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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Wei Wuxian/Lan Xichen? Arranged marriage could be fun, but really any take you might have on them.

ao3

“Did you do something to irritate your uncle, too?” Wei Wuxian asked.

Lan Xichen finishes writing, then puts his brush down before looking back at the guest disciple from the Jiang sect. “I don’t think so,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

Wei Wuxian was lying on his back and tossing a rolled-up ball of paper up and down instead of copying the rules the way he was supposed to, but Lan Xichen didn’t scold him – the rules would be copied eventually, or they wouldn’t be. If Wei Wuxian wasn’t minded to do his work, would scolding help?

It'd only been a little while, but Lan Xichen felt that he already knew him well enough to know that it wouldn’t.

“I mean, copying rules was supposed to be my punishment,” Wei Wuxian said. “But you’re his prized student, the First Jade of Lan. Why are you stuck here supervising me?”

Lan Xichen smiled. “By all rights, the task should belong to my brother,” he explained. “He runs the discipline hall in normal times. But Wangji chose to remain in secluded cultivation rather than attend classes this season, so I have taken his place.”

Wei Wuxian pursed his lips, clearly thinking it over.

“It’s a pity,” Lan Xichen added. “I think he might have liked you.”

Rather, more accurately, he thought Wei Wuxian’s incessant teasing might have gotten under Lan Wangji’s skin – at times he feared that his brother, in his pursuit of cultivation, was growing too serious, too soon. It would do him well to spend time with those his own age, especially someone as light-hearted, witty, and clever as Wei Wuxian.

“Hey, Lan-gongzi.”

“Mm?”

Wei Wuxian had rolled over onto his stomach and was staring at Lan Xichen, who smiled helplessly back, expecting another prank. Instead, Wei Wuxian asked, “Is there really no one else in the Lan sect who can supervise punishments?”

“What,” Lan Xichen said, “am I not suitable to your eyes?”

“You’re too suitable! You’re the heir of the Lan sect, a perfect gentleman – how can you waste your time copying rules for your uncle’s lectures?”

Lan Xichen chuckled. “My uncle’s lectures are a treasure,” he said. “He teaches not only good conduct, but insight into the world and to the path each person must follow – do you know why they praise him to the skies as a teacher?”

Wei Wuxian blinked.

“He can help students apply the precepts handed down from our ancestors to their own lives, shaping them to match their own philosophies – it’s like encountering a treasure trove with a thousand gleaming gems, and if you only listen earnestly and whole-heartedly, you can claim one as your own. Putting aside exercising and improving your moral sense, the insights you will gain will tremendously speed your cultivation; in the end, you will be qualified to be a real gentleman by the cultivation world’s terms.”

“Why didn’t anyone say so?” Wei Wuxian demanded, sitting up straight. “I’ve been sitting here doing nothing –”

“If you want to waste your opportunity to obtain a beneficial education, there’s nothing anyone else can do about it.”

“You’re very frustrating, and very persuasive,” Wei Wuxian informed him, but he was already smiling. “I think I like you!”

“I’m honored.”

“All right, all right, so I’m convinced. How many more do I need to copy?”

He flicked his fingers and formed talismans: a half-dozen brushes rose up in unison, ready to paint.

Lan Xichen laughed in delight.

“His path is evil,” Lan Wangji said. His voice was level as always, unmoved even by the atrocities of the war; the people said that it was as if he had wholly left the world behind, and kept only righteousness in his heart – with no space for love or empathy.

Sometimes, Lan Xichen thought they might be right.

“His motivation is good,” he said tiredly. “Didn’t you spend time with him before? In the cave, with the Xuanwu…”

“We cooperated, and succeeded in escaping together,” Lan Wangji said coolly. “It is that experience that shows me what Wei Wuxian is capable of – and that his current path of cultivation is a matter of choice.”

Lan Xichen shook his head. “He’s fighting the Wen sect. Without him, we would be much worse off; that doesn’t seem to me to be evil.”

“Brother, I know you spent a long time looking for him alongside Sect Leader Jiang. Do not let that commitment, and your fondness for him, blind you to the truth. He could fight alongside us as a righteous cultivator, and he has instead turned to demonic cultivation. Are we to accept evil if the end results are good?”

“I do not believe he is evil,” Lan Xichen said, and then, shamefully, added, “That is my decision, Wangji. Are you questioning your sect leader?”

Lan Wangji raised his hands and saluted deeply, not even bothering to send Lan Xichen a look of judgment for playing that card. “You will need to decide what is more important,” he said. “In time.”

Lan Xichen knew that.

He shook his head a second time, this time to himself, for his foolishness. Lan Wangji was right: he would need to eventually decide between righteousness and victory, between the orthodoxy of the cultivation world and –

Love.

Unrequited love, no less.

Wei Wuxian’s fierce repulsion of Lan Xichen’s attempts to help had made that clear enough.

And yet…

He would go to look for Wei Wuxian, Lan Xichen decided, and laughed bitterly at his own foolishness. In an ideal world, he would invite him to come back to Gusu to refresh himself – to rest, to recuperate, to remember why the orthodox path was the right one. But harsh experience had shown him that the Cloud Recesses were not safe – that no one would be safe until the Wen sect was gone.

Even if it meant resorting to demonic cultivation.

Inviting Wei Wuxian back would have to wait. All Lan Xichen could do now was fight alongside him.

“You seem unhappy, Xichen,” Nie Mingjue said apropos of nothing, and Jin Guangyao looked up from where he was practicing playing the Song of Clarity, surprised. He looked even more surprised when Lan Xichen nodded, acknowledging the comment as truth.

“Are you really, er-ge?” he asked, putting aside his guqin. “Why didn’t you say?”

“You’ve met him,” Nie Mingjue said before Lan Xichen could respond. “Would he ever say?”

Jin Guangyao considered the point, then nodded.

Lan Xichen smiled. “You are both good friends,” he said. “I am blessed in my friends.”

“In your brothers,” Nie Mingjue said, and Lan Xichen couldn’t help but flinch. “Trouble with Wangji?”

“No, Wangji is perfect.” As always. “He merely reminds me of – an old disagreement of ours.”

“About what?” Jin Guangyao asked. “Is it something we could help with?”

Lan Xichen shook his head. “I don’t think anything could help.”

“Is this about Wei Wuxian?” Nie Mingjue asked, and this time it was Lan Xichen who turned to stare at him in surprise. “What?”

“You – know?”

“Know what?” Jin Guangyao asked, looking concerned and – well, a little irritated, in truth. Probably because Nie Mingjue had figured out something even he didn’t know, which wasn’t something that happened very often. “Er-ge, what is da-ge talking about?”

“Xichen has a crush on Wei Wuxian,” Nie Mingjue told Jin Guangyao, straightforward and blunt as always, and Lan Xichen put his head into his hands.

“How do you even know that?” he said, voice muffled through his palms. “We barely interacted during the Sunshot Campaign, you wouldn’t have even seen it…”

“Huaisang told me. He saw you during his time at the Cloud Recesses; he said you seemed very happy, then. And with Wei Wuxian now an exile from the cultivation world…”

“I just don’t understand why he did what he did,” Lan Xichen said. “He’s always been – I believe in him. He’s a good man. But he insists on continuing his demonic cultivation, he stole away the Wen sect and ran to Yiling…” He shook his head. “Perhaps my family is merely doomed to tragedy in love.”

He was trying to speak lightly, but for some reason that made both of his sworn brothers frown and look at each other, silent communication passing between them as if like lightning – and that was rare, too. The last time he’d seen that had been before Jin Guangyao had left for Langya.

“I don’t like the idea of er-ge being unhappy,” Jin Guangyao said abruptly. “Er-ge deserves the world. What’s one Wei Wuxian?”

“I agree,” Nie Mingjue said. “He might have been ejected from the Jiang sect, but that just makes him a rogue cultivator – and other than stealing the Wen sect remnants, he hasn’t done anything in nearly a year, hasn’t he? He just lives peacefully.”

“Growing radishes,” Lan Xichen put in, and shrugged when they looked at him. “I went to visit him…I thought someone should tell him about his shjie’s engagement.”

“You went to visit him,” Nie Mingjue said, as if that was significant. “In Yiling. I see.”

Jin Guangyao was nodding as if Nie Mingjue had said something profound.

It was a bit like the days before Langya, when Jin Guangyao was Nie Mingjue’s right hand man, his trusted deputy, and between them they planned out battle and aftermath alike, strategy and tactics.

Lan Xichen looked between the two of them and suddenly was struck with a bad feeling.

“No, wait,” he said. “You can’t – he doesn’t even like me!”

“Nonsense,” Jin Guangyao said. “Who doesn’t like our er-ge?”

“I’m incredibly sorry about this,” Lan Xichen said to Wei Wuxian, who looked dazed. “I didn’t think they’d go this far just because I liked you. You shouldn’t have to marry me to bring your Wen sect back into the world – in fact, I’m not going to allow it! I’ll fight for their ability to live freely without any such ridiculous conditions, I promise. Am I not a sect leader in my own right? I will –“

“Wait,” Wei Wuxian said. “You like me? As in –” He mimed cutting his sleeve. “Like me?”

“Yes, and you don’t like me in return, I know,” Lan Xichen said. “You should feel no obligation whatsoever. As I said, I will –”

“Doesn’t your brother want to kill me?”

It was quite possible Lan Wangji wanted to kill Wei Wuxian.

“I wouldn’t let him,” Lan Xichen said. That seemed more relevant.

“You don’t mind my demonic cultivation?”

“I mean, I prefer orthodoxy, of course, but it seems clear enough to me that your intentions are good. As long as you remain restrained and disciplined – and I know you have the capability to do so – then I don’t see why –”

“When are we getting married?” Wei Wuxian asked. “And can I invite Jiang Cheng, and shijie?”

“You misunderstand,” Lan Xichen said. “You don’t have to –“

He stopped speaking for a few moments.

A little later he cleared his throat and said, “Ah. I see.”

Wei Wuxian grinned at him.

#mdzs #lan xichen #wei wuxian #lan wangji #nie mingjue #jin guangyao #my fic #my fics

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alatismeni-theitsa · 3 years

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Hi! Hope you're doing well <3 I been reading some of your posts about LO and Greek culture in general! And as a non-greek I think your culture is amazing and it should be respected as any other culture, so, I had this question a little while ago

I made a couple of characters based on greek myth creatures, and I kinda had a story for them in an ancient greek inspired world (highly inspired tbh, I think it might take place in an ancient greek ambience as well), but now I think that might be insensitive (?) I don't know how to express it, but I just want to know, would it be ok if I continue with that idea or should I scratch it?

TIIIME TO FINALLY ANSWER THIS

I am really sorry for the long wait! I was trying to think how to answer this properly and also mustering the energy for it xD I will pin it so you can find it more easily, if you come back to the blog.

For starters, you can write whatever you wish. I am hesitant to say to people “you can't write this and that” because it might make people feel estranged and uncomfortable and I believe that distance serves no real purpose. Yes, it’s likely that a xenos won’t be making the story VERY culturally accurate but if the story is 30% culturally accurate as opposed to barely 5% which we see in the popular media today, then it’s still a win. Not to mention that Greeks themselves are not 100% culturally accurate most of the time in their Greek mythology stories. This happens because 1) Americanization has hit us hard 2) They write them just for fun without bothering to research much. We are also lucky if we have a 30% accuracy in our texts most of the time.

(I love percentages if you can’t tell 😂)

You might have figured out I have the tag #writing (and perhaps also #writing advice ??) where I answer these type of questions, so visiting it might help! I'm not gonna tell you if you can write it or not - you can write whatever you like - but I would advise you to treat the Greek culture like any other real or fictional culture. Do a proper “worldbuilding”, let’s say.

THE CREATURES

As you know, some are more serious and some are more playful. They don’t easily “switch” from their behaviors so it’s best to keep a serious creature serious and a playful creature playful throughout most of the story. Some reading is needed, to figure out how the ancient Greeks saw those creatures. Because assumptions are usually not helpful. If we have no clues about their behavior, that’s free real estate I guess 😂

Now, if you are going for the “almost like Greek culture but not quite” thing, that still needs similar studying. You need to know where you are basing those creatures and how they see their world - or how the world sees them. And what elements make sense to change.

You can still not base the characters nowhere and just have a gal with snakes in her head. You can do that xD However, if you like to be more in touch with the culture you need to use some context and the “ambience” you talked about. It’s another thing to say “this gal has snakes on her head“ and another to say “this is THE Medusa“.

Some Greek culture needs to shine through. I mean, it would be great if it could shine though in general, so your references and basis to Greek mythology are better. It would be safe to assume the ancient folklore creatures have some Greek culture in them since they have Greek names, they have been written in Greek stories behaving according to the Greek societal rules and ethics, and generally being symbols in Greece until our days. And your story is about Greek mythology, so you want to emphasize the Greek aspects of your heroes and world.

THE ANCIENT GREEK INSPIRED WORLD

I don't know what research you’ve done so far but I will begin from the basics anyways. Ancient Greek ambience, as you can probably guess, is not “chitons, wine, vines and white pillars” 😂 The ambience specifically doesn’t come from the aesthetics but from the feel of it - the food, the customs, the symbols, the dances, the language interjections, the behaviors and values. Parts of the culture are also how is reverence and modesty are expressed, what makes someone present “manly“ or “feminine”. So, it’s gonna take some research.

People usually write some of the aesthetic and think they are covered, even though their worldbuilding is bad, precisely because they have only presented the very top of the iceberg. No food, no dances, no certain behaviors, nothing. You could say they are “soulless Disney remakes”. 😂 You can also do that, but you need to know how it will come out. It might be quite bland and, if I am not mistaken, you said you want to avoid that. (And I think most of Greeks would tell you that they don’t mind a Greek “soulless” remake but it would be super extra great if you put cultural elements in).

Ok, I don’t mean make it like an encyclopedia, but presenting some stuff from the culture is how you get the ambience. You might as well take a writing advice list for worlbuilding stuff you must have and see which ones you can find irl from the Greek culture.

Important! Remember that nearby cultures affect each other, so if you change one element from the Greek culture it’s likely it has to be changed in other cultures next to your area. If wearing green makes you manly in Imaginary Greece, it will also make you manly in Imaginary Turkey and Imaginary Bulgaria, let’s say. (there is no “ancient Turkey” or “ancient Bulgaria” as countries - and depending on the era, “ancient Greece” is also not a thing - but you get my point xD)

For the interpersonal relationships/interactions, you can read some ancient translated texts presenting daily life situations of the ancient Greeks (start from Googling stuff, I really don’t have sources for that xD). It’s very likely that the ancient sources won’t give you a very defined feel (try it anyways, if you like). Therefore, I suggest you see interactions of modern Greek people.

Worry not! YouTube - through me xD - has you covered! Searching the tags #greek tv #greek youtuber #greek podcast and #video. On youtube you can even find vlogs of people visiting Greece and see interactions with the locals. (If you have trouble finding them, you can send me another ask).

Similarly, it might take months to find all the Greek language interjections so you can go for modern ones. Besides, many interjections like “popoo“ are ancient. Besides, if you are not making a very “serious” story, the modern touches might help it feel more in touch with the present.

Surely, people are people everywhere and humans between countries share cultural traits, but there are some slightly more predominant stuff depending on the culture. Cultures close to each other share more traits, so, if you can’t find any Greeks around, you might be able to find our neighbors. Middle Eastern, north African, or south European people (and Hispanic/Latino Americans!) around might help to understand the dynamics between friends and family members. If you already belong to some of those cultures, congrats, you have most of the formula figured out!

I gave so much space to the interpersonal relationships because that’s gonna give you an idea where the line of “respect” is. Surely, the ancient interpersonal relationships won’t be like the modern American ones 😂 There is no way a student goes to Chiron being like “hey, man, how you doin?” Knowing how Greek teachers were, as late as the 20th century, that’s gonna earn him a slap 😂

Another thing: saying “Good morning” and “good afternoon / goodnight” when you first and last see people in the day is VERY important and the best social practice! You won’t be considered rude if you don’t say them but in a slightly formal and especially professional environment, better use them. (Other modern Europeans also consider this a good practice.)

The most ancient greeting of Greeks is “be happy” (χάιρε / χαίρετε) but health is also very important and is another old greeting. Xάιρετε is more formal in our days and Γεια/Γεια σας ("have good health”) is the most used formal and informal one. Seeing how people wish health in the middle east, it might be that the Health thing has been here for centuries. Also, if you break something or something bad happens to you, we say “health” because having your health is more important than anything else.

Fun fact, “Charon“ (Χάρων) probably means “the happy one” :P It has the same root with (χάιρε / χαίρετε).

Many other social cues can be found in the tags I mentioned, but you can send me an ask if you need to know something more specific!

As for the food, you can find ancient recipes and even use modern ones (which are usually with the same ingredients). Same goes for dances and symbols. You can google stuff about them, go on Google Scholar and search there, as well. (Also, google pages where you can download those papers for free ;) ) Please do some cross examination to make sure that this element indeed exists and it’s not just one person pulling it our of their a**. 😂

If you can’t find info, you can lean on modern symbols and dances. The dances are similar through the centuries anyways. No one is going to come for you if you say you based an element on a modern Greek thing bc the ancient one was impossible to find with the resources available to you.

I don’t have many more things to add on these cultural elements because I already have tags for the modern ones. #greek cuisine #melomakarona #greek dance #greek custom #greek tradition etc.

And, last but not least, research the weather!! I can't stress this enough 😩 We are not a desert and we are not the Tropics. If your weather is similar to the Greek one, then your creatures most likely will need some serious covering in Autumn and Winter 😂

All in all, it’s certainly not a piece of cake to write about other countries and cultures but, if they are open to let you in, you can learn stuff and do your best depicting them. It might not be perfect (and no work is actually perfect) but it would be a step to the right direction and might encourage more writers to do the same - instead of throwing some chitons in and calling it a day xD

If you have any other questions feel free to send me another message (dm or ask). You - or anyone else - REALLY WON’T BOTHER ME if you ask me many questions on my DMs or here.

#writing #answered #retelling #greek myhtology #excuse my tags i am just making this post easier to find #writing advice

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dornish-queen · 4 years

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Pedro Pascal - La Vanguardia

With Javier Peña's mustache as his hallmark, the 'Narcos' and 'Game of Thrones' actor is filming in Budapest with Nicolas Cage and Paco León

Pascal, cultured, seductive and reflective, repeats as Loewe's ambassador for its Solo Mercurio perfume and is a model for 'Magazine Lifestyle'

SYLVIA MARTI 12/13/2020 06:00

Casual striped jacket, tousled hair, exquisite punctuality, and a room in Budapest. There is something about this man, generous in smiles and answers, great talkative, attractive without clichés. Pedro Pascal, 45 years old and face success. He shot The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent in the Hungarian capital with Nicolas Cage and Paco León, who apparently encouraged the show a lot; We see him without seeing him in the Star Wars universe as a galactic bounty hunter in The Mandalorian and he is Maxwell Lord, the eighties villain of Wonder Woman 1984 , perhaps the only blockbuster that, if nothing goes wrong, will make us happy Christmas.

Session in Budapest The Chilean actor shoots 'The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent' in the Hungarian capital with Nicolas Cage and Paco León

(full article and photos under the cut)

Chilean by birth, his family left the country fleeing the Pinochet dictatorship when he was a baby. Brief passage through Denmark and new life in San Antonio (Texas). Normal when speaking in your mother tongue some words in English slip through. Think before answering a question without losing spontaneity or being afraid of silence. An art.

