#A few days ago I was reading something in an academic setting that did the same thing and I thought of this precisely

[fragmentedblade]

Stupid criticism about Jing.liu's quest again over on twitter

[cupcakeinat0r]

Your loser, Middle-aged Genetics professor with a dadbod <3

pt. 7

A/n: Hey y’all! Just a quick apology for such a long wait for an update, just came back from a relaxing vacay!! But as soon as I got off the plane back home, I started writing cuz the creative juices were juicinggg <3 Anyways, enjoy <333 Hopefully this serves as a good apology ;)

4 exams down, 3 more to go. The finish line of the semester was so close yet so far. Not gonna lie, your sanity was hanging on by a rope, your strongest and only support system being one person. He was the most sweetest, smartest, and respectful person you have ever had the blessing of meeting. It may not have been in the most conventional (or convenient) of ways, but still, it couldn’t have felt more like the storybook that you wanted and dreamed your life would be. Amidst your academic tribulations, he made you feel like royalty.

Even now, as you wait in the library and your phone goes off with a notification from Miguel, whom you had referred to as ‘Professor O’Hara’ only just a few months ago, you are still in dreamland with the fact that you were—

Well, at this point, you two haven’t quite fleshed out the label of y’all’s relationship just yet, but for now, you tell yourself that you two are talking. So yes, even now, you truly can’t believe that you are talking with your adorable professor.

You mentally take note that this will be a conversation that you two will have to have in the near future.

Your attention is now on your phone, reading a message under the contact name ‘Mig 🤓’.

“We ended earlier than planned. Headed over there now❤️”

You smile at the message, already typing a response up.

The night he told you about his late daughter was almost a week ago, and since then, y’all have set aside a day to go to the public library. You both agreed that it was nice, quality time, and wanted to do something like that again; just talking, being with each other, and forget about school for a while. Plus, exams have sort of kept yall apart for the past week, so it was very much needed.

Now you wait at the library where you and Miguel agreed to meet at after he finishes a recitation he had to substitute for.

‘ “Ended earlier than planned” ??? You’re not slick, DID YOU END CLASS EARLIER TO COME HERE???’

‘No, of course not, I would never do that.’

…

‘But maybe.’

‘Uhuh... See you soon <3’

‘See you soon, mamita ❤️😘.’

With a content hum, you put down your phone and turn your face toward the quiet buzz of people reading, chatting over coffee, and studying. Even though it's been months since knowing Miguel, you still feel jitters when about to see him. You can't help it. Everything about him makes you nervous in the best possible way. From how his smile lines crease, how that one little curl falls on his face, how he always speaks to you with a slight pout, the way his sweater vests hug around his full chest and soft tummy, all the way to how he looks at you like you’re his muse. You couldn't stop smiling just thinking about him. And to think, everyone in class just thought he was a total killjoy; backs straighten and all conversations cease when he enters the room. If only they knew the real him, but a part of you is glad you're the only one to see it.

Just a couple of blocks down, Miguel is gathering his things, excited to meet up with you. As he sharply nods to the last few students leaving the room, wishing them a good Summer break and luck on their finals, his expression becomes soft as he thinks of you. Quickly, once he has the room to himself, he takes a minute to put on one or two sprays of his best cologne, fix his hair, and remove his tie. He knew how much you liked it when he wore his button-ups like this; a few left unopened at the top. He felt ridiculous, but you always commented on it, and it would make Miguel feel good.

That was another thing; since seeing you, Miguel's confidence has so much improved. He did, however, take a glance over at his cardigan that hung on the back of his swivel chair and contemplated wearing it. It used to be his safety net; an effort to try and hide his soft figure, but that was old Miguel. New Miguel wanted to impress you and, even though he’d never admit it, would try to get the most compliments out of you. Despite feeling like he let himself go, you made him feel like he was a total knock-out, which never failed to make his cheeks grow darker, and he plans to return the favor for however long you’ll have him.

Miguel arrives, scanning the enormous room for you, a bright, colorful speck among the sea of dark-colored apparel. You wore an outfit he had bought you during the semester. He’s indifferent when looking for you, but when he spots you, his lips curled just slightly, the crows feet of his face creasing. He glides across the room, but any faster, he’d be running. He tries to act collected, but you both know he’s ecstatic to see you.

"Hey mama," He stands before you, holding out your hands as if to exhibit an art piece, "You look beautiful today, as always”. His eyes graze over every single inch of you, up and down. There’s something sexy about seeing you in something he bought you, even if it wasn’t all that exposing. You go in for a hug, acting as if you haven’t seen him in weeks (You both see each other in the hallways like every day, y'all just haven't been able to be with each other in a minute).

You smile against his broad chest, "Thanks, cutie, and you look handsome, as per usual.” You give his thick torso a soft run down with your hands. Miguel looks around bashfully, even though no one is paying attention. Physical touch came easy for him when you two were alone, but in public? That’s another story.

You look up to see his wandering eyes fall back on you. “I’ve missed you,” you shift all your weight onto him, holding onto his waist like a koala bear on a tree. You get on your tip toes to reach his cheek, pressing a kiss there, “mwah! so much.” The simple gesture was enough to turn Miguel into a mess. It takes everything in him not to completely smother you out in the open, but would rather save that for when there’s privacy.

Miguel holds you as if you were a porcelain doll. Something rose in his chest, call it pride; Proud to show off the gorgeous woman in his arms. "I missed you more." He says softly.

"So? How was the class?" you hold onto his hand while looking for a place to live in for the afternoon.

Miguel looks as well and spots a vacant, quiet little corner of the library, one that sits almost separate from the rest of the crowd. He gives your hand a small tug, motioning for it. "It was actually quite nice. The students were pretty engaged for it being an 8AM... I dunno, I might pick it up next semester." He sets his bag down before grabbing you a chair for you to sit on, as well as a cushion for you to lay your back on. He grabs a stool for himself once he sees you're comfortable and sat.

You give his forearm a caress, a small act of encouragement, "Well, I think you should. You're so good at what you do. Trust me, I should know." you give him a smirk, making him crack a smile.

"Which reminds me, you feel good for tomorrow? 'cuz if you're needing review for anything, we could go over it right now-" You place a hand on his arm, "Mig! I'm fine! I feel completely fine. Besides, I've tutored over a dozen people, I pretty much know the material like the back of my hand. Please, relax, you need it."

Miguel sits back now, "But if you change your mind, you'll let me know, right?" You nod, and Miguel relaxes at last. He sees the book you pull out and reads the spine of it. Wuthering Heights. It’s one of Miguel’s personal faves. He looks forward to seeing your small reactions once you get toward the end. It was endearing the way you reacted to what you read, let it be a faint widening of your eyes or a small gasp. He also loved watching your concentrated face. He thinks back to all those lectures he spent watching you take your color-coordinated notes in his class, your glossed lips pursed and your eyebrows faintly knitted. It never went unnoticed by him. Adorable.

You do a double-take at Miguel's choice of book, not believing what you read the first time. "Jane Austen?" "…Yes?" "You like Jane Austen?" "Yes. " Miguel says this so matter-of-factly, it leaves you kind of in shock. It was a cute surprise. Smiling, you let a puff of air out your nose, shaking your head as you open your book. “What’s so funny?” Miguel smiles, wanting know what you’re thinking now.

“Ugh, I-“, You almost let a certain 3-word phrase slip from your lips, but you stop yourself. “ I… just wasn’t expecting that, is all. Have you read ‘pride and prejudice’?”

“Yeah, loved it. It’s why I’m reading this one.” He looks down at the cover, which, in intricate letters, reads sense and sensibility. Your smile is even wider now that you know the man of your dreams is a fellow Jane Austen fan. “Me, too. Let me know what you think, then.” You softly say, starting on your book. “Of course. By the way, anyone ever taught you not to judge a book by its cover?” You roll your eyes and nudge him, making him chuckle in his throat. Although Miguel’s humor wasn’t exactly the most original, his sass takes the cake, and you love it. Feeling romantic, Miguel leans over and kisses your cheek once, twice, then gently brings your lips to his by your chin to plant a third kiss.

After finally quenching his need for your kisses, he settles in his spot and reaches for your hand, which you grab instinctively. Like always, his thumb caresses across your knuckles, and you both fall into a peaceful silence, transporting to your individual worlds within your books.

<3

The time in the library is nothing short of peaceful and fun. The first while of reading, Miguel would get up to use the restroom, but on his way back, he would’ve gotten you a cup of coffee for you and himself. A little later, you’d get up as well, but not for the restroom, but to grab him a treat, as well as for yourself. His eyes widen in pleasant surprise when he sees you walk back with them in your hands. He always did have a sweet tooth.

For the rest of the time, you’ll reach over occasionally to push his glasses back up his nose, or sometimes, without looking up from his book, he’ll simply pull your hand up to his lips, and press a butterfly kiss there, the faint smack of the peck making your heart skip a beat. And he doesn’t just do it once, he has to do this every so often because he just can’t resist; the man needs to feel you like as if you’ll disappear out of nowhere.

And you don’t notice, but every now and then, Miguel looks over at you, just admiring. He watches how your eyes inch deeper into the pages as you soak in the language. He can stay like this forever. Reading books with you while you hold hands. For a second, he feels the bottom of his stomach drop because he knows the day will have to end, and he’ll have to go back to class tomorrow, as do you. Sure, you’ll both be in the classroom, but you’ll have to pretend. Miguel was growing tired of the game. He then thinks about how near Summer is, and if he’ll see you then. Not as your professor, but as someone who deeply cares about you.

He’s already making plans on the possible trips you two could make. Maybe spend two weeks in Italy, or maybe just simple weekend roadtrips to nearby, quaint towns. He’s thinking about taking you to only the nicest, fanciest places in Nueva York.

Guiltily, his mind wanders into trips to the bedroom. How he’d love to take care of you and make sure you felt loved. Above all, your pleasure would be his. Oh, how he’d worship you like the goddess you were because dammit, you are one, and to this day, he’s still unsure how he scored you. How he, the intimidating, quiet giant, won an ethereal princess like you. He sort of smiled to himself as he realized:

Gabriella’s favorite bedtime story was becoming his life right before his eyes.

And like many times before, Miguel’s mind wanders even more. He’s thinking of the wedding, the honeymoon and the endless amount of rounds, the baby shower… having a kid with you. He’s fully aware of how crazy it is to think about it so soon, but at the same time, it feels so right. With you, it does.

Your caring, attentive nature, sweetness, cleverness, patience, and drive, they were all qualities of someone he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with. Your desire to better yourself and hunger for knowledge is evident in your work for your masters. Your softness that had so remarkably torn down his walls. And of course, there was your unmistakable beauty, but that’s just a bonus!

As he continues to watch you read, your hand lovingly locked with his, he realizes his feelings are no longer casual, no. Miguel’s breath hitches when a realization dawns on him. Rather than a ton of bricks, it feels like a weight lifted off his stiffened shoulders.

He looks at you, and he feels what could only be described as true, total, and complete love.

“‘Scuse me, sir.” Miguel snaps toward the low voice, “Library’s closing in 10 minutes.”

These hushed words sweep your attention from the book in your hands, your face falling in small dismay. You both look at each other, Miguel giving you a shrug that conveys ‘it is what it is’.

“Aw man, I got so caught up in reading, I feel like we didn’t get to talk as much as I wanted to.” Miguel is gathering both of yalls things, leaving your hand for last. You grab his, and you both begin to head out, the swarm of people that was here before gone. “We can still talk if you’d like. We can go to my office?” You nod gingerly.

“Then c’mon, let’s go.” Without asking, he grabs your bag from you and slings his and yours onto his shoulder, and you both leave hand in hand.

<3

After braving the storm that seemed to come out of nowhere outside, Miguel lets you into his office first, closing the door behind you two. The campus was dimly lit, only housing a few students who were doing some late-night studying. Hopefully, no one saw you two shuffling toward his classroom.

You look around his office, and for the first time, if feels new. It’s somewhat dark, the storm outside supplying the only light in the room. You’ve been in here countless of times, helping Miguel out with class work or tutoring, so it shouldn’t feel any different, yet, it does. Maybe it’s because every time you’re in here, you’ve never got the chance to really look at it. You’re always in and out. And if y’all weren’t in here, you were sitting in the lecture hall just outside the office door. Now that the fluorescent lights are off, you realize just how clinical they made it feel in here.

Miguel observes how you look along his walls where a multitude of diplomas hang. He thinks about saying something, but doesn’t want to interrupt; instead, he allows you to examine his space, finding it charming. It’s like he’s letting you in on his life. He pretends to busy himself with something else, leaving you to explore. Which is fine, really. You two have fallen into many comfortable silences before.

Then you move onto his shelf, filled with nothing but books and maybe one picture frame, but you’re not sure. It’s laid flat on the shelf. You go away from it for a second, going back to the spines, reading them off in your head. Some DNA encyclopedias, anatomy studies, Genetic Theory… ah, here we go. Leroux, Fitzgerald, Verne… is that Shelley? Atwood? Woolf? Plath?! Then, of course, there’s Beauty and The Beast. You pause there for a second, remembering Miguel’s most cherished memories that are tied to this story. Some more Jane Austen… oh, and look, Wuthering Heights!

“You’re more than welcome to take any of those. What’s mine is yours.” He sits on the couch that sits along the wall of his office, laying back with his arm laid across the frame of it. You pull out Wuthering Heights and walk towards him, “What’d you think of this one?” You go to take a seat next to him, nuzzling against his side, your head at its assigned spot on his shoulder. “Nice try, sweetie, but don’t wanna spoil it. Though I will say, it’s really good.” his face brightens along with yours, “I think you’ll like it. Brace yourself for the ending, though.” His arm wraps around you now, his thumb making small circles on your shoulder like he usually does.

“How about Miss Austen?” You put the book on a small table beside the couch. Miguel thinks about it for a second. “She’s got this sort of sarcastic wit that I can really get behind. But in all seriousness, her social commentary is brilliant. Still applies to this day, in some ways. And her style, wow…” You can see Miguel get lost in his thoughts, his emotions having their rare time in the limelight as he proceeds to list off Jane Austen’s wonderful writing attributes. It felt so good to see him like this. To be able to get him talking like this was a big win in your book.

“…Just overall, I’m a total fan now.” He nods, looking over at your dazzling eyes. “No, no, keep going.” You urge him, overcome with adoration. Miguel smiles at the floor, shaking his head. “I can listen to you talk allll day, honestly.” He looks off into the office still smiling bashfully, away from your revering gaze. “D’aw, don’t be so shy, I love listening to your voice. It’s so soothing, Mig.”

“You’re… stealing my lines.” A chuckle rumbles in his chest while you taunt him with a giggle of your own. In an effort to quiet you and from flustering him further, he envelopes you with his arms, you reaching for his neck simultaneously, and you both meet in the middle with a kiss so sweet, it could develop diabetes. With your lips locked, he grabs your thigh and swings it over his hips, his soft stomach taut against yours. You both smile against each other’s lips, soft laughs in tune with the rain that hits against walls outside.

Sooner than later, Miguel’s small chuckles turn into soft groans, his breath becoming labored. His hands venture up under your top, fingers ghosting the skin above the waistband of your skirt. You taste of… cherry lip gloss. His favorite taste, and in the past couple of weeks, he’s grown addicted to it. As a matter of fact, he’s become so addicted that he tends to bite and pull at your bottom lip, a gesture that never failed to leave you weak in the knees.

The hungry tug of your lip evoked a small whine from your throat, unleashing something in Miguel. Carefully, he laid you on the couch, your bodies entangling in languid unison with your tongues. The feeling of all of Miguel’s weight on you set a flame off within you, his length pressing along your dampened heat each time he dug his hips. You wanted it, and bad. Needed it like your life depended on it, but your conscious was screaming at the back of your mind, and you couldn’t ignore it.

“M-mig, w-wait.” You manage to breathe out, the heart between your legs unable to agree with the brain in your head. You hated stopping where things were headed, but you had reason.

Miguel’s head shot up from your neck where it was planting hickies on. “Are you okay? You wanna stop?” He’s already sitting up, removing himself from your legs, “Mama, I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked, want me to take you home? If you want to, I can take you-“ Miguel was so worried, he’d rather die than you feel taken advantage of. “Miguel! It’s okay, I’m fine!” You reassure him softly, sitting up as well to keep him seated. “Trust me, I wanted this, too. It’s not you at all. I just…” you grab his hand, thinking of your next words. Your shoulders droop from what you’re about to say. Miguel looks at you with a soft expression, ready to be here for you in any way.

“Look, we both know we shouldn’t even be here, and not just in this office, I mean being together period. And what worries me the most is not even the fact that we could get caught, but the possibility that maybe you’ll…” Miguel motions for eye contact when he sees you retreating to the floor. “Mamita, tell me, please. Dime que quieres. Nothing you say can upset me or change the way I think of you. Nothing.”

