#maybe i should apply for a single next semester

[demonicdragoncat]

I swear to fucking god I have terrible roommate luck. It makes me want to scream. First I had a girl who wouldn't shut up over the TikToks and E rated fics for Miraculous Ladybug she was consuming.

Then I had an obnoxious bitch who constantly argued with a fiancée who insulted me.

And finally I had a piece of shit who would keep her fucking LED lights on 24/7 and would use my property without my permission to the point where I think she took two of my Switch games. And then the bitch had the nerve to deny that she went through my things when I know she did.

Fucking hell. I want to scream and cry.

My current roommate is okay but I waiting for the other shoe to drop.

[karuvapatta]

so hey, remember when I said I wasn't going to write any more Jonelias? but then things happened, we started chatting about a fantasy AU on the Jonelias discord server, and, uh. I wrote a short ficlet set in said AU...?

***

Jon knocked on the door, once, twice; his hands shook slightly, so the rhythm of it was unpleasantly erratic. Should he knock again? He didn’t want to appear rude or impatient, but he also didn’t want to risk being too quiet. If the man didn’t hear him, if he thought Jon was running late—

“Come in.”

He took in a steadying breath and pushed the door open. Immediately he stepped into a patch of sunlight, streaming directly from the huge, ornate window on the opposite wall. He blinked, narrowed his eyes; the desk was silhouetted against the bright sky, and it took him a moment to adjust.

“Mr Sims, I presume?”

“I—yes. Jonathan Sims. Er.” Jon cleared his throat. “Thank you for agreeing to meet me, Master Bouchard. It’s an. An honour.”

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” Master Bouchard said smoothly. “Please, take a seat.”

He gestured at a chair in front of his desk. Jon took a few careful steps in its direction, and then sat down on the edge of the seat, taking care not to slouch. The bag he forgot to take off his shoulder dangled awkwardly. He had to shuffle around to remove it, and first placed it on his lap, before setting it down on the floor next to the chair. His hands were sweaty; he wiped them off on his trousers before he could think better of it, and then attempted to smooth the resultant creases in the fabric. His left cuff rode up an inch, so he tugged it down, and made sure it laid snug and secure around his wrist. Only then did he manage to look up.

Master Bouchard was watching him, the corner of his mouth twitching momentarily before settling into a polite smile. His steel-grey eyes flickered down to Jon’s hands, no doubt noting all the nervous gestures. His gaze felt—weighty. Not unsympathetic, just—

Jon swallowed.

“Shall we begin, then?” Bouchard asked. “Your resume is quite impressive for one so young, Mr Sims. Five publications across two journals…”

“Three,” Jon said. “I mean—I wrote three articles. For the other two, I was a co-author… mostly editorial input…” Again, he tried to clear his throat. He shouldn’t have interrupted a Master; he should have kept his mouth shut. Damn.

But Bouchard didn’t seem frazzled by the blatant disrespect. He opened a file on his desk – Jon’s file. Jon’s resume, his letter of recommendation, a printout of the articles, his diploma… Bouchard skimmed the contents. Had he read them before? He must have had. Or maybe he didn’t have time in his busy schedule to review every single applicant. But, then again – why invite Jon for a meeting?

“Why do you want to study Divination, Mr Sims?” Bouchard asked.

This question, Jon knew to expect. He managed to recite his well-rehearsed answer with no incriminating pauses or unnecessary repetitions. Finally.

“What about practical spellwork?” Bouchard asked.

Jon paused for a second. “I don’t—I’m not really well-versed in that area. I prefer theory to practice.”

“Did you take any of the relevant courses?”

Damn. Damn.

“I, uh,” Jon stammered. “I took one semester of the introductory module. It was—well—it wasn’t a subject I wanted to pursue.”

Let that be it, Jon thought. Obviously it came up; it had to come up. Very few people enrolled at the Institute to study theory.

“Can you show me what you have learned?”

“I didn’t learn anything,” Jon said sharply. He flinched, then, at the tone of his voice, and at the implications – that he was too lazy or too stupid to learn. It made him look exceedingly unprofessional. “I meant—I don’t see how this is relevant to the position I’m applying for,” he amended. Then, hastily: “Master.”

“A peculiar question,” Bouchard said. “You yourself wrote several paragraphs on the potential interference of errant magic on pre-existing enchantments.”

“I do not use magic,” Jon said. “I won’t be causing any interferences.”

“Even so. Accidents happen.”

“They won’t.” Jon grabbed his sleeve and shoved it upwards, exposing his wrist, and the thin, silver bracelet encircling it, with its webbing of faintly pulsating strands. “Whatever magic I might accidentally use will be fully suppressed. It’s not going to be a problem.”

Bouchard was watching him attentively, gaze flickering between the bracelet and Jon’s face. He didn’t seem surprised; was it written down somewhere in Jon’s file, then? Or did he have some other means of detecting such objects? Some mages were reportedly able to sense the subtle alterations in a person’s aura, the miniscule difference between absent and suppressed magic, even without the relevant spells or implements. But Jon could hardly believe those reports. They seemed rather far-fetched.

“May I?” Bouchard asked. His meaning became clear when he leaned forward and extended his hand, palm up, inviting. Jon examined it, warily. Was he expected to remove the bracelet? Bouchard wasn’t expecting him to do something that foolish, did he?

It seemed rude to keep him waiting, though. And Jon was on thin enough ground as it was. So, slowly, he placed his hand on the desk, within range of Bouchard’s touch.

He couldn’t help flinching in his seat when the man’s long, slender fingers brushed his bare skin. Bouchard’s hand was warm, textured with callouses, scars and imperfections; its movements were clever and purposeful, as he examined the bracelet. He wasn’t using magic, as far as Jon could tell. Or maybe he was, and it was too subtle for Jon to notice.

“Remarkable,” Bouchard said under his breath.

Jon slipped his hand from the man’s hold and drew back, tugging the sleeve down, nearly to the level of his knuckles, to make sure the thing was completely covered. He didn’t want to meet Bouchard’s gaze. Mostly, he just wanted to go home.

[fiannalover]

Public relations

(Content warning: drugging, second person POV)

7 a.m. classes suuuuuuuck.

Trying to ignore your bad life decisions, you focus on just looking around at the people already waiting for class alongside you. No one too fancy, no one who stands up too much.

With one exception.

Fluffy, long black hair, preppy shirt and skirt in low-key, cozy colors. Such a perfect girl next door vibe, it feels unreal. 

And then it becomes unreal in a different way, as she holds a beaker to her face, swirls it around a bit, seems unhappy with it, puts it to the side, grabs a mortar and begins to energetically pestle something in it.

“I’m sorry. What are you doing?”

“Chemistry.” She answers, with the specific tone of voice that carries a hidden ‘obviously’. “I really need to get this done, so I’m prepping some things before the teacher stops by. My name is Medeia, by the way. Since you kindly asked.”

Oh. You never talked to her, but you’re pretty sure you saw her running all over the place through the previous year. She joined a couple semesters after you did, most likely, but already had quite the reputation. “You’re that magician girl.”

“Potion maker, not magician. The distinction is meaningless, but it matters to me.” She stresses, like you know a single thing she is talking about.

At that point, the professor arrives, and she openly leaves it clear she’ll apply full focus to that. Eh, so be it.

—----------

“Why bother with doing that? Isn’t magic bullshit worthless?”

“As I so kindly keep telling you, and you so kindly keep ignoring, it is not magic. Just potions.” She reaffirms. “And I find your ignorance very interesting when, amongst others such students, one of your underclassmen is a recently shifted werewolf, just as an immediate example.”

“There is one of those here? Gross. Not like that interests me, so I don’t bother to learn about it.”

The girl’s eyebrow raises inquisitively in response to that. “I’m sorry. What major are you doing again?”

“P.R.”

“Ah. Figures. Don’t worry, I’m sure you'll sell yourself off real quick.” She snarks, before opening her bag, picking a small sachet of some mysterious powder, and letting the substance fall into her water bottle. “You should be careful. Ignorance opens many blind spots. Before long, one of them will make use of your confidence in a way you’ll be lucky to live to regret.”

“Is that a threat?”

“It is a warning.”

“Hum. Perhaps if you try to teach me what I’m mi-”

“I have a girlfriend.” She said, shutting down your move with zero hesitation. Tsk. Boring girl. What was up with that holier than thou attitude.

“Of fucking course you do. Well, the faeric shit you seem to like was trouble for my grandma’s time not today. We’re the ones to rule the world nowadays.” She hums while shaking her bottle, leaving it clear she has no interest in the topic. “What are you even doing, anyway? Love potion? Mercury? Magic acid?”

“Lemonade. Non alcoholic. Just water and lemon juice powder.”

You blink. “That’s it?”

“I'm thirsty. The fact I know a thing or two of alchemy does increase my appreciation of it, though. The mundane strengthens the awe of the fantastical, and that inspires the beauty of the former. One way or another, the more you know, the better you see the dangers in both.” She matter of factly answered, taking a sip with joy. “Hum, I should add an extra pinch of sugar next time. Maybe make it from scratch and figure out how to add honey.”

—-------------

Your mouth is salty.

You try to soothe it with some more beer, but it only makes it worse, somehow. Something is wrong. Something is… weird.

You get up from the bar’s table and wobble your way out. The music and cheering feel like howls to your throbbing head, specters hovering around you while you’re unable to make out any distinguishing qualities. Eventually, you’re out on the street, with the cacophony of the party replaced by the all encompassing madness of the moonlight.

The car… I gotta get to my car.

Each step feels heavier and more unstable, as if your blood had turned into pure lead. You turn a corner, then another, unsure of your directions, until you can determine two things.

This street is deserted.

There is someone here.

Your body gives up on sustaining itself, falling to the ground. You probably should be worried about how you felt no pain at all from the impact, but that comes as a relief right now.

… Hrgh… red. 

Looking ever slightly forward, struggling to keep your eyes open as the trail of color goes on, you see someone in front of you. You can't really make any characteristics, but the person's mouth is wide open.

You must be dreaming. No one has teeth that sharp and sparkly white, is all you can think of as it leans towards you.

"Back off!"

A brown object swings towards the mystery person, and you can't quite make sure if it hit or not. You think you see something thrown in its direction, and before long some girl kneels by your side.

"O- ourse- you." Your ears fail you. You're so sleepy… "Drink- ow."

Something is pressed to your lips, reminding you that it still feels like pure salt is coating your tongue. Unable to resist, you open wide and begin drinking.

It's sweet. So delightfully, amazingly sweet. Somehow, all you felt these last couple minutes of pain fade away, shifting into a pleasant dream.

Yes… you can fall asleep, finally… So thick and syrupy… like honey…

—-------

You wake up the next day on your dorm's couch.

Jerks. Might as well have tossed you on your bed.

You react with confusion over your flatmates' tease about your latest fling, and the fact you think your headache isn't as bad as it should be. Your face feels itchy too. Are those scratch marks and bandaids? What the hell went on-

Reaching for your pocket, you feel something in it which most certainly wasn't there before. Taking it out, you see a paper napkin in which, alongside a phone number, was scribed:

Medeia Camille

Potion Maker and student, here for your needs.

You open your bedside table's drawer and throw the paper in, memories of a night that never happened beating from behind a curtain of wood.

[bakafox]

The problems are not inherently the genre

Look. I don’t want it to become a back and forth thing with the original thread/post going on forever but I Have Strong Opinions about creative writing classes and professors.

I absolutely have had and met very pretentious and classist creative writing professors who banned genres, particularly fantasy and sci-fi, because they felt such ‘popular fiction’ was simply cheap, uncreative, and low-brow.

BUT- even if that is not why a professor is banning such things:

1)- If the professor is just tired of a particular genre because it seems to be all anyone writes, there are ways to encourage students to write other stories without there being a blanket ban, or a ban even just on the end of the year final.

1b)- The final should be the assignment that students should have carte blanche for, after PREVIOUS assignments have made them explore a variety of styles and genres. The final is where students use everything they have hopefully learned during the semester to try and write the best dang thing they’ve written for the class to date, and whether they want an elf in it or not, (or a happy ending, yeesh,) shouldn’t be a line in the sand... which brings us to:

2)- If by the end of a semester, a professor hasn’t been able to help their students to a point where whatever genre the students want to write as a final, they feel NO ONE IN THE CLASS will be able to write a certain genre of their own choice well enough to pass... that sounds like it might be partially a ‘you’ problem, Professor. Kind of like those professors who brag that almost no one passes their class because they are so challenging and difficult in general.

Like... hm, maybe some students will in fact write bad and bland fantasy still =(

But really, really, are those students who will write a banger if it’s just anything but fantasy, by the end of an entire class that should have been teaching them how to push past being lazy in anything they wish to write? It is not an essay class, this is not randomly handed out paint-by-numbers kits, what the student wants to actually write is, in fact, important.

If the professor finds themselves flooded with a bunch of students who just want to write the next/better Harry Potter, maybe even because that’s all they’ve ever thought about or looked at before, then a lesson plan should be modified to try and get them to look beyond the boundaries without implying that the problem with them never having looked beyond fantasy or a single series of books or one specific trope set is just fantasy itself being the problem.