There is still Javier Peña's mustache, which catapulted him to fame from Narcos , and you can recognize that little point of joyous irony of Prince Oberyn Martell, who almost ended the Mountain in Game of Thrones . Two roles that have opened doors that he has managed to keep safe from slamming doors and have allowed him to skip the toll of stereotyped roles. Today Pascal, well trained in theater and loved by the cameras, can do whatever he wants. Even dedicating a Saturday to star in a fashion shoot and speak exclusively for Lifetsyle Magazine .

"Nobody knows me but everyone thinks they know me," he said when he debuted as the face of Solo Loewe perfume. Introduce yourself with four words.”

I do not define myself only by them, but I am contradictory, faithful, loyal, sensitive and, at times, a bit geek.

What would surprise me about you if you knew him better?

That although I live life and enjoy family, friends and social connections a lot, I have a lonely point. I like having my space and the option of staying a day at home in a relaxed and cocoon plan .

“Even though I live life and really enjoy family, friends and social connections, I have a lonely point.”

With Covid-19, many of us are already a little tired of staying at home ...

Yes, now that I don't have much choice to go out, I'm afraid of not being able to go back to the theater, to a party, to a dinner with many people ... I really regret those times that, instead of going out, I stayed at home.

Which character has left the most impression on you?

I miss Peña, from Narcos . It was my first leading role, the first time I had time to develop the character, create his energy, his style ... They gave me a lot of freedom to shape it, even if it was based on a real person. I was able to work on it, make it my own, create the tone, invent and deepen.

Do you easily get rid of them when filming is over?

When I was younger I was very clear that they had to be left at work, that the character had to be separated from the person. I thought that with age it would get easier and easier but, surprisingly, the opposite happens to me: it gets harder and harder. Energy cannot always be organized the way we would like and I have to admit that I take some of my characters home with me.

Have you incorporated any of their phrases into your life?

Maxwell Lord has a very attractive in Wonder Woman 1984 : "Everything is fine, but it could be better."

Very eighties. Like the one Gordon Gekko said on Wall Street (1987): "If you want a friend, buy yourself a dog." Have we advanced or are we already for the fourth pet?

We have come a long way. I am very inspired by young people, their strength to face in an original way that win, win and win system that reached a monstrous level in the eighties. Today's young people go deeper into the need to respect a planet in which we all live together and the obligation to take care of it.

“Young people inspire me, they deepen the need to respect a planet and the obligation to care for it.”

I see you optimistic ...

I am a realistic and hard-working optimist. My first impression is that the glass is half empty, I have to find arguments to see it half full.

Is it true that you drew the comic strips to interact with them as a method to immerse yourself in your character in 'Wonder Woman 1984'?

I made a book with images from the eighties and sixties, comic book drawings, papers, erasers, colored pencils, markers and vignettes to better understand what it was to be a man of that decade, how his attitude was forged ... It was a way to focus to live up to what Patty (Jenkins, the director) asked for, which was a lot, and not lose sight of it. I'm a horrible cartoonist, but I had to do something practical to study, understand, and develop the character.

What does a script or a role have to have to get their attention?

Sense of humor. Even if it is a drama, a hero, a villain ... Humor immediately hooks me.

A good shield to go through life ...

The best. It is the most important thing to survive.

Do you remember the last time you laughed out loud?

Paco León immediately came to mind. When he's on set, here in Budapest, we are all happier and we laugh a lot. The entire production loves it. It has made filming more fun.

“When Paco León is on set, here in Budapest, we are all happier and we laugh a lot”

What fascinates you most about the Star Wars universe?

Nostalgia, the huge audience it has, the ability to reach so many people. It reflects our childlike imagination without limits. Create more and more worlds with all kinds of people and species. He is capable of casting the universe

What is your definition of success?

Have a healthy relationship with yourself. Nothing matters if you don't love yourself.

What would you have done if you had not succeeded as an actor? Did you have a plan B?

No. Perhaps the only thing that could have been useful to others is acting as a literature teacher, as a counselor or advisor for people who need help ... I am a bit of a therapist with my friends. And it must work, because they come back. I have a lot of common sense.

What is elegance to you? Has your relationship with Loewe influenced the way you dress?

In that of elegance I am a student, I am learning. I wear what is comfortable but I also have very finite taste and, when motivated, I really like to express myself with style. And when it comes to style, Loewe is on top of everything.

Something material that would save from a fire.

A book. I always have one on hand. Now I am rereading The Magic Mountain , by Thomas Mann. Literature is one of my passions. It is an extension of life. The problem would be to choose only one, there are so many! My identity is made by inspirations from authors, actors, dancers, the art world, the sea ... There is no self without the influence of all the things that inspire me.

“The sea is what I like the most in life. I have respect, curiosity and love for him on a religious level.”

The sea…

It's what I like the most in life. I have respect, curiosity and love for him on a religious level.

If he gets lost, I know where to look for him.

On a boat in the middle of the sea, on an island, on the beach in Chile ... Everything related to water. One of the first smells I remember, although I don't know if it's too attractive, is the chlorine in the pool.

What is your fastest way to disconnect?

Losing your mobile phone. I fell down the stairs in Dubrovnik and at first it was like, "Oh noooo." But then I thought, "Well, a week without him." I had a certain feeling of liberation. Not having to be aware of e-mails, messages ... I find it very strong that people communicate even through a direct message from Instagram. I refuse.

Now that you quote them, how are you getting along with the networks? (He has 1.5 million followers on Intagram)

I am quite active, I use it when I have a good time, but also to express myself and to give my opinion.

“I will say goodbye to the year with a kiss and raising the middle finger. He has treated me well but the collective suffering and fear this year….”

What is your favorite word?

Oxymoron. I like its meaning and its sound

Who would you like to shut up, as you did in the first Loewe Solo ad?

Personally, I would love to shut up that heavy, bad voice, the imp that we all have in our heads. That it's nice to have him and that, and I know he will never go away, but it would be nice if he shut up sometimes. Collectively I think we would all like to shut up one person.

Trump?

I suppose.

What have you learned from this rare year?

That you cannot live without human contact. For me the deep and simple connections with my friends and family is the only thing that matters.

How will you fire him?

With a kiss and raising the middle finger. He has treated me very well but the collective suffering and fear this year….

*article translated with google chrome. Source of article*

#Pedro Pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #la vanguardia #magazine article #article #magazine lifestyle #maxwell lord #ww84 #the mandalorian #din djarin #lavanguardia.com

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politalysis · 3 years

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# What has happened to JK Rowling?

Growing up in the early 2000s immediately made Harry Potter a huge part of your childhood. Even if you never read the books or watched the films, you can probably name the three main characters. Even if you weren’t interested in Harry Potter in the slightest, you probably know your Hogwarts house. It’s incredible what Harry Potter did for our generation all over the world. Children would stay up on their eleventh birthdays anxiously awaiting a Hogwarts acceptance letter, knowing full well that owl was never going to come. Our imagination kept the dream of going to Hogwarts and learning magic alive anyway. Even now at the age of 23, I can for the most part keep a conversation flowing with anyone who has read the books or even just watched the films. You could even go as far as to say it was our generation’s Lord of the Rings.

JK Rowling came from very humble beginnings. She suffered with depression in her childhood and early teens, and lost her mother to multiple sclerosis in 1990. These struggles inspired her a lot when writing Harry Potter. She channeled her grief and pain into her writing. In 1992, she married a man she had met whilst living in Portugal, but Rowling suffered domestic abuse at his hands and the couple separated a year later. She lost her job and moved to Edinburgh in Scotland, where she had to sign up for welfare benefits, which left her a poor and depressed single mother spending her time writing in coffee shops. When she finished writing Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, twelve publishers rejected the opportunity to publish the book. Once someone finally agreed to publish the book, it became the best selling children’s book of the year.

We all know how the story goes from there. Rowling wrote six more Harry Potter books, eight films were made, and Rowling went from a poor vulnerable single mother to a multi millionaire in the space of a few short years. Harry Potter is now a global brand estimated to be worth about $15 billion. The last four books have each consecutively set the record for the fastest selling book in history. Rowling is now the richest author in the world, with a net worth of $92 million. But as well as money, JK Rowling has over 14 million followers on Twitter. This gives her massive influence as well as money. Rowling seemed to initially use this influence for good, spreading mental health awareness, LGBT inclusivity, interacting with fans and creating a website for all us Harry Potter fans to determine our houses and let our wands choose us.

I remember being 8 years old when Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince was released, and I was attending a religious school where some parents complained and called to ban Harry Potter over the controversial decision JK Rowling made regarding Dumbledore’s sexuality. Rowling had made the claim that Dumbledore was gay. Looking back, the controversy was ridiculous and I can only imagine how embarrassed some of those parents must be. I also remember as I got older, re-reading Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows I noticed more that the emotion behind Dumbledore’s relationship with Grindelwald was one he held with a romantic love. So years later, when several members of the LGBT community attacked Rowling for only deciding Dumbledore’s sexuality after the books were written, I publicly defended her with my knowledge that that simply wasn’t true. I had this image of Rowling in my mind, that she had always been on the right side of this debate. She had always been inclusive and supportive of LGBT people as far as I could see, and I just didn’t understand the issue. Rowling had always expressed a centre-left political perspective, and although I didn’t agree with all her views, they seemed relatively uncontroversial.

When Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was released, I hated it. It was a literary disaster, completely disrespectful of the original book series, the characters were a shell of the characters we had grown up with, the plot was almost deliberately ridiculous and overly elaborate and I immediately dismissed it as not canon. I have never forgiven JK Rowling for publicly stating the book was canon. She almost destroyed a whole two decades of her own hard work and the franchise that she’d built that had been like a home for a whole generation. All because she wanted to grab a few extra quid for a terrible book she didn’t even write. To this day I can’t help but wonder if she has even read the book. If I had written the masterpiece that is Harry Potter, I would view the Cursed Child as an insult. Perhaps I’ll even write a review one day, just for fun. Rowling also annoyed me by going back on her story, regretting pairing Ron and Hermione together and not pairing Hermione with Harry. Ron and Hermione are my favourite couple from the story, and their relationship had so much meaning. I couldn’t believe that the author who wrote such a clever and consistent relationship between two beloved characters could ever regret it. At this point in my life, I was beginning to wonder if perhaps Rowling was losing her mind. It was almost like she was trying to destroy her legacy.

As more years passed, the Fantastic Beasts films were released. The first film looked promising, but the second film was yet another disaster. Again, it was inconsistent with the franchise as we knew it, for some reason Hogwarts was full of people wearing 3 piece suits instead of the robes they wore in the Harry Potter series and Minerva McGonigall appeared as a teacher despite the fact that canonically there is no way she could have been old enough. The film was a disaster with both fans and critics hating it. Amongst this mess came controversy in December 2019. Rowling lost all respect she had once held amongst the transgender community when she made a public statement supporting Maya Forstater, a British woman who lost her employment tribunal case against her employer who fired her over transphobic comments. Six months later on June 6 2020, Rowling criticised the term “people who menstruate” and stated: "If sex isn’t real, the lived reality of women globally is erased. I know and love trans people, but erasing the concept of sex removes the ability of many to meaningfully discuss their lives." Rowling’s views on these issues were heavily criticised by GLAAD and even by the actors from the Harry Potter movies including lead actors Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint and Emma Watson.

Rowling published a 3,600 word essay in response to the mass criticism of her views four days later. The essay did her no favours, as she wrote: “When you throw open the doors of bathrooms and changing rooms to any man who believes or feels he’s a woman then you open the door to any and all men who wish to come inside.” She seemed to be suggesting that trans women are often just men disguised as women in order to trick or even harm other women. This obviously angered the transgender community even more, and women’s refuge shelters that allow trans women were reporting no rise in violence as a result, children’s charities that support gender non conforming children were criticising Rowling, she was being made to give back awards and ultimately Rowling was labelled a Trans exclusionary radical feminist, a term often abbreviated to TERF.

JK Rowling is the perfect example of how money and influence can make someone forget their roots so easily. For someone who survived poverty, domestic abuse and sexual assault, she is so lacking in self awareness and how the things she has said and done can be harmful to transgender people. It is widely reported that transgender women are at more risk of harm in female restrooms than cisgender women. With acceptance becoming the norm, transgender people are feeling more safe to come out now than ever before, and so the rise in numbers of the community is huge, especially amongst our generation who grew up with Harry Potter. For a young transgender teenager to grow up wondering how Hogwarts would accommodate them, only to hear the author who gave us Hogwarts in the first place disapprove of equal rights for transgender people, must be very disheartening. However, JK Rowling has proven that she has no idea how powerful the legacy her books created really is. She was tasked with following up the Harry Potter series, and what she gave us was inconsistent and very poorly written screenplays. I have read better sequels on tumblr. Lots of them. Hogwarts doesn’t belong to JK Rowling, it belongs to the fandom. And I’ll be willing to bet my last penny that if Professor McGonigall witnessed any bullying of transgender students in her classroom (or indeed the girls bathroom!) she’d absolutely defend the victim without a moment’s hesitation. Hermione would decorate the Gryffindor common room with little blue, pink and white flags in support of a transgender first year who’d just been sorted into Gryffindor. Luna Lovegood would sit and befriend any trans student who looked lonely, and Ginny would dish out a bat bogey hex to anyone who dared pick on them. No matter what JK Rowling thinks, Hogwarts is not hers to ruin. It is ours. Regardless of what makes us different, Hogwarts is our home.

#jk rowling #harry potter #hogwarts #gryffindor #hufflepuff #ravenclaw #slytherin #gay dumbledore #trans rights #edinburgh #professor umbridge #fuck rowling #cursed child is not canon #ron and hermione #lgbtq #lgbt representation #writing

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bogkeep · 4 years

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hmmmmmmmmmm maybe i’ll write an Introspective Musing Post about my relationship to religion and their depiction in stories because i’ve pondering about this topic lately

so for those who are reading this and DON’T know what’s been going on... there’s this webcomic i fell in love with some years ago, about six years actually, that depicts a post-apocalyptic fantasy/horror adventure set in the nordic countries. it had, and has still, some very uncomfortable flaws regarding racial representation, and the creator has historically not dealt very well with criticism towards it. it’s a whole Thing. my relationship with this comic has fluctuated a lot, since there are a lot of elements in it i DO love and i still feel very nostalgic about, and like idk i felt like i trust my skills in critical thinking enough to keep reading. aaand then the creator went a teensy bit off the deep end created a whole minicomic which is like... a lukewarm social media dystopia where christians are oppressed (and also everyone is a cute bunny, including our lord and saviour jesus christ). which is already tonedeaf enough considering there are religious people who DO get prosecuted for their faith, like, that’s an actual reality for a lot of people - but as far as i can tell, usually not christians. and then there’s an afterword that’s like, “anyway i got recently converted and realized i’m a disgusting human being full of sin who doesn’t deserve redemption but jesus loves me so i’ll be fine!! remember to repent for your sins xoxo” and a bunch of other stuff and IT’S KIND OF REALLY CONCERNING i have, uh, been habitually looking at the reactions to and discussions around this, maybe it’s not very self care of me but there’s a lot of overwhelming things rn and it’s fantastically distracting, yknow? like, overall this situation is fairly reminiscent of the whole jkr thing. creator of a series that is Fairly Beloved, does something hurtful, handles backlash in a weird way, a lot of people start taking distance from Beloved Series or find ways to enjoy it on their own terms, creator later reveals to have been fully radicalized and releases a whole manifesto, and any and all criticism gets framed as harassment and proving them right. of course, one of them is a super rich person with a LOT of media power and a topic that is a lot more destructive in our current zeitgeist, and the other is an independent webcomic creator, so it’s not the same situation. just similar vibez ya feel as a result of this, i have been Thinking. and just this feels like some sort of defeat like god dammit she got me i AM thinking about the topic she wrote about!!! i should dismiss the whole thing!!! but thinking about topics is probably a good thing so hey lets go. me, i’m agnostic. i understand that this is a ‘lazy’ position to take, but it’s what works for me. i simply do not vibe with organized religion, personally. (i had the wikipedia page for ‘chaos magic’ open in a tab for several weeks, if that helps.) i was raised by atheists in a majorly atheist culture. christian atheist, i should specify. norway has been mostly and historically lutheran, and religion has usually been a private and personal thing. it turns out the teacher i had in 7th grade was mormon, but i ONLY found out because he showed up in a tv series discussing religious groups in norway later, and he was honestly one of the best teachers i have ever had - he reignited the whole class’ interest in science, math, and dungeons and dragons. it was a real “wait WHAT” moment for my teenage self. i think i was briefly converted to christianity by my friend when i was like 7, who grew up in a christian family (i visited them a couple times and always forgot they do prayers before dinner. oops!), but like, she ALSO made me believe she was the guardian of a secret magic orb that controls the entire world and if i told anybody the world would burn down in 3 seconds. i only suspected something was off when one day the Orb ran on batteries, and another day the Orb had to be plugged in to charge. in my defense i really wanted to be part of a cool fantasy plot. i had no idea how to be a christian beyond “uuuuh believe in god i guess” so it just faded away on its own. when i met this friend several years later, she was no longer christian. i think every childhood friend of mine who grew up in a christian family, was no longer christian when they grew up. most notably my closest internet friend whose family was catholic - she had several siblings, and each of them took a wildly different path, from hippie treehugger to laveyan satanist or something in that area. (i joined them for a sermon in a church when they visited my town. my phone went off during it because i had forgotten to silence it. oops!) ((i also really liked their mother’s interpretation of purgatory. she explained it as a bath, not fire. i like that.)) i have never had any personal negative experiences with christianity, despite being openly queer/gay/trans. the only time someone has directly told me i’m going to hell was some guy who saw me wearing a hoodie on norway’s constitution day. yeah i still remember that you bastard i’ve sworn to be spiteful about it till the day i die!! i’ve actually had much more insufferable interactions with the obnoxious kind of atheists - like yes yes i agree with you on a lot but that doesn’t diminish your ability to be an absolute hypocrite, it turns out? i remember going to see the movie ‘noah’ with a friend who had recently discovered reddit atheism and it was just really exhausting to discuss it with her. one of these Obnoxious Atheists is my Own Mother. which is a little strange, honestly, because she LOVES visiting churches for the Aesthetic and Architecture. we cannot go anywhere without having to stop by a pretty church to Admire and Explore. I’VE BEEN IN SO MANY CHURCHES FOR AN ATHEIST RAISED NON-CHRISTIAN. i’ve been to the vatican TWICE (i genuinely don’t even know how much of my extended family is christian. up north in the tiny village i come from, i believe my uncle is the churchkeeper, and it’s the only building in the area that did not get burnt down by the the nazis during ww2 - mostly because soldiers needed a place to sleep. still don’t know whether or not said uncle believes or not, because hey, it’s Personal) i think my biggest personal relationship to religion, and christianity specifically, has been academic. yeah, we learned a brief synopsis of world religions at school (and i remember the class used to be called ‘christianity, religion, and ethics’ and got changed to ‘religion, beliefs, and ethics’ which is cool. it was probably a big discourse but i was a teen who didnt care), but also my bachelor degree is in art history, specifically western art history because it’s a vast sprawling topic and they had to distill it as best they could SIGHS. western art history is deeply entangled with the history of the church, and i think the most i’ve ever learnt about christianity is through these classes (one of my professors wrote an article about how jesus can be interpreted as queer which i Deeply Appreciate). i also specifically tried to diversify my academic input by picking classes such as ‘depiction of muslims and jewish people in western medieval art’ and ‘art and religion’ when i was an exchange student in canada, along with 101 classes in anthropology and archaeology. because i think human diversity and culture is very cool and i want to absorb that knowledge as best as i can. i think my exchange semester in canada was the most religiously diverse space have ever been in, to be honest. now as an adult i have more christian friends again, but friends who chose it for themselves, and who practice in ways that sound good and healthy, like a place of solace and community for them. the vast majority of my friends are queer too, yknow?? i’ve known too many people who have seen these identities as fated opposites, but they aren’t, they’re just parts of who people are. it’s like... i genuinely love people having their faiths and beliefs so much. i love people finding that space where they belong and feel safe in. i love people having communities and heritages and connections. i deeply respect and admire opening up that space for faith within any other communities, like... if i’m going to listen to a podcast about scepticism and cults, i am not going to listen to it if it’s just an excuse to bash religion. i think the search for truth needs to be compassionate, always. you can acknowledge that crystals are cool and make people happy AND that multi level marketing schemes are deeply harmful and prey on people in vulnerable situaitons. YOU KNOW???? so now’s when i bring up Apocalypse Comic again. one of the things i really did like about it was, ironically, how it handled religion. in its setting, people have returned to old gods, and their magic drew power from their religion. characters from different regions had different beliefs and sources. in the first arc, they meet the spirit of a lutheran pastor, who ends up helping them with her powers. it was treated as, in the creators own words, ‘just another mythology’. and honestly? i love that. it was one of the nicest depictions i’ve seen of christianity in fiction, and as something that could coexist with other faiths. I Vibe With That. and then, uh, then... bunny dystopia comic. it just... it just straight up tells you christianity is literally the only way to..?? be a good person??? i guess?? i’m still kind of struggling to parse what exactly it wanted to say. the evil social media overlord bird tells you the bible makes you a DANGEROUS FREETHINKER, but the comic also treats rewriting the bible or finding your own way to faith as something,, Bad. The Bible Must Remain Unsullied. Never Criticize The Bible. also, doing good things just for social media clout is bad and selfish. you should do good things so you don’t burn in hell instead. is that the message? it reads a lot like the comic creator already had the idea for the comic, but only got the urge to make it after she was converted and needed to spread the good word. you do you i guess!! i understand that she’s new to this and probably Going Through Something, and this is just a step on her journey. but the absolute self-loathing she described in her afterword... it does not sound good. i’m just some agnostic kid so what do i know, but i do not think that kind of self-flagellating is a kind faith to have for yourself. i might not ever have been properly religious, but you know what i AM familiar with? a brain wired for ocd and intrusive thoughts. for a lot of my life i’ve struggled with my own kind of purity complex. i’ve had this really strange sensitivity for things that felt ‘tainted’. i’ve experienced having to remove more and more words from my vocabulary because they were Bad and i did not want to sully my sentences. it stacked, too - if a word turned out to be an euphemism for something, i could never feel comfortable saying it again. i still struggle a bit with these things, but i have confronted these things within myself. i’ve had to make myself comfortable with imperfection and ‘tainted’ things and accept that these are just, arbitrary categories my mind made up. maybe that’s the reason i can’t do organized religion even if i found one that fit for me - just like diets can trigger disordered eating, i think it would carve some bad brainpaths for me. so yeah i’m worried i guess! i’m worried when people think it’s so good that she finally found the correct faith even if it’s causing all this self-hate. is there really not a better way? or are they just trusting she’ll find it? and yeah it’s none of my concern, it’s like, i worry for jkr too but i do not want her within miles of my trans self thANKS. so like, i DO enjoy media that explores faith and what it means for you. my favourite band is the oh hellos, which DOES draw on faith and the songwriter’s experience with it. because of my religious iliteracy most of it has flown over my head for years and i’m like “oh hey this is gay” and then only later realize it was about god all along Probably. i like what they’ve done with the place. also, stormlight archive - i had NO idea sanderson was mormon, the way he writes his characters, many of whom actively discuss religion and their relationship to it. i love that about the books, honestly. Media That Explores Religion In A Complex And Compassionate Way... we like that i’ve been thinking about my own stories too, and how i might want to explore faith in them. most of my settings are based on magic and it’s like, what role does religion have in a world where gods are real and makes u magic. in sparrow spellcaster’s story, xe creates? summons? an old god - brings them to life out of the idea of them. it’s a story about hubris, mostly. then there’s iphimery, the story where i am actively fleshing out a pantheon. there’s no doubt the gods are real in the fantasy version of iphimery, they are the source of magic and sustain themselves on slivers of humanity in exchange. but in the modern version, where they are mostly forgotten? that’s some room for me to explore, i think. especially the character of timian, who comes from a smaller town and moves to a large and diverse city. in the fantasy story, the guardian deity chooses his sister as a vessel. in the modern setting, that does not happen, and i don’t yet know what does, but i really want timian to be someone who struggles with his identity - his faith, his sexuality, the expectations cast upon him by his hometown... i’m sure it’s a cliché story retold through a million gay characters but i want to do it too okay. i want to see him carve out his own way of existing within the world because i care him and want to see him thrive!!! alrighty i THINK that’s all i wanted to write. thanks if you read all of this, and if you didn’t that’s super cool have a nice day !