“I just don’t want you to think that I’m only in this for the wrong reasons.” Miguel’s brows furrow in confusion. How could he possibly think you’re using him? “Sweetie, why would I…” And it clicked just as fast as he began speaking. Miguel seemed to be going deep into thought. You were scared that maybe you had said something wrong.

“Miguel, please understand that I care about you so so so much, and because I do, I don’t want us to be intimate with each other until the school year is completely over.” You’d thought things through since becoming romantic with Miguel, and the thought that If y’all had sex, there would’ve been the risks of people finding out, you losing your eligibility for a degree that you were three exams away from obtaining, or worse, Miguel losing his job as professor and probably being blacklisted for the rest of his life. A very small part of it was also that you didn’t want your score on his exam to be affected in any which way. If you happen to not do well on the exam, you wanted the grade you deserved. There was simply too many downsides.

He looks back up at you, not a trace of judgment nor anger on his face. “Mama, you don’t have to explain yourself. The ball is in your field. Whatever you want or need, I’m right there with you. Don’t ever feel bad for what you want, okay?” Your lips curl in relief, and you nod slowly. He brings his hand to your face, allowing you to lean into his touch. “And to be honest, I couldn’t agree more. But even after classes end, even then our speed is still up to you. I’m not ready to take things further until you are.”

How lucky am I to have someone like him? I’m not entirely sure who’s up there or who to thank exactly, but oh my goodness, thank you for giving me this perfect man sitting before me.

“You mean it? I mean, you’re not disappointed or anything?” Miguel shakes his head. “Not even for a second.” Filled with joy, and almost knocking him over, you embrace him.

“We could just stay in here and chat. Would you like that?” He speaks softly against your hair. “I would love that.”

<3

Miguel and you lay on the couch (which fits you just fine, but Miguel’s feet were borderline hanging off the end), Miguel the big spoon, and you the little one. Your head lays against the decorative pillow while he props his on his hand.

You nestled against his frame, feeling the steady rise and fall of his tummy against your back. His arm encircled your waist, holding you securely against him as you melted into each other's warmth. "Are you comfortable?" he asked softly, his voice filled with concern. "Mhm, more than comfortable," you replied with a contented sigh."You make a pretty good body heater," you teased. He chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. "Glad I could be of service, Princesa.” He plants a sustained kiss to your temple.

Your gaze falls softly on the wall across from you, your eyes traveling along the diplomas, “Did you always wanted to be a teacher?”

“Well, when I was little, I did. I loved science and there was this one teacher I had… she was the best. Wanted to be just like her. But…” Miguel breathes out. You can feel his stomach tense up against your back, prompting you to turn your head towards him. “Y’know… um… I didn’t always teach.”

Miguel would go on to tell you how the past five years has looked for him. He began with a rather heavy start; a freak accident in his work as a geneticist, a job much more lucrative than a professor. He’d then recount his days as a hero, proceeding to show you his long-retired claws. You listened intently, with an open mind, following along to his story of how he got involved with the multiverse, and what that term entails. He explained how the world was connected to other worlds; a prodigious tree of universes. It was how he lost his daughter. He revealed the tragic story to you finally, after withholding it that first night he told you about her in the school library. He recollected a few more memories that would eventually lead to his decision to hang up his hat as Spider-Man, finding refuge in becoming a science professor; an old dream he had abandoned so many years ago.

“And since then, I’ve been… okay. Better than before, for sure. I’m satisfied here, truly.” You sat there, processing everything he had shared with you. “I know that was a lot, you don’t have to say anything. I’m just glad that I could share this with you.” You nod, trying to think of what to say because silence just wouldn’t suffice, not for you. “I…” you began, your voice low and soft, “But are you happy?”

Miguel is taken aback by the question. Even after everything he’s said…the man just got done telling you he has fangs and red irises and that he traveled across dimensions for a living, and this is your first question? If he’s happy? He told you a story that could possibly have the fbi sent to his door with just one call, but you’re more interested in his wellbeing? He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe you.

Miguel lets out a sharp breath; a chuckle, as his eyes narrow at you. “You’re unreal, you know that?” Your lips reflect his small smile, “What?! I wanna know, after everything… are you happy?” You repeat the question with utmost genuineness in your tone.

With the answer as obvious to him as the formulas he taught in his class, Miguel simply leans in, hand on the back of your head, and kisses you, then pulling back by just an inch, he speaks softly,

“Now that you’re here, I am.”

A/n: I hope y’all enjoyed it <3 Shoutout to @pomakori for sending this photo in, I absolutely loved it and had to include it in this chapter cuz it’s so them coded !!!

(Like ❓❓ this is so them‼️ n u can’t change my mind‼️)

Thank you so much for reading <3 I’m a lil worried about how long it might be, so sorry if I yapped too much on this one 🫶 I just love n care abt him sm, ur honor🥹

Want some more Dadbod!Miguel? Here’s my master list, bae!

Tags<3

@safixiovi @mukeovernetflix @mochikisses @miguels-cock-piercings @miranexx @bunnibitez @deepdiveintothedeephive @faretheeoscar @sillygardeneggperson @librababe99 @sariespi i @little-lovelace @monstersimp @oharasfilipinawife @obi-mom-kenobi @hyjionie @maomaimao @pinkhelados @mochimoqa @princesatracionera @queerponcho @walmaerts @froggygal @yaysposts @koko-1025 @kikaaauu @lauraolar14 @anotherprettyprincess @kaidxra @farrowroyale @pigeonmama @exactlyyoungchaos @fayeofthenightingale @s4dow @safixiovi

@hartsucks @amberbalcom14 @wait2nourh @tatooieve @helen-j-magnus @cl3stevu

@mintssanctuary @ghost-lantern @snails-doodles22 @tinythebunni

[meowmarkie]

graduation — hrj

you and renjun go for a walk after your graduation ceremony from art school, and as always, your boyfriend manages to take your breath away with his kind words.

pairing... renjun × afab!reader

genre... fluff

word count... i have no idea sorry

requested?... no!

a/n just a little something i wrote for funzies after listening to graduation by the dreamies a few times (i got inspired), and i must say that even though its not entirely proof-read, i hope you guys enjoy this piece of random fluff <3

It was finally here, the day they always dreamt of, their graduation. High school was hard enough, and college took an even harder toll for the sensible pair — Renjun and Y/N didn’t quite match with the academic way of life. It's not about how smart they could be, it was just that the strict system present in education suffocated them to the point where panic could be induced.

They’ve been key participants in each other's lives when it came to finally finishing high school or even while in college, supporting each other through thick and thin, one make-up test after the other, one exam week after the other, and so on. One might say Renjun was destined to meet you, because of how much it helped to be by your side, and vice versa.

One day back in 9th grade, you ended up meeting while skipping class on the big grass field located behind the school. Renjun was surprised to see anyone else besides him on his spot, since he thought he was the only one who knew about it. Years later, he thanks the heavens for giving him the opportunity to talk to the most beautiful girl he knew. You.

You were sitting down, knees glued to your chest while hands supported your chin. The sun managed to hit your face perfectly, in an almost ethereal way, lighting up all the soft and breathtaking features present. Your side profile highlighted the beauty was what really drew him in. The chinese boy swears up and down that he could stand there, admiring you just like that, for all eternity.

He still doesn’t know what possessed him to go on over and talk to you, but soon enough, Renjun plopped down next to your side and got to talking. You were also starstruck and incredibly smitten by the boy. It amazed you how the most popular boy among the artsy kids was paying you attention. You couldn't believe someone like him was even talking to you, but then, there he was.

And that day marked the beginning of your love story. The hours of talking went into days, the days into months, and now, months into years. 

Renjun confessed his feelings for you a little over a year ago, which then led to your now relationship.

“I can’t believe we actually did it.” You sound out, reaching for his hand receiving a loving look in return. “Like, we graduated from art school together. I honestly can’t believe it,” Renjun and you were walking down the park in order to digest the food you guys ate. The sun was setting, giving your stroll a beautiful ambience to appreciate from a distance. “We need to search for art galleries that need new employees or-"

“Well, I for one, can! We’re destined to always be together.” He softly interrupted her and his even softer smile made your cheeks gain a bright red tone. He was always so sweet to you, even while interrupting, that it felt like a dream to be able to call him your boyfriend. “And let’s worry about that tomorrow! Let’s focus on celebrating for now."

“How can you be so chill about this?!” You tried to pretend that you weren't totally smitten by him and his antics, which made Renjun look at you with even more endearment. One could say it was a vicious cycle that never seemed to end: you'd get flustered and he’d make you feel even more flustered. “We need to make rent, and also starting looking for a bigger place and-”

Renjun then leaned in, suddenly pulling you by the waist, not paying any mind to the worries you brought up — of course he knew that you definitely needed to discuss those concerns, but right now wasn’t the right time. Your faces were inches away from each other, noses touching and bodies pressed together. Your hands rested on his shoulders, while the grip on your waist by his firm hands never once faltered.

Not being able to contain yourself any longer than a few seconds, you gently press your lips against his, the action making him smile mid kiss. Renjun couldn’t blame your eagerness as he also couldn’t restrain himself, which then led to him deepening the kiss only moments after.

It’s also worth mentioning that Renjun was so eager to have you on his lips that he had a hard time keeping his hands solely on your waist. It’s a shame you were in public, because if you weren’t, he was ready to have you on his lap right then and there, while his soft lips explored the entirety of your body.

“I love you so much, you know that right?!” He said, as soon as you pulled away in need of some oxygen. “I don’t think I could even live without you.”

This was one of the things you loved the most about Renjun, he never hid how he felt about you and even went out of his way just to tell you. It was recomforting to always feel loved and secure in a relationship, especially in a relationship with him.

“And I… I also love you beyond words.” You shyly said, hiding your face on her hands right after out of embarrassment. It's ridiculous how he always managed to get you this shy, especially taking into consideration that you weren't used to saying what and how you felt, and being with Renjun was helping you learn to be more vocal about this.

He could only smile upon hearing her words, since Renjun knew how hard it was for her to say stuff like that. Not a day went by where he didn’t feel proud of her for becoming more and more comfortable in her own skin.

“God, can I just stay by your side forever? Will you allow me to, beautiful?” Thankfully you were still in his arms when the question popped up, or else you'd have face planted into the floor right then and there. Renjun’s firm grip and his sparkly eyes were the only things keeping you grounded and on the moment. “Even if everything changes on this earth, even if the sun freezes up, it’s you I want by my side, Y/N. Even if I lose everything… I can’t lose you.”

His beautifully poetic and devoted words almost made tears start to stream down your face. You didn’t think someone could romantically love you this much until you met Renjun. He widened your horizons and opened your eyes to the beauty of true love.

Nothing could have prepared you to hear those words at the moment, nor to see the look in his eyes or to feel his body pressed upon yours. His ability to know what to say before you even long to hear a confession, never ceases to amaze you.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, Junnie.” You kissed him deeply, once again, in order to express what words couldn’t at the moment. And also, if you tried to talk, you fear that you wouldn't be able to finish speaking without crying your eyes out for a good amount of time. “You’re mine and I’m yours. Forever.” You placed your hand over his heart, and did the same with his hand, gesture sending chills down his spine.

How come two people can have their souls be this deeply intertwined? You guys wouldn’t be able to answer how, but would only be able to say that it could happen and that such connection was real. After spending some more time cuddled up like that in the middle of the park, you guys started walking down the path once again, hearts filled with joy and peace.

You could only think about how lucky you were to have him, and Renjun could only think about that soon, he’d be able to proudly call you his wife.

[lightlycareless]

More high school au with Naoya and y/n pleaseee😩😩🙏🏻🙏🏻 they are so cute and like- uughhhhh ( you don’t have to tho )

Hello anon!

Thank you so much for waiting 🥺❤️❤️ I actually have some snippets here and there of scenarios I want to write for them, however, now that valentine's day is approaching this other idea popped up hehehe, so I might as well take advantage of it.

Also, this is a two part thing. As of now, the second part is scheduled for... you guessed it, the 14th 😂

warnings: none. fluff. a lil bit of heartbreak, but nothing too serious. more to come on the second part.

All I got to say is, this went a completely different direction than I expected. We shall see if it pays off.

Without further a do, happy reading!

taglist: @sureconfused

part 2.

It’s rare when the faculty allows students to take control of anything outside of their studies and training.

But there were occasions they allowed it, especially in those where they’d not only prove they’re much better academically than any other institute, but also humiliate their sister school in their annual exchange event.

Which is exactly what happened last summer, an undisputable victory to remain for the years to come as the worst defeat Kyoto has ever experienced.

Taking this into consideration, the school thought it only deserving for the students to be compensated.

What the Tokyo school ended up choosing as a reward was a trip to one of the popular theme parks in Japan, but to afford such trip without having to choke the higher ups with their expenses, the students began to plan out ways to increase their budget.

Luckily for them, the money hungry Mei Mei knew exactly what to do.

Thus, preparations soon began to plan out, starting with decorations and activities that would not only incentivize students to participate, but willingly spend all their hard-earned money (plus an extra for herself.) for something enjoyable in return—all coinciding with the most awaited time of the year.

We’re talking about White Day, of course.

A date that you were naturally also excited for, simply because it was your first White Day since enrolling in jujutsu high.

You had your own motives to be eager, but your enthusiasm simply kept growing thanks to your classmate’s incessant discussion of the plans they set up with their boyfriends, or the guys they were being “courted” by.

“My boyfriend got reservations at this nice place in downtown! We’re going there as soon as our classes are done.” One would say.

“That’s so sweet! There’s this guy I’ve been talking to for a while now—we haven’t done much but I just know he likes me! I’m just hope he’ll confess his feelings today…” Another adds.

“What about you, Y/N? Set your eyes on anyone yet?”

No.

Maybe…

Oh, who are you lying, of course you did!

But you’re not sure he even noticed your presence; let alone your gift on Valentine’s Day. After all, he’s one of the most popular students in the whole school.

You’re talking about Geto Suguru, of course—what you’d consider to be your first crush, the first man that you’ve ever felt these growing feelings for; and with enough luck, maybe even your first love.

He was just… oh, so dreamy. Good looking, but most of all, charming. It’s a mystery how someone like him got along with Satoru at all! Maybe it was some kind of opposites attract type of situation?

Who knows.

Either way, you won’t deny that getting a chance of becoming Suguru’s special someone was equally wonderful, which you hoped would’ve increased with the chocolate you gave him exactly one month ago.

If fate desired so… then today, you’ll get your answer.

And whether you’ve caught someone else’s eye, as well?

You don’t try to get your hopes too high when it comes to that, since you’ve only been here for a few months—not enough time for anyone to develop feelings and pursue you, you know?

Geto was different though, since you’ve known him way before you even considered entering jujutsu high, due to him being your sister’s and Satoru’s (a childhood friend) classmate.

So yeah, you don’t expect much from anyone else this day, outside of… maybe a card here and there, or some sweets from the people that always bring something for the whole class just so they won’t feel excluded—sensei’s included.

And so, when classes begin, you keep reassuring yourself with the following statement Mei Mei’s Cupid Mail Service (or whatever it’s called, with a charge of course) begins to roll in: You were new, not that well known even with your sibling’s popularity, single, but most importantly, that most of the things sent through that service were for the popular kids—or so Hinata theorized.

A great excuse that would’ve kept your sanity intact…  had no one else gotten anything.

The ones that didn’t voice their plans, that is, the single ones—and even then, those with a partner still managed to get heartfelt confessions from those daring enough.

«It’s just… well, luck! I think… Besides, don’t they always say that people in relationships are more popular than those that are single? I would never do something like that!» It’s what you tell yourself when seeing one of your classmates, who has a boyfriend, get a rose from the same Cupid Mail Service—and as seen from her rection, not from him. «Yeah… that must be it.»

But your anguish would only deepen when the day went on by and the gifts didn’t stop.

By that point, your sister had gotten a bouquet of roses, amongst some boxes of chocolate she didn’t bother to care for, unless they had come from Yuki-senpai.

Your brother was seen with a large teddy bear but given the grin on his face and the direction he was heading; it was clear this was a gift for his girlfriend.

Gojo and Geto getting gifts even on the day they’re not supposed to doesn’t surprise you anymore—in fact, every day seemed like a holiday to them, so you just ignored them.

Nanami was a heartthrob you did not expect to see flourish, since he mostly kept to himself, but there’s always something alluring about the mysterious, cool characters—you more than anyone else would know that.

However, none of these situations were to be the worst ones yet.

Not to discredit the poor guy, you appreciate him as the excellent classmate he is…

But even Ijichi got a gift!! Like, come on!!

