#no one can find him because he’s got the best disguise in the world

[biboomerangboi]

Think we all should be very grateful our boy ascended at 17 because if he had have been any further into puberty he’d probably have the worlds longest hermit beard like I just know the thing would be reaching his thighs AT LEAST.

[temptaetions]

angel eyes 🪽 b.cc (m)

a/n: the photo above is from stray kids' skz magic school shoot. i don’t own the media. i clearly got carried away writing this, because it's so long. however, i hope you guys enjoy it. obviously none of this is real...so does accuracy matter?

✩ spellbound secrets series m.list

✩ synopsis: you’ll think you’re in paradise, and one day you’ll find out he wears a disguise, don’t look too deep…

✩ genre: idiots to lovers | love epiphany au | teacher x student

✩ pairing: ??? b.cc x fem!compassion conjurer!reader

✩ word count: 21.6k | lowercase intended.

✩ rating: 18+. minors do not fucking interact.

✩ warning(s): quite a few time skips. minor character death, mentions of a car accident, semi descriptive. y/n has a scar across her body (not self inflicted, how it was inflicted is not described), both y/n and chan have unresolved issues with love, chan's kind of a dick in the beginning. swearing, mutual pining, alcohol consumption, brief mentions of blood, y/n has a medical episode, once more horribly written smut [between b.cc x reader: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!!!), creampie, oral (f. receiving...he starts eating it thru the panties LOL), so much kissing, some (nude) grinding, missionary (because i'm an emotional bitch), light nipple play (clothed), crying during sex, multiple orgasms, reader begs a lot, some biting, light choking (m. receiving), a bit of alluding to sex as 'extra credit' and subtly feeding the professor x student power dynamic]. (more information about y/n: she glows, kind of like a glowstick, and she can float around instead of walking.)

✩ what to listen to: angel eyes - abba | the chain - fleetwood mac | bodyache - purity ache | if it isn't love - new edition | cherish the day - sade

tuesday – november 02.

it's slow, the fall. it feels like liebesträume.

feeling lost is an understatement. 

he's been lost before - in grocery stores, not understanding assignments. shit, he's even been lost in the woods before. he knows what it's like to be lost, physically. he knows what it's like to not know what his emotions mean, either, so that also counts in his book.

but this? this feeling that he's just wandering the world? not knowing where his purpose lies, or what he's meant to be doing with said unrealized purpose? this is a feeling of damn near disorientation, isolation, off fucking course. it's all the same anyway. everything is the same, nearly everyday.

he wakes up, brushes his teeth. greets changbin and hyunjin at the table for breakfast, and gets ready for the day. goes to class, daydreams. he comes home, has lunch with jisung sometimes, and goes to the gym with changbin at seven-thirty. every few fridays, he'll go to one of the university baseball games, cheering on seungmin and jisung while sharing nachos with his ex-fling, sooyoung, and her best friend (who so happened to be seungmin's former girlfriend.) then, he's home again, he showers, he sleeps for a few hours.

every. single. day.

he gets bored, but reminds himself he needs to find peace in the routine. it's all he knows – he doesn't know what's keeping him here, but he's aware it's something. everyone knows it's something, but have no answers for him. he's sought after so many master sorcerers across all dimensions, begging to find an end to his equation, but to no avail.

he has no idea who he is, or what purpose he serves, and he pretends he's okay with it. he soothes by saying that not all can be known.

he pretends it's fine as he goes through his days, as he goes to class, as he talks to girls. he doesn't feel much of anything when he does these things, but the women he speaks to certainly do. they grin from ear to ear, like cheshire cats, when they get a moment to speak to the uncertainty that is bang chan.

but, it's fine. he's fine, it's really not a big deal.

he's in his last year of grad school, hoping to just bury himself in his studies to stop the feeling of impending doom. normally, you open up shop right after undergrad. you offer your services, barter for goods, sometimes get paid in a goat and two chickens instead of money. so many of his friends have already done so, relishing in the satisfaction that is being a sorcerer and mastering their craft. 

what the fuck is he supposed to do? study until his fingers fall off and his brain becomes putty?

"i dunno, man. you could become a genius." jisung spoke around a mouthful of blueberries, and chan grimaced. "what? i'm bulking up!" shaking his head, chan closed his notebook. shoving it into his bookbag, he sighs. "i don't think i want to know everything there is to know, ji."

"doesn't knowing everything you need to know, start with knowing yourself?" minho teases from across the table, winking at jisung over his coffee cup. the younger boy nearly chokes, getting a whack across the back to aid in not seeing god. "don't flirt with him, he'll have an aneurysm." "hey!" jisung sputters, but the three of them know it's true. how jisung was the campus' playboy, no one would ever know. chan didn't even know if jisung could read when they first met. "you know it's true, ji. i gotta head out, i have a night class this semester with professor y/l/n, i finally got my schedule fixed. changbin is going to hate me because i'm going to miss the gym every tuesday and thursday." chan groans as he swings his bag over his shoulder, and the two men watch as he slides his headphones on, walking out of the library.

he's insufferable lately, and they don't know why. they assume he needs to kiss someone, preferably sooner rather than later.

"you think the poor guy knows what he's in for?" minho mumbles, closing his textbook. jisung shakes his head, popping another blueberry in his mouth. "i hear she's ruthless. i mean, if i was an anomalistic prodigy with gorgeous thighs like hers, i would be, too." "shut up, you can't even kill spiders."

your classroom is surprisingly cozy as he strolls in. the lights are dimmed, and there are blankets draped across many chairs. he looks around, spotting a green couch in the back. raising his eyebrows, he makes a beeline for it, hearing other people start to trickle in.

setting up his laptop on the table before him, he lets his eyes wander.

the walls are plastered with entomology posters, and he scrunches his nose as he sees a taxidermied praying mantis on your desk. he remembers what you said in your speech at your commencement ceremony – "the people of ancient greece and egypt saw the praying mantis as a guide. a guide for those who needed direction, and my god, have i needed it. life truly does go on and i am further amazed by how deeply it fills me with joy to stand here before you. the people of ancient greece and egypt saw the praying mantis as a guide, and i am so honored to be the mantis that prays for you."

you were the university's little treat, their trophy to parade. their only compassion conjurer and possessor of the will to practice benevolent magic. you cared of nothing more but to help those around you, you never said no. you never denied yourself to be utilized to find peace. he admired you, but not really. it was twisted, but he thinks you should…help yourself. he believes you should be selfish, at least once in a while.

he didn't really know you, but he hadn't expected to, either. you seemed like you were constantly on the go. you floated about, sort of like a ghost. your hands often clasped behind your back, a warm golden glow surrounding you. he'd heard from some people that they've seen it change color, but he never has.

but again, he didn't know you.

"chan!"

the voice whips him out of his thoughts, and he looks up to see yugyeom. he smiles, reaching his hand out for a dap from his oldest friend. "hey! how have you been? still on the baseball team?" "nah, i quit after i started dating doyeon. apparently, she has quite the track record with the team." he whistles, pulling out his laptop as he slides on the couch. "you quit the team for a girl?" chan questions, and yugyeom gives him a shy smile.

"she's not just any girl, chan. i think…she could be the one." he shrugs, a blush coating his cheeks as chan bumps his shoulder. "aww, that's so gross."

"shut up. what happened with you and sooyoung? did you guys break it off?" yugyeom takes a sip of his water, and chan nods as he sees more people walk in and take their seats. "yeah, we stopped fucking around. i wasn't as emotionally invested as she was, and i felt awful for it but we ended on good terms. i'm just not ready for a relationship and i should have made that clear. that was months ago, though, and we're fine." he shrugs, and feels an odd shiver down his spine. he shakes it off, continuing the casual conversation with yugyeom.

the door opens, and they both stop talking to look up. you're floating in gracefully, dark hair framing your face, a few scattered gold strands sprouting at the crown of your head. a bit like a halo, really. long, wine red nails reach for the light switch, dimming the lights even lower.

"good evening, everyone. eyes up front, please." your voice is softer than at your ceremony, but just as confident. you're looking around, your glow dimming lightly as your eyes stop in his direction. chan's eyes flicker to yugyeom, who is smiling at his phone, thumbs typing rapid fire. shaking his head, he looks up at you, your gaze on yugyeom. chan bumps his foot, and his head shoots up. your eyes are slightly amused, "you're paying for this class. i suggest you pay attention." "sorry." he slides his phone in his jacket, and chan bites back a laugh as he clicks his pen. smiling, you redirect your attention. "welcome to identity theory! i'm professor y/l/n, but you guys can call me y/n. you might already know me, as i'm the university's only compassion conjurer, and that is exactly why i'm teaching this class." you hold up the syllabus, and begin walking around to pass them out.

"this is an extension course to the one you took in undergrad, self-discovery 101. here, we are going to further delve into ourselves, and figure out who we are outside of our powers, or what purpose they serve. i like to focus on eudaimonic theory, but if you guys have any others you want to talk about, i'm open for discussion. i also want to apologize for starting the class so late in the year. i promise the workload isn't much, i was just having a hard time deciding if i wanted to teach this class. i wouldn't be doing much soul searching with you guys, i'm already the trophy wife of the administration."

he likes your voice. it's smooth, unwavering even as you apologize and joke, even as you let your feet touch the ground. he feels his chest grow hot as you graze everyone's table with your fingers, a soft chatter beginning amongst the students. he's not nervous, but you're very commanding. he likes the way you grab attention, despite it now seemingly about to be directed to someone in the room.

"your eyes are very pretty." you stop in front of him, and the class grows quiet. you look down at him, the soft light around you a little brighter. he feels his cheeks flush, as he nods in confusion. "do they glow brighter the more i make you nervous?" you tease, and he looks away.

"cute." you slide his syllabus in front of him, and he takes it with a soft thank you.

his eyes were the only thing that gave him that something that people always mentioned. they swirled, every now and again, the brown glowing slightly violet at their own will. nobody knew what it was, but it seemed to take your interest. you move forward with the lecture, not even attempting to hide the subtle boredom in your voice as you go over the syllabus.

"i will see you all on thursday! have a safe night!" you cheer, and the students seem to bask in your happiness as you let them out of the room. you float about, and catch chan at the tail end of the gaggle of students. "you, pretty eyes."

his headphones are in the way, and you place your hand on his arm. his skin is warm to the touch, and he jumps at the contact before turning around, sliding them off. "oh, i'm sorry. did you need me?" "i just wanted to say, i hope my teasing didn't make you uncomfortable. sometimes it just slips out." you smile, and you notice one..two dimples make their presence on his cheeks. "don't worry, it's alright. is that all?" "no, actually." you hold up his file, and he seems to know exactly what's coming. "i don't know my abilities, if that's what you're going to ask. and i won't answer any questions about my parents, that's also in there."

his eyes hold something heavy, and you notice your glow dim as he speaks. if he does, he doesn't mention it. "alright, then i guess that's it. i'm sorry if i disturbed some emotional blockage." your brows furrow lightly, and he raises his own.

"whatever." he mumbles, and slides his headphones back on. he walks away, and you feel your lips tug into a frown. you wonder what his problem is as you walk back into your classroom, sliding the file into your desk drawer.

"you try and make a classroom a home." 

thursday – november 12.

from: yln.yn@spellbound.edu

hello, chan. this is professor y/l/n. i noticed you didn't show up to class last thursday, tuesday, or tonight.

i took it upon myself to look into your file again, with permission from the administration. i want to apologize for the sudden hot seat on tuesday after class, i was unaware of your situation and just wanted some insight. i can see how this made you uncomfortable, and i am sorry for causing said discomfort. i want you to be able to enjoy my class, and hopefully we can traverse that journey together.

that being said, i have come up with a new assignment for you, for the time being. since you don't really know what your specialties are, i can't grade based on performance or any papers delving into how they affect your life, personality, etc.

below is the rubric designed for this assignment. i spoke to the administration, and they're on board with this approach. if anything is too much, please don't hesitate to send me an email, or a text. my number is also below. have a good weekend!

signed,

y/n y/l/n

identity theory

spellbound institute of magic

psychology department

555-8212

he's been staring at this email for the last half hour. he even let hyunjin read over it, asking if he was seeing shit.

he'd skipped your class on thursday, and today. he didn't want to see you, so he avoided the psych hall altogether. he didn't really know how to feel as he switched tabs to the rubric you'd sent, essentially just saying you wanted an essay on how he's been coping with not being sure of his path in life.

how does he feel about it? does it bother him, and if he could pick, which abilities would he pick? his brain says the ability to never see you again, but his heart pangs as he rereads the postscript at the bottom of your email.

p.s. i am once again very sorry. i hope to see you in class on thursday, channie. - y/n

channie. ugh, his heart ached. he'd been so rude.

"you're thinking too hard." changbin sings from the living room, and chan sighs. "how would you know? you can't read minds." he rolls his eyes, shutting his laptop. changbin walks into the dining room, leaning over the back of a chair. "i know that look. the furrowed brows, the pout. you're thinking way too hard about this, and it was an honest mistake on your professor's part. you need to apologize, you grumpy bitch." "yeah, i don't really think it's a huge deal, either." hyunjin chimes in from the kitchen, and chan frowns. "you guys think i'm being overdramatic?" "i think your emotional repression is getting to you, you've been so insufferable lately. when's the last time you got laid?" hyunjin teases as he slides into a chair, and changbin wiggles his brows in agreement. "ugh, don't even." chan slumps his head against the wall. maybe seven months? he has a lot of pent up frustration. maybe not enough to write about his feelings and how annoyed it made him that you were digging into his life this early into him meeting you. what did you need to know, anyway? "isn't your professor that compassion conjurer paradigm? i heard the speech she gave at the convention last year, and i saw the photos. she's gorgeous, that glow around her all the time?" changbin whistles smoothly, and chan's stomach does a flip. he also saw the photos, but couldn't bring himself to think anything of them. he barely remembers watching your speech, too, but he certainly remembers the way your hips swayed as you walked off the stage.

he grimaces, feeling a bit gross at ogling you.

"she's fine." he shrugs, and changbin gives hyunjin a knowing look. "so, she's hot and you're into her. that's why she has you so worked up."

"i beg your finest fucking pardon, seo?" chan blinks, and hyunjin smirks. "then beg, channie. i'm sure professor y/l/n would like it if you did, she seems like the type. get on some dating apps, man. you need stress relief." chan scoffs, shoving his laptop into his backpack. "i'll be in my room, if you decide to stop talking about romancing my professor."

hyunjin and changbin snicker as chan storms off, his door slamming behind him as he flops onto his bed. sure, you were…okay. okay, you're hot. you're so fucking hot.

but, he doesn't like you. he doesn't like that you put him on the spot, and he doesn't like that you intended to ask so many personal questions right off the bat. he also doesn't like that his roommates are probably right – he probably is angry because he needs to get laid.

he groans into his pillow, fishing his phone out of his pocket. he unlocks it, opening the stupid app. "spellbound soulmates, how dumb." he mutters, unpausing his profile. he goes through it, updating photos and prompts. once he's satisfied, he goes to his deck.

left. left. left. left. right. right. left. left.

y/n, 26

compassion conjurer, benevolence magic

biography: sexy as fuck by day, sexy psych prof by night. everything you've heard is true.

interests: if your ass is phat, swipe right 🥵

his eyes widen, your smiling face staring back at him. scrolling through your profile, he sees mostly modest photos – you holding a tray of shots being the most scandalous. not a sliver of skin showing above your waist, but plenty of short skirts showing off your full thighs. you're smiling in every photo, but he can't think of anything except your lips parted, your thighs around his head. moaning his name.

alright, chris. he thinks. chill the fuck out.

he contemplates it for a bit, scrolling up and down your profile when he just shakes his head, closing the app and tossing his phone to the side. he flips onto his back, letting the pillow close around his ears.

he hates to admit it, because he doesn't know you. he doesn't dislike you, per say. but he's not very fond of your subtle insistence.

it's not necessarily your fault, but he really doesn't like talking about his family, especially his parents. only his friends know, and even then, it took all of four years to even bring it up. the fact that they're humans is a huge deal, and he can't risk their safety like that.

not to mention, admissions begged him to keep it a secret. they were toeing the line, chan being the third person in the university's history to have human parents. they knew about the world of magic, but didn't really have the abilities to take care of chan the way it was necessary.

so they didn't. they sent him to boarding school from a young age, and made it a point to frequently visit him. he sees them at least four times a year, but it's never enough time. he feels like he's missing a place to call home. 

he feels so alone.

it's not your fault. and he knows he needs to apologize. he just has too much pride right now.

he hears a knock, and changbin opens the door. "hey, what are you doing? i'm going to the gym, want to come with?" chan sighs, before forcing himself out of bed.

tuesday – november 17.

he's sitting on your couch today.

legs spread, hair tucked under a cap. black, like the rest of his clothes. he looks relaxed, his fingers dancing across his laptop as yugyeom shows him something on his phone. he just nods, and you can't make out what his lips say. 

you'd been feeling terrible about the events of last week, and hadn't gotten so much as an email from him. not about the assignment, not about how he clearly hates you, or even addressing your apology. you didn't understand him, but you don't know him, either.

the past three classes, you'd gotten to know your students. minnie, soyeon and shuhua were your favorite (and only) group, giggling in the corner over their laptops. they were all herbomancers, and you could tell simply based on how giggly they were. they chatted, and last thursday, shuhua was so high she just sat against her chair and stared into the abyss. you found it a little funny, when soyeon and minnie would have to drag her out of your class.

mingyu was a constant flirt, and you attributed it to his matchmaking expertise. he was one of the few cupidancers on campus, and you'd seen him about before. he had the ability to entrance people, to get them high off his attention, and you often saw girls with hearts in their eyes after speaking to him. it was quite the sight, to see someone emotionally orgasm. the fact that you were his professor didn't stop him from smiling at you, making suggestive comments, overall trying to weasel into your heart. you simply played his game, making him flustered.

yugyeom was too enthralled with his phone, and his girlfriend, to complete the assignments. the fact that minnie had slid eighty dollars his way told you his spirit weaving ways were some for the books – and so did minnie – as she rambled about a party at beta tau that past weekend. "you should come sometime, y/n. you'd get so wasted but it'd be so worth it."

you liked that they felt so at ease with you, speaking to you like you were nothing special. you liked being their age, being able to relate to the crazy parties and not worry about how you'd get home the morning after. you enjoyed the intimacy of the small class, but not the coldness surrounding who you would deem your most intriguing student.

he just sits there and he looks so nice. the slope of his neck, the way his fingers bounce on the keys of his laptop. the sheen of his lips from the cherry lip balm he applies three or four times over the two hours of your class. the way your hue almost changes from gold to pink from staring at him, and you know you catch some of their eyes as it tries.

"why do you glow, y/n?" you can hear minnie's hazy voice from the back of the room, and you feel yourself a bit dimmer than usual as you fight down the feelings of lust. "i actually don't know. the master sorcerers never told me, but i know it can be several different colors. care to ask me what they mean?" you wiggle your brows, and minnie giggles.

"pink means you're turned on, huh?" mingyu calls from his seat between shuhua and soyeon, earning a smack from both of them. you chuckle as he pouts, "what? i hooked up with a compassion conjurer last year in the second dimension, forgive me for assuming." "i thought you were bitchless, gyu? what a nice surprise, loverboy." shuhua teases, and mingyu just rolls his eyes. "well, he's not wrong."

their heads whip back to you, and you're purposely glowing gold. you're glad they don't make it weird, their eyes full of glee. "i know those sex flashbacks gotta be good, y/n." minnie giggles, and sighs dreamily. "i once got one in undergrad during the ochem final. i ran out of time and failed."

you laugh, floating closer to their table. "the colors mean a lot of things. i can also change them at will, if one isn't overpowering the other. the hues and brightness also amplify how i feel, which makes it really hard to hide any of my thoughts. for example," you pause, closing your eyes. you feel the warmth of blue overtake you, and hear a soft ooh. 

opening your eyes, you give a quick spin. "blue means i'm sad, disappointed, or at ease. i rarely get this one, it usually happens when i'm with my closest friends and can act on impulse."

the quartet looks amazed as you continue to change colors, explaining them slowly.

green, for envy, and disgust. you also rarely turn this color, and it is amongst the most dim that you've ever been. pink, for lust. you say it's your favorite color, but not your favorite feeling. orange for anger, and you recall that you only turned this color when in your mother's presence, and that you hated this one. silver, for remembrance and emptiness, and they don't require an explanation as the light grows brighter, your face deepening in sadness before you shake your head.

you exhale, before letting the cold of indigo overtake you. they gasp, and you feel shivers rack your body before you can finally speak.

"this is the only one i don't understand. i can make it seem darker, too." you say calmly, eyeing the dimness of it. it glowed almost like a blacklight, and at your will, it turned a deep violet, lining your extremities in black pixels. "have you ever felt it before?" soyeon pops a piece of gum in her mouth, offering a piece to you. taking one gently, you shrug as you unwrap it.

"nope. this one feels cold, though. the others feel warmer, like a blanket. this is like, sub-zero temperatures." you slide the piece into your mouth, feeling your golden glow return as you speak. "that's so cool, though. thank you for sharing." shuhua is gazing at you, fondness riddled in her eyes. you feel your cheeks heat, as you smile.

"my pleasure. class is over in twenty minutes, so wrap up whatever it is you're doing and i might let you guys dip out early." you nod at them, floating in the direction of yugyeom and chan. looking up from your gum wrapper, you see chan looking at you intently, his eyes slightly swirling with that same violet glow from tuesday.

"hey, pretty eyes. so kind of you to grace us with your presence today." your teasing makes him grimace, a hint of annoyance flashing through his eyes. "paying for the class, might as well pay attention." he mutters, echoing the first words you said to yugyeom.

your brows furrow at his attitude, and you watch yugyeom slip away, beckoned by minnie with a piece of pink paper. chan glances at you, closing his laptop and shoving it in his bag with indignance. "why are you acting like this? i already apologized." you feel your glow flash orange, before feeling the soft tinge of blue creeping up your back. his eyes are still violet, but they've softened. "i'm just trying to help you, chan."

"i don't think you can help, when you're part of the problem." he mumbles, his gaze never moving from your eyes. you sense blue creeping up your neck, and succumb to it, letting it blaze. "how disappointing, for a teacher to try and aid you in finding your path of life." your annoyance is visible as you spin, directing your attention to the gaggle of students watching your interaction. soyeon's eyes are wide as you dismiss them, asking them to please let the door close instead of leaving it propped open.

the words aren't even out of your mouth when you hear the door slam, yugyeom pitiful eyes confirming your thoughts. they begin to stand up, heading for the door when yugyeom splits from them, circling back to you.

"don't worry about chan. he's being a dick, it's not your fault." he places a hand on your shoulder, and you give him a sad smile. "i know, yug. i know."

a soft squeeze to your shoulder and he's gone, you're alone in your room. you sigh deeply, letting the most overwhelming hue of all take over.

the same dark red you felt all those years ago, letting it overwhelm you entirely. you sink into your desk chair, letting the soft burn of grief sink into your skin. you can close your eyes and still see it, the wine color in front of you. the one that matches your nails, and on occasion, your lipstick. the one that makes you ache the most, and yearn for those who are no longer here.

you miss him.

just like you miss chan's wide eyes, not having heard the creak of the wooden door in your turmoil. he slips away.

— ☆ — — ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —

later that night, you're sitting in your bathtub, letting the hot water relax your muscles. you hear your phone ping, and you reach for it.

from: bangchan@spellbound.edu

hello, professor y/l/n. i have read your email a few times since it was sent.

i accept your apology. i also accept this assignment, and will submit it as my final project grade, as per the rubric allows.

that being said, i will not be in class on thursday due to a prior commitment. feel free to email me back with any questions you may have, only those regarding the assignment will be answered.

signed,

bang christopher chan

spellbound institute of magic

general magic

you glare at the email, and let orange flicker like the light of your limoncello candle. you made no effort to question it, simply letting it slide. you send back an automated reply, sounds good! have a good weekend.

thursday – november 19.

chan hated meeting his parents in secret.

like it were a crime, to want to see them. he hated acting like it didn’t bother him that his siblings were growing up and he didn’t know them, he didn’t know what they liked, or what they did for fun. he felt so left out of everything, but still framed the photos they sent him. he still tucked their letters in a box for safe keeping, he still yearned to be loved by them.

not that they didn’t love him, but obviously it’s hard to do so from a distance. so they sit in the middle of the forest that surrounds the university, exactly 50 miles from all civilization. they sit there, for hours, and catch up.

“any luck yet?” his father peers at chan over a steaming plate of food, and he shakes his head. “no answers yet. if i don’t find out before the end of the semester, the master sorcerers said they’d figure something out.”

his mother sighs, her spoon stirring the canteen that held her warm coffee. "it'll be alright soon, channie. have you focused on other things? maybe find a nice girl to settle down with?" his father watches as chan visibly tenses, before pulling his wife close. "jagi, maybe that's for another time." she grimaces.

"i disagree. if he's having issues with other parts of his life, he needs to put it on the back burner for a second and figure out other parts. when you can't find a piece of a puzzle, you pick another part to focus on, do you not? the goal of life is to not let one bad thing, or one disappointing moment deter you from finding the answer to your qualms." she rolls her eyes, earning a smile from her husband.

"okay, she has a point." his father relents, and chan just shakes his head. "i'm not ready for a relationship.' "what about that girl, sooyoung?" his mother won't back down and he knows that. "moving on from my love life, i'm content. i'm fine with things, i have my friends, i have my studies. i'll get an answer eventually." he shrugs, trying not to let it show how much it gets to him.