#rambles #i wrote this for me and theres no obligation to read it

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mist-chance · 4 years

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JJK Chapter 137

This is going up a bit late, but I wanted to post my thoughts on Chapter 137 before I get around to reading Chapter 138.

This chapter, which reads as Part 1 of the Shibuya Incident Aftermath, is really interesting because it shows what the state of the jujutsu world – and the non-jujutsu world of Japan – is outside of Shibuya. When there’s a lot of action going on, like the kind that’s been happening for the past year or so worth of chapters, it’s easy to get tunnel vision and focus only on the main cast. So it’s nice that we get some context as to what’s happening outside of Shibuya.

1) Dystopia abound.

We already got a hint of how the non-jujutsu world is affected by an influx of cursed spirits during the action part of the Shibuya Incident, within the contained space of the curtain surrounding Shibuya. Now we learn that other locations in Japan are being affected as well: the state of the government is unknown, there are concerns of how Japan’s political and commercial infrastructure will hold up to this massive shift in reality (and how other countries will view and react to these changes), people are evacuating affected cities, and an important question has arisen as a result of the Shibuya Incident – should the non-jujutsu world, the normal world, become aware of the existence of curses?

This question is important, because it seems Fake-Geto (I know the curse user possessing Geto’s body is Kamo Noritoshi the ancestor, but Fake-Geto is easier to use) is dead set on bringing back a world where powerful cursed spirits held the most influence in the world. It’ll be interesting to see whether or not cursed spirits and the jujutsu world at large become common knowledge to non-jujutsu sorcerers, and how the world will change as a result of either one of these decisions.

2) Yuta appears!

This is his first appearance since Volume 0 (the prequel volume). He pretty much looks the same to me, though his face looks a bit more mature and his hair is longer. He’s still awkward around others – even children – though he looks pretty confident when dealing with the elders at Jujutsu Headquarters.

Here, Yuta seems to be gearing up for a rampage/epic beatdown similar to the one in Volume 0, after Geto took down his friends. Yuta’s pretty similar to Gojo in that he has the capability to pull of a deus ex machina during a time of crisis; he can evolve at an extraordinary rate and pull off impossible feats. (Gojo himself has mentioned that Yuta has the potential to become just as strong as him.)

So in JJK there are two god-like characters: Gojo Satoru, the self-proclaimed but probably-really-is the strongest sorcerer in the world, and Okkotsu Yuta, who’s on his way to being as strong as Gojo. The reason the Shibuya Incident had such devastating consequences is because Gojo was sealed away early on, and Yuta was supposedly still out of the country. Making these two god-like characters unavailable allowed for the struggles and losses in this arc to happen, and gave characters like our main trio the opportunity to grow.

What’s interesting in the aftermath of the Shibuya Incident is that we’re still down Gojo, but we’ve gained Yuta. And Yuta seems to be currently under the influence of the elders at Jujutsu Headquarters – or rather, they’re taking advantage of his need for vengeance and Yuta’s letting them manipulate him – whereas Gojo has always opposed their authority. (When Gojo killed Geto, I doubt he did it because the elders issued a kill-order on Geto. He most likely did it because Geto was dangerous, and Gojo knew the only way to stop him was to kill him.)

As of this chapter, the elders seem reluctant to trust Yuta. But for now, they have a Special Grade Sorcerer to do their bidding.

3) The elders at Jujutsu Headquarters and their plan of action.

This chapter again shows how black and white the current authority of the jujutsu world – the elders at Jujutsu Headquarters (I believe they’re all unidentified except for Gakuganji Yoshinobu) – are, and how desperate they are to maintain their conservative, straightforward vision of how the jujutsu world and the non-jujutsu worlds should be.

It’s hard to tell how much information Jujutsu Headquarters is operating on, based on the orders they’ve issues.

Order 1: We know the elders know that Geto is “alive.” However, it’s unclear whether or not they know that Geto isn’t the real Geto, but a curse user possessing his body. In any case, they want him killed again.

Order 2: We know the elders know Gojo is sealed, since originally, during the Shibuya Incident, the order was to free Gojo Satoru. (This may not have been an official Headquarters order; both the College and Kyoto group may’ve only been acting on Mechamaru’s info.)

This new order calls for Gojo’s continued imprisonment. It’s reasonable for the elders to be suspicious of Gojo (someone who’s always opposing their authority) to be Geto’s accomplice – especially since they were best friends – so this order is understandable.

But there’s a fine line between the elders wanting to keep Gojo sealed because they believe he’s a traitor, and wanting to keep him sealed away because it keeps him from interfering with their agenda.

Order 3: This order is absolutely ridiculous, on par with the idea of Absolute Justice in One Piece – the idea or reasoning that, because Geto and Gojo were his students, Yaga is responsible for the decisions they made and continue to make as adults.

The elders didn’t hold this against Yaga when Geto (real Geto) defected and became a curse user. The difference between then and now is that Gojo is being treated as an accomplice to a curse user. So the goal of this order might be to punish Yaga for producing two traitorous students, or his execution is a way to justify Gojo’s continued imprisonment. The reasoning for the latter option, if we consider the dark, manipulative elders route instead of the ignorant, misinformed one, could be that, to justify that Gojo’s crime is bad enough to warrant being sealed for eternity, his former teacher is also culpable, and the only punishment worthy of his crime is death.

Order 4: Reinstating Yuji’s execution order is expected, given Gakuganji’s previous manipulations during the Kyoto Exchange Arc.

Order 5: This order, for Yuta to be Yuji’s executioner, is also expected. Yuta is currently the only Special Grade (who hasn’t gone rogue) to not have a relationship or any interaction with Yuji; and, given Yuta’s desire to keep his friends safe, Yuji already has a point against him for what he did to Inumaki – even if it was technically Sukuna’s fault.

What might happen next?

There are two ways of thinking the elders could be operating under. One, they’re operating on incomplete information (mainly, not knowing Kamo Noritoshi the ancestor is possessing Geto’s body, which could potentially make Orders 2 and 3 void); or two, the elders do have all the information, and they’re trying to keep Gojo sealed away for their own benefit. With Gojo out of the way, the elders have no one (powerful enough, anyways) to oppose their authority, and they can shape both the jujutsu world and the non-jujutsu world as they please.

[Their order of keeping Gojo sealed is probably the one they’ll regret the earliest. It’s stated in one of the earlier chapters that curses grew in strength because a being of Gojo Satoru’s strength was born into the world. Cursed spirits grew stronger simply as a matter of evolution, the prey evolving to better counter the predator that would hunt them down.

And while there are several talented sorcerers still active to fight the sudden influx of powerful cursed spirits, and several sorcerers-in-training who can step up to joint the fight, the Shibuya Incident also took talented sorcerers like Nanami. Gojo was very much a large-scale, heavy-hitter fighter, capable of taking down several curses at once with little effort. Without him around, it’ll be harder for sorcerers to operate. It’ll definitely give Fake-Geto all the time he needs to enact his plans, since the sorcerers will be too busy fighting curses to figure out his endgame.]

Then there’s the question of how much Yuta knows about each order. Like the elders, Yuta is either ignorant of one or more of the orders (as in, he doesn’t know that Gojo is supposed to stay sealed, or that unsealing him is a criminal act; or that Yaga, Panda’s creator/guardian, is slated for execution), or he knows all of the orders and is choosing to ignore the ones that don’t give him permission to take out Yuji. Either mindset could lead to interesting future conflicts, but I think it’s more likely that Yuta doesn’t know all of the orders. Based on my read of him from Volume 0, he isn’t the type to go for extreme measures unless his friends are hurt.

It also looks like Yuta’s goal of executing Yuji can go two ways. Either he tries killing Yuji and ends up fighting Sukuna, or he tries killing Yuji and his friends (mainly Maki and Panda, if Inumaki’s still out of commission) stop him and beat some sense into him. It’s possible, of course, that the feelings of Yuji’s previous allies/friends may have changed over the course of the Shibuya Incident, because of the damage Sukuna caused while fighting Jogo (e.g. Kusakabe. The difference with Kusakabe, though, is that he was indifferent to Yuji’s existence as Sukuna’s host until the mass destruction in Shibuya. He also, to my knowledge, has never met Yuji.)

But that seems doubtful for the second years, since Panda still seems fine with Yuji, and I can’t see Inumaki and Maki disagreeing with him. And even if they aren’t, Yaga’s technically in the same boat as Yuji, and it’s unlikely Panda, Inumaki, and Maki would act against him. If Yaga continues to stick up for Yuji, they would most likely follow his lead. Megumi I’m sure will still be on Yuji’s side, as will Nobara (please, please let her be okay.).

As for Yuji and Yaga... I can’t imagine Yaga trying to run off to avoid execution. He’s more of the type to make a stand. I could see him encouraging Yuji to escape though, and serving as a distraction until Yuji’s escaped far enough.

I’m really excited to see where Chapter 138 will take us!

[Source of all screenshots: VIZ Media]

#Jujutsu Kaisen #JJK #Chapter 137 #Okkotsu Yuta #Manga #Chapter 137 Breakdown #Speculations #My Thoughts

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jace-todd · 3 years

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Slack

@oh-faithful-inner-demons this is totally not about the headcanon you posted a little bit ago, pssh totally not but uhh enjoy anyway~ I tried to use some of your headcanons in this too!! Sorry if it's not that good- I decided to go with the first part of the headcanon, becoming slack in a hug to focus on Aizawa and Hitoshi's relationship as Father-Son but I'm still open to writing a second piece-

Word count: 2,069

You can read it online right here on my Archive

warning for bullying, jumping (as in bullies cornering a student after school hours to beat on them, i'm sorry hitoshi), neglectful parents, abandonment

There were only two people in the whole world who knew how weak Hitoshi was for affection. Affection was never something Hitoshi got a lot of when he was growing up. His parents were firm believers that vulnerability would only aid in you getting soft and getting yourself killed out there in ‘the real world.’ When he was four, not long after his quick manifested, all of the early affection he received to keep childhood development on path disappeared altogether. Maybe every now and then, his mother would ruffle his hair when she’d finish a long shift at the hospital - too tired to even remember her hatred.

At school, without friends, Hitoshi didn’t get to experience friendly hugs. He didn’t have that one friend who’d practically vibrate in their seat when he’d enter the room in the morning, calling out his name with greetings and asking all about his previous afternoon. That one friend didn’t exist so they never pulled him close in between classes, an arm thrown over his shoulders, talking loudly in his ears to combat Hitoshi’s natural silence. That one friend who understood that Hitoshi didn’t feel comfortable talking - not with his quirk as villainous as it was, not with his quirk putting up the risk it did merely by interacting with anyone. That one friend who’d sit next to him at lunch, against a tree, their entire body shoved against his side - completely foreign to something called personal space.

What he got instead were people leaving the seats around HItoshi empty every year, too afraid to go near the kid with the villainous quirk and the absent parents and the snarky personality. They whispered behind his back rumors about how he was the one that leaked the test results two weeks ago, he was the one that made Miyuki punch Kako in the fact yesterday after she hung out with him. The only kind of company and touch Hitoshi received were pushes in the hallways and jumpings behind school. Instead of hair ruffles Hitoshi’s hair would be held tight in a fist to maneuver back to punch him in the face. Instead of hands holding his, feet ground against them until he broke his promise to not show signs of weakness. Instead of hugs, arms kept him from slumping to the ground hit after hit landed.

After a while, Hitoshi stopped expecting to get affection from anyone. It became easier to expect the worst, assume that anyone who got close only wanted to hurt him. Unfortunately, it made Hitoshi’s life easier - knowing the world already wanted to hurt him prepared him for the worst. It prepared him for when his parents up and left two weeks before he started UA - no real explanation, just a final argument between him and his father that ended with Hitoshi silently heading to his room and hiding. When he came out for his work-out the next morning, their rooms were empty and money was left on the counter.

Life really became lonely after that. School was awkward and quiet - coming home to an empty house made it seem even worse. At least when his parents were still around, one of them would be home by the time he got back from school. They wouldn’t greet him but at least Hitoshi knew someone was there. Now though, there were no one to glance in his direction, to eat dinner with, to awkwardly stare at when they found each other in the middle of the night doing their own thing. He had the entire place to himself.

Then Eraser-head started mentoring him. After the Sports festival, being pulled aside during homeroom to talk to his favorite hero had felt like a fever dream. The minute he walked away, Hitoshi pinched his arm three times just to be completely sure that it wasn’t. Starting up training had been learning where Hitoshi’s boundaries were, being taught how to use Aizawa’s - Aizawa, Hitoshi gets to call his favorite hero by his name - original capture device, and figuring out their own dynamic. Every minute kept Hitoshi on his toes, exhausted with lack of sleep and too much working out, but more energetic and happy than he’d been in years.

Their interactions started out as just mentor-mentee. Aizawa was trying Hitoshi to get into the hero course, to get enough strength and control to impress the Board, Hitoshi was learning everything he could from his idol. It was strictly business. And then Aizawa broke first, offering Hitoshi a trip to get some food and water down at a cat cafe, not even two blocks from the school. Hitoshi had flushed, unused to any sort of attention from the hero outside of these training sessions. He had agreed without thinking too much and for the next two hours, Hitoshi found himself pouring out more information about himself than he’d told anyone in his entire life.

Two days later, Hitoshi perfected one of the hardest maneuvers to learn after only a month. Aizawa had given him that weird smiling-but-not-smiling thing of his and reached out. He initially flinched away, expecting the worst but the hand just slowed down. A moment later, it dropped onto his head and ruffled his hair. Hitoshi did not tear up. He didn’t, really. If there was one lesson his father taught him that stuck was that crying meant vulnerability and weakness. However, Hitoshi did feel lightheaded at the sudden affection.

Aizawa ever-observant kept it on his head a moment or two too long before letting go, nodding in the direction of their jungle gym, telling him to get going.

The next couple of months passed pretty much the same. Slowly, Aizawa integrated casual affections into their interactions. Whenever Hitoshi did something well, Aizawa ruffled his hair. When Hitoshi smiled, Aizawa gave it back. Eventually, when Hitoshi started to open up, Aizawa did the same - it was a sign of trust. They were going good - Aizawa and Hitoshi had what he was slightly afraid to call a father-son dynamic, Hitoshi was already admitted into the hero course, Aizawa was getting through physical therapy steadily and surely.