Statistically someone must’ve sent you one thing at least! You’re not even asking to be appreciated by your beauty or anything, it could’ve been just because they thought you were funny or something! A great friend!

Yet, it was not meant to be.

And by the end of the school day, reality slowly began to sink into your mind—accepting that perhaps you were not as likeable as you once believed… and unfortunately, that is something that wouldn’t change, not even if you’d been here since the school was founded.

Not desiring to be seen crying your poor heart out when your feelings are finally pushed to the edge once the last bell rings, you decide to head straight back to the dorms after quickly gathering your utensils, curtly bidding everyone farewells and wishes for an enjoyable evening out, and heading out the classroom—just before you could hear any more of their whispers noting how you didn’t get anything.

Thinking that if you hurried enough, you’d be able to get to your room before anyone noticed the tears already sliding down your cheeks—but alas, there’s always someone in the wrong place at the wrong time, and just as you were to turn around the corner and leave the school building, Mei Mei calls you.

“Off to meet someone in your room? How indecent.” she snickers, noting your unusual adrenaline when traveling across the hallways. At least for someone she knew hadn’t gotten anything planned for the day. “Back in my day, we’d try to do it off campus. But if you want, I know a room—"

“That’s not—I’m not in the mood, Mei Mei.” You murmur, not bothering to turn around to face her while doing your best to hide a sniffle. “I have work to do.”

“I’m sure you do, Y/N.” she says, taking a step closer to you.

“If it’s to get me to spend money on your delivery system, I’m not interested.” You frown. “Why don’t you go ask Hinata? I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to spend all her allowance in things for Yuki-senpai…”

“Already done that—And I got to say, Hinata really is one of my best clients when it comes to it. After Satoru, of course.” She snickers—Gojo has become kind of her personal ATM at this point, he just made it too easy! You remain quiet. “Either way, I’m here for something else. Something relating to you, actually.”

Well, if this day wasn’t odd enough already.

“…What do you want?” you cautioned.

“I got a gift for you—from Cupid himself.”

“What?!” you gasp, sharply turning around to verify her words, dropping your books and breath hitching upon seeing the enormous size of the gift she held in her arms, and all that contained:

A basket filled with all kinds of chocolate, local and foreign, alongside an immeasurable number of roses that almost managed to hide the core: a red teddy bear holding a heart of the same color with the words love stitched onto it.

After being deprived of this attention for hours, it almost felt surreal to suddenly obtain all that you wanted—And not to brag, but this also had to be the biggest gift you’ve seen at school that day!

You genuinely didn’t believe your eyes… and yet, there was still more to come.

And all for you.

“—while the rest are to be delivered to your dorm.” Mei Mei says as a group of her… lackeys, (wait, is that her brother?) brought along more and more gifts—from plushies of your favorite characters, your favorite flowers, and jewelry… to the most surprising piece of all:

Boxes of mochi, of your favorite flavor, taro.

Whoever sent these gestures knew you in somewhat of a personal level, thus, you naturally had to ask—

“Who sent them?” you breathe, unable to hide your excitement at that point; could it be…?

“A secret admirer.” Is all that Mei Mei reveals. “Perhaps.”

“Aw, come on! I mean—you have to know, right?? You’re the one in charge of this!”

“I do… but my services don’t go beyond that.” She smiles—hinting wanting more.

But you suppose that for something as sweet as this, to keep the identity of your unknown aficionado would only be fitting. Partially.

“Could you at least give me a hint?”

Mei Mei only laughs, and you get the idea that it was because of your naivety when it comes to her methods.

And it was, in its majority.

But it was also because she couldn’t believe you didn’t know already!

Of course, this was nothing but obvious for someone who has made it as her personal mission to find dirt on just about anyone she can squeeze out a few yen from.

Especially from big targets like him.

But given the way he behaves around you, and the things he did today, just for your attention how come you hadn’t noticed that the heir of the Zen’in, Naoya…

Likes you?

I don't know if other schools do things like that, but mine did. And I used it once. And I never got a reply. YIKES. But I don't blame him though, that letter was wack lmao. I was only 16 😭 please be merciful.

Anyways, I hope you liked this first part :3 Keep an eye for the second one 👀👀👀

Take care, and hope to see you soon!

[thecrystalquill]

A/N: Here ya go, Chapter Eight!!!! As always please remember to read the intros etc. I don’t give permission to republish, copy, or use my work elsewhere.

And please like/reblog! I always appreciate it :)

Masterlist     Series Masterlist     Series Intro     Your First Year Hogwarts Letter

Chapter Eight ~ Academic Chess

The first class of the day, according to her schedule, was Transfiguration; taught by the same professor who first greeted them the night before.

The morning had been a bit strange; where she was used to waking to the sound of seagulls and screaming, she was now awakened by the other girls in her dorm rummaging about to get ready. She’d never had to share a room before, and certainly not with so many people. Her roommates seemed nice… a little strange but who was she to judge? As she’d unpacked her bone collection and trinkets to place on her shelf, they’d unpacked magazines and scented candles, and given her funny looks as she placed her giant new journal on her desk. But so far they had yet to curse her name or scurry away in fear – in fact, they even introduced themselves. Saoirse Speck was the first to greet her, an Irish girl from Cork; she was a little odd herself, with absolutely no filter before she spoke and always seemed to have her head in the clouds. Another was Millicent Bullstrode, she had a round face and always seemed to be frowning just a little. Millicent looked the most nervous out of them to meet her, but shook her hand anyway. The third girl was Bridget Byrne, a pureblood from Windermere, a little rude but still more tolerable than some. They invited her to sit with them for breakfast, (Y/N) could see the reluctance but agreed nonetheless.

Finding their way to Transfiguration could have been easier – there was no map provided for students and there weren’t any signs about the castle – but eventually, after many stops to ask for directions, they made it in time.

The classroom was located on the east lower floor of the castle, just up a flight of stone stairs. It was a magnificent room, (Y/N) thought, every part of the great castle was. Stone arches decorated the walls, great windows curving up to the ceiling let in so much light that no candles even had to be lit, and the rows of wooden desks were all set for them to start. She was terribly excited – not that anyone could tell.

“Good morning, class.” Greeted the professor when everyone was seated. (Y/N) could have sworn she wasn’t there a moment ago. “Welcome to your first lesson of the year. For anyone who may not remember, I am Deputy Headmistress McGonnagal – head of Gryffindor house and your professor. I am glad to see you all on time.” She paused and looked at each face in the room. “Well, most of you. It seems we have a few missing students. But never mind for now.”

The professor moved to stand by her desk, gesturing to the chalkboard she had prepared in advance. “I trust by now that you’ve all had plenty enough time to revise your copies of A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration and are already informed of the contents of its first chapter, if you’ll all please open them up.”

Everyone did as she asked, and Saoirse sucked in a breath. (Y/N) looked to her side to see that her roommate had forgotten her textbook, and on the first day too. She rolled her eyes before placing her own copy between them in a silent signal to share, ignoring the grateful look the girl sent.

“Today we will be learning about the Transfiguration Alphabet, something I expect you all to be fluent in before the end of term...” The professor began her lecture as everyone started to take notes on the scrolls provided. As the chalk began to write on the board various symbols and their meanings, which they had to copy, the room soon fell into concentrated silence, and the next time (Y/N) looked up, there was no sign of the professor but a cat on her desk. But still, she busied herself with her notes:

Monday 2nd September, 1991

Class Rules:

No food or beverages in class

No silly behaviour

Be professional

Pay attention and ask questions

Note: there will be a 10 question quiz after each week.                                                                              

Introduction to Transfiguration

Transfiguration is the most sciantific scientific branch of magic. It is the defined art of changing the form of an object or being into a different form. Forms: Transformation, Conjuration, Vanishing, and Untransformation. It is a very dangerous form of magic and easy to mess up. When you are working with the molecules of an object you are changing its basic princaple principles.

There is a strict and systematic approach to incantations and wand movements. Take care to be precise.

Transfiguration Alphabet:                                                            

A – O

B – θ

C –  

(Y/N)’s notes were cut short as the great wooden door to the classroom burst open. The class turned as two boys in Gryffindor robes scurried in, panting. Ron whispered something to Harry that she couldn’t quite make out, then the cat jumped off the desk and suddenly revealed itself to be their professor. Oh that explains it, thought (Y/N), as if her teacher being a cat explained anything really.

When the boys finally found a desk to share, just behind (Y/N) and Saoirse, they let out a breath and hurried to take notes. (Y/N) turned, despite knowing she shouldn’t, to face them. “Don’t worry too much,” she said, though her face was unreadable her words were clearly meant for comfort, “you’re not that late. I can lend you my notes later if you like.”

The boys shared a glance. “No thanks,” said Ron, his eyes lingering on the Slytherin emblem on her robe, “we’re fine.”

(Y/N) frowned a little, studying their faces for a second, both looked a little unsure, but she turned back to the front of the room and brushed it off.

When everyone arrived and settled into Potions, (Y/N) was surprised to find that their professor was not present. Wasn’t he supposed to greet them on entrance?

Whispers and gossiping travelled about the room; some were about her, most were about Harry. (Y/N) was never truly one for gossip – if someone had something to say they could say it to her face, ask her directly; and she felt the same as they took glances at Harry and he kept his head down, hair covering his scar. Supposedly no one had yet learned their manners.

Suddenly, the doors slammed open and the noise bounced off the stone walls, rattling the glass jars on the shelves, and in came a tall, dark-haired man dressed all in black. Briskly walking between the tables and to his desk at the forefront of the dark room. Anyone would think the classroom floor was his stage. “There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations in this class.” He announced in a drab voice.

Ah, thought (Y/N), he just wanted to make a dramatic entrance.

“As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion making. However, for those select few…” the professor glanced at the rude Malfoy boy from the previous day, “who possess the predisposition-” hang on, does he know that boy? Is he implying he’s already had lessons over the summer? That’s cheating. “-I can teach you to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper... in death.” Very dramatic, should she be taking notes on dramatic flare?

Before she could think about picking up her goose-feather quill, she heard the scratching of someone else’s to her right. Near the edge of the row beside her, Harry sat writing on his parchment, gaining Snape’s attention. “Then again, maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts in possession of abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not… pay attention.” The girl beside Harry gave him a quick nudge, making him look up in time to see the stoic professor make his way to him. “Mr. Potter. Our new… celebrity.” He mocked, which was really not very professional behaviour from a teacher. “Tell me, what would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

The girl beside him eagerly raised her hand, but Harry only shrugged and shrunk back in embarrassment.

The potions master took no notice, only taking the opportunity to humiliate the boy further. “You don’t know? Well, let’s try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would you look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”

Harry gulped and shifted his eyes to the girl beside him. “I don’t know, sir.” He replied. Of course he didn’t, it was only their first day, after all.

“And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?” (Y/N) knew the answer to that one, it was easy, and so did the bushy-haired girl raising her hand, it seemed.

But poor Harry was struggling for an answer. “I don’t know, sir.”

Snape pursed his lips, a couple of students snickered at the humiliation; most just seemed uncomfortable or afraid. “Pity. Clearly fame isn’t everything… is it, Mr. Potter?”

What was his motive in all this silly bullying? (Y/N) couldn’t help but wonder. But the sight of Harry – the first person to chat with her on that train as if they were already friends, as if she were more than just a dark, mysterious rumour – sat there flushed and feeling small and… stupid even, she just couldn’t stand the injustice. Before she could even think twice about her actions, her mouth moved of its own accord. “To be fair to him, professor,” she interjected, drawing all eyes her way, “it is only our first day. We can’t all be expected to know our textbooks by heart.”

The man turned to her, standing tall and menacing with a glare that surely would have made any other student quiver in their seats – but (Y/N) Addams had seen far scarier sights than a greasy, middle-aged man who bullied children, and she was far braver than she looked. A family proverb echoed in her mind, one that had been drummed into her and her siblings for years: A sharp mind makes you the most dangerous in the room, a sharp knife makes you the most deadly.

An Addams speaks their mind. Always. And right now, her mind was saying that Professor Snape would be a worthy enemy if he wished it. She also had the potential to be one of his best students, if he allowed it. If Snape had a problem with that… well, hence the second part of the proverb.

“Miss Addams…” Snape drawled, taking slow steps towards her, as if he fancied himself a predator stalking prey. But an Addams was never prey. “I should have known you’d be trouble. If you’re so keen to interrupt Mr. Potter’s questioning, you’ll be more than capable of answering for him.”

He was challenging her, obviously, but even if she got some answers wrong, it wouldn’t stop her from accepting. She held her head high and met his stare with a seemingly innocent one of her own. “I might.”

Snape seemed all the more irritated. “Monkshood and wolfsbane--”

“Are the same plant, also known as aconite.” (Y/N) answered immediately, it was easy – she grew it herself in the family’s poison garden. “Named because it used to be made into a paste and dipped on arrowheads for wolf hunting, since its highly poisonous. Would you like me to tell you about some murder cases involving it?” Some of her favourite murders involved poisons, it would take her all day to recite them all.

Academic battles were much like chess, and (Y/N) just made her first move.

The professor gritted his teeth. “A bezoar can be found where?”

(Y/N) thought for a moment, knowing for sure it was in her copy of Magical Drafts and Potions. “I believe it can be found in the stomach of a goat, sir.”

The flash of both anger and impression on the professor’s face made this all the more fun. “And what, Miss Addams, would you get by combining powdered root of asphodel with an infusion of wormwood?”

(Y/N) didn’t know the exact answer, but she knew enough to show him up a little. “I don’t know, sir.” She said, waiting for the look of self-satisfaction to cross his face, and when it did, she interrupted any jab he wanted to throw. “But given that asphodel is part of the lily family and therefore poisonous, I’m going to assume it makes some sort of poison – which I wouldn’t know the name of because we aren’t meant to study those until later in our curriculum.”

She was correct, of course, which irritated him all the more. And lucky for her, Snape was head of Slytherin House; he wouldn’t take points away from her for being correct in his class, would he? “You are lucky, Miss Addams, that I am willing to overlook your cheek. The next time you have something to say... you will raise your hand.” He sneered, turning with a swish of his robes and returning to his desk, eyeing the class. “Well? Why aren’t you copying this down?”

Check-mate.  

Lunch wasn’t much unlike dinner the night before; just as excitable, just as loud. The only difference being that (Y/N) was no longer sat alone. Though she now had company, she still felt a separation from the students around her. As Rumi once said: “even surrounded by people, like water and oil, he remains apart”. That was how she felt at Hogwarts; not quite fitting in, away from home and her norms. She couldn’t wait for the end of term and it was only her first day.

Moments later, a commotion began within the Great Hall. “The mail’s here!” She heard from across the room, seeing a few students stand as a great swarm of owls flew into the room… or in all technicality, a parliament of them.

Various parcels, letters, and papers were being dropped all around onto the tables, owls landing near their owners to accept treats or steal pieces of their dinners. “Are you expecting anything, (Y/N)?” Saoirse asked from beside her, opening up a letter and feeding her barn owl a piece of chicken. Was that cannibalism? Maybe…

“Well I’m sure my family have sent something--” She was interrupted by startled shrieks around her, all looking up to see another bird enter the Hall. It was easily twice the size of many of the owls swooping out of its way, a wingspan that sent a woosh of air as it passed, and in its long talons was a parcel with a letter attached. It dropped it in her lap before landing on the table with a graceful flap of its brown wings, head hung low to greet her. “Mortis.” She greeted, tearing up a piece of pork in exchange for its delivery.

“I-is that a vulture?” Bridget cried, eyes wide with fear as the bird in question began to tear apart a full roast chicken.

“Yes.” (Y/N) simply answered, ignoring the stares and chattering as she opened up her parcel. A small box wrapped in brown paper and black string, sealed on the top with the black wax of the family crest; inside was a black quill, a pot of red ink, some more parchment paper, a silver letter-opener sharp enough to perform an autopsy, and a box of matches. She just couldn’t wait to light something with them. The letter was in a charcoal grey envelope, the seal was a rich black, and the crest had been coloured in white – doubtlessly Wednesday’s touch, almost perfect. Taking out the new letter-opener, handle shaped like a dragon’s neck, its fierce head roaring at the end, she swiftly cut open the envelope and took out its contents. She knew from the second she opened the letter that Wednesday had written it; her father would have been writing every word that came into his unorganised mind, and her mother’s nails were far too pristine to stain.

Dear (Y/N),

We hope that your first days at Hogwarts have been interesting thus far. Father wishes to know which house you have been sorted into, obviously (you should know that there is a bet in place, and I sincerely hope you haven’t lost me my pocket money). Mother asks if you have made any friends or enemies yet. I, personally, should hope that you prioritise the latter.

You did pack a camera, didn’t you? We want to see what everything looks like. If not, please inform us in your reply and we will send one over. Mother and Father also want to know if you would like Thing to accompany you while you settle in.