"chan." she slides her arm across the picnic table, grasping his hand gently. "you're not happy. you can't possibly be, with all the turmoil you feel. you're like an angsty teenager who has never stepped outside his room." "yeah, well. life goes on." he mutters, and she feels her heart sink as he pulls his hand away, checking the time on his watch. "i think i'd better start heading back. i have an early day tomorrow." he's lying. they know it, but they begrudgingly allow him to bid them goodbye. they watch him 

walk to his car, and flash his hi-beams as a final farewell before pulling off.

thursday - november 26.

it's been about a month since chan started taking your class. 

and it's been about a month since he's been able to say a single word to you without the same tone of indignance on the tip of his tongue. seeing him look indifferent in the back of your classroom made it all the better, though, because at least now he was in class. he didn't speak to you unless you spoke to him first, but he was on time and attentive.

you liked something about him, but you didn't really know what. it's quite possible you just have a little lustful wishing for him, but it felt…weird. it felt strange, you could practically feel your skin on fire every time you glanced at him, catching his eyes every once in a while. he never held the gaze for longer than a few seconds. 

as for his violet eyes, you hadn't seen them since. you saw him smile with yugyeom. you've heard him laugh, the sound so sweet to your ears. you hated that your glow was so evident when his giggle resounded in the classroom.

you thought nobody noticed, the students didn't treat you any differently than their own friends. soyeon, minnie and shuhua made it a point to start inviting you out to drinks, and mingyu flirted with you relentlessly. you simply took the interactions in stride, and smiled politely as you kept the lectures going.

but tonight? chan wasn't in class (again) so you didn't have anyone to fawn over. mingyu was front and center, and the girls gathered around him as they conspired amongst themselves. they weren't very secretive, and you could hear them giggling as you floated over.

"what's the joke? i want to laugh, too." you teased with a soft smile, and mingyu flashed you his pearly whites before turning his phone at you.

message from: doyeon

[9:03pm] hey mingyu! tell yug i'm waiting for him at the party, and bring the girls with you!

[9:04pm] see if you can convince your professor to come, too 👀 i've seen her and she's hot! maybe she can take eunwoo off our hands, i'm sick of him moping over jisoo

you chuckle, your glow brightening a bit. "you guys want me to go to a party, at a frat house, on a school night?" shuhua nods her head, a giggle falling from her lips. "c'mon, y/n! live a little, there's going to be so many cute boys there." 

"yeah, y/n! plus, a little bird told me a certain purple eyed boy will be there." minnie wiggles her brows at you, and you smirk. "yeah? chan skipped my class for a party?" you glance at his empty spot on the couch, your glow dimming.

"c'mon, y/n. we all know you have the hots for him." mingyu says matter-of-factly, and you laugh. "i do not! he doesn't even speak in class, i don't know anything about him." you shrug, and mingyu smirks. "i've seen the way you look at him!" minnie chimes in, and you shake your head. "so what if you don't? he's hot and you're into that. he has nice muscles, i've seen him at the gym." mingyu sounds like he's trying to convince you, and you give him a smile before patting his shoulder. his cheeks tinge as you whisper, "are they as nice as yours?" soyeon teases mingyu as you float away, and their words stay with you as the class continues for another forty minutes. you type away at your desk as you bid them goodbye, but don't miss minnie sneaking away from her group to hand you a piece of pink paper.

"the address, in case you do want to see chan tonight." she slides it across the desk, a shy smile playing on her lips as she walks away. you glance at it, grimacing at the beta tau seal.

you sigh, pulling your phone to map the walk there from your apartment, receiving a text from your friend, jihyo.

message from: jihyo <3

[9:55pm] hey, you! come with me to a party, i want to scout for booty tonight 👀 i heard beta tau is having one

message to: jihyo <3

[9:57pm] funnily enough, i was about to text you, i got an invite. captain booty reporting for duty 🫡 wear something hot!

— ☆ — — ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —— ☆ —

the party was already in full swing when you and jihyo arrived, pinkies linked. it was apparently a student's birthday party, a short stop on the baseball team. you didn't keep up with the university's sports, but managed to snag a piece of birthday cake in a cup (meaning you dumped the rest of the pink whitney into your cup, and a splash of lemonade) as you let jihyo roam.

"y/n, you made it! you look so hot." you hear minnie from behind you, and you swirl to see her holding onto mingyu. "hey, guys! sick party, my friend jihyo also wanted to come." you shrug, taking a sip from your cup, and minnie gives you a knowing smile.

"hey, don't worry about it. lover boy hasn't kissed anyone since he's been here." minnie moves her head in the direction behind you, and you twist to see chan holding a red solo cup and talking to another student, short with wire rimmed glasses, and a waist you could only dream of. you turn back to minnie, who just winks at you before pulling mingyu away with her.

your body twists to look at chan, trailing your eyes down his figure. he's got on a white muscle tee, and mingyu had not been lying about his body at all. his chest donned what seems to be a rosary, nestled between his pecs that bounced lightly as he laughed. a sliver of his lower stomach was visible, mostly covered by a jacket he likely took off, but the red on the lapels looked good against his skin. silver hoops looped through his lobes and if you didn't sink your teeth into him soon, you were going to combust.

you don't have a crush on chan. not in the slightest. but, you're not blind.

you decided to worm your way to the bathroom, but you didn't realize his friend had spotted you staring. nor that chan's eyes were on you now, wondering what you were doing at a party on a school night, in that short black skirt and soft, flimsy blouse – with no bra. his eyes roll, asking himself why you manage to torture him this way. your coat is long, and covers most of your thighs as you walk away. he winces at the twitch of his cock against his pants.

"professor! what are you doing here!" you hear yugyeom shout from across the room, eliciting a woo from all the people at the party. you smile, and hold up your cup. "hey, yug!"

he waves you over, and you oblige, downing the rest of your drink. "here, try this! i made it." he holds up a long, brown bottle – and you smirk, letting him pour it into your mouth. a bunch of students are watching you down this burning liquor without a second thought, a low whistle emitting from one in particular.

tall, handsome. nicely chiseled face, hair slicked back. barely dressed. slutty.

not chan.

"who invited the trophy wife of the administration? that was hot as fuck." he leans on soyeon, who huffs and shoves him off. "shut up, san."

minnie screams before you can answer. "i invited her! she's cool as fuck, drinks up and tits out for professor y/l/n! wooo!" the crowd that had formed around you took their drinks, a few girls flashing their breasts at you. you let a laugh rip through you when you spot jihyo smiling at you in the crowd before knocking back the rest of her drink. you point to the hallway, signaling you're going to continue your way to a bathroom, before you suffocate on the smell of buchanan's and cheap beer.

the house gets quieter the deeper you go, aside from soft moans coming from a linen closet, obscene wet noises making you shiver as you turn left, finding a clean bathroom. you leave the door slightly ajar as you splash cool water on your cheeks. you let it drip through your lashes before you grab for the toilet roll, only to see someone slip into the bathroom in the mirror. 

"hey." chan's voice is low as you pat the toilet paper on your face, and you glance at him. "hey. skipped my class for a party, huh?" "what are you doing here?" he doesn't sound upset, moreso amused. his eyes shamelessly rake up your legs, and you give a snort in reply. "minnie invited me, and my friend jihyo wanted to scope out some ass." 

"yeah?" his eyes flicker to yours in the mirror, the violet swirl evident, and you feel your thighs clench in his gaze. your glow starts to change hues, and you roll your eyes as you glow pink instead of your normal yellow. "yeah. why, channie? are you here looking for babes?" you turn, letting the liquor talk as you lean against the sink.

"would it bother you if i was?" he tilts his head, sort of like a lost puppy. you smirk, shaking your head. "why would it bother me if my student wants to get some?" "do you always play this little game with your students, professor?" he takes a step closer, and you curse yourself for glowing a little brighter, but shrug as nonchalantly as you can. "beats being uptight like professor callaghan."

"god, you're so right." he chuckles, before his hands cage you in between his body and the sink. "i bet this glow thing gets really annoying, huh?" "you have no idea." you look up into his eyes, subconsciously tucking your bottom lip under your teeth. you wonder why he’s not questioning the color change, maybe he just knows, maybe he was listening last week. you wonder how many girls he’s gotten with, and how many he’s romanced with those angel eyes of his. "you look good." he says gently, almost as if he's giving you an out. almost as if, he's nervous.

"i taste good, too." you mumble, ghosting your lips over his. you can feel your skin start to singe, but you let him kiss you anyway. you let him lift you onto the sink, parting your legs to stand between them. you let him run his hands up your plush thighs, leaning into the kiss as deep as you can without completely absorbing him.

“can’t you get in trouble for this?” chan doesn’t really care, to be honest. you can tell he doesn’t as he drags his lips down your neck, his fingers tugging your skirt up gently. “hmm, no. not me, anyway. trophy wife of the administration privileges.” 

he laughs against your skin, and you give him a cheeky smile as he kisses your lips again, his thumbs gently working circles into your hips. “i don’t want to do this here. let’s find a room, yeah?” "mmm, i don't think so. students who don't participate in class don't get extra credit." you pout, patting his chest when your phone buzzes in your pocket.

message from: jihyo <3

[11:47pm] saw you dip with cutie, so i cozied up to that mingyu guy

[11:48pm] going back to his, u can get home safe?

[11:49pm] i'll turn around if u can't. bros before hoes 💪🏻

message to: jihyo <3

[11:51pm] go ahead <3 txt me deets l8r he's a massive flirt lol

you slide it back into your pocket, and chan's hands leave your skin. he quietly moves your skirt back into place, and his eyes flicker to meet yours. he doesn't look upset at your rejection, moreso a bit grateful. "you're cute. you ask too many questions, and i'm still upset with you, but you're incredibly cute."

it's just the liquor talking. he won't remember any of this, or change his behavior by tuesday. he seems to hold grudges, but you know it's really just emotional blockage. nothing you can't help with, but everything he won't let you help with.

"maybe come to class and i might let you cum in me. you'd like that, wouldn't you?" you mumble against his lips, a shiver going through his spine. "let me walk you home." he murmurs, nuzzling his nose against yours. you feel your stomach flip, the gesture so cute you just might let him sleep with you. you capture his lips again, sliding your hand up his chest, fingers softly wrapped at the base of his neck. his hand catches your wrist, sliding it higher.

you give it a soft squeeze as you slither your tongue into his mouth, drawing a soft groan from him. he pulls back, your lips chasing after him as he raises an eyebrow. "who's needy now, huh?" "shut up, let's go." you place a peck to his cheek, and you force your glow back to gold, albeit dimmer than normal. he has his hand on the small of your back as you exit the bathroom. he slides it around your waist, his fingers softly digging into your hip before he stops dead in his tracks. "what?"

you're whispering as you follow his eyes, seeing a blond guy in a baseball jersey staring back at him as he sneaks out of the closet you passed. a girl is gripping his hand, floating behind him. the guy turns on his heels, quickly weaving his way through the people crowding the hall, the girl giving a hazy smile as he drags her through.

"in a closet? really?" he shakes his head, and you feel his hand squeeze your waist. "sorry." "no worries. could've been us if you showed up to class." you tease as he guides you through the crowd, and you spot minnie watching you sneak your way through the people. she wiggles her eyebrows, and you just shake your head as chan opens the front door, letting you out first as he grabs his jacket from his friend.

"shit, it's colder than a witch's tits out here." you chatter, and chan quickly joins you on the porch, sliding the jacket over his arms. "it really is. which way do you live?" the walk is quiet, besides the leaves crunching under your shoes. he's close enough that his cologne meets your nose, but not close enough to where you can touch him and not be overdoing it. the taste of his lips was not enough to satiate you.

"why are you so mean to me?" you ask, not daring to look at him. he hums in response, before grabbing your shoulders, swinging his arm over you. you instinctively wrap your own around his waist, your fingers brushing the same sliver of skin you'd eyed earlier that night. you're burning up against him, and he welcomes the heat as your hips bump.

"i'm normally not this uptight." he starts, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "i don't like answering questions about my personal life, much less my abilities. or lack thereof, rather. it was too soon when you asked, i'm still trying to figure myself out. i'm very lost in that area of my life, and if i don't find out soon, i'm not sure how i'll make a living. please don't think i'm only this way with you, i'm just feeling stuck. it's like i'm running out of time." you take in his words, nodding silently. you know your magic is taking over him as he speaks, because you feel your glow dimming more and more as you keep walking. "i don't know what that feels like, chan. i'm sorry, genuinely. i truly do want you to understand that i am here to help as much as i can, not just as a professor but as…a friend, i guess." "mmh, i don't think you can help." he squeezes your arm gently as you make a left turn. "i'm too far gone, i believe. i thought about what you said, the emotional blockage thing. and i know that you're using your fingers to seep your funky little magic into me so i talk about myself and get things moving for your peace of mind." his fingers pat yours lingering on his hip, and you sheepishly go to move them.

he holds them in place, as you guide him to the gate of your complex. "i don't mind talking to you, or answering your questions. i really, really admire you as a person and sorceress. the selflessness, you're one of the kindest people i've ever had the pleasure of meeting. you just have to give me some time to warm up to you."

he stops in front of the gate, letting you punch in the code before sliding his arm off your shoulders. "i want to apologize for my behavior. i know i've been increasingly bitchy and standoffish, i'm just stressed. i'm sorry, and i'm sorry for taking it out on you. i know you're just trying to help."

"won't you come in? it's rather late and i'd hate to have you walk back alone." your eyes are slightly pleading, and he raises a brow. "are you sure?" 

you shrug, holding the gate open. he walks past you, not comfortable enough to slide his arm over you once more. he feels the warmth of you as you float past, and he follows quietly. unlocking the door, his eyes peer into your apartment, and it's just like your classroom. 

the lights are dimmed, and your couch is the same velvety green. it smells like bambinella pear and bergamot, and your walls are littered with photos and articles. many of them penned by you, he notices, as he skims them. "feel at home?" you chuckle, and he hears the rustling of your coat as you slip it off.

"mhm, it smells nice in here." he nods as he continues observing articles, before bumping into your side table. he looks down and sees a newspaper from seven years ago, a smiling face staring back at him.

spellbound prodigy involved in an automobile accident puts the world of wizardry at risk.

he skims the paper, seeing your name repeated over and over again but yet, no mention of the person in the photo. no age, no name.

"oh, you found that?" you're behind him, and you take hold of the paper, letting it droop over your hands. "who is that?" you sigh, your fingernail tracing the man's face. "minhwi. he was my best friend from primary school until the summer of 2017. that's when the accident happened." setting the paper back down, you pat the picture before floating to the kitchen, your golden glow gone as it begins to turn dark red.

"it's grief, the hue." you wave your hand at yourself as chan leans against the island, his eyes softening as you pour water in a glass, sliding it to him. the color dims as you turn to him, sitting on the bar stool. "i know, you're wondering how i'm involved in the accident."

chan looks down, and you let out an airy chuckle. "god, i hate talking about this." you rub your thighs, before looking up. "he told me he was in love with someone, and i encouraged him to make the hour drive to see her. i even offered to tag along, even though it was into the human world."

you're nervous, and chan can feel it. he rounds the island, sliding onto the stool beside you. you twist to face him as he takes your hands in his. how cute, you think.

"there was a really bad thunderstorm, but minhwi literally used to race cars for money. rain or shine, he was an expert behind the wheel. he won so many, and i was there for almost all of them. he called me his biggest cheerleader." chan's thumb wipes at your face, and you hadn't even known you were crying. you feel your chest ache as his hand lingers, before dropping back to your lap. "lightning struck one of the oak trees lining the backway route into town. minhwi tried to swerve out of the way, and we wound up spinning out. the tree landed on the car, and the weight crushed us, and there was glass everywhere. he died on impact."

you sniffle, and chan's eyes are glossy as he clears his throat. "and you blame yourself?" "absolutely." nodding, you interlace your fingers with chan's. "and the fact that i survived and he didn't, it kills me inside. it's not like he would've been able to, he was a…" you trail off, and chan's eyes match yours in size.

"...he was human." he finished, and you can't look at him. "you exposed the world of magic and our practices, to a human." you stay silent, before his arms envelope you in a hug. the burn you feel is almost debilitating, but you feel blue crawling up your neck as he rubs your back softly. "i'm sorry for your loss, y/n."

"that's it?" you blurt, and he laughs against your neck like he did earlier. "yeah, it's not like i can judge you, and it's not like humans don't know we exist. we're just frowned upon, it's not a crime to involve yourself with them. love makes us do crazy things." he pulls back, and you let blue overtake you. "i'm genuinely sorry about your friend. he sounds like he was a great time." "he was. i haven't talked about him since. all i have left is the scars from the accident." you shrug, taking a sip of your water. "scars?"

you flash a smile at him, before shaking your head. "just know, if i ever do let you in my pants, the shirt stays on, not because i'm insecure but because i hate looking at them."

he nods, a shy look crossing his eyes before he closes them. "can i ask you for a favor? before you go to bed, i mean?" "sure, anything." you tuck your hair behind your ears, sitting up. "that emotional blockage you spoke about, you can…remove that, right? i'm not too sure what your powers are." he mumbles as he picks at his nails, and you smile. "i can. would you like me to do that for you?" his eyes look to yours, and you see fear flash through them. "it doesn't hurt, channie. come on, i can do it right now." you slide off the stool, holding your hand out to him. he takes your hand, but instead of following you, he pulls you towards him.

your chest is flush to his, and you see a subtle blush on his cheeks as he dips his head, lips brushing against yours. you relax in his hold, letting your lips mold against his. you can't feel anything but heat and his tongue teasing yours, but it's no big deal (you're trying to convince yourself at this point.) his hands move to hold your face, his fingers burning your skin when he pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours.

"not tonight, i don't think i'm ready." he whispers against your lips, and you open your eyes to look into his hazy ones. nodding, you press another chaste kiss on his mouth. "whenever you're ready, channie. i'll be here."

"i'll take the couch." he plants one last kiss on your forehead, and you nod. "if you insist. goodnight, channie." "goodnight, y/n." he watches your glowing form trail down the hall, likely towards your bedroom.

and he sees a hint of indigo spreading across your back as you shut the door behind you.

tuesday – december 15.

chan is a lot nicer as the next two weeks go by. still shows up to class, even early, since your escapade after the party. he finds himself staring at you more often than not, and you're not the only one who notices.

minnie often slips you knowing looks, and you find yourself growing shy as you look to see chan peeking at you over his laptop, eyes glowing that bright violet you've come to adore.

"alright, everybody. have a good weekend!" you smile cheerfully as they file out, your glow now bright blue. the girls had mentioned you looked much more relaxed these days, and you attributed it to 'more sleep.'

you didn't really know what it was. you'd woken up glowing indigo the day after the party, and almost everyday after that. you flickered indigo when you caught chan in the hallway before class on tuesday, and when he hung back a little too long on thursday. really, if you even glanced at chan, you'd flash the dark color and leave the students rubbing at their eyes.

chan, on the other hand, was constantly looking for ways to talk to you.

he saw the flustered flickering, the confusion of your body as it glitched from hue to hue. at one point you had splotches of indigo, pink and your natural gold all over you. you still flirted back at mingyu's advances, albeit he calmed down noticeably. he observed that mingyu was on his phone more often, and you later found out through minnie that he was utterly romanced by jihyo. you thought it funny, and teased him about it (and jihyo, the next time you saw her for coffee and pastries.)

"hey, can we talk?" chan is standing behind you as you wave off your students, and you jump at the closeness. "sure, channie. what's up? is this about your final project?"

it wasn't an unreasonable question. the semester was coming to an end, the students looked visibly stressed and you hadn't heard of any parties since.

but, you knew it was unreasonable for your situation with chan. you never missed his longing glances at your lips, or the fact that he was early to class. his friends changbin and jisung often trailed behind him as he walked to class, and he only introduced you to them because they wouldn't stop badgering him at the doorway. "she's even prettier up close," jisung had said dreamily, and you just gave him a soft smile as you watched him bump into the doorframe.

"not really? maybe." he rubs his neck, and you tilt your head. "what's going on?" 

"uh, i think i'm ready. for what we talked about…the night of the party." he swallows thickly, and you feel taken aback. "oh? what brought this on?" you float to the back, patting the same couch he sits in during class. you tuck your legs under you, holding your head up with the wall. his knees brush yours as he sits, and you wince at the heat you feel in your chest.

"i started the essay you assigned last night." he can't look at you, and you find your stomach to grow increasingly tight. "yeah?" "i can't write anything. i have six drafts already, and i feel so overwhelmed." he's nibbling on his lip, almost as though not to cry. you lean closer, his eyes glassy as they meet yours. frowning, your hand finds home on his jaw, your thumb wiping a few fallen tears. "i'm here, i can help. we can do it here." 

you get up, moving the tables back towards the walls. he watches you as you move, and your back is splotched with indigo. he still doesn't know what it means, but you shiver as it creeps up your neck. your hand flies to your nape, rubbing your skin. it dissipates, returning to your golden glow.

"need an open space. are you sure?" you motion for him to join you in the center of the room, and he nods. you can already feel the same heat on your skin as he settles in front of you, and the same eerie cold of indigo on your shoulders. you huff, sliding your cardigan onto the floor and rolling up your sleeves. "i have to touch your skin for this, okay? and don't worry about anything else, just keep your eyes on me." he's nervous as he lets you take his shaky hands, a soft pout on your lips as you close your eyes. "i got you, okay? i won't let anything hurt you, you're strong." you're muttering, but he finds comfort in your words. he's sure you say this to everybody.

until you start glowing a blinding blaze of indigo, your face scrunched, wincing as the room cools significantly. you're brighter than he's ever seen, possibly brighter than the fluorescent lights that line the university halls. your grimace grows as you furrow your brows deeply, the glow around you seemingly like a flame. he just watches silently as you drop one of his hands.

"can you lift your shirt for me?" your voice is strangled. your eyes are screwed shut, and he quickly does so, your hand trembling as it makes contact. your skin feels like it's on fire, and you don't know what's happening that you can only hear ringing. you'd never felt anything this intensely, but you persist as your hand palms around his torso, before reaching the center. you splay your fingers, pressing into his skin. 

you flash green for a second, so quick he almost misses it.

sliding your hand up his chest, you find the base of his throat. a sigh slips through your lips, and you pull him closer. placing his hand on your waist before moving yours in his hair. you flash slightly pink as he slips his other hand on your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. 

"this might feel a little cold." you murmur, and you dim entirely. the glow around you is now gone, a soft grey floating off you. it runs to the floor, like sand, and forms different grainy figures. kind of like…sandcastles. you open your eyes, despite the damn near inferno heat where your skin meets his.

"these are all your blockages." you pull his shirt down, and move his hands from your hips. to your right, is a grainy woman that splits into several more women. next to her, are two figures, who seem to disappear into another figure, a forest. you skirt around him, holding him in place with a hand on his hip. behind him, is another figure.

shaped kind of like you. your thighs, your arms, your hair.

"what…do they mean?" you're snapped out of your process by his voice, and you sigh. "this one…channie, you have to find better coping mechanisms. sleeping with women for stress relief is not good for you. i know it feels good, but there are other things you can do. ever tried puzzles?"

you sink to the floor, pulling him with you. you move the figures next to each other in front of you, the sand-like texture sticking to your skin. gesturing to the women, you keep talking.

"casual sex is awful, when you compare it to relationship sex. shit, even hate sex. at least you feel something other than lust for the person you're fucking." you grimace, and he nods. with a wave of your hand, the sand collapses. "these next three…you can pick which you want first." he glances at them, his hand subconsciously searching for yours. you grab it, and he points at the two people. you let your skin burn as you begin to talk, his fingers tightening around your palm. "these…are your parents, and the forest around the university." the room stills, and chan lets go of your hand. "what about them?" "you're afraid they're not proud of you. you feel like you're missing out on your experiences with them, because…" you wince as an aftershock racks your body, making you shiver. you miss chan's nervous glance. "because they're distant. you feel like an outcast from your family, and it affects the way you form bonds here. it's hard for you to build friendships, and it's hard for you to establish relationships because you fear being loved. or maybe loving, and not being loved back"

taking a breath, you pull your knees to your chest.

"the forest is representative of your lost feeling. all the trees look the same, and it makes you feel like you're constantly going in circles. everyone here is identical, we all have something special. you find it hard to relate because although you know there is something that makes you like us, you're unaware of what it is." he nods, and you let the figures drop.

"this one…" you're mumbling, and he leans slightly closer to hear you. sighing, you pull the figure of you closer. raising your arm, the figure raises her arm. "that's me." his head snaps to look at you, your eyes burning holes into the floor. you glance at the figure, collapsing it. all the figures pool together, and you lean forward, blowing it like you would dust off a bookshelf. it disappears, and chan leans back on his hands.

"what about you?" he murmurs, and you shake your head, moving to lie through your teeth. "i don't know." "you're lying." you feel your glow return, flickering gold. "y/n, tell me what it means." "i can't." you shrug, "i don't know what it means. did this help? do you feel better?"

he's peering at you, his eyes swirling violet. you raise a brow as you look at him over your shoulder, and he just shakes his head. getting up, he stalks back to the couch. you watch as he shoves his arms into his hoodie, and you simply get up, floating towards your desk.

he grabs your arm, pulling you closer to him. you sense the frost of indigo across your mid-back. you turn his hold, eyes glued to his fingers wrapped around your arm. "why?"

"hm?" "why can't you tell me?" his eyes are insistent in their violet glory. chills run down your back, indigo spreading over your hips as you run your eyes over him. he's so beautiful. "because…i can't reciprocate."

he doesn't understand, you can tell as he keeps looking at you. kind of like he wants to eat you alive, but also like he wants you to vanish.

"it means you're in love with me, or you will be. you don't like the idea of it, because it means you'll have to open up to me. that kind of…figure doesn't change, even if you want it to. you won't get the option to leave me out of your heart, and it will be unrequited for the rest of our lives. you will love me, forever, and you won't get a say in it." he lets go, brows furrowed, and his face is deep red in embarrassment. you take a step forward, and your hands instinctively reach for his waist. he allows it as he crosses his arms across his chest, his eyes fixated on you, waiting for you to speak.