And then Aizawa came into their usual weekend breaks to the cat cafe with a manilla folder. Hitoshi was pressed against the back of the cat cafe, sipping at the strong coffee he had ordered when he arrived, stroking the back of the tabby on his lap, reading the latest comic he got his hands on. When the little ding of the door closing rang out, he lifted his head out of the pages to see who it was. Aizawa lifted a hand in greeting, heading straight to him rather than get his usual strong coffee and retrieval of his favorite cat.

Immediately, Hitoshi felt a pit rise in his stomach. This was it, this was where Aizawa decided Hitoshi wasn’t fit to be in the hero’s life anymore, wasn’t fit to be a hero, that he had come to his senses and Hitoshi would be nothing more than a low-life villain. He stuffed the comic back into his bookbag, careful with it despite the way his hands were starting to shake and he was getting light-headed. “Aizawa-Sensei? Is everything okay?”

Aizawa slid into the seat across from him, “Everything’s fine, Hitoshi. Take a deep breath for me, okay?” He didn’t want to take a deep breath. What he wanted was for Aizawa to just rip the bandage off so he could leave. One of Aizawa’s hands disappeared from view for a moment before coming back with one of the fidget toys he kept around for his kids. In a sign of peace, he put it in the middle of the table and Hitoshi took it, swiftly working it over with practiced ease.

It worked well to calm him down enough to hear what Aizawa wanted to tell him. “What’s in the folder, Sensei?”

The teacher flipped it around so that it was facing Hitoshi before opening it. “See for yourself, kid.” Staring back at Hitoshi in big bold letters were the words ‘Report of Adoption.’ The world stopped as Hitoshi read through it all. His biological parents had been contacted and had signed over custody already, Aizawa and Yamada’s information were nearly completely filled out except for the very last signature, which left only Hitosh’s section empty.

“Are...Are you serious?” He couldn’t look away from the papers, going through them over and over again just to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. Surely, there was his mother’s signature and then his father’s. On the other page, neat Shouta Aizawa stood above Hizashi Yamada.

Aizawa nodded, “I’m completely serious. It’s only logical considering your living arrangements and the multitude of arising issues as you enter the hero course next year. Hitoshi, you deserve to have someone who cares about you and whether you make it home safely or not. Hizashi and I have already spoken it over and we’ve contacted our lawyers. Before we continue anything else, I needed to tell you. Do you consent to being adopted by Hizashi and I?”

Did he consent? Did he consent to being taken in by the hero that kept Hitoshi going his entire childhood? Did he consent from having to leave the one place that was always home to him to move to a brand new location, a brand new layout, a brand new family? Everything between them would change again. He would have to readjust, find himself and where their limits were - surely, they would have rules and strict No’s for him. Maybe they’d regret adopting him not even a week into their legal adoption and then it’d all be for nothing. Maybe Eri would fear him and he’d leave. Not that he’d mind it. Eri and her had interacted plenty of times but he knew he made the little girl uncomfortable.

But Hitoshi wanted it. He wanted it more than he’s ever wanted anything in his entire life. Hitoshi wanted to wake up to Hizashi’s singing in the mirrors as he cooked breakfast. He wanted to wake up to his own cat pressed against his side. He wanted to step out of his room in the morning, dressed for the hero course, and see Eri leaving her own room, smiling up at him while he smiled down. He wanted to be able to walk home with Aizawa after training rather than have to go separate ways every day. Above all else, Hitoshi just wanted to be loved.

“I- I consent.” Aizawa’s smile was toothy and a little lopsided but Hitoshi didn’t really see it past his own tears. He hadn’t cried since he was six and had scraped his knee badly enough to need a hospital trip. This was the biggest thing in his life, the biggest change surpassing the hero course with ease.

The cat had already scurried off, leaving Hitoshi’s hands and lap free once he dropped the fidget toy. He stood up, rounding to Aizawa’s side. The hero stood up as well, and Aizawa reached a hand out to ruffle his hair no doubt. No more did Hitoshi flinch but he didn’t let the hand reach him. Instead, Hitoshi threw himself forward, wrapping his arms tight around Aizawa’s shoulders, tucking his head in the crook of his arm and Aizawa’s neck. Aizawa returned the hug, holding on even tighter than Hitoshi was, one hand on his back and the other curled around purple hair.

He let the emotions and relief finally escape him, completely silent sobs racking his body as he went limp, letting the hero hold his weight for him. Aizawa grunted, planting his feet more strategically before shushing him, “I’ve got you, Hitoshi, you’re safe, you’re okay.”

Aizawa didn’t budge under Hitoshi’s weight - even if the teen was nearly as tall and as heavy as the hero was, steadily starting to surpass him even. For nearly five minutes they stood there, Aizawa supporting both their weights, talking softly to Hitoshi the entire time, telling him to let it out, that he would be there and so would Hizashi no matter what Hitoshi needed. Unfortunately, Aizawa’s straining muscles eventually caused them to both slide to the floor, still gripping each other tight, Hitoshi slack in his arms.

They didn’t need to move anytime soon so Aizawa let the kid remain there. After all, it was about damn time Hitoshi got some well-earned affection.

#shinsou hitoshi #aizawa shouta #hannah's writing

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ayusaurus · 4 years

Text

I’ve been seeing this topic come up way too often on Twitter recently and I just need to vent, but: Can we please stop equating fiction with real life. And I mean that in the sense that fiction, while incorporating elements of reality, does not represent reality as a whole.

I say this because a voice actors recently got harassing and dangerously threatening messages for the work she did on TLOU2.

Like regardless of what your feelings are of the game, she is a paid actress voicing a character. She is NOT the character herself.

I know that fiction can be harmful, I know that it can be used to create things we are uncomfortable or triggered by. But we need to be able to discern reality from fiction because this moral policing and “wokeness” that was pushed by purists within fandoms, winds up hurting actual people. It’s a way to shush people from being able to use fiction as a catharsis when there is no availability of therapy. You threaten to disallow spaces for people to interact with ideas that would be wrong, unsafe, or illegal, in a place where you can do so safely with consent.

There is a reason people tag things. There is a reason blacklists exist. Creators are not responsible for your mental wellbeing outside of tagging things so you can make the personal decision of wanting to consume that product. By putting all blame on creators and media, without having the nuance of rational and critical thinking, you are forcibly removing responsibility from yourself.

I say this because when Columbine happened back in the 00’s (I believe,) people were so quick to point fingers and say video games are to blame because the shooter played video games. But while it MAY have been a cause, what went overlooked was the fact that this kid had things emotionally/mentally that went unaddressed to where he wound up committing a mass shooting. There’s only so far that the excuse of what he consumed can be traveled before the root cause need to be examined.

Like, I myself have played shooter games, and never once have I thought, “lemme go grab a gun and shoot someone.” Never once have I consumed sexual media that was outside of the vanilla realm and thought “man I’d love to do some of this stuff without consent.” I’ve never once saw Spider-Man and thought” I should really break into a train station so I can get bit by a spider and gain its super powers.”

If we keep pointing fingers at the media, compared to addressing the underlying cause of our discomfort, we will never actually make the changes needed to progress forward. We will continue to dumb ourselves down in society because it’s far easier to blame the fictional worlds, universes, alternate realities, than it is to do the hard work of making changes. And if you say we should ban ALL problematic fiction, then you’re setting up a framework which threatens the whole realm of fiction. Because certain topics may be banned today, but eventually down the line, there isn’t any room to wiggle and you find everything is gone. The room to be allowed a voice no longer exists.

Fiction can be a positive place. We all use it to escape reality. We use it to explore things we’ve never had and have wanted, like love, family, friends, wealth, healthy sexual encounters, and all of that is valid. But many people want to use fiction to give their trauma and pain a voice that they maybe never had the strength to voice in their own lives. Some people may want to explore dark themes because understanding why things happen and what causes it leads to a growth in perhaps better attacking real life themes. Some people just want to use fiction just to blow off steam and do things they know is illegal irl and would never do to hurt someone irl.

And yes, there are people who will use fiction to manipulate people, but we need to stop viewing the tool of media as being just as bad and worth locking away as the individual using manipulative tactics in conjunction with media. Because the fictional media is not the problem, the individual who is using that media maliciously to hurt others is.

We also need to do a better job, or I should say parents and teachers need to do a better job in helping kids and students understand where fiction ends. We need to teach kids how to better interact with problematic themes and how to step away from things or blacklist things that make them uncomfortable. Just like if you don’t like the color blue in your own clothes, you don’t buy it, then if you don’t like themes of domestic violence, you don’t consume it.

However I will also add, there is a place for consuming problematic media for the sole purpose of understanding why it’s bad and dissecting the themes which make it bad so we can be better equipped to handle such topics. We have to also understand why it’s so problematic under an educated situation or else we will keep having these back and forth, black and white, no room for debate charged talks of why problematic content shouldn’t be allowed. Additionally, the less we allow problematic content, the more people will be drawn to it, the more people won’t have a safe area to explore those topics, the more likely they will be to hurt others. Like IRL, teen pregnancy was pretty high when I was in HS and that was becaus instead of talking about pregnancy, sex, contraception, etc, ppl acted like abstinence was the only way. They neglected to understand that teens do have sex drives, they want to understand them better, and without more open education, they then turn to fiction to understand it. Which is dangerous. Instead of doing the work of addressing topics irl, it gave more voice and responsibilities to creators who may have been using fiction as a therapeutic tool when they may not have had access to traditional therapy.

Like I get it, I really do. I have my own history of trauma, but I’m not about to demand fiction to stop existing - because when it’s all said and done, erasing fiction does not erase the hurt or real life consequences I have to live with. It does not do any good to dismantle a space for people to have room to explore topics in fiction. It does not do any good to try and ban things in hopes that it will stop. Because let me assure you, even if fictional media gets banned, other tools can and will be used by shitty people who intend to harm. And we need to be willing to acknowledge and accept that, because bullying and harassing people over fictional media is disgusting, and puts them on a similar level as the problematic media they are trying to fight against, except they are the ones causing actual harm. If you can’t see that, then that’s part of the problem and you’ve been, frankly, brainwashed to believe that as long as the problematic media goes away, any means to get there is justified. That is not, and should never be okay, and we need to do better in understanding that it’s a tool used by manipulators who want to do harm under a pretense of “the moral good” and/or “think of the children,” when they themselves don’t do anything to ensure real life children are staying safe and being protected in their communities. You can’t moral police if you aren’t willing to stand up for actual children, or victims of any kind, if you think fictional realities have more weight than real life.

Because it doesn’t.

Overall, we really, really, need to do better in understanding and combatting that, otherwise we are no better than bystanders who look at things going on IRL and letting them happen. We need to not equate what someone likes in fiction being a tell for who they are individually. We need to do better in educating ppl how to interact with content they do not like. We also need to do better in pushing for better mental healthcare and making it more affordable. We need to do a lot, but we need to stop pointing the finger at fictional media and actually combat the root issues.

#fiction vs reality #morality in fictional topics #tw shooting #tw school shooting #tw teen pregnancy #tw sex mention #if you guys need me to tag anything else pls feel free to let me know!

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friendlylocalwhumper · 5 years

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hero

Usually, in their house, there’s always some background noise. The sink running, sounds from outside the open windows, the TV on or music playing from the speakers beside it. But right now it’s quiet as Colten takes the stage, standing in the middle of the living room, holding a stapled packet of worksheets.

Emory and Lux are sitting on the couch facing him, ready to listen. Emory’s sipping coffee, fiddling with the cover of his sketchbook where he set it down in his lap. Lux has turned his phone off and set it aside to make sure his hands stay unoccupied. In every way, the couple are prepared to act as parents, listening to Colten as he delivers his speech.

“So, this is for my language arts class,” The young warlock explains, scraping the bottom of his sneaker against the carpet. He isn’t smiling - he seems nervous, worried. Lux smiles supportively, sitting up straight and nodding. “And I’m gonna read it to my class. There’s two papers here.” The eleven-year-old dangles the packet between his index finger and his thumb to prove that it’s stapled at that corner. “‘Cause, one page is what I can read to my class, and one’s the real one.”

“Which one are we gonna hear?” Emory asks.

“The real one. It’s - it’s - got stuff in it that’s not good to say in school.”

Emory opens his mouth to ask more, but Lux nudges him. “Okay, Cole, read us your speech.”

Colten nods, flipping to the second page. It looks like it’s got a lot more words written on it than the first one. There are splotches where the ink bled through the paper, as if he kept pausing, kept pushing the point of his pen down and thinking too long about how to finish a sentence.

“The question at the top says Who is your hero? Write a paragraph explaining your answer. The, the second part isn’t a question. No question mark.”

Lux nods along, as if the explanation seriously aids his understanding of the introduction. Emory smiles and sips some more coffee.

“My hero - I’m reading my answer now,” Cole adds, then continues. His voice gets quieter as he focuses entirely on his own handwriting. “My hero is my friend named Lux. He is a warlock.” The boy glances up to see Lux nodding. Emory’s eyes have widened as he realized that this is why Cole can’t read his speech to his class.

“Go on, Cole,” Lux encourages.

“He is a warlock. I’m a warlock too. I met Lux in a scary place. Lux is tall, and he has curly hair and lots of scars.”

“Little ones, little scars,” Lux mutters to Emory, commentating.

“I know that,” Answers Emory, and Lux shrugs.

“...lots of scars,” Colten repeats, finding his place after looking up again. “If he didn’t have any scars, I would say he’s only kind of strong. But he has a lot, and I know how he got some of them, and that’s why he’s a hero. Somebody didn’t like that Lux is a warlock, so he hurt Lux. I think that man has some personal problems.”

Lux snorts, slapping a hand to his forehead. At Colten’s worried, startled glance, he says, “No, it’s - you’re right, you’re really right, Cole. Go ahead, I’m sorry.”

“Lux got - is it okay if I read this part, Lux? It’s - I don’t want to say the wrong thing.”

“Yeah, it’s okay. Read what you wrote, I wanna hear it.”

Cole’s eyes flick to Emory, and Lux makes a dismissive gesture. “Emory can hear it too, it’s alright.”

The eleven-year-old takes a deep breath and nods. “Lux got kept in a basement. He got hurt with lots of things like a knife, and a whip, and he got beat up. I was there too. But Lux didn’t ever let me get hurt.” Here, Colten’s voice switches from the nervous droning of a student reading words on a paper, to telling a story with emotion behind it. “I was alone, since my mom and dad weren’t there, but Lux was my friend. I hugged him when I got scared, and I got scared a lot.”

Lux has fallen still, no longer nudging or nodding, but he’s no less invested in listening. Emory’s acutely aware of Lux’s posture, his breathing, his movements and lack thereof.

“A hero is somebody who protects other people. A hero puts their friends first, and doesn’t take credit. Usually, heroes fly away when they’re done saving a city. My hero has to hide because he’s a warlock, and warlocks don’t get to be normal. But Lux is a lot better than normal. Lux is my hero.”

After a few moments staring at the page, Colten lowers it to inspect his audience. Emory looks sad. Lux is wiping away a tear.

“Was it that bad?” The boy asks, shifting his weight to his other foot. “I know I can’t read it to anybody, I promise.”

“No, it was good, that was very good.” Lux finishes wiping away the next stray tear and then smiles. “I’m your hero?”

“Yeah. Well, a kid in my class said he was gonna write about a firefighter he didn’t even really know. And Riley said he’d write about a cop.” Cole scrunches up his nose. “A girl said she’d pick her dad ‘cause he works all day. And I wanted to write this, even if they couldn’t hear it, because you’re better than all those.”

“That was amazing, Cole, I wish you could read it to them, or show it to your teacher,” Emory praises, sounding like it’s a true loss. “You’re good at giving speeches. Did somebody help you with writing that?”

“No, I did it all by myself. I checked two words in the dictionary.”

“Woah!” Lux comments brightly, emotion making his voice crack after hearing the speech. “It shows, it was really well-written! Can I see it?” Once Colten brings over the packet and hands it over, Lux’s eyes crinkle at the corner upon seeing the sloppy handwriting. “You did such a good job. Thank you for writing this, Cole, I know you didn’t have to. Did you - did you read it to your mom and dad yet?”

“Uh-huh. My dad made a copy. I, I was thinking, you could have this one.”

“Oh, I’d love that, thank you Cole. I’ll -” Well, hanging it on the fridge wouldn’t be great. Lux doesn’t exactly want to think about his scars and the ways he’s been hurt while making food or wandering out for a snack late at night. “I’ll keep it somewhere safe. This is a great present, thank you!”

“Do you wanna read us the other one for practice, Cole?” Emory asks, leaning forward. “The one you’ll present to your class?”

The little warlock shakes his head. “No, that one’s just some lies. Talked about one of my teachers. I don’t even like him. But I think I’ll get extra credit.”

Lux nods sagely. “That’s the way to do it,” He adds, and Cole matches his nodding.

Emory watches the two of them interact. It’s odd, and sad, what this exchange has been: Cole wrote a short few sentences that were lies to share out of habit, and saved a long, emotional essay for his friend to tuck away somewhere and treasure it. It reminds him of how Lux values things, tucked away in the safety of their home, and when out in public he just tries to breeze through and take up little space, little time, fluent in the art of escaping. The truth is precious and hidden, and that’s just what warlocks can expect in life. Warlocks don’t get to be normal, Cole had said. It seems truest in innocuous moments like this.

Emory sets aside his forgotten sketchbook. “Thanks for letting me listen, Cole. I think I learned from listening to that.”

As he sometimes does when Emory proves that he’s, incredibly, someone without magic who is a good person, Cole raises his eyebrows. “You’re welcome.”

“At least he’s not calling you Mr. Emory anymore,” Lux nudges, and Cole is instantly flustered. Smiling again after the serious turn in conversation, Emory thinks to himself that he’s never seen Lux act like such a dad before. It suits him.

#happy birthday lux!#drabble #whump #past trauma #live write stuff #lux #emory #colten #mine #this is loooong and slow #but i kinda like subtle angsty stuff like this #lux will never forget this!#i think a long work (long for my usual writings at least) should get a title! at least so i can find it easily when i want to #this was fun but i made myself conk out i'm so sleeeeeepy

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forever-rogue · 5 years

Text

The Edge of Thirty - Part 5

Summary: Everyone seems to be getting married, having babies, or “growing up.” Except Y/N. Suddenly at almost thirty, reality seems to be crashing down on her – and hard. Nothing seemed as daunting as turning thirty…until she met Gwilym Lee anyway.

A/N: Hiya guys! Thanks for much all the support on this series, I really appreciate it and every single of you guys! I hope you enjoy! xx

Pairing: Gwilym Lee x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: some more foreshadowing (oof), very light smut

MASTERLIST

"And that my little love bugs is why recycling -" Y/N stopped mid-sentence as a knock came at her door. She turned to look at her students, giving them a wide eyed grin, before putting a finger to her lips, and heading to the door. She had a feeling she knew exactly who it was. She calmed herself for a moment, smoothing her dress before opening the door and coming face to face with a stout, mustached man who immediately gave her the once over.