We are very interested to know about your classes and professors, will you be learning how to turn anyone into toads soon? Pugsley has already broken our new guillotine and I think spending a few days as an amphibian would be a worthy punishment. But for now I have tied him up and put him in his closet with his mouth taped shut.

Pugsley and Father are going fishing tomorrow – they feel that they are in need of a distraction while they get used to your absence. I, however, hope you stay there as long as possible. In fact, next time you should take Pugsley with you and it might finally be quieter around here.

Grandmama wants to remind you to practice your knife throwing, as it would be “unbecoming” of you to be a sloppy thrower by the time you return.

We expect your reply to arrive soon. Make sure Mortis is well-fed before you send him back, or he might eat one of the carrier owls he is let loose near. Wouldn’t that be funny?

Awaiting your reply,

Your family.

She couldn’t wait to write back.

Thank you for reading. Like and reblog for support.

Do you want to be tagged?

Tag list:

@boyaddams

@too-attached-to-fiction

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@lady-of-lies

@twsssmlmaa

@asadbisexual1

@sugakookiemonster

@theyaremorethanjustfictional

@curlszx88

@cocopuffs1450

@siriuslysirius1107

@miiikkeey

@purpleflamebluesparkles

@qisunny

@clxwnkid

@milfho

@lilqi

@zavijanje-na-mesecini

@steves-sweetheart-blog

@fanlovedlt

@brthofafish

@evilunicorns4minions

@rottenstyx

@dweeb-central

@leafanonsforest

@hellion-writes

@rory-cakes

@monstruositylad

@ladyslytherin

@mima795

@mikariell95

@witch-of-all-things-soft

@sugarrush-blush

@undeniablyyou

@kiraisastay

@danyzta

@lovelyy-moonlight

@menkisser69420

@soggumm

@i-need-anything-holy

@i-bitch-you-bitch

@ayeayiee

@ssaelles

Please let me know if you’ve been miss-tagged or if your tag is different.

And pleease like my other chapters 🩷they take me weeks to write

[rosanna-writer]

now i've read all of the books beside your bed

Summary: A Gwynlain drabble inspired by “source?” divine intuition, gut instinct, and cryptic symbolism from my dreams" Warnings: none Rating: T Word Count: ~600 Read on AO3

"Sweetheart," Gwyn said, trying and failing to sound patient, "how many times are we going to talk about this?"

Elain looked up from her novel, all doe-eyed innocence. "Talk about what?"

Gwyn never fell for that—from their first meeting, it had been abundantly clear to her that Elain Archeron wasn't nearly as sweet and naive as everyone assumed her to be.

It was one of the many reasons Elain had married her.

One of the other reasons had been Gwyn's enthusiastic support of Elain's efforts to create comprehensive taxonomies of the Night Court's native flora. It had been more than just words of encouragement—Gwyn had volunteered to fetch books, organize notes, and check facts.

That had been years ago, but Gwyn still proofread Elain's work. These days, she did it from the comfort of her desk in their home library, often with Elain curled up in the nearby armchair like she was now.

It had become a comfortable routine, which is why Gwyn merely narrowed her eyes at Elain and said, "Your citations."

"Did I get the numbering wrong again? I—"

"Elain. You can't cite prophetic visions in an academic treatise."

"You can if you're a seer," Elain said mildly, as if that settled it.

Gwyn set her pen down, rubbing her temples. "They can't really be independently verified, and scholarly work needs to be reproducible."

"There's not much point to seeing the future if I don't share what I know, now is there?"

"You should write something more than just a footnote that says 'This was once revealed to me in a dream.'"

They'd gone back and forth on this for years—it would be remiss to exclude relevant information Elain had gleaned from a vision, but in the bibliography, it couldn't quite be categorized as a firsthand account or an interview. Gwyn had asked the scholars in the library for advice, but seers were so rare that no one had ever given the issue much thought.

The argument could go on for hours if they let it, and Elain had no intention of ruining their evening. She closed her book and stood, crossing the room and wrapping her arms around Gwyn's shoulders.

"I appreciate your attention to detail all the same."

Gwyn smiled—even with her, Elain couldn't quite manage to stop being a bit prim and diplomatic. The sound of it was just as familiar as Elain's jasmine-and-honey scent. "I appreciate you all the same."

Elain pressed a kiss to Gwyn's cheek. "Appreciate you more."

Gwyn couldn't ignore a challenge like that. With all the strength and grace of a Valkyrie, she turned and slid both hands under Elain, lifting her wife as she rose to her feet. Elain let out a surprised laugh and locked her legs around Gwyn's waist.

"Do you have a source for that claim?" Gwyn said. It must have gotten on Elain's nerves just the way she'd hoped it would—Elain leaned down and kissed her, immediately parting Gwyn's lips with her tongue. Gwyn carried her without breaking the kiss, taking a few steps forward until Elain's back was pressed against the bookshelf.

Gwyn might have been the one who had Elain pinned, but Elain's hand drifted to her hair, fingers tangling in the strands to keep her right where Elain wanted her. Not that Gwyn wanted to be anywhere else—she'd stay there forever if she could, with Elain's mouth on hers and her hands splayed on Elain's ass.

Neither one of them was sure exactly how much time had passed when they finally broke apart, flushed and breathing a bit harder. But as intoxicating as Elain was, Gwyn was still lucid enough to remember that she'd never gotten an answer to her question. "Do you?" she said, pushing for a response. "Extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, Elain."

Elain let her head tip forward until their foreheads were touching. "Take me to the bedroom and allow me to demonstrate my appreciation, then."

The rest of the proofreading could wait until morning.

[avianyuh]

Hi! Can you please do BTS members headcanons where their SO who used to be academically gifted, suddenly starts flunking exams because of the work load which they can't cut down and is now afraid of giving exams? (was that highly specific? well.... I really shouldn't hassle you with so many academia based requests but tis the season of exams so

as always, thank you so much for doing these reactions! Tata!)

BTS helping their overworked partner during exam season.

{A/N; Hello Anon, you sent this in a week or two ago, I hope you're not feeling as overwhelmed. I also have had a lot of work for school lately that's been time consuming (luckily Tumblr lets you do scheduled posts lol) Hope you enjoy this! And to anyone reading this, I hope your exams or whatever you have going on in your life gets better soon!}

*No gifs sorrrrrrry*

Prompt-

*Reader is dating a member of BTS, and the reader had always been a really academically gifted person. Aced every exam, on top of things all of the time. But things have recently gotten too overwhelmingly and reader starts to slip in grades and studies. This is how each member would comfort their S/O*

Jin:

Jin would be very concerned about you, as he always thought of you as someone who had it all together. But one night after multiple attempts to get you to leave your desk and come sit and watch TV with him, you broke down in tears.

"I can't do it Jin, it's all too much. I can't remember everything. It's exams on everything from the semester for five different classes. How am I supposed to memorize everything?", you exclaimed, letting your head fall into your hands as you slouched forward from your seat on the couch. Jin had his arm around you, at a loss for words. He had wished you would have said something earlier. He suspected that something had been up, but like already explained, he thought you were on top of things.

"Y/n, I wish you would have told me sooner. I could've helped you.", he paused, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked into your tired eyes. "I'll help you, I'll make sure you don't overwhelm yourself okay?"

You looked up at him, sniffling and whispering a soft 'thank you'

Yoongi:

You had been avoiding Yoongi all week. The last time you had spoken to him, you explained that you had exams coming up, so he assumed you were busy with that.

But since the last day or so, you hadn't responded to any of his text messages, Yoongi got a little worried and decided to come visit your apartment.

He went to your favorite takeout place, order your favorite meal and had envisioned a night of food and watching a few movies. He thought you could use a break, and seeing you would give him some peace of mind.

So as he unlocked your apartment door with the key you had given him and stepped inside, he was surprised to see that it was completely dark inside.

He set down the bag of food on the counter and called out for you as he started to walk down the hallway toward your bedroom.

"Y/n, are you home?", he called out.

He came upon your bedroom door, that was closed. He thought that was odd. So he knocked twice before opening and stepped inside.

There he could make out your silhouette in that dark. He could hear little sniffles.

"Y/n, what's wrong?", he asked, spquinting in the dark, he waved his hands around, trying to feel for a lamp to turn on the lights.

When he did, teh first thing his eyes saw was you under the covers. Your eyes were red and puffy and textbooks were scattered on the bottom of your bed.

"Y/n, what happened? Why didn't you call me?", Yoongi asked, concern evident in his voice.

"I didn't call you because I'm embarrassed. I failed my first three exams. All of that work for nothing...", you said, sinking deeper into the comforter. "So what you failed? You'll do better next time. It doesn't take away from all of the hard work you've already done.", Yoongi explained as he tried to pull the covers away from your face so he could see you.

"No, you don't have to lie to me Yoongi", you responded, to embarrassed to face him.

"I'm not lying to you. I can't believe you got me so worried over something as dumb as a psychology exam. What's the big deal, we all have a conscience...", he joked. You couldn't help but let out a little giggle. "Ah, I made you laugh, you should've called me, I would've been of help."

Hoseok:

Hoseok was very good at reading you and noticed early on that you hated leaving to go to campus. He had also noticed that you hated looking at any of your work.

You had mentioned to him one night that you were feeling overwhelmed and that you had failed your latest final exam. You mentioned it in a nonchalant way, but Hoseok knew that it bothered you.

He had tried a few things to make you feel better. First, buying you your favorite snack on his way home from a dance practice one night. You seemed appreciative, but still like your mind was somewhere else. Next he tried taking you to a shopping district one weekend, to try and get you away from your work, but still, you seemed sad.

So finally, Hoseok just decided to ask you upfront; "Is everything okay at school?", he asked, looking up at you one night as you washed the dishes with him. He was on drying duty.

You sighed and turned the water off before looking over at him, "I can't seem to get a good grade on any of my exams. My grades are slipping and my concentration is just...nonexistent. I don't know what's happening with me", you explained as your eyes started to well up with tears.

Hoseok pulled you into a hug and kissed your forehead. "we'll figure this out", he whispered. He hated seeing you so upset.

Namjoon:

Namjoon loved helping you with your studies. He also loved learning new things from you. So when he asked about joining in on your next study session and was told that there wouldn't be one, he couldn;t help but feel a bit shocked.

"Why not? Don't you have exams coming up?", Namjoon asked, a little concerned in the change in behavior.

"Joon, I really don't want to talk about it", and just like that, the subject was dropped. Or so you thought.

The next day when you stepped out to get a coffee with a friend, Namjoon was left home alone and started sleuthing.

He first looked at you desk and found nothing, so he moved on to your school bag. He opened up you organizer and there it was.

Your English exam and a big fat F.

That's why she doesn't want to study, Namjoon thought to himself.

So when you got home from your coffee date, you were immediately confronted by Namjoon.

There he was, right in front of the door, holding the paper that had made you lose all of your confidence.

"Namjoon, how dare you go through my stuff!", you yelled, trying to grab the paper from him. But he was too fast for you and held it over your head.

"No, how dare YOU not tell me, I could've helped you", Namjoon said, sounding a little hurt. "What, did you think I was going to make fun of you or something?", he asked.

"No, but no one wants to admit that they've failed", you said, looking down at your shoes.

"You didn't fail, you had a slip up. You've been working yourself too hard. Let me help you.", Namjoon said, pulling you into a warm hug.

Jimin:

Jimin had become concerned when you started to find excuses to get out of seeing him.

He loved spending time with you, bit he noticed that you had been acting very weird lately.

he knew it was exam season for you, and respected your need for space, but when he had spontaneously dropped in on you and noticed the bags under your eyes, he became worried.

"Y/n...are you sure you're okay?", Jimin asked you.

"Yes, I have to go Jimin, thanks for stopping by", you said as you tried to escort him towards the front door.

"What's really going on Y/n? You've been acting weird for the past few weeks and you're making me feel worried about you. I want to help you", Jimin said.

You stared at him for a few seconds, debating on if you should just come clean. In the end he won.

You led him over to the couch and immediately fell into his embrace. "It's all a mess Jimin. I'm failing my exams. I can't study, my focus is gone."

Jimin frowned, he hated seeing you so upset.

'Y/n, I think you need a break, let's go out and eat", he said, pulling you up and hoping to get your mind off of things.

Taehyung:

Like Yoongi and Jimin, Taehyng would want to give you your space at first, but would catch on pretty fast.

He had visited your apartment and had noticed that all of your textbooks looked like they hadn't even been cracked open yet.

So, he confronted you pretty fast, but not in a accusatory way. He brought it up as an observation.

"Your textbooks look like they haven't been opened at all...", he said offhandedly as he sat on the couch with you.

"Oh, you know, they're...uh...pretty new", you said. Taehyung could detect some hints of nervousness in your voice and he couldn;t help but wonder about what you weren't telling him. So Taehyung started to pry for answers.

"Is school okay?", Taehyung asked.

"Ugh, okay fine, no, no it's not", easier than he thought this would be, he thought to himself.

"Why didn't you tell me?", he asked.

"Because, you have your own problems and I didn't want to burden you."

"You could never burden me. I'm always here for you."

Jungkook:

Jungkook would be the slowest to realize that anything is wrong.

He would just assume that everything was okay because you never really mentioned school.

But one day over the phone, when he finally did ask about your finals, specifically when your last one was, you broke down in tears.

Now this was really confusing to him, because he thought he said something wrong.

It wasn't until you had explained to him that you actually had to retake a few because you failed them that he finally understood why you were crying.

"It's okay, I know you had been struggling with that class", he tried to console you.

"No, no it's not okay. I worked so hard, and for what, a sympathy grade?", you continued to cry.

"That's it, I'm coming over", Jungkook said, knowing that he needed to be with you in person.

[ijustreadthisbook]

Top Five Books I've Read (so far) In 2023:

5. Cloud Cuckoo Land by Anthony Doerr (Audiobook): One of the more unique novels I've read in a while, this book bounces around in time and place slowly weaving each dispirate story together around the fictitious ancient greek story of Cloud Cuckoo Land. Each character is so well created, and the slow thrill of putting the pieces together was so satisfying. The ending made me stare at the wall for a few moments before I could come back to earth.

Read if you like: Ted Chiang short stories, The Birds by Aristophanes, Margaret Atwood sci-fi

4. Truth of the Divine by Lindsay Ellis (Physical book): The sequel to her debut novel, Axiom's End, this book takes the monster fucking story to a whole new level exploring the concepts of attraction, loyalty, love, and humanity. The world building is incredible, the main character doesn't have that awful trait that a lot of sci-fi audience inserts have where they cannot possibly make logical connections and answer questions themselves. Cora is smart, and Ellis assumes you are smart too. Plus the recreation of 2007 era America is fucking perfect.

Read if you like: Early 2000's nostalgia, Jeff VanderMeer books, Axiom's End, 90s alien movies like Contact, Independence Day, Aliens

3. The Roughest Draft by Emily Wibberley and Austin Siegmund-Broka (Physical book): I've read a bunch of romance this year, and this was one of my absolute favorites. Certainly not the spiciest I've read, but the interplay between the two points of view creates a romantic, sexual, and professional tension that is so palpable and delicious. I loved the meta narrative of two people writing a book together about two people writing a book together, and the exploration of what making art together means and the intimacy required to do it. It's a little predictable, but that's what you want from a romance novel. This was a fun book with just enough stakes and just enough stress to make the payoff so worth it.

Read if you like: Emily Henry books, movies like You've Got Mail, Something's Gotta Give, Always Be My Maybe

2. The It Girl by Ruth Ware (audiobook): I love Ruth ware. I love her. I have read everything she has written so far and will read anything she puts out. I selected this one for my list because I love the setting of a close knit school campus, a shining bright young woman with a dark secret, and the real time unravelling of a murder mystery through the eyes of someone on the ground. This book explores the idea of how little we can know about the people we are closest to, and how easy it is to blind ourselves to the truth because of what we want to be true. It's a captivating read, easily finished in a day or two.

Read if you like: One by One by Ruth Ware, Gossip Girl, Jennifer's Body

1. The Secret History by Donna Tart (physical book): I cannot believe how long it took me to read this book. It was one of those books that kept getting recommended to me, but I was worried it was over hyped and would be awful. I tried to read it about two years ago and couldn't even get through the first chapter. And yet, somehow, I picked this book up and did not put it down for a week and a half. It's incredible. An absolute masterclass on Dark Academia, tension building, atmospheric storytelling, all the things I love the most about literature with all the modern trappings of an aesthetic I have also come to love. Rich kids in a private school testing the boundaries of privilege through the POV of an outsider desperate to be accepted is one of my favorite tropes and this book is the definition of how to do it right. It's dark, its academic, it's murdery, it's the 90s, it's excellent. I'll be reading this one again.