"i can't love, chan." you whisper, and feel indigo overwhelm you. pursing your lips, you look down so as to not let him see the tears forming. "trust me when i say i wish i could. i wish i could love you, the way you deserve. i could wake up every morning and reach for you, but you would never be there because i can't give you what you need." the tears are dripping off your face now, pattering on the rug beneath your feet. you let go of him, your fingers tugging your shirt up, slipping it over your head. your hair falls to your shoulders, and you push it back, dropping your shirt on your desk. his eyes soften as he looks at the curve of the wide scar – like an insignia, it's carved into your skin. it starts on your shoulder, curving around it the way a fallen bra strap would. it trails down your sternum, before splitting at your diaphragm. a sharp point ends right under your left breast, while the other curves to the right of your belly button, ending on your hip.

"there is nothing i could do in this world that could ever get me in trouble, because i have this." speaking softly, you lift the cup of your bra, showing him where x marks the spot – directly above your heart. "the coven said this was my punishment for minhwi's involvement in this world, and the outrage i sparked. i can't feel love, and i haven't for so long that even if i did, i wouldn't know what it's like. i won't ever feel what it's like to be loved again, because i don't deserve it."

chan's eyes are glossed over as he brings his hand to your skin, the singe making you grimace as his fingers trace the border lightly. he tucks his lip in his teeth as he touches your shoulder, and your glow flickers slightly brighter. he pulls you in, burying his nose in your hair. "everyone deserves love. this is not your fault, i'm sorry things happened this way." you pull back, his eyes glistening with tears as he thumbs the scar on your shoulder. you give him a sad smile, shrugging in his hold. "it's life. life goes on, but for what it's worth…if i could, i'm sure you'd take great care of me."

"i still can." he says, reaching for your shirt. "i'm a pleaser, really. reciprocation has never been an issue." 

"are you seriously making a pass at me? after i just told you all of that? have some shame." you let an airy chuckle slip through your lips as you take your shirt from him, and he just smiles. one, two dimples. "not being able to love doesn't mean you shouldn't be able to cum. just saying." you gasp, landing a gentle smack on his arm before sliding your shirt on. "chan, stop it! what did i say about casual sex, hm?" pointing an accusatory finger in his direction, he cages you between your desk and his firm chest. "didn't we just talk about this? you know it's not casual." you know it's not casual.

"just once, think about yourself, yeah? do yourself a favor." he places a chaste kiss on your nose, and you feel your cheeks heat as he peppers his lips over them. you let a giggle bubble in your throat, his lips stopping over your lips. "just think about it." he gives your lips a quick kiss, before pulling back.

"it's late, let me walk you home?" he offers a gentle look in his eyes. you just nod, grabbing your purse from the back of your desk. you decide you'll move the tables back on thursday, sliding your cardigan up your arms. "aren't you cold?" he asks, sliding his arm over your shoulders like he did the night of the party, as you lock the classroom door.

"no, actually. i don't know if you feel it, but every time you touch me, i feel like i'm on fire." you chuckle lightly as you start walking, and his breath hitches. glancing at him, he just moves the two of you forward. "chan?" "mhm?" he doesn't look at you, and you stop walking. crossing your arms, he sighs. "it's not a big deal." he shrugs, trying to shake the subject by tugging you slightly closer. you frown, wrapping your arms around his waist. your eyes are fixed on him, and he can't help but coo.

"you're so pretty." he squishes your face with his free hand, and continues walking forward. "does it bother you?" you ask, your fingers drumming on his hip. the air is so frigid, and so is indigo as it fights chan's warmth. you just have to let me warm up to you.

he did so awfully fast.

"does what bother me?" he's tracing circles in your shoulder, the movement scorching. he seems so relaxed, so unperturbed by anything. you'd never seen his face so calm, used to the furrow of his brows or the bags under his eyes darker than they should be. "the fact that i won't be able to love you back." he chuckles, fingers squeezing your shoulder. "i'm used to it, as pathetic as it sounds. love is not my forte, or for the people around me. jisung is surprisingly able to get into almost anyone's pants, and can't settle down for shit. changbin is sickeningly in love with his best friend, and do you remember that guy we saw at the party? the one sneaking out of the closet?" 

you nod, and he laughs. "that's seungmin. that girl he was with, they broke up back in august. they've been fucking around ever since. if they're both at a party, they're hooking up. can't seem to stay away from each other, in a desperate attempt to stay on each other's minds, i guess? it's cute, i think." he shrugs. you feel your heart skip a beat, looking  down to see a white glow on your chest. you ignore it, probably glowing silver as you feel the emptiness, the longing to understand what he means.

"so no. it doesn't bother me, it never will. you get used to it."

it pains you a bit, to hear him sound so…well, used to it. so accustomed to settlement, so unbothered by a lack of reciprocation. selfless, really.

wednesday – december 16.

chan wound up spending the night at your apartment. he insisted on taking the couch before you physically pulled him into your room. the moment his back hit the mattress, he ate his words as you tickled him, forcing him to admit that it was more comfortable.

really, you'd just wanted an excuse to wake up next to him. maybe see his bed head, run your fingers through it, exchange a morning kiss. all of that stupid couple shit that you would never fully experience.

because love makes you do stupid things, like spin out on a backroad and die. so you don't deserve to feel it, and really, it keeps you safe. you have no idea what it's like to love anymore and you pretend you're okay with it. you soothe by saying that not all can be felt, not all that can be desired should be had.

but fuck, if you didn't like chan before, you certainly do now.

there's no reason for this. for him standing in your living room, holding a cup of coffee as he reads through the articles you've written and framed. for him to look so cute in your old abba shirt that's too tight on his arms, for his eyes to be swollen with sleep as he blinks over the mug. for him to be so effortlessly unaware of his beauty, of his own effects. on you, on the people in his life.

"you're up." his voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you feel your cheeks heat as you nod. "your hair is a mess. here, let me fix it." 

he sets down his cup, calmly running his hand through your mussed hair. the curls fight him as he tucks them behind your ears, his fingers lingering on your lobes as you stare at him. your indigo glow reflects on his skin, his head tilted as he speaks. "what? cat got your tongue, professor?"

your mouth opens to retort, but you have nothing to say. nothing comes out. you feel orange flicker through you as you close your mouth, earning a squeaky laugh from the man in front of you. "cute. there's coffee in the kitchen, i just made it." 

he doesn't have morning classes on wednesdays, you figure as he follows you to the kitchen. because it's eleven thirty and he's still in your apartment, in your shirt, with his hands on your waist, and you don't care one bit as you pour yourself a cup of coffee.

"are you upset? you haven't said a word." his thumbs work into the small of your back, and you shudder at his touch, before you shake your head. "i'm not used to having people here so early." "it's nearly noon, y/n." he laughs airily, his breath tickling your neck. "still, so early." 

you try and ignore the heat in your chest, far stronger than it had ever been before as his fingers carefully dip below the waistband of your sweats, coming out just as quickly. "you weren't in bed when i woke up." you're muttering, but his proximity makes him hear you anyway.

"aw, did you want to wake up in my arms like they do in the movies?" he's teasing you. you scoff in embarrassment, eyes not catching the subtle white glow on your chest as you turn in his hold. "no way, pft. i like spreading my limbs like a starfish, you were crowding me all night." "hey, i offered to take the couch." he shrugs, and you just shake your head. "should've insisted a little more, then i wouldn't have felt so cold when i realized you weren't there." you joke as you set down your cup, and he raises a brow. "didn't think it would bother you, but that can be fixed." "chan–" you squeal as he hooks his arms under your thighs, your own flying to his shoulders. your legs wrap around his waist as he marches the both of you to your bedroom. "chan, don't you have classes today?" "don't you?" he kisses your forehead gently as he sets you down on your bed, pushing you back lightly. you roll your eyes, trying to hide your excitement as he slips under your duvet. he tugs you closer, your back to his chest. if he cares about the scorching heat of your skin touching, he doesn't mention it as he settles his head in the crook of your neck, reaching to intertwine your fingers with his. he holds your hand tightly, nestling it between your breasts. "if you wanted to touch my boobs, you could've just asked." "shut up, let me hold you. be selfish, for once." he nips at your earlobe, and you sigh. tender kisses trail your neck, and you can feel pink creeping down your thighs as he gives your hand a squeeze. "is this okay?"

"mhm." you can't speak as he lets go of your hand, fingers dancing across the exposed skin of your hip where your shirt has ridden up. he doesn't go up, but instead softly dips into the waistband of your sweats, snapping your underwear against your skin. a whine slips, and you freeze as he pauses. "should i stop?" his voice is raspy in your ear, and your hand grabs his wrist, bringing it lower. "it's alright. you can keep going. f-further, if you want."

you curse yourself at the stutter, hearing a soft chuckle in his throat as his fingers pad over the fabric of your panties. your breath hitches in your throat as he circles the wet spot you've been presented with, a shaky sigh escaping chan as he rocks against you. you feel pink envelope in its warmth as you turn onto your back, holding his hand in place as you capture his lips. he kisses you back fervently, his fingers never stopping their movements on your clothed heat. 

"c-can you…" you whimper against his lips, his hand never slowing as you move against it, brows furrowed. he watches as you try to form words, your eyes screwed shut as your hand tugs his away. "can you go d-down on me?" barely a whisper as you peel your eyes open, and he swears they hold the stars.

"i'd kill a man if you asked me." he shrugs, and you just roll your eyes. tugging your sweats off, he gets a glimpse of the way your panties stick to your lower lips, his heart racing in his chest knowing he's got you soaking.

he could make you cum with them on. he's positive.

spreading your thighs slowly, he watches as you hook your thumbs into the waistband. he pushes your hands away, not bothering to address your confusion as he holds them in place, sinking between your legs. he can't help but tease, dragging his soft lips up your skin, watching you shudder at the contact. he moves to grip your hips, your shirt rising and the end of your scar becoming visible. his eyes flicker to yours, "shirt stays on, right?"

"y-yeah." you look away, and he rubs your hip reassuringly. "s'alright, baby. i can make you cum just like this, if you want."

it's not a question, you can tell as he kisses the pink cotton of your panties. he has no intention of taking them off, he might not even fuck you, but you don't care. all that matters are his eyes peering into your fucking soul as he dips his head down, a chaste kiss pressed to your hip. he trails down, hands circling your plush thighs as he litters them with kisses. your eyes are watching him nervously, lip tucked under your teeth to stop the soft pants from echoing the room. you feel like you can't breathe as he pulls you closer to his face, pressing that strong nose into you, inhaling deeply. "you smell so fucking good, baby." he's not even doing anything, but the vibrations of his moan against you elicit a whimper from your throat, making you buck your hips forward. his grip tightens as he nuzzles his nose against your clit, placing a soft kiss on it before he speaks against it.

"be nice, or i'll make you scream." he smiles into your underwear, tonguing your clit through the fabric. he watches as your glow grows brighter, pulling you impossibly closer. he's letting you grind on his face, to use him for your pleasure, and you'd be lying if that doesn't make you that much more wet for him. "y-you don't want to take them off?"

your stuttering is adorable to him, and the way your fingers card through his hair and tug adds to his own pleasure. shaking his head, he snaps the waistband against you again, "you're so needy, aren't you? can't get off just like this?" "channie, p-please. please, i want your f-fingers." he hums against your clit, continuing his cruel lapping, the sound of your pussy against his face obscene and sloppy. "you can beg better than that. tell me how bad you want it, baby." "w-want it so bad, channie, please. please, i'll be g-good for you, p-promise. s-so good." you're almost sobbing, and he almost feels bad. a gentle laugh leaves his throat as he thumbs your slit, leaving sticky strings against his skin as he gives in. "so good? so, so good for me? is that right?" he slides the flimsy fabric down your legs, the exposure to the cool air making you shiver. he's watching your face contort as he collects your arousal on his fingers, before slowly teasing your entrance. "i swear to god, chan-" your retort gets cut off by a gasp, his fingers hitting just right, his lips sucking tortuously on your clit. he likes it messy, is all you can think in your fucked out state as you coat his entire hand in your slick, feeling him groan against your pussy.

"look at you, so pretty. you're a good girl for me, right? you're gonna soak the sheets, hm?" he feels you clamp around his fingers, another wave of your arousal glazing his palm as you sob. "fuck, you sound so hot." "c-channie..." you rasp, your voice so low he almost misses it. he peers at you over your soft tummy, your lips swollen and covered in your spit from biting back your moans. you're actively whining, grinding against his hand in a weak attempt at reaching your release. "aw, baby wants to cum? is that it?"

you whimper, making him curl his fingers inside your wet heat. he seemed to have found the perfect spot as you arched your back off the bed, attempting to pull away from him. his left arm holds you tightly in place, your fingers clutching his wrist as your choked moan rings blissfully in his ears. your thighs close around him, his soft shh doing nothing to quiet you down as you let your orgasm wrack your legs. his lips pepper kisses all over your pelvis, mumbles of praises as he works his way up. 

he hovers over your face, pressing his soft lips on your cheek. you wrap your arms around his neck, shivering at the way his fingers pinch your clothed nipple lightly. "you can give me one more, right? just one more, princess." he's murmuring against your skin, and you nod as he reaches your lips. 

"just one more?" you nip at his lower lip, before sinking in to kiss him. "just one. want to feel you around me, want to know how good i'm making you feel." you realize it's important to chan, despite what he said the night before. he wanted to be praised, he wanted to make somebody proud, even if this was the only way he felt he could do it. he could act like he's this statue, this emotionless, needless creature of nature – but he also desired approval, to be needed, to be wanted.

to be loved.

you don't say anything as you let his hands push your knees to your chest, his lips now suckling on your nipple through your shirt. your hands move to his head, pushing it away as you go to slip it off. his hands let go of your legs, entwining your fingers with his brows furrowed. "you don't have to." "i want to." you quip back quickly, tugging your fingers out of his grasp. you hook them at the hem of your shirt, lightly lifting off the bed to slide it off. he hesitates, his eyes tracing the curves of the raised skin. the way it glows lightly, almost as though it's losing its defined edges.

his eyes flicker to yours, your gaze intently scanning his face. did you think he'd be disgusted? maybe even repulsed? lowering his head, he brushed a kiss to your lips, before he allowed himself to sink to your chest. you breathed in nervously, your fingers gripping the sheets next to your body when you felt his mouth planting feather-light touches to your scar.

he can feel your skin heat under his face, the more he travels along the healed welt. the glow is slightly brighter than your overall pink, as you shudder under him, his hands pulling your fingers into his, the crumpled sheets forgotten as he pins your arms above your head.

"you're so beautiful. gorgeous, ethereal. no words could express how lovely you are." he whispers as he presses one final kiss where x marks the spot, and you jolt lightly at the singe you feel. it spreads, the whole insignia across your torso burning deeply as he moves back. his eyes are flashing with something you can't read. "chan…" "sorry." he shakes his head, his thumbs rubbing circles into your hands. you tilt your head at him, before glancing at his body, a smile spreading on your plump lips. "are you going to fuck me with all your clothes on?"

"i can." he smiles, and you raise an eyebrow. "off, all of it." 

standing off the side of your bed, he tugs your old abba shirt off, and you watch with sinful eyes as he flings it away. "stop staring at me." he whispers, and you shake your head playfully. "you said you'd kill a man if i asked, and gave me the best head of my life, but i can't watch you strip?" 

"the best, huh?" he ignores everything else he slips his sweats off, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed. "don't get cocky, or this won't count as extra c-credit." your eyes peer at him, the leaking head of his thick cock already teasing your folds lightly. his hands circle your legs once more, pulling one over his shoulder while folding the other close to your chest. he stares at your soaked cunt, the way it clenches around nothing. so inviting, so wet, so ready for him.

"that's alright, let's count it as the first class i missed. what was it, getting to know me? ask me something." he continues his teasing, watching as you squirm against him. "uhm, o-okay. what's your favorite color?"

"really?" he rubs against you lightly, his tip dragging over your clit so menacingly, you swear you could cum from just that. "hm, i like black." "black is an ab-absence of color, fuck." you dig your nails into your thighs as he shallowly thrusts into you, the lack of warning wracking a shudder up your spine. "mm, if you can't keep talking there's going to be an absence of dick in about two seconds."

"n-no, no please. shit, that feels so good." you can't keep your eyes open as he slowly sinks further into you, stilling his movements as you tuck your lip into your teeth. "ah, ah. eyes open, keep talking to me." his fingers lightly tap your cheek, your skin burning in embarrassment as you peel your eyes open. "next question, baby." "b-biggest accomplishment so f-far?" you swallow thickly as his hips are flush against your ass, allowing you to adjust to the size of him before making any more movements. he leans his head against your ankle, brows furrowed as he speaks. "probably making you cum so hard, you cry." you narrow your eyes as you look at him, "you h-haven't, though?" "but i will." he kisses your shin, giving an experimental thrust of his hips. your eyes flutter shut, a silent gasp from your lips turning to soft mewls as he starts a gentle pace. "next question." "d-do you believe in love at first s-sight?" you feel him hesitate, before he gives you a particularly harsh thrust. "somewhat." he rubs your thigh gently before continuing his brutal ministrations. "harder, please." silently, he obliges, letting your breathy moans fill his ears instead of talking. he hates talking, he hates answering questions, but he can't help and adore the tone of your voice, the softness of your queries, the avoidance in answering his.

"you feel so good, channie, holy shit." he can feel you clenching tightly around him, but lets your praise take precedence. the way you're arching your back off the mattress, hairline lined with beads of sweat as you let him fuck into you, just the way you like. the way you seem to love, as he lowers to whisper in your ear. "next question."

the proximity makes everything feel like it's a thousand degrees, your hands flying to his hair as he sucks on your collarbone lightly. "favorite s-song? ah!' you hiss at his teeth on your skin, feeling his grin against you.

"your voice." his thrusts are slowly becoming less steady, but you don't care. you don't care because his skin is scorching hot, he's holding you to him, you can feel the air of his pants against your neck and he feels so good.

there's no reason for this. for him to be blissfully ruining you while holding you flush to his chest, your nipples touching with every roll of his hips. for him to look so good while he defiles you, the way you're not even speaking coherently in his ear. for your soul to feel like it's aching for more of him, but how much more could you have when you can't love him. for him to be so effortlessly unaware of his beauty, of his own effects, on you, as the white-hot of your orgasm starts approaching fast.

"i…" you feel a sob rip through you, and he instinctively pulls away from you. "hey, hey. it's alright, baby." guilt fills his chest, his hands holding your face as the tears stream down your cheeks. "it's alright, we don't have to–" pushing yourself up on your elbows, you smash your lips to his, feeling yourself glow so hot you're practically on fire. it's all teeth and tongue, and you're wrapping your fingers around his throat before he can react. squeezing gently, he whines into your mouth, his hips snapping erratically against you. you swallow his sounds in your quiet sobs, the tears dripping down your neck doing nothing to cool you down. 

"y/n…" he whines pitifully against your lips, and you can feel his pout emerge as you clench around him. he settles his face in the crook of your neck, cheeks flushed. "p-please don't stop, don't stop, e-ever…" you're just as needy as he is, throwing your head back as he bites at your shoulders, your hand on his throat tightening as he sends you over the edge.

"fuck, baby." the whimper into your shoulder does nothing good for him as you clench around him, milking whatever is left of him, hips driving you both into overstimulation. he slows, his head lifting from your shoulder to peer into your eyes. you avoid them, letting go of his throat and wiping them off with the back of your hand.

the room feels heavy, with guilt. shame. maybe even a bit of hatred, but you’re not entirely sure as he kisses you gently, chastely, before pulling back. his eyes hold the sun, the stars, the moon.

"guess you got your biggest accomplishment, huh?" you chuckle thickly, and he shakes his head, pulling out slowly. his eyes avert to your center, watching his cum drip out of you slowly. he feels weird, it's such a waste. "are you okay? i should've asked sooner, i'm sorry." "no, no. it was…it was really good." you admit, feeling your glow flicker. you close your legs, scooting up on the bed as he reaches for your shirt, you cross your arms over your chest, fingers digging into your sides. "i really liked it, actually." "are you sure?" he's absent, you can tell as he wipes the back of your legs gently, before tossing the shirt over his shoulder. "i'm sorry for crying, i know it was really sudden. i just felt so overwhelmed and you felt so good, and i…" you trail off, and he feels his cheeks heat, shaking his head again. "no, it's fine. that was the goal, after all. i…do you want me to go?" your brows furrow, and you tilt your head. "go? why would i want you to go?" he shrugs, not meeting your eyes as he tugs on his sweatpants. "i don't know, i usually leave after…things like this." "what happened to 'you know it's not casual?'" you use air quotes, and you see his cheeks burn bright red. "i…i don't think i'd be able to do this, especially after what we talked about yesterday."

"do…what? we just had sex, it's not a big deal." you uncross your arms, ignoring your blatant nudity as he slips your abba shirt to you, taking it just to toss it to the side. "...act like i don’t care. i really, really like you, y/n, and i already feel so guilty about this." he can't look at you as he slips his hoodie on, the one you'd thrown over your desk chair last night when he said it was too hot to wear to bed.

you close your mouth, pressing your lips into a firm line as you grab the shirt, tugging it over your head. "i figured this would happen. maybe you should go, chan. clear your head, and we can talk later."

your brows are furrowed as you open your bedroom door, and he swallows thickly. he knew what he was getting himself into, so why does it bother him now? he said he wouldn't care, he said it so confidently.

and yet, he can't bring himself to say a word as he slams out of your apartment, eyes full of tears. leaving you feeling dejected, guilty and alone.

thursday – december 17.

it wasn't until the next day that you noticed it was significantly smaller.

it didn't curve under your breast anymore, the subtle x on your skin gone. it didn't wrap around your shoulder anymore, and it stopped right next to your navel. the scarred skin was now a bit paler, and you'd grimaced as you tugged your shirt on.

you couldn't be arsed with thinking about it, really, because now you had to walk into your classroom and face chan. of course, the chances of him not being there were fifty-fifty.

which inherently, made you feel worse.

you didn't understand why you couldn't stop thinking about his words, and what he said. your voice was his favorite song, he didn't care if you loved him or not, he somewhat believed in love at first sight? he'd met you officially a little over a month ago, no one can fall in love that quickly.

groaning, you felt orange flicker across your body as you let your heels clack against the saltillo tile of the hallway, tossing your half-empty coffee cup in the trash can. upon entering your room, the air feels…cooler.

chan is sitting on the couch, his legs squished together as minnie and shuhua peer at his face. soyeon, mingyu and yugyeom are flipping through various textbooks, each talking about what could have caused a sudden irischroma shift. he probably feels the heat of your stare, his eyes flickering to yours.

they're a deep, deep indigo color. they flash lightly at the sight of you, and minnie looks up to see you standing at your podium. "y/n…you've gotta come see this." "i can…i can see it, minnie." your voice is faint as you feel your chest searing hot, your hand coming to soothe it. clearing your throat, you shake your head as you feel a little weary, shuhua approaching you quickly. "are you okay? y/n?" "yes, i'm okay." your breathing becomes a little labored, soyeon and mingyu rushing to your side as you sink to the floor. "just give me some room." your hands touch the cool floor, and you can feel yourself dimming by the second. 

"gyu, get help." minnie shoves mingyu out the door, and you can hear his footsteps fading as he runs to the infirmary. "chan, help me pick her up." yugyeom urges, and you weakly shake your head.

"i'm fine, i'm okay." you choke out, your hand clutching your chest as you feel chan's warm hands on your arms, circling around to lift you gently. "easy, easy. i got you, baby." he murmurs, and you feel your eyes sting with tears as he lets you slump against him, your glow fading fast.

"stay with me." his fingers dig into your side as he picks you up bridal style, carefully walking you over to the couch. yugyeom pulls their backpacks off, letting him lower you gently. minnie fans you with a stack of papers. chan peers at your face, your brows pinched as you breathe in as deeply as you can, his thumb instinctively padding at the crease. huffing, you tear his hand away, lacing your fingers in his. he acts like his heart doesn’t lurch forward.

"alright, everybody, back up." mingyu's voice rings in the room, and your bleary eyes can barely make out the oxygen mask that nurse taeyeon is slipping over your face. "there, there, professor. we got you."

you're shivering as she instructs chan to lift you onto the gurney on three, and you almost cry at the loss of contact when he sets you down. "chan, chan." your voice is nearly a whisper, and the students watch as you flicker, your glow lost as it glitches between colors. 

"maybe you should go with her." yugyeom nudges him as nurse taeyeon glances at him, and she crosses her arms as chan nods slowly,slipping his bag over his shoulder. he takes nurse taeyeon's place at the end of the gurney, rolling you quietly out of the classroom. you're flickering from color to color as he walks slightly faster at nurse taeyeon's command.

"what happened?" she asks, and chan shakes his head as they take a sharp turn, your groan resounding in the hall. "i'm not sure, she just started clutching her chest and basically fell to the floor." nodding, taeyeon stays quiet the rest of the walk, her eyes only glancing at his worried expression and your hazy one. they're in love, she thinks. this is love.

taeyeon can't really help you. her powers lay in the herbalism field, she has no idea what's wrong, and she can't get a specialist here fast enough. she watches as chan carefully positions you in the empty room, letting his bag slide onto the floor before taking a seat at the foot of the bed. she simply sighs, calling that she'd be back with a rosemary tea and to just sit tight as she calls for the master sorcerers.

his hand gently strokes your ankle, making you flinch. "chan, chan i can't breathe." you tug at your collar, and he quickly reaches to unbutton your top buttons. "it's gonna be okay, angel." he's whispering as your hand grasps his wrist, the oxygen mask doing little to help as you wheeze.

"chan…" his head lifts, and your eyes are teary as you hear footsteps approaching hurriedly. he doesn't acknowledge you as the master sorcerers burst into your room, taeyeon trailing behind them with a steaming cup. "excuse me, coming through." she perches at the edge of the bed, carefully pulling you up. you whimper softly, and chan feels his heart ache at your pain. "drink this, it'll help your stress. that's probably what this is, just some anxiety."

taeyeon's tone is soft as she takes off the oxygen mask, the master sorcerers waiting until they can swoop in. neither of them acknowledge chan, despite getting to know him insanely well over the past few years. he could dare to think that they were afraid of him, of not knowing what he was. master sorcerers my ass, he thinks.