"Miss L/N?" so much for a good morning or any sort of proper greeting. Trying to hide her discontent, Y/N plastered on a big smile while she bobbed her head up and down in confirmation. The man gave her a disdainful look that spoke volumes: he was already predisposed to not liking her. Clearing his throat he mustered out, "my name is Victor Redson, I'm here to sit in on your class. I believe Headmaster Crickle informed you that I was coming?"

"Of course, please do come in Mr. Redson," she would have loved nothing more than to smack him across the face, but stayed her hand. Otherwise she'd probably never find another job anywhere in England. Instead, she pulled the door wide open and allowed him in, "class, this is Mr. Redson, he's going to be joining us today. What do we say to visitors?"

"Good morning, Mr. Redson," they chorused at the man, curious looks on their little faces, as he clambered in and took a seat in the back of the room. A few of them giggled eagerly, trying to get a better look at their intruder, but Y/N tried to avoid his piercing gaze. All she had to do was keep herself calm and composed and she would be fine. Easy peasy lemon squeezy, she reminded herself. She was a good teacher after all, she just needed him to realize that.

"Miss L/N," he took out a notepad and pen and leaned back in the chair. He had an air about him that she didn't quite like. A sort of superior air that suggested he clearly thought he was superior to her. There was something about him that she couldn't quite place. She didn't like him already, that much she knew, "please carry on and conduct your class as your normally would. Pretend I'm not here."

"Of course," she gave him a smile, before turning to sit on the edge of her desk. Part of her felt like she should change her ways for the day, basically embody the picture of perfection, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She'd never allow herself to change for anyone, including an old man bent on bring her down. It was going to her way or no way.

She reached for the book and she had started reading with them and beckoned for them to do the same. The sound of all her little students pulling out their own copies was like music to her ears, "now. Turn to where we left off...I believe page three hundred ninety four."

Surprisingly, the day went by without a hitch. It was as if something in the universe had gone right and the fates were in her favor. Her students must have sensed that she was nervous, or something odd was up because they behaved much better than they ever had before. Not that they were a particularly rowdy bunch in the first place, but they were just extra sweet today. Especially her little group of favourites - Jenny, Brian, and Johnnie.

By the time the end of the day rolled around, she was sure she was safe and even Crickle would be impressed. It seemed like it was easier to breathe suddenly, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. For once, things finally seemed to be going right - she and Ben had made up, she felt confident at work, and she had that blissful newness that was Gwil.

It had only been a few weeks since they had first met, but those few weeks had been, to put it simply, amazing. Gwil had turned out to be the epitome of the perfect man and she often wondered if he was actually real and not just a figment of her imagination.

Packing up her things for the day, Jenny was going on about how excited she was that her Uncle Gwil was picking her up again. He'd, very sneakily, made it a point to start picking her up whenever his schedule had allowed, claiming it was all to spend to time with his favorite niece and to help his brother out.

A very doting uncle indeed she had told him, but she knew he enjoyed the added benefits of getting to her almost everyday. If he was feeling really confident, he’d even sneak her a few flowers, which she kept displayed in a vase on her desk.

"Hey Jenny," he said as he leaned in the doorway, beaming down at the little girl who immediately ran over to hug him. He picked her up and gave her a big kiss, as she giggled in his arms, “did you have a good day? Where you good for Y/N - I mean Miss L/N?”

“Yes, Uncle Gwil,” she promised him, “we had a visitor today so were all on our best behavior!”

“Good girl,” he smiled as he set her back down. Y/N looked at him with a smirk as she mouth nice save at him. Needless to say, they hadn’t told Jenny they had been seeing each other. Not that they were trying to hide it necessarily, but they didn’t need her telling everyone and having a certain someone find out. That was more drama that was not needed, “Jenny, why don’t you say goodbye to your friends, and I’ll come get you in a few minutes.”

“Okay, Uncle Gwil,” she grabbed her backpack and lunchbox before running out of the room to meet her friends on the playground. She paused when she got to the door, stopping to wave at Y/N, “bye Miss L/N, have a great day!”

“Bye, love bug!” she waved at her as Gwil walked over to her, making sure Jenny was out of sight before leaning down and kissing Y/N gently. She smiled into the kiss, reaching up and putting her hands on his shoulders, “hello to you too tree boy, someone’s eager for a kiss this afternoon.”

“Missed you,” he said as he snuck in a quick peck before leaning against the desk next to her. She let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and snort, as she often did when she was completely comfortable around someone. It had quickly become one of his favourite sounds.

“Gwil, you saw me last night,” she joked as she nudged him gently in the ribs, “and this morning when I left your place for work. It’s been like...maybe ten hours.”

“I don’t care,” he insisted, as she moved in front of him, stepping into the space between his legs as he wrapped his long arms around her, “still missed you, love.”

“You’re too much of a romantic to be real,” she whispered as she nuzzled her face into his chest, the now familiar smell invading her senses. He always smelled so good - clean and fresh, mixed with his natural musk, “are you just gonna hug me, or are you gonna kiss me properly? We’ve only got a few minutes before Jenny will get suspicious.”

“I guess I’ll kiss you properly, just to give you a little something to remember me by,” he put his hands on the sides of her face, running his thumb along her cheekbone. She smiled at him as she studied his brilliant cerulean eyes, as he gently pressed his lips onto hers, the kiss soft but meaningful.

She didn’t know if it had been thirty seconds or thirty minutes since Gwil had started kissing her, but they were suddenly interrupted by a loud knock on her door frame, followed by a throat clear. Y/N almost jumped back from Gwil, cursing herself for not remembering to close and lock her door. Turning to face the intruder, her heart dropped into her stomach when she saw Redson, flanked by Crickle standing there, staring at the two of them.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything, Miss L/N,” Crickle commented dryly, looking back and forth between the two of them. She could feel that her cheeks were red hot, but did her best to remain composed, “I can come back another time?”

“No, sir, of course. He was just umm, leaving,” Y/N hastily pushed him towards the door, refusing to make eye contact or prolonging the awkward interaction any longer. This was bad, this was real bad.

“Mr. Lee, was it? You’re Jenny’s uncle, aren’t?” of course Crickle wouldn’t just let him get away. Of course he knew exactly who he was. Just as quickly as the fates had decided to be kind to her, it all got ripped out from under her feet. Gwil stopped in his tracks, giving him a tight lipped smile and wondered whether he should lie or not. Instead he gave him a slight nod.

“Indeed,” he said shortly, trying his best to shimmy out the door, “if you’ll excuse me, I need to get going, have my own class to teach soon.”

“Good day, Mr. Lee,” he raised an eyebrow at him, refused to say anything else, zoning back in on Y/N. She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she could taste the metallic flavor of blood, “Ms. L/N, I was on my way to give you a bit of a congratulations. It appears Mr. Redson here was quite impressed by how you handled your class.”

“Thank you, sir, it means a lot-”

“But I wasn’t aware you were in a relationship with an immediate family member of one of your students,” he peered down his glasses at her, and she tried to swallow the lump in her throat. Her worst fears seemed to be coming true.

“I’m not,” she lied hoping to be at least somewhat convincing. The look he gave her suggested that he in no way believed her. She had to be quick on her toes and stay one step ahead of him, otherwise it could all come crashing down around her.

“Oh, was that not what we happened upon-”

“No, it was nothing. A few moments of indiscretion, I assure you, Headmaster,” lying through gritted teeth, she realized how much she hated those words. But right now, she wasn’t about to lose her job over a quick make out session gone wrong because neither of them had thought to shut the door, “I apologize for the...scene I seem to have caused, but I assure you it’ll never happen again. I take my job more seriously than to put it in jeopardy over a mistake. It was a temporary loss of reason, please forgive me.”

Gwil stood in the hallway, listening to their exchange with baited breath. He wasn’t sure what he had expected her to say, but the words still stung a little bit. Hearing her deny their relationship made it feel sneaky and inappropriate, when it reality it was neither -they weren’t some sort of love-struck teenagers running around behind their parents’ backs after all. He also knew that she was under strict scrutiny at the moment, but her snappy response and calling it a mistake still felt him feeling uneasy.

Sighing to himself, he stepped away to round up Jenny and drop her off at home before going to teach his late afternoon class. It was his last class of the week, and Friday had come at last at the end of another long week and right now he wanted nothing more than a good drink and a quiet night in.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Crickle furrowed his brows at her, as Y/N gave him a thankful nod, “I’ll go over your assessment in more depth in the following week, and then we can discuss it one on one. Keep your afternoons clear next week, Miss L/N.”

“Yes, Headmaster,” trying her best to maintain a smile as the two men left, she quickly closed the door behind them and locked it. Letting a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding, she yanked her phone out of her desk drawer and typed out a message to Gwil.

Sorry about all that. Guess we need to be more careful from now on!

It was an agonizing few minutes as she anticipated his response. When it finally came it was short, and rather out of character for him.

No worries. See you tomorrow.

Frowning at her phone, namely his response, she decided not to text him back just yet, and put her phone in her bag, getting ready to head home for the day. At least she had dinner with Ben, Becca, and Lucy to look forward. It had been a long week, and she was more excited than anything to see her friends again. It would be just the four of them, no significant others included. Just like the olden days.

“Can you believe it’s only ten more days until your wedding?!” Becca asked excitedly, gripping onto Lucy’s arm. The look on Lucy’s face suggested she was anything but excited, nervous more like, a worried expression in her soft eyes. In all honesty, Y/N had been so wrapped up in her own thoughts and life lately that she had almost forgotten about the wedding. She made a mental note to triple check to confirm that it was on her calendar. She wouldn’t survive the day if she missed her best friend’s wedding, and she was not willing to take chances.

“Is it too late to get cold feet?” she laughed, glancing anxiously at her best friends. Ben and Y/N exchanged amused looks with their eyebrows raised before shaking their heads at her. She groaned lightly and reached for her wine glass, downing the rest of it in one big gulp.

“Jesus, Luce, slow down or we’re going to have to carry you home!” Y/N knew Lucy was a lightweight and it didn’t take much to get her drunk, and although she was a hysterical drunk, now probably wasn’t the time, “I doubt Rami wants to babysit tonight, isn’t he out with Joe and Tessa?”

“I’m just so...I don’t even know how to describe the feeling,” she stated, flailing her arms in the air in search of the right words to use, “I love Rami, so much, truly, but the whole planning and actually getting married is scarier than I thought! But it’ll be worth it though, I know it. Y/N...did you feel similar when you and James-”

“Yes,” she cut her off quickly, averting her eyes to the floor. The question had caught her so off guard and left her feeling sad and vulnerable, her eyes almost immediately stinging with tears. She knew Lucy hadn’t meant any harm by her simple question, but it had become a bit of an unspoken rule to not discuss such matters. The subject of James was supposed to remain off limits. Ben reached over and squeezed her leg reassuringly, and she just rested her hand on top of his.

“Y/N,” he interjected before Lucy could continue on, Becca looking away awkwardly as she remained oblivious, “is your new boyfriend, who you’ve kept hidden from us, going to be your plus one to the wedding?”

“Umm,” Y/N almost choked on the bite she was halfway through chewing as all eyes were suddenly on her. The idea hadn’t even crossed her mind - she had been so wrapped up in Gwil that she forgot about everything else. It was all so fresh and new that introducing him to everyone was at the back of her mind. She blurted out the first thing that came to mind, “he’s not my boyfriend.”

“He’s not your boyfriend? We’ve seen to be quite taken with this Gwilym for someone who’s not your boyfriend,” Ben raised an eyebrow suspiciously at her and she just shrugged, “you’ve spent a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged wishing everyone would just go back to eating and focusing their attention their meals instead of grilling her, “it’s been fun, but I’m not going to call it anything it isn’t.”

“Does he know you feel this way?” Becca asked gently, trying not to push Y/N too far, knowing that her dating life was sometimes a volatile conversation. Looking over at her briefly, she opened and closed her a mouth a few times, trying to find the right words, “I’m not trying to be mean, love, and don’t take it that way. I just want to make sure you’re the on the same page. It seems like he’s pretty smitten with you.”

“We’re both adults, I’m sure he knows I feel. It’s not like we made some sort of promise to be exclusive or anything, besides we’re allowed to have a little fun,” she was quick to play off her friends’ concerns, knowing she sounded like she always had. It was just fun - nothing serious, just like every fling past James.

“Babe, you...just make sure he knows how you really feel,” Ben said quietly, and she just nodded at him, “because if he cares about you how much you seem to care about him, then he wants to be serious with you.”

“Look, I appreciate all your concern guys, I really do, but I’m sure he knows what we are. We aren’t official or anything, and I’m sure he knows that. We started off as a one night stand, did either of us expect it to really work out?” Y/N mused out loud, more for herself than the others.

She really, really did like Gwil. There was no doubt about it that he made her heart go pitter-patter and she was also so whipped for him - but where did that leave them? Were they actually going to do this and be serious with one another? She tried to picture herself waking up everyday next to Gwil; it was an easy answer - yes. But in her heart of hearts she knew she was scared, terrified even, of anything more serious than the occasional fling. The idea of more heartbreak and possibly going through another major loss was almost too much to bear, and it seemed safer to keep people at a distance. Walls up meant you were safe, walls down left you defenseless and vulnerable.

But what about Gwil? Where did that leave him. She cared him about, more than just in a he’s hot and amazing in bed sort of way.

“It’s okay to let people in, Y/N,” Lucy said gently, reaching across the table and giving her hand a gentle pat, “besides, it seems to have been going well. Don’t push him away just because it’s a little scary.”

“I won’t mess this one up, you guys,” she played them off with a light smile and a chuckle that sounded just a little too forced, “if something’s meant to be with Gwil and myself will happen. I swear it.”

“Soooo, he’ll be your plus one?” Becca teased, nudging her foot gently with her own, bringing a real smile to her face. Not matter how much they argued or disagreed on things, her friends always had her back. It didn’t always feel like it, but she knew it was true. Almost twenty years of friendship wasn’t something that just went down on the drain.

“You lot are the worst, just so you all know,” Y/N grabbed her wine glass and raised it in a mock salute, “but yes, I’ll ask him if he’ll be my date and then you can all meet him and have him heading for the hills!”

“We would never,” Becca swore, “we love a tall, sexy English literature professor. We could always use some more eye candy - no offense to you or the guys, Benny.”

“None taken,” he jokingly pouted, causing them all to laugh, “we’ll just have to see exactly how good looking he is.”

“Really, guys?” Y/N sighed lightly, shaking her head with an amused grin on her face, “the absolute worst!”

Trying to catch her breath as she leaned down to press a kiss to Gwil’s lips, she noticed he seemed slightly off. Normally he’d touch her face, whispering all sorts of sweet nothings in her ear, showering her in kisses. Not tonight though, he remained stagnant, no visible signs of emotion on his face. Y/N let out a tiny sigh, sliding off of him and heading to bathroom to grab a washcloth to clean herself off. Normally Gwil would take that duty, making sure she was properly looked after they both reached their highs.

“Gwil?” she asked quietly, sliding back into her bed and lying next to him, keeping a small distance between their warm bodies. He made a noncommittal sound, but didn’t roll over to look at her, staring at the ceiling instead, “what’s wrong, bub? Are you even here with me?”

“I’m here,” he responded after a few tense moments of silence. A small sense of relief flooded her veins as she rolled over to study his profile. Even in the pale moonlight, he was more handsome than anyone should have been allowed to be. His eyes were wide open, and unflinching, his chest rising and falling slowly. She could practically hear the gears turning in his head as a million thoughts seemed to race through his mind.

“Then why won’t you look at me?” she asked, resting her head on the pillow and reaching over, tracing aimless shapes over his bare chest. He reached over and grabbed her hand, putting a stop to her actions, rolling over slowly to look at her. She would be lying if she said it hadn’t hurt her feelings a little bit, “Gwil?”

“Have you thought I was a mistake this whole time?” he asked suddenly, and a look of confusion crossed her face. She didn’t know where he had even gotten the notion from; it wasn’t like he was there during dinner with her friends, “I heard you talking to the Headmaster yesterday. A mistake and a moment of indiscretion, I believe you called it.”

“Oh...I didn’t know you were listening,” she cringed lightly, realizing what she had said was pretty damning. He looked at her, a concerned look on his handsome face, “Gwil, no, bub, please that didn’t mean anything. It was all just talk.”

“Oh?” he echoed her earlier words, seemingly unconvinced by her words, “because I’m not going to waste my time if you don’t want me. I’m too old for that, and I don’t care for it. I want to be with you, Y/N, and entails telling people we’re dating, going out and living our life as a normal couple.”

“You do?” she asked in a small voice as he nodded at her, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. There it was, her insecurities peeking through again, making her want to run away and hide. That was a commitment, a serious commitment, “I just I told Crickle that because I don’t need him to have another reason to fire me. I’m on thin enough ice as it is, and it’s barely beginning to thaw. I need to keep him on my good side.”

“I know...” he realized she was right, her job was important to her, “I understand, it was just...a bit harsh to hear. Perhaps my ego’s too soft.”

“Trust me, Gwilym Lee, I really care for you,” she confessed, her heart starting to thump wildly in her chest. It made her nervous to say the words out, like he could so easily just reject her, but he didn’t. He was choosing her, “I’m not going to lie and say this isn’t scary for me, but...just be patient with me, yeah?”

“I will. love,” he reached over and stroked her cheek gently, “I’ll have you know, I care very deeply for you too. But, that does lead me to my next question - will you be my girlfriend? Officially? So we can go on and be a normal couple?”

“Yes,” the word rolled off her tongue more easily than she had originally anticipated. It was easy, so easy saying yes to him and having no reservations. Calling the tall lanky tree that was Gwilym Lee her boyfriend seemed pretty good to her, “I’ll be your girlfriend, you big dork. But I have a question for you too...”

“Wow, things really are getting serious, aren’t they?” he joked, letting his hand drift down her bare body, pushing the covers back as he ghosted his fingers over her supple flesh, “look at us, in bed, discussing serious things. Just like a real couple.”

“I don’t know how serious my question actually is,” she laughed lightly, the way he was studying her was not lost on her. He smirked at her, one eyebrow cocked, “Lucy and Rami’s wedding is next weekend. Will you be my date?”

“Isn’t that kind of assumed?” he teased, slowly pulling her closer to him, soon leaving a bit of space between their bodies, “besides I want to meet your friends. I’m sure they’ve got plenty of good stories to tell. And I’ve got a new suit to break in.”

“They’re dying to meet you,” she agreed, the idea of him in a new suit caused tingles to shoot through her body. She wondered who gave him the right to look that good in a suit, casual tshirt and jeans, and naked. It simply wasn’t fair. But for some reason, he had chosen her, and she wasn’t about to argue with that, “they probably think I’m making you up.”

“I can assure, love, I’m real,” he whispered, nuzzling his nose against hers, pressing a few lazily kisses to her face as his hand drifted lower and lower before settling just above her hips, “I’m sorry for acting like an arse.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said as she placed a hand on his chest, “‘s okay. We’re here now, together, and that’s what matters.”

“Let me make it up to you,” he said in a suggestive manner and she almost moaned at the tone of his voice. It was so smooth, so perfect, and lusty, “you did all the work earlier. Let me take care of you properly.”

“Gwil,” she breathed out as he pulled back from her, sliding down the bed and slowly spreading her legs. She bit her lip, trying to hold back her whimpers as he kissed along her thighs, stopping when he reached their apex, “you don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insisted, shooting her a wink, “let me love you, Y/N. Let me be the one to take care of you.”

