#I had classes earlier today so it took me a while to respond to this but it was such an enjoyable exercise - thank you for the ask!

[divorceblogger]

hope it isn’t weird to barge into yr dms re: the mythology metaphors, but yr post sparked a thought in me! idk too much about Marius’ timeline, but I believe he would have been a contemporary of Ovid (exiled in 8 AD). the pursuit of Daphne, Leda, and Ganymede are all in Ovid’s Metamorphoses — a LOT going on in the poem re: sexual violence’s transformative effects (and this feels possibly significant in the context of vampiric “turning” as a metamorphosis?). the marble statues make me think of Pygmalion & Galatea which is also another passage in Metamorphoses that has weird implications abt consent. i am going to try to flip thru the footnotes of my copy later bc i haven’t refreshed my memory on ovid in a hot minute

not at all, I love talking to people on here - and I never considered that angle but it seems so obvious in hindsight! marius is very much a product of and clings to the prevalent ideas of his time in a way that’s not very subtle at all, transferring his belief systems to various fledgling vampires and using controlled imposition of literacy & culture as a tool of subjugation (which is a pattern of behaviour louis also emulates with claudia in the books), and it reminded me of a specific passage from an article on pederastic relations that I found relevant to the larger conversation:

I haven’t read the metamorphoses yet myself so it’s interesting that you should bring up pygmalion and galatea because they’re mentioned in the vampire armand too (perhaps indicating a conscious intent to reference ovid?), but it wasn’t in a context that made sense to include in the other post. The transformative role that seems to be such a common theme associated with sexual violence is very much in line with what the books do otherwise too, I’d say - they label all human victims ‘brides’ which has certain implications for marital relations as a large for vampires who seem to develop very dysfunctional companionships; louis himself also describes the turning of a human by a vampire as a sexual act, and a mutual and I also recently discussed how claudia’s own turning seemed to draw on a lot of language used to describe assault.

this is also slightly less relevant, but in the continued context of violence imposed through a controlled parcelling out of literacy, I enjoyed drawing comparisons between lolita and the vampire armand, specifically looking into language as a tool of violence even if I don’t necessarily think anne wrote that with conscious intent.

[glissadia]

Upon Further Examination

A professor does her best to figure out why her student's ritual circle isn't working, and discovers that the issue may be a bit bigger than she thought. 6k words.

"Three. Two. One. Ignite. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Indicators. Four. Three. Two. One."

"Failed," Selin states in time with my counting, doing a halfway-decent job of masking her frustration and disappointment. I nod approvingly, as I’ve done each attempt, because it’s still important to acknowledge the adherence to procedure.

"Quench," I respond, picking my earlier cadence back up. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Release. One. Two. Disengage."

Selin steps back from the now-inert ritual circle and I step forward to check her work. Today I’m acting as her examiner, rather than my usual role as her mentor, so I’m supposed to keep my observations to myself. However, I think we’ve gotten past the point where I need to stick to the standard process.

"Perfect," I speak aloud, and Selin jumps slightly. "Your inscriptions are more than within tolerance for preciseness, you’re following your derived procedures to the letter, your timing would put the carillon tower to shame, and I can’t identify a single fault with your channeling."

"Wait, so I got the ritual right this time?" Selin asks, her voice equally confused and hopeful. "Then why didn’t it work?"

I shake my head.

"You got it right every time," I tell her. "Even the first two attempts, which I intentionally sabotaged without your notice, according to academy procedure. You corrected and compensated without prompting."

I don’t have to look at Selin to anticipate the indignant response that revelation will elicit, so I simply hold up my hand to silence her.

"It’s not the moon, it’s not ambient interference, and it’s sure as hell not my materials. It’s not your procedures, your written report has no problems on paper and I tested it last night in this very room, so it’s not the location either."