2b-3)- I am sorry but there is no way to not see a very defeatist attitude in a ban on a genre, if the class is not specifically to write some other genre but is a blanket creative writing class.

“I don’t want any fairies or magic or dragons or fantasy in your final” does, in fact, mean “I see no way any of you will write anything I would ever want to read involving these things.”

Whether it’s because the professor believes fantasy is cheap and low class, or believes all their students have been sleeping in class and not learning anything that they can apply to a story involving any of the banned things, to make something that can pass, much less that might be very good, it really isn’t a good look.

[feijoaaas]

tldr this is me asking for financial help

since billionaires are billionaires because they do not share their wealth, and tweeting at them and trying to contact them through their companies or their foundations only to receive the reply that they do not help private people, or no reply at all

i’m giving this a go for the last time, and taking the bold step of asking help from maybe the biggest fan base on here, even tho i really don’t want to be asking for help

here is my gofundme and at the most i am asking for $2500 which is less than what i’ve lost to the stock market ($3400 in total but i’m not asking for all that because i just want to be debt free and have enough for rent and bills, i realise it’s a privilege to have had that much money to lose and it’s a lesson learned that no one else should pay for), it’s partly a debt that i want to be free from, two debts actually, one is a high interest loan which is the one i am most keen of being rid of, of $1000 and one is a private debt to a friend of $500

and then my monthly expenses are $500, i currently don’t have a job but i do have a fuck ton of anxiety, self doubt, harmful thoughts and a self esteem that’s gone to fuck for a whole slew of reasons, i want to study a uni course of english this autumn and i’ve applied to several courses but i didn’t pass all my exams this spring semester so i am missing several credits which i need to make up for before i can be granted another student loan which could take a couple months

i can’t ask someone i know personally, partly because i don’t really know anyone with good enough finances to help me out, and those that maybe could help me i don’t want to ask because of the whole shame of it all like i’ve already been bullied all through 9 years of school and felt like a failure and a mistake and like no one would miss me if i were to suddenly disappear so i can’t really bare to say that due to many underlying reasons i’ve lost all my money and gotten myself into debt as well like what a sure fire way to never again be able to speak to that person without feeling like a useless fuck, like if my mom knew this she would make me feel like shit for the entire rest of my life and she would berate me to no end, she already berates me when i do things well or when i’m proud of things nothing is ever enough for her

so yeah…….. if there’s like 500 swifties out there that can spare $5 each or 1000 swifties that can spare $2,5 each or even more of you that can spare even less, it would literally mean the world to me in so many ways i can’t even describe

i’ve had i don’t know how many nights of waking up in cold sweats because this debt and not having enough for rent and bills have been stressing me out even in my sleep

i’m hoping that in a year from now i’ll have a job and hopefully be on add medicine or be studying and managing it and even if i can’t pay you back personally i’ll be right here to help out the next swiftie in need, or anyone, obviously

i just thought it would be best to direct this at a group that a, is awesome and b, is probably more generous and helpful than every single greedy billionaire out there

thank you in advance, thanks for reading and if you can help by donating it means the world and if you can help by reblogging that means so much as well 💗

[inkofamethyst]

October 27, 2022

AHA I HAVE DONE IT I HAVE CRAFTED A SCHEDULE THAT IS SO GOOD

I’ve spent the past week trying to find a class that fits nicely into my schedule to give me that sweet sweet 12-13 credits without a Friday meeting and I found one and from previous grade data 80% of people get an A and everyone loves the prof.  This is good because the other two academic classes I’m doing next semester will not be easy per se and all three are on the same day (I should have learned my lesson from this semester but three classes is better than four), but having a (supposedly) chill morning class will be nice.  ~So~ I’ve got a Monday discussion, three TuTh classes where I’m in after breakfast and out for a late lunch, and that’s it.  I mean I’m also TAing for credit and doing research for credit, so even though I’ll technically have WF “off,” I’ll (probably) use that time to do other things (and to chill.  lots of chilling.).

The one I found is a class about how people learn which I think will be useful to know as a TA and a possible future teacher/professor/museum educator.  I know I was thinking about a choir class, but those require way too much time for a single credit.  I was considering a 2-credit dance class, but I think I have to reconcile with the fact that I’m just not a dancer, and something like that could be really frustrating for me if I couldn’t “get it” while all of the dance majors had no problem.  One of these days I will learn to dance.  A while ago I also considered taking a bioanth class through the consortium, but I’m tired, so.. no.  Like if I was going straight into a job or something then maybe, but I’m going to spend the next 5-7 years learning, hopefully in a department with plenty of bioanth classes, and I think I deserve a bit of downtime.  I also considered TAing for a straight up bio class, but nah.  I’m content with what I’ve cooked up.  Registration in a little under a week, let’s goooooo!

On another note, I had another meeting, and it went really well, so something about Monday’s was just off.  Am I gonna waste $200 on an application for that program so I don’t burn bridges?  Eh, probably.  hhhhhhh.  One more to go.  Anyway, uhm, even though I’m looking at two labs at that school, I feel like my best bet for getting in would be to apply to work with the lady I just met... tbh even if I like the other guy’s lab better.  This lady is brand spankin new faculty, no grad students (lots of time for ~me~) compared to the other guy who is more established and has two students and even warned me that he may not be able to take one next year (she might be prioritized for receiving students).  Plus, collaborations are apparently huge there, so... if what I’m looking for is an acceptance above all else?  That may be the way to go.

And on a related note, tiktok has taken to showing me videos of people saying to not get a PhD.  I... don’t exactly... I can’t express in words how that makes me feel?  Disheartened, nervous, a little more determined?

Last thing: I’ve been putting off this one essay that’s due tomorrow (today) because I am tired and also feel like I could write it quickly.  The only problem is that I have two other things also due tonight because my weekly work schedule fell apart when I had two two-class-Tuesday/Thursdays in a row and deadlines were pushed back (and now they’re all converging).  Not to mention the supplemental work I’ve got to do for my research and the papers I need to find for this grant thing I need to write this weekend.  Only six more weeks.  Anyway I do think that (once I start writing) I could finish it in a maximum of three hours (I’m actually thinking closer to two, but I’ll give myself an extra hour because I always underestimate work time).  Does that mean tomorrow is going to suck for me?  Yes, yes it does!

Today I’m thankful for uh for ground ginger, actually.  While I probably put waayyy too much of it in my curry (I also overcooked my shrimp and nearly burnt my rice..), it’s probably some of the best curry I’ve made.

okay enough procrastinating I’m finally off to do my stupid homework.  senioritis ain’t a joke.

[edit: I actually went to sleep and woke up early (pro tip: doing this can work if you schedule your wakeup 1.5, 3, 4.5, or 6 hours after you fall asleep, so you hit those full REM cycles, but doing it often is no bueno para tu salud) and I’m pretty close to being done, I think]

[edit 2: finished in... three and a half hours.  it... I mean it is submitted and that’s a win but I haven’t done either of my discussion boards :/  gotta get on those]

[teachlong]

Growing up macklemore intro guitar

#GROWING UP MACKLEMORE INTRO GUITAR FULL#

Rudimental is an eclectic quartet of musicians known for a catchy blend of fast-paced dance music and soulful vocals from a rotating cast of guest singers. “But then my record label says, ‘It’s not right for your project, maybe you should give it to Rudimental.’ I played it for the guys and they’re like, ‘Yep, we’ll take that.’” “When you're working at Abbey Road Studios, you've gotta bring ya Mum.”“I wrote the song for myself, really,” he says. One of them was “These Days,” a rollicking kiss-off anthem for faithless lovers that shifts mid-song to a lament about the difficulty of finding human connection in the big city. In 2017, he started work on a full-length album and released a handful of polished singles. In 2016, he released a second EP, Badman, further refining his soul-meets-chamber-music sound. He performed on an album by the English singer-songwriter George Ezra. Since signing with Atlantic, Caplen has been on a tear. “I realized everything sounds a little better with a bit of strings on it. It’s way cheaper than getting the proper guys in,” he jokes. As a singer, producer, and multi-instrumentalist, Caplen says he’s hands on in the studio, right down to the string tracks. That recording caught the attention of Atlantic Records, who signed him a year later.

#GROWING UP MACKLEMORE INTRO GUITAR FULL#

He wasn’t yet working in music full time, but he was on his way.Ĭaplen spent the next two years recording more mash-ups and working on a self-produced four-song EP, Epiphany, which he released in 2014 under the name D/C. “I played it as my end-of-semester project, and my friends were like, ‘Put it up online!’” Three months later, Caplen had a manager. “I made this makeshift studio in my house by Market of Choice, and I recorded this thing,” Caplen recalls. It’s an energetic composition, resonant with strings and Caplen’s baritone voice. His first post was his final project for Leonard’s electronic music production class: a medley of music by four established artists-SBTRKT, Kid Cudi, Labrinth, and No Doubt-with his own vocals accompanied by rich layers of cello, hand claps, and instrument tapping. He started a Twitter account and a YouTube channel. When he returned to Portland for senior year, he was ready to start building his identity as an artist. He’s worth keeping around.’”Īfter completing his junior year, Caplen spent the summer interning at a London record company and writing songs. He told the powers that be, ‘Nah, he’s just in his basement recording and writing songs. “At one point, I was in danger of losing my music scholarship, because I was having trouble getting to orchestra. He’s deserving of all his success.”Ĭaplen credits Leonard as a major influence on his music and career. “He writes great hooks, really memorable melodies, and good lyrics. “The music business is very often not a meritocracy, but Dan’s got the goods,” Leonard says. But he also worked on producing his own music under the tutelage of music instructor Jeff Leonard, a bass player and composer who directs the college’s electronic music program. “During the flight on the way over, I thought I was going to Maine.”Īt Lewis & Clark, Caplen majored in psychology and played in the college orchestra and jazz ensemble. “I didn’t actually know where Portland was,” he jokes. It will cost less to go there than it will to university here,” Caplen says. “I thought, you know what, I’ll just go over there. He applied to Lewis & Clark at the urging of a family friend who attended the school in the 1980s. It seemed like an impossible dream.” That Caplen’s dream is becoming reality is no accident-it’s the result of years of hard work, dating back to his college years and before.Ĭaplen was born in England and grew up in Hong Kong and Kent, studying piano and cello on his own time and vocal music at St. “I never thought anyone could make money out of music. “I thought I was going to be working in a bank or something,” Caplen says. But to hear him tell it, he never expected to find a career in music. Caplen is, suddenly, a notable presence in British pop. The video for the song has been viewed more than 130 million times on YouTube. singles chart for 11 weeks, peaking at No. As of mid-April, the track had been near the top of the U.K. The 26-year-old wrote and contributed vocals to “These Days,” a hit for the British drum and bass group Rudimental. This spring, in the streets of London, the voice of Dan Caplen BA ’12 proved inescapable. (Robin Little/Redferns, Getty images)Dan Caplen BA ’12 For two young alumni, one of the keys has been to take their unique musical sounds abroad ―to the U.K. If you Google “tips for breaking into the music business,” you’ll instantly garner millions of hits. Dan Caplen BA ’12 and Ian Hooper BA ’08 create chart-topping hits abroad.ĭan Caplen BA ’12 performs live at O2 Academy Brixton in London on April 6, 2018.

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Can I please request a single dad au. Maybe where Minho has a little girl and you are the nanny and eventually after a lot of angst the two of you fall for one another?

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Minho

Genre: single dad AU

Word Count: Oops. I didn’t check, but it’s definitely less than 4k.

Warnings: Soft Smut? Lol is that a thing?

It was midnight again when Minho came home. 

When you first started babysitting for him, he was always prompt, walking through the front door at 9:00 PM with a smile on his face. But then his ex-wife started to demand more child support, and Minho was forced to take extra hours at the office. He always promised that he would never work late, but he usually stayed out most of the night, and you let him get away with it because you were attached to his daughter and he paid you more than what you deserved.

But you were in your last semester of college, and there was a lot you needed to get done to ensure your graduation. 

You tried to work at his house whenever he required your services, but it was difficult when his kid was still awake, rushing through the halls and demanding most of your attention. Usually, you simply relented and saved whatever progress you had made on job applications before following her into the playroom. 

It was no use getting ahead, and you sighed in relief when the door opened, inviting Minho inside with a haggard appearance.

You ignored the uneasiness in your stomach at the sight of him, gathering your things together to brush by him on the way out. “Nora went to bed at 10,” you explained to him, struggling to put on your coat. “I left you some food in the fridge.”

You reached out to take the door, but you found yourself halting in place when Minho snatched your hand.

“Y/N,” Minho said softly, stopping you in the frame on your way out. “I’m sorry.”

You forced a smile. “It’s alright.”

“No,” Minho frowned. “Seriously, I’ve been keeping you-”

“I promise that it’s fine,” you insisted, interrupting him because you were in a rush. “I should get home...”

“It’s late,” Minho said, nodding his head toward the living room. “Why don’t you just stay here tonight?”

