’ve had something to do with your drastically different teaching styles–he was way more of a disciplinarian than you were–but the truth was, it probably because Shinso was the only person you knew with a wit sharp enough to match your own.

“I thought I saw you crack a smile at the sports festival. Congratulations, I didn’t know ‘Shinso-sensei’ was capable of experiencing actual human emotion.”

“Clever, clever. Maybe if you directed a fraction of the energy you spend insulting me into actually teaching your class, then it’d be half-competent.”

However hostile the exchanges seemed, all of it was done in good fun–most of the time, you were snickering before you even got through your next comeback. Still, it was easy to see why some people might get the wrong idea. In your first month of teaching, both of you were called in individually for a meeting with the principal. Apparently, however playful you knew your bickering to be, other teachers had a difficult time grasping the...intricacies of your humor. They thought that you and Shinso genuinely wanted to murder each other. Even after explaining the situation to Principal Nezu, however, he was adamant that the two of you put an end to the insults.

So naturally, the two of you acted like the smartasses you were and shot off to the opposite end of the spectrum. If you were gonna have to be nice, you were gonna do it your way, dammit.

“Wasn’t gonna stop by, but after seeing those class rankings, I just had to. You should be SO proud. One student in the top thirty? Wow, what an improvement.”

“Thanks, Shinso. I really appreciate you walking all the way to my classroom to tell me that. God, I’m sorry for getting distracted, but can’t help asking: How much sleep did you get last night? Because I am LIVING for those dark circles.”

You can’t be sure when exactly you started anticipating your little encounters, when it was that hearing the sound of his voice became the highlight of your day. You don’t know when realized you liked him–beyond the whole “friendship” or “professional admiration” sort of stuff. Sure, the man was fatalistic, arrogant, and liked to pretend that he was apathetic towards just about everything, but there was more to him than that. You saw the way he worried over his students–how he’d spent nearly the entire provisional license exam clenching onto the edge of his seat, his knuckles white. Then, there was his talent for committing the tiniest things to memory. Trivial things, like how your favorite color was purple. After you’d mentioned it offhandedly in one of your little “arguments,” you found that every written reminder from him (“Turn in this form today” or “Midterms happening next month”) came on a distinctive, lilac-tinted sticky-note. He was paying attention. Maybe it was wishful thinking on your part, but that was the first sign you noticed that, maybe, he liked you too.

So as you sat in that cheap old donut shop, wrapping up your last “planning night” together, you decided to take the leap.

“If you aren’t too busy scheming up new ways to crush your students’ spirits, then we should meet up again tomorrow.”

“Why, did we forget something?” Shinso groans, flipping through his papers. “Cots? Food?” He takes another swig of his coffee. “The students are old enough to figure it out. A couple days of roughing it won’t kill them.”

“Harsh. But no, that’s not it. I’m completely over work; I was imagining something a little more casual.” You swallow hard, willing yourself to follow through. You’ve thought about this for way too long to chicken out now. “Something more date-like.”

Shinso peeks up at you out of the corner of his eye. He stares for a moment, then he leans back in his chair, fiddling with the plastic tab on the lid of his drink.

“I might have to pass on that. I’ve got a girl waiting up for me back home, and the longer I’m out, the pissier she gets.”

You can feel the red-hot flush as it creeps across your face, coloring every inch of your skin. God, you probably looked like some sort of overripe tomato. In a frantic attempt to hide, you take a large gulp from your cup and hold it up against the bottom half of your face, even when you’re done. Your hot chocolate doesn’t taste sweet anymore–it’s bitter and leaves a chalky, burning feeling in your throat. Then again, that could be embarrassment setting in.

“Oh.” It’s a struggle to keep your voice level–a struggle that you lose. Diffusing the situation with humor isn’t even an option–you were smart dammit, but you couldn’t focus for long enough to say something even remotely thought-out.“I had no idea...I didn’t mean–”

“It’s alright.” Thankfully, he cuts off your stammering before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. “Not many people know about her; She’s not so good with strangers.” He places his coffee down on the tabletop.

“That’s awesome.” You mumble through a pathetic, fake smile.

Stop it, that little voice in your head warns.

“Not the, uh, stranger part. That’s unfortunate.”

Please shut up. For God’s sake, you still have to WORK with this dude.

“It’s cool that you’ve got someone.”

Just get up and leave while you still can. Fake a phone call. A heart attack. ANYTHING.

“More than some people can say, haha.”

Awesome. If he didn’t already think you were desperate, he sure does now.

You finally listen, stopping yourself before any more word-vomit can escape your lips. The damage has already been done, though. Men cackle boisterously at a table to your right. A barista drones through a generic list of house specials for a customer. The espresso machine hisses and bubbles angrily. But you and Shinso sit in complete silence. You pretend to be utterly fascinated by the lip of your cup, folding the edge up and down. Really, you just needed something to stare at. Something that wasn’t him.