Sure enough, when I tested Selin’s ritual myself in preparation for today, the brilliant purple spark had appeared in midair and fragmented into responsive motes, just as she had designed it to do. By her own accounts it had worked just as well while she was developing it, so we should be seeing at least some sort of magical response from the ritual besides the barest, halfhearted ionizing glow coming from the air above the circle, and yet here we were, twenty-two attempts later. I would normally have to penalize her for taking this many attempts, but that part of the rubric was written under the assumption that failure would be due to something on the student’s part. This, however…

"So what is wrong with it, Professor?" Selin asks as she slumps down into one of the armchairs arranged against the wall of my workshop. "I know you’re not supposed to tell me until after the exam, but…"

"Nothing," I say as I sit down next to her, with a bit more grace. "Absolutely nothing at all, besides the fact that it is simply not working. Selin, I genuinely have no idea what to tell you. I’m half-tempted to just award you full marks and some extra credit on top of it and call it a day."

"Well don’t do that," she whines. "How am I supposed to call it a success if it doesn’t work when it’s supposed to?"

"You do realize most students wouldn’t hesitate to accept that offer, right?"

"Well there’s a reason you’re mentoring me and not them," Selin says, and I concede the point with a chuckle. The girl has a work ethic and level of tenacity I haven’t seen in years. What makes her stand out even more is the fact that when she was my student in introductory classes, I had initially assumed she would wash out of the program. It took her almost twice as long as most of the other students to get her fundamental spell weaving up to par, and her magic still has a tendency to try and run away from her in a way that’s amusingly familiar. But what she lacks in control, Selin more than makes up for with her sheer breadth of comprehension of theory. With time and effort, she’s grown to become the most promising student in her year, and I was quite excited to see what she came up with for her end-of-semester project. It was ambitious, sure, but pulling it off should be fully within her capabilities, and yet success has eluded her thus far today. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she refused to leave my quarters until the ritual succeeded, be it hours or until the end of the day or even longer. I myself would be remiss to end before she got it working, but at this point I genuinely have no idea what to do.

"Why don’t you take a break?" I suggest. "Just half an hour. You can ask Ember to make tea. I’ll stay here and work out the problem, then you can come back with a fresh mind and it’ll work this time."

I can tell Selin does not share my optimism, nor does she want to give up even temporarily, but exhaustion wins out and she nods, standing up and removing her apron and protective goggles before exiting the workshop. I remain, close my eyes, and focus my mind the problem at hand.

Fifteen minutes later and I’m only more frustrated. I tested this yesterday and it worked. There should be no effective difference between the two setups. What the hell is going on?

The softest, quietest tink of porcelain interrupts my thoughts, and I open my eyes to see Ember setting down a cup and saucer on the end table next to my chair. My maid’s lips quirk in dissatisfaction when she realizes that she wasn’t quite silent enough to go unnoticed, but quickly return to her usual warm smile.

"You’ll get me one of these days," I assure her, and she stifles an amused snort. "How’s Selin?"

"Antsy, but she’s staying in one place, at least," Ember responds. "I think the failure is getting to her."

"And to I as well," I sigh. "She’s executing the ritual even more precisely than I did, and nothing."

I pick up the cup from the saucer, then pause as I notice the contents and raise one eyebrow at Ember.

"What is hot cocoa if not tea made of chocolate steeped in milk?" she says, with an ever-so-slightly mischievous lilt to her voice. "I thought you both could use the comfort."

I roll my eyes, though there’s no real annoyance behind it. A small sip confirms that it’s been heated well beyond the boiling point, the enchantment on the cup preventing it from evaporating or scalding, and I breathe a sigh of contentment. She knows me too well.

"Would you like me to give it a look, my lady?" Ember asks. "Fresh eyes could spot something new, perhaps?"

"You’re welcome to, if you’d like," I tell her. I don’t honestly expect her to find anything, though not for any lack of faith on my part in my maid’s skill. I just can’t imagine there’s anything to find.

Ember walks around the outside of the ritual circle a few times, staring at it intently as I sip my cocoa. I try to keep thinking, picking apart the problem in different ways, but the answer continues to elude me. When Ember speaks up again, the distraction is very welcome.

"She’s using your mana siphon design. Integrated correctly, but still not standard. Is that a problem?"