You hesitated, knowing better than that after the last time, but the look in his eyes was enough to melt your defenses, shrugging off your coat and accepting his offer for a warm cup of tea.

You settled in front of the TV to wait for him, staring at the blank screen and thinking about all the last-minute assignments you needed to finish. The deadlines and reminders were scrolling through your head like the end credits following a movie. But there wouldn’t be a good ending for you if you didn’t start putting aside more time for applications...

“Y/N,” Minho interrupted, dropping down next to you. “Your favorite.”

You smiled, accepting the cup from him, bringing it your lips for a taste. “Thanks,” you said, resisting a moan as the warm beverage slid down your throat.

“No problem,” Minho replied, tossing an arm behind you on the couch. “It’s the least I can do.”

You hummed around another delicious sip. “Do you mind if I use the shower?”

“Not at all!” Minho said, and he brought his lower lip between his teeth, bothering the skin as he seemed to be preparing his next words. “Y/N, do you remember what we talked about the other day?”

You shivered, lowering your tea and sitting up straighter. “You mean, moving in here full time after my graduation?”

Minho nodded, looking at you with those impenetrable eyes. “Nora wouldn’t mind, and I think it might be nice to have you around more often.”

He was playing at the edges of a dangerous battlefield, and you didn’t have the heart to relive his disappointment yet again. “I’m applying to lots of jobs.”

“Right,” Minho said, chuckling awkwardly. “But maybe, like, on the weekends and stuff-”

“I wouldn’t just disappear,” you spoke over him. “That wouldn’t be fair to Nora.”

Or to you, you wanted to add.

“It’s just, I can’t have you leaving on me,” Minho said. “You’re too important.”

Flashes of hurried kisses and wandering hands seared your mind in an inescapable prison. “I’ll always stay in touch.”

But it wasn’t enough for him.

“You know...” Minho continued, clearing his throat. “After you’re finished with school, maybe you and I could-”

“I’m leaving after this month, Minho,” you blurted out, preventing him from proposing the very thing you had been afraid to hear.

“Leaving?” Minho repeated. “I thought you were still applying?”

“I found a lot of good choices upstate,” you said, plowing through the difficult part to breathe easier on the other side. “When I come back for holidays....maybe I can visit then.”

“S’ not enough for me, Y/N,” Minho said, and he started to grab your hand, but you immediately brushed him aside, lowering your cup onto the coffee table before rushing down the hall and into the bathroom.

Minho’s smile used to be full of life, and you were often the cause of it.

But in the weeks following your announcement, Minho’s smiles were as rare as the most precious diamonds.

You felt horrible about breaking it to him the way that you did, but you had no choice. He needed to know where you stood because there was no more chasing the scandalous temptation of Minho + Y/N. From now on, it would simply be Minho and Y/N, not together as a singular unit, nothing more and nothing less.

It’s what you kept telling yourself over and over again to make it easier to see him when you babysat or visited the house. 

The same mantra you chanted to yourself when his ex-wife came over and frowned at you with a suspicious scowl. 

The lying words you gave your heart when it somersaulted inside your chest at the mere sight of him.

Your future lay somewhere beyond the small town where you were from, and your tedious brain couldn’t process the thought of the future lying with someone whose best days were already behind them.

Someone who had already experienced the kind of whirlwind romance that your wildest imagination had only dreamed about when you read cheesy novels or watched movies with powerful endings. Even if Minho’s marriage had ended on a sour note, you had listened to him talk about that relationship, and there was a point where both parties loved one another more than anything else.

You wanted it for yourself, and there’s no possibility of finding it with someone who had their heart broken.

Right?

You were troubled by these sorts of thoughts holding you back from fully embracing your determination to leave, especially when you secured several interviews in cities you could barely pronounce that were so far away from your rural existence. 

You could hardly fathom it.

Your focus should not be on Minho....yet, you continued to babysit for him, and you continued to visit uninvited on the weekends, laughing together as you watched movies with him and his daughter, cooking meals together in the kitchen, and even, on occasion, indulging him in the bedroom. 

Holding back your moans from escaping the barrier of the walls, letting him muffle your lips with his hand, keeping your legs spread wide every time he fucked you. 

It’s just for stress relief, Minho explained when you startled awake the morning after your first night in his bed - freaking out over the mistake you had just made, but allowing Minho to reassure you that nothing bad would happen, and that you did him a big favor by taking his mind off work...

But was it still just for stress relief? After all these times together?

It felt like a lie to say that, watching the exertion on Minho’s face as he kept thrusting his cock into your wet cunt, whispering sweet little adorations while sweat pooled in thin rivulets down the sides of his temples. 

He might be pushing thirty-years-old, but Minho was still more than capable of keeping up with your own high sex drive, pushing you to limits that you had never encountered before until you met him.

Until you felt his cock stretching you so good, and the talent in his hips as they ground and moved against your own.

Your eyes fluttered at the reminder, and he groaned your name when he came that night, reaching down to finish you off as well, tongue clashing with yours to swallow every sound as pleasure coursed through all the veins and arteries decorating your skin. 

It left you reeling for more, wincing when he pulled free with a loud squelching sound, giving you a tender kiss before tucking his spent cock back into his sweatpants.

You watched him stand up from the bed, shuffling his feet as he entered the bathroom, and it only took a moment or two for the shower to start, and there was a small sliver of light escaping into the dark bedroom.

You realized that he left the door open just a crack - an obvious invitation - but you didn’t join him this time. 

Too busy collecting your thoughts - and your breath - as you painstakingly went through all the little details - your moments together with Minho ever since you had first noticed that he no longer looked at you like the college kid who took care of his daughter....

You shivered when your mind supplied you with an image of his dark eyes. The ones that were reserved only for you, holding the greatest amount of affection. Like you meant more to him than you should...

“Guess what.”

His voice broke through your thoughts, drawing your eyes to him walking back into the room, towel wrapped around his waist and hair mussed from the water. 

“What?” you croaked, trying not to ogle his chest too much. 

“I found something amazing for you,” Minho said, and he was pulling out his phone, fingers smashing at the buttons. “It’s a position that I think you’ll like...”

Oh no.

“Minho...” you started, but he spoke over you.

“The company is run by a friend of mine,” he said. “I think it would be perfect for you, right? It’s everything you’ve talked about wanting to do.”

It was true, and you understood well enough that this was Minho’s way of trying to keep you here without explicitly saying so. 

“I’ve already lined up several interviews,” you said, and you could see the shift in Minho’s expression as he tried a different approach.

“I told my friend you would at least send your resume. Don’t you think it might be worth it?”

For the first time in a while, you felt a surge of annoyance toward Minho. “You told him I would send it without asking me first?”

He winced, realizing his mistake. “Y/N,” he sighed, and his entire demeanor changed as he sat next to you on the bed, reaching out to cover both of your hands into his own. “Please don’t leave,” he whispered, and you were shocked by the bluntness of his words. “Stay here with me.”

Silence followed his request, and all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

You declined Minho’s invitation to spend the night, anxious to return home where you could think without him around.

The pressure of finding your place, which you had thought would never involve Minho, was suddenly all-encompassing, and you found yourself at a cross roads that you never anticipated coming upon.

Staying with Minho, in the way that he wanted, meant accepting the fact that the news of your coupling would spread like a wildfire throughout your small town. You would be met with disapproval everywhere, especially from your own parents who had always encouraged your dreams to move on to bigger and better things. 

It was becoming a matter of choosing your brain over your heart, and you weren’t a fan of clichés.

The idea of choosing between these two radically different paths consumed you, and you hardly slept that night, knowing that you had an interview scheduled tomorrow for a company nearly two hours away in one of the biggest cities you had ever seen. 

When the sun greeted you the next morning, your eyes were crusted over with sleep, and you were no closer to an definitive solution than when you had first begun.

You still managed to get up, shuffling into the shower and putting on your best clothes in anticipation of looking professional for the interview. 

You still forced yourself downstairs to eat some breakfast, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to eat again for a while, and then you grabbed your car keys and stumbled to your car outside.

Where you sat behind the steering wheel, fingers drumming against the leather, as you looked out across the empty street. 

If felt like you were moments away from either making the biggest mistake of your life, or choosing the right path to lead you to the place that you had only dreamed about at night. 

Lying in bed and looking up at the ceiling while your mind supplied you with all the scenes of success.

But you realized that there were only two scenarios that could happen in real life:

1. You could stay here and be with Minho. The choice your heart favored.

Or,

2. You could go to your interviews, and inevitably face a radical transformation in your life. The choice your brain insisted on. 

But they were both challenging in their own ways. 

It was the most important moment of your existence, and you pursed your lips in silent thought, deciding that your mind was made up once and for all, and you started to drive towards the sun rising above the horizon.

The door opened with a silent creak, and you found yourself looking at him without any burden resting on your shoulders.

“Hi,” you whispered, waiting for him to make the next move.

“Y/N,” Minho said, shuffling closer to the doorframe. “I thought you had an interview?”

The question was laced with sadness, the disappointment of someone who thought they had lost, but you already knew the magic words to make it all go away forever. “I decided not to attend,” you said.

And Minho simply stared at you, mouth dropping open before he quickly recomposed himself. “Does that mean-”

“I’m staying with you,” you agreed, and your smile matched his own. The same Minho smile that you had missed seeing for so long.

Gone because of you, but brought back again because you had made the decision to rule your life according to your passions and desires. Not by any sort of logic or sense-making.

And it was all worth it to see the way his face lit up with the joy of seeing you standing in front of him. 

Bright and luminous. 

Just like his soul. 

And you were determined to remain next to his side.

[sunel0]

Something Dark Is Waiting in the Woods: Chapter 1

Masterpost • Next>

You can read it on AO3

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV)

Relationship: Theo Raeken/Stiles Stilinski

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Liam Dunbar, Mason Hewitt, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, Kira Yukimura, Nogitsune (Teen Wolf), Dread Doctors (Teen Wolf)

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Magical everyone but Theo, Possession, Background Relationships, Murder, Minor Character Death, they kill the DD okay it's fine, Familiars, Human Familiars, Under-negotiated Kink, or more like not negotiated but they are both into it, Hand Jobs, Light Dom/sub, Orgasm Denial, Familiar Bond, Aged-Up Character(s), They are in university

Words: Chapter: 4000/Total: 4000

Chapters: 1/11

Huge thanks to @amatchinwater for beta-reading!

***

Stiles sighed and slammed the book shut, immediately crossing his arms over it, and dropping his head on top of them, the picture of defeat. He let out a long sigh, and it was only a sigh just because he didn't want to be told off for screaming in a library.

Another useless day not getting him any closer to figuring out how to get rid of the fucking demon that possessed him was an extremely frustrating thing to experience even for Stiles, who was used to feeling frustrated.

Mostly with people.

Said demon chuckled somewhere in the back of his head, which didn't do anything better.

It was giving him nightmares that were slowly growing more and more intense and freaky and honestly fucked up, even by Stiles' low standards, and he was pretty sure that meant it was slowly unfurling its wings and getting stronger, which didn't bode well for him.

But apparently, Stiles' annoyance was hilarious, because he heard another vaguely demonic chuckle in his head.

He slammed it against the book a couple of times, keeping it quiet, before sitting up in one dramatic motion that almost threw him flying off the chair backwards, but he managed to catch himself just in time.

And that made Lydia chuckle.

Was this a new trend? Was everyone communicating with chuckles now just to frustrate Stiles even more? As if he didn't have enough shit to figure out on his hands already.

He rubbed his forehead. He didn't have time for anxiety-induced, absolutely unrealistic conspiracy theories right now, he had real issues to deal with. The whole thing was getting out of hand. It had been almost three weeks. He had to have found something already.

But it seemed like there was literally nothing about exorcizing a demon in any of the books they could possibly get from the library. And they got pretty much anything even remotely relevant, he checked twice and almost fought one of the librarians over this.

Maybe he should look for a better library? But the closest magical library that would grant him access from here was in something like four hours, and Stiles didn't really have time for that with the northward equinox eleven-day break coming up. Stiles had no idea how they counted how many days to give them each year, because it seemed bizarre to have eleven days for a single day, but it is what it is. It was just an old tradition after all.

"Here's a thought. Maybe next time don't talk back to a sentient tree you accidentally stumbled upon in a forest you were forbidden from entering in the first place?" Lydia fixed a perfect curl on her head looking into her little compact mirror.

Stiles wondered if she even saw the whole curl in the tiny piece of glass while glaring at her, trying to render everything he felt in one good look.

"I asked you to come with me to help me research, not judge!"

"And I said that I was going to hang out with you because I didn't want to go to my boyfriend's game."

Stiles sighed. He missed doing team sports, but since the start of the semester he had to drop even his beloved boomwhacker club, which he adored, and only gave it up because of too much schoolwork.

His college sports career wasn't looking good either. Nothing about his school life looked good at the moment, if he was being honest.

"And I didn't stumble upon it, I knew where I was going," he mumbled, annoyed, scratching at the cover of a book l.