“Want to meet her?”

The air gets caught in your throat as you inhale, and you let out an incredibly obvious, choked cough. “Excuse me?” Hiding your shock is off the table now. Then again, you’d already managed to make a fool of yourself–how much worse could it really get?

“Do you want to meet my kitten?” He speaks slowly, stressing each individual word, but you’re still at a loss. “I actually think she might like you.”

Things were getting really weird, really fast. Surely, he had to know that the proposition was absolutely insane. As it stood, all you wanted to do was go home and curl up on your sofa–pretend you’d never bumped into him and drown your humiliation with a bottle of cheap grocery store wine and a pint of ice cream. If you were lucky, you’d sleep through your alarm. At least then you wouldn’t have to see those indigo eyes tomorrow morning, wouldn’t have to pass him in the halls pretend everything was fine. The two of you would squabble, as always. He’d leave his sticky notes, as always. Maybe, if you were lucky, they’d still be purple. Hell, it wasn’t like the color actually meant anything, after all.

The more you think about it, the more the self-pity festers, becoming something else. Frustration. Was the moron possessed? What on earth would make him even entertain the thought that you’d want to meet his “kitten” (even thinking about the pet-name made you want to gag)? He’d rejected you. That should’ve been the end of it; He should’ve just let you skulk off and ponder past sins–the reasons why the universe saw fit punish you with the curse of boldness and bad timing.

Of course, Shinso hadn’t said no to you outright. Still, he’d made it very clear that he was taken. He had a girlfriend.

...except, he’d never really said that any of that. You’d just filled in the blanks. After all, that was the only possible–

“How are you with fur?” He cuts off your thought with another question.

And it clicks. The absurd, ridiculous, impossible idea that you hadn’t even noticed percolating at the back of your mind suddenly becomes plausible–logical even. You forget about your assumption, opting instead to act on what you know. Verbatim.

His girl.

His kitten.

“Hitoshi Shinso.” No, it couldn’t be true. You were just being insane. Wishful.

“Yes?” It’s drawn out, teasing. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

“I know you’re not talking about your actual cat. Because if you are, so help me god, I will end you.”

He cocks up an eyebrow, smirking. “Promise?”

The bastard.

You bury your face in your hands, dumbfounded. You don’t know whether you should get angry or laugh or just breathe. When you peek through your fingers at Shinso, he at least has the decency to look a little guilty–emphasis on a little.

“In my defense, I thought you’d figure it out quicker than that.”

“In my defense, I’ve never heard a man use his pet as an excuse not to go on a date.”

There’s another silence, but it’s a different sort from the first. Less uncomfortable–still a bit awkward, but more pensive than before. Shinso stretches against the back of his chair, staring at the ceiling. You shift in your seat and peer out the window.

Shinso is the first to speak.

“I’m free all day Sunday.”

You turn towards him, shaking your head, incredulous. But when you look up, his expression isn’t mocking or cocky. He’s using his palm to almost completely cover the bottom half of his face–you can’t even see his mouth behind it. His other arm is curled tight around his stomach, like he’s trying to protect himself from some imaginary punch to the gut. The posture was all-too-recognizable. The man was nervous. Just like you’d been when you’d asked him.

Part of you was thrilled that everything had managed to work out, even if it’d taken longer than you’d expected to reach this point. But then, there’s also an ounce of bitterness left in that petty, petty heart of yours. Not enough to leave Shinso sitting in agony for too long, but certainly enough to draw out his suffering the slightest bit. You weren’t going to make things easy for him after he’d tortured you with his little joke.

You fold your arms across your chest and let your jaw shift to one side. “I don’t know, is your cat really gonna be okay with that? Wouldn’t want her getting jealous or anything.”

“I’ll get her permission tonight.” A quick response. Even if the words seem playful, his voice is brittle, on edge. “So?”

You suck in air over your teeth, resting your elbows on the tabletop and resting your thumbs beneath your chin. “Well, I’ve never been the best at sharing.”

Shinso catches onto your act, letting the hand fall away from his mouth. He breathes in a long, deep breath through his nose. The corner of his lip twitches and twists upward.

“I’m afraid my little girl and I are a package deal.” He slides his papers to the side and leans forward, mimicking your posture.

“Can I at least know the name of my competition?” You ask with an upward lilt on the final word.

“Bean.”

You laugh out loud, despite your best efforts to seem serious and seductive. Bean. Never in a thousand years would you ever even consider that a little fur-ball named Bean would cause you so much trouble.

“And you’re sure you’re not down to negotiate?”