Read if you like: A Separate Peace, Brideshead Revisited, Gentlemen and Players, The Talented Mr Ripley

[danisbrainrot]

capitol!academy!reader (shes 18 and is a coryo friend) teaching gf!tigris to read and write because she never had the opportunity due to having to take care of coriolanus and grandmother

tigris snow x reader

also, she and coriolanus aren't really friends, it's more of a symbiotic relationship. i hope you don't mind.

you were desperately poor. your family had been this way ever since the war. crassus snow had persuaded your father to invest everything in district 13, that when it was bombed to nothing, your whole life collapsed before your eyes. now, your family had to take up any and all kinds of jobs to make a little money.

you had always been incredibly smart. in fact, you and coriolanus were often academic rivals, trying to out score each other in exams and essays. it made sense that you'd be able to help tutor the dumber—but much richer—students at the academy in the grades below.

one day, coriolanus was walking past you explaining the themes of an old fictional book from before the war that surprisingly stuck on the curriculum—something about mice and men.

you started packing up, collecting payment from the younger student, before you locked eyes with coriolanus. you stood in shock—no one in the grade was supposed to know that you were poor. he swiftly approached you, promising not to rat you out if you helped his cousin. you asked why he couldn't do it himself, but he evaded the question. you sighed, but agreed—you couldn't just say no. what if he told everyone about your family's. . . situation?

that's how you found yourself outside his apartment, standing on the pavement of the corso, gripping onto your book bag tightly. you knew they lived on the penthouse, which meant climbing several hundred stairs; you discovered the elevator was broken upon entry. groaning, you began the long climb to the top, wondering how coriolanus did this everyday.

you pounded on the door, catching your breath once you finally reached the top. tigris eagerly opened the door, pulling you in for a tight hug and thanking you profusely for coming.

the first thing you noticed was how barren the grand apartment was. there were only a few necessary pieces of furniture, paint was peeling off the wall and the carpet looked like half of it was ripped up years ago. you realised that the snow's were as poor as you were.

"coryo's at sejanus' house right now, and my grandma'am is asleep so it's just us right now, I hope you're okay with that," she explains, leading you to her room and where her desk was. it was significantly smaller than all the other rooms she'd seen throughout the apartment, half of it still damaged from the war. she sat on her bed, gesturing for you to sit at the desk.

"that's fine. coriolanus told me you were struggling with your reading and writing?" you ask, taking your book bag off and setting your stationary on the desk.

she bit her lip sheepishly, looking at the ground and nodding. "besides the basics and a few things he's taught me, I'm almost illiterate. I had to drop out of the academy to get a full time job, but even then I was terrible at literature," she replies, rubbing her arm up and down.

you freeze, looking at her for a moment too long before shaking her head, "well, I guess that just means we'll be spending a lot of time together," you state, sitting down next to her. you didn't really know where to start, considering all the other people you tutored were usually at a 10th grade reading level, but you quickly found out that tigris wasn't being modest; almost illiterate was an accurate claim.

pulling out an old literature skills book, you place a pen down in front of her and open it to the twentieth page. "do all the activities you can," you say, beckoning her over and standing up. she filled in a few blank spaces, corrected one spelling mistake and bit her lip, before finally placing the pen down. you sigh, knowing that there was a lot of work that would need to be done.

over the next week, tigris' literacy gradually improved. you meticulously poured over past notes you'd taken, encouraging her to learn however she felt comfortable. you stuck to a slow, but effective pace.

you had found out that the reason coriolanus refused to teach tigris was because his temper was far too short and he valued her too much. this didn't completely surprise you—remembering the countless group projects where he'd snap at arachne or festus when they couldn't understand something.

when tigris could finally complete ten pages all by herself, you deemed it a cause of celebration and bought a small cake. it had cost you the same as one tutoring lesson, but it was all worth it when you presented it to her. her eyes nearly bulged out of her head; she subconsciously kissed you on the cheek.

she blushes once she realised what she did, before taking a bite out of the cake and closed her eyes in bliss. "I can't believe you bought me a cake for something so simple," she mumbles, avoiding your gaze.

you snorted, shaking your head in disbelief, "are you kidding me? it's a huge improvement. besides, it's nothing," you lie. your family really needed the money, but the way tigris' face lit up, you couldn't help but know you made the right choice.

"what are you going to do if I finish the whole book?" she asks teasingly, taking another bite of the cake before offering it to you.

you refuse it, before thinking about her question for a minute. "hmm, I think I'd have to kiss you," you joke, winking at her.

the blood rushed to her cheeks, as she turned a dark shade of scarlet. she had grown to really like you over the past week, forming a slight crush on you—the suggestion didn't sound like a bad idea to her. but she knew you were joking, by the way you started laughing straight afterwards.

when you left that evening, she made it her mission to complete the 150 page activity book before your next tutor session. you had a group assignment you had to do with lysistrata so it wouldn't be for another week, giving tigris ample time to get it done.

one day at the academy, you were in the library studying with lyssie and hilarius when coriolanus pulls you aside. he thanks you in private for helping his cousin, and mentions how she was so inspired that she'd managed to finish the entire book. your eyes widen, shock evident on your face for two reasons. one, the book was long and the many pages were extremely difficult. two, did that mean tigris really wanted that kiss?

you and coriolanus walk to his apartment that very afternoon. as he opened the door, tigris ran into the room, flapping the book in your face excitedly. you laugh at her enthusiasm, pulling her into a hug and congratulating her. she grabs your hand, leading you to her room and out of coriolanus's view.

"I guess this means I'm getting that kiss, huh?" she asked shyly. you could tell it was meant to come out teasingly, but tigris was genuinely flustered.

you smiled softly at her, leaning and caressing her cheek with your thumb. "you're smarter than you give yourself credit for," you praise, watching as tigris' cheeks turn pinker. finally, you delicately press your lips against hers and pull her in closer to you.

she sighs into the kiss, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and smiling at the soft way your lips felt. she wanted to stay in this blissful moment forever; you felt similarly.

once you pull away, she pouts momentarily—missing the way your lips felt on hers. "you know, I have another exercise book at home. I could get it for you, and then once you finish that I could kiss you like that again," you tease.

she shook her head, "I think I wanna kiss you like that all the time. not as a reward," she replies, pressing her forehead against yours. you couldn't help but agree, leaning in to kiss her again.

[thatstonedwriter]

heyyy! I saw your shipping requests are open, so I decided to send one 😂 I'm fine with any character from The Boys🙏

I'm a bi korean woman with dark hair and black eyes. My first language is Russian. I work in a clinic, so I think my style is classic. I have a lot of tattoos and nose and lip piercings. I did them when I was a teenager. my tattoos are both beautiful and meaningful, I have a tattoo for the asoiaf universe, another tattoo with my favorite planet, etc.

I finished university a few years ago, and I have a degree in clinical psychology. In my country it took me more than 6 years but I was very happy. When I was a teenager, I wanted to become a clinical psychologist or therapist or psychiatrist. I was very interested in the human mind. My favorite book at that time was Crime and Punishment 😂

I read a lot of books, mostly classic and modern prose, I have a tiktok account in russian where I'm talking about my favorite books and authors (mainly Navokov and Dostoevsky). I haven't posted much lately since I'm pretty busy with other stuff.

In my free time I'm an artist, I have a blog where I post (mainly asoiaf) art. I did my first art in March when I had a lot of free time, and I wanted to draw my favorite characters. I made a great progress + already taking commissions. I love drawing, it just helps me relax (I usually listen to audio books when I draw)

I'm not very social person, I love my friends and my family, but I just don't like to be around people a lot. I live alone for almost 10 years and i love it. I wanted to get a cat a few years ago, but I decided not to. I don't know if I'm responsible enough for this.

When I was in school or uni, I always spent a lot of time studying. In school I did it cause I wanted to be better than people in my class and in uni I did it cause I loved studying. When I was a teenager I wrote a lot of poems and even won in a competition, I still write poems, but not that much and I don't show it to people anymore.

I hope that is enough info 😂😂 If I made any mistakes, I'm sorry, I still have troubles with Eng. Thank you sm♥️♥️♥️

A/n- Hello hello, and thank you so much for requesting! Your taste in art and books is so sophisticated omg. I also used to write poetry! I used to read my poems at Open Mic nights at my high school, and it was a lot of fun : ) your tattoos sound dope, too. One of your fave planet?! Please tell me which one. I think mine is Jupiter ☺️

Hope you enjoy!

I ship you with...

M.M!

Marvin really appreciates your calmer, methodical nature. Often times when the group is together, you're off with an earbud in one ear as you draw in a small space, secluded from the main area. Of course, it’s appreciated until MM needs your attention for a group meeting and you’re off in your own world. Usually he sighs, moves on, and resigns himself to explaining everything to you later- not that he minds such a softie

Your intellectualism and the way you strive for academic and personal success really sets you apart in Marvin’s eyes. Every day, he’s impressed and inspired by the dedication and care you put into all your projects- academic or otherwise.

Being less social isn’t something that Marvin takes an issue with in fact, I think he’d prefer someone more lowkey to balance out all the chaos already present in his life. I could see you two spending time reading/listening to audio books together. When you’re tired (it’s mostly just because he wants to), MM will bring you snacks so you can lay down and relax while he reads to you

MM needs a lot of help with managing his stress and OCD. It’s not the only thing that helps, but the perspectives and knowledge you’ve gained while studying psychology could potentially help with identifying coping mechanisms and ways of communication that help keep MM from breaking out with stress-hives.

Never mind any potential language barriers because MM actually puts in the effort of learning as much Russian as he can. If there are points where you can’t understand each other, Marvin has a translation app open and at the ready.

MM will forever be grateful for your sensitivity and creativity- your fascination with the human mind allows for a deeper understanding and empathy between the two of you. Any art pieces you give to MM are hung up around his designated space in the Boys’ hideout.

[bagellu]

had a burst of inspiration and have been writing this for the last half a day, so have a little read of something stupid.

(The voice in bold, i’d like you to imagine it sounds like Johnny Chiodini of Oxventure doing the skeleton voice and if you don’t know, please look it up on youtube or something bc it’s a great voice)

Many ages ago, in a time almost unthinkable to the modern man, archaeologists aside, magic worked a little differently. This was not to say that it was primitive or vulgar by the standards set by scholars, but things were understood in a manner less academic. It was just known, rather than being written down somewhere.

Of course, it had many a purpose in that time as it does now. Salves and slaying, along with any interest between.

As most societies eventually figure out, a rule of law is devised to deter would-be wizards from practicing arts that people view like curses. Necromancy was almost always viewed with disdain, outside of a few niche moments when having hoards of undead soldiers ready to die once more for their descendant’s homes.

Use of magic to cause malevolent harm was also frowned upon, dire need aside.

But there was one kind that people always projected more harshly onto than any other. Seelemancy, at least how it was known in these parts, went against gods and common sense alike. To touch the soul of another was an unthinkable act; sacred even to those who spurned religious practices. Manipulation and use of another soul was grounds for expulsion from all civilised society, and there was plenty of that to go around. It would make you an outcast among outcasts.

When the practice was developed it rarely bled further than master and apprentice, learnt in secret in the dead of night. That makes for a difficult relationship, as the student is more often than not eager to acquire power, and the master must temper such ambition.

The result, as I am in no doubt you could infer, is the soul of the master trapped inside some bauble to serve as a reminder of how powerful the student has now become.

There are some that broke from this magistricidal tradition, forging a path of discovery that charted untested waters in the field. Syphoning became a subtle tactic to forge the energies into something substantial, taking bit by bit from unsuspecting masses made up for the lack of individual subjects. For a time, this fuelled the intrigue of those who sought more answers.

An even smaller minority, mastering the craft to an unheard of peak, began to caress the very boundaries that held their own souls in their mortal forms. This did not come without accidents. Some were found as puddles of gore in their own laboratories, others as husks resembling deflated bladders.

Knowledge always came with the risk of an immediate and messy death.

Those that succeeded began to experiment with how their souls could be manipulated further, often with one goal in mind.

Immortality.

Some viewed it as an unachievable ideal; theory rather than practical magic. They relented and focused their talents on shaping themselves as they saw fit, gaining aspects that extended their lives without trying, but not indefinitely.

One mage became obsessed with it. He was convinced that it was indeed possible, as surely the souls that drifted off into the afterlife remained as permanent fixtures in the cosmos? With many years of practice, he could shape his soul to whatever was required, but he knew it would not be enough to complete his work.

With the knowledge of another fallen seelemancer, he sought to succeed where they had failed, leaving behind an assortment of chunks.

It was clear that inanimate objects could house the soul, or part of it, given enough space with which to store something that powerful. He heard word of another mage trying something similar some years before him, using gemstones to store the souls stolen from unsuspecting victims and then used at a later date. It was then a measure of finding the best solvent to contain them.

Many years of experimentation followed. Diamonds, despite their allure and price, were a poor container. Too clear as he reasoned, easy for the souls to slip out. Opal was tried and it worked for a time, but the fragility of the stone made it difficult to hold more than minute amounts of a soul, let alone a mortal one in its entirety.

Eventually, and with the unwilling help of many, he settled on an unrefined gem known as Terabite. It was robust but conducted the flow of souls very well. Not to mention, it appeared to have a remarkably large interior, capable of storing multiple souls within stones as small as a fingernail.

He was elated at this discovery. No doubt revealed itself that he was truly the pinnacle of all mages in his time.

He commissioned a band to be worn around the neck, a strap rather than amulet, with the raw crystal adorned upon it. The work could now begin to ease the boundaries of his soul to accommodate the stone and find a way to perpetuate his own life indefinitely.

At first it was like dipping a toe into unknown waters. It was warm, despite his hesitation, but could feel the pull from the stone. It was not unlike that sensation of pulling souls from others, the stream of energy that slipped into his control. With ample effort, he found he could slowly increase the expansion of his own boundary, and he hoped the continued growth would fuel him for many years.

When he stretched the barrier between, widening the opening, a fly chose that precise moment to zip around his head in search of something to do. Once, twice and then thrice it flew close to his ear. He remained as composed as possible, knowing that the spell required his utmost attention.

Then the insect perched itself on his nose.

He reactively waved a hand to budge it from his face and too late realised his mind had irreversibly wandered. The fine control he had evaporated, magic abound in the second that he removed his focus from casting the spell without direction. His soul felt as though forced through a straw; much more malleable than it should ever be and reshaped into a new container.

The trouble came when he attempted to move his arms, but quickly realised that he no longer possessed a corporal form. At least, one that was not a necklace.

Years worth of curses were spewed into the nothingness, unheard by any that would care. A single damnable fly had scuppered decades of finely tuned research.

He had no senses other than the tempest within himself, swirling inside a gem that sat neatly on the leather. No doubt his soul would sustain it, but finding something to possess would now be the most logical step forward.

And so he waited and decided to commit this tale to memory.

Many ages ago, in a time almost unthinkable to the modern man…

***

Mohore brushed her teeth without enthusiasm. The monologue had woken her some hours earlier, as it so often did, and she essentially ignored it as best she could.

Brushing her dark hair behind pointed ears, she gazed at her face in the mirror. The bags beneath her eyes were dark and heavy as usual, but no other concerning marks grabbed her attention.

The necklace, a leather strap that sat firmly against her neck, remained as it always did. It was such a pretty gem, which was part of the reason she had chosen to wear it in the first place. Oh to be so unbothered once again.

She perched herself onto her armchair. There was the scroller for this morning, but it did not feel the right moment for the news. Perhaps she would continue with the book she had been reading before going to bed. It was a novel with considerable attention to romance, which helped keep the noise inside her head to a minimum.

We reading this again?

“We’re continuing with it,” Mohore answered.

You sure it not too dull?

She shushed the protest. “You love it. Penelope is so secretive and witty, how could you resist?”

The voice remained silent for a moment in thought. Okay. But we not going too fast. Take time with it.

“Of course.”

For a while she sat, slowly reading the words on the pages. It was not her favourite genre, but it sufficed for the little routine she had devised.

At Penelope’s smart remarks a throaty chuckle echoed in Mohore’s head.

It was an hour or so before she was disturbed from this relaxation.

Fly.

She rolled her eyes, ignoring it for the moment. About to turn the page, she was halted by the word once again.

Fly.

“We’re reading, remember?”

Hmm. No, I missed words. Sort fly.

“Can’t we just pretend it’s not there?” Mohore pleaded.

Fly.

She groaned expertly and placed the book back on the side table. “Where is it?”

Kitchen.

Rising from the chair, she went quickly to the kitchen and pulled one of the many swatters from a hook. She held her breath for a moment, trying to hear the damnable thing.

There. Ceiling.

Mohore craned her neck and looked up to find a single bee, trotting around one of the many flowers painted onto the ceiling.