“Okay,” was all she managed to squeak out before his disappeared between her legs, her hands balling up in the sheets almost immediately. She tried to keep her mind quiet and to enjoy the pleasure, but, of course, it wasn’t meant to be. A slight sense of panic set in - she had just agreed to be someone’s girlfriend. It was scary, she knew, she hadn’t been anyone’s girlfriend in years, and for good reason.

But here she was, lying in bed with the most handsome of men between her legs telling her he wanted to her. And she was having second thoughts, all because of her own trepidation. If only life was as easy as the movies made it appear.

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eccho-system · 5 years

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//why did I lie?//

I keep asking me that question for days now. I don't rhink that judgement leads to anything. Of course I need to stop doing it, but for me the only way to avoid toxic strategies like lying is to understand why I did it in the first place or I will just replace it with something other.

Lying was essential in my childhood. My mom never said: lie to you father, but she did show me how to avoid negative moments with my dad by lying to him. So did my bigger sister. If I ever made the mistake to tell the truth about what was going on inside me the situation escalated pretty quickly.

When I started to open up to my teachers about what was going on at home and how that made me feel they chose to send me to a psychologist. I hated her. I hated that I had to undress me each week so she could search my body for new scars/wounds. She said: "if I see another one, therapy will be over and I'm gonna call your mom." I never wanted to hurt my mom. All I ever tried to do growing up was to protect her, so I needed to get better. I lied. I simply lied my way out of therapy. I stopped cutting and started drinking and starving instead, but noone ever noticed.

I moved out when I was 15. It was a big relieve on the one hand, cause it was a way to escape my father's rage and my mom's depression. But on the other hand I wasn't ready to live alone. I had panic attacks on a daily basis. The teachers kept asking me what was wrong, but I feared that if they knew, I had to go to therapy again and that I had to move back to my parents. By this time that wasn't an option for me. I lied to stay out of trouble.

Then I went to church, a safe space (or so I thought) where I didn't have to lie anymore to protect myself. In this church lying really became a survival strategie. I don't wanna name the specifics, but if I had been honest about how I felt about women, I would've been in real trouble. When I opened up about my feelings they used them to manipulate me. I remember one of the leaders telling me that they think the holocaust was a good idea for people like me, that they wish I would get hit by a bus and die, cause dying would be better than staying alive like I wanted to: openly gay.

When I started dating my wife I was still in school, she was my teacher. So I had to lie again. This time to each and every person around me. My friends, my family, the people who meant to most to me. Now that a few years have passed I realized why relationships between students and teachers are forbidden. I don't blame her for burdening me with so much emotional pressure. I asked for it and she gave it to me. My wife was bulimic and had nervous breakdowns on a regular basis. She said that she was so happy to have me, because otherwise she would just give up. I started lying about how I felt inside, that I had flashbacks and struggled with bulimia myself to protect her. I was completely isolated, cause I couldn't talk to other people what was bothering me and I couldn't talk to my wife, cause I got scared that she would hurt herself out of guilt.

When I opened up to friends about how I felt about our relationship and that I struggled a lot she noticed that they were very negative towards her so she slowly started to erase them from my life. Again. I do not blame her for doing that. She was insecure and didn't want to lose me. She used to talk badly about all the friends that I loved.

I realize that I am tense each time I tell her about any plans with my friends. I am scared to lose them, especially those friends she thinks are a threat to her like A or N. We talked a lot about me falling in love with other people and she says that she's ok with it, but in her reaction towards my interactions with the women she knows about (A and N) you can tell that she isn't ok with it. She doesn't like A that much and she hates N.

Other than that I was never able to talk openly about my reactions to traumatic events that happened, because she thinks that people like me just have to toughen up. I skipped a lot of classes in university, cause I had flashbacks or was completely numb and never told her, because the few times I did she got very angry very quickly. It's funny that people seem to search for partners that are similar to their parents, cause my wife is a lot like my father. She is loud, angry and says a lot of very mean things in fights. For example if I want to go somewhere and she doesn't like me to go there she doesn't say no. She starts to humiliate me by mocking about my wish constantly or making fun of people/things that are important to me. There are a few things that are very important to me and I kept them a secret so that she couldn't devaluate them. A is part of that. Without her I wouldn't be here anymore. I would have given up. I don't want anybody to make fun of it. Her friendship means a lot to me for many various and complex reasons and I am not willing to discuss this with my wife, because of the said reasons.

Lying is toxic, I know that and I want to change. Until now I just wasn't strong enough. I found friends who I trust and I learned so much from our friendship that I am finally able to stand up for myself. Don't be so quick to judge. You never know where people come from or to what they have to go home to.

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karinrumi · 5 years

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Gambler of Feelings - Chapter 19

With trembling hands, she opened the blue box that belonged to her mom to look into what's inside. Pretty stationery was sticking out.

Multiple letters.

Some of them were empty, some of them were scribbled all over with her mom's favourite black pen. But that meant the note Boruto found three months ago was real. Sarada couldn't deny evidence she held in her hands. No, she should calm down. It's not like she knows what's written in them, right? For all, she knows the rumours she heard could be baseless, and her mom is a friend of Boruto's father. Their parents seemed to know each other for some reason. All of that could be just her being unnecessarily paranoid.

Dear Naruto

Meet me today at our usual place. Don't let Hinata or anybody know about it, you know what I mean, right? Anyway, I'm counting on you!

Sakura Uchiha

Sarada recognised the words written in the first letter she took out. That was the same one Boruto pulled out three months ago and based their bet on it. She decided to ignore Boruto was peeking out from behind her shoulder since he was an involved party just like her.

Dear Sakura

Got it! I will promise to arrive on time, believe it! Are you sure you're alright without Sasuke around? I can always call him to come back for you, ya know.

Naruto

"Call back for dad? What for?" Sarada wondered out aloud.

"Maybe my dad, your mom and dad formed the love triangle in the past? Wouldn't surprise me, really." Boruto chimed in jokingly.

"Shush. There's more," she said, curious to see the entire exchange.

Dear Naruto

I am sorry Hinata heard those stupid rumours. I went to explain to her everything personally. I cannot blame her for that considering all three of us were in an open-relationship before because I wanted to make my current husband jealous. We all made stupid things when we were teenagers, right?

Thank you for keeping your promise. And no. You don't need to call Sasuke. We're not teenagers anymore focus on your family, okay?

Sakura

"I was right, ya know! In some way. The love triangle part happened with your mom and my parents. Isn't that awkward?"

Sarada was too shocked by obtaining this information behind her mom's back. She expected many things. That maybe her mom had a secret romance with Boruto's father, that maybe there's the hidden reason why she's so upset when she hears about the dream Sarada and her grandma shared. Not that Boruto's parents and her mom were in the poly-relationship as teenagers!

"It is awkward," she responded, still shocked by the things she recently learned about her mother.

Sarada felt incredibly bad for not asking her mom about everything in person and snooping around her stuff. But who could blame her? It wasn't Sarada's fault that her mom had a bad habit of hiding the family past.

It hurt she always needed to discover events hidden from her by herself. Sarada hated her family was so-secretive sometimes. Both mama and papa supposedly did it to spare her feelings, but it had an opposite effect.

Dear Sakura

Guilt-tripping again, eh? We all did stupid things as a teenagers, but I don't think the whole experience was negative. We are where we are because of it, right? Besides, it looks like my son is getting along with your daughter well. Both you and Hinata should meet up and explain everything to each other. I have a feeling we all meet soon considering our children are friends, ya know? We can talk about granny death in detail in person later, got it? I feel bad hiding our small letter exchange from Hinata. I don't want to make her angry.

Naruto

Sarada slid the letters to their respective envelopes and looked at Boruto to relax. "Let's stop reading these letters. I am feeling bad about reading our parents' private correspondence."

"I am shocked about some things written in here too. Mom never mentioned to me anything she did as a teenager, even if I asked her a few times." Boruto added still staring at her small collection of books

"Are you interested in borrowing a book from me?" she questioned him.

"Ahh, no. I just like how neatly those books are put." That was the weakest excuse Sarada heard coming from Boruto. Something was up, and she never had a chance to ask what was bothering him. Consumed by her own feelings, she decided to move that subject for later. However, they were alone in her room now, so that's her only chance to ask him what's up straight up.

"Hey, what's wrong? You space out a lot lately. Are you feeling alright?" She didn't try to sound incredibly worried, but lack-of-communication with other people for so long made it an impossible task.

"It's nothing serious," he paused and directed his gaze at her. "Sarada, you have something you want to do in the future, right? Why you want to pursue that dream?"

"To make my grandma's wish come true. It's the only thing that was left to me after she died. You can think it's stupid, but I've never moved on after her death. I feel like making our dream come true can give me a sense of closure." Granny death has shaken her pretty hard. When Sarada thought about this, it was around that time she stopped talking to other people besides Chō-Chō. She only spoke with her club members and teachers afterwards. Rest of the students were afraid of her, or just not noticed she exist.

"That's an awesome dream, ya know! Personally, I don't know what to do in the future, or with myself after I graduate. All the talks about plans for the future just makes me feel pressured, and in the end, I am unable to choose the path I want to walk on. The whole too-cool-for school act just paints me as a popular troublemaker, " he sighed, sharing his worries with her as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Sarada wanted to embrace him, tell him it's alright, and she'll help him find the dream he wanted to pursue. That people will stop seeing him as a troublemaker sooner or later. Like she did and has fallen in love with him.

Would he like to hear it from her? Boruto was popular at school, a lot of girls confessed to him daily. There's no way she could compare to them. Although, he's kind Boruto was way out of her league.

"There's some time for you to think before we graduate, or you can always accept the position of my future assistant! I need a lot of help if I want to pursue my dream too," she said. It wasn't what she really wanted to do, but Sarada hoped her words cheered him up. Just like he always did it for her, even without knowing about it.

"Thank you, Sarada," his smile came back, and she drowned in his beautiful blue eyes again. She needed to redo the Uchiha family training from the scratch. Staying composed around Boruto was starting to get harder for her as of lately.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・

Boruto felt like a heavy burden left him. He spent so much on creating his 'cool' persona, so he rarely talked about his worries. Most of the time, people didn't take him for the type that would be serious about the future. That's why being near Sarada was like the breath of the fresh air.

"Glad to help you," Sarada said, the concern still visible on her face. It's probably the first time he was cheered up by a person that wasn't his family member nowadays.

"By the way... Are you sure it's okay for me to be in your room for so long?" Boruto pointed out, feeling suddenly self-conscious of what he was implying.

"Yes? Is there something wrong with my room?" she tilted her head in the way she always did when he said something that was confusing to her.

Sarada was the type of girl that interacted more with books than people. He shouldn't be surprised she didn't catch on his implications, or that he enjoyed teasing her to see how dense she can be. Her reddening cheeks every time he called her 'Lady, Meow, Meow' were adorable to see.

"Not at all, ya know! I like how neatly you lined up the books, but I think I've told you that already?" He needed to distract her somehow and just have fun. Having a fun time with Sarada helped him a lot recently.

"Oh, no, no, no, no! This is a disaster!" she shouted, pointing at the box where the letters they read were inside. They weren't allowed to take this box, not to mention see the content inside.

"Don't panic, Sarada! I have a great idea about what to do with this small issue. You don't have to worry about anything, ya know," he reassured her. His idea wasn't that dangerous.

"I don't like how smug you look right now. I think you came up with the idea I won't like."

"Where is your sense of adventure? Jumping out from the window in your room and hiding the box outside isn't that bad. I'll catch you, kay?" Boruto had too much fun seeing how an expression on Sarada face turned from annoyed to terrified.

"Are you crazy?! There's no way I am jumping out of my window!" she shrieked out. Was he that much of a bully when he liked spending time with his friends? The answer was a resounding 'yes'.

"Don't worry, I am reasonably crazy," he decided to smile, hoping that he can put his plan into action.

Before Sarada had a chance, he ran up to her and snatched her into his arms. He gave her the box with the letters too when he was close to the window. Luckily for him, it was open, so climbing up on the windowsill wasn't that big of a problem. Faster than lighting, he jumped through the window still securely holding Sarada that let out the loudest scream in the entire history of their friendship. Just like Boruto predicted they landed safely nearby some trees. He decided to hold Sarada in his arms longer, considering how pale she was after the sudden jumping.

"See? I told you I am reasonably crazy." Boruto knew he played with fire here. However, it was so amusing to see the new expressions Sarada showed to him lately.

"You are a moron! I thought I will die and you'll drop me down at the last minute!" The tears streamed down her cheeks. Damn. He didn't want for her to cry.

"I am sorry. But isn't this whole experience valuable? Now we know that when we're jumping through the windows, I won't ever let you down!" he said, gently putting Sarada on the ground and giving her a head pat to calm her down.

"Let's hide the box somewhere. I didn't survive this whole ordeal for it to turn out to be useless!" Uh-oh, he made her angry, or maybe not? Maybe she likes him more than she admits and his words made her embarrassed. Ha! In his dreams.

"Yeah, let's hide it."

And so they did, the box that gained the nickname of 'I cannot believe we jumped through my window' from pretty shook Sarada because of Boruto executing his crazy idea.

"I don't understand why you have fangirls with that type of character," Sarada muttered, the night sky reflecting her beauty.

"Because I am great. Though, I don't care about fangirls opinions that much." Boruto cared just about the opinion of people that were close to him, he just left it unsaid unable to tell her such cheesy words.

"I thought so before too. That I don't care about the opinion of strangers, but by meeting you, I very soon discovered I lied to myself." Sarada's confessing something so personal wasn't a usual occurrence.

Boruto strangely didn't feel surprised by her sudden talkative mood. They both put it aside but were equally shocked by their parents hiding so many things written in those letters. Sliding into friendship mode they had, delayed the matters they had eventually face head-on. Like having an honest conversation with the family members, finding something he wants to do in the future, supporting Sarada, overcoming his fears towards the commitments in romantic relationships... All of this was honestly overwhelming and tiring.

Maybe that's why he wanted for Sarada to open-up to him so badly. He needed a person he can freely open up to without consuming him fear that his trust will be betrayed. Boruto knew his friends had his back, but his friendship with Shikadai and the rest of the group didn't feel the same after his break-up with Asami. Well, an exception was Mitsuki that joined the club after those events.

He was hopeless, wasn't he? Allowing for this irrational fear to get in the way of his friendship with Sarada. How could she open-up and trust him when he couldn't do it in return? Running away from his problems by jumping through the window together with Sarada cannot solve anything. She was right, he really was a moron.

"You lied to yourself? Really? What made you realise you were lying to yourself?" he asked, hiding his own inner struggle.

"Boruto, you know? Once I asked myself about the meaning of feelings." Sarada hands were shaking when she averted her eyes from him. "I was thinking it wasn't worth it. Acting on something unreliable as emotions... But I-I...," her sudden outburst didn't finish yet.

She looked preoccupied to convey what she means to him without lying. Boruto couldn't help but feel glad about it. That she wanted to be honest with him of all people in her life.

At the same time, a pang of guilt hit him when listening to her words. Isn't that something he wanted? For her to open up to him and not holding any punches? But what if she bottled so many things inside he wasn't aware of until now? What if she hates him for being a bad friend? Does Sarada really think her personal feelings won't matter to him, or anyone else?

His heart ached.

"I was taught by you to be honest with how I really feel and to act based on those emotions. Stop lying to myself I don't feel them. Being straightforward is something I admire about you." Her smile was like a wave that washed away all of his worries.

"Hey, Sarada?" Boruto longed to say these words to her for a long time. His cheeks heated up, hearing she admired him for being reckless. Gathering the courage to say something so cheesy wasn't like him at all!

"Yes?"

"Can we stand next to each other a little longer? I am glad out of all the people I've met you're my friend." Just a little while longer he wanted to savour the moment, where the feeling of peacefulness, remained in his heart.

"Sure, I am glad out of all the people I've met you ended up as my friend too."

Sarada's answer filled him with an unknown source of happiness. He didn't mind they will probably get a solid scolding from everything they did today from their parents. He wanted to stay here with her just a little longer, since having her by his side felt like he could face anything he worried about head-on. That feeling of blissfulness was the reason he realised he wanted to protect her.

This realisation made that peaceful moment more special to him. God, he really was an idiot. But that's a secret he doesn't plan to tell anyone anytime soon.

・・・・★・・・・★ ・・・・

AN: Hello, everyone!

This chapter is dedicated to all of my readers. ;) I cannot believe we're on the chapter nineteen. Soon we enter the round number of twenty! Thank you for your support now and in the future.

Your Clumsy Author - Karinrumi ;)

#GoF #BoruSara #boruto uzumaki #sarada uchiha #borutoxsarada #boruto - naruto next generations #Multi-chapter fics #high school au #romance #comedy #drama #fluff.

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froggybaek · 6 years

Text

healing - seo changbin

♛➩ genre: angst, mega fluff, a dash of suggestiveish content that lasts for .5 seconds, single dad!au

♛➩ pairing: fem!reader x changbin

♛➩ warnings: mentions of death, disease

♛➩ summary: you’ve known seo changbin since your high school years. back then, he was surrounded by proud teachers, parents, classmates, and a wonderful girlfriend; now, he only has his little bundle of joy, a cousin from australia who barely knows how to manage a microwave, and you.

♛➩ word count: 9.2k

Seo Changbin has always been an enigma.

While you hadn’t been as lucky as others in being able to claim that you had known the mysterious boy since your elementary school days, you were able to make it known to the few friends you had that you got to witness his heydays; namely the four year period of high school.

You had been in the same year as Changbin, hell you happened to share a couple of classes over those four years with him. Anytime you needed to interact with him, more so assigned projects and less actual friendship related endeavors, you would find yourself stunned with his sheer intellect and determination to get an assignment done with the highest marks possible. If it hadn’t been for his endearing persistence in your music theory class - well, you probably would’ve been gifted with a big, fat F on your final report card before graduation.

However, Seo Changbin was not only remarkably intelligent; he was also incredibly friendly and helpful to just about everyone. Some folks with sour expressions and singed hearts tried to put down his accomplishments and overwhelming popularity, making rumors that he only acted so kind because it would literally be his job in the future. Obviously they might have held a teaspoon of truth to their stingy words, but it was even more obvious that Changbin was just a good person in general.

He liked to volunteer in his very, very thin amount of spare time; there wasn’t one set space for him to go, he just kind of showed up - everywhere. One time, you had spotted him volunteering at an animal shelter, cooing at a three-legged dog while he cradled a malnourished looking kitten in his arms. Another occasion you’d seen him volunteering was after you’d visited your grandfather at the retirement center, only to enter the common area and watch with a warm smile as Changbin danced with a pair of graying women, who had been giggling like young schoolgirls.

So, that was one spectrum of the boy that most everyone knew about. Some claimed that he had to have a sort of photographic memory, since he apparently didn’t need to study all that much to ace his hardest classes; which included the terrifying likes of anatomy and advanced placement chemistry. Those who said that he didn’t study much tended to trail off and make small talk of how they thought he did producing of all things on the side. While you knew the dark haired boy had an augmented creative side, you also knew very well that anyone aspiring to become a medical student had to focus mostly on their coursework - even if they had an impeccably large IQ.

You figured that was why he was so kind, even during the most stressful weeks of school. After all, committing your future career to become a nurse or a doctor was a difficult task that would likely lead someone to deal with even more difficult people. He would have to train himself to be patient and understanding, right?