“No. This is an all-or-nothing sort of deal.”

“Ouch. With baggage like that, it’s no wonder you’re still single, Shinso.” You try not to get distracted by the closeness of your faces. It’s difficult considering the fact that your forearms are practically pressed against each other. The tiny size of the café table is beginning to show. “Do people usually pack up and leave once you’ve stated your terms?”

There’s a pause as his gaze flits between each of your eyes. “I wouldn’t know, none of them have ever made it this far.”

Oh. You can’t tell if he’s being serious, or if he’s just that smooth. Either way, your pulse quickens. It doesn’t help that your faces are mere inches apart. You can count each of his eyelashes, smell the coffee on his breath, feel the warmth radiating off his skin. He has you completely intoxicated by his presence; It makes you reckless.

“So I’m special.” Not a question–an observation.

He purses his lips, then smiles. “I guess you are.”

That’s it. Something about the way he says the words–without a hint of sarcasm or insincerity–shakes you to your very core. You feel the heat in your neck first, feeling it sear your skin as it creeps up to your cheeks and ears. Then comes the buzzing in your skull, the frantic thudding of your heart in your chest.

“So?” He says it softly, like he’s afraid to actually hear your response. For all the reluctance in his voice, Shinso himself is bold. Before you even know what’s happening, he’s reaching across the almost-nonexistent space between the two of you, his hand hovering beside the place where your fingers rest on your cheek.

“ ‘So,’ what? You didn’t ask a question.” You’re hyper-aware of everything–the temperature of the air, the subtle tremble in his arm, your own shallow breathing.

“You understood what I meant, though.”

His hand inches in closer, and when finally feel it dust over the side of your palm–experience the jolt of pure electricity that sparks through you where his skin meets yours–you almost forget to draw things draw things out. Almost.

“If you were hoping I’d agree to go out with you, then prepare for disappointment.” When his fingers edge in beneath your own, gently coaxing your palm away from your cheek, your breathing hitches involuntarily. You press on anyway. “My houseplant doesn’t like it when I spend time with other guys.”

He huffs, and you can tell he’s trying not to smile. “Come on. I’m being serious now.”

He drags your hand down to the table, laying it palm up. His fingers start at your wrist, tracing over the shallow creases in your palm. Slowly, deliberately–like he’s trying to commit each line to memory. When you look up at his face, it really does look like he’s studying; His eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, his lips pulled off to one side of his face. A strand of hair floats down in front of his eyes, but he ignores it. It’d be easy to believe he thought there was nothing more important at that moment than the shape of your hand beneath his fingers.

Your heart is done being petty. You cut straight to the part where you stop playing hard-to-get and actually say what you want.

“You are single, right?” You curl your fingers and catch his hand, putting an end to its exploring. “I mean, besides the live-in-home cat-girlfriend.”

He lifts his eyes up from the table, laughing. “Yeah, I am.”

You exhale, relieved. “Good, I just had to make sure.” You don’t even consider prying your hand away from his. Instead, you remove your other one from your cheek and gesture outwards towards Shinso. “Give me your phone.”

He doesn’t hesitate to obey, reaching into his pocket (notably, with his free hand) and practically tossing his phone into your outstretched palm. You begin entering your number.

“Seriously, though, the next time you scare me like that, I’ll sic my class on you.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Right, because I’m absolutely terrified of class 2-B.”

“You should be.” You check the newly-entered contact and hand him back his device. “They’re crazy strong, and they actually like me. Not like those 2-A thralls you train.”

“One of your students was sent to the clinic last week for getting his arm stuck in a locker. Not even two days later, another one gave herself a concussion because she tried to jump in the conveyer belt for lunch trays.” He leans forward, going to slide his phone back into his pocket. “Like I said: I’m terrified.”

You pretend to be annoyed at the jab, but really, you’re too over-the-moon to be even a little convincing. Really, you could’ve gone back and forth with him all night. You could’ve insisted that your class was superior–that they were intelligent and creative and street-smart, but Shinso probably already knew that; This was all just another act meant to get a rise out of you. It might’ve worked any other day, but tonight, you’re too willing to let him get away with more than usual.

When you get home that night, you get a text from an unregistered number. It’s a photo message–an image of a puny calico kitten lounging on top of a sofa, staring intently into the camera. The next text comes in about thirty seconds later. It was less than ten words long, but it made you burst into a fit of giggles all the same.

As you can see, you’ve got some stiff competition.

#shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #bnha shinsou #bnha x reader #bnha reader insert #bnha #mha #bnha imagines #shinso hitoshi #shinso #mha imagines #bnha shinso #WOW this is long #Truly didn't intend for this #Nobody even asked for this #But oh dear do I love banter

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