“That’s not a fly,” she explained. “It’s got stripes and is too big.”

Fly.

“No.”

Kill.

She set down the swatter on the counter and reached for a cup from the cupboard. “We’re going to help it out the window, not kill it.”

The voice grumbled once more. Why not just squish? Done quicker.

“Because it’s not a fly.”

I heard fly.

“Maybe you were wrong?” She scooped the bee carefully, using a nearby coaster to trap it before releasing it through the open window. “There, see? Easy and less mess.”

As she turned and intended to return to the comfort of the armchair, a black dot buzzed past her face and made for the pantry.

See, fly.

Mohore grumbled in her own, guttural manner. She grasped the swatter once more and swung at the fly.

As though it had predicted the attack, the fly hovered to the left and continued on its way, unscathed and unbothered by the attempt on its life.

Fly.

The swatter whipped the air once more, but failed to find the minuscule mark.

Fly.

Consecutive slaps echoed around the room, wooden cabinets like firm drums in a percussive melody. None struck the target.

Fly.

Mohore steadied herself and eased her breathing, letting the bug settle on a handle.

Fly.

“I can see it!” she exclaimed. “You try hitting it for once!”

She could feel the bulge of magical energy attempt to move her, but to no avail.

Fly.

“Gods above.” With a swift flick of her wrist, Mohore caught the enemy off guard and confirmed it was no longer a living problem to the voice. “What do we say?”

No response came.

“What do we say?” She rolled her eyes again. It was like trying to teach a toddler manners at times.

Thank.

That will do.

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

I've had this moment of realization some weeks ago, after I watched Red, White & Royal Blue. I even wrote a bit here and I focused on the genre, on chemistry, the film as an adaption. And then I stumbled on some review or think piece which had its central thesis based on the fact that this film is just another US/Royal imperialist propaganda, wrapped up nicely as a rom-com. And I was dumbfounded because why didn't that thought cross my mind instantly? Of course the ideological frame of analysis is but one, but it's still important. Me from a few years ago would know it. Me from today had to read it someplace else. Around that same time, I saw a teaser for an experimental film on Mubi in which the narrator talked about physical and imaginary borders. And again that terminology made me think of the times in which I could so easily talk about and use concepts related to borders, displacement, belonging, otherness, imperialism/colonialism, all critical paradigms that have now left my vocabulary.

Of course that as years went by, my research focus had shifted as I worked more and more in the area of gender identity (especially women in cinema) and then forms of masculinity (because of Jimin, which is something I haven't told before). And that led to becoming familiar with another set of concepts and adopting a terminology which I had to chance to use it in my posts here on tumblr a lot more than in my academic research in the past 3-4 years.

But what I wanted to say was that when I realized I was blind to the ideology in some Hollywood movie, I felt stupid. I felt like I regressed so much, compared to 22-23 year old me who could so easily juggle with those notions. Where has it gone? Did it disappear completely? Maybe not. I can bring that side of my brain back to life if I only go through some articles briefly. But it doesn't take away the fact that I had lived that moment of realization.

And now that I have distanced myself from the "institution", what's left? Will all my knowledge be stored in some part of my brain and I will forget about it as I move on and do other stuff? Why do I consider that specific type of knowledge as the only smart and relevant component?

And what about fatigue and apathy? And what about those concepts and ideas which belonged to people who no longer have a place, but their presence still lingers because I have assimilated their ideas? Years later and I still believe and use words and concepts that were not initially mine, but I can't get rid of them because I made them mine in the process?

There's always been this inner conflict as to what's the purpose of research. I don't know which is my voice and which is the other one with more power and influence. Do I think that having my name published is the ultimate purpose? I used to (I was being told), but when it happened, I felt no joy. I felt more relieved that it was finally over after months and years of work.

But then I stay up for days and I do stuff on my own and I finally write essays with no outside pressure and I come and post them here. And in those moments I'm happy. I'm also happy not for the likes and reblogs, but when I see other people commenting or sending asks in which they share their thoughts. And no one knows who I am and I don't get any recognition and none if it goes into some portfolio. And I'm happy. And then I get reminded that I was told about the democratization of research as well, of how it should reach more people, instead of getting locked up behind paywalls and that sharing the knowledge is the most important thing. And I believed it 10 years ago and I believe it now. And then I have to be confronted with the fact that such type of writing doesn't really have a place in a fandom that places a lot more stock on other type of participation.

Contradictory ideas coming from the same source which are fighting in my brain. And are part of me, whether I like it or not.

[causeilikelix]

Chapter Twelve - Houston, Felix Has One Problem

↳ Pairing: Felix x OC / Hyunjin x OC (later)

↳ Genre: Romance, comedy, smut (eventual), slow burn, enemies (idiots) to friends (idiots) to lovers (probably still idiots), high school au, college au, non-idol au

↳ See Chapter One for summery and blanket warnings

↳ Chapter warnings: Perv Felix (if you squint), poor guy can't catch a break, I think that's it?

↳ Read on my A03: Here

↳ Notes: Sorry this took so long! School, work, you get it!

<- Chapter Eleven - Chapter Thirteen ->

THE GOLDEN SUN shone down on the gaggle of exhausted teenagers as they stood in the middle of the park at six-thirty in the goddamn morning.  Eunbyeol found herself regretting asking Jisung for help with the project because that meant they had to follow his schedule.  He insisted that sunrise would get them the best lighting, and now that they were in position along the river Eunbyeol could sort of understand.  She’d tried desperately to talk him out of it, but Jisung put his foot down.  Something about wanting to make his girl look as good as possible.

The girls stayed over at Jiho’s parent’s house so they could wake up at four-thirty in the morning to do hair and makeup for the shoot.  Despite Jiho and Jisung’s relationship staying strong, she shot daggers at him through her eyes as he, Felix, and Seungmin set up the lights and the camera.  Eunbyeol wondered if the makeup they all had on hid the dark circles under their eyes or if it would be obvious in the video how exhausted they all were.  

After the party, Jisung kept to his promise and sat with Eunbyeol and Jiho at lunch for a couple of weeks and joined them for study sessions so he and Eunbyeol could brainstorm ideas for the video.  Seungmin occasionally joined them for brainstorming sessions, but he mostly lurked in the massive group chat with all ten of them in it.  Jeongin, while he couldn’t come to help until later in the day, proved himself to be an active member in the creative process since he insisted on tagging along for a few study sessions.  He even went location scouting with them a few times and helped them choose the spot by the river.  He planned on joining them later with another camera so they could split up to get individual shots of the girls.

Thankfully, Felix kept himself out of it as much as he could and Eunbyeol appreciated it.  He didn’t help with the creative process and he never responded directly to her in the group chat.  After everything that happened at the party, Felix could barely make eye contact with her.  Not that she necessarily wanted to make eye contact with him, but he was right about one thing.  Neither of them had any idea what was going on between them, so Eunbyeol did the only thing she knew how and withdrew as much as she could from the situation.  The air between them before the competition had been practically electric, both of them eager to take the other one down.  After everything that happened between them, Felix opted to keep his distance.  

Some things hadn’t changed.  The only words shared between them directly were mostly in class, polite formalities or academic discussions when they were forced into groups to talk about the subject being discussed in class.  Eunbyeol didn’t know how to talk to him for some reason and he couldn’t seem to find the words either.  She couldn’t stop thinking about what he said to her in the bedroom, about deciding what they were.  She hadn’t expected it to be so difficult to come up with an answer.  

Eunbyeol watched him as he checked the lighting in the camera and waved Jisung over to double check it.  The two boys talked between themselves for a minute, murmuring quietly.  Their words were drowned out by the chilly morning wind, but Eunbyeol figured it was mostly technical speak anyway.  She watched as Felix’s plush mouth moved as he spoke.  Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, practically tasting the remainder of peach soju she’d tasted all those weeks ago.  

Eunbyeol shook her head, snapping her head back into the present and sighing heavily when she remembered all of the reasons he made her blood boil.  Eunbyeol had to remember that she didn’t like him for a reason.  She didn’t like him because... he was completely and utterly confusing.  Her eyes narrowed at the thought.  Eunbyeol could say for certain that she didn’t like the way he talked, and his laugh was like nails down a chalkboard to her ears, and his smile made her want to gag.  Thankfully, today would be the only day for the rest of the summer where she would have to deal with him.  Oh, the things she put up with for Jiho.

“Who’s fucking idea was this?”  Chohui muttered from where she sat on the ground as they waited for the boys to finish rigging the lights. 

“I promise if we get a couple of decent shots in this lighting then we can take a coffee break, okay?”  Jisung murmured from behind the camera where he and Felix were peering carefully at the screen.  “Seungmin-ah, see if you can make the left light a little dimmer.  We want to get them mostly in the sun.”

“Got it.”  Seungmin hurried obediently to adjust the light.  

“Also I think we need to make their backwash light a little bit brighter, so they don’t disappear into the background.”  Felix added.

“Where did you guys even get these lights?”  Ah Joong glanced around at the three small but powerful LED lights perched on tripods and positioned strategically around the area. 

“This, my friend, is what it looks like when...”  Jisung paused to lean back and survey the scene in front of him, peering between the girls and the display on the camera, “... the arts are funded.  Felix, what do you think?”

“I think...”  Felix looked closer at the camera for a few seconds.  “I think this looks great and we need to get going.”

“Alright, perfect.  Places!”  Jisung called.  “I hope you girls stretched this morning.”

“What do you take us for?  Amateurs?”  Ah Joong smirked playfully as she made her way to her starting position.

“Are you ready?  Seungmin-ah, cue the music!”  Jisung lifted his finger in the air and pressed a button on the camera.  “Action!”

Seungmin pressed a button on his phone and the song immediately began to play through the portable speaker placed strategically out of shot.  The girls slipped into action easily, playing to the camera as if they did this sort of thing every day.  Jisung kept his eyes on the camera to make sure everyone stayed in frame but Felix found his eyes drawn towards their expert movements.  He cleared his throat when the girls started into the first chorus and he looked away, suddenly cursing himself for agreeing to help on this dumb project.  He already had to deal with the awkwardness between him and Eunbyeol in class, not to mention the awkward third-wheeling when he hung out with Jiho and Jisung.  On top of that, it was difficult to fully participate in the group friendship in the group chat with all of them in it.  He didn’t want to say the wrong thing and have Eunbyeol snap at him in public, so to speak. 

The distance between them was unfortunately necessary.  When he woke up that morning to find her essentially in his arms with her hand on him, his heart nearly pounded out of his chest.  In the morning light with sleep softening her features, she looked dazzling.  Her eyelashes fanned perfectly across her face and her hair was soft under his fingertips.  He’d dreamt about waking up next to her for months and he could hardly believe his luck.  Felix knew she hated the idea of sleeping next to him, but for a moment it almost was like he could live in a fantasy world where they could be comfortable together.  To wake up with her within reach was something he’d only ever dreamed of.  Why did he have to want more?

Because he wanted more, he had to keep his distance.  Because even though kissing her with fire made him warm in all the right places, the moment he kept going back to was after the kiss when he held her in his arms.  Because, for that moment they spent together in each other’s embrace, Felix crossed a threshold from which he couldn’t return.  He couldn’t take being her punching bag anymore.  It hurt more to know that their feelings for one another were complete polar opposites.  She hated him and he... liked her a lot, to say the least.

The song ended before he knew it and Jisung waited for a few seconds as they looked into the camera intensely.  Finally, he pressed a button and called:

“Cut!”  Jisung applauded and Felix and Seungmin joined him.  “You girls did great!”

“Oh, thank god.”  Chohui sighed, relaxing her shoulders immediately.  “That dance is exhausting.”

“Was that good?  Did we get the only shot we needed?”  Jiho clasped her hands together and batted her eyelashes at her boyfriend.

“Unfortunately not.  We’ll need to shoot a second take for the establishing shot anyway, but I don’t know if this one is any good”  Jisung frowned at the camera and waved Jiho and Eunbyeol over.  “Come watch this and tell me if you see it.”

“Damn.  Okay.  Take five, get some water.”  Eunbyeol called to the others and followed Jiho behind the camera to watch.  “Was it the lighting?”

“No, the lighting looks great.  I’m a genius in that regard.  Just watch.”  Jisung pressed play and the girls crowded closer to get a good look. 

With that, Felix made himself scarce.  The other girls were all scattered around the area, sitting on the ground or by a nearby bench.  Unfortunately, several large bags of various equipment and other supplies took up the bench itself so there wasn’t enough room for anyone to actually sit on it.  A large blue cooler sat next to the bench and Felix flipped open the lid and plunged his hand into the ice.  Felix rummaged around for a few minutes until his hands were loaded with four bottles of sports drinks.  He nudged the cooler closed with his elbow and made his rounds, distributing the electrolyte-rich drink to each girl.  

“You’re a life-saver.”  Ah Joong thanked him as she took one from his hands.  

“It’s the least I could do.”  Felix grinned and passed the last one to Minjeong.

“I think you’re a lot sweeter than some people realize.”  Ah Joong glanced in the direction of the camera pointedly, but Felix pretended not to understand. 

“Really, I’m just glad I can help out!  I know how important this is to Jisung.”    

“Come on, it literally took him blackmailing you to get you to do this.  You really must want your crush to stay secret.”

“I would have done it anyway.  Honestly, I’m glad that I have such close friends here in Korea.  I was worried I would be an outcast because my Korean isn’t great.”  Felix admitted slowly. 

“It’s surprising you’re not closer to Eunbyeol, then.  I know she lived in Australia for a few years and is fluent in English.  She should have been someone who was easy to relate to.”  Ah Joong mused.  “You two have a lot in common.”

“Yeah, I thought so too at first.  Turns out we don’t have as much in common as you’d think.  She’s never been that interested in talking to me anyway.”  Felix shrugged.  

“Admittedly, I’ve not been talking to you because of your rivalry with her, but you’re not as bad as she makes you out to be.”  Ah Joong admitted, lowering her voice to a whisper in case the girl in question could hear them.

“If Jiho and Jisung keep dating, I’m sure we’ll see each other a lot more often.”  Felix grinned.

“By the looks of things, I don’t think those two have any intentions of breaking up anytime soon.  They’ve been long overdue.”

“Jisung told me he used to like Eunbyeol, so I’m glad that doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.”  Felix whispered with a grin. 

“Oh, that was ages ago.  Eunbyeol wasn’t into him at all so his crush fizzled out pretty quick.  He still cares about her and all, obviously, but he’s clearly more obsessed with Jiho.”  

“I swear...”  Felix laughed.  “If I have to sit through one more rant about how perfect Jiho is, I’ll rip my hair out.  Jisung talks about her all the time.  I’m a little jealous, honestly.  I wish someone would talk about me like that.”

“Ugh, tell me about it.  I’m so tired of hearing about it, but I’m happy for them.  You know, I’ve been meaning to ask-”  Ah Joong started. 

“Girls!”  Eunbyeol called the group.  “Let’s run it again, okay?  There was someone in the background of the shot the whole time but they’re gone now.  Let’s go!”

“The grind never stops.”  Ah Joong groaned, setting her bottle aside and holding her hands out for Felix.  He gripped her arm instinctively and helped her rise to her feet.  “It was nice talking to you, we should do this again sometime.”

“Likewise.”  Felix nodded. 

Felix made his way back to the camera where Jisung was messing with the focus settings.  The girls got into position and Seungmin checked all the lights.  Felix’s eyes drifted past the camera against his will and his gaze fell on Eunbyeol as naturally as if he was looking towards the light.  Her eyes seemed to twinkle in the morning glow, but he also figured it came from the bright smile on her face as she talked with Jiho about something.  Jiho whispered something into her ear and Eunbyeol laughed out loud, the sound carrying around the area as clear as a bell.  Felix’s heart leapt into his heart and he shook his head and turned his attention back to the camera. 

Once the girls were set, Jisung called action and Seungmin pressed play on the song.  The dance began and Felix averted his gaze on purpose.  After how the dance affected him the first time, he had no desire to deal with that... issue again.  Felix wasn’t confident in his ability to conceal it as well with the others around and no immediate access to privacy.  However, he admitted that he wasn’t sure he would even encounter that problem again considering how Eunbyeol acted around him these days.  

It wasn’t that his feelings were gone.  In fact, even being here to help Eunbyeol made his heart climb into his throat.  It was torture enough to sit behind her each day.  He watched her laugh and talk with Jiho and Jisung and pretend, for the most part, that he didn’t even exist.  He watched Eunbyeol chew a piece of strawberry bubblegum in third hour every day and apply chapstick before the start of each class. Felix wanted to join the conversion, or ask for a piece of gum, or offer her a new tube of chapstick when she ran out.  Instead, however, he waited passively.  He could see the gears turning behind her eyes whenever she looked at him.  Felix didn’t know what was worse: having a negative relationship with her or not having one at all.  He wondered if she had the same dilemma. 