"No, it should work just like the standard design for her. A bit more efficiently, even, which I assume is why she’s using it," I say. Ember knows this, of course, but it’s still good to talk things out. Maybe something will spark an epiphany.

"Hmm." She’s quiet for another moment. "And you recreated this last night exactly, including the siphon, correct?"

"It’s the design I have to grade, so naturally," I confirm. "It worked flawlessly, first try."

"Even with the compensation runes?"

I frown.

"I suppressed them temporarily, like I always do with that design. My magic only needs compensation when I’m reproducing the standard siphon design, you know this," I say, not entirely sure where she’s going with this. The runes hidden in the walls of my workshop and the classrooms I teach in are critical for ensuring rituals designed without my own little custom component actually function properly and don't just immediately fizzle out. My own magic doesn't play nicely with rituals, so any mana siphon attempting to use it to power one finds itself promptly overwhelmed unless it's built to handle that kind of mana (like my design is) or the volatility in my magic is compensated for, like the runes do.

"And they’re on now, because that’s their normal state," Ember hums. "Out of curiosity, what would happen if you tried this ritual with the compensation runes active?"

"Modifying the design to use a standard mana siphon? I can’t see any reason why I wouldn’t be able—"

"No," Ember cuts me off. "As implemented."

"It wouldn’t work, obviously. The siphon’s design is too specific for properly collecting my magic processed to behave like normal magic, it has to be either or. Standard siphons are more forgiving, but less efficient."

"So the siphon would get overloaded and fail relatively quickly?" she asks, raising an eyebrow at me.

"I can see where you’re going with this, but it’s wrong," I say, leaning forward in my chair and placing the now-empty cup back down on the saucer. "To the runes, normal mana might as well not exist. They wouldn’t do anything to Selin’s, she’s the one igniting the ritual, and the ritual isn’t tandem nor does it collect ambient mana. My magic isn’t affecting things at all, I’ve made sure of it."

"What if her magic needs to be compensated for?"

"I—"

The notion is ludicrous. So ludicrous that I start to respond without thinking, but then cut myself off. If I was the one doing the ritual, then yes, I’d need to suppress the runes in order for it to work, just like I did last night. I never designed my improved mana siphon to work with them, because there was absolutely no need to and it would have just complicated the inscription. If I still tried anyway, though… the siphon would eke out the barest amount of mana, then promptly give up. The distribution lines would do their best to convey the mana to the rest of the circle, which would… which wouldn’t even get through the first step of the intended output. No spark. It would try, though, and if I had to guess, that weak, mana-starved attempt would probably look just like a faint purple glow in the air, and nothing else.

It doesn’t make sense. It makes too much sense. It explains everything nicely and raises so many more questions. I desperately want to hang onto any possible evidence it’s not true, because it couldn’t be. I would know. And there’s no way. No way at all. But…

"But she’s human," I say, voice a little weaker and more unsure than I’d like. Ember simply raises an eyebrow again.

"You thought you were."

I sigh. I don’t want to acknowledge even the remotest possibility of Ember being right, but at my core I’m too much of a scientist to not at least attempt to test the possibility.

"It’s been long enough; she’ll be itching to try again," I say, defeated. "You go get her, I’ll turn off the compensation runes."

"Of course, my lady," my maid says, in that way she’s perfected that conveys very little of the deference the title would imply. She exits the workshop, and I get back to my feet, turning around and placing my hand on the wall. A twist of will sees the rune contained within made dormant for a time, and I walk to and repeat the process with the other five walls, finishing just as Selin rushes in with Ember behind her.

"What’d you figure out?" Selin asks excitedly, already throwing her apron back on and pulling her hair back. "Are we good to go?"

"There’s��� a chance we are," I hedge. "I don’t want you to get your hopes up, but I’ve tried something and there’s a very remote possibility it should work now, no other modifications necessary."

"Alright!" Selin cheers, tying the apron strings behind her back. "You don’t sound very hopeful, though."