He still did appreciate Lydia driving all this way over to hang out with him, even if just not to go to Jackson's game when Jackson had been being an asshole.

Because everyone knew that Lydia was always the best cheerleader for her man. If he deserved it.

He sat up, almost throwing his chair backward, and said louder, so Lydia could hear:

"I would appreciate a bit of support in these daring times! Who wouldn't go into a forest knowing that there's a sentient tree in there?! Especially when it's explicitly forbidden without any good reasons given! I'm majoring in Nemeta, I had to know what I'm talking about!"

Lydia hummed, clicking the compact shut.

"I'm pretty sure it's only you. Maybe Mason, but the tree has been there for hundreds of years and I haven't found anything about anyone getting possessed there. And you knew that it's basically impossible to get to a real Nemeton anyway, you should have thought about it in advance."

Stiles made a wide gesture with his hands.

"See, you can't say for sure that no one has ever gone there! Just that they didn't get possessed. Or maybe they did, but it's a terrible media campaign for a university, so now we will never know."

Lydia just looked at him, her expression that of a Catholic nun waiting for a secular person to understand the wrongness of their ways.

Stiles made a face back at her. There was nothing wrong about talking to a tree, especially if that tree could talk to you back. Even though you didn't understand it, so it might have told you to fuck off.

The demon purred quietly. That blew all of whatever fun the bickering brought Stiles away immediately. Throwing a demon at someone was probably very much a 'fuck off' gesture.

Stiles had to figure out a way to get rid of it before it found a way to get rid of him. He wasn't going to let the tree win. Or the demon.

"Have you tried talking to it?" Lydia asked, paging through an Enochian dictionary.

Stiles scowled.

"What?"

"Have you…"

"No, I understood the question. Why the hell would I talk to it? It's a fucking demon possessing me, what would it say to me? 'Give me blood and souls of virgins?' I only have bagels anyway."

"You went to talk to a tree."

"And look where it got me. Almost as if I went out once and got pregnant. We're not negotiating with terrorists."

Lydia looked thoughtful.

"No, I don't think it's like that at all, actually. Anyway. Maybe it doesn't want to be in your scrawny little human body as well and wants to go back home to its tree. You never know. You should ask it."

Stiles thought about it.

***

After the one night Lydia spent there, Stiles was alone in his house for the whole break. Scott, Liam, and Mason, with whom he normally shared it, were back at Beacon Hills, which put Stiles in a melancholy mood. He wanted to go home, too, to visit his dad, to bring flowers to his mom. Not to be stuck alone for a shit ton of time with only a demon in his head for company. A literal demon.

But Stiles didn't want to go home before he figured out what was happening with his possession in case the demon would like to start actually doing something. He wasn't going to endanger his family and friends like that. Well, more than was necessary. He didn't really have a choice to move out of the house away from his roommates. And he was still on the campus territory. But he assumed that a magical university was better equipped for handling these kinds of unorthodox situations than a town that was weird but had more supernatural creatures like Lydia and Jordan rather than witches like Stiles. Although there were more and more of them in recent years. There were more spontaneously born witches in Stiles' generation than there had been in the town in many, many years, it seemed, and no one was sure what it meant. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was some shit about natural magic migrating from place to place. Maybe there was something deeper. Stiles didn't really care.

What Stiles cared about was that, of course, the night he wanted to pull an all-nighter and dive deep into the books he got from the library, mostly to do literally anything rather than curl up on the bed and cry, he was alone at the house, and it was storming. The electricity went out, his phone connection was hardly there. He was reading another book on demons under the light of his flashlight. Holding it with his teeth, how his dentist had repeatedly told him not to do. He would've used a spell, but stable lighting spells required stable background focus, and that was not Stiles forte.

But who needed teeth if they were going to die a slow painful death anyway? Stiles' favorite potential way to go, obviously.

It was a wonder that he still had a flashlight at all, if he was being honest. So he had to get all the use out of it, including ruining his teeth while he jumped from the rumble of thunder or a flash outside. It was dark outside and he could see trees, their shaking in the wind in this light making them look like a crowd in a club. The whole glass door leading to the tiny patio that he was sitting near was going to be covered in droplet stains, and Stiles hated those.

He burrowed deeper into his pillow-and-blanket nest, tugging the hood of his hoodie lower onto his head. At least he was warm and cozy here inside on the carpeted floor and had literally no reason to go out there.

Some people probably had.

Stiles felt sorry for them.

And he felt sorry for himself.

The research still wasn't going great. It wasn't going at all, really. Right now Stiles sat with four different books around him, constantly having to stop in order to check stuff in a dictionary (his Ancient Greek was shit, and he still couldn't comprehend why no one would translate any of it to this day; was it ‘I suffered, so you all have to, too' thing?), and literally the only reason he managed to get himself to do it was because he had absolutely nothing else to do, so he was stalling terribly. He could just go to sleep, but sleep meant nightmares. And he didn't feel that much at ease being alone in a storm in the dark to sleep, so research he did, even if his eyes were kind of threatening to close any minute.

Maybe he shouldn't have gotten that cozy.

Stiles had fought this battle many times, and this time he was going to win.

Technically he always had the option of actually doing his schoolwork as well, since he was actually going to university and everything. And he had some homework for the break that he should probably do. Eventually. But he was good enough at it anyway. One of the best in his year. Somehow, it was honestly sort of baffling even for Stiles himself since he kept doing things like that instead of studying. That being getting into the ley line forest near the campus (that was a magical nature preserve and anyone except maintenance weren't allowed to enter) to talk to the stump of the oldest tree in there – the local Nemeton – and get possessed by a freaking demon that apparently had been just hanging out there.

So Stiles would say that he had to cut himself some slack with schoolwork and focus on potentially saving his own life.

His actual work, however, was a different question, but Stiles had ‘no work past ten pm' rules in place for a reason.

Magical trees (or their stumps) were way more interesting than writing an article about which lawnmowers were better anyway.

On the one hand, Stiles knew that campus was specifically built near the forest on the cross of ley lines, power here was much stronger and almost palpable sometimes, during storms especially. Like today. He could almost feel it sparkle in the back of his throat.

On the other hand, one couldn't build a university campus full of university kids near such a cool place and actually expect everyone to just deal with the fact that they weren't allowed in there. Stiles was absolutely sure that he wasn't the first and he wasn't the last one to do that, even if Lydia and he couldn't find any evidence of that.

Even if literally every single one of his friends said that they didn't find it that interesting. Just a forest. Even Mason wasn't super excited, and Mason was super excited about literally blinking. It was like there was a spell on the forest.

Stiles considered checking it, but what spell would he use to check such a big territory for something like that? He probably didn't have enough power for something like that, anyway.

But Stiles felt like he couldn't sleep until he got to see it with his own two eyes. He couldn't even exactly say why.

There wasn't that much information about ley line forests in general, and the Nemeton was even more unique in current times.

There weren't that many left.

Stiles was going to specialize in Nemeta specifically, and he had absolutely no explanation about why he found them so fascinating.

There were also no notes about demons in Nemeta that Stiles knew of.

Stiles didn't even really understand what happened. Just one moment he was standing over the stump, hearing its breathy voice in his head or all around him all at once, not very clear and in a language he didn't understand, but it didn't stop him from asking questions; the next he woke up several hours later with a weird presence in the back of his mind.

The presence was generally chill at first. It didn't seem to be too aggressive, at least for now, willing just to be there and not bother Stiles too much.

Except for more and more terrifying nightmares.

Stiles didn't know much about demons, it wasn't his field of studies, but he was pretty sure they were supposed to be evil, and it did feel like it, so he didn't want to risk leaving the problem unattended.

So here he was, in the middle of a storm, in the dark, trying to find anything about his demon without literally any information to start from instead of studying or working. 1001 productive ways to fuck your own life according to Stiles Stilinski, a memoir.

The magic was buzzing in the air, making Stiles feel restless and like something was going to happen, the weird taste in his mouth making him swallow all the time, which was annoying.

He decided to think that this feeling meant that he was going to find something. Today was the day he made progress. A break-through.

But it was also making his ADHD kind of worse.

Stiles closed his eyes, letting his head fall back onto the couch behind his back.

There was a flash of lightning outside and then came thunder, making him jump again.

In the ringing quiet after that was only the murmur of falling rain hitting the pavement just outside the sliding glass door in front of Stiles. It was a terrible place to be during a storm, but Stiles wanted a pillow nest, and a pillow nest he made.

For a moment there was a lull in all the noise, and Stiles heard something weird.

There was a slight whining from the outside. Stiles sat up and listened closer.

There it was again, weak, and sad and hurt.

The feeling of something big happening grew in his chest, making Stiles' heart flutter.

He really didn't want to get out of his blanket, leave alone going outside, but it did sound like a hurt animal, and Scott would never forgive Stiles if he let a pet suffer like that.

He scrambled up, almost falling over his books, only being stopped by the glass door into which he slammed face first with a thud. When he finally managed to open the door, after the third time trying to grab the lock on it, he was stunned by how loud everything outside was, the rain, the wind, the farther-away thunder.

This glass had some good soundproofing it seemed. Stiles felt immediately disoriented, the wind blowing all around him into the house with a terrible whoosh, throwing his hood off, and cold rain immediately hitting his face, making him want to close his eyes.

After going back in and getting wrapped into all the blankets he could find like a burrito, that was.

Something big, black, and soaking wet suddenly appeared, seemingly out of nowhere because of how dark it was, next to him, and before Stiles had a chance to actually get scared, this something just pushed him aside and slithered into the house, immediately burrowing under Stiles' blankets with all of its wet… fur?

There was some more whining from under the nest somewhere, and Stiles slowly stepped inside, closing the door behind him, and cutting a lot of the noise off. He stepped closer to the mildly shivering and quietly whining pile. There was a huge black dog in Stiles' house, looking tired and hurt and very, very wet. It had its head on its front legs, laying on its belly, the nose hidden under the blanket Stiles was sitting under before.

"Hey buddy…" Stiles crouched down next to it, his heart beating hard.

A wild animal in the house was the last thing he wanted right now, but as soon as he got close to it, he felt a tugging in his mind, not like the demon, but like he suddenly came home, that warmth and comfort.

He had read about this feeling, even in scientific terms, and he had always suspected that he would feel it one day because he was strong enough, but he didn't think he was so strong he needed something that big, because, as he suddenly realized, this wasn't a dog, this was a whole-ass wolf.

There weren't even supposed to be any wolves around here, so this one must have made a long journey to get to Stiles.

But that was what they did, didn't they? Familiars would find their witch anywhere when the time came.

Because what Stiles felt was the connection to his familiar.

He placed a hand on the wolf's head, and it stirred a bit, opening its eyes, looking up at Stiles. Stiles could feel the warmth of the connection almost burning him for a second before settling into that buzzing current-like sensation under his skin.

He hoped it was going to settle, feeling this charged all the time could not be fun.

The wolf nuzzled into his hand.

"Are you hurt?" He said gently, scratching carefully behind the wolf's ears, trying to remember what he knew about familiars and healing.

Too bad the cell connection was down, otherwise he could've called Scott for advice. He didn't think he could do much for the wolf without electricity as well, but he also was pretty sure that now that it was with him it wasn't going to die and should heal faster. Familiars were very hard to kill in any other way than their witch taking too much of their life power, and Stiles wasn't doing anything.

The wolf didn't answer, but closed its eyes, rubbing its head against Stiles' palm.

There was another flash of lightning.

There was a whole puddle on the floor that was going to get into the floor soon, and some huge dirty wet pawprints. Stiles wasn't going to clean that up tonight, he understood with a mental sigh.

He had some new, much more interesting things to do.

The wolf was pretty big. Stiles knew that the size (and intelligence level, it was a complicated thing) of a witch's familiar depended on how strong they were going to be at their prime, and they came when the witch needed them the most, just found their person through magic somehow, and he had always thought that maybe he was going to get a dog, a small terrier or something, and it was the pinnacle of his dreams, but this was a whole wolf, and it was huge.

Then it stood up suddenly and shook, sending water splattering everywhere, including Stiles, then promptly plopping back down again, hiding its face back under one of the blankets.

"Well thanks for getting me wet," Stiles said, making a face. Everything smelled like a wet dog.

The wolf jerked an ear at him, its eyes closed, seemingly indifferent to the mess it made.

He heard wolves were hard to train, so he probably was in for some fun times now.

Another thing on his plate.

But this thing moved everything out of Stiles' mind immediately, it was even almost like the demon in his head decided to give him some time to live through every witch's childhood dream.

He got his familiar!

Stiles carefully sat down next to it petting its back. He just hoped that his presence was enough to heal his new familiar, because this was the best he could do at the moment. Scott had explained to him once that human medical spells didn't work right on animals sometimes, so Stiles didn't want to risk it. Plus he wasn't that great at them anyway. His specialty were various types of research spells.

Anyway, he wasn't exactly sure why he thought that his familiar was hurt at all, but it was the best thing he could use to explain the kind of wrongness about the wolf he felt now, that the initial pull of the connection settled a bit.