Well, you wouldn't know. For one, you weren't all too close with him to make any sort of claim about either him or his dreams. Secondly, you were veering a great distance away from anything related to the field of medicine - you just wanted a simple job that involved kids.

That isn't to say you wanted kids of your own anytime soon, you just happened to get along with the vast majority of them quite easily, and they were entertaining in themselves. Surely a teaching career wouldn't be too far off the mark.

In any case, it was easy to say that you and Changbin were miles apart - from what little you knew about him, that is.

And that gap was only made larger not even a few months after your graduation.

“Morning babe.” Mark Lee hummed as he walked into the classroom, or studio, for lack of a better term. The brunette boy carried not only his giant backpack that was filled to the brim with textbooks and art supplies, but also a handful of snacks and two cups of - honestly you weren't sure. He tended to randomly pick and choose the drinks you would share during art class, so you could never be too sure what the next beverage could be.

You offer your friend a small wave of greeting, holding a hand out to grab the black reusable bag and one of the drinks from his trembling hands while he struggled to sit down in the chair next to yours. “Good morning, glasses.”

He whined at your choice nickname for him - all the while pushing his wide glasses farther up the frame of his nose. “I - will ignore your crude and very unimaginative nickname for once, because I have some tea to spill-”

“Please, for my sanity and your own, never say that out loud again.” You murmur in a monotone voice, bringing the lid of the cup up to your lips and taking a quick sip.

Hmm... hot chocolate with marshmallows. Delicious.

“- as I was saying until I was rudely interrupted,” he continued without missing a beat, though you happened to catch how he beamed gleefully at your small thumbs up to thank him for the hot chocolate, “do you remember Seo Changbin from school? You know, the kid that got like, three scholarships to colleges in America?”

“Yeah, I remember him. Why?”

Mark plops down in his seat, rustling in his bag to dig out his art supplies before the bell rang. “I found out from Lucas that his girlfriend got pregnant maybe two or three months before our finals. She gave birth to their kid about a week ago and she uh -...” He trails off quietly, too quietly for your liking.

“What? Mark, I didn't catch that last part.”

He gulps and looks up from the depths of his heavy backpack, nervously nibbling on his bottom lip before he meets your confused gaze.

“She died during the delivery.”

————————————————————————

Finding out that someone you knew had passed away was never fun. Even if you barely knew them, just remembering that they had at some point been part of your life - that was enough to have you slumped over in your seat for the next few days in each and every class.

She had been bright and always so full of life, as much as a high school student could be, anyway. The girl had her life planned ahead for the next ten years, from schools, to parties, even to when she would get married; and she had wanted so desperately to marry Seo Changbin.

While no one had expected the pair to actually stay together for the past three years of life, they had stuck to it as best as they possibly could for a young, naïve couple. Sure, they did have their ups and downs, like the time where she and Changbin argued in the middle of lunch about how he forgot one of their date nights; but then again, what was a relationship if there weren't a few mishaps here and there?

Around the middle of senior year, rumors had started to spread like wildfire around the school. People were speculating if Changbin would go off to America for his studies and leave his girlfriend behind, or if he would stay at home in South Korea just to be with her. Others, the more pessimistic ones to say the least, pondered crudely if he would dump her and leave without another word to the foreign country for their schools.

From what Mark had told you, Changbin had been planning to stay with his girlfriend - in a long distance relationship, that is. She hadn't been too thrilled with the idea of him going alone with no “evidence,” so to speak, of their being in love. Apparently she had actually been getting ready to propose to him instead of the more common, traditional route.

She never got to propose.

Instead, she had fallen pregnant with his child unexpectedly. She had begged Changbin to stay so they both could be real parents to their child, and he had quietly agreed. By then, they had started to fall out of love, even with their unborn child resting in her belly for nine months.

And then... then she had died, leaving their newborn baby girl in the arms of a now lonely Seo Changbin.

After you figured you had somewhat recovered from the shocking news, just about two weeks later, you’d debated on personally calling or messaging the man to express your condolences. For hours you sat in the rickety chair that rested in front of your desk, staring blankly at the screen of your laptop. For hours your gaze flickered back and forth between the text box that indicated you wanted to message the man and the now empty profile of his social medias.

Once the fourth hour had passed, you gave up and stood up, stretching before you went to shut your laptop - then you thought about how you would feel in his situation.

You would wish for anyone to express their condolences, right?

Wouldn't you want to know that someone else cared, that someone else was there for you?

Then, still standing in quite the strange, hunched over position, you reopened your silver laptop and typed the first words that came to mind.

‘She was a wonderful person, you know. She would be so glad that your baby is safe with her father.’

————————————————————————

“I’m sorry, you did what now?”

“I said that I - well um, funny story, actually! I might have, possibly, maybe, perhaps... let Chenle and Jisung monitor the toddlers?”

You let out a deep sigh of pure disbelief, running a hand through your hair before you ended up losing what little sanity you could possibly have left after such a long day of work. “So... you're telling me that you let the two youngest volunteers, who are practically toddlers themselves, watch over our own toddlers all alone for the past hour?”

The brunette shifting on his feet in front of you nodded quickly, offering a nervous yet cheerful smile as if it could magically make you forgiven his less than intelligent decision.

“Mark, I know that they’re your friends and you trust them dearly, but as volunteers they aren’t allowed to be by themselves with any of the kids under eight years old.” You explained to your coworker and friend, feeling a drop of guilt when his lips turned into a classic pout and his eyes drooped from his scolding. “I won’t tell Jongdae this time, okay? Just go watch over those two and I’ll handle the front desk for you.”

He glances up at you from where he’d been staring sadly at the carpeted floor, his shining brown gaze brightening up again at your soft words. “R-really? You would take over my spot just so I don’t get in trouble?”

“You’ve covered for me god knows how many times, dude. Don’t worry about it. I’d supervise the little demons myself, but I kind of want to get some homework done while I can.” You admit with a careless shrug, moving forward to playfully ruffle his already messy brown hair. “Hurry up before he gets back and sees whatever mess they’ve probably made.”

The boy (well, technically “man,” but you couldn’t really see him as one since you were the same age and still mostly acted like willy teenagers) practically bounces on the heels of his feet, all the while showing you his undying appreciation by vigorously spurting out soft thank-you’s.

Once he shuts the white, wooden door painted with a daft excuse of a sunflower behind him and enters the toddler room, you walk over to the front desk of the daycare and slump over in the rolling chair. The material is a bit worn and not too comfortable, but it would suffice for the next couple of hours while you worked on some sociology homework that might have been a few days late.

Since it is only the middle of the day, just half an hour past lunchtime, you weren’t really expecting anyone to walk into the daycare. When the dingy bell hung above the front door let out an all too familiar, but also unexpected sound, you nearly jumped out of your skin in surprise.

Now stood in front of the front desk, just a good two feet away from you, stands a man who looks a tad familiar. His entire ensemble reminds you of a middle schooler who just found out about Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco, which probably would've made you snort in amusement at any other moment.

But this man - if he was one, since he looked eerily young, somewhat similar to how you viewed Mark Lee, pulled off the all black look perfectly. His black undershirt had an odd white signa, likely belonging to a business or brand, stitched into the presumed cotton material. The man wore worn, ink colored jeans that were somewhat baggy around his legs, but not sleazily slouched; and his undershirt was tucked into the waistband, too.

Clutching onto his leather jacket, which was also, unsurprisingly, a dark black hue, was a baby. No, not a toddler or a clingy child, but a baby who couldn’t be more than a few months old - not with how small and chubby its fingers were, and certainly not with how the poor man had dribbles of what looked like milk running down the shoulder of his jacket.

“Um - hi,” you breathe out after an awkward moment of silence, offering the tired looking man a warm smile, “how can I help you?”

“I - I was wondering if-” his words are cut off by a loud wail from the baby in his arms. Squirming about with the little tot, he clearly struggles to try and calm it down, hissing in pain when it gums on one of his fingers. “Shit - no, I mean shoot - do you guys w-watch over babies?”

The raven haired man continues to try and calm the baby down, but to no avail.

“We do, don't worry... not to pry, but are you - are you a new father?” The question slips past your lips before you can overthink them, as you usually do, according to most of your friends and coworkers. When he only nods in reply, you can’t help but chuckle softly under your breath.

The rolling chair slides backwards as you push yourself up from the bottom cushion, making an insignificant ‘thump’ against the back shelving unit. You walk out from behind the desk and end up right next to the panicking father, lips curled into a sweet smile. “Can I try something?”

He glances wearily between you and his crying baby, which did make you wonder what had to be going through his head if he was so hesitant to entrust his little one with a stranger even though he had first come inside just to make sure your center also took in babies.

“... sure, go ahead.” The stranger eventually caved and gave in, carefully handing off his precious little bundle of joy off to your waiting arms.

You’d handled babies countless times since you were the one in charge of them most of the time in the daycare, not to mention when you were younger you babysat the little ones quite often. So, handling this cute, wide-eyed baby was nothing foreign to you. Gently curling it up into the crook of your arms, you swayed back and forth like a ship at sea being swaddled by gentle ocean waves.

In no time at all, the baby had calmed down, its previous wailing cries now replaced by adorable cooing. “Boy or girl?” You ask the man quietly, still grinning warmly as your gaze met that of his baby’s.

“She’s a girl - her name is Eden.”

One of your eyebrows shoots up in surprise at the name, as it wasn’t natively Korean in any sense of the word. Seeing your interested and confused expression, the man rubs one of his arms and continues, “my cousin helped me name her. He’s Australian, so he kinda only gave me English names.”

“What about her mother? Did the missus not have any say in this matter?” You tease the stranger, looking over to him, expecting to see a flushed or embarrassed grimace on his tired features.

Yet, all you see is grief.

“Eden’s mother... she died giving birth to her.”

“I - I’m so sorry, sir,” you murmur sympathetically, furrowing your eyebrows at how strange it is to know of two cases such as his own in just the span of half a year, “I... well I wasn’t close to the mother or father, but I knew of a girl who died during childbirth as well. It’s absolutely awful.”

“Damn, I knew I looked different, but I didn't think it was that bad.” He snorts dryly, his deep brown eyes flickering all across your face.

Confusion etches itself across your features. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s me, Changbin. We uh, went to the same high school,” he explains to you, watching closely as your lips fall open into a surprised ‘oh’ shape, “you sent me a message ages ago, saying that... that she’d be happy since Eden still has her dad.”

He was right - he really had changed. Physically, that is.

When he walked in, you hadn't even been able to recognize the boy who just graduated along with the rest of your class a mere eight months ago. You were so used to his freshly shaven face and smooth, shining skin with full cheeks that reminded you of a junior named Han Jisung. Back then, he had short, black hair that was in an undercut, perfectly framing his face.

Now, Changbin had stubble that only added on to his tired persona, complimenting the faded purple bags sunken under his once bright, gleeful eyes. His cheeks, once round and full like a squirrel’s, were sharp and somehow sunken at the same time.

“Thank you, by the way,” Changbin muttered, “for the message. I mostly got half-assed texts saying they were sorry for my loss. Yeah, they meant well, but - no one besides you said anything about Eden only having me.”

“She’s very lucky you know,” you begin to reply, glancing back down at the baby girl staring up at you innocently, “to have someone like you as her father.”

“Someone... like me?”

You nod at his questioning, almost conflicted tone of voice. “Of course. From what I remember, the Seo Changbin I sort of knew in high school was so intelligent that he had over seven offers from universities around the world, just for medical school. He also volunteered, like, everywhere and made it his job to make sure everyone he met was happy.”

His eyebrows furrow as if he was in deep thought, clearly contemplating your kind, comforting words.

“I’m afraid to say it, but that side of me died a long time ago.” He replies shortly, coldly, leaving you no possible way to continue to conversation without it becoming awkward.

What had happened to him?

————————————————————————

Daycares were naturally very, very loud settings. You knew that, Mark knew that, just about everyone understood that single factor when signing up to work at the decently sized childcare center just down the street of the local elementary school.

That didn't mean that you were used to it, though.

“Eden? Eden - sweetie, we don’t eat crayons.” You exhale tiredly through your nose as you pick up the brunette haired girl in your arms once again, pushing aside the twinge of guilt that strikes your heart when she lets out a pitiful whine.

It was like she knew that she was your favorite of the bunch, always whining whenever you lightly scolded her for her wrongdoings. She was only a year and three months old, but she wasn’t lacking in the intellect department by any means. If anything, she had the mind of a two or three year old toddler, constantly testing your patience to see how far you would let her go.

Whilst you carry the girl in your arms, gently hoisting her up so her rounded chin rested on your shoulder, you could faintly hear Chenle and Jisung crying out over the most recent mess in the art room. From what Jaemin had told you, Eden had literally led a pack of older children into said art room and somehow found it in herself to convince them to paint - but not on the papers laid out appropriately on the desks, no; rather, they painted on the floor and the walls.

One of the older children, a six year old called Eunwoo, had promptly explained that Eden’s babbled words were law to them. She had pointed to the paint sets, then the walls, and let out a cute giggle followed by incoherent noises of pure joy. To them, that meant ‘paint everything you can!’

How her dad never gave into her oh so persuasive babbles, you would never know - simply because you occasionally fell for them, too.

“So she’s resorted to trying to snack on blue and green crayons, huh?”

Speak of the devil.

“She sure has. She has also become the leader of the other kids, according to my knowledge.” You laugh in an exhausted amusement, smiling tiredly as you turn to face Changbin himself.

He looked as utterly exhausted as you felt, truly. Not that you particularly blamed the man, since he had just arrived back from working at the mechanics shop, which was already a good hour drive away from the daycare center. And just this morning, he had to make a run to another part-time job he had at the gas station closest to the middle school a few blocks away.

To put it simply, he overworked himself, constantly. While his cousin’s parents from Australia did their best to send him checks every now and then, they did still have their own family to take care of - and neither his parents or the grandparents of Eden felt the need to support him.

It was awful and cruel, in your honest opinion; how both families treated their son and granddaughter, like they were sticks in the mud. Changbin’s parents claimed that he disappointed them the second they found out he was going to drop out of any scholarship opportunities to raise Eden, and truth be told her mother’s own parents were too stricken with grief to even look at her.

Since he had no time at all to actually go to school, Changbin ended up taking three different jobs all at once just so he could support his little ball of sunshine. Anyone could see the mental exhaustion that seemed to just radiate off of him most of the time - well, except when he was with his daughter.

Whenever he was able to have time with her, its like he had the whole world in the palms of his hands. Changbin would give up everything for Eden with no hesitation, even his own dignity and respect.

“Alright sunshine, you need to say sorry to Miss Y/N,” Changbin cooed to his little girl as he scooped her up carefully from your grasp, his previously cold, almost haunting gaze switching into one of warmth and pure love, “come on baby, say sorry.”

Eden parted her lips, and for a split second the two of you shared a look of excitement - would she finally say her first word?

Then a bit of drool dribbled down her chin, not a single word or even a babble to show that she had heard her father’s encouraging plights.

“Ah, f-fudge... totally not a bad word. Nope.” Changbin nearly missed cursing, having sheepishly caught sight of your narrowed eyes when he stuttered on the dreaded ‘f-word.’

“Once she starts picking up on the things you say - and almost say, Eden will only repeat whatever her dear dad says,” you hum knowingly as you scooch closer to the pair, gently wiping the drool off of the brunette baby’s chin, “hey, isn’t her doctor’s appointment today? Or am I confusing it with next Monday?”

The man in question is about to reply when you unconsciously use the dainty yellow tissue just on his daughter’s chin to wipe off the string of drool that had fallen onto his stained blue shirt. When he doesn’t respond for a moment, you tilt your head up and quickly recognize the faint flush to his cheeks.

You should probably move your hands off of his chest - which... was pretty broad; snap out of it!

Without a word you step back, nearly stumbling in your sudden moment of sheer embarrassment. As if he too had snapped out of his stunned daze, Changbin clears his throat and nods. “I - erm, yeah no; it’s today. I have to take her home and give us both a quick bath before we go, though.”

You nod your head, willing your cheeks to not flush a deep red color as he talks. Why in the world has he suddenly gotten you so flustered and riled up?

“Hopefully it’s just an ear infection and nothing too serious,” he added, “I really don’t know if I can handle more bills, you know?”

Eden wriggles in his arms, slowly becoming restless. He leans down and softly kisses her button-nose, a cute action that always resulted with the baby giggling and grasping at her father’s cheeks.

“I doubt it is anything serious, Changbin. Don’t forget, a lot of the kids tend to get some sort of pesky infection this time of year.” You try to reassure the worried, tense man, offering him a gentle smile when he glances back up from his daughter to you.

He pauses for a second, digesting your reassuring words before he mimics your small smile, a sight that was rare to see from the normally stoic man. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I guess it’s just the first time jitters, then.” Changbin chuckles softly, readjusting his now yawning child so she could rest her puffy face in the crook of his neck.

“Call m- I mean, call the front desk if she does have an infection, please. We want to keep everything extra sanitized if any of the kids get sick.”

Nice save.

His chapped lips twitch into a hint of an amused smirk upon catching wind of your stammer, but he doesn’t call you out on it; thankfully enough. “I will, don’t worry Y/N. Hopefully both of us will see you tomorrow.” He hums, using his fingers to guide Eden’s hand into making a tiny wave before they leave, the glass door swinging shut behind them.

————————————————————————

Two weeks have passed since then with no call from Changbin. You were a bit worried, to say the least, constantly waiting at the front desk for the call that should have gone through days ago. Your co-workers kept insisting that it was no big deal, that maybe she was sicker than believed and had to stay home while she recovered.

“Think about it, Y/N - he’s still pretty new at this whole dad thing. He probably got so worked up about making sure Eden is recovering well enough that he just... forgot to call.”

That was what Mark had said, but you just couldn’t shake this awful gut feeling stirring in your stomach; something felt wrong. You hoped dearly that you were wrong, obviously. You hoped and hoped and hoped that Changbin and Eden were just fine, maybe taking time off if she was, in fact, sick, or perhaps her dotting dad had randomly taken them off on a trip for whatever reason. While the former was less likely considering his financial issues, it was all your fried brain could possibly think of.

On the fourteenth day of playing the waiting game, you just about caved and looked into the records so you could potentially call Changbin yourself - but then the phone rings, startling you so much that you nearly toppled out of the rolling chair you’d been sat in the past three hours.

You lunge to the blue phone, though you don’t answer it until you manage to properly compose yourself - you didn’t know who the caller was, but you didn’t want said caller to hear your hitched breath and voice tainted with worry.

With another deep breath, you recollect yourself and bring the phone up to your ear. “H-hello, this is Chen’s Daycare Center! How may I help you?”

“Uh, is Y/N working today?” An unfamiliar voice rings out in the speaker, causing you to quirk an eyebrow, since it sounded a bit younger than you expected - and pretty damn deep, too. “I’m Seo Changbin’s cousin, he’s Seo Eden’s dad. This is kind of important.”

“Actually, I’m Y/N - you’re Felix, right? Changbin has mentioned you before.”

The boy breathes out in what sounds like relief on the other line. “Yeah, that’s me! I don’t really have a lot of time, sorry, but there’s something... well, not wrong, but - ah fuck, I’m so bad at this,” Felix huffs, pausing to collect the words he needed to say, “basically, Eden is sick. I’m watching her right now while Bin is working, and no one else will pick up their fucking phone. Could you maybe come by his apartment, please?”

Eden is sick.

Changbin left his cousin home alone to watch Eden - while she’s sick.