"The lady has a tendency to temper her expectations to an unreasonable degree," Ember says, insolent little creature that she is. "I have faith in your abilities, Selin."

"Aw, thanks!" Selin says, grabbing the materials she needs for another attempt. "Anything I should do differently or just like I designed?"

"Just like you designed," I confirm. "And if this doesn’t work then please don’t feel discouraged."

"No promises!" she declares, working with remarkable efficiency. "Okay, prepped and reset for another go."

I give her work a cursory glance, but I have no doubt it’ll be perfect, just like all the other attempts. Alright. No time like the present.

"On my call," I say, and Selin nods. "Three. Two. One. Ignite."

Selin pours her magic into the circle once again, and the air above the ritual circle blooms, brilliant purple light coalescing into one single, shining point. I allow myself a fraction of a second to process, which is not nearly enough, but I have a job to do.

"Seven. Six. Five. Four," I call, and the spark fragments, much smaller points of light rapidly spreading out to fill the cylindrical space above the ritual circle. There must be thousands of them, and the density Selin has achieved is noticeably greater than what I managed last night with the exact same conditions. "Three. Two. One. Indicators. Four. Three. Two. One."

"Succeeded," Selin declares, voice full of pride. The results are plain to see, stabilizing well before the seven second mark and taking much less than four to interpret.

"Hold," I continue in cadence. "One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Stable."

Selin hesitantly sticks her hand into the field of purple, and the motes in a small radius around it drift towards her. She clenches her hand into a fist, and they rapidly move to coat her hand, before all suddenly jumping back into position when she opens her hand again. She beams at me.

"Well done," I say as I release a bit of the tension in my body, though not all of it, and catch Ember’s eye. She’s grinning at me very smugly, which I suppose is well-deserved. This… complicates things.

"Told you it works," Selin says, self-satisfaction oozing out of every pore. She pulls her hand back and the pinpricks of purple light stay where they are, having done their job in this demonstration.

"If you’ll recall, I never doubted that it should," I respond. Okay, time to start teasing this mystery apart. "Selin, your mana siphon. Why did you use my design over the standard one? It must have been harder to integrate."

"Huh? Oh, the siphon. Because the standard one sucks and yours is better?" Selin says as she pushes her goggles up to her forehead. Somehow I don’t think she means it solely as a compliment.

"It’s harder to inscribe than the standard version, though," I prompt her. "And reproducibility was one of the factors you were instructed to keep in mind when designing your project."

"Well yeah, of course I thought about that," she defends. "And I started with the usual one, like I’m supposed to, but I’m bad at inscribing it and I could never get it right so I just rebuilt the ritual around yours and I actually started getting results."

I freeze. She does not mean what I think she means. She can’t.

"What do you mean you’re bad at inscribing it?" I ask. "Your inscriptions are some of the most precise I’ve ever seen."

"Aww, thanks," Selin blushes. "And I mean I’m bad at it! I can only get it to work half the time, usually when you’re helping me. Anything that’s designed by you always works for me. It’s consistent!"

It’s consistent because I always deactivate the compensation runes in my classrooms and workshop when we’re working with rituals I’ve designed, because of the fact that they interfere with each other. And any time she’s tried a ritual with my mana siphon outside of those places, there aren’t runes to worry about. But no, that would mean…

"Selin, have you ever successfully completed a ritual using the standard siphon outside of this room or a classroom?"

"Uh, well… not really?" she admits sheepishly. Oh goddess. "I’ve just kinda taken to modifying the rituals when I’m at home, 'cause there isn’t an instructor there to tell me off for doing it wrong."

"You’re modifying rituals to include my mana siphon?" I ask, flabbergasted. "You can’t just put it in place of the old one; the integrations are completely different!"

"Uh, yeah?" Selin says, sounding confused. "It’s not that difficult to rework the distribution lines around it."

Yes it is. Yes it fucking is. I don’t say that to her, though, instead turning to the room’s other occupant, whose grin is almost too wide for her face at this point.

"Fine. Fine! You win, Ember," I declare, throwing my hands up in the air. "You were right, I was wrong. She can’t do rituals without compensating."