"i can't…" you're breathless, and taeyeon's gaze softens as she lets you slump down on the pillow once more. "it's alright. the master sorcerers are here, okay? they'll take care of you." she pats your shoulder, and you nod wearily as the grandest of all, dr. kang seulgi, takes a step forward.

"bang chan, why are you here?" her sharp voice echoes in the room, and your hand weakly reaches for him as he slides off the bed. "i brought her in, dr. kang."

"i see. you can evacuate the premises." she waves him away nonchalantly, and he frowns deeply as he steps back, your eyes fixed on him. almost like you're begging him to stay.

"i think i'll stay, actually." he blurts, and dr. kang's eyes snapped to him. "i'm not asking you, chan, i'm telling you." "let the boy stay, what's the harm?" dr. min's voice rings from his spot against the door frame, and chan glances up at the nimble man. "c'mon, seulgi."

"yoongi, if you undermine me again, you're sleeping on the couch." she grits, her wedding band to dr. min glinting in the low light as she rubs her temples. your hand reaches for chan once more, a soft groan from your lips catching his attention. he takes it, entwining your fingers quickly, kneeling at your side. "of course, jagi. y/n, what seems to be the problem?" dr. min pushes past, noting the undone buttons of your blouse. your chest is glowing, but the rest of you is the dimmest indigo he'd ever seen. much less, having seen you never glow indigo. your breathing is still labored, chest glowing brighter as chan once more rubs the pinch of your brows away.

"y/n, i'm going to open your shirt, okay?" dr. kang pushes past dr. min, her nimble fingers undoing the rest of the buttons. your scar is illuminated, but…it's not really there. it's faded, and chan can tell this is out of the ordinary as dr. kang's brows raise.

"yoongi." her voice is low, bringing her husband to her side. "oh, my."

their eyes meet, as though they're speaking telepathically. dr. kang's eyes flash gold as she furrows her brows, her husband grimacing as his own flash green. they glance at chan, who is gingerly moving your hair out of your face, his fingers barely ghosting over your sticky skin.

you can barely see him through your foggy eyes, but you're scanning him intently. you can see the glowing indigo of his eyes, that matches yours. you're dimming, but he's brighter than ever and it sends a shiver up your spine. his hand squeezes yours, a wave of heat attacking your chest.

dr. kang looks back, her husband staring intently at her.

"he healed her, it seems." his eyes speak, and she shakes her head. "he's not a healer, remember? we tried that already." yoongi nods, eyes fluttering back to the both of you. chan's now sitting on the edge of the bed, your arm draped over his lap as he speaks to you gently. he can't hear what chan is saying, but the glint of adoration in his eyes tells him all he needs to know.

"chan, can i see you in the hallway?" dr. min speaks, and your head turns to him. you pout, your eyes filling with tears as chan pulls away from you. dr. kang gives him a hard glare as she takes his place, her cool hand placed directly on your hot skin, making you groan.

"yes, dr. min?" chan's eyes are enticing, and dr. min shrugs. "let's try a little something, hm?" chan follows dr. min's line of vision, the door of the bathroom ajar. dr. min makes a gesture for chan to wait, before ducking into the bathroom, shutting the door. chan hears a loud crash, and dr. min appears just as fast, with a bloody fist.

"dr. min, are you alright? i can get nurse taeye-" dr. min places his free hand over chan's mouth, a knowing look in his eyes as he holds up his injured hand. "heal me, chan." "what? sir, i'm not a healer, you know that." chan furrows his brows, and dr. min shakes his head. "channel it." dr. min's eyes are boring into chan's soul as he looks away, shivering as he tries to channel any sort of magical energy for this injury. he's not surprised when nothing happens, and dr. min nods his head.

dr. min simply heals it himself, and chan looks away as the skin closes quickly, the dried blood disappearing before his eyes. vitalis mendacium, he thinks it's called. "chan, i think i may have an idea of what's going on with professor y/n." dr. min clasps his hands together in front of him, and chan tilts his head.

"you're in love with her, aren't you?" dr. kang's voice rings from the doorway of your room, and chan gapes at her. "w-what?" "don't play dumb. she told me she helped you clear some emotional blockage on tuesday, and she showed up in your blockages." dr. kang crosses her arms, and a groan is heard from you, chan flinching at the sound. "chan, this is dangerous territory." his eyes narrow as he shakes his head. "i don't think what you did to her was right. i think we all deserve a chance at love, no matter our mistakes. you're wrong, dr. kang." dr. kang scowls, "you think we did this to her? the old coven did it, we had no say!" she points between herself and her husband, and dr. min places his hand on her shoulder.

"chan, seulgi is right. in this world, there is no amount of study done that could reverse what the old coven has done to y/n. they cursed layers upon layers of punishment on her, this was never intended to be something that could be undone." dr. min speaks slowly, and chan can hear you whining in the room behind the couple. he's antsy, he feels sick to his stomach knowing you're a mere ten feet away and he can't make you feel better. 

"i don't know what to do." dr. kang admits lowly, her hand covering her eyes as she looks away from the men in front of her. "i think…" dr. min trails off as chan pushes past them, sliding next to you. he watches chan fan you with his hand, your own wrapped around his waist as you shiver.

"you trust me, right?" he looks to seulgi, who nods her head. "always." his hands spin her around, making her face the two of you. "i think this is his to heal. look how quiet she is in his presence, she's barely moving. her breathing is more steady." "yoongi, he's not a healer." seulgi groans into her hands, her eyes catching a flash of white protruding from you as chan runs his hand down your back. she watches as he helps you peel your jacket off, your baby pink shirt transparent from the sheen of your sweat soaking through.

"maybe not for us, but for her." yoongi mumbles, seeing chan swipe your hair away from your neck, his lips pursed as he blows cool air against your skin. your groan is one of relief as he rocks you, and seulgi glances at her husband, swallowing thickly. "they're so rare, yoongi. there hasn't been one in this dimension in three hundred and twenty five years."

"i think we may have another on our hands." yoongi smiles widely as you slowly prop yourself up on your elbow, chan's worried eyes scanning your face for distress. you make a noise of disgust, your glow returning green steadily as chan helps you sit up. "what happened? ugh, i'm all sweaty."

glancing at your hands, you see them glowing indigo as it spreads up your body. you turn, seeing the master sorcerers staring at you from the doorway. grimacing, you glimpse at chan, who is looking at you intently. "hey, you alright?" his hand is holding your hip, and your frown falters as you look into his eyes. they're glowing bright as he looks you over. "what happened to your eyes?" your voice is raspy, and he looks away, shrugging.

"i'm not sure. they started changing last night." he swallows, and you shudder as indigo engulfs you entirely. "they look…pretty."

he snorts, shaking his head. "you might want to button up your shirt." feeling your cheeks burn, your fingers fumble with the buttons when you feel seulgi's cool hand on your wrist. "wait."

letting her lay you back, you miss chan's warmth as he slips off the bed, lingering from a few feet away as she opens your shirt. her eyes widen as she quickly beckons her husband over. his eyes snake down your torso, and his eyes glint with green as he meets seulgi's. they're silent, their faces moving as they communicate.

"y/n?" dr. kang's voice is low as she runs her hand through your mussed curls, and you meet her line of vision. her eyes are soft, staring at your torso. "y/n, do you know the history of psychosomatic healers?"

raising a brow, you nod your head. "yeah, they're the rarest of the healing trifecta. there hasn't been one in this dimension since 1699, and even then there's only seven recorded cases because they're so difficult to pinpoint at commencement." dr. min steps forward, noticing chan's eyes glued to the floor as dr. kang examines you further.. "y/n, i'd like to try something, if you don't mind." nodding, you allow dr. kang to take your arm in her hand, pulling your sleeve off your shoulder. 

with a quick swipe of her nails, you're bleeding. you gape at her, a scoff flying from your lips when chan looks up, the sound tearing him from his thoughts. "are you serious, seulgi?" you push her away, flickering orange and dr. min beckons chan forward. "touch her, chan."

taking a deep breath, chan gets closer to you, his nose scrunching at the blood seeping into your shirt. he takes your hand in his, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your skin. you look away from your shoulder, zeroing in on the subtle touch of affection when a white glow catches everyone's eyes. tugging at your shirt sleeve, seulgi reveals a clean shoulder, no injury visible.

"a psychosomatic healer can only heal those they love." she states, her eyes boring into chan's as he tries to tug his hand away, but you only use it as leverage to sit up. "what the fuck are you guys on about?" "there's no way you're that dumb, y/n." seulgi snorts, her manicured fingernail pointing at your chest. "i don't know how he did it, and i don't think we'll ever know. the curse the coven set upon you has been lifted by him." you look down — the raised welt where your scar once was has dissipated. widening your eyes, you peel the shoulder of your shirt down, the formerly scarred skin now smooth. your fingers tremble as you run them over your soft flesh, feeling the sting of tears forming. you can feel the burn of a sob in your throat as chan releases your hand, stepping back as you process.

the burning of his gaze, of his skin on yours, of your chest in his presence. the ache you felt in your soul yesterday as his lips brushed your neck with every roll of his hips, the way his answers confused you. the anger you felt while walking to class, at not being able to decipher him.

the way his angel eyes held the sun, the moon, and the stars. the way worry creases his brow though relief has washed over his frame, the way you're itching to hold him close, and never, ever let go.

it all makes sense.

"we'll give you both a moment." the master sorcerers bow their heads as they back out of the room, dr. min closing the door behind him. you sit in silence, feeling sticky and gross and overwhelmed.

"you're in love with me?!" you shriek, and chan throws up his hands in defense. "i thought we already knew this, why are we screaming?!" you swat his arm, and a nervous laugh bubbles up his throat. flopping back down onto the gurney, you dramatically cover your eyes with your arm, sighing. "now i have to cherish this, and we're probably going to get married and have kids and all that shit. are you serious? are you serious." "y/n…" you stand up, pacing back and forth in front of him, your hands weaving through your hair to soothe the onsetting migraine at the information. "how are you not freaking out, chan? you just found out you're one of the rarest healers in the trifecta, and not to mention the first in over three centuries! are you shitting me right now?" "y/n?"

you're not listening as you continue to ramble, pacing a hole into the floor when he grabs your shoulder, pulling you to him. taking both your hands in his, he looks you in the eyes. "you're spiraling." 

huffing, you nibble on your lower lip. "what happens now, chan?"

his smile is warm, it's comforting, it's making your stomach flip as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. "i don't know. isn't that the beauty of it all, though? not knowing where you end up?"

pouting, you rest your head on his shoulder, allowing his warmth to seep into your skin. "i've never felt this, chan. i don't know what it's like to be lost, i've always had my answers." you can feel the vibrations of his chest as he laughs, his hand coming to stroke your hair gently.

"that's okay, it'll be like the blind leading the blind. for now, we can just focus on…us? maybe go on a date, have dinner…" his voice is soft as you look up to him, his eyes already scanning your face for any hint of rejection. "unless you don't want to." you do, of course you do.

"i'm all sweaty, and gross. we've had a revelation about your purpose in this world, your eyes are a different color, and you want to focus on us?" your voice is laced with incredulity, a hint of amusement peeking through as it tugs at your lips. "i have my whole life to focus on other things. when you can't find a piece of a puzzle, you pick another part to focus on, do you not? i have that answer, that piece now, but i'm already figuring this part out." squeezing your shoulder, he places a chaste kiss on your hairline, your nose scrunching.

"why did you come with me?" you poke his chest, and he smirks. "yesterday or today?"

gaping, you land a soft smack to his chest, his squeaky laughter filling your ears as your cheeks heat. "chan! not funny!" "sorry, i'm sorry! i saw an opportunity, i took it. but, i was worried about you." he starts, taking a piece of your hair between his fingers. "i saw how angry you looked before minnie spoke to you, and before you looked at me. you started looking faint when we met eyes, and i was…i was scared that something might happen to you and that i wouldn't be able to apologize for potentially overstepping boundaries, or ruining whatever little game we have going on."

"you couldn't ruin whatever this is even if you tried." you scoff, your words tumbling out before you can process them. "i've never felt anything this intense before in my entire life. my ears started ringing when i touched your chest on tuesday, here." you splay your fingers on his hoodie, in the same place.

"i couldn't hear a thing. that was me, the blockage, i was basically hearing myself. if we didn't have that moment, if you hadn't let me in, none of this would have happened." you speak softly, taking his hands in yours, his eyes glassy as he looks into yours. your smile is gentle, and he can feel his stomach flutter as you lean closer. "and i'm so glad it did. despite this whole day being so weird, despite the coven probably burning holes into the back of my head right now from hell right now, and despite the tears i can see about to spill out of your eyes, nothing could ruin this. okay?" he looks away, nibbling on his lip. your thumb strokes his cheek, catching a few stray tears as you make him face you. vision blurring, but you can see him clearer than ever.

"okay?" you insist, and he nods. "okay."

"good." pulling him towards you, you crash your lips to his, feeling your heart beating in your ears. your arms cross over his shoulders, his hands finding home on your bare waist, the kiss becoming heated. parting his lips, your tongue snakes its way in, a soft groan from chan as he pushes you back, your knees hitting the gurney. 

"not in here, guys." dr. kang's voice echoes in the room, and you spring apart like teenagers. wiping at your lips, you watch as chan grabs your discarded jacket, and his bag. outstretching his hand to you, you take it, letting him rush the both of you towards the door. quickly bowing to the master sorcerers, you giggle as the cool december air hits your chest.

"yeah, y/n! nice titties, girl!" you hear a holler from down the hall, your eyes catching a glimpse of minnie's teal hair. you smile widely, waving as chan continues, a blush coating his cheeks as you begin to float behind him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"where are we going?" you mumble in his ear, and he shivers. "to yours. i need to show you how much you mean to me." you let the butterflies bounce around in your stomach, knowing exactly what was coming your way.

friday – january 08.

your relationship with chan had become the talk of the wizard world. several words were thrown your way, many to your detriment – but you chose to focus on 'love epiphany' and 'anomalies made to traverse together.'

he naturally passed your class with flying colors, what more could you do when he literally discovered himself? the students deemed it completely fair, with only yugyeom choosing to retake your course because he felt like he didn't really do what was necessary. mornings were filled with the buzzing of your phone – the students had made a group chat and continuously badgered you with memes, and mingyu with his graduation photos.

whereas, chan's mornings were filled with you, his phone long put on silent. your soft hair tickling his neck, only for your gentle lips to place chaste kisses along his jaw as he awoke. your warm leg draped over his waist, your knee teasing his crotch so early was something he'd never get used to. your arm, propping you up once he lazily peels an eye open, closing it the moment he sees your beaming smile, a blush coating his cheeks.

"do you always stare at me when i sleep?" he mumbles, his fingers dipping under the hem of your sleep shorts. "do birds fly?" "you're a creep, you know that?" laughing, he lets you hold his eyes open with your fingers, the indigo glow of them making you glow brighter in turn. that was what it meant, after all – the subzero color now warm, as you illuminated the room with your love for chan. "yeah? well you're creeping your fingers into my panties, so maybe shut up."

your lips are addicting, he could never get enough of them as you brush them against him. both sets, of course.

kidding. sort of. not at all. he loves you, okay? that's all that matters.

"you should check your email, channie." you murmur against his neck, and he nods his head, watching as you try not to smile. "oh i should, should i?" ignoring the raise of his eyebrow, you reach for chan's phone, plopping it on his bare chest. chan lolls his head back, hands relocating to your hips as he pulls you on top of him. your cheeks heat at the soft love bites on his pec, but shake it away as his voice snakes into your head

"you seem a little too excited, baby." he ruffles your hair as he unlocks his phone, and you just bite your lip as he scans the screen. "tell me, sorcerer, what's the news?" your voice bounces off the walls, with chan just squeezing your hip in response.

from: spellboundnews@spellbound.edu

dearest bang chan,

it is our honor here at the spellbound institute of magic to let you know that you have been chosen to be published in this year's edition of the spellbound sorcerer. such an honor is only awarded to those with extraordinary skill. 

we've also made the unanimous decision for you to speak at this year's annual convention, taking over the healing trifecta's booth. more information will be provided as the date approaches.

we look forward to seeing you and professor y/l/n there.

signed,

dr. kang seulgi

dr. min yoongi

master sorcerers

spellbound institute of magic

his eyes flicker to yours, your grin so wide, it's infectious. "i'm getting published." "you're getting published!" you cheer loudly, and chan feels his cheeks heat as you pepper his face in kisses. "you're getting published, baby! we have to celebrate! let's ask your parents to dinner, yeah? we can get a cabin for the weekend, so they don't have to drive home so late."

he forgets how you pried the truth about his parents out of him, but he's almost sure it was last tuesday when you made him beg for you to sit on his face. almost sure, but he doesn't really care anymore. after all, he'd warmed up to you.

"i'm so proud of you, channie." your voice is gentle as you swipe your thumbs under his eyes, and he nods, burying his face in your chest as embarrassment spreads in his. "hey, you can't hide from me. what happened to the praise kink? don't you want to know how good you're doing?" "i told you that in confidence!" he swats at your leg as he nestles into your laughter. "i know! it's just me and you here, what's the problem?! let me praise you!"

"never. come on, let's read my stupid essay." he throws the comforter off his legs, and you huff as you climb off his lap. sitting up on the edge of the bed, you lean against his back, your arms hooked around his broad shoulders. the same ones full of your nail marks, a few imprints of your teeth scattered around them. "i graded it, i already read it." "well, praise me while i read it." he snorts, and you press a soft kiss to his shoulder. "mm, okay. i'll take what i can get."

bang chan

professor y/l/n

identity theory

if you're nothing without this suit, then you shouldn't have it. – tony stark, spider-man: homecoming (2017)

the fall was slow, like liebesträume.

feeling lost is an understatement.

i've been lost before – in grocery stores, misunderstanding assignments. i've even been lost in the woods before, riddled with anxiety standing within the trees. so uniform, full of belonging. those trees know where their purpose lies.

me? i've been wandering this world not knowing where my purpose lies, what i'm meant to be doing with said unrealized purpose. this is a feeling of disorientation, isolation, off course. it's all the same anyway, isn't it?

i spent years looking for answers – from the day i was dropped off at the academy to the day i met professor y/l/n. life was well sullied with fear, a feeling of desperation as i felt my time running low. i willingly put myself in danger, hopping from dimension to dimension with the aid of some friends to find something to ease my worries, and came up empty. answers will find you, not you them.

another thing i failed to consider was that i perhaps had my answer all along. from the natural instinct to protect and take care of the people i hold close, to the agony of being away from my family – all i needed was a catalyst. something to throw me even more off course, even more confusing than what life had come to be before her.

professor y/l/n has brought me to life. truly, i could never say enough to express the appreciation i have for her, but i will attempt it any chance i get. an enigma, an anomaly, a paradigm – she is far, far more than these words could begin to define. she's selfless, she's full of light and i could never understand that. my admiration for her goes well beyond this lifetime, and like the praying mantis, she was a beacon of guidance.

her story is full of twists and turns as she allowed me to indulge. from the flickering of the glow around her, to understanding that only the deepest of her indigo hue glows for me, i'm honored to say the least. i will never get enough of her story, of her truths, of her. the idea that love lies in the hands of the beholder is entirely true in this case. to be loved is to be known, and she read me far beyond my wildest dreams the moment her golden cast laid upon me. 

eckhart tolle says that, to love is to recognize yourself in another. i have never experienced something as deep as this, nor have i ever seen myself in y/n – and i'm glad i don't. my insecurities, my flaws, what i dislike about myself, are my own. however, i know she sees something i don't, and i trust that. i trust her, with my entire being. without her, i'd have no clue of my purpose. to younger me, who is still wondering the answer to that, i propose this.

your purpose is to love. love beyond your ways, love selflessly. love selfishly, like it's all you can do. like it's all you're capable of, because the moment you lay eyes on y/n? you will see, it is. loving her is all you can do. life without love is meaningless, life without her is hopeless.

temptaetions © 2024. no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

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[brucewaynehater101]

Okay, you know that hc where Tim Reincarnates as The Trash of the Bat Family? It got me thinking of him scamming and making the "Real League of Assassins". He integrates Pru, Z and Owens early, makes them his people (or assassins disguised as servants).

"Where's the coffee?"

Owens, pouring chamomile tea, "We're all out of coffee, Sir."

"Energy drinks?"

Pru, throwing a trash bag away. "All gone too, Sir."

He integrates Kon before he experiences the SA with Tana Moon and other ladies, and Kon becomes his bodyguard.

"Are we doing something bad?"

"Oh, we're doing something veeeeery bad. To Lex Luthor."

Tim rescuing Damian.

"You're Damian Al Ghul Wayne. You're an Al Ghul and a Wayne. You can do whatever you want. I'm not taking care of you."

Damian, not trusting this lying bastard, secretly follows him around. Tim knows Damian is, and begrudgingly just accepts Damian into his fold until he reaches Gotham again.

"If you die, Timothy, I will dominate the world, kill everyone, and then myself."

I love these additions so much!!!

The "Real League of Assassins" is such a petty name, and I live for it. Just Tim as a kid and his little League of Assassins (depending on how far back he went into the past and how soon he aquires the OG best assassin squad). It would be double hilarious if his "Real League of Assassins" doesn't actually kill anyone, but I also respect Tim's right to commit murder however he deems fit. I like to imagine how mad Ra's would get at the name.

Part of Tim's asshole cover comes from Pru. There's two ways this can go. One, Pru is her complete self in front of everyone (she will break someone's nose no matter their price tag). This causes major scandals and issues for Tim cause how could he hire someone who behaves like that? Or Two, Pru is creepily pleasant and respectful around other company, and Tim continues to act like usual around her. This causes people to pity Pru for having such a horrible boss.

I also live for Bodyguard Kon AUs. You know the two of them are playing a "I know your sickly Victorian child looking ass can beat me up, but I will pretend I don't know this until you tell me why" with a "please stop saving me from every small things because I know you know a sunburn isn't going to kill me." It's dealer's choice on how soon Kon finds out about Tim's vigilante gig. Also, if Kon is a bodyguard in this, is he also Superboy or the equivalent? Does he become a superhero once he finds out about Tim's heroism? There's no way Kon would stick around Tim if he believed the persona Tim kept up.

Cue Tim accidentally forming the YJ again, but this time it's hidden from the JL radars and is a closely guarded secret.

As far as Damian, I absolutely love that quote you included. It's so Damian coded and I live for him threatening to take over the world. I also want to see Tim's reaction and how concerned he is over Damian threatening to kill himself. As an older brother, he legit could care less about Damian managing to kill the entire world. It's Damian wanting to die that scares him.

As far as the AU, Tim is trying so hard to distance himself from the Waynes that his dumbass shouldn't have picked up Damian in person. He was probably too anxious to leave it to someone else, but now he has a tiny suspicious assassin who reluctantly became fond of him.

There's a few different ways this can play out.

One, Tim picks up Damian in his vigilante costume and never unmasks to Damian. The little tot starts to think of this vigilante as maybe a brother before being given to Bruce (angst of abandonment tied with identity shenanigans. How soon does Damian realize that Timothy "Trash" Drake is the one to save him from the League?).

Two, Tim starts off with his secret identity in tact but reveals himself while traveling back. They bond, Damian is left at Bruce's, and, to the surprise of literally all the Waynes, the kid is seen constantly talking to the complete jerk Timothy Drake. Damian is actually nicer to this douchebag stranger than he is to some of his family members. What's equally shocking is how kind Tim is to Damian. Tim hasn't been cruel to children before, but he hasn't gone out of his way to be nice either. This cues investigations into Tim by the batfam.

Three, Damian refuses to go live with his dad and sticks around Tim when they return to Gotham. Depending on when Tim rescues Damian, Tim's fake uncle adopts Damian, and they become brothers legally. When Bruce finds out Damian is his son, he doesn't take the excuse, "I found him on the streets!" from Tim seriously.

[ohhiimweird]

The Traffic Light Trio Except they Simp for You

AKA MK, Mei, and Redson crush headcanons

Characters: MK, Redson, Mei

Reader: Gender Neutral

Relationship: Romantic

Content Warnings: None! :)

------------------------------------

MK

bro is a simp. he would be a simp. look at this boy and tell me he is not

Mei is his wingman, obviously. and she does her best

AKA, she has brought up the idea of throwing rocks at your window, MK serenading you while Mei carries the boombox

Whenever you enter Pigsy's shop, MK will be all "Guys! Guys! Be cool! It's them." and he's the only one losing his shit

the gang is surprised that you're the only one who doesn't know about MK's crush on you

he'll sometimes draw you and write your name with a bunch of hearts around it or himself protecting you from a demon

he gushes about you almost constantly. it can be about any interaction he had with you. he will talk to the nearest person about it

Wukong supports it but he's mostly confused but that's fine

father figure approves

will try to show off his powers in front of you

if he ends up admitting his feelings, he's got a flower that reminds him of you and y'all are meeting somewhere so he can do the thing. Mei is probably watching in case everything goes wrong

when you accept, he's so fucking happy and it takes everything in him not to kiss you the second you say yes

Mei

much like how she'd be MK's wingman, MK is her wingman

She'll show you off to her chat if she's streaming. they'll make a few simp comments about her crush but she acts cool and brushes it off

on the inside, she is worried you might find out and is surprised that you don't

she'll take you for rides on her little dragon bike around the city

you have to go to work? there she is! need a ride to the grocery store? mei knows your location

NOOO it's not because she likes the feeling of your arms wrapped around her while she's driving you around

she's a little bit more upfront about her feelings, but she still has her and MK go through stupid shenanigans to get your attention

she's a little worried about her parents not being approving of you because dragon clan stuff

but I think because of the episode with the dragon sword, her parents would come around

when she wants to tell you, Mei would try to disguise it as you two hanging out as friends

MK and Sandy are following you two around while you're both having fun

Then, Mei takes you somewhere a little more remote and admits her feelings. When you say yes, she throws herself onto you and is the happiest Dragon Horse Girl in the world

Redson

this motherfucker is a tsundere through and through

This time, they have two wingmen, MK and Mei. but she doesn't like it

he'll try to shoo them away every time they make a comment about him making a move on you

Redson will bring you the finest jewelry in the world if you wear it

if you don't he'll make little trinkets for you

either way, he's giving you gifts since I see that as his love language

each gift redson gives you has a seal on it, showing anyone that tries anything with you that you're under the demon bull family's protection

If you notice something, cue the flames

she will deny everything that has to do with their crush on you

Once he confesses, that's when he'll ask MK and Mei for any kind of help, and they're on thin fucking ice already

She brings you another piece of jewelry, however, this one is a bit grander than the others. He treats it like a marriage proposal even though they're reminded several times that you have to date someone first before you marry them

You accept it though, and that's all that matters to him

[strangersteddierthings]

The Response

Part Two of The Interview [Part One] [Ao3]

With no exact time given by Robin, Eddie's left to kill time. He drags himself from the YouTube spiral to try and track down Steve on social media. After two hours, he concludes that either Steve has his (and official Corroded Coffin's) socials blocked, or Steve just doesn't have any. He's a bit baffled that people can even find Steve to send hate mail to him.