It was so weird to feel it at all, like another presence in the back of his head (yes, a second one), and he had only just found his familiar. What was it going to be later, when the bond grew stronger?

He shouldn't be able to actually feel all the feelings, but he was going to develop the sense of general ideas of how his familiar was feeling, he thought. He was going to find time to read up on that too.

Or forget about all of it and experience all of it organically. Yes, this sounded like the best plan right now, very in Stiles' own style.

"I'm sorry I can't do anything for you. Do you want some water? Are you hungry?" It hit him that he should probably set a bowl of water anyway, just in case, and maybe get some meat out of the (now useless) freezer to at least offer to the wolf in the morning, but as soon as was he was fully seated and before he got to stand up again, the wolf shuffled a bit, pushing Stiles onto his back and placing its front paws and head onto his chest, closing his eyes and sighing contently.

Those were heavy as hell.

Stiles chuckled. It was contagious, apparently.

"You just want to cuddle right now? Okay, we can cuddle." He bent awkwardly, placing a little kiss on the wolf's head.

He should've probably given it a bath first, he thought, scrunching up his nose immediately, but it was definitely tired and just wanted to sleep, it looked like, so Stiles could do that for now.

"You smell terrible by the way," like a ton of very wet and very dirty dog fur.

Stiles could see a paw print made lovely in fresh liquidly dirt on the front of his hoodie.

The wolf huffed, his ears twitching a bit, but didn't even think about moving, that was obvious. It found its spot, and it was going to use it.

Stiles guessed he was trapped now.

He could feel the wolf's heartbeat slowing down under his hand and its breathing becoming a calm, even rhythm, and then slowly started to slip into a dream himself.

The last thing he felt was the other presence in the back of his head stirring.

[stylesberries]

Masterlist

Last Updated: 07/07/21

Thank you guys so much for all the love that you’re giving my writings. It makes me so happy to know that they’re people who enjoy reading things I write. I will be definitely adding to this masterlist, so this is not all you’ll get from me ;) - Hamida

♥ - indicates fluff

✪ - indicates smut

☹ - indicates angst

Bundle Of Love ♥

Harry reflecting upon his love for Y/N.

Despite the fact that you’ve only been dating for a couple of months, he still knew you better than he knew himself. Every stir and every little sound you made in your sleep. To everyone before him they were just stirs and sounds, but for him they had a meaning. He never lets them slip without noticing. He watches your every move carefully to make sure that he makes you the happiest he possibly can and even if that is the case, he still does everything possible to make sure you’re even happier.

Call Me H ✪ ♥

You both walk straight to Harry’s hotel room because you can’t keep hands off of each other anymore. (Is a logical continuation to Stay With Me, but can be read separately.)

“You’re very sweet, Harry. There is just one problem.”

Your eyes become a bottomless well and Harry feels himself drowning in its waters. The curiosity grows in him when he hears mystery in the way the words leave your mouth.

“What problem?” He whispers innocently, his eyes darting at you.

“I really want to fuck you.”

City Lights ♥

Harry asks you a very important question as you drive through the streets of Rome.

The hand wrapped around your side, carefully going in circles, the repeating motions slowly soothing your anxiety.

Harry lowered his head and his lips touched the top of your ears. The warm breath created vibrations against your skin and sent a charge of electricity through your body.

I really love you.

Daddy ✪

Harry wins a Grammy. You weren’t able to be there. Or were you?

“Aren’t you coming in?” Harry asked Jeff as he exited the car, his hand wrapped under his new Grammy.

“I’m not. Enjoy the night, man. You deserve it.” Jeff spoke weirdly as he closed the door behind Harry and waved at him with a suspicious smile on his face.

“Enjoy my night? Don’t you want to come in and drink with me a bit befo-” Harry spoke as he watched the car with Jeff in it drive off.

Egocentric ♥ ☹

Memories of a fight with Harry overflow you, as you wander around the house and end up playing Fine Line on vinyl.

As the first few seconds of the song echoed through the room, I found myself being dragged into a different atmosphere. The one my mental state wouldn’t let me go in without crying.

All of the insecurities and doubts, that I have been overflown with, came over me and dragged me down with them.

Fireflies ♥

Harry has been acting weird for a couple of weeks, but when y/n finally finds out the truth, it’s far from what she assumed.

“Harry, what’s behind your back?” You asked straightforwardly.

He looked uncomfortable and seemed to have been taken aback by your question.

“It’s um-” He brought his hands forward. They held a black folder visibly full of papers. “It’s m’folder with song ideas.” He seemed unsure of the statement himself, but you put the blame on the fact, that he was left dumbfounded by your actions. What was that about though?

Flower Field ♥

Harry accidentally breaks his favorite guitar, which makes it an obvious choice of a present for his upcoming birthday.

“Is it small enough for me to carry it around?” Harry tried his best to guess what exactly you were getting him. He’d been like this since the early morning when you wouldn’t tell him what you’ve gotten for him.

“It’s not small, but you can carry it around.” It was the first question, for which your answer wasn’t exactly a “no”, so Harry smiled, thinking he’s finally onto something. The party took place in a closed down restaurant that you all would go to once in a while. There weren’t many guests. Just the closest friends. “Knowing Harry, it’s probably hundreds of people.” You thought.

Full Of You ✪

It’s your birthday and Harry has an idea of a birthday present.

Your thoughts were interrupted by Harry’s hold tightening around your body and his face snuggling into the crook of your neck. You whined, fighting for a couple more well-earned minutes of sleep.

“Nopies, bunny. Don’t whine at me. We have a long day ahead of us.” Harry excitedly informs you and lets his hands snake over your sides. Your boyfriend moves his mouth over to your ear and whispers this time. “It’s my love’s birthday today.”

Gucci Jumpsuit ♥

Harry pampering Y/N despite her attempts to stop him.

“They have the heels you love. The black ones, you know? They have those in pastel colours. Wouldn’t y’love that?”

“Harr-” I tried to say something in between his Ted Talk on why exactly I have to try those shoes he is talking about.

“And we could look for jeans f’you. You wanted wide leg jeans, remember?” He continued, without pausing even for a second.

Heat ✪

Your boi’s too vanilla for your liking. He refuted that tho.

As he filled you, even more tears started flowing. Your vision turned blurry and your head felt light. All you could feel was the stretch you craved so badly.

“Daddy, please fuck me.” Words leaving your mouth without a single thought in your head. You didn’t care that you’ve never got to ask him if he was actually into such things before, acting purely on instinct. All you wanted was to be filled. All you needed was the sensation of being penetrated by the man you loved.

Love On Tour ♥ ✪

Your parents are coming to meet him but you chose to keep it a secret.

“He deserves to know.” You thought. He was going to meet them today anyways. “He won’t have time to get too nervous, right?” You kept debating on whether or not you should tell him the truth.

Your brows furrowed and your lips were pressed tight together. Harry took a look down at you, and his brows creased as well.

My Princess ✪

You tag along with Harry to his Vogue shoot. The dress is definitely a turn on.

“Ah, please,” Harry whined, letting you wrap your arm around his waist holding him from running away from your wet tongue.

“Please what, baby?” You teased him further, running your nails against the wet trace along his spine.

“Please, touch me.” He begged, pushing his back against your chest in hopes that your arm would move a little lower and touch his crotch even though he knew how much you hated it when he wasn’t patient.

Rainbow Cardigan ♥ ✪

Harry loses his favorite cardigan. You learn how to knit. (Based on the JW Anderson cardigan knitting trend.)

“I cannot lose it. I can’t. What if it’s lost forever? How could I let it out of my sight?” The sight of him so genuinely saddened by the situation made you let out a sigh. You were full of compassion and understanding, trying to remember the last time you saw the poor cardigan. Failing to do so, you turned to your crushed boyfriend and tried to get information out of him.

Right Choice ✪

Harry has a moustache now and you want to get it sticky.

“I’m all for it, so it’s up to you.” Harry nodded and started applying the shaving cream onto his cheeks.

“Just know that you have to eat me out whenever you’re done here because I’m dripping.”

Shattered Glass ☹

You feel overwhelmed by intrusive thoughts and memories of traumatic events. Glass is shattered.

“Hm?” You let your eyes fall on his gentle and almost all-knowing expression.

“I said I know what you’re doing. You’re letting things get to you. I know you can’t stop the flow of thoughts but at least let me know what’s bothering you so I can try to help.” He spoke softly and chose every next word with care as he knew that if he picked the wrong words you would close off even more.

Stay With Me ♥

You meet Harry and fall in love to the art and architecture of Rome.

“You looked very passionate and I would love it if we could sit and discuss it maybe? I know it sounds weird coming from a stranger-” He paused.

“You bet, crazy man.” You thought to yourself and giggled softly, realizing that the possibility that this ball of nerves is a human trafficker is close to zero.

Vegan Cupcakes ☹

You and Harry have been quarantined together and he needs space.

Spending most of the spring together didn’t feel as suffocating for Harry as summer did. Your classes were over and you didn’t take a summer semester, so your time fully revolved around him. Which he liked.

In the beginning.

Until you clung on him like a koala for days and made him cuddle you all the time, which he enjoyed a lot until it became a routine. Harry couldn’t even tell you how he felt because it would hurt your feelings, so he didn’t say anything at all, keeping it all to himself.

Wooden Floor ☹ ♥

Reuniting with Harry after being apart during the quarantine made you realize something.

When I met Harry, and we started dating, I promised myself to give him space and not suffocate him with my love, for I was scared, that he would leave me like everyone before him did.

I had never been loved so much. I had never experienced what I gave people myself. The endless love and loyalty. Harry gave me his all, and I started feeling bad for not showing all of the love I had for him, and yet I still feared losing him because of my obsessive nature.

I sat at the kitchen table and scrolled through our texts with Harry.

© all right belong to stylesberries. do not repost or modify.

[neverdoingmuch]

Wait cql lawyer/law school AU

i got you my pal dont worry!!

law school, im gonna be honest and say i know like nothing about law or law school so pls ignore any inconsistencies or inaccuracies

lwj goes to law school and he is definitely the top student in his class. they’ve been there for like a month and everyone already knows he’s gonna be the best

his one and only competition is this dude called wei wuxian but lwj isn’t particularly worried about him

so far they’re still in the stage of the course where they do the fun things to sucker people into doing the class for the semester so there’s been some practise debates and arguments and stuff in their tutorial classes

wei wuxian has that Charisma and like yeah all of his arguments are perfect but also he has an amazing smile and people are like yes i can trust him 

(he’s definitely the sort to be like hm, the easy way to argue this case would be to quote some laws and use precedence to justify this but that’s boring)

lwj is also good at that sort of stuff because his arguments are perfect and everything is so perfectly researched that there should be no ground at all for someone to lodge a counterargument

(wei wuxian manages somehow and it makes lwj so mad)

but that’s whatever lwj thinks,, a lot of people join law thinking it’s gonna be like the tv shows and books and then get completely blindsided when it comes to the rote learning part or like the actual laws 

and for all of wwx’s confidence, lwj hasn’t actually seen wwx so much as touch the textbook/s and he always studies in the law library so he knows that wwx has probably never even been there bc he hasn’t seen him even once (why’s he looking? bc he needs to see which books wwx uses to study,, bc there has to be something going on there,, obviously)

then they do their first like proper written assignment and lwj and wwx tie for the highest scores and now lwj has a Rival and he refuses to lose to someone who thinks that putting a ‘-us’ sound at the end of a word makes it latin (did wwx say habeas corpus and then point at a soft drink and go  sprite-us can-us,,, maybe,,,,)

anyway! lwj and wwx are kinda rivals for the top spot and it’s one of those situations where one test lwj wins by a point but then the next test wwx gets full marks and they just keep exchanging the top spot in class

and this whole time wwx is like The Worst to have in class. he’s always interrupting to ask questions or just straight up not listening and spends the class doodling pictures of rabbits (they’re cute but wwx is terrible and he’s not allowed to make cute drawings)

so after a few months the most horrible thing happens.... they get put together in a project and lwj is like ugh. internally of course but his face is also saying ugh

the first time wwx and lwj get together to work on the project, lwj is prepared with a proper list of tasks to do all nicely split up between the two of them and a schedule for when they should get certain parts done by. 