The dance progressed and the sun climbed a fraction higher into the sky.  Felix glanced up as the golden rays peeked over the building and added an amber wash to the scene.  Jisung’s lips pursed but he didn’t call for the end of the shot.  Felix focused on the expressions of the girls, who didn’t seem to blink at the appearance of a new light source.  Felix knew that one shot with consistent lighting was vital to the editing process, but he had to admit that the ever-rising sun added a flare of the dramatic.  

Eunbyeol flipped her hair with the choreography and the light hit it just right.  Her thick black hair suddenly glowed with golden highlights for a split second, but it was enough.  Under the golden touch of the sun her skin seemed to glow.  Her eyes sparkled with intensity and reflected the burning heat from above.  Felix’s fingers curled into fists and his nails dug into his palms.  His heart rate increased as he watched her and he had to focus very hard on keeping his breathing steady.  He pressed two of his fingers to his jugular.  He should have been less surprised to feel just how quickly his heart raced.  At this rate, he could give Formula 1 drivers a run for their money.  

Eunbyeol danced like she’d injected the music straight into her veins.  Just like the first time he saw her dance on stage, she moved as if it was second nature to her.  Despite the intensity in her eyes, something in them and Felix knew instantly just how happy it made her.  Even with Felix’s presence it didn’t stop her from enjoying herself.  Somehow, in spite of himself, a smile crept onto Felix’s lips.  Something about watching Eunbyeol in her element made his heart swell.  He didn’t know what she was thinking about him or their relationship or anything but the more he looked at her the more he realized that it didn’t matter.  

All Felix really wanted was to be the cause of her smile.  He wanted to walk in the classroom each morning and for her to smile when she saw him and hold her hand when they walked to lunch.  He wanted so much more, but at this moment he only wanted her to let him be around.  At least for right now Felix could be satisfied with just... being around her.  His mind and his heart told him two completely different things and Felix found himself compelled to listen to his heart today. 

“And... cut!”  Jisung’s sharp voice abruptly cut through Felix’s thoughts.  “That take was so much better!”

“Did you see the way the light hit us?”  Ah Joong squealed and the rest of the girls immediately erupted into conversation, talking between themselves about things to improve during their next run. 

“Get that stupid smile off your face.”  Seungmin elbowed Felix in the ribs and he jumped, not realizing that the other boy had materialized next to him.  “Even she will figure it out at this rate if you’re too obvious.”

“What?”  Felix blinked in surprise.  His face immediately fell.  He hadn’t realized he was smiling. 

“Don’t play dumb, idiot.”  Seungmin slung an innocent arm over Felix’s shoulders.  “You like Eunbyeol and it's disgusting.”

“I... excuse me?  No, I don’t-”  

“Give it up.”  Jisung cut in with a roll of his eyes.  “We’ve known since you saw her making out with Younghyun that day.”

“Come on, I’d be stupid to like her. ”

“You’re not subtle.  Like.  At all.  I simply refuse to pretend like I don’t know any longer.  Also, you know I know this so I have no idea what’s wrong with you.”  

“Shit...”  Felix muttered under his breath, there was no point in denying it anymore.  “You’re not going to tell Jiho, are you?”

“Well I’m not going to deny it if she asks, but it’s not like we sit around talking about you all the time so I don’t know if it’ll come up.”  Jisung shrugged and Felix could feel the blood draining out of his face.  

“Wait, is that why you dared me to kiss her in the closet?”  Felix gawked at his friend as everything fell into place. 

“No, I dared you to kiss her because I thought it would be funny to see you with another black eye!”  Jisung exclaimed with a dramatic laugh before dropping the act and rolling his eyes.  “Why the fuck do you think I did it?” 

“So did you?”  Seungmin leaned in.  “Did you kiss her?”

“The other option was to tell her I thought she was hot.”  Felix scoffed.  “I wasn’t about to do either of those things.  I have no desire to be punched again.  That was not fun.”

“Come on, did you do it?”  Jisung peered at him pointedly. 

“I can confidently say that I’ve still only kissed one person since I got to Korea.”  Felix cleared his throat, hoping that the others wouldn’t catch on.  He wasn’t lying.

“You drive me crazy.”  Jisung rolled his eyes.  “You’re obsessed with this girl and you didn’t take the opportunity to tell her you liked her or kiss her or anything?  I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me.  Hey, Eunbyeol-ah!  Come watch this shot!”

“Ah, be right there!”  Eunbyeol’s clear voice cut through the morning air and Felix immediately had to make himself scarce.  “Girls, we will have to do it one more time to make sure we get some actual consistent lighting but then if we do that run well we can focus on more specific parts.  That way we can conserve energy a bit since we’ll have to do another runthrough or two at school later.”

“Thank god.”  Ah Joong heaved a deep sigh.  “I don’t know how many times I can run this thing.”

“Jisung-ah, show me.”  Eunbyeol made her way to the other side of the camera and Felix made his way back over to the pile of their bags on the bench to get a water bottle of his own.

For a few minutes, the girls sat around and sipped their sports drinks and Felix and Seungmin made small talk while Eunbyeol and Jisung watched the video.  Jiho ventured over to watch as well at some point.  The girls shared smiles when they got to the part where the sun hit them just right.  On one hand, Felix could hardly wait to see the finished product but on the other he wasn’t sure he would survive the video.  Thankfully, he didn’t think he would be part of the editing process, so he wouldn’t have to watch it over and over again.  He wasn’t sure he could take it. 

Eventually, Eunbyeol had the girls reset for one final take.  Felix returned to Jisung’s side to help supervise the camera.  The three boys made some last minute adjustments to the artificial lighting before starting another take.  Jisung approved the lighting before cueing Seungmin with the song once more.

“Action!” 

Despite being tired already, the girls put everything they had into one last shot.  Eunbyeol stared at the camera intensely and Felix cleared his throat.  Somehow, as he looked at the camera, it was as if she was staring right at him.  Her eyes darkened with charisma and something inside him stirred.  He swallowed thickly as he watched her.  Somehow, the intensity of the dance got to him just like the first time he saw it.  Just like her performance on stage, Eunbyeol looked cool and professional and she stared into the camera like she wanted someone on the other side. 

Since he first saw her perform, she’d looked at him very similarly a couple of times.  Once in the closet (which he did because he wanted to and not because of Jisung’s stupid dare) and a second time in the bedroom they had to share.  When Felix touched her again, he could see the conflict in her eyes.  Her emotions weren’t as enormous as they were in the closet but he could still see how she craved his touch, just like he’d craved hers.  She’d leaned closer to him and her pupils dilated when he said all that shit about kissing her again.  Eunbyeol’s body warmed under his touch and he’d wanted so badly to kiss her until the sun came up.  He hadn’t actually expected anything to happen.  While he might have slept with her if she’d gone with it, it was never his end goal, but he knew that she never would.  Somehow, just the thought that at one point she did want him made his body react in an unholy way.  

He didn’t need to be a genius to see that she didn’t feel that way anymore.  The way that she’d looked at him the next morning was enough for him to tell.  It didn’t help that now she practically looked right through him.  Watching the camera as she stared into the lens seemed to be the only way for her to look at him.  Felix would have to be okay with it for now.

“Cut!”  Jisung once again cut through Felix’s thoughts and he was glad for it.  Felix wasn’t going to last much longer. 

Eunbyeol’s face broke out into a smile and Felix’s breath hitched.  She finally called for everyone to take a break while she and Jisung worked out which scenes they wanted to shoot next.  Felix picked up what she said mostly from context clues.  He could barely hear a word from her mouth as he watched her talk to the others.  She ran her hands through her hair in order to soothe it and Felix had to tear his eyes away to focus on something else. 

“You’re so fucked, dude.”  Seungmin laughed as he watched Felix become overly invested in the stray thread on his shirt.  

“Shut up!  Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Don’t you?”  Seungmin teased and nudged him with his shoulder. 

“Fuck off.” 

“Fuck her.”

“Seungmin-ah!”  Felix gasped as if he’d been shot.  “Don’t be disgusting, I can’t do that.”

“Can’t or won’t?”  Seungmin wiggled his eyebrows. 

“What?”  Felix sputtered incoherently.

“You both are so stupid.  She certainly hasn’t been looking at me all morning like she wants to fuck my brains out, and it’s not Jisung either.  So, that just leaves you.  She’s been making eyes at you all morning.”

“No, she hasn’t.  There’s no way.  The last time we talked, she practically slammed the door on my ass.  She wants nothing to do with me, and the feeling is starting to be mutual.”

“Please, you're in way too deep for that, Lix-yah.”  Jisung spoke up, finally tearing his eyes away from the camera.  “I think you need to talk to her.”

“Excuse me?  Do you want to find my body washed up on the riverbank in a few weeks?”  Felix’s jaw dropped. 

“No.  I want you and Eunbyeol to either fuck it out or do something, anything, to ease this awful tension between you.  Now, I don’t know what all has gone on between you guys but I really think it’s time you two talked about it.”  Jisung folded his arms over his chest pointedly.  “I think I speak for all ten of us when I say this, too.”

“He does.”  Seungmin chimed in.  

Felix glanced over at the group of girls, who were sitting on the grass off to the side of the path where they were filming. They sat around dabbing sweat from their faces and sipping at sports drinks.  Eunbyeol peered down at a folder where Felix could only assume she had the filming schedule propped open.  He could practically see her mind at work as she mentally went over the dance in her head, as if she hadn’t just gone through it three times in real life.  Felix could see her processing notes for the others and things she wanted to talk to Jisung about.  She leaned over slightly as she produced a pen from under the folder and wrote a note in the margins.  Eunbyeol’s hair fell across her face and she lifted her hand to push it behind her ear.  Felix swallowed. 

“I wouldn’t even know what to say.”  Felix turned back to his friends. 

“I dunno, maybe tell her how you feel?”  Jisung suggested with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders.  

“I... I can’t do that.  Our feelings for each other are polar opposites.”

“Then tell her what you want from her.  Or, from your relationship I should say, and try to find a common ground.”  Seungmin offered.  For a moment, Felix wondered when his friends got so mature. 

“For some reason, this isn’t helping.”  Felix dropped his head into his hands.  He pressed his palms onto his closed eyelids and watched the colored lightshow of stress flash in the dark.  “She means a lot to me and I don’t know what to do.  If I were to tell her how I really feel... god, I don’t even want to imagine the look of disgust on her face.”

“Eunbyeol means a lot to you, huh?”  Jisung mused.  “Look man, since you’ve gotten here she’s been nothing but horrible to you.  Granted, you haven’t been great back to her, but it’s not like anything healthy could possibly happen right now.”

“She does mean a lot to me...”  Felix trailed off, wondering if he could safely tell Jisung and Seungmin the one thing Eunbyeol didn’t want anyone to know.  Would it help if they knew how they met?  “Honestly... she and I...”

“You did kiss!  I knew it!”  Seungmin exclaimed and Felix jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.  

“Shut up!”  Felix hissed.  “No!  Nevermind, this is ridiculous.  I don’t feel like talking about this with you anymore.”  

“Come on, come on.  Surely things between you and Eunbyeol aren’t that bad, are they?  Surely you can have a conversation with her?”  

“No.  There’s no way.  I wouldn’t even know what to say.  Besides, she’s so difficult to talk to.  She’s so stubborn and annoying.  She absolutely refuses to see reason and-”

“Eunbyeol-ah!”  Jisung cried suddenly, glancing pointedly over Felix’s shoulder.  Felix’s entire body tensed.  “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?  Do you want to watch the last shot we took?”

“Sure, I’ll take a look.  But I wanted to go over the schedule with you and see which shots you think should take priority right now.  We’ve got a couple hours before Jeongin shows up and I wanna make sure we’re on track.”  Eunbyeol explained.  She shoved past Felix, knocking their shoulders roughly as she passed.  Felix started to protest, but she kept her nose buried in the document she was looking at.  

“See?”  Felix mouthed at Seungmin, who could only shrug. 

“Sure, sure.  I’d love to talk with you.  However, I need to take a little break and run over to the cafe to use the bathroom real quick.  Then we can get right to it!”  Jisung smiled innocently.  “Besides, I think Felix had something he wanted to talk about.”

“He does?”  Eunbyeol glanced over her shoulder at Felix for a second.  “What, does he want to stick his big nose in and meddle with our project?”

“No, I don’t think that’s it at all.”  Jisung kept his innocent smile plastered on his face, ignoring Felix as he tried desperately to signal that this was a terrible idea. 

Felix drew a line across his throat, crossed his hands over each other to make an X, mouthed warnings and expletives, but nothing deterred Han Jisung when he set his mind to something.  Jisung grabbed Seungmin’s arm and loudly claimed they were making a bathroom trip if anyone else wanted to go.  A couple of the girls heard the announcement and chimed in with their interest. 

“Don’t take too long!”  Eunbyeol gave in, crossing her arms over her chest.  “We don’t wanna get behind schedule.  We only have today to shoot this thing.”

“Yes, Ma’am!”  

Jisung dropped into an overly deep, exaggerated bow before grabbing Seungmin’s arm and started across the park towards the coffee shop they’d passed on the way in.  A few of the girls jumped up to follow the boys, leaving Felix and Eunbyeol standing together on the path with only Ah Joong and Minjeong sitting on the grass a few feet away.

Eunbyeol stood there on the path, eyeing Felix down.  Her arms crossed over her chest as she stared at him.  He wanted to shrink away and find someplace to hide.  Felix wondered how she could make him feel so small.  His mind raced a million miles an hour, wondering just what he was supposed to say.  He wondered if he could just bullshit something about the shot, or the dance, or the lighting, or literally anything.  However, he came up completely empty.  His jaw opened and closed a few times, unable to come up with anything.  

“You look like an idiot.”  Eunbyeol rolled her eyes.  “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”  

“Look, I... was thinking that...”  Felix paused in a desperate attempt to hold off the conversation a little longer. 

“Just spit it out.  What do you want?” 

“I want... to know what you thought about what we talked about last time?”  Felix blurted, speaking so quickly that it came out sounding more like one word.  

“You mean what we are?”  Her blunt words knocked the breath out of him and all he could do was nod.  “As much as I would love to sit here and deliberate the exact nature of our relationship, I don’t have the time or the energy to talk about it with you right now.  Besides, I don’t think you’ll be a fan of the answer.”

“The answer?  You mean, you’ve known what you want for a while and you didn’t tell me?”  

“Well, if I’m being perfectly honest, I thought I was telling you.  I’ve been keeping my distance and only talking to you when necessary.”  Eunbyeol shrugged nonchalantly but the action shoved an ice pick directly into his heart.  “Felix, let’s be honest here.  You and I?  We’re not friends.  I don’t think we ever have been, so why should we start now?”

“So instead you want to keep fighting with me?”  

“Now look at who's making assumptions without any prior evidence.  No, Felix.  I don’t want to keep fighting with you.  I want exactly the same thing I wanted on the first day you arrived at school.  I don’t want to be involved with you or associated with you, and I don’t want anyone to know about what happened in Australia.”  Every word out of her mouth was another jab of the pick deeper into his chest. 

“You want nothing to do with me?”

“As if I haven’t made that perfectly clear for almost an entire year!”  Eunbyeol exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.  “You have been obnoxious and annoying and I’m not interested in any sort of relationship with you.”

“But... wait, I...”  Felix opened his mouth as if to tell her of the feelings in his chest, but the words wouldn’t come out.  Perhaps it was for the better. 

“I’m tired.  So I’m willing to be cordial with you for the sake of doing our work at school.  Plus your best friend is dating my best friend and I don’t see that ending any time soon, but I want as little of a relationship as possible.”  Eunbyeol’s hands landed on her hips.  She watched him sort through everything in his head.  “Why is this such a surprise to you?”

“Because I thought that...”  Felix started, but the words died on his tongue.  Eunbyeol waited with surprising patience for a few minutes.  “You mean... everything that’s happened over the last year hasn’t changed your mind?  Not even a little bit?”

“Was it supposed to change my mind?”  Eunbyeol blinked in surprise. 

“What?  I mean, no!”  Felix blurted.  “No!  I just mean that even in just the last six months we’ve-”

“I know what we’ve done, you don’t have to remind me.”

“You’ve made it very clear that you need to be reminded sometimes!”  

“I don’t need reminding now!  I know what happened and I’m beginning to think that you think it meant something.”  Eunbyeol’s cold stare knocked the air out of his lungs.  