He shoots a text to Gareth. Can you find Steve on any socials?

He gets an instant reply.

DO NOT CONTACT!!!

WAIT FOR RESPONSE

DONOT MAKE THISS WORSE MUNSON

Eddie frowns down at his phone but doesn't argue. He probably would make it worse. He sends back 'k' and looks back to the laptop. Watches it auto-refresh but Robin's feed hasn't changed.

God, what will Steve have to say?

It's mostly true, that Eddie hasn't thought about Steve in years. That's been deliberate. Eddie was so furious back then. Robin wasn't wrong about him venting his feelings into a song, but how was he supposed to know Hey Steve would be the song the catch the ear of the people? And yeah, the lyrics are very unflattering.

A lot of their first songs were filled with rage. The whole first album is just their collective high school experiences. Songs about growing up in Hawkins and how shit that was for them, a song about Eddie's complicated feelings towards his dad, songs about dungeons and dragons disguised as fantasy ballads, things like that. And, of course, Hey Steve.

He can admit that years ago he reevaluated the lyrics and found it to be more harsh than was warranted. But he figured there was no point worrying about that. People exaggerate in songs all the time. The song is out, people still plead for it to be played during encore performances. Eddie hadn't thought it was hurting anyone to play it.

Hey Steve had taken Eddie less than two days to write. He did almost nothing for those two days except write. Fuck. He was still just a dumb kid when he wrote it, barely graduated high school. And the reason for writing it...

Eddie had know Steve wasn't out to his parents when he'd asked Steve to essentially runaway with him. Steve had worried about things like money, and living situations, and getting food. It had all sounded like excuses to Eddie back then. Like Steve was picking the safety of Hawkins and his parents' house over going out into the world to be with Eddie freely.

They'd fought about it. The worst fight they'd ever had. Yet, here Eddie is, a decade later and unable to recall anything that was actually said. Just a summary of that conversation exists in his mind, now. Steve wanting to wait. To save more money now that his hours at the grocery store would be changing from part time to full with him no longer being in school and able to work the morning shifts. Wait to get his car fully transferred to his name from his parents.

All things that adult Eddie can now see as reasonable. Jesus Fucking Christ. He remembers he'd given Steve some sort of ultimatum. He was leaving on the last Grey Hound from Hawkins to Indy. Steve could meet him at the bus stop or stay, but Eddie was going, with or without him.

Steve had shouted back. He knows they just got louder and nastier until Steve finally told him that he would be going without him, then, because they were over. Even as angry as Eddie had been, he'd held out hope. But that last bus left Hawkins with Eddie on it and no sign of Steve in sight.

So Eddie did what he did best. Channeled that hurt into anger and wrote a song. Never in a million years did he think that, in the very first bar they played at in Indy, they'd meet a man who wanted to take a chance with them and get them a demo. All they needed to do was get from Indy to LA. Eddie had a van and the motivation. The next year of his life was too busy for him to even think, much less worry about Steve and his breakup.

Well, that was a lie. He thought about it constantly and shoved the thoughts aside as quickly as they came. Easier to do when he had no way to check up on Steve. He left Hawkins with no laptop and a pay-per-text flip phone he'd bought at a gas station. Wayne tried his best to provide for Eddie, and that meant they'd had one cell phone between the two, and Eddie had insisted that Wayne keep it.

By the time he got a laptop and internet, Steve had blocked him on Facebook and Twitter. That was the conclusion Eddie had come to when he finally worked up the nerve to swallow his pride and apologize and couldn't find Steve on either platform. Another thing that had filled Eddie with anger and hurt. Steve had broken up with him and then made sure Eddie couldn't reach back out.

Now he wonders, did Steve block him, or did Steve delete his socials to stop the hate mail?

Eddie feels nauseous.

Fuck!

What's worse is that, before the fight, Eddie had been so sure he was in love with Steve. But how can he say that with how quickly he dropped him? With how he's acted ever since? He could justify it to himself when he was still freshly broken up with and hurting but that faded away as fame took over.

Hard to be sad about not having a boyfriend when there were plenty of people lining up to be with him.

He pulls himself from his head to look at the laptop. A new tweet shows on Robin's screen and he scrambled to turn off the auto-refresher.

It's a short tweet, and Eddie sees she's changed her name as well.

Clicking the link takes him to a YouTube video.

It starts with the camera slightly jiggling, presumably from someone hitting record. It's been set up in a recording studio. A stool in front of a mic that's suspended from the ceiling is the only thing in the frame.

"Alright, dingus, last chance to change your mind about this," Robin's voice is picked up from off screen.

"You can't talk me out of this," says a male voice, and without any thought about it, Eddie's hand flings out and slaps the space bar, pausing the video. His heart is pounding, and he has to take a few deep breaths. That was Steve's voice. Of course, it was Steve's voice, it's his statement video, but hearing it again. Hearing it spoken softly but determined.

Swallowing feels difficult. Eddie's last memory of Steve's voice was screaming. This is... this is the Steve he never thought he'd hear again, and hasn't realized how much he desperately wanted to. With shaking hands, he presses play again.

Steve steps into frame, takes a seat on the stool. He looks in the direction of the camera, and Eddie has to pause again, to take him in. His hair is longer than it was in high school, the ends of it touching his shoulders. He's got it pulled up in a half updo, keeping the hair out of his face. His face is familiar and yet so different. He certainly looks older but not in a bad way. The biggest difference is his nose; it's not as straight as it once was, like it's been broken and healed wrong. His strong, square face is as handsome as it ever was, perhaps more so now. Eddie's eyes are drawn to the two moles on his cheek; his eyes have always been drawn there. It was his favorite place to kiss Steve.

He's wearing light wash jeans and a deep blue Henley. And fuck if it doesn't make him look good.

Eddie unpauses again, and waits to hear the retribution he deserves.

"This good, Robin?"

"Yeah, you're perfectly in frame."

"Good. Uhh, hi. I'm Steve. Robin told me that there was a lot of fuss regarding a certain Corroded Coffin song, and that people wanted to hear from me. Which is wild 'cause like, I'm just some guy and I don't really have much to say-" Steve is saying, with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Steve!" Robin interrupts him, "I just had to help you move because someone threw a brick through your window! What do-"

"Okay! I get it! But that's not Corroded Coffin's fault. They do that whole anti-bullying thing! It's not like they don't address harassment and bullying. I-" Steve cuts off, seeming to remember he's on camera. His face turns pink. "We can argue this later. Uhh, anyway. There is something I want to say to Eddie Munson, so I hope he's watching."

He makes a 'give it to me' gesture and Robin enters frame, handing him an acoustic guitar. "I thought I'd answer using the one thing Eddie understands best. Music. So, uh, I wrote this song with Robin's help. Lyrics are mine but the melody is Robin. The song doesn't have a title but, uh, okay. Here it goes."

And then, Steve starts to sing, looking down at the guitar for correct finger placement more than singing into the mic but it picks him up well regardless.

"Do you think I'd give up? That this might've shook the love from me? Or that I was on the brink? How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily? Now that it's done There's not one thing that I would change My life was a storm, since I was born. How could I fear any hurricane? If someone asked me at the end I'll tell them put me back in it-" Eddie is sitting down, and still he feels the floor fall out from under him.

"-Darling, I would do it again, ah, ah If I could hold you for a minute Darling, I'd go through it again, ah, ah."

Eddie doesn't hear the rest of the song because of the blood pounding in his ears. This can't be- it doesn't mean- after all this time? After everything that's happened, everything Eddie let happen, unintentionally or not.

His phone buzzes against his leg. He ignores it in favor of restarting the video and listening to the video from the start. He listens to the whole song and it ends without anything else. Once Steve's strummed the last chord, he just stands up, walks to the camera and the video ends.

He restarts the video again, and again, and again. Hears Steve sing How could you think I'd scare so easily and I would do it again if I could hold you for a minute and though I know my heart would break I'd tell them put me back in it.

It's through the tenth, or eleventh, playback that his phone buzzes again and he fumbles to answer blindly, unable to pull his eyes away from Steve on the screen of his laptop.

"Gare- It's not- what did I do Gare? Everything I thought Steve would have to say never came close to what he just sang. I can't- I don't know what to do," Eddie sobs into the phone.

There's a pause of silence before what is very much not Gareth's voice says, "Well, dammit Munson. I was calling to rip you a new one but you're already crying."

It takes Eddie a moment to place the voice, "Robin?"

"Unfortunately, yes," Robin says. "I think Steve's let you off easily, but I also know I kick a hornet's nest with my interview so I think we should work on getting this cleared up, both publicly and privately."

"How did you get my num-"

"Gareth. Keep up, Munson. I'd like us to be able to call off each other's fans. Your PR team and whoever you employee to do that anti-bullying campaign have done a pretty good job so far in telling people to back off, politely. Helps that Jeff has been on top of this from the beginning. Honestly, I think the best decision you've ever made in your life was making Jeff the front man of your band and not yourself. He's much more pleasant to talk to, and so good with people."

"Robin!" Eddie has to shout because Robin keeps saying words and they don't make sense. "What?"

He hears a sign from the other end of the phone. "You are annoying. You know that, Munson? I'll work with Gareth to get this done. I think we should be seen together, publicly. Maybe getting a coffee. So everyone knows we've made up, or whatever it is Gareth and I decide is happening. We should also meet up privately. There's a lot to talk about."

"I'm so confused."

"Nothing new. Now, when are you free to get on a plane to Pendleton, Oregon?"

"Pendleton?"

"Munson!" Robin snaps, "we just established that you live in a perpetual state of confusion. Instead of questioning me, how about you answer my questions. Now, when are you free?"

"Anytime."

"Smart answer. Get your ass to Pendleton by the morning of the twenty-third. I'll work with Gareth for all the other concerns. He's easier to deal with."

"Can I ask one follow up question at least!?"

"You just did but I'll allow one more before I hang up."

"Why Pendleton?"

"It's the nearest airport to our destination. I am not having a private conversation with you in California. I don't want to be caught speaking to you until Gareth and I have a chance to work out the details."

And then Robin hangs up.

Eddie leans forward and restarts the video on his laptop before looking up plane tickets. Fixing things with Robin might be the first step in ever getting try and, he doesn't know, apologize to Steve? Maybe even have a conversation one day.

He doesn't deserve that chance, he thinks, but he's a bad enough person to want it anyway.

[moonlightdreamzz]

nasty — vernon

he was always so sweet. so gentle. but tonight, you wanted to try something different.

→ warning! 18+. pure nasty smut. use of the word daddy, light cheek slap, begging, and more.

→ author’s note: writing this did things to me. feel free to listen to nasty, by ariana grande while reading. hehe.

you were trying so hard to focus on the television in front of you. what show was currently playing? you had no idea. you just needed an excuse to drown out the current fantasies running through your head.

you hated when it snuck up on you like this - that familiar tingling in your panties. when you felt it, any subtle movement on whatever your cheeks sat on made you want to whimper, which would then lead to you pulling your phone out and finding the very necessary video for whatever your body was craving at the time.

of course, this was your routine before meeting vernon.

now, you didn’t have to rely on your fingers, or your toys to feel the release your body was screaming for so bad. when your panties started to pool, you would call vernon. better yet, a lot of the times he was already with you, and all it took was a simple lick to his earlobe for him to know exactly what you needed.

it was bliss. he is bliss.

you loved every second of him whether you were cuddling and watching a movie, or his fingers were inside of your panties massage your clit while the two of you made familiars with your tounges. it was the sweetest love you had ever made everytime. truthfully, it’s the only love you’ve ever made.

with everyone else, there was a lack of intimacy. there was a lack of love. to be made love to so carefully, like you were the most precious thing in the world was something you only got with your boyfriend, and you were so grateful.

but, you can’t lie. while you did enjoy being treated so carefully, there were times, like tonight, where you wanted him to walk right through that door and take all his stress out on you. you didn’t want him to ask was this or that okay. you wanted him to tell you where he wanted you. how he wanted you. you wanted to feel his handprint on your ass cheek.

tonight, you wanted to get nasty.

in the midst of your thoughts, you hear the passcode being put into your door, and you feel that familiar tingle in your armpit that you get whenever he comes around.

he walks in swiftly, obviously trying to avoid being seen in the hallways of your apartment building. you can see his smile even through his disguise that he begins to rip off one by one.

is it bad that him throwing his mask and jacket on the floor was making you even wetter? you didn’t want him to stop removing layers.

you get off the couch swiftly, practically skipping towards him. this was always the best part. vernon doesn’t hesitate to open his arms out for you to jump in, holding your waist tight as he inhales your scent. he bends over so both of your bodies are closer to the ground as he always does, but you can’t see the innocence in it today.

i wish he was inside of me in this position right now.

stop brain - you think to yourself. stop right now.

it doesn’t take long for him to pull the two of you back up and remove his face from your shoulder to look you in the eye.

“hi beautiful.” he says in his sultry voice. damn, he was so fine. effortlessly at that. his brown eyes are looking into yours, and he’s telling you how much he missed you without even saying anything.

you quickly pucker your lips to give him a long overdue kiss. he does the same, and now your mouths are connecting in such a pure delight. this is the first innocent thought you’ve had all day towards him. you just loved him so much. the kiss continues to be sweet and gentle as he puts you down.

“i missed you, baby.” you whisper, pulling away from his lips but resting your forehead on his.

“i missed you too.” he echoes right back. you know he meant it because he didn’t even hesitate.

“how much?”

“real bad.” vernon damn near whimpers when he says those words, and you know he’s on the same page as you. that was another thing you loved about him; he always wanted you. no matter the time or place, he would find a way to be inside you if that’s what you wanted.

“yeah?” you pur, nodding your head against his as you place your hands on his face and back up, allowing him to follow you down the hallway that led to your bedroom.

“hell yeah.”

it’s at this point that Vernon begins his usual routine - slowly rubbing his hands all over your body as your lips reconnect. he does it so perfectly, massaging every inch of your body, especially your ass with such precision. his kisses were filled with love even with their sexual intent. you could feel everything he felt for you and the two of you had barely started.

“throw me on the fucking bed, daddy.” you say with your chest, adding a whimper on the end of it as you know it’s your boyfriends weakness. you were already dripping wet. if only he would let you rip his clothes off his body would he be able to feel it damn near dripping on his leg.

vernon stops in his tracks. he’s still holding you, but time has stopped. you know his mind is running a million miles per minute trying to process everything that just came out of your mouth.

“wait baby, what? i’m sorry - I just-“

“am not used to hearing me talk like that?”

“yeah.” he breathes, his voice shaking along with his hands that still lay on your bum.

“do you like it? when I call you daddy?”

“i…i do.” he places your hand on his growing boner so you know he’s not lying. you loved the way it felt in your hands. it was always so warm, so firm. you need it in your mouth as soon as possible.

“then throw me on the bed, daddy. please.”

you never have to ask him twice.

he throws you on the memory foam mattress that’s covered by your cotton sheets. the cool breeze that rises from the pressure of your body is euphoric, but the best part hasn’t even almost came.

vernon is snatching your clothes off, something you had never seen him do before. he always gently took everything off as if you were made out of glass. he clearly understood the assignment. you follow the same sentiment, loving the feeling of his lips licking all over your neck and chest leaving you wanting more and more and more.

you pull him to you now, flipping the two of you so that you’re on top of him. he had removed everything except your bra and panties. he loved to make you wait to be revealed. you throw his shirt off his head as you kiss him again, your tongues fighting for dominance in the others mouth. you also begin to grind against his now fully hard boner. you wish you could cum off of this alone.

it feels so fucking good - the feeling of your clit rubbing on his dick. he knows it too.

“you like that don’t you, baby?” he grunts into your ear as he matches the pace of your grinding.

“i fucking love it, daddy. i fucking love it.” fuck, you love calling him that. and you knew it was stroking his ego as well with the way his grinding was becoming more aggressive.

“don’t stop fucking calling me that Y/N.”

the two of you keep molding into each other with your lips and clothed genitals. his whimpers into your lips. the feeling of his large and long dick writing poetry on your clit feels so good. this closeness - it was a feeling only vernon could give you.

“i never will - ah!” so quickly was that familiar pressure building inside of you. it was going to be quick pleasure, but this was just the beginning. “mm fuck baby!” one grind. “fuck daddy keep the pace just like that!” two grinds. it’s the last one that causes the explosion in your brain, clit, and stomach. “mmm fucking yes.” you moan out. the orgasm has your legs shaking as you collapse on top of him.

this is usually where you two take a swift break, letting you breathe for a second and get yourself together, and letting Vernon protect himself from getting off too quickly, but not tonight. before you can catch another breath, vernon is picking you up, dropping you to the floor at the edge of the bed. it may have sounded odd, but you could smell how bad he wanted you. this - him pushing his boner into your face, silently demanding you make him feel as good as he just made you feel - is what you had been craving. maybe because he was never so rough with you was the reason you could faint from how horny you are in this moment, or maybe you're just too obsessed with your man.

you yank his boxers off, and his length springs out, hitting you on the nose. you're a feen for his entire body, but especially his pretty, pink dick. it was as if it was perfectly sculpted for you the way it fit everywhere so perfectly - your mouth, your pretty girl down south, your hands.

you're about to get to work before vernon yanks your chin up, forcing you to look right into his chocolate eyes.

"you better swallow every drop. like its the last time you'll ever taste it." he says, eyes low. he gently slaps your cheek, leaning back in preparation.

why was he so good at this? you never knew he had any of this in him. he was always so sweet, so protective over you. it didn't matter. you were going to soak every bit of this in. you had never been as turned on as you are in this moment.

"yes daddy."

you go to work immediately - wetting his length entirely with your mouth before doing his favorite - focusing on his tip as you jerk the base with your hands.

"oh my-" he moans loudly. nothing can be heard in your home except the sounds of his deep breaths and you slurping on his dick.

he tastes so delightful, so clean. so many of your friends saw giving head as a chore, but not you. not with him. it was like sucking on your favorite flavor lollipop - you would do it all day if you could.

the slurping continues, and his moans get loader. you can quite literally feel his dick pulsating in your mouth, and you know he's getting closer and closer.

"wait." he speaks, pushing you away.

saliva drips from you mouth, and you look up at him with doe eyes. you're not confused. vernon had never done this before, but in general you knew when a guy stops your amazing head, it was because he didn't want to cum before he got to the best part.

"what happened to swallowing it all?" you tease, removing your bra and standing up. you push vernon back on the bed, removing your panties before climbing on top of him

he shivers the second he feels how wet you are. he was so damn obsessed with you. why were you so sexy? from your beautiful face, to your soft, sweet skin. you always smelled like the sweetest shea butter, and you tasted like it to. not where he was about to fuck you though. you see, down there, you tasted like a woman. just like you could smell him, he could smell how bad she needed him too.

you're on top of him, grinding once more, and has to sit and appreciate it for second. he loved being your personal play toy. his ego had never been bigger since the first time the two of you made love. he knew he was the only person who could make you feel so damn good. he gives your ass a slap before lifting you up and grabbing his length to put inside you. you are so fucking wet that he can feel it running down his leg.

"i love you. i love this. i love us." he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead as he slowly enters himself into you. he can't help but moan as he welcomes himself back home. its warm, gripping him tightly, and soaking wet. the perfect pussy - as he referred to it.

you know vernon. you know your pussy. you know those two together could try to last as long as they wanted, but it was only going to be a matter of time before one of them combusted. this is all you wanted all day. to be on top of him and make him feel good. to bless his day like only you could.

after a few slow strokes to adjust to his length, the gentleness leaves again at once. he's pounding into you, hitting everything just right. now, the sound of clapping fills the room, along with you and vernon's moans. ain't no way your neighbors couldn't hear you two.

"mhm, you love this dick don't you y/n." vernon speaks cockily as he sneaks a hand around your neck. in reality he was about to pass out. this was beyond euphoria for him. his whole body was tingling at the sight of you eagerly bouncing up and down on his dick.

"it could be better." you say to his surprise.

oh? he knew you didn't mean it. the way your walls were squeezing his shaft, he knew you felt good as fuck. but if you wanted to test his gangsta like this, he had something for you.

in the blink of an eye you're turned over. the both of you have broke out into a sweat as you stare into each others eyes. he's pounding into you even harder in missionary position and your eyes roll back into your head. you know he's close because his strokes are becoming erratic. you love it here.

"how about now, huh?" he questions, tilting his head. he already knows the answer, because you can't answer. you're just sitting there taking it like his little champion. he halts his strokes, and that's when you open your eyes and he sees tears well up.

"no no no, please don't stop!" you cry. before vernon, no man ever cared to get you to the finish line. he never hesitated to make you cum in all different types of ways. your body is screaming at the stop of your rollercoaster.

"beg." he says in a serious tone.

"baby-"

"who?" he questions. "that's not what you were calling me earlier. you must want me to stop."

why was he so fucking good at this? playing right into what you wanted. it was as if he was the one who had the fantasy and you were just giving it to him at this point.

"please daddy." you begin, your eyes darkening. "fuck me. make me cum. cum in me. only you can do it. please." you whimper.

he doesn't hesitate to put his dick back into you, thrusting like he never left. "you're such a slut." he chuckles. putting his hands around your neck once more. the sound of clapping is turning the both of you on even more. more than you thought was possible in such an intense moment. just when you thought it couldn't get any better, you feel vernon's thumb begin to rub your clit just right.

fuck.

you scream out, but it doesn't last because vernon presses his lips to yours. you want to scream out you’re going to cum, but he won't let you. all you can do is cry and moan into his mouth as you feel that familiar feeling in your stomach build up. then boom.

you feel it run out of your pearl and onto his length as he's still rubbing your clit and thrusting into you. this was all he needed to combust into you shortly after. he was always so pretty when he was about to fill you up. his moans were so helpless. he loved getting lost in you. you always loved how it felt. the way his cum covered your entire insides it felt like. it takes about 10 minutes of the two of you catching your breath on top of each other, still riding the wave of reaching your climax before a word gets spoken.

"was that nasty enough for you?" vernon breathes out, finally pulling out and grabbing the water that consistently stayed beside your bed. he sits there in all his beautiful glory. he's glowing as he takes his sips and passes you the bottle.

"yes. absolutely." you chuckle, following his lead in post-sex hydration.

you go and use the restroom, while vernon fixes up the messy bed as he knows the two of you are about to be knocked out cold. you return at once, and he stares at your bare body with no shame. you were his, after all.

you jump into his arms and he places a kiss on your cheek at the same time. his scent reeks of sex, and so does yours, but its still a delightful smell that drags around the room. it was the scent of your love.

"are you okay." he questions. this was your boyfriend. your sweet, innocent, loving boyfriend. his voice is slightly fearful, and you know he's questioning whether he was too rough, or said something that may have triggered you.

"i'm perfect, baby. you don't know how bad i needed that.” you snuggle closer into him, closing your eyes. "i love you so much."

"i love you more." he smiles brightly. he just loves making you happy. he would likely never confess this to you, but he had been wanting to show you that side of him for awhile. he wanted to explore that side of him for so long, but only with you. only you could give him that confidence.

he places a kiss on your lips before the two of you doze off at the same time. he owes you a softer session when the two of you wake up tomorrow.

[foolishlovers]

FAKE DATING FIC RECS: Below you can find a list of Good Omens fics in which Crowley and Aziraphale are fake dating each other. [AUs and non-AUs included]

[Requested by @waitingtobebroken. You can request more fic recs here.]

Tell Your Plants I Love Them by JustJReally (T, 3k) Trying to get over Crowley by going on a date with someone else, Aziraphale reflected, was not a good plan. Agreeing to go on a date with Gabriel, of all people, was an even worse plan.   In which Aziraphale is rescued from a terrible date by a knight in shining sunglasses.

My Memory With You by jessikast (T, 4k) “Does anyone there look familiar? I am going to kill Adam, he’s done this on purpose!” Crowley hissed. Aziraphale frowned. “Well, Adam of course. And-“ “Nanny Ashtoreth?” came a disbelieving – and American – voice. “Is that you?” *** Adam brings his boyfriend, Warlock, home for the holiday. Adam figures out that Warlock's nanny and gardner may, in fact, be a certain demon and angel of his acquaintance. Adam has a very, very good idea. In which Aziraphale and Crowley are required to pull on some old disguises at short notice, Warlock is delighted to see his old caretakers again, and Adam's going to pay for this later but right now it's hilarious.

when you take me by the hand by summerofspock, wargoddess9 (E, 9k) Crowley's got a plan for managing his rekindled friendship with Aziraphale. It all goes to hell when he opens his big mouth. ** “I have a rather large favor to ask.”   When he is silent for too long, Aziraphale prompts, “And what is it?”   “So, my cheer captain was going to ask me out and I panicked and said I was dating someone and when they asked who it was I may or may not have implied it was…you.”