needless to say, lwj does not expect wwx to be ready, but wwx is definitely on top of things

he rocks up and is like yeah let’s do this, this and this and have them done by this time - basically proposing to do everything that lwj has already written down

and lwj is pleasantly surprised and is like hm maybe i misjudged wwx and decides to like re-evaluate his opinion on him

in doing so he realises that when he’d never seen wwx studying, it wasn’t an exaggeration at all. he’s never seen wwx so much as touch a textbook or spend more than a minute on a laptop doing something that wasn’t minesweeper or solitaire

but wwx is also making all of their deadlines and even adds extra information and resources to their document that could be useful elsewhere and sometimes he shows up to their study sessions and he looks absolutely exhausted

eventually lwj manages to get the truth out and wwx is just like yeah it’s easier to get worse grades than a genius but if you both study and you still get lower grades, it’s not easy,, for jc or for me

so wwx usually studies at night when his brother is asleep and lwj is like that’s bad, you can’t keep that up and just when wwx is about to go off at him lwj is like you can come study at my place

and thus begins the wonderful time where everything is alright and lwj falls in love with wwx

they work really well together and wwx is strangely considerate and nice? when he finds out lwj likes rabbits, he goes out and buys bunny post-it notes for lwj and starts to always bring him a doodle of bunnies every time he comes over. he always gets his work done on time, early even, and his work is always so brilliant and every time wwx smiles at him, lwj feels warm inside etc etc

for a long while lwj is like yes (: this is friendship (: bc he’s never had a crush before but then on the day they submit their project wwx is like hey,, the two of us make a great team,, we should always work together,, now and next year and even when we graduate,, i want to help the innocent people who need our help and i think i’d like it a lot if you joined me and lwj has his oh moment

they get a perfect score on the project of course and even after it finishes, wwx keeps coming over to lwj’s place to study or just hang out and lwj is just falling more and more for wwx each day

they’re best friends now and everyone gets used to seeing them work together on projects and then turn around to try and decimate each other when they’re working one on one and lwj thinks that he might just be the happiest he’s ever been

but then one day wwx doesn’t show up to class. it shouldn’t be strange but wwx has never missed class even once and he ends up hearing from lxc who heard from jgy that wwx was caught sabotaging some other student’s work (the other student was jzxun, who had a fondness for playing devil’s advocate and other than wwx once telling him that his argument was shit, wwx never spoke to him or seemed to know who he was but lwj is a bit too angry to remember that)

he manages to find wwx outside of his dorms as he’s moving out and he’s just like why did you do that? and wwx is like oh y’know,, bc he’s not really sure what’s happening himself,, one second he was at the top of his class and the next he was being brought before a board and being told that he was being expelled but he’s not going to tell lwj that bc lwj would definitely try and stand up for him and then they’d both get expelled

but lwj is furious and just spits out well if our dreams meant so little to you then maybe it’s a good thing you failed now,, bc his mother was a lawyer who took all these little jobs that helped people who actually needed the help and lwj was looking forward to doing that with wwx and he doesn’t even seem to care that now they can’t do that 

wwx flinches and then smiles at him and just cheerily says, that’s me and leaves. he doesn’t look back and lwj doesn’t chase after him.

lwj doesn’t see him again for years (you can do 13 or 5 or however long you feel like)

lwj is a fully licensed lawyer and he’s working for the family company and he spends half of his time working on cases and uses the rest of his time to do like outreach programs where he goes and visits schools and runs sessions on what it’s like to be a lawyer, how to apply, and to provide assistance to any students who decide to study law at uni

and then at one of these programs he meets this kid, wen yuan, who is ridiculously bright and enthusiastic and has a smile that seems oddly familiar

at the end of the second session he comes up to lwj and is like mr. lan, is your name lan wangji? and lwj just says yes, expecting the kid to be a fan of one of his cases or something but then wen yuan is like oh wow! i thought i recognised you from my dad’s photo!

and lwj isn’t expecting much but he asks what the photo looks like and wen yuan pulls out this photo from his pocket and lwj immediately recognises it,, it’s the only photo he has of him and wwx

your father is wei ying? lwj asks him and wen yuan is like yes, hesitates, and then asks, would you like to see him?

and that’s how lwj finds himself following wen yuan to some dinky little office that has a plaque outside that reads wen and wei

(wen ning is the nicest and sweetest person ever and lots of people underestimate him but then he’s an absolute monster on court. he gets up and completely decimates the opponent and then at the end is like (: it was so nice to meet you!! i am baby!! and all that,, you know our boy)

anyway they walk in and wwx turns to greet wen yuan but then he sees lwj and is like woah! you! and he’s not sure whether to hide or go and hug lwj so he just gives him a fist bump,, like a bro,, and immediately wants to shrivel up and die

anyway they get the reunion stuff out of the way, swelling music, tender wrist holding, lots of staring, lwj silently declaring his wholehearted love for wwx and refusing to believe rumours about him again even though he doesn’t actually know what happened, you know how it goes

from wwx’s side of things,, after he got kicked out he went to some small uni. good in its own right but not known for their law program and ended up specialising in family law

the first case he ever won was for the wens to have the right to keep custody of a-yuan and the first case wen ning ever won was to let wwx adopt a-yuan bc i’m soft like that

so wwx has just been kinda vibing,, being a single dad, living with the wens and helping to make that difference he always promised he would

now this isn’t gonna be some au where lwj goes oh my! i must give up my high salary job and work with wwx! bc lwj has been doing good stuff at his current job and for all of his family’s stuffiness, they run a fair and just company 

but! he does end up helping wwx when wwx gets a letter with a bunch of information about the jins and how they’re actually super corrupt and evil (big surprise,,) and how wwx was maybe definitely framed bc he was doing some casual work on the side and stumbled across some bad shit on the jins back in uni

lwj ends up being the one to take the case officially but wwx is definitely the guy leading it and so lwj ends up spending most of his time at the wen-wei office

lwj definitely bonds with wen yuan, who also wants to go into law, and writes him recommendation letters and helps him edit his applications and stuff

(and one day wen yuan is like leaving you was the hardest thing dad ever did and i dont think you appreciated how much he cared about you. he really did think that he annoyed you ‘til the end and lwj is like no! he didn’t! and wen yuan is like yeah i know but you gotta tell him and lwj really does mean to but the time is never right or something like that but also wen yuan is all but calling lwj dad at this point)

anyway they end up going to court, side by side, working as a team just as they promised to do and just as they finish their final day on the case, ended with the jury ruling jgy guilty and wwx’s reputation all but saved, wwx turns around and flings himself at lwj

is he crying? is he laughing? a bit of both tbh but wwx ends up confessing right then and there, still on record and everything (is that how that works??? idk! let’s say it does)

and what can lwj do but make out with him?

did a news crew come in to film the results of this massive court case just to end up with five minutes of wangxian kissing?? maybe! but when it played on tv it meant wwx and lwj didnt have to actually tell anyone they got together

(and does lwj eventually pop the question using wwx’s bad latinification? yes and wwx is too busy laughing to accept at first but he does and they end up being the worst possible tutors for wen yuan as he goes through law school bc they keep being all gross and lovey-dovey and acting like law school is the most romantic place in the world)

[vainvex]

okay but you people realise that we dont have to do this whole gifted kid vs special ed kid thing right. both groups of people have experienced ableism in different ways. it isn't minimising other people's experiences to talk about your own. it isn't ableist to talk about the ableism you yourself have experienced, but it *is* ableist to insist that someone else's experience as a disabled person is invalid simply because it's different from yours. and this goes for people i've seen on both sides of the discussion.

for example, i was in the gifted kid program, and my younger sibling has been in special ed their whole life. we are both very autistic, and both have adhd. and our different experiences have still been bad for both of us because, surprise surprise, theyre Both Harmful!

my sibling was diagnosed early on, because their symptoms are more "visible" and closer to what abled people look out for. they've been bullied relentlessly for being weird and different, and made fun of for needing the accommodations that they do.

in my case, no one realised im autistic and have adhd until *i did myself* my senior year of hs, and i didn't get diagnosed until after i graduated. because the symptoms of my disabilities presented differently from my sibling's, i've been treated differently, but i still struggled nonstop throughout school. in fact, that's why i almost didnt graduate. i only did because of the pandemic pass, honestly - i graduated a couple months after it started. the pressure of the expectations, being dropped into accelerated courses i was in no way ready for, combined with the total lack of support or help when i needed it, led to me having so, so many breakdowns, from middle school all the way up to college, because i felt stupid for not being able to "just do it", as i was often told to do. i was taught to push myself beyond my limits, and as a result i still don't feel like i'm doing enough even when i'm actively burning myself out.

if i had some kind of accommodation for my disabilities whatsoever, maybe i would have done better. but because i didn't "seem disabled", or even know where to start in asking for help, my struggles were overlooked and my failing class after class was dismissed as me just being lazy and a disappointment. (eg. "you're so smart and we know you are so why don't you just *apply yourself* like you surely must be able to?" "you're really letting yourself down here." "there's no reason you shouldn't be able to do this." "i explained this already." "it's simple, what don't you get?" etc. etc.)

when i did my one semester of college before dropping out, i finally got my adhd diagnosis partway through the semester, and was able to reach out and apply for accommodations. and because of my adhd, i had issues setting up those accommodations for myself, to the point where i was told it would be "better to just wait until next semester". it was like i needed accommodations to help me be able to receive accommodations. i didn't get them, and i failed every single class i took. same as how i failed half of high school.

it isnt bragging to say i was in the gifted kid program because that's what the school itself called it. that's what actual schools call it. and That is the issue here, not the neurodivergent kids who are forced into it with just a "you'll do fine, you're Smart" and no further support beyond that. it's the way that schools separate children, ostracise them from their peers, for being both too smart and not smart enough.

the way kids who are in special ed programs are treated, by their teachers, peers and family, is terrible. disabled children often don't get the support they need, and are ridiculed for their disabilities. this has lasting, lifelong effects on the people who go through it. by all means, this should absolutely be talked about more, and is very much something that needs to change.

the thing is, the way the entire education system is set up is inherently ableist. between the cookie-cutter "this one method works for everyone", and the separation and othering of kids who are "different" starting very early on, there are countless issues. this isn't news. but it means that disabled kids in different areas of the system, different programs, will still experience ableism no matter what. and it's insane to try and pit our own experiences against each other, as fellow victims of this systemic issue, as if it's more "valid" to experience ableism one way than it is another. this makes no sense, and i feel it distracts from the real issue at hand: the educational system needs serious reform in regards to how it treats disabled children, let alone the many other aspects in which it's failing our youth.

i say all this as someone with experience working with disabled kids, and who intends to someday try college again to become a special ed teacher for younger children so they can receive the support and care that they need starting early on. my disabilities are making that plan difficult for me, but are also why it's something i'm passionate about. and that's why i feel it important to stress that the issue here is not other disabled people. it never has been.

(note: i know there are definitely plenty of abled children in gifted kid programs, but in my experience a significant portion of my classmates were disabled as well. this post is solely talking about that experience rather than the abled viewpoint in those programs, because disability is the point of this discussion.)

[promptprophet]

Welcome back

I am not dead, although I am ready to throw down. Okay so there is a lot under the cut, but by every star in the sky I have been gone from all of my blogs for a while due to some roccuring issues. If any follow my main at @prophet-rebellion then you may have noticed that.

Some pro-tips:

1. Do not attend a gathering with family that does not believe in Covid. Because if they are anything like mine, someone will tell them they tested positive, your Uncle will encourage them to come anyways and not tell a single other person - and then, surprise surprise, everyone ends up with Covid.

2. Do not let your advisor plan your schedule entirely. Even if they are the Dean of your department. Because if they are still like mine, they will give you six classes. Which would not be an issue of 18 credit hours if it were not for the fact that 5 or the 6 are writing enriched. The only one that it not is math-based which is not my strong suite anyways.

But, in other news - I took a toll for the worst at one point. It has since gotten better. Granted, I had to be the biggest pain-in-the-ass to the campus physiatrist because he wanted to revoke some of my medication. Just because I am somehow making all As for the moment does NOT mean that I do not need my ADHD medication.

Speaking of! Yours truly got formally diagnosed with combination ADHD, depression, and anxiety. And after a lot of trial and error, we have found a medication and dosage that actually helps with the latter two! ADHD is still a work in progress because he is fighting me on it. He also doesn’t want me taking my meds unless I have a face-to-face class that day - as if it is some 9-5 weekdays only issue and I do not have class outside of those times, or online ones. But! A work in progress!

Also, Covid gave me the perfect chance to drop an incredibly toxic group of people in my life. One one hand, my mental health is so much better for it, and so is my own sense of self worth. On the other, it is definitely hard to do and hard to adjust to suddenly losing so many people. But I have reconnected with my 14 year old sister for the first time in 5 years - she wants to have lunch. Which is nice considering I have no spoken to my sisters in 5 years for her, 6 years for the older one (the middle). And I am also trying to reach out to my brothers more. It is interesting, because I did not know them until later. I am the oldest out of 5, 2 half-sisters of my mom’s side, 2 half-brothers on my dads, ironically enough.

I am also seeking out a competent doctor even with Medicaid, because I know need two more surgeries. This will make surgeries 4 and 5. It should have been 2 at most. But 5? And that is minimum, not counting if anything goes wrong again. It is taking longer, because I refuse to see my prior surgeon, and the only opening this past winter break as when I had to have my wisdom teeth removed, so, that did not happen.

Given circumstance I have managed to find a place to stay during breaks. Which is great because as some of you may recall I was kicked out after I turned 18 in 2019, and the room I rented over that summer was terrible (maybe leaving a known alcoholic with no regard for privacy alone with a just then 18 year old girl is a bad idea - if the number of times he barged into my room unannounced to try and get me to drink with him was anything to go by), but it was so my parents could travel full-time. Which, they are doing now and I am happy for them because my mom has 10 years maximum if she is lucky before needing oxygen (Smokers Lung), and my dad is dealing with medical injuries he got while serving - they discharged him because they would never heal right.