Felix’s feet seemed to sway and teeter under him, as if he was precariously balanced on the top of a steep and crumbling staircase and the only thing keeping him from falling backwards was Eunbyeol’s grip on his shirt.  It’s like he was desperately seeking traction and only balanced on his tiptoes.  Felix couldn’t seem to grasp onto her.  Any time he reached for her, his fingers passed through her like smoke.  He wasn’t sure if Eunbyeol had ever been tangible.  The more he thought about it, the more he realized that all the times she’d been in his arms had been fleeting.  He wanted to feel her in the circle of his arms and touch her skin, but she always stood away from him.  

Maybe that’s all he would ever get. 

“It didn’t-”  Felix started to ask, but he decided against the words he wanted to ask.  Now was not the time to be vulnerable.  He cleared his throat, praying that he would have some strength in his voice.  “If anything, I wondered if you thought it all meant something.  In any case, it’s not like it was completely meaningless, but I wasn’t expecting to date you.”

“Ha!”  Eunbyeol’s loud laugh made the other girls glance up from their phones to see what the matter was.  “At least we’re on the same page about one thing;  Lee Felix, I will never want to date you.”

Fuck.

Felix’s tumble from the top stair was just as devastating, if not more so, than his fall off the cliff and into his feelings for her.  Eunbyeol let go of the fabric of his t-shirt and let him go.  He knew he’d never have her, but for some reason the reality of it left him breathless.  He fell free, untethered to anything and without knowing where or when he would land.  Smoke billowed around him as he tumbled through the darkness.  His heart crumbled to dust and he grasped for it mindlessly, but each grain slipped through his fingers and disappeared into the void. 

He’d known this truth all along, but something about hearing it directly from her lips made it all the more overwhelming.  White noise crashed in his ears like the waves of the ocean, and Felix dreaded the thought that he would never be able to cross over that expanse to get to her.  Eunbyeol would always be worlds away. 

I know you feel that way, but I don’t.  I like you. 

Eunbyeol-ah, you mean too much to me to just stop.  I want to explore more with you.  Please.

We never even tried to go at it normally, like friends.  Can’t we give that a try?

Felix’s mind swirled with words he wanted to say to her, but she didn’t want to hear any of them.  She would never hear him.  So, instead, he said something he knew she would hear. 

“Don’t worry.  I’ll never want to date you either.”

~!~!~!~!~!~

A/N: Congrats! You've reached the end of the first arc! The second arc has a lot more action and more characters we all love and adore (like the rest of SKZ lol). STAY Tuned!

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Richard V. Reeves

Published: May 24, 2023

One hundred and fifty years ago this month, John Stuart Mill died in his home in Avignon. His last words were to his step-daughter, Helen Taylor: “You know that I have done my work.”

He certainly had. During his 66 years of life, Mill became the preeminent public intellectual of the century, producing definitive works of logic and political economy, founding and editing journals, serving in Parliament, and churning out book reviews, journalism and essays, most famously his 1859 masterpiece, On Liberty. Oh, and he had a day job, too: as one of the most senior bureaucrats in the East India Company. 

What is too often forgotten about Mill is that he was as much an activist as an academic. Benjamin Franklin exhorted his followers to “either write something worth reading or do something worth writing.” Mill, like Franklin himself, is among the very few who managed to do both.

For Mill, liberalism did not only have to be argued for, it had to be fought for, too. He campaigned for women’s rights and was the first MP to introduce a bill for women’s suffrage into Parliament. He was a fiercely committed anti-racist, strongly supporting the abolitionist movement in the United States, and the North in the Civil War. Mill also led a successful campaign for the right to protest and speak in London’s public parks. In Hyde Park, the famous Speaker’s Corner stands today as a tribute to his victory. 

And unlike many of his 19th century peers, Mill’s thought remains vividly topical even today. In fact, Mill is more in the spotlight now, and more needed now, than he was two decades ago. My own book about Mill was published in 2007 and although it received polite, even somewhat enthusiastic notices in the right places, back then, the case for liberalism, which Mill still makes better than any other, hardly seemed like a pressing concern.

What a difference a decade can make. On every front—economic, political, philosophical, cultural, the very idea of liberalism is being questioned, and threatened. Here I’ll just take on two of the challenges to Mill’s variety of liberalism: a growing skepticism of the value of free speech, and post-liberal attacks on liberal individualism.

Why does free speech matter? Mill believed that the pursuit of truth required the collation and combination of ideas and propositions, even those that seem to be in opposition to each other. He urged us to allow others to speak—and then to listen to them—for three main reasons, most crisply articulated in Chapter 2 of On Liberty.

First, the other person’s idea, however controversial it seems today, might turn out to be right. (“The opinion … may possibly be true.”) Second, even if our opinion is largely correct, we hold it more rationally and securely as a result of being challenged. (“He who knows only his own side of the case, knows little of that.”) Third, and in Mill’s view most likely, opposing views may each contain a portion of the truth, which need to be combined. (“Conflicting doctrines … share the truth between them.”)

For Mill, as for us, this is not primarily a legal issue. His main concern was not government censorship. It was the stultifying consequences of social conformity, of a culture where deviation from a prescribed set of opinions is punished through peer pressure and the fear of ostracism. “Protection, therefore, against the tyranny of the magistrate is not enough,” he wrote. “There needs protection also against the tyranny of the prevailing opinion and feeling.”

Mill never pretended that this would be easy, either at a personal or political level. The humility and openness that is required is hard-won. Our identity as a person must be kept separable from the ideas we happen to endorse at a given time. Otherwise, when those ideas are criticized, we are likely to experience the criticism as an attack upon our self, rather than as an opportunity to think about something more deeply and to grow intellectually. That’s why education is so important. Liberals are not born; we have to be made.  

That’s why it would be a good idea for all students to read Mill’s arguments for free speech (and there’s even a free illustrated edition, titled All Minus One available from Heterodox Academy, edited and with an introduction from Jonathan Haidt and myself, which I’ve drawn from a little here.)

Mill has become relevant again as the primary intellectual target for post-liberal scholars like Patrick Deneen and Adrian Vermeule. For them, Mill’s writings are the headwaters of an atomistic, anti-institutional liberalism that has led to a hollowed-out culture.

In his influential book, Why Liberalism Failed, Patrick Deneen is clear that Mill is the principal villain. “Society today has been organized around the Millian principle that ‘everything is allowed,’ at least so long as it does not result in measurable (mainly physical) harm,” he writes. “We live today in the world Mill proposed. Everywhere, at every moment, we are to engage in experiments in living…”

Yeah, no. That’s mostly not the world we live in. And it is certainly not the world Mill proposed. Deneen accuses Mill of being the “midwife” to a “deeper liberal imperative to equalize individuals' opportunity to be liberated from entanglements with others, particularly from the shared cultural norms, institutions, and associations that bind a people's fate together.”

Crediting Mill as a founder of progressive thought, Deneen goes on: “Progressivism aims above all at the liberation of an elite whose ascent requires the disassembling of norms, intermediating institutions, and thick forms of community, a demolition that comes at the expense of these communities’ settled forms of life.”

As a description of Mill’s moral philosophy this is absolute nonsense. It is of course true that Mill worried about the tyranny of custom. He wanted people to be reflective about the plan for their own life, and the extent to which it was compatible with customary forms of life. The claim that Mill wanted to set a wrecking ball on every custom, every institution, every tradition is one that could only be made by someone who has either not actually read Mill, or who is engaging in some egregious misrepresentation. It’s not even a straw man. It’s just a pile of straw.

Here’s what Mill wrote in On Liberty (with my emphases):

“No one’s idea of excellence in conduct is that people should do absolutely nothing but copy one another. No one would assert that people ought not to put into their mode of life, and into the conduct of their concerns, any impress whatever of their own judgment, or of their own individual character. On the other hand, it would be absurd to pretend that people ought to live as if nothing whatever had been known in the world before they came into it; as if experience had as yet done nothing towards showing that one mode of existence or of conduct, is preferable to another. Nobody denies that people should be so taught and trained in youth as to know and benefit from the ascertained results of human experience. But it is the privilege and proper condition of a human being, arrived at the maturity of his faculties, to use and interpret experience in his own way. It is for him to find out what part of recorded experience is properly applicable to his own circumstances and character. The traditions and customs of other people are, to a certain extent, evidence of what their experience has taught them; presumptive evidence, and as such, have a claim to this deference…”

Mill’s view on tradition and custom, then, is that they are very likely to contain the wisdom of the ages, of the accumulated weight of human experience and, yes, of experiments in living. That’s why it would be absurd to ignore them, and why they have a presumptive claim to our deference. But Mill also insists that we should not follow tradition and custom blindly. We should “use and interpret experience.” Mill believes that customs and traditions not only can change over time, but that they should. The alternative, which is Deneen’s only defensible position, is that somebody somewhere should decide, at some point in time, that our traditions and customs be cast in stone. 

Deneen is wrong about Mill, and thus wrong about liberalism, and therefore wrong about everything.

Even though the post-liberals are unwilling to engage with the real Mill, as opposed to their ersatz version, it is a testament to his lasting value that he is still the primary target. Mill spent his life thinking about and working for a society that could balance the value of continuity with the necessity for innovation and progress. Again, nobody said it was easy, a lesson we seem to be learning all over again. But if we need inspiration, we’ll always have Mill.

==

We forgot to keep fighting for liberalism as, like science, an ongoing process rather than a destination. This blink in attention opened the door for the anti-liberalism of both the post-liberal woke and the pre-liberal religious who want to take it away from us and implement their own particular hellscapes. We got so used to liberalism that we took it for granted and became complacent. When we get it back, we need to learn from this mistake.

[sunriseverse]

tagged by @lucientelrunya to do a “twenty questions for fic writers” tag meme (thank you!!!!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

376. about 200 or so of those are pacrim promptfics though, which inflates the number.

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

1,234,900. i unfortunately suffer from a chronic inability to shut up, and fanfic is basically my only non-academic hobby.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

as of march 2023, various adaptations and canons falling under the dmbj umbrella.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

strike it through (start again) (922)

do you feel the hunger (does it howl inside?) (616)

a love that echoes through the distance (472)

strokes of love (441)

chart a course for a better tomorrow (390)

(honestly i’m kind of annoyed my ofmd fics are so popular, since i got in at just the right time (a lot of fandom interest but comparatively few fanfics in comparison to demand) to get a decent amount of attention to them, but i don’t really care about the show anymore so seeing it skew my stats miffs me a bit. also, i think my recent works are just far better written because i’ve improved at my craft.)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

probably 95% of the time, yeah! even if it’s just a “thanks for commenting, glad you liked the fic!” i think it’s important readers know that i’m not just some faceless set of hands posting—i am a real person, as much a part of whatever fandom i’m in as any lurkers.

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

uhhhh well. there’s one i wrote that’s canon-compliant for cql? but i feel like canon-compliant mcd doesn’t count. other than that………i THINK i wrote a “newt dies” fanfic back in ‘19 or ‘20.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

no idea how to go at this question, honestly. with few exceptions, my writing is all either happy endings, or hopeful endings. i don’t have the emotional bandwidth to leave something an open wound, you know? but “the things in this forest have teeth and claws” was probably the most personally-settling things i’ve written.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

yeah, sometimes. i haven’t had this problem since i migrated to ao3, but it did happen on ffnet. before i stopped crossposting to ffnet some time in ‘20/‘21, i got someone calling me a “fat f*g hag”, so. [shrug] i’m pretty used to just deleting comments and not letting them get to me, though, so it’s not a big deal.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

as a rule, no; it’s not really my thing. i prefer to explore interpersonal intimacy in other ways. that’s not to say i won’t imply smut, though—it’s something the characters i write about engage with as part of the course of their lives, and i don’t have any interest in ignoring that, either, even if i don’t explicitly write it out.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

i used to write more crossovers, but now i mainly write fusions (dæmon/hdm fusions and pacrim fusions are some of my favourites). i think probably the wildest fusion i can think of is the tma/iasip fic i wrote one time. i read it the other day, and while it’s a little rough, most of it still holds up, and it’s pretty funny.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge, no. just in case, though, i have a disclaimer in my ao3 bio about any works appearing anywhere besides my ao3 or ffnet (same user) is stolen and i do not authorise it to be there.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

someone asked me years ago (in 2019, i believe) if they could translate one of my pacrim fics into russian. i haven’t heard from them since, though, so effectively the answer here is “no”.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

a couple times! it’s a bit hard because you have to do a lot of coordinating and planning, and that’s assuming the fanfic doesn’t just wind up languishing in the draft/idea phase forever.

14. What's your all-time favorite ship?

this is going to sound silly, but—ozma of oz/dorothy gale. look, i read all the oz books i could get my hands on as a child, and i was always fascinated with their “close friendship” (i wonder why!)

15. What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

i have a wip that was grandfathered in from my friend emma, who wound up leaving fandom (good for her; as she tells it, her mental health improved because of this), that i sometimes stare longingly at with a deeply bittersweet fondness. it’s hannigram, and will probably never be finished because trying to rewatch the show just makes me incalculably angry at brian fuller.

16. What are your writing strengths?

description! i’ve been told i am able to paint the things i write so vividly they almost feel real. i also enjoy descriptive writing, which probably helps.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

plots that aren’t character-driven. i’m a character writer first and foremost, and my projects generally are emotionally-driven, so i don’t have much chance to try and write action-driven plots. which is fine by me, i’m not terribly interested in them. if there’s action in my writing, it’s almost invariably in service to character.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

depends on how it’s handled. it can either be very good, or very bad.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

to absolutely no one’s surprise, warrior cats. this was back in the days of writing fanfic by hand and hiding it away. my oldest still-published fanfic, though, is a discontinued 2017 warrior cats fanfic that centres a deaf apprentice. it’s a pity i never kept any notes for this fanfic (or, if i did, they at some point got lost), because i think the concept is fascinating.

20. Favorite fic you've written?

self-indulgence is the rule here, so probably “best laid plans”, a very silly concept that accidentally acquired a lot of emotion to it. oops!

tagging…………… @lunarriviera , @butchybats , @fixaidea , and anyone else who sees this and wants to participate!

[trans-cuchulainn]

Does the O'Rahilly translation contain both recensions in one Volume or are they sold separately? I've been looking around for em for a while but haven't pulled the trigger yet because I can't figure if I'm supposed to buy both or just one.

they're published separately. recension 1 (1976) is published as "táin bó cúailnge: recension 1", and contains the edited irish text and the translation. book of leinster (1967) is published as "táin bó cúalnge from the book of leinster" and contains the edited irish text and the translation, with a slightly more detailed introduction. stowe (1961) is published as "the stowe version of táin bó cúailnge" and contains only the edited irish text, a select glossary, and an introduction; there is no translation in this text.

(o'rahilly did not edit r3, r3 is incredibly fragmentary and has been edited half by nettlau and half by thurneysen in two different academic journals, these are online somewhere i think. you don't need to bother with r3 99% of the time, most academics generally forget it exists / don't include it in discussions because there's not really enough of it to sustain arguments a lot of the time, unless you're looking at something really specific that happens to show up in those fragments!)

both recension 1 and book of leinster are available to read on CELT, in irish and in english, so if it's purely for reading purposes, that's super useful. but for line numbers and stuff the physical copies come in handy (and for aesthetics).

whether you get just one or all of them really depends on what you want. i bought recension 1 first because it was in their black friday sale a few years ago and i could get it cheaply, and that was useful, but for the work i was doing at the time i wanted the book of leinster version, so i acquired that one a couple of months later. i didn't bother buying stowe because of the lack of translation, until i was doing work that required translating parts of stowe and figured it would be easier if i had my own copy -- i'd photocopied some pages from the library but it wasn't really cutting it, especially as i wanted to flip back and forth to the glossary

if you aren't in a position to work directly with 15th century irish (most people aren't) then there is no point buying stowe, frankly. but whether you want both of the others or just one is up to you! most people think the book of leinster text is "better" -- the redactors smooth out the story, get rid of a lot of the continuity errors (not all of them), and make it more of a continuous narrative, plus it has the extended 'comrac fir diad' episode with the 4-day fight, compared to r1's 1-day fight. so if you want a readable narrative and/or are focused on ferdia etc, i'd go for book of leinster in the first instance. however, r1 has slightly more supernatural/otherworldly stuff, with marginally more emphasis on the role of the morrígan and lug, since book of leinster really understates those elements. so if that's your interest, you want r1.

but if you're having to pay big shipping costs to buy them from ireland then to some extent you might as well get them both at once if your budget will stretch to it lol. it definitely changes your perspective on the story to start engaging with it on the recension level and understand how the priorities and emphasis shift from one version to another, it really disrupts your thinking of it as a set narrative and lets you see it as something much more complex and fluid, which it is

when i first started working with recensions i hated it but now it's like the first thing i do when i'm interested in a new strand of it, is go see how each version tackles that strand

as i say though, you can read o'rahilly's translations of r1 and LL on CELT, so if it's purely reading you want, you do not need to spend €35/€70 on buying one/both of them unless you wish to!