You, Soft and Only by thehoyden (E, 9k) He hadn’t expected a sudden lapful of angel. “Very sorry about this,” Aziraphale said, and kissed him.

Side Mission by KannaOphelia (T, 11k) Some time after Warlock's ninth birthday, Aziraphale and Crowley have realised they made a mistake, and tracked the real Antichrist down to Tadfield. Two years to save the world is more than enough, right? Except everyone keeps assuming they are a married couple, and it's almost too much for a hopelessly in love demon to bear. Especially when Aziraphale suggests they might as well go along with it.

be mine tonight (be mine forever) by artenon (T, 11k) Aziraphale knows he’s a solitary person. He knows Crowley may very well be his only true friend. He doesn’t mind this. He does, however, very much mind learning that his coworkers have a betting pool on whether he’ll be coming alone to the department holiday party next week. He especially minds when he learns that the reason there is a betting pool in the first place is because their intern, young Newton Pulsifer, is the only one naïve enough to believe Aziraphale might have a date. ----- In retaliation to a bet made against him, Aziraphale asks Crowley to be his date to the office holiday party. Certainly there are no flaws to be found in this plan. Certainly the secret love Aziraphale has been harboring for Crowley for the past several years won't be an issue. Certainly not.

The Arrangement by TawnyOwl95 (E, 19k) Aziraphale and Crowley are set up on a blind date as a joke by their respective housemates. They decide to get their own back and call everybody's bluff by gasp fake dating!

Talk About It by hope_in_the_dark (T, 20k) Aziraphale and Crowley have been best friends for sixteen years. Crowley's been in love with Aziraphale for almost that long. When Aziraphale tells his family that he'll be bringing his boyfriend to his step-brother's wedding, things get a bit complicated. A Fake Dating AU.

Like Best Friends Do by LittleLynn (E, 21k) As usual, Crowley had decided to open his mouth before thinking about what exactly it was that he was about to let spill forth from it. As a result of this, unsurprisingly, he was now in a spot of hot water. Boiling water. Possibly water so hot that it had gone ahead and become some kind of pyroclastic steam. At least Aziraphale could usually be relied upon to take pity on him. This was a big ask though, even by Crowley's please-let-me-keep-empty-aerosol-cans-in-your-cellar-it's-nothing-illegal-I-swear standards. This was, without a doubt, a bigger ask than the aerosol cans.

muddle through somehow by curtaincall (T, 27k) Aziraphale Fell runs a successful food blog, Celestial Comestibles, where he shares mouthwatering recipes and heartwarming stories about his happy domestic life in a cottage with his husband and son. As promotion for his upcoming cookbook, his publishers run a contest: one lucky winner will get to spend Christmas with Aziraphale and his family. What the publishers don't know is that the real Aziraphale Fell is a single city-dweller. And if he wants to keep up his happily married persona, he'll have to acquire a cottage, husband, and son before Christmas. As it happens, his friend and neighbor Anthony Crowley has his nephew staying with him for the holidays. One fake marriage proposal later, and everything seems tickety-boo--as long as Aziraphale can keep from developing inconveniently real feelings for his pretend husband…

Faking It by bisasterdi (E, 28k) In the immediate aftermath of the Nope-Let's-Notpocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale tentatively begin to move on, hoping Heaven and Hell will leave them alone in the wake of both of their failed trials. Of course, nothing could possibly be that simple. It isn't that Gabriel or Beelzebub have actually figured out how the trials were subverted…but boy, do they THINK they have it figured out. Thankfully, it won't take much to keep them in the dark. (Crowley and Aziraphale just have to spend eternity together, pretending to be in love with each other. All Crowley needs to do is make sure Aziraphale never finds out that everything he's saying and doing is true.)

dearly departed by attheborder (T, 29k) Finally, Aziraphale spoke. “You mean to say— you got us married?” “Just as a precaution, I never really thought I’d end up discorporated again, it’d been ages, you just don’t get stampedes or assassinations like you used to —” “You got us married, and you didn’t tell me?” *** Crowley gets inconveniently discorporated. And it’s not like it’s ever been easy to get a new body, but this time around, things really aren’t looking good. His new innuendo-obsessed lust-demon of a coworker honestly isn’t helping things. Meanwhile, Aziraphale has a dead body to contend with, and an occult mortician & his very normal daughter to fend off. What lengths will he go to in order to get Crowley back to Earth?

make it with you by NaroMoreau (E, 31k) PAID RESEARCH OPPORTUNITY: A romantic couples study!! ------ Aziraphale and Crowley are broke roommates who are struggling to keep up with rent and a harsh landlord. After Crowley loses his job and Aziraphale's bookshop hasn't managed to make enough profit, they'll resort to anything to save what they love, and when they come across with the idea of a paid study for couples… Because some ideas are good until they aren't.

The Small Ad by SylWritesStuff, ladydragona (E, 32k) WORK WANTED: Partner For Hire. Tall, lanky ginger of arguable gender available to be your significant other to keep pesky relatives, nosy coworkers, or well-meaning friends at bay. Able to be as annoying or as polite as you like. Causing a fight over Christmas dinner with your odd, bigoted uncle/aunt/cousin will require an extra £200 up front. £50 for the first hour, negotiable otherwise. Ciao.   It isn't the sort of advertisement Aziraphale usually paid any attention to, but desperate times do indeed call for desperate measures.

In The Shadows Of Our Past, A Flicker by WaitingToBeBroken (E, 36k)

One went to Aziraphale's bookshop to exchange secrets, buy information or simply to use as a safe haven from the powers that be.

One did not go there looking for a partner for a seemingly-innocent mission to a tropical island, stalking a perfectly normal couple. Where unfortunately they would have to pretend they were married. As if that would have stopped Crowley, anyway.

Throw in their mysterious and complicated past, danger lurking from where they are least expecting and Crowley's very naked, very tattooed body that suddenly seems to be everywhere, and you might find them in a situation they are too ineffable to escape.

Or, my entry for the Good AUmens fest for the Fake Marriage prompt, with a hearty dash of Spies subplot.

Green Things Are Flowers Too by summerofspock (E, 60k) “Oh yes,” Crowley said breezily. “This is my husband, Francis. He’s a gardener by trade. We were hoping you might have an opening. An estate such as this.” Aziraphale gaped from where he stood on the stoop, feeling his heart speed up. Husband? Francis? Gardener? He’d never agreed to any of this! ** In which Aziraphale and Crowley pretend to be married while they stay at the Dowlings as Nanny and Francis.

and now all of my garden is grown in lavender by ilikeblue (E, 70k, WIP) Popular queer romance author, A.Z. Fell, has been lying about having a husband and a happy marriage for years. Longing to escape a string of failed relationships and looking for a fresh start, Aziraphale moves into the cottage left to him by his Great Aunt Agnes. When a TV adaptation of one of his books leads to sudden popularity and throws him into the limelight, his fans (and the press) are eager to catch a glimpse of Aziraphale's own mysterious leading man. Unfortunately, he still has to cast someone for that role. Enter the handsome gardener… Under Crowley's meticulous care the cottage's neglected garden slowly comes back to life, and Aziraphale finds himself writing the most important love story he'll ever write: his own

on the same page by Chekhov (E, 117k) Aziraphale Z. Fell is a rising star of the spiritual literary genre - the next Eat Pray Love guy - and his version of Chicken Soup For the Christian Soul is flying off the shelves. It's not that he's not grateful, but it's one thing to enjoy a career in writing and another completely to be pigeonholed into a specific genre, so much so that you are almost forbidden from writing anything else. So yes, maybe he has a bit of a secret. An outlet for his less… appropriate urges. And yes, if his typical readership got word of the sort of paragraphs he could put out on a particularly inspired night, they might suffer some form of heart attack typical for their age. But all of that is well hidden, and there is absolutely no way anyone would ever find out about his Arrangement with A.J. Crowley - the most debaucherous romantic fiction author of the decade. That is… until they have to pretend to be married to each other.

The Curve of Old Bones by Jenanigans1207 (E, 201k) Aziraphale watches as Crowley’s smile grows, sharpens and turns distinctively dastardly. And even though Aziraphale knows what he’s in store for, he’s entirely unprepared for the words that slip out of Crowley’s mouth next. “Name’s Anthony Crowley, Aziraphale’s husband.” Aziraphale is eternally grateful that he wasn’t taking a sip of his tea at that exact moment for he would’ve surely choked on it. -- When Crowley claims to be Aziraphale's husband to ruin what he assumes is a date, he doesn't think anything of it. But a day later it comes back to bite him in the ass when Crowley finds out that the date in question is, in fact, his new boss, who is looking to hire Aziraphale and hoping that Crowley, his husband, will put in a good word for them. Now Crowley is caught in a tight spot: either admit to his new boss that he was lying, or convince Aziraphale, his sort-of enemy, to pretend to be his husband to save face.

[You can find more fic rec masterposts here.]

[dairy-farmer]

There was an arc, where Tim fought to destroy an Evil VR Hivemind Internet type world? And that's got me thinkin~! So brace for another longish one! If the technology is POSSIBLE?

Why not a dumbed down, safeties in place, VR world?

Some tech genius manages to create it, it actually works, takes the world by storm. Is markted as the True Do Anything Game. And obviously, it's an intelligence agency's and superheroes worst nightmare. Crooks are meeting up through the game to make deals. The creator is scrambling to keep up and put safeties in place to stop them.

Obviously, Tim has to catch them, right?

But he can't look like Tim Drake! Luckily you can customize whenever you want. And he chose an intentionally vague username. But... it's? Nice. Being anonymous. Not being stuck under layers of disguise. Playing flashy games and dancing on unrealistic dance floors.

He catches his targets, considers logging out.

But to what? Cold take out and trash TV? This is the closest to a night "out" he's had in a while. His body is even getting rested! Laying still and (mostly) relaxed on his bed. So... fuck it. He's gonna be young and hot for once. Make friends he'll never see again, come tomorrow.

And THATS when? One of his glittery new twink friends? Leans over and tells him, like it's a dirty lil secret, the BEST part of this new "game"! No consequences hook ups. No really bodies, means no disease! No real faces or names? Means go nuts! Cut loose! Destress a bit and go wild!

And... Tim DOES have a lot of stress...

So he searchs around the various party spots, for someone that looks like he can lift Tim one handed, bend him in half, then destroy him. Because you can accuse him of many things, but being interested in the safe and boring option is not one of them.

"Burns_Malone".

A transparent nod to Matches, Bruce's criminal alias. Tim would laugh at the guy if his muscles weren't glorious. Clearly a goon fan boy. But! A HOT goon fan boy. So Tim decides to try his luck.

His luck is fantastic.

One unfairly hot make out session and some holoscreen clicks later, they are in a private "hangout" room. The kind someone so very kindly stuffed a bed into. Nice. And then? It occurs to Tim? "Oh HEY, not my real body... means no incriminating marks or patrol stopping bruises, tomorrow! I really CAN cut loose!"

So he demands that Malone REALLY puts his back into it. Bend him in half and make a Gotham man see God. Feels Malone go DANGEROUSLY, delightfully still beneath him, as he purrs his gleefully bratty demands right into his ear. Those strong hands tightening on his hips. He's gonna get put RIGHT were Malone wants him~

And he does.

Held open, pinned down. Dragged into just the right position to rock his world. Feeling gloriously split apart in away he'd never let himself have normally. Because he wouldn't be able to WALK afterwards. Claiming, brutal hands. Hot and perfect against his skin, making him feel so WANTED and desired. Getting dragged down to meet each powerful thrust, feeling that thick rod DRAG against and reshape EVERYTHING.

By the time he logs out, his pants are a sodden mess.

He's definitely hooked.

(And, unbeknownst to him, so is Bruce.)

He goes back, during his down times, to "destress".

Meets an acrobat at a virtual circus. They keep their masks on, seem so familiar. The guy's a fan of the Flying Graysons, Tim gets bent over dressing bench, surround by sequins and silks, beneath the eternal grin of his brother. It shouldn't be as hot as it is. He's lifted and balanced with such EASE. Treated like a sweet little treasure, even as his body is pounded and teased mercilessly.

(Dick is enchanted. In love. HAS to find the man he... "met" at the circus.)

Then there's the man at The Library. It's hailed as the largest of the modern age. Sue Tim, he got curious. They literally run into each other, rounding a corner. They talk books. Talk Gotham. Shit talk the mayor. Tim is seduced by cheesy pickup lines. Totally laughs at him, when his "Hangout" room of default is "Night in The Library". Neeeerd~!

His laughter gets kissed of his face. And yeah, he can admit, it's pretty intimate here. Soothing. Makes every noise he makes seem so LOUD. Which of course immediately becomes a problem when Nerdy Pants decides to reveal his Savant Level oral.

Propped up in an over stuffed chair, legs over Library Guy's shoulders, with nothing but the crackle of the fireplace and the sound Tim's choking on, trying not to make? He's loosing his MIND. Melting. Library Guy's fingers deep inside him, rubbing and fucking against just the right spots. His mouth relentless and hungry on Tim's poor clit. It's over embarrassingly fast.

But it keeps GOING.

He just trails claiming little kisses, with the barest hint of teeth, up and up. Consumes Tim's mouth. Fingers come free. And then he's replaced them with something bigger. Bent Tim in half. Doesn't let up.

Leaving Tim pinned. Barely able to breathe. Getting filled again and again, lazy at first but faster and harder as time passes. Nothing but pressure and pleasure and TAKING IT. Feeling claimed. The center of the world. Of his focus. He hasn't ONCE stopped talking. Praising. Tim is so good, taking it so well. Being so good for him.

(It feels like falling in love. Coming home. Jason goes a little bit insane. HAS to find the guy. You don't understand-!)

And really? Tim's hook up streak has been flawless, he thinks. Decides to check out some gaming areas. Maybe do a little Role Play. And? Most bore him. But one game seems fun. He picks staff fighter, for obvious reasons. Stumbles upon a... frankly absurd Beast Master. Dude has a ZOO.

Isn't even fighting. Well, he IS. But... HE fights. The animals wait. Then he goes back to trying to tame the horned bunny rabits.

Obviously Tim has to meet this guy. That's kinda hilarious.

Together, they hunt down the Rare And Elusive Tricorn(tm). Thing is massive and brutal looking. Beast Master dude clearly adores it. Treats it like a baby. But, in order to catch the next creature on his list? They have to wait for the night cycle. Unfortunately, Tim did not know "camp kits" were a thing. So... no, dude. He DOESN'T have a bed roll to wait out here and heal up.

It's either hike back to town or share yours.

Tim offers to be the little spoon, if that helps. Apparently it does. He gets all of 15 minutes of lite napping before he feels a not so little friend come to say hello. Oh~? Beast blusters. It means nothing! Tim's pants are just very form fitting! Desperate, red faced excuses!

And now? Well now Tim's GOTTA.

A hand on his chest, run teasingly dooooown to his belt. Is that SO, Beast Master? Mmmhm? The man chokes on his words. Watches, wide eyed, as Tim leans down ever so slowly, a licks a strip up his length. Swallows him to the root. He makes the most delightfully desperate, needy, sound. Hands spasming at his side, clearly having no idea what to do with them.

By the time Tim is straddling him, slowly lowering himself down onto that thick cock, he's figured it out. Hands trying to drag his hips down faster. Roving over his skin to touch and claim. Tim let's the man flip them. Looming, panting and wild eyed, over him. Shaking like he's overwhelmed, his hands a vice around Tim's hips, bent over like he's moments from crumbling.

The snap of his hips is DESPERATE. Like if he doesn't fuck as deep as he can RIGHT NOW, he'll die. Folding forward to rest his head on Tim's shoulder, panting against his skin, fucking like he's trying to break him. It's so clumsy. Virginal and inexperienced. Completely missing his best spots half the time, focused on chasing his own pleasure.

Tim is the one who has to tease his body. To play with his clit. But... but the way he's so DESPERATE for him? Whining. Nearly sobbing for air? Hips jerking and stuttering? It's good. So, so good. Beast fills him over and over. Clings to him. He logs out wishing he could take that stuffed feeling with him.

(Damian has become a man. But is equal parts frantic and furious with the realization that he can't Take Responsibility for his actions. Where THE FUCK is his Lover?! He needs to FIND THEM! Aaaaaaa-!)

Things are going great! Tim continues to hook up. Unknowingly, with Capes. Because frankly? He has A Type. It leaves horny, horny chaos in its wake. Until! For, you know, No Reason in Particular *cough* Batman FINALLY manages to break in to the HQ of the VR game's offices, get to their mainframe, and download the FULL user base archive.

For Justice reasons, obviously.

To Catch Criminals, of course.

DEFINITELY not to look up one specific user name and trace it back to its user's location, cross reference street addresses, and start working through apartment numbers searching for a VR device. That would be WRONG and they'd never do that.

....... but I mean..... IF THEY DID? Well~ Tim's in for a suprise :D

-🐼🐼🐼

if there's one thing bats will be: its obsessed!!!! bruce, dick, jason, and damian hopelessly pining over a vr hookup only to find out it was tim all along is soo good!!!

[fictionadventurer]

Fairy Tale Retelling I'll Never Write: King Thrushbeard as 1930s screwball comedy

The "princess" is the daughter of a business magnate who has managed to hang onto his wealth in the midst of the Depression.

Girl has some kind of "coming-out" ball where she insults all the men with the best '30s zingers available.

Including our young, handsome, witty hero (son of an even richer business magnate) who can go toe-to-toe with her in arguments, until she slaps him with a Thrushbeard nickname that sticks.

Her outraged father declares he'll marry her off to the first tramp who shows up at their door.

Thrushbeard, who's really attracted to this difficult girl, learns of this from his cynical, sharp-tongued, somewhat-socialist journalist friend, and makes some remark about how he'd be willing to live as a hobo to have her. Journalist friend retorts that Thrushbeard couldn't last a day outside his life of luxury.

Because this is a rom-com, this leads to A Bet. If Thrushbeard can successfully wed this girl in the guise of a hobo, he has to live like one for a certain amount of time, without drawing on his father's resources or letting her on to his true identity.

Thrushbeard shows up in disguise, there is Witty Sparring between him and the princess, and the princess winds up marrying him mostly to spite her father--if he thought this threat would make her apologize for her behavior, he had another think coming. Now his family legacy's tied to a hobo and he's got to live with that.

Unfortunately, so does she. The newlyweds are out in the street within moments of the wedding.

There is Comedy about how the princess haa no clue how to function outside her clean and glamorous world, and Thrushbeard's not much better.

With some assist from Journalist Friend (who is not about to let the story of the century slip out of his grasp) they manage to hop a freight car and settle down in a shanty town.

More Comedy about her total inability to complete domestic tasks. So it's not Totally Sexist, she gets the upper hand when her husband also proves unable to complete these tasks he claims were child's play.

There are various attempts to Find Jobs and Make Money, which are all humorously thwarted by Comedy Shenanigans. Journalist Friend has his work cut out for him just to keep these two idiots alive. (He wants to win the bet, but he also doesn't want to be responsible for his buddy's death.)

At one point, the couple winds up in a boxcar again and share a heart-to-heart where they finally see each other as people instead of sparring partners.

Princess finally starts a sidewalk stand where she starts to make a bit of money. In an Unfortunate Coincidence, Thrushbeard's dad shows up in the area, and Thrushbeard has to meet him as himself to keep him from finding out about this cockamamie scheme. During this confrontation (with his father who thinks he's shirking his responsibilities), Thrushbeard is inadvertently responsible for destroying his wife's stand.

To Thrushbeard's horror, his wife responds by demanding a new job to replace the one she lost, and his father gives her a job working in one of his houses.

Now Thrushbeard has to live a double life as himself and as the hobo husband his wife knows.

At a Glittering Party, Thrushbeard as Wealthy Heir is the center of attention while his wife is working as a servant and frugally trying to swipe scraps for his supper.

He tries to avoid her, but Tangled Comedy Mishaps lead him to stumble over her, sending her scraps flying and causing her major embarrassment as some members of the press recognize her.

In trying to help her, he acts too much like her husband, and the secret slips.

His wife slaps him silly.

She subjects him to a scathing tirade about what a heartless nutcase he is, and how the worst part is that she had fallen in love with her hobo of a husband, but he's not even real, and you can die in a ditch for all I care.

She tries to storm out, but he catches her by the wrists and tries to explain that he did it all out of Love for Her, and he did everything wrong and she can have her divorce if she wants, but he loves her more than ever and he'll love her until the day he dies.

She just stares at him, and finally she's like, "You're worse than a nut. You're a sap. And I'm the nut who's falling for it."

(It's a screwball comedy rom-com. Emotional realism has no place here).

Kisses, reconciliation, big proper society wedding. Journalist Friend wins big with his inside scoop (which Mr. and Mrs. Thrushbeard allow him to publish because he did keep them alive (even though this is all his fault) and the story's public anyway so they may as well get the facts from a friendly source.)

Thrushbeard and his wife both take steps to improve their fathers' business practices and help out their hobo friends.

Journalist friend gives them a wedding present of an unpublished photo of them standing in front of their shanty looking all gooey-eyed at each other. The couple hangs it in a place of honor in their fancy house, and the story ends on that image.

[itadore-you]

tenya iida x gn!reader w/c: 800 c/w: none, it's fluff! context: idk abt you guys but im shortsighted and cannot stand seeing everything in 4K ultra HD when I'm trying to focus on something. basically simp iida pays no attention to his surroundings when ur around.

Iida is always known to wear his glasses. Not to omit the obvious (he needs them to see), but he likes the visual acuity, the awareness of his surroundings at all times. Rarely ever does he remove those rectangular frames from his nose bridge, and if he does, the only reason for that would be sleeping, or when his trusty pair of glasses doesn’t survive another round of intense hero training. Unlike Bakugo who surreptitiously stows away his reading glasses from time to time, or choosing the more practical contact lenses that Yaoyorozu wears, Tenya sticks to his glasses like glue. It’s a rare sight, to spot him without them. 

About 2 minutes left before your estimated time of arrival - Tenya notes the position of the hands of the clock, before catching a flash of movement in his peripheral - he can already tell from the rhythm of your walk and those signature colours, that it’s you. As you step closer and closer to him, he’s resting the glasses atop his head. Maybe his short-sightedness is a blessing in disguise - the world then suddenly blurs into a cascade of colour, bringing you into focus as he stands to pull out a chair for you. Ever the gentleman. His eyes concentrate fully on you now, and since you’re up close, you’re all that he can see. 

But this time, when he’s with you, it’s a little bit different. He can’t quite find the words to describe it, but when he’s with you, it’s like the whole world stops. You’re the only focus of his attention. Even now, as he waits for you inside this quaint cafe, there seems to be a lag in the seconds counted on his wristwatch. Iida was early, of course, and he’s been anticipating your agreed time of rendezvous for the past 10 minutes and 34 seconds (not that he’s been counting). He checks the time on his watch again, then his phone, and triple checking with the clock on the opposite wall - perhaps he is just impatient, he decides, because it feels like it’s been an eternity waiting for you. Not your fault that he turned up so early.

In the meantime, Tenya tells himself that he’s ‘got to relax a little more’ since that’s what Midoriya advised him to do. It was odd coming from his friend, who used to shake like a leaf whenever anyone remotely showed interest in him. Nonetheless, Iida had determined on numerous occasions that Midoriya’s advice was to be taken seriously and he was willing to trust him anyway. Tenya finds himself crossing, then uncrossing, his ankles; Ruffling his hair a little… only to run his hands through it again, putting his hair back into place. People have told him before that he comes across as ‘uptight’, which Iida normally doesn’t question.

Now he chooses to wonder if you would describe him that way, if you would like it, and why you wouldn’t. Tenya is a logical man, who quickly resolves this sequence of thoughts by deciding that no matter what, he presented as his best self, and if you wouldn’t like that, well so be it. 

“Tenya! This place is beautiful. How did you even find it in the first place?” 

He smiles at you, eyes gone soft and gooey with affection. The first thing that he thinks is that you look breathtaking, as per usual, and the words slip from his thoughts, out of his mouth. His heart swells when you bashfully admit that you wanted to say he looked good first. Not only that, but he could swear on his life that your pupils dilated a little. Your words swim in his ears as he gazes at you, fully taken in by your beauty. It’s then that he remembers to answer your question, disclosing that it may have been a romantic suggestion given to him by one of your friends.

You find it funny when Iida tells you this, thinking about how he must have been at a total loss when trying to organise your date. He had insisted that he should be the one to plan it since you asked him out first. Looking at him now, you notice his glasses nested atop his midnight-coloured hair and the way that he has moved his stool slightly closer to yours. It’s cute, especially watching him squint whenever he looks into the distance after he’s been lowkey staring at you for too long. 

It’s maybe for the first time in a while, that Iida loses track completely of what’s going on around him. He doesn’t notice the time passing by, he barely even notices when someone almost spills their hot coffee on him as they walk past. There’s no other way for him to describe this lax feeling, other than the world being dipped underwater, but only you two are afloat.