Eden is sick.

You would really have to pay Jaemin and Mark back after today. “Of course! What’s the address?”

————————————————————————

You couldn’t believe that you were standing right outside of Seo Changbin’s apartment. You couldn’t comprehend that you, of all people, were knocking on the front door, snorting in amusement at the deep accented voice of his own cousin calling out with a, “just a second!”

In the corner of your wandering gaze, you smile to yourself at the sight of colorful chalk strewn onto the concrete wall of the hallway on the second floor. It was evident that Eden had drawn the pastel pink and royal blue flower and sharp green grass, and it was even more obvious by the straighter, less messy lines of the bright yellow sun and poofy white clouds that her dad had drawn that section of the cute little portrait.

Eden, unlike the other rather mischievous kids at the daycare center, preferred to messily draw on the walls instead of the floor. This quirky little trait even transpired at home, as well.

You turn back to the front door when it finally swings open, revealing a boy who couldn’t have been a year older than you or Changbin. Felix - yes, that was his name, if you remembered correctly.

Even though he was a tad bit sweaty and clearly out of breath, Felix’s ginger hair with slightly darker brown roots was somehow swept into a perfect swoop, his freckled cheeks a little flushed and red.

How adorable.

“H-hi, you must be Y/N,” he breathed out a warm greeting, not hesitating to let you wander inside the apartment before he quietly closed and locked the front door behind you, “uh, b-before you do anything, I should exp-”

“Eden!” You hum in pure joy as you walk over to where the curly haired girl was sat on a wool carpet, her back facing you. You hadn’t meant to interrupt the poor boy, but going a solid two weeks without seeing the little tyke had deprived you more than you thought possible. “Hey sweetheart, it’s Miss Y/N!”

She didn’t turn at the sound of your voice.

Not wanting to startle her too much, figuring she just hadn’t been paying enough attention to hear your familiar, happy voice, you bend down behind her and try again. “Eden? Hey, it’s me! I’m going to help Felix watch over you for a while.”

No movement, no nothing - she just sat idly in the middle of the living room, quietly playing with her wooden blocks.

Slowly, you tap on the little girl’s shoulder, finally managing to catch her attention. She practically whipped her tiny body around in excitement, letting out oddball gurgles of joy. Holding her stubby arms out, she wiggled and tried to stand up on her own two feet so she could climb into your arms; but you beat her to it, swinging her up with a gleeful smile and cradling her in your arms.

Now content with the giggling baby in your grasp, you turn back to Felix, your own wide smile fading slightly at his remorseful frown.

“She uh... Eden... you remember how I told you she’s sick?” He asked you softly, stepping closer so he could hold out a finger to her, the both of you watching as she clings onto him.

You nod in reply, prompting him to continue. “The doctors say that she has m-meningitis - technically it’s just bacterial meningitis, so not totally fatal, thank god.” He forced out a dry laugh, crinkling his eyes at Eden as she begins to nibble on the end of his finger. “Apparently she’s had it for a while, but by the time we caught on to it, it was too late. S-she’s already lost a majority of her ability to hear, so she’s partially... deaf.”

Oh no.

“They prescribed some strong antibiotics that are helping her recover, but they can’t help with her deafness. She won’t go totally deaf, hopefully, but she’ll have to learn sign language and will need hearing aids. Bin’s been beating himself up about not catching it sooner, so he’s been shutting down... he only goes to work and comes home to be with her as much as possible.”

“That’s why he didn’t call,” you murmur quietly, looking back down to the gurgling baby in your arms, noting the lack of a hearing aid as of yet, “how is he holding up? Besides what you just told me.”

Felix’s shoulders sag at your question, not that he blamed you for asking. From what he’d heard from his older cousin, you were one of the only other people that he talked to frequently and trusted enough to take care of his daughter. Other than himself and a select few co-workers from his various jobs, Changbin didn’t socialize much.

He also knew that you’d taken a liking to Eden quickly, and that in turn the father and daughter duo had gotten used to you just as fast; that in itself was pretty rare, for the dad, anyway. When neither Woojin or Minho had answered his frantic calls, he looked through the slip of paper that his elder had left him in case he needed help with Eden. One of them had been labelled ‘Daycare - Y/N.’

“He hasn’t been doing great, if I’m being honest,” he muttered, “he doesn’t really trust anyone other than me to be patient with Eden, especially now that she has to have someone around willing to walk her through everything again. He actually told me that he was going to call you, but he also mentioned that you spoke about being a bit flunked with schoolwork recently.”

Stupid, stupid Changbin - why, you would hit him when he returned from work! You constantly reminded him that you, or more so the center, was always on call in case he or the other parents needed anything. That was pretty much the policy, courtesy of the founder, Kim Jongdae, or as the kids called him, Chen. While the kids were the main priority and focus, it was also common knowledge that a handful of parents (especially newer, less experienced ones) would drop by for some tips or hands on experience.

On the other hand, you were a little less agitated with his lack of calls because he’d considered your own schedule - which had been pretty hectic for a hot minute, as you did tell him one day, but that didn’t mean you were totally off the handle. He knew that you adored Eden, as well as the other kids, and that you’d drop everything if it meant helping them.

“If I’d known about all of this, I would’ve come over to help...” you grumble under your breath, now going to follow the footsteps of the Australian boy as he makes way towards the tiny kitchenette area.

Felix chuckles at your mildly annoyed words, going to toss what looked to be a burnt pancake in the trash. “You know, he said that you would be pissed once you found out. Says that you have this natural motherly side to you.”

You blush a bit at his amused comment, but don’t try to argue against it. After all, you supposed that’s why you did so well in the childcare field; you just really liked kids and went with their flow.

“He also said that was part of what he found super hot about you,” he continued, a smirk spreading across his plump lips when your jaw dropped in shock, “he’s always talking about you, or Eden - or about how, and I quote, ‘fucking sexy it is watching an intelligent, kind woman taking care of his babygirl,’ course he says... other things, too, but I don't dare to repeat those words around his own kid.”

In an attempt to ignore the furious red blush heating up your cheeks, you clear your throat and hastily change the subject. “I’m guessing you needed m-my help with cooking lunch?”

Felix, thankfully, doesn’t bring up your sudden subject change, instead nodding sheepishly in response to your question. “I guess Bin didn't mention it, thank god, but I kind of... sort of... suck ass at cooking. Really, I just shouldn't step into a kitchen, it’s that bad.”

“Okay, okay - I’m not the best, either, but I can make some amazing mashed potatoes. And, by the way - pancakes for lunch is a fantastic idea, but not for babies.” You tease the younger boy as you make your way to the refrigerator, preparing to make the three of you a semi-decent meal.

The ginger flushes at your lighthearted teasing, but doesn’t choose to retaliate. Instead, he carefully takes a babbling Eden from your arms, giving you more space to properly make their food.

“We’ll go watch some SpongeBob, or something. Thanks for cooking, Y/N!” He calls out as he saunters out of the kitchen, bouncing and cooing at the brunette tucked safely in his grasp.

You laugh to yourself, lightly shaking your head as you pull out your phone to make sure you’ve got everything to make your lunch.

————————————————————————

Six hours have passed since the three of you were plopped down in the kitchenette, seemingly squished against the back wall with a pink and white backsplash. The dining table was a hand-me-down, likely purchased from a flea market, but you supposed it only made the small apartment all the more lovable.

You and Felix got along quite well, truth be told; he was almost the polar opposite of his older cousin, in a permanent state of bright smiles and bubbly, deep laughs that reverberated throughout the walls of the Seo household. He told cheesy jokes and switched between English and Korean if he couldn’t recall a certain word - all in all, he was simply endearing.

For now, though, the hyper boy was crashing in Changbin’s bedroom. You’d told him to get some rest since he’d apparently been at the apartment since eight in the morning and it was ticking closer to six at night. He mentioned having early classes the next day, hence why you’d shooed him off into the bedroom.

Eden was currently passed out beside you on the lavender colored couch, her head nuzzled into a beaten up Munchlax plushie that she insisted on carrying with her the entire day after lunch. She called him “Gyu,” which wasn’t technically a real word from your knowledge, but it warmed your heart to know that she could still recognize the name of the doll and actually speak it aloud.

Like Felix had mentioned before, she wasn’t fully deaf, more so 75% at a loss of her hearing; she could make out some words well enough, but she would definitely need to know sign language sooner or later.

Which was why you were scrolling through a plethora of YouTube videos in the early hours of the night, eyeballing and saving the more reliable looking ones to a playlist you’d made just thirty minutes ago. They all addressed the topic of hearing loss, both partial and in full, and some had guides on how to sign things such as the alphabet or more specific words. You saved tons of videos, ranging from English sign language to Korean sign language - just in case.

Invested in your journey to saving as many useful videos as you possibly could, you don’t hear the distinct sound of keys jingling on the other side of the front door, nor do you hear said door quietly opening and closing.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice tears you out of your focused state, making you jump in surprise. “What... are you doing here?”

You tilt your head up from the bright screen of your phone, flushing slightly under Changbin’s tired yet inquisitive stare. “Felix - Felix called me earlier, said he needed help with Eden.” You breathe out quietly, almost inaudibly to the curious man in front of you.

Tired as he was, he still looked absolutely stunning. On Monday’s, he’d go to work in a car dealership instead of the mechanics shop downtown - meaning that he kind of had to dress a bit better than he usually did, in terms of professionalism.

He was clad in a somewhat scruffy black suit, fitted well to his body but a tad wrinkled from his day at work. He also sported black slacks and shiny shoes with a classic red tie; although you assumed it was one his daughter had pointed out while shopping, since it was adorned with white butterflies.

“Oh - s-so he probably told you about her, erm... problem.” Changbin stuttered out, beginning to unbutton the top of his suit, not noticing how your cheeks heated up at the innocent action.

You also stutter out a soft “yes” in reply, averting your gaze as he tosses the suit aside onto the arm of a stray chair nearby, revealing a tight-fitting white polo shirt.

“I... I would’ve called, I fucking swear, Y/N... I just didn't know what to say. I mean, how fucking bad of a dad must I appear to be, not knowing that my babygirl was suffering this entire time?” His voice cracks as he curses at himself, and for a split second he steps aside to crash into the wobbly chair; but by then you’ve shot up from your place on the plush couch, your fingers wrapped around his wrist to hold him in place.

“You are not a bad dad, Changbin; far from it, actually,” you retort quickly before he can argue back, reassuringly squeezing his wrist at the same time, “please, don’t beat yourself up over this. Eden needs you to be strong right now, more than ever. You’re her entire world, she can’t lose you because you wrongly blame yourself-”

And with that, he crumbles into your arms, breathing heavily as he finally, finally lets his walls down. The man, just barely touching twenty years of life, a single dad to the most beautiful little girl in the whole world, finally gives into his emotions.

You don’t even flinch at the feeling of a tear staining your neck, or at the feeling of the raven haired man sobbing quietly against your shoulder. Opting to release his wrist in favor of bringing him into a tight embrace, you soothingly rub on the back of his white polo shirt, uttering soft words of reassurance.

Neither of you notice, but Felix had woken up by the time Changbin had first started to rant; in fact, he’d been silently leaning against the frame of the hallway when his elder cousin, who he considered his brother, crashed into your arms and started crying.

Changbin needed someone to help him heal, and in Felix’s eyes, you were just the right person to do so.

————————————————————————

Changbin was no longer an enigma, in your eyes.

You found out a lot about Seo Changbin in the following months, more than you ever would have thought you would know, in all honesty.

Like... how the Munchlax plushie Eden practically stuck to like glue used to be his, and that he even used it during and after his high school years; he would’ve kept using it, too, if it hadn’t been for the fact that his daughter had claimed it so quickly after she’d been born.

You also learned that the raven haired man had just, always been expected to go into the medical field when he was growing up; he didn't quite resent that, he simply didn’t have the same burning passion for it as he did with producing his own music.

You loved his music, too; it was so raw and real to you, especially with the tracks he still hadn’t finished since he was so caught up with working to support himself and Eden. He had three that stood out to you, although they still weren’t titled, lest you count the numbers indicating the folders they were long since abandoned in.

The first one was about falling out of love, and you could only assume it retold the story of how he had slowly fallen out of love with the mother of his child. It wasn’t as solemn as it was angry, his words harsh yet heartfelt as he wrote out how he was so, so thankful to Eden’s mother for giving birth to her, gifting him with the most wonderful little girl in the universe. He was angry that he wasn’t “better” for her, that he couldn’t love her anymore the way she had so desperately loved him.

The second one was purely all about Eden, or as he called her, his miracle. Yes, being a single dad with little to no outside support brought a shit ton of stress into his previously relaxed, simple life, but he wouldn’t have had it any other way. He’d poured his soul into the parts he did actually finish, and you were sure that Eden would beg him to finish it one day.

The third one was definitely your favorite, though you weren’t quite sure why. Changbin had made the song in his own attempt to rekindle his joy for producing, you supposed. He referred to two people simply called “CB97″ and “J.ONE” a fair amount, citing them as the sole people who helped him grow a love for rapping and making music; perhaps they could be reunited, one day.

Something else that stood out to you, not about his music, but himself, was that Seo Changbin was a sensitive person, for lack of a better term.

When Eden has finally gotten her hearing aids, he teared up. Then, they were turned on and he called out to her, only to have her respond with a bright “dada!” Then he full on sobbed, grappling onto your arm in the doctor’s office as his babygirl was given the chance to properly hear the world again.

He also cried when Felix had to go back home to Australia for a month so he could finish his freshman year of college - only for both of you to find out that he was going to move to South Korea for the rest of his college years. He and a friend had rented out the lone apartment right under Changbin’s.

Even now, you could faintly recognize a small sniffle that escaped his otherwise quiet persona. The two of you were on your weekly “date night,” as Jisung and Chenle called it, though you hastily insisted otherwise; not that... you would have minded if it were true.

“Hey, Y/N?” He murmured softly to you in the middle of the chilly night, his hands tucked safely in the warm pockets of his gray hoodie while you walked side by side through the heart of the city.

It was a Saturday night, so obviously the sidewalks and streets were infested with loud crowds and bright, flashing neon lights. You both were just heading back to his apartment after a night of drinking at a quaint but lively bar that one of his friends owned, not totally drunk, but tipsy enough to stick close to each other to the point where your fingers would occasionally brush against his.

“Mm, yeah, Binnie?”

You didn't quite catch how his cheeks flushed in the pale moonlight, or how his breath momentarily hitched in his throat at the nickname. “I - do you -”

“Spit it out, Binnie - if you don’t say whatever it is you wanna say now, you’ll forget by the time we get back to the apartment.” You hummed knowingly, having gotten drunk with the man before; needless to say, he frequently forgot what he was going to say mid-sentence, or he just got off topic for no real rhyme or reason.

“... I was w-wondering, d’you want to move in, with me and Eden?” He blurted out suddenly, albeit softly, nervously, with a hint of a drunk stammer to his voice.

Now, to put it lightly, you were the complete opposite of Changbin when you were drunk; even mildly tipsy. While he would cut himself off and put his thoughts aside, you tended to be very, very blunt and straightforward.

“Sure, why not? Dunno where I’ll sleep, though.” You shrugged honestly, content with the little diddy you were humming under your breath.

Your partner pauses in the middle of the moving crowd, attracting a few disgruntled grumbles and curses as everyone forces themselves to snake around your bodies on the paved sidewalk. Noticing he’d fully stopped, you turn back around to meet his doe-eyed gaze, confusion plastered on your face. “What? Did I say something?”

“Y-you actually-? You really want to mo-move in with us?” He exhaled in disbelief, his airy breaths forming into a thin, transparent puff of chilled air.

Feeling much more confident in your slightly tipsy state, you march towards him, right in front of him, actually; and nod surely. “Mhm. Is that why you were sniffling a second ago? Because you were worried I’d say no or something?” You ask him innocently, only to giggle when he gulps and nods in reply. “Wow, you must be pretty dense, Binnie-”

“W-what?”

“Cause’ I really fucking like you, and Eden, obviously - you’re really attentive and a great dad, which is like, reaaally attractive. Oh -! Not to mention Eden is the cutest baby in the whole wide world!” You say with full confidence, lips curled into a sweet yet bold grin, stretching your arms out into the cold air just to further your point.

Without warning, Changbin’s hands latch themselves onto your waist before he manages to maneuver your back against an out-of-order vending machine. His chest presses against yours and his breaths fan out onto your parted lips.

“Good, cause’ I really fucking like you too.” Is the last thing he says before he smashes his lips against yours, melding them together even though you were both in public, pressed against a vending machine of all things.

But - you could’ve cared less.

From then on it’s a giant blur of motions, the last part you remember ending with his knee rubbing up between your thighs with his hands tangled in your hair.

————————————————————————

You wake up with a soft gasp, eyelids snapping open to be greeted with the sight of closed blinds and Changbin - wait, was that... Eden, tucked in between your bodies?

Your sudden sounds cause the man opposite of you to wake up with a low groan, his eyes much slower and reluctant to open. But when they do, his lips part to mimic your surprised gasp from mere seconds ago.

“The fuck did we do last night?” His voice comes out quiet and gravely, involuntarily making your poor heart pound wildly in your chest.

“I - I think we crashed as soon as we got back.” You answer him, gesturing between your bodies as you silently point out that the both of you were still very much clothed and, thankfully, not completely naked in any sense of the word.

He lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank fuck we didn’t, well, fuck. Not that... I would mind, but Felix would’ve killed me since he was stuck watching Eden last night.” Changbin corrects himself with a deep blush, looking down at the sleeping form tucked neatly beneath the giant gray blanket engulfing a majority of the bed.

You giggle at how he covered up his words, sleepily smiling at the flushed man.

There’s a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes following that instance, your eyes flickering all over his bare, somewhat bloated features. He had a hint of purple bags under his eyes, though they were much better if you were to compare them with the sagging of his eyelids from when you’d first met him almost a full year ago; met again, technically. There’s a blemish or two dotting his puffed, red cheeks, but it only added to his charm. Not to mention his adorable bedhead and morning voice.

“Did you - did you really mean what you said, last night?” Changbin eventually broke the silence, opening his eyes once more to blink and take in your calm demeanor. “Y’know, with... the whole ‘really fucking like me’ thing, and the moving in with us deal.”

It’s your turn to blush at his teasing words as he recalls your mildly drunken state from the night before, a small smirk gracing his sleepy features. “Of course I meant what I said, Binnie - to both things.” You reply honestly, shifting in his bed so you could carefully tug the comfy gray blanket under your chin and over Eden’s exposed shoulder to keep her nice and warm.

“Good - that’s, really good.” Is all he says, suddenly caught up with staring at your sweet smile and pink tinted cheeks. “God, I really want to kiss you again.” He mutters, brown eyes fixated on your lips.

“I want to kiss you too.” You hum quietly, drinking in the little sunlight that manages to peek through the mostly closed blinds, the shadows casting a warm glow onto his and Eden’s figures.

He nibbles on his bottom lip for a moment, knowing that neither of you would dare risk waking up Eden just for a quick peck or a lazy morning make-out session.

You shiver in anticipation when his fingers suddenly move to your side of the bed and clamp onto one of your hands, then you’re left to become a blushing mess as Changbin brings your cold knuckles up to his lips, pressing a warm, delicate kiss to your skin.

“I’m so glad that you’re here, love.”

“I am too, Binnie. I am too.”

end.

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