"I’m so glad your humility hasn’t left you, my lady," Ember beams. Selin, meanwhile, just looks confused.

"Sorry, 'compensating?'" she asks. "I’m not doing anything differently, as far as I know. What did you figure out? Why did it work this time?"

I sigh.

"You didn’t do anything different. It was a problem with my workshop, which I apologize for. But, we’re not quite done yet. This is not part of your exam, but I’d appreciate it if you humored me anyway. Light spell, as by-the-book as you can."

Selin’s confused expression only deepens, but she obliges me, holding up a hand and making a simple ball of light appear above it. It roils and shifts, maintaining a loosely spherical shape as it ebbs and flows. Selin’s magic has frequently expressed itself this way, and while I’ve drawn parallels to my own experiences, I never made the conclusion that it’s seeming like I should have.

"Hold it there, don’t lose focus," I instruct her as I walk back towards the wall. With a touch, I draw back out the mana keeping the rune within suppressed, fixing my eyes on the Selin’s light spell as I do so. It flickers, though not by much. I walk to two more walls and do the same thing, then return to my student. With half the runes in effect, the ball of light has calmed itself a bit, still far from static but significantly more under control. Selin looks to be concentrating hard on keeping it stable, her lips pursed, but I don’t offer her any insight, instead walking to the remaining three walls and reactivating the runes contained within. Walking back up, I can see that the little ball of light has become a perfect, static sphere, as textbook as I’ve ever seen. Selin looks up at me questioningly, but I preempt her with a question of my own.

"Are you sure you’re human?"

"What the hell kind of question is that?" she asks incredulously.

"Like I asked earlier, please humor me," I say patiently.

"I… yes?" she says, and I can tell she truly believes it. "There’s some elven blood on my dad’s side if you go back like eight generations, but that’s extremely diluted, I know how this works."

And indeed, it should not have this kind of effect oh her magic. But, what I’m asking about isn’t something brought about by genetics.

"Release and disengage the ritual at your leisure, then you two start cleaning up," I order. "I need to grab something. Ember, don’t bias her while I’m gone."

"Bias me?"

"My lady?"

"I’m doing a test," I state, and Ember’s eyes go wide.

"Hey wh—"

The rest of Selin’s confused exclamation is cut off as I abruptly turn on my heel and yank myself through space, the workshop around me immediately transitioning into a new, much larger space. Cavernous walls of rough-hewn rock, globes of magical light suspended from the very high ceiling, and approximately forty fireballs spontaneously generated and fired towards me by the wards the second I take a step forward. My stride doesn’t falter as they hit and harmlessly wash over me, my robes being enchanted to protect themselves and anything contained within the many pockets from flame. That doesn’t include the wearer, but, well. The day I can’t handle a bit of fire is the day I die.

I was lucky enough to find this cave a couple of centuries back, and promptly sealed it up and warded it to high heaven to prevent anyone else from doing so after me. If anyone else besides me or my staff tried to get in here, they’d be faced with a lot worse than just fireballs. They’re more of a precaution, anyway. Plus, the heat is nice. These mountains don’t have any geothermal activity, so the entire cave system has to be heated magically, which takes a lot of energy.

It doesn’t take me long to reach the cave’s main event, since while this chamber is absolutely massive, so is the pile of treasure it contains. For years, I never really understood the appeal of having a hoard, but the very first time I held a gemstone the size of an apple in my hands, I was hooked. That was a long, long, time ago, though, and now my trove has grown to a size even the most ascetic of my kin would salivate over. Not that they’ll ever get to see it, of course, nor will any humans. Very few people know my true identity, and I like it that way. I doubt my life of tenured pedagogy would be quite so peaceful if the rest of the staff knew there was anything more to me than an experienced noblewoman with a penchant for magical research and a slightly strange magical response to rituals. Anonymity holds power, in this world, which is one of the many reasons why part of me greatly dislikes the idea of potentially revealing myself. But, I’m forced to admit, if I’m correct, the alternative would be worse for Selin, and I like the poor girl far too much for that.