[ofwinterandspring]

THE REGENT / THE UNCLE

When Segal Moriel heard of his sister's demise at the hands of Levanmount, he knew he would do anything to protect and avenge the Moriel family name. And he did. He made waste of the Levan royal bloodline and forced its people under Aesian rule. That was ten years ago. Still, the Levan's want their sovereign, but how safe can it be to crown the Heir when he's spent those same ten years fighting insurrections.

charismatic ✘ shrewd ✘ proud ✘ trustful ✘ resentful

THE COUSIN / THE SCIENTIST

Although Rochlin Moriel's father preferred he'd locked himself in his lab than make a mockery of their family name. His father's disdain has not stopped the Heir from granting him all their support. With the looming war and stories of a deadly prophecy soon to unfold, he's ding all he can short of taking the throne, to help the Heir see another day.

loyal ✘ resourceful ✘ diplomatic ✘ persuasive ✘ grounded

THE HEIR'S GUARDIAN

Yardane Zered, better known as Dane, had barely been twenty-seven when he made an oath that if anything should happen to Aerben, his best friend and captain, he would take on the responsibility as legal guardian of Aerben's child. Dane never got to ask why Aerben thought him capable of raising a child. Or why Aerben had chosen to go on a trip that he'd never return from. All Dane knew was that he had a promise to keep and a child to raise and protect.

cynical ✘ stubborn ✘ diligent ✘ wise ✘ gentle

THE ASSASSIN

Santana Dur, a charming and witty barmaid most days. No one would guess that she was the same assassin many believed to be the demon from the woods. And she would have kept her anonymity had she not attempted to rob a curious and heavily disguised Heir out of sheer boredom. So maybe she gains a secret she can leverage at any moment's notice, but what good would it be when the Heir offers her gold and silver in exchange for her services.

unpredictable ✘ secretive ✘ fearless ✘ arrogant ✘ blunt

THE GUARDS / THE TWINS

The inside joke between the Riders is that Aymel and Lyron Dur must have shared a womb and have been lied to by their mothers. Because no matter what, it seems that the two can never be separated from each other for very long. Where they find one, the other is not far behind. Unfortunately, meeting the two can only mean one thing and that's imminent death. As guards to the Heir, they take their job seriously. Now, if anyone cares to even whisper of the things these two get up to at night rest assure that they will cease to exist.

intelligent ✘ daring ✘ flirtatious ✘ mischievous ✘ dramatic personable ✘ reliable ✘ genial ✘ charitable ✘ thorough

THE STORYKEEPER [THE SEER]

No one seems to know much about Zephan Caeth, the bard who loitered Aesian roads and caught the sights of their Heir, earning themselves the official title of Storykeeper of the Lands. All anyone knows is that whenever they play their oud, a truth is unveiled and little can be done to anticipate the lies it will break. They're a menace to all who wish to be ignorant and it's no surprise why the Aesian's are taken to them.

insightful ✘ artistic ✘ guarded ✘ diplomatic ✘ skeptical

THE GUARDIAN OF RILCHANAR

In what seemed to be a matter of seconds, Vyath Lya and their ward were stripped from their title and escorted to the borders of their city with no chance of return. Having pledged an oath should have saved them both. But, their friend refused to be silenced. So they followed their friend into the brume knowing that they would never find their way back. And what did it matter? All Vyath cared about was figuring out how they'd be allowed back in.

strong-willed ✘ loyal ✘ confident ✘ stubborn ✘ rational

MASTER BLACKSMITH OF NERILLIS

As one of the few Master Blacksmiths of Nerillis, Ivar Gailion knew he would never see the world outside the great caves. With responsibilities like keeping the Eternal fires from burning out, an honor bestowed on few, he should have lived his Immortal life passing on his gift to his apprentice. And somehow by doing just that, he finds himself leaving the caves behind, headed on a nameless journey with his closest friends— the ungifted apprentice who came to them several years ago.

compassionate ✘ dependable ✘ patient ✘ hearty ✘ tactful

SON OF RO [ACOLYTE]

Fievel Ro, wasn't in a place to question Ro's plan. If Ro thought that they best served as the Regent's hired protection, than they'd do just that. And, what was there to question when they were paid handsomely for it? Everything they ever wanted was at the tips of their fingers. So why was it that despite Ro's strict orders to stay away from the Heir, they couldn't stay away?

clever ✘ seductive ✘ self-indulgent ✘ reserved ✘ unreliable

[strawberryforks]

quite the pair // jason todd x reader

summary: you and jason are bestfriends, partners, and you’re sick.

warnings: swearing, alludes to assualt, violence, throwing up

word count: 1961

there was more to jason todd than met the eye. he didn’t make friends easily but he was a good one. he had you, who he met in the streets, back when he was living there. who smiled at him and handed him a can of corn that had it not been unopened, he would’ve swore was poisoned. or a disguised explosive. or… well, he didn’t know, but nothing good ever came for free.

he needed to repay you somehow so he stuck around. he didn’t do anything but he watched. observed.

you were skin and bones; the picture of malnutrition. you shivered and your teeth gnashed against each other while you slept, leaning against the side of a green bin. you had a blanket for the longest time and then you didn’t. he’d come back from stealing and selling tires to find the only warmth you had was your own embrace.

your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself and you rocked back and forth. the only sound in the entire alleyway, as he approached, was your breathing and the thrumming of your head as you banged it lightly on the metal behind you. you heard his footsteps, heard them get louder, heard him get closer, heard them stop in front of you but still, you kept your eyes shut tight. you didn’t have anything else to give, you couldn’t help anymore, and more than that, you couldn’t bare to see the disappointment in someone’s eyes when you turned them down.

it was dark–you recall it being around midnight because moments before the footsteps, before meeting the boy who’d come to change your life, you were staring up at the sky. clouds were thick and dark but moonlight sat behind them, just a lighter patch in the sky, waiting for it’s chance. the stars, though, there were none. the closest to that you had gotten that night was when a man flicked away the ash from his cigarette. on it’s decent to the puddle ridden asphalt it glowed a deep orange. like a shooting star, hell, like a meteor, you wished on it. you don’t remember what you wished for, just that it came true. you felt wind in your face and fabric was draped over your shoulders, then there were hands.

“up you go,” jason encouraged. he’d pulled you into his side, given you his sweater, and got some food into you.

he’d more than repaid the debt but… you did your part too. you made him smile–a feat he didn’t think was even possible, having not used what he assumed were dead and decaying muscles, in so long. you told dumb jokes but they made him laugh so you didn’t care, you called him jay and you helped when you could. he kept you as close to him at all times as he could.

gotham was a dangerous place. it was too dangerous for someone as good as you, but he couldn’t help that. he couldn’t make the world a better so he had to make you worse–because your trusting nature? your tendency to see the best in people? to smile at strangers and go without so someone else wouldn’t have to? it fucking terrified him.

he brought you with him one night, and made you a witness to various crimes. each time, he quieted you, pressed his hand over your mouth and whispered horrors he’d seen. he told you how the world was and how it worked.

but until something happened to you, until jason came back from stealing and saw a man hurting you, you didn’t believe that the whole world was awful. until jason slammed a tire rim into him, staining it red and leaving him limp, you thought there was some good. then you didn’t. you realised there wasn’t.

and then? then batman took you both in. the batman. bruce-motherfucking-wayne decided to play dad to two homeless, orphaned, violent, and thieving teenagers.

at first he just wanted to take jason. he had no interest in raising a girl but when he looked at you, watched you hug jason, whisper “goodbye,” and saw you ready to sprint away, it was decided.

the world was selfish and in a way it had made you selfish too. but there was one person you were willing to be unselfish for and it was him. jason todd. your jay. you wanted what was best for him, you’d live on the streets, die there too, if that’s what it took. then, batman, who’d decided he also wanted what was best for jason, realised that it was you. you were what he needed.

both of you were placed in the backseat of the batmobile that’s tires, much to jason’s displeasure, were still in place.

then you were brought to your new home. it had more to offer than the occasional canned food and bread crumbs. you didn’t have to dumpster dive, didn’t have to struggle. there were heaters and blankets and stocked cupboards and even a butler named alfred.

batman didn’t have plans for you, just jason, who he wanted as his robin. you never liked feeling left out so you trained too. just… privately at first. sitting on jason’s bed (you weren’t yet comfortable sleeping anywhere he wasn’t and batman came to realise that superhero–super vigilante, or whatever, it didn’t matter because there was absolutely nothing short of attaching a ball and chain to both of your ankles that he could do about it) you swung your legs over the edge, them not quite hitting the floor, and made what jason thought was small talk. idle conversation.

“so, how was training?” he dabbed at his face with a cloth, collecting sweat, and sighed. he didn’t mind training, i mean, he thought it sucked, but liked that there was a goal to work towards, and that the goal was him being stronger, and that if he was stronger no one would ever be able to hurt anyone he cared about–there was only you–ever again. “what did batman make you do today? anything different?”

“well,” said jason. “we sparred today. i ran on the treadmill, lifted weights, and i think he made me do, like, 1000 pushups.” jason may have exaggerated there, but you didn’t quite understand. sarcasm, hyperboles, they weren’t your forte. it took you a full twenty four hours, but in sets of ten, you managed. you fought one of the pillows in your room–not well, but you did, and ran around the bed that you’d pulled into the centre of the room until you were panting. the next day you couldn’t spoon fucking cereal into your mouth but six months later batman finally caved.

“train me.” you said, not begging anymore–long past that actually. “i can do just as many pushups as jason can. i can run fast. i can do good, batman. i know i can. i know there's not enough good in the world, that it’s a shit place and that there’s shit people but i’m not one of them. i’ll do good, be good. i swear.”

“you can train but for self defence purposes. robin and i have the crime fighting handled.”

“i’ve been training. i want to train with you and jay. if there's something i can’t do i’ll sit out, you won’t have to babysit me, i won’t say a single word. just let me try. if i fail i’ll drop it.”

when batman tries to make you fail your odds aren’t great. when your best friend, his sidekick, taps out before you do, they improve drastically.

with the bat’s stamp of approval you kept training and training. you patrolled with them, with jason, and while jason was robin you were batgirl. at 18 (you) and 19 (jason) the two of you go out on your own without batman, he checks on you sometimes but doesn’t feel the need to chaperone you on your crime fighting endeavours.

it’s around ten pm, when the crime picks up in the streets, and jason is beginning to get impatient. you’re not the most punctual but right now you’re really late. he could start without you, scale a building and begin searching for some drug deal to bust or mugging to stop. he could… but he doesn’t. jason–well, robin, pulls out his phone and calls you. you’re in bed, not dressed in your suit, and it’s all you can do to roll over. you slide your thumb against your screen, answering with a barely audible groan. your face is pressed into the blanket and jason’s voice spills through the speaker. “where are you?”

“m’home…” you manage.

“what’s wrong? did something happen? home as in the apartment or–screw it,” jason is standing up, he’s checking your location himself, seeing that you’re at the wayne manor and sprinting back the way he came.

“jay it’s okay. i’m fine, just sick.”

“i’m coming home.”

“no,” you whine, “you have patrol. protect the city and the people. duty and…” you cough. rub your throat, “whatnot.”

jason doesn’t respond but you know he’s not listening. you hear the sound of clothes being removed and assume he’s changing out of his suit.

you roll your eyes, he really is stubborn. you try again “you’re a hero, jay.” what’s supposed to be a motivational speech is interrupted by a coughing fit. you slam your finger down on the mute button and press your face into the big bowl you took from the cabinet, retching.

when you’re done, you hit unmute. “you’ve got to do your thing and save the world.” your voice is scratchy, your throat hurts. your ribs too. you’ve been in serious battles less painful–against two face, the joker. being sick sucks.

“i plan to. but my world’s at home in bed, coughing her lungs out. i’m stopping at the drug store and i’ll be home, ‘kay?”

“okay…”

jason makes you stay on the phone until he walks through the door. he hangs up and helps you to the bathroom. “you should’ve told me you were puking i would’ve grabbed some pepto,” you shake your head, “wouldn't be able to keep it down,” and watch as he not-so-subtly attempts to slide the bag of your favourite candies behind him. your smile comes out pained as another wave of nausea hits and you’re in the bathroom dry heaving above the toilet. he holds your hair back (if it’s shorter, he rubs your scalp soothingly) and when you’re done, helps you back to the bed.

he’s walking around you, doting. there’s a water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, he’s brought you a heating pad, filled a hot water bottle, and pulled the blankets all the way up. tucking them under your chin. he’s checked your temperature twice and walks back in front of the bed toying with the thermometer. “jay, stop pacing.”

“are you okay? should i get alfred?”

“i’ll be fine. either leave so you don’t get sick or come here,” you pat the spot next to you and jason walks over, lowering himself down onto the bed and pulling you into his arms. he kisses your forehead, “my immune system seems to be a lot stronger than yours, batgirl.”

“mhm,” you agree. “all the training in the world couldn’t help that, robin.”

jason grumbled and you raised a brow. “still mad about that?”

“that you got the bat prefix? nah, i’m happy being a sidekick named after a bird. ‘course i’m mad. not at you though.” never at you is what he leaves out, “at batman. my hero name could’ve been way cooler.”

“are you telling me you’d rather be batboy?” you ask, tone incredulous.

he chuckles, shoulders raising in a shrug. “we’d make quite the pair.”

“we already do, dummy.”

that night batman covers for you two–he patrols and you stay in your partners arms, recovering. later, he helps alfred make you soup. everything is easy with him. even getting better.

[darlenicy]

Darcy and Riven – their story and why I ship them

In January 2023 I found my way back into the Winx fandom - more precisely, I created this Tumblr on January 28th, 2023 and since then I have been constantly passionate about this show from my childhood. Most of all, of course, for our three favorite witches. Accordingly, this year I have given a lot of thought and HCs to the Trix and their relationships. Today is the day that I'm going to write down all of these HCs and thoughts I have and tag them properly so that they're easier to find in my jumble of posts, reblogs and crazy fangirling. Well, have fun!

I got my first anon ask about Driven headcanons (hcs most of the time now) in march and therefore tried to order my thoughts on this topic as well. It actually became something of a definition of their relationship and how I see them in the show: This is how my bullet journal looks:

Riven is pretty badass. That's why Rivusa doesn't make much sense because ego-wise he would have gone after best-girl-Bloom. Or Princess Stella, but more Bloom, simply because Brandon (Sky) obviously found Bloom interesting.

Then there is Darcy. Not only is she the complete opposite of the loud, glittering fairy gang, but she also forms a stark contrast to Riven. She is powerful, yes, but above all she is calm, goal-oriented and come on in 1x8 we see how cute she is. Of course, Riven likes her power-talk in 1x9 but he surely is keen on her because she is a totally different type of girl than Musa or Stella.

Oh, and an important thing that just came to my mind while supervising what I wrote and putting it into a post: DARCY DID NOT MIND-CONTROL HIM IN CANON!

Her glowing eyes meant that she formed the connection with Riven, so that he could contact her mentally later on in the show!

It's fkn 4kids who came up with the mind control because they tend to downplay everything for all American kids' sake. - Ok back to the post:

In terms of type, if comparted to the fairies, Darcy is mostly like Flora, but in contrast to the nature fairy, she has a much more self-confident demeanor. She is also the first to respond to Riven as a person and his needs (power, being recognized). Then of course there is the matter of rescue. Firstly: Thanks for saving my life and secondly: The woman can ride this flying motorcycle like a guy. Where can you find something like that? And unlike the Winx, who are constantly in trouble, Darcy (and her sisters) is beyond competent (in Season 1 after all, we know how the writing goes down, *sigh*). So, we have Darcy: a beautiful, competent badass BB who just saved his life and looks like an angel that fell from heaven - all in the specialist uniform too - sexyyy. So, it's an extremely attractive girl who also knows guy things and cares about him and really sees and perceives him as a person. She's not a self-centered good-time girl who makes him clean, so she doesn't have to endure her punishment alone (looking at you, Winx....)

But who exactly is Darcy? (she's my girl, my bb, my queen) Out of the Trix, she is probably the one who is least behind the world domination plans. Of course, she is still a member of the Trix - and of course not less power-hungry than her sisters. But she would be the one most likely to give up everything to live a quiet but fulfilling life with the person she loves. Isn't she? She is definitely the first to panic and to make mistakes as a result. We remember episode 1x5, where she immediately panicked when everything didn't work out as planned. She thought she would find Stella's ring in no time, that wasn't the case. Instead of keeping a cool head like Icy would have, she freaks out and starts attacking Bloom. Is it fear because she is running out of time and doesn't know what to do if her disguise is exposed? In any case, Darcy would have been expected to wear a more confident disguise. But in the end, she's the one most likely to panic and this episode shows that perfectly. Maybe that's also the reason why she has clever ideas, but often doesn't think them through. In episode 2x10 she tries to get Icy to put the feather in the scales, fearing that she might have made a mistake and get wiped just like Stormy, who had previously hit the scales with brute force. Icy states very correctly: You’re a backstabbing coward, Darcy. And I love you for that. And with that she the nail right on the head. Darcy is certainly the first of the Trix to get nervous. She certainly has a tendency to overthink, whereas Riven strikes first and thinks later (at best).

Mind control is her specialty. She knows how to get into the minds of her victims to confuse and weaken them. At the same time, she also knows how uncertain and dangerous feelings can be. When it comes to having deep feelings for someone else, she is more likely to be the one who is insecure and cautious. Precisely because feelings are so uncertain, she probably tries to make decisions with her head rather than with her guts.

Their love story is iconic and cute. Basically, we have good girl and bad boy, but the good girl is one of the bad guys and the bad boy is ultimately one of the good guys. They haven't really fought against each other yet. Riven only knows that Darcy is one of the most powerful witches in Cloud Tower and that she and her sisters hate the Winx. Since Riven is skeptical of the Winx himself and has no deeper connection to them, he has little to do with this antipathy from both sides and perhaps only hears about it in passing from Brandon or Sky. So in 1x7 he doesn't pay much attention to the Trix. The fact that he turns on the light and exposes the Trix is once again Riven being Riven. He wants to be the cool dude and doesn't really care about the situation. He simply has no interest in the Winx's affairs and is only pissed when he becomes personally involved with Musa being thrown into his arms by the minotaur. Maybe that’s where his inner hero speaks? But first and foremost, he wants to praise himself. The first time he really notices Darcy is in 1x8, where she represents to him the complete opposite of the fairies, one of which had just shown him up (Bloom).

Darcy, on the other hand, is already interested in Riven in 1x7 and hides the whole thing behind the talk about the Prince of Darkness (seriously, WHO is the Prince of Darkness? Why is that never clarified?). One episode later, she's extremely worried that something might happen to Riven with Icy's, admittedly delicate, plan. bb obviously already has a crush on him. And no one can claim that Icy doesn't know this and is actively using it for her plan. I think that Darcy's feelings didn't matter to her at all, thinking she'd get over it sooner or later. But the fact is, even Icy sees the spark fly between them.

So you could say it was love at first sight for both of them. It is also important for Riven that after all the disappointments and constant criticism he was exposed to at Red Fountain, someone finally recognizes him and his talents. While the Winx, especially Stella, just complained about him, Darcy supported what he was. Partly because she can take advantage of his ambitions, of course, and partly because she simply likes him. I think there are some things Darcy does simply for herself and not because it's part of the plan to rule the Magic Dimension.

From Riven's point of view, what probably also speaks for Darcy is her maturity. She's not a little fairy to save. The opposite is the case. She is probably more experienced in other things too - but that always depends on the respective HC. Darcy can be a bad bitch and cute bb - both are accurate. For me though, she gives more bb vibes than bitch vibes. However, she appears much more mature and confident than the fairies. Speaking of bb (she's one, look at her!) -

she's the type most likely to develop romantic feelings. Icy is too calculating and Stormy is just there for the passion (if you get what I mean). In 2x2 we have this scene "*sigh* To be young and in love...".

She's also the one of the Trix most likely to feel something resembling remorse, if only for her time with Riven. On the other hand, in season 2 we have Riven, who immediately sees through Darcy's attacks - because he knows them. Very well. There is probably still a connection between the two. There could have been more hints about their relationship besides “cute” and “not cute”. There could have been one or two longing looks. I FELL ROBBED.

That’s basically how I interpret their story and why I ship them. I’ll come up with some headcanons these days as well. Stay tuned :3

[sitp-recs]

15 fics with Militant Harry

I don’t know you guys but I’m equally soft for recluse!Harry and for militant!Harry. Maybe because I’m a sucker for political fics? Truth is, seeing Harry get involved can be so thrilling and inspiring. He doesn’t need to be attached to the Ministry to care about people - I love it when he’s doing the good deed behind the scenes, dismantling corruption while on the run, funding charities or unapologetically using his fame and voice to leverage better policies for those who are marginalized. That’s such a beautiful and powerful Harry trope imo, and the best thing is that in many of the fics I highlight below, Draco either seduces him into joining the revolution, or is there to inspire and help him along the way. Talk about a power couple! I hope you all enjoy these as much as I did ♥️

A Little Death Never Hurt Anyone by @tackytigerfic (E, 4k)

Harry's getting good at slipping through the Veil. He's determined to win the war, even if means he has to raise the dead to do it. Draco just wants a stiff drink and a good night's sleep.

And Save Me From Bloody Men by @blamebrampton (T, 10k)

Draco Malfoy once watched others fighting to stop the world falling apart. This time, he's not just watching.

Two Zinnias and the Scent of Lemon by @the-starryknight (M, 16k)

The Ministry didn’t turn bad overnight. Harry didn’t suddenly turn rogue either. Between covert Legilimency links and Polyjuice disguises and running and running and running, Draco has forgotten what it is like to have a safe harbor that isn’t a person. If there’s an art to fighting back, then they’ll find it hand in hand.

Vortex by @xanthippe74 (T, 20k)

Ten years after that conversation, the idea of perfectly-matched soulmates feels more like a curse than a blessing to Draco. Who would want a soulmate who was a schoolyard bully, a Death Eater, and a convicted felon? Certainly not Harry Potter. And Draco is determined to take this secret to the grave.

Unfinished Business by cupiscent (E, 20k)

Ten years after the War ends, Harry and Draco still haven't got their act together. But maybe it's not too late.

Doing the Lambeth Walk by @blamebrampton (T, 26k)

There are only three traditional choices for the cashed-up hero after victory. Harry Potter is too young to settle down and provide the wizarding world with a happy ending, and has too acute a sense of humour to spiral downwards into a spectacular flame-out. That leaves a life of good works. Choosing to lead it in Muggle Brixton comes with its own set of challenges, including Malfoys in the biscuit aisle.

The Nobility of Ascent by Lomonaaeren (E, 27k)

Not even his own fame and power are enough to get the Wizengamot to pass laws protecting Muggleborn and orphaned children, so Harry swallows his pride and goes to Draco Malfoy, who can teach him how to convince the prejudiced old bastards to listen to him. And Malfoy hasn’t even named a price. Which…concerns Harry, but he’s found a cause worth living for. And maybe someone, too.

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night in Soho) by @writcraft (E, 65k)

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

A Young Radical's Guide to Love by @blamebrampton (T, 66k)

Memories of the war are still fresh, which is all the excuse Decent People need to do appalling things. In this quietly waged conflict, Draco Malfoy is happy to be on the right side of things for once, and even happier to find he’s not alone.

Dear Enemy by GingerTodgers (T, 69k)

An anonymous benefactor makes a generous donation to Harry Potter's School for Squibs in exchange for a weekly letter from the Boy Who Lived. What begins as a chore soon becomes the only outlet Harry has to talk about the war, love, life, hope, redemption, his renewed obsession with a certain blonde nemesis and how he really, honestly, believes that this will be the year Puddlemere United reclaim the Quidditch League Cup.

Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love by @aibidil (E, 80k)

In which a group of wizards' rights activists goes on the offensive after a prohibition against love potions, forcing the magical world to confront the horror of magic's role in sexual assault and the murky legal nature of consent. Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco are swept together to solve the case, and in the process they're made to confront their own love and lust—with and without potions.

Super Rich Kids by @thusspoketrish (E, 81k)

Draco Malfoy has become disillusioned by the glitz and glamour of the scandalous lives of the Post-Second Wizarding War Pureblood Elite. Enter: one existential crisis, one group of thieving cynical friends, and several terrible, terrible decisions.

Little Deaths and How to Avoid Them (or Draco Malfoy's Guide to Stop Dying and Start Living Instead) by nerakrose (T, 96k)

Malfoy is way too interested in coroner reports for somebody who's definitely not looking for ways to die, Harry wants to be friends with him, and Ginny wants to break up with Harry.

Who we are in the shadows by @quicksilvermaid (E, 100k)

What happens when you’re forced to become the very thing you despise? Ex-Auror Harry Potter, tossed out of the Ministry for something he had no control over, has been looking for a way back to his former life. When he comes across Draco Malfoy in the criminal underbelly of Wizarding London and in need of protection, Harry figures bringing him in to face the Ministry's justice is his ticket back to everything he's lost.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

[teatoptony]

𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 - p.j

summary; percy comforts you after finding you on the fire escape.

pairing; percy jackson x neighbor!demigod!reader

word count; 4.6k

warning(s); themes of abusive relationships. do not interact if this is a trigger for you, and please, reach out if you need help and are able. the world is full of people who can help, even if it's just little things like consolation.

a/n; sorry this took so long!! english isn’t my first language, so there might be a couple errors. feedback is always appreciated :) // takes place between the fourth and fifth book of pjo

request(s); HI HOPE YOURE HAVING A GOOD DAY/NIGHT CAN I PLEASSSSEEEEEE GET PERCY X READER "58/ "Who did this to you?"" WITH PROTECTIVE PERCY I WILL CRY!!!

Hello! Can I please request Percy Jackson x reader with prompt #58: “Who did this to you?” Thank you!

Every time Percy made his way back home after Camp, he expected all sorts of monsters to come pounding at the door. He was the son of Poseidon, after all—the more powerful a demigod was, the easier they were to smell out.

And they kind of did; dracaenae in the grocery store, pit scorpions in the gym and pretty much everywhere else. He even saw a cyclops from his bedroom window once, lumbering pretty dam close to the apartment before shaking his head, seemingly confused, and wandering off. Well, that was strange.

Percy had tried to think of anything that could have thrown the cyclops off his trail. Maybe he smelled another half-blood somewhere, or maybe he just didn't feel like having son-of-the-sea-god fillet for dinner. None of those seemed likely.