I have also picked back up with my job on my college campus! So money! And have secured a much better paying job over break than my McDonalds job, meaning I am not so hard pressed for cash. Which is also great because the last week of summer I had to dish out $2500 for my truck after it broke down in Tennessee and we had to get towed back to North Carolina.

So! Down to business! Now that I know what was wrong with me, and I no longer have issues with suicide, I’m on medication, and last semester I had a therapist that was a major help to me. I am actually in a better spot to be here. It has certainly taken a lot of work, and 2020-21 has thrown just about everything that it seems to have been able and hell, I am still looking for a third job.

Speaking of, god damn, the commissions! Jesus H. Christ, I wanted those done by January! And it’s March! Although I have been making progress on them, that is absolutely true - I am working on them a bit oddly though, switching between which ones I do to try and stop burn out and also because I was not drawing while mentally at my lowest. So to anyone who commissioned me who may not be looking at those messages, but sees this, I am sorry, they are being worked on. And I understand this is a ridiculous amount of time to wait for them and thank you all for being so patient.

I have also been considering if it is a good choice for me to come back to this page, and yes, I think that it is. Having something that I do every day has proven to be very helpful, and the amount of joy and love I have for these pages and the followers on them is immense. I was trying to clear out storage on my phone and I have an album just of prompts or asks that you guys have sent that continue to make my day. It really does mean the world to me.

I cannot be too sure if many have noticed my absence, if Prompt Guy did either. But I am stopping it now. I am finally in a good place. And yeah, I have a lot to do still - if all goes according to plan then I graduate next year. So after this I only have two more semesters before I graduate with my Bachelors in Business, with a focus on Entrepreneurship at the age of 20. And I better because I cannot afford to be in college much longer. I want to be back here, and return to my regular postings and interactions. I am getting those commissions done no matter what - that is a constant guilt over my head. Trust me, I know that it is there. I know. But I joined as an admin because I had followed this page the day it was created. And then I saw it had gone dead with no posts, so I applied as an admin. I got it. And things went very well. Well, I intend to hold back to what I wanted when I was first on this page, bringing it back to consistent postings for everyone.

I am here. I am back. And I am staying.

Also, I apologize if there are any typos, I have been doing a lot or writing for homework and personal work (trying to stop burn out and the threat of school ending my love to write) and my eyes have been strained the last few days, so everything is a bit fuzzy. Speaking of fuzzy! Turns out I needed glasses! So I have glasses now!

Yours truly, Prompt Prophet

[heliosoll]

Hello I hope you're well❤

TW: mentions of anxiety and a little long post👉👈

I was wondering what to do if you feel some kind of guilty feelings for your manifestation?

So pretty much I had to study a career that I wasn't really fond of, I wanted to study Acting but in Latin America specially in my city acting and theater is so frown upon, so I wasn't supported by my family, unfortunately I had to settle and choose this other career (this all happened before I found out about the Law and subliminals)

Anyways I'm in my 5th semester now, and I sort of created this plan that in one of these next semester I'd apply for an exchange and go to another university that is in America in order so I can get casted in yk Netflix and others💕

Anyways I'm confident in all of that, I know it's mine and creation is finished but, but in my 4th and 5th semester my grades have been awful, (when I found out about Loassumption it kinda triggered and spiritual awakening and my anxiety and I could barely get up from my bed, even less hw) but even so I managed to pass all of my classes barely tbh

I decided to revise my grades but I noticed that I started feeling some kind of guilt? Like I feel like I'm not worthy to changes my grades because I didn't do the work and as a punishment I should stay with the grades I currently have rn

Now that I'm writing this Ik how damaging and limiting it sounds but I keep feeling this way 😥

Should I focus on my self concept for the time being?

Hoping you'd read this and tell me your opinion 💕💕💕 blessings 🧚🏻‍♀️✨

Hi! Aww I'm sorry you're feeling that way babe :(

But do remember that creation is always finished and that includes revision! Manifesting = shifting. When you revise your grades, you're just shifting to a reality where you have them. And maybe the you in that reality did put in the work! Or maybe your teachers thought your work was a lot better in that reality. Or maybe you just had less work to begin with.

Regardless, don't conflate work with worthiness! You 100% deserve that life and having a rough mental time during school doesn't mean you don't. I understand where you're coming from, but you literally don't have to lift a single finger for the life you want. That's not a bad thing. Revising better grades is the same thing as assuming you always have good grades!

I'm glad you're feeling better now and even with feeling a little guilty, I'm glad you're coming around to manifestation and have a plan for the life you want. Never feel guilty for that!! You can just as easily revise that you did do the work but even if you don't, you still deserve those grades.

Focusing on your self concept is always a good option! You don't have to of course, but I do think it would help with feeling guilty. A lot of people have felt that way about their manifestations before! Self concept would definitely help ease that feeling :)

[sxfterhearts]

53. [4:07 pm]

➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader

➳ genre/warnings: fluff fluff fluff, baker!au, baker!yugyeom, exchange student!y/n

➳ word count: 2,040 words

➳ summary: “Sit down, I’ll get it.”

➳ author's note: rach-stop-mentioning-food-in-every-single-timestamp-challenge: failed. just the thought of baker!yugs and bread has me feeling all soft and gooey inside. which is why i whipped this one up! it has been a phat minut since i last wrote so yea :”) (also i should mention italicised are korean!!) regardless i hope this will help brighten up your day a little!! sending many warm hugs xx

//

Your phone screeched from its resting place on the other side of your room, signalling the start of your day. It was strategically placed atop your wooden, old-fashioned dresser, with the sole purpose of motivating you to get out of bed and turn the damn thing off.

With a groan, you stretched all four of your limbs, releasing a satisfied yawn as your joints popped after a good nights’ rest.

It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it sneaked past the cracks the half-open blinds, painting your tiny studio apartment with lazy signs of life.

You dragged your sleep-ridden body to the dresser, still reluctant to start the day after what was an immensely taxing Friday night. Having just arrived in this bustling Korean city a mere two weeks ago, you were somewhat proud of yourself for landing a part-time job to support yourself when you started your semester of exchange. The only problem was, it happened to be a bartending job in a rowdier part of Seoul, commonly patronised by sleazy middle-aged men and their younger lady companions.

It wasn’t like you had much of a choice, anyways. Your Korean was still very much at an elementary level, which didn’t prove to be a hindrance in the bar you worked at. Most of the drinks were named in English, and the owner of the bar, a surprisingly kind, motherly lady in her sixties, paid you well above the minimum wage.

Still, it was your second Friday shift ever, and it clearly took its toll on you. Staring at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you cringed. The eyebags under your eyes were so dark it could’ve easily been mistaken as a smoky-eye look gone wrong; your lips were awfully chapped and an alarming shade of red, while a few nasty pimples threatened to break through the surface of your skin.

In other words, you looked like a wreck.

Grabbing your phone, you checked the time. Ten minutes past four. Oh no, you winced internally. You were going to be very late if you didn’t leave your house in the next fifteen minutes. As though an internal switch flipped on, you turned the shower to full blast and stepped inside, sucking in your teeth as the cold water splashed against your skin.

In eight minutes flat, you were tugging on your beat-up sneakers and dashing for the elevator in your only pair of clean, non-alcohol-stained jeans and a plain white t-shirt that you conveniently picked off the pile of dry clothes on your sofa. You jammed the down button a couple of times, all while checking the time on your phone.

“Shit,” You cursed under your breath. 4:19. You couldn’t wait any longer.

Throwing all caution to the wind, you sprinted down the fire escape and did not stop for a single breath until you reached the final destination: a charming little bakery across the road from your apartment.

Rushing to the bakery just before closing time had become a habit for you. Amidst the chaos of moving and finding your feet in this new city, the bakery and its never-ending stream of patrons were your source of stability. Not only was it less busy and crowded during the evening, but it was also much easier for you to snag a couple of good bargains in the form of randomly-packaged, discounted breads.

The fact that the cute baker was the last one in store and in charge of closing up was just an added bonus.

//

A high-pitched, annoying chime broke him out of his daze. With a groan, Yugyeom straightened his slumped figure and stretched his arms above his head, releasing a satisfied sigh as his backbone cracked.

It was late afternoon. The rays of sunshine splattered deep orange and gold as it flooded through the drawn, white lacey curtains, painting his grandfather’s bakery with calm and relief; a peaceful conclusion. The end of daylight was drawing near.

He wiped a stray trail of saliva off the corner of his mouth before sucking on a mint. Checking the clock that hang above rack upon empty rack which usually contained baked goods, his palms inexplicably grew clammy.

4:27, Yugyeom mused. He shook his head to clear his spiralling thoughts. Keep it together, dummy. Just because she came the past few days doesn’t mean that she’ll come today too. She has her own life, her own friends, maybe even a boyfri-

Oh?

Just as his mind was about to veer off course and crash into the thorny garden of unrequited love, Yugyeom caught sight of a blurry figure at the corner of his eyes. Intrigued, he stood up straight and watched as you appeared in front of the bakery’s double doors. For a few seconds, you simply clutched your knees and huffed and puffed. Yugyeom could barely stop the shit-eating grin that split across his face and had to bite down hard on his bottom lip to avoid looking like a fool.

Then, you did the unexpected. From the back pocket of your jeans, you pulled out your lip balm and applied it on your lips, using the bakery’s glass window as a mirror. At that, Yugyeom threw his head back in a hysterical fit of laughter.

It was hard for him to explain the feeling in his chest, really. The first time you walked through the doors of the bakery, eyes twinkling with pure wonder and amazement as you browsed the array of baked goods like how a girl would admire a display of diamond rings, he was screwed. You captivated his interest as you fumbled for the right number of coins to pay for your discounted breads, tongue stuck out and head tilted adorably while doing so. He gave you, the damsel in distress, a helping hand, by laying all your coins out on the counter and ordering them from lowest to highest value. Probably not the most helpful of gestures, but Yugyeom liked to tell himself that he was performing his civic duty by welcoming a visitor of Korea through non-verbal currency explanations and an introduction to the locals’ favourite breads, pastries and drinks. That evening, the two of you sat on the high table by the window, slowly savouring melon breads, injeolmi toasts, ang butter or red bean butter breads and an assortment of cream cheese breads. While the breads were wonderfully fluffy and the sweetness was at an acceptable level, Yugyeom instructed you to wash it down with an iced Americano.

Since then, the mere thought of the bakery, going to the bakery, its breads and pastries, its drinks and Yugyeom coated your insides with sweetness. Admittedly, the reason why you kept visiting the bakery was to create more memories with Yugyeom and ride the amazing sugar rush you felt whenever you were around him.

After rearranging your hair for the nth time, you bravely pushed open the doors and walked in at 4:29pm.

“Hello!” You called out in Korean as you waved at him, a wide smile plastered on your lips. There was an obvious language barrier (you with your kindergarten-level Korean and him with his Game of Thrones-standard of English), but it wasn’t obvious. The two of you came up with creative ways to break it down.

“Hi Y/N! Sit down. I’ll get it.” Yugyeom answered in English, emerging from behind the counter with his trusty English-Korean dictionary and a matcha latte he prepared in anticipation of your arrival. He walked towards you with an air of confidence, reminding you of a model in a fashion show despite wearing his typical slacks and white button-up, with sleeves rolled up and cross drop-earrings adorning his ears. Yugyeom quickly set the items down before pulling out a chair, nodding towards it to encourage you to sit.

You muffled a giggle at his gentlemanly actions, but complied, nonetheless. You glanced over to the boy, sipping on the creamy drink as he retrieved two large plates from the cake fridge. Sure, the assortment of cakes should have been the main attraction, but your eyes drifted and settled on the stern look of concentration on his face and his prominent collarbones peeking out of his shirt. Unbuttoned, you assumed, as he was going to be off work soon.

You were halfway through the drink when Yugyeom returned to the table. He noticed this and didn’t pass up the opportunity to tease you about it. “Is it really good?”

“Thirsty. I just woke up.” You admitted, cheeks heating up in slight embarrassment.

Yugyeom’s wholehearted laughter filled the entire bakery.

“H-hey! Bad boy… Mean…”

“No, I…” Yugyeom stifled another round of laughter as he tried to pull himself together. “Cute. You wake up, come to see me in bread house.”

“Not ‘bread house’, ‘bakery’.”

“Ah, thank you. Bakery.” He tested the word on his lips, getting used to the pronunciation. “Bakery…”

“What are these?”

Yugyeom handed you a small cake fork while taking a seat. “Here. This plate is for tarts, and this one is for cakes. The tarts have the same filling – custard. But we use different fruits, like strawberries, berries, grapes and peaches. Whatever’s in season, really. Strawberries and cherry tarts are really popular in winter. Try some!” He reverted back in Korean whenever he was explaining, which was a great opportunity for you to pick up new vocabulary.