I spend around half an hour searching through the piles, examining each splotch of color poking out from in between pieces of gold from this century and many past. My search criteria is very specific, and it’s not like I can just pull some random ruby out and be done with it. I’m loathe to part with even a single piece from my collection, as any self-respecting dragon would be, but I know that if this test succeeds then there will be no way I’m getting this back. Finally, though, I spot it. A brilliant purple, Selin’s favorite color. Round, roughly cut (though that just adds charm, in my opinion), and large enough that it’s awkward to carry in only one hand. Corundum. It’s perfect. …Now I just have to find something to carry it in.

When I return to my workshop, a large felt bag clasped in my hands, my eyes barely have time to focus before I’m assaulted with a shrill exclamation.

"You can teleport!?" Selin yells, and I wince before schooling my expression.

"Were you waiting the entire time just to ask that?" I say tersely.

"Well yeah, you just disappeared so what else was I supposed to do after cleaning up?" Selin responds, and I am pleased to see the workshop is looking spotless. "Ember won’t even talk to me and I am still very confused as to what is going on."

"I apologize for leaving you in the dark, so to speak, but this is very important," I sigh. "Yes, I can teleport, it’s rather advanced magic and relatively inaccessible to most people, but I will teach you, should you desire. In any case, I think things will very soon become clear. Come."

I turn and walk towards the door, navigating down the hall and to the sitting room. As expected, Ember is waiting there, tea already prepared. Cinnamon this time, I can smell, not chocolate. I sit down on one of the chairs, bag in my lap, and motion for the other girls to do the same. Selin picks the chair opposite me, looking at me intently, while Ember picks the couch to the side of us. She always gets squirmy when she’s excited, and that’s quite evident now, despite her attempts to sit still.

"So, first things first," I begin. "Nothing you are about to see or hear is to be discussed outside of my quarters, and never with anyone besides me or my staff. Do you understand?"

"'Staff,' plural?" Selin says, raising an eyebrow and glancing at Ember. "Are there more?"

"Cinder and Tinder tend to the estate while I’m teaching; you’ll be introduced to them eventually," I elaborate, and before she can think too much on the names I continue. "Besides Ember and I, you will not breathe a word of this to anyone else. I repeat, do you understand?"

"Yes," Selin nods, and I can tell she means it. Everything that’s happening is much too intriguing for her to just walk away.

"Good," I say, then reach into the bag and tug it off of the gemstone contained within, watching Selin’s expression carefully. "Secondly, congratulations on passing your practical exam. As I said earlier, I will be awarding you full marks, plus extra credit."

As I reveal the giant purple corundum, I see the spark in Selin’s eyes, and my theory is confirmed. A bittersweet feeling washes over me at that. As much as I was enjoying the relatively solo life (well, as solo as a girl can be with three kobolds), it’s nice to know that I’ll be mentoring my favorite student for a good while longer yet. I stand up, holding the gem in both hands, and walk over to Selin, holding it out to her.

"A gift," I tell her. "And hopefully a fitting start to your collection."

Her eyes grow even wider than they already were, and she reaches up, almost reverently, taking the gemstone from my grasp. I feel a pang in my heart as it leaves my hands, but I push it down. This is necessary. I’m not going to let her wander, lost, like I did.

"I… I don’t know what to say," Selin starts as I walk back to my chair and sit down. "This is… this is too much. What even… what?"

"Purple corundum," I state matter-of-factly. "The same thing that rubies and sapphires are made of, just with a different name and color. Near flawless, as best I can tell. I’ll help you weigh and grade it later. You’ll want to know."

"Professor, this is… how much is this even worth?" Selin nearly whines, most of her sense of decorum leaving her. Which is understandable.

"Oh, I have no idea," I tell her, semi-honestly, then lean forward in my seat. "If it’s too much, then simply give it back. I’ll find you something more appropriate."

She looks at the gemstone for a long while, longer than she thinks, I’m sure. Then, very slowly, she brings it down to her chest, holding and hugging it despite the weight. I nod approvingly. There really was no chance of anything else.