Or maybe the cyclops just lost the trail, simple as that. But in Percy’s opinion, that was even less likely than the other two options. Being a son of one of the Big Three gods, Percy was pretty much a beacon for monsters everywhere, which was why he was always hesitant when coming home after camp. He didn't want to put his mom in danger because of him (and Paul Blowfish was really nice, too).

The only way to get rid of his smell, as far as he knew, was by covering it with a stench so foul that it got masked, making Percy smell like just a rather horrid mortal to monsters. Yeah, his mom got an apartment in a shady neighborhood to sort of do just that, but a shady neighborhood wasn't nearly enough to confuse a monster like a cyclops. He needed Smelly Gabe levels of stink, at the very least.

Another reason Percy thought the whole shady neighborhood plan wasn’t what had thrown that cyclops for a loop was because of you.

Now don't get him wrong, he liked having you around. A little too much, even, which he was embarrassed to admit. You were one of the first and best friends he'd made at camp, and you had a personality that could brighten anyone's day. But two demigods living in the same building? Going to the same school, no less? That had to be a recipe in some sort of demon cook book somewhere, just imagine—'easiest-ever cheesecake with half-blood garnish: start by catching two half-bloods, preferably from the same building to keep them fresh...'

Strangely enough, though, nothing ever seemed to get near him when he was with you. No dracaenae disguised as pregnant ladies in the store, no pit scorpions crawling out from between the bookshelves in the library. Not once while hanging out with you did a monster decide to stop by for a quick snack, which was a pretty big deal considering he never left your side if he could help it. He never understood why that was.

Until tonight.

Percy never slept well at home. Sure, it was great to be there, but this wasn’t like Camp, where a magic barrier kept anything dangerous from getting in. This was a regular mortal apartment, where a Laistrygonian giant could easily lob a giant ball of fire at if he had a half-decent aim. He lay awake most nights, which was pretty frustrating since he couldn’t use a phone or something to distract himself, and trying to read just made the words float off the page. So, naturally, he used the sound that flooded through his bedroom window as a sort of white noise to help him fall asleep.

Tonight was especially difficult. He was up way past the point where his body usually started to give in to the drowsiness, and it was really pissing him off. Every time he shut his eyes and tried to force himself to go to sleep, they just opened again a minute or two later, feeling a lot drier.

Suddenly, he heard someone open then slam their window shut a few floors up. Someone slipped onto the fire escape and started climbing down. Who in Hades would be out there at this hour?

The footsteps stopped almost as soon as they started, and nothing but the usual busy murmur of the Manhattan night continued once again. How long had passed? Ten minutes? Twenty? Percy realized he hadn’t heard another window open or close. And the footsteps never passed by his window, so Percy figured whoever was out there was maybe two or three stories up from his floor – somewhere near yours – and decided to go check, grabbing Riptide in its pen form off his bedside table.

If it was just some mortal who’d decided to hang out up there, that’s fine and all. He might have to scare them off if they were too close to your window, but no one would be in actual danger. If it was a monster trying to sneak up on him, or you, for that matter, he would take care of it and come back inside. He didn’t have anything better to do, anyway. He slowly opened his window and slipped outside, being as quiet as he possibly could considering the fire escape was practically ancient.

What he found when he climbed up, however, wasn’t some rando or a monster. It was you. And while normally the sight of you would fill his stomach with butterflies so strong they practically made his skin tingle, what he saw now made his heart drop umpteen stories to the Underworld.

You were wearing your pajamas, which any sensible person would say were much too cold for the season. It was nearing winter a lot more than autumn now, and the temperature was low enough that he could see your shaky breaths. Even so, you still sat out there in nothing but a paper-thin long sleeved shirt and some sweats, hugging your knees to your chest as to either bring yourself some comfort or warmth. Probably both. Your whole body was shaking pretty hard, and Percy didn’t need to see your face to know that you were crying.

He put Riptide into his pocket and shuffled his feet a little as he got closer to you, deliberately making his presence known so he wouldn't startle you when he sat down next to you. Quickly wiping your hand across your face, you tried to clean any trace of tears as you looked up to see who was there.

“Hey, Perce,” you said, smiling at him the way you always did. Your voice would’ve sounded normal if it wasn’t so raw. The way you tried to act as though nothing was wrong made Percy want to punch something. Or someone. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the amount of sheer anger he felt. The silence was deafening as he tried to calm himself down.

“Who did this to you?” He finally asked, his voice shaking. Whether it was from anger, or the sheer amount of willpower he had to conjure to stop himself from beating whoever was the cause of this senseless, he didn’t really know. Your smile wavered a bit.

“What d’you mean?” You replied, trying your best to look confused and oblivious. If he hadn’t caught you actually crying, he was sure he would have bought it. “No one did anything to me, Percy. I’m perfectly fine. Just peachy. All that stuff.”

“Y/N, you’re crying on the fire escape in the middle of the night. I’m not that stupid.” Percy sighed, frustrated. He was your best friend, and as your best friend, it was his job to make sure no one stepped out of line around you, the way you did for him. Like how you gave anyone who tried to talk bad about him a glare so intense they would immediately shut up and run in the opposite direction. “Who did this to you?”

You stayed still for a minute, seemingly weighing your options. On the one hand, you could play dumb and go back home, the way you always did when someone asked what was wrong. You really didn’t want Percy to see you like this. On the other, he already has, so there was no point in trying to hide it.

Besides, the thought of going back to your own apartment made your blood run cold. You ran your hands up and down your arms as chills made their way along your spine.

“My boyfriend,” you finally muttered out, looking away from Percy as you spoke. “He usually stays over since my place is always empty. Practically lives there. We had a big fight about… you, actually. He said you were bad news and told me to stay away from you. I told him you were a good person who just got caught up in some pretty bad situations sometimes. He made a few accusations. Told me—”

You choked on your words. Percy put a hand over your shoulders, a bit hesitant as he wasn’t sure if you wanted him close by right now. After all, he was part of the reason you were out here in the first place. He breathed a little sigh of relief as you leaned into his touch, pressing yourself against his side as he pulled you close.

“He told me I followed you around like a puppy anyway, so to be a good little dog and run home to my master. I didn’t see a point in arguing with him, so I told him that maybe I would. He, um, didn’t like that too much.”

You let out a shaky sigh. Now that you recounted what had happened, it didn’t seem like much of a step up from what your boyfriend usually did. He never liked it when you made friends, so why did him trying to separate you from Percy feel so much more personal than all the other times he told you to cut yourself off?

While you were contemplating the reason for it, Percy was plotting a murder.

He was pretty sure Rachel had a step-by-step guide on it somewhere. But then again, why read a book when one of his other best friends was literally the daughter of the goddess of strategy? And Clarisse.. well, as much as they didn't get along, he was pretty sure she liked you more than most of the other campers, enough to threaten to pulverize anyone who hurt you with the full intent of following it through.

First things first, Seaweed Brain, Anabeth’s voice said in his head (it did that from time to time; Percy assumed he didn't really have his own voice of logic, so his brain borrowed it from the smartest person he knew). She's freezing.

“Right,” he muttered, giving your shoulders a little squeeze. You flinched. First things first, he mentally repeated, and pulled the both of you off of the cold metal platform with an apologetic look. “Let’s get you back to my place, yeah? Get you warmed up.”

You nodded and started to follow him down the stairs. Your legs were unsteady from being folded for too long in the cold, and you stumbled on the first few steps. After the first flight, Percy stopped in his tracks and looked at you for a moment, deciding whether or not carrying you was a bit too much considering there was only a floor or two left to his window. Then he decided that he didn’t care if it was and scooped you up, carrying you bridal-style.

To his surprise, you didn’t protest. He felt you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly, the act making his face go warm. If someone were to see him right now, he was sure the mix of anger and butterflies would have made his face look the color of canned tomato soup.

Once he reached his floor, he put you down and climbed in first, offering you a hand once he was inside. You smiled to yourself as little butterflies fluttered to life in your stomach, but they soon vanished and left you with a sinking feeling that quickly spread everywhere. He was just being a good friend. He doesn’t like you in that way. You have a boyfriend, you shouldn’t be thinking like this–

Percy sat you down on his bed, rummaging through his clean clothes to find something useful. Most of his clothes were really worn out, so it wasn’t much of an easy task. Then his fingers brushed against something soft, and he pulled it out to examine; it was a blue polyester sweater his mom had bought around the end of last winter. He’d worn it a lot over the last few months, but it had been washed more recently than most of his other winter clothes.

“Put this on.” He threw it across the room at you. You caught it and did as you were told, pulling it over your shirt. The scent of ocean breeze fabric detergent and a hint of sea salt washed over you. Percy took a seat beside you on the bed, his gaze boring into you as you tried your best to ignore what had just happened. A second ago, being upset had felt justifiable. Now you were just embarrassed to have been caught.

Again, that wasn’t any worse than what he did every other day. Why did it bug you so much?

“So, you don’t naturally smell like ocean breeze, huh?” You commented, trying to lighten the mood. Or maybe distract him from what he’d just seen. Hey, why not both? “A shame, really. You’d be useful in the Hermes cabin—can’t get cleaned up for inspection most of the time, so smelling nice would definitely be an improvement.”

Percy ran his hand through his hair, his frustration starting to get the better of him. “Does this sort of thing happen often?” He asked. When you didn’t answer, he gently put his hands on either side of your face, making you look at him. Finally, you sighed.

“It’s not usually this bad,” you offered, giving him a small smile. “He never means what he says—or what he does, for that matter. He just gets a little carried away when he’s worried. He’ll apologize in the morning, I’m sure. Always does.”

Usually?

Never?

Always?

This had been going on for a lot longer than Percy had imagined. How could he have let this happen? Was he so dense as to notice the signs? He’d met the guy, for fuck’s sake. He realized now that you weren’t flustered or anything like that whenever your boyfriend dragged you away from him all those times. You were dreading what would happen once no one else was around.

“This isn’t okay, Y/N,” he muttered, moving his hands to hold yours instead. His thumbs traced little patterns on your skin, and you could swear it sent little electric shocks up along your nervous system.

“He’s the best I can hope to get…” You replied, a bitter smile on your face. He told you so all the time. Your best friend got a funny look on his face, something you could only describe as ‘are you fucking kidding me?’ That look then faded into anger, then sadness, then anger again. His expression alternated between the two as he took a breath, then said,

“Tell me everything.”

You were almost certain he almost said something else, but you figured it wasn’t too important. If it was, it would come up again, eventually.

You bit your lip. You didn’t really like telling anyone about your relationship. But then again, this was Percy. He would understand, wouldn’t he?

Percy’s gaze softened as he noticed how hesitant you were. “Please? Promise I won’t judge.” He added.

Oh, come on, that voice was cheating. How could you say no?

So, you started from the top.

From the beginning of your relationship, every time you made some minor mistake, your boyfriend would swoop in and clean up the mess as a ‘favor’. Even if you knew for a fact you could set things straight on your own or didn’t want his help, he was always there to act like it was this huge deal. He would tell you that you were a hot mess, and that no one else but him would ever want to keep you around. He only put up with you because he loved you. And after a couple months, you started to believe him.

Later on, he used those favors against you to guilt you into doing things you didn't really want to do. It started with little things, like getting you to wear what he wanted all the time.

“C’mon babe, remember when I did that thing for you? Just think of it as a little thank you. You can do that for me, right?”

To quote your boyfriend, you were to wear ‘nothing too long, but nothing too skimpy, either’. You weren't allowed to take your coat off in public if you wore a dress that went above your knees, or if your top showed off a little more than what he deemed necessary. You used to joke that you felt like you were dating a high school teacher, but what little humor you managed to find in the situation gradually disappeared as your entire wardrobe was stripped of your own personality and taste.

He became more demanding over time, doing things like taking you out to party with people you barely knew in clothes that made you feel downright uncomfortable, letting his friends ‘borrow’ you if they needed arm candy for a family dinner or something to get their folks off their asses, etcetera. You’d very nearly avoided giving him your first night on his fifteenth birthday—however mad he got, that was the one thing he couldn't guilt out of you.

That was the first time he’d hit you.

“He apologized afterwards,” you quickly added, feeling Percy’s grip tighten. The two of you were now sat facing each other on the bed, shoes kicked off on the floor and legs crossed, with not much space in between except for your intertwined hands. “Like I said, he always does. He was as surprised as me when he did it, and we avoided each other for a week before he came back with a written apology. He told me he wouldn’t go further than anything PG-13 if I wasn’t okay with it.”

He nodded, but you could see his eyes getting darker with each word, their usual sea green color changing until it had more of a stormy blue tone.

Wait a minute, why were you defending the boy who hit you, again?

You continued to tell him how your boyfriend was really insecure, though he tried to hide it in public. You did your best to try to help him, reassure him that he didn’t have anything to be insecure about, but he was almost impossible.

He didn’t like it when you had friends who weren’t also his friends, or when you hung out with anyone else more than him—which, considering he went to a different school than you, meant you weren’t allowed to interact with people much other than the basic stuff. You always distanced yourself from everyone to appease him. So, seeing how much the two of you were around each other, Percy wasn’t exactly popular with your boyfriend.

He murmured passive-aggressive comments whenever he saw you with him, never directly accusing you of doing anything with him but making the questions abundantly clear. He had tried on several different occasions to get you to push him away, and every time you refused, he just got a lot more persistent.

He picked out all the times Percy had supposedly gotten you into trouble, blissfully ignorant about the world of live-action D&D that practically required you to be in danger ninety-nine percent of the time. He made comments about Percy’s ADHD and dyslexia, which you shut down immediately every time. It wasn’t cool to be rude towards people for something they couldn’t control.

Your boyfriend wasn’t used to not getting his way with you for so long, but quite frankly, you didn’t care. Percy was special to you—with him, you could pretend you were just another pair of stupid teenagers doing stupid things. Ironic, considering he was front and center for every major thing that went on. He made you feel like you could breathe, and you’d be damned before you let some sorry excuse of a person take away what little freedom Percy offered.

You made sure to leave that part out, though. There was a time and place for everything, and this wasn’t really the time to confess you had a crush on your best friend, despite having a boyfriend.

That was a secret for another time, if it were to be told at all.

Every time you’d told someone about your boyfriend so far, you’d tried to explain to them that it wasn’t all gray skies and rain. He was so sweet to you back when you were friends, before you got into a relationship; you were sure he just needed some time to get used to the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing before he bounced back to his regular old self. This time, though, you skipped that part completely.

Something about how Percy treated you made something inside you snap. It had been two whole years, and you were tired of thinking he would change, tired of holding onto hope in a hopeless situation. You were sick and tired of your boyfriend, and it was time you stopped making excuses for everything he did to you.

But, old habits died hard. You felt the all-too-familiar words on the tip of your tongue, and so, on complete impulse, you stopped yourself from starting the obligatory ‘he’s not that bad’ speech by leaning forward and burying your face against Percy’s shoulder. You could tell he was as surprised as you were, and froze on the spot. Red alarm bells blared through your head as you held your breath, waiting for him to make the next move.

Oh fuck oh gods oh fuck—

You fully expected him to push you away, but he didn’t.

Instead, one of his hands snaked around your waist to pull you closer, and closer, and closer, until you were on his lap with your legs on either side of his. He rubbed your back—not exactly in a steady rhythm, but it was comforting nonetheless. You thought you’d cried everything out earlier, but, evidently, you were wrong. Tears made their way down your face and onto Percy’s pajamas, and you choked out apologies between sobs. For what, you didn’t actually know. Getting him wet, not telling him sooner, for making him find out like this… everything.

“I’m sorry,” Another sob racked through your body. “I’m so, so sorry…”

“It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.” He said. “Come on, let it all out.”

You stayed like that for a few moments, and Percy only pulled away when he felt your breathing start to level out. When he looked at you again, your eyes were a lot redder and he was sure they’d be really swollen in the morning.

“You said he… hit you, right?” You nodded, and Percy felt his blood physically boil. “Can I take a look?”

You didn’t say anything – tired out from all the crying, he guessed – and pulled up the back of your shirt instead. Percy hastily got out from under you and got one of the first-aid kits stashed around the house, flicked on the bedside lamp, then pulled out a tub of Arnica.

Apart from the scars and stuff from general life as a demigod, your skin should have been free of any unusual marks. But it was black and blue. A lot of the bruising was more recent, a few just starting to form, so the cream would work fine. But some of it was older and had more of an ashen tone. Those would be tricky to treat, as they would require a lot more long-term care. He dabbed on some of the ointment from the tub and rubbed it in, careful not to put too much pressure. You visibly relaxed, feeling like jelly under his touch.

Once he was sure he had gotten every single bruise, he tugged your clothes back down.

“I think you should stay over tonight.” He concluded, putting the first aid kit back in the general area it had been in. You drowsily agreed, your eyelids already drooping. Neither of you were eager to get back to your boyfriend.

Ex-boyfriend, you decided, telling Percy as such. You’d put up with him for way too long. You would break up with him officially the next day, and tell him to pack everything up and get the hell out of your apartment and out of your life. A weight lifted off your chest at the thought, the pressure that had been built up over two years suddenly dissipating.

When you snapped out of your thoughts, Percy had started to make his way out of his room, muttering something about sleeping on the couch. Before he could get a hand on the door, you caught his sleeve and gently pulled him back to you. You didn’t want to be alone after the night you’d had. And, to be a bit more honest, you wanted to be around him. You wanted him to stay.

“Or… you could just sleep with me.”

Percy’s face turned bright red and you realized how that sounded, sputtering out a few sentences of ‘literally sleeping together’ and ‘didn’t mean it like that’ before giving up and just pulling him down next to you. The two of you got settled under the sheets on opposite ends, which didn’t really do much because Percy’s bed had a single-size mattress. Eventually, though, the two of you moved into a cuddling position to avoid dangling off the sides.

“You don’t mind?” You asked, snuggling closer to him and making his heart skip one or two beats. “Me staying over, I mean.”

“I couldn’t sleep anyway, so you can’t really make it any worse. I think you’re helping, actually,” he replied. “So no, I don’t.” He felt you nod slightly.

“Thanks for everything.” You whispered, hugging him tight. He couldn’t see your face, but he knew by the way your arms slackened and your breathing evened out that you drifted off immediately after.

That was when it hit him.

He was in bed.

With a girl.

And not just any girl, either.

He was in the same bed as you, his best friend, who he had been holding back feelings for, for as long as he’d known you. And you were cuddled up to him, the way all those couples that died really early in all the scary movies his mom loved to watch. It made his heart beat a little faster. A lot faster, actually.

The couple part, that is, not the dying early part.

No, no, no, no. No. This was not the time. If he were to tell you how he felt about you, he would wait until you were healed, mentally and physically.

He hoped that day would come sooner rather than later. He’d help you get there if you’d let him.

His eyelids slowly got heavier and heavier until they closed completely. He hoped his mom wouldn’t be too surprised and scream when she walked in her son’s room and found that you had just magically appeared in his bed.

“For the record,” he murmured, finally feeling the clutches of sleep dragging him down into the abyss. “You deserve so much better. You deserve the world…”

I’d give you mine, if you want, he wanted to add, but those words could wait until another day.

[omni-present-god-send]

Crack-fic 2 Electric Boogaloo

Ok wow, that last fic got some attention. Even the original creator of the AU I was writing about liked it. Wtf. So, um, here's another one! Based on @lets-try-some-writing 's Mr. Pax Au. Yes, I'm bothering you again.

Basically: Prom is coming up and the kids want Optimus to be there. He's flattered. Then cons show up. Destruction.

~

It was odd to have your favorite teacher also be an alien robot. At least Miko made money because of it. Jack and Raf are still mad that she, of all people, called it. There were many advantages though. Easy access to tutoring. Free rides. A shoulder to cry on.

The three of them even helped Optimus with his human disguise! If only to help with the Uncanny Valley he would give them sometimes. His hair was messier now, and he finally got something close to a wardrobe. However, there were some things they couldn't control. Like the way his eyes would get this subtle glow when he got angry or was concentrating. The way his holoform would appear to stop breathing for an extended period of time. Or when we would sing, it was hard to describe, but an almost invisible sound could be heard. Like a bell in the back of your mind. The three of them would soon learn that it was because Optimus, and the other bots in general, could produce sounds just outside of what the human ear could hear clearly.

As the months went by, Mr. Pax would be the best teacher any of them had ever had. Then he would drive them to base and be Optimus. The best dad on this, or any other, planet. It was the best of both worlds!

Sure they had to deal with the Vice-Principal. Trying to get Mr. Pax fired for being a better History teacher in one year than he had been in 15. Vince who, no matter how much Mr. Pax intervened, always went out of his way to make someone miserable. Whether it was Jack or some other poor soul. On top of getting shot at, blown up, stalked, and kidnapped by Decepticons. A break is always welcomed.

Which is how we got here. Miko borrowing Raf's laptop to look at some very sparkly dresses at the base while the boys went to grab some food. Very out of character for the little punk and Optimus noticed immediately. It didn't take more than a few minutes for Optimus to go into the back and for Mr. Pax to emerge out of the dark hallways.

Mr. Pax walked up the stairs and towards the couch where Miko was. She looked very puzzled as she scrolled through the array of dresses on the screen. "You hardly ever even consider that type of fashion Miko. Is everything alright?" Mr. Pax questioned. Miko's head shot up. Clearly not expecting him. "Oh, hey boss. Yeah, everything's fine. Just looking at Prom dresses. My parents are insisting I go." She rolled her eyes and went back to scrolling. "I heard some of the other teachers talking about that. What is 'Prom'?" Mr. Pax inquired.

"Basically is an over-hyped party for seniors to dress up and take pictures with their dates," Miko explained. Mr. Pax hummed. "I hope you have fun regardless." He smiled. Miko gave a laugh and waved him away. Instead of leaving, Mr. Pax took a seat next to her on the couch. "How about we look together? Maybe we can find something you like. Or at the very least something you can edit to fit your style." How could Miko refuse? It wasn't every day she got 1-on-1 time with Best Dad!

Hours passed with them just...looking at dresses. Short ones, long ones, ugly ones, expensive ones. Till, finally, they found it. A knee-length, off-shoulder, black cocktail dress. With a silver detail on the waist. It was a decent price, and Miko could already see every edit that could be done to make it hers. SHe gave Mr. Pax a tight hug before writing down the link to go back to later. Once she got home and back to her own computer that is.

Mr. Pax repeated the process with Jack and, suprisingly, Raf. He thought nothing of it. He was helping his kids students pick out some decent clothes for an importent event. It was the least he could do. Esspecailly with the war dragging them into places and senarios they had no buisness being in.

Before they knew it, Prom was right around the cornor. Mr. Pax was in his classroom grading some papers for the math teacher. When a knock at his door brought him out of his trance. It was Ms. Summer. The science teacher. He opened the door.

"Hello Ms. Summer, can I help you?"

"Yes. You see Mr. Pax, I have a date next weekend." "That's great!" "It is... except I suck at scheduling and our date is at the same time as Prom. I was wondering if you could chaperone in my place?"

Mr. Pax was taken aback. He was not expecting this. "Um... sure. Why not? I don't have a lot going on anyway." He chuckled. Ms. Summer gave him a big smile. "Oh thank you, Mr. Pax! You have no idea how much this helps!" Ms. Summer exclaimed.

Back at base later that day, the children were all talking about their prom plans. "I have some money for bowling if you guys are interested." Jack offered. "Bowling sounds nice," Raf replied. Optimus glances over at the children, trying to hide a smile. He failed. "Hey Boss, you're gonna be there. Right?" Miko suddenly asks. Optimus, now very confused, turns to her. "You...want me at Prom with you all?" The three of them looked at him like he was stupid. In that moment, he was. "Of course, we want you there! You're our favorite!" Raf's words sent warmth through Optimus's spark. He smiled "Then you will be happy to know that Ms. Summer has asked me to chaperone Prom in her wake." Immediately the children started hopping and cheering. "Just because Prom is coming up doesn't mean you all get to skip out on Homework. Miko." She gave him a look of fake offence, before laughing and returning to celebrating with Jack and Raf. Optimus gave a small chuckle and went back to his duties.

Before they knew it, Prom was here. Mr. Pax stood near the door to the building. Glad in a, rather beautiful , black suit. Red flower details covered the suit jacket from top to bottom. Even the tie had red flowers on it! Making it look a lot more expensive then it was. Being a hologram and all.

Prom went, surprisingly, well. The children had fun. Their classmates had enthusiastic reactions to Mr. Pax being there. Except Vince. For obvious reasons. Miko had taken the dress and added spikes, pink and green mesh, and had taken a knife to the skirt. While Jack and Raf were in a blue and yellow suit, respectively.

That was, until Prom got raided by US soldiers. They evacuated everyone from the building. As Mr. Pax was dragged outside by a soldier, he saw what caused the commotion. Even from a distance he could tell they were Deceptions. Three of them. Flying straight toward him. Threatening his students.

He tried to calm down. He really did. He helped get his students to safety. He got as many personal items as he could carry. Nearly punched a soldier. Nearly. He held himself back don’t worry. Blasts of Energon rained down on the building. Chunks fell off. Rubble caught fire. A couple light fixtures exploded.

As the last of his students was taken away by soldiers. Optimus finally let himself take out his anger. Returning to his bi-pedal form, he fired three shots. Each one took out a wing on each con. As the Cons fell from the sky Optimus grabbed them. With the strength of a thousand suns he, as Miko would describe, cracked them like glow sticks. Then threw each one toward the horizon.

When the cons returned they looked like they had been through Kaon. Shaking and rattling like newsparks. As they relaid the story Megatron could feel his spark freeze. Optimus did this? When did he get so violent? Even Soundwave shivered at the story.

Back at the Autobot base, Optimus held Raf, Jack, and Miko close to his spark. Literally. He refused to set them down for longer then necessary. They were still in their, now destroyed, prom clothes. Shaking and crying. Though you didn’t hear that from me. Eventually the day caught up to the and they fell asleep, still in Optimus’s hand. Going into his room, he layed there. His kids sleeping on his chest, close to his spark.