It was also a fantastic opportunity to try delicious pastries. You rotated through the entire plate painted in shades of pinks and green, taking a bite of each tart. Yugyeom just sat there, head in his palms, and admired the slight changes in your expression whenever you tried a new flavour. As creepy as it sounds, watching you eat the food he prepared was gradually becoming his favourite pastime.

“Cherry! That one is the best! It’s…” You quickly reached for the dictionary, softly muttering to yourself as you thumbed through the pages. “Here, acid. Acid, not too sweet. The strawberry one too.” Your eyes crinkled at their edges as they met his intrigued orbs, proudly smiling at yourself for learning a new word today.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘acidity’. ‘Acid’ is for chemistry.”

“Acidity?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Yugyeom reached over, his huge palm caressing the top of your head before ruffling your hair. You pouted and feigned annoyance, all while your heart squeezed and pounded away in your chest.

“Hey…” You protested weakly.

Yugyeom’s hand retreated. He placed it on the table, right next to your smaller ones. The distance between your hands taunted him; tempted him to close the gap and intertwine your fingers with his. Honestly, Yugyeom wasn’t used to this; wasn’t used to feeling like his insides were going to explode. His mouth opened and closed several times as he pondered his next move, wondering whether it would overstep your boundaries.

But then you stared at him in anticipation with your beautiful brown orbs, innocent and confused, as your lips wrapped around the straw of your matcha latte. Your gaze asked him an unspoken question, urging him on.

Yugyeom dragged your chair closer his, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from you. He rested both of his palms on top of your knees, gaining your full attention. “I like…” Yugyeom paused, catching his bottom lip between his pearly whites as the corners of his mouth tugged upwards. “I like this time with you.”

The soft giggle was purely involuntary, you swore to him afterwards. Yet, as you watched his expression flicker into one of panic, you were quick to cast out his worries. “No, no! Don’t get me wrong. Did you mean, you like spending time with me?”

“Ah, I was trying to be romantic. Stupid English…” Yugyeom cursed under his breath in Korean, unaware that you were familiar with the word ‘romantic’ due to the hours you spent (wasted) binging Korean dramas. “Yes, I do.” He said while squeezing your kneecaps in affirmation.

You had to remind yourself time and time again to keep calm in the presence of this charming man and his magical hands. “Me too, Yugyeom. You’re my favourite time of the day.”

Needless to say, your afternoon ritual continued for weeks and months to come.

[roll-da-credits]

The Dreaded Finals - Kuroo x Dumbass Reader -

Word Count: 2.3k

With finals quickly approaching you dreaded for your impending doom. Having barely studied the entire semester and getting just passing grades, both you and Kuroo were rather anxious about the finals. (The title is me. I’m the dumbass reader.)

A/n

This story was brought to you by me procrastinating on studying for finals even though its literally a week away. I should study Physics and Biology right now but I can’t be bothered at all. Anyways, as always I hope you guys enjoy the first Haikyuu post here. 

“THEN WHAT THE HELL IS THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN SERIES AND SEQUENCE IF THEY USE THE SAME FORMULAS???” What is math.

You threw your hand up and Kuroo looked at you, exhausted but amused at how idiotic you actually were.

This morning you were just reminded by your boyfriend, Kuroo that tomorrow was the math finals.

How you forgot the dates for finals was beyond him. Cue panicking over not understanding a single thing taught in math.

Him being the kind boyfriend he was, offered to teach you the formulas and do some example questions with you. Though at first, he thought it wasn’t going to be that hard, your scores weren’t amazing, but they were passing.

From your test answers, he noticed how you already understood the formulas. You just had trouble applying them and putting the right formulas on the right questions.

But he realized pretty quickly, you were just incredibly lucky.

“So, for geometric and arithmetic they have 2 formulas for each so its 4 formulas all together I think you already know that-“

“Wait there’s 4??” Kuroo looked up at you from the paper slowly, completely dumbfounded how you didn’t know there was 4. “Ok stop looking at me like that HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?”

Kuroo pitifully smiled and ruffled your hair. “How did you even pass this test if you didn’t know there were 4 formulas??” He actually was amazed at how you graduated from Junior High.

“Well I just guessed around, plus sitting beside smart students help a lot you know.” You nudged over towards Kuroo. A sly smile decorating your features.

He shook his head, amused at the fact that you somehow cheated on every single test but STILL get a BARELY passing score.

“Ok so, this is how it works.” He then spent close to one and a half hour explaining everything about ONE out of the four topics you had to study that day.

Thankfully you seemed to be focused to be learning everything, he was actually surprised at the fact that you were enthusiastic to try and understand everything.

Now was the hard topic. It was close to 8pm and you finished 3 topics, but the last one. Algebraic expressions.

“Yea no, you know what. I’m just going to stop here and hope this doesn’t come up that much tomorrow.” He laughed out loud at your reaction when he showed you his notes.

Your hand tangled in your hair with your eyes wide open, completely baffled at the satanic writing in front of you. “This doesn’t even look like math anymore.”

Sighing, you planted your head on his desk. He grabbed both your shoulders and shook you lightly as a small way of trying to cheer you up. “At least you already understood the other topics, algebra’s hard, don’t be too hard on yourself.” He tried motivating you.

Kuroo was one of the most supportive boyfriends you could ever ask for, whenever it came to you trying out new things or you trying to study. He was always there to support you and sometimes tease you whenever you needed a laugh.

Kuroo smiled fondly over at you, there was something about you that always captivated him. Even in situations like these where you’re frustrated or just plain annoyed, he always saw you as incredible.

He admired you as well, although sure your grades weren’t something that would qualify for Harvard or Oxford. He admired that you still tried, albeit you procrastinated a lot. He’s never seen you fully give up and come to something completely unprepared.

You were always working on your flaws, whether you realized it or not. And for that he admired you. “Can we just hang out now? You’re very deserving of a break.”

Truthfully, he just wanted to have a soft cuddle session with you on the bed until you realized you had to go home, before your parents start calling the police. Much to his disappointment, you shook your head and opened your phone to check the time.

“Can’t. My parents already texted me, asking where I am.” You muttered, already beginning to take your books and notebooks. “Thank you for teaching me though, you’re the best.”

You gave him a light peck on his lips as you stood. Successfully making the volleyball captain grin. “Love you, wish me luck for tomorrow.”

~

The next day came and it was no surprise that he was actually worried for you. As always, you arrived in class one minute before the teacher came in.

Before the test papers were handed out Kuroo saw you look back at his seat 2 rows behind you and grinned largely.

How the fuck were you so calm.

Even he was stressing a little bit internally. He felt like he didn’t prepare enough.

When the tests were handed out his eyes widened. From what he saw by skimming the questions, close to 75% of it was algebraic expressions.

Something both of you deliberately skipped last night. Safe to say the entire time he was doing the test he snuck glances over to you, trying to see if you were panicking or not.

Although, even if you were, he wouldn’t be able to see it since your back was facing him. For some reason, it was panicking him a lot that he didn’t spend the time to teach you.

What happens if you fail?

He knows your parents were rather strict on grades. They agreed as long as it was a passing grade you would be safe from a punishment.

But what if you failed?

Would your parents stop you from visiting him?

Or worse, what if they confiscated your phone?

How was he going to text you flustering pick-up lines in ungodly hours of night?

Even through all of the stress pile up and him panicking every time he read a new question and it was still algebraic expressions. He somehow finished the entire test on time.

The only good thing that comes from finals are, no other subjects, and you get to go home early. Lunch time came as soon as the test ended and the bell rang.

Kuroo immediately went to your table, “Damn, we should’ve studied algebraic expressions huh cutie?”

He patted your head lightly. He wanted to tease you, making sure you smiled at something if you were feeling down at the unlucky test questions.

What he didn’t expect you to do was giggle. “Damnit, I probably used up all my luck in my other tests.” You barely seemed bothered by the high chance you might get a failed score on math FINALS. “Maybe next time I’ll listen to you more.”

You grinned ear to ear, standing up from your chair to kiss the rooster head boy on the cheek.

“You coming? I want to meet up with Kenma.” He didn’t even realize you were already leaving the classroom.

The rest of the lunch break was spent with you and him talking about random nonsense, whilst Kenma sits playing his game and adding a few of his own opinions to whatever topic you talked about.

Afterwards it was time for another final test, you and Kuroo took your seats again and began the test.

He again realized; this was difficult. He struggled with a few of the questions. This made him worry again for you.

Not that he wanted assume you were stupid or anything of the kind, you were a pretty smart person when it came to certain subject. Though, other subjects you seem to get a barely passing grade.

Then again, after the test, you didn’t seem bothered by it and barely complained about the question.

The finals week went on and every day the same thing keeps happening.

He’d help you study but would have to cut a few things from each topic short because you had to go home. The next day the test would have you write the answers completely and in depth, he’d get worried you won’t be able to do it. As always, after the test.

You didn’t seem shocked or even bothered.

You didn’t even talk about the finals when you were hanging out, you wouldn’t talk about the questions or even discuss the questions you didn’t understand with him.

He was perplexed by you. One day you were panicking because you didn’t understand math at all, the next you seemed terrifyingly calm after doing something you supposedly can’t do.

You didn’t speak about the finals for the next week either, it was when the last week of school finally came that the moment of truth is revealed.

All the test papers would be given back to the students.

Since this was finals to determine if you’d make it to your third year, everyone seemed antsy. Even Kuroo himself was scared to see his score, passing was one thing, his expectations for himself was another thing.

He looked over to you, and again. You seemed,

Oddly calm

No nervous foot tapping, ghost piano playing on your table, or even your fingers fidgeting with each other.

Nothing.

Completely calm

It was unnerving, he’s never seen you that calm before.

You’ve always been someone who matched his energetic lifestyle, so seeing you so quiet and calm was… creepy.

The test papers are finally given back to the students, and the teacher left the classroom.

A range of emotions swept through the class, some crying, others cheering. Kuroo sighed in relief. His scores just reached his own expectations.

He walked over to your table and saw you clutching the paper close to your chest. Readying for the worst, he waited for an outburst of emotion.

Then he saw it.

The first few tears that came out of your eyes. His heart immediately broke at the sight.

He knew you worked hard and didn’t procrastinate the whole week of finals, although you did before. You always made up for it by studying extra hard a day before finals.

He took his palm and wiped a few of your tears. “Oi, cutie, come on give me a smile. Grades don’t mean everything. Plus, I bet that one subject you love you got a really good score on.”

He took your chin on his right hand and lightly pulled it up to look at him.

His eyes widening with little bit of fear. You were SMILING???

Seeing his shocked expression made you laugh really loudly whilst wiping the tears. You put all of your test papers on your table for him to see.

Every one of your finals you didn’t only get a passing score.

But every one of them were above 85.

You got a 90 for math.

“I DID IT!!!” You enthusiastically yelled and stood up abruptly.

You hugged Kuroo, whilst the table between the two of you made the position a little bit awkward. He leaned into your touch, still confused though.

When you pulled away you laughed at his ridiculously confused expression. You sighed in contempt and sat back down at your chair.

“I slept for 2 hours every single night, just to study. When I come back home from your house, I’d still study. I’d try to understand every single thing we didn’t touch on before.” Your eyes glimmered with a sense of pride.

A new kind of admiration filled his heart as he listened to his beautiful lover talk about all the things they did to help them memorize everything.

You were lost in your own explanation that it took you a while to realize Kuroo was looking at you with the most love-struck expression. “Pffftt, what’s that face.” When he realized he was staring he immediately looked away and blushed.

“Hey hey hey!! I thought you were the teasing one in this relationship.” You continued to tease him whilst laughing.

Kuroo looked back at you and gave you one of the most genuine smiles you’ve ever seen. Successfully making you stop talking, “You’re incredible.”

He said out of nowhere. It amazed you at how Kuroo was able to say those kinds of things with a straight face. You awkwardly laughed at his comment, “You inspired me you know?” His head cocked to the side with curiosity. “I thought to myself, you deserved a smarter lover. So, I wanted to get really good scores this year.”

Oh, if only you knew how much YOU inspired HIM to be a better person. Since it was time to go home anyways, Kuroo took your bag with his and dragged you across the hallways.

“Where the hell are we going???” You were utterly confused.

Kuroo didn’t even reply, he just ran all the way back to his home and his room. You threw off your shoes as quickly as possible whilst he was still pulling you.

He pulled you on his bed with him and immediately cuddled close.

“The fuck?” It wasn’t as if you didn’t like it.

You just were… confused

“You said you haven’t been getting enough sleep so we’re taking a nap right now. I won’t take no for an answer chibi-chan. If you do say no, I’ll just keep bragging about my scores until you’ll sleep just to get away from me.”

You scoffed, “I’d never fall asleep with THAT kind of bedtime story.”

Kuroo looked down at you, “Well, first off I got a 98 in math, it wasn’t hard. I saw that question 4 you got it wrong and the way to actually do it is-”

“Go to hell, I’d rather sleep.” His signature hyena laugh filled the room.

Adorable as always.

“Then go to sleep cutie.”

You hummed in agreement and put your hands around his torso, whilst he to yours. His chin resting on the top of your head and you nuzzling into his broad chest.

This was the perfect end to finals week.