"Then, thirdly, your ritual," I say, and I think I manage to recapture most of her attention. "Like I said, the problem was with my workshop, not you or your execution. I would like to once again apologize for causing that unnecessary stress."

"That’s… alright," Selin nods. "What was the problem, if you don’t mind me asking?"

"The answer is rather complicated, but I’ll do my best to explain," I start. "While my preferences lie in other fields, I do consider myself somewhat of an expert in ritual magic, and I’d hope my teaching position supports that assertion. This is in spite of a rather curious quirk of my magic, which interacts with most modern ritual designs in a way that precludes them from working. Unless, of course, the ritual circle utilizes the mana siphon I designed some two hundred years ago to address this very issue. You, Selin, have this same quirk."

"Okay, wait, slow down," she says. "I’ve seen you use the standard mana siphon before. I’ve used it before. And my ritual used yours, but it wasn’t working. Also, sorry, did you say two hundred years?"

"Young lady, you should know better than to ask about a woman’s age," I admonish her, and savor the wounded expression on her face for the couple of seconds I can manage to prevent my mouth from cracking into a smile. "But yes, I am significantly older than I look. And in regards to your other questions, there is more than one way to mitigate the effects of this quirk, which I had to do before I designed my own ritual components. Built into the walls of my workshop and classrooms are runes that, when activated, compensate for the volatility of my magic, forcing it to behave as normal to standard mana siphons."

Understanding begins to dawn on Selin’s face.

"So when you had me do the light spell and it got less and less chaotic…"

"The runes were processing and calming your magic as I activated them, yes."

"That… makes a surprising amount of sense," she says. "The standard siphon only working for me in the classrooms and your workshop, not at home. Wait, but what was the problem with my ritual, then? I was using your design, that takes care of the issue, you said."

"It does, yes," I nod. "The problem was that I, not knowing about your situation, left the runes activated for your exam. The siphon does not process my magic after it has been affected by the runes, due to the specificity of the design, and neither was it processing yours. When I deactivated the runes, as I do whenever I deal with rituals of my own design, that allowed your natural magic to fuel the ritual as normal, and thus leading to the success. The compensation runes have no effect whatsoever on magic without this quirk, so I did not expect them to have any effect on your performance."

"Huh," Selin responds, thoughtfully. "I assume you’re willing to show me the runes so I can use them myself?"

"I do plan on doing so," I nod affirmatively. "They’re not exactly simple, but I have no doubt you’ll be able to reproduce them with relatively little effort."

"Well, okay then!" she beams. "That’s good to know. Use your siphon when I can, use the runes for the standard version, don’t mix and match. That all seems pretty clear. I don’t really get why this is such a secret, though."

I sigh. Here’s where we get to the more significant part of this conversation.

"Selin, you are the twelfth person I have met in my life besides me with this condition. This is over many centuries, and I know there are a number more I have not met but experience the same thing, since it follows a very clear pattern. I hope you believe me when I tell you how rare this is, and that I am very confident when I say it is indicative of more overall characteristics of the person the volatile magic comes from. I was initially extremely unwilling to believe that the runes were responding to you, for the very simple reason that the runes do not respond to humans, nor most other races. Yet your magic is of the variety they were designed for, which only stems from one source."

"So, what are you saying?" she asks me, pulling the gemstone a little tighter against herself. "That I’m not human? How the hell could I not be?"

"In this case, it’s a matter of the soul," I tell her. "I do not know the exact mechanism behind it, for there are so few of us to be studied, and I am still not entirely sure how similar it is for other races. But, sometimes, very rarely, a person can be born with a soul not befitting of their body, and this leads to a mismatch. One that could potentially go unnoticed for their entire lives, given a lack of the right circumstances. Such a case is certainly a tragedy, which means that it is my responsibility to prevent the same from happening to you."

She takes a deep breath.

"Just… out with it. Stop dancing around whatever it is."

Well. Here we go.

"Selin, every single person whose magic behaves like this is a dragon."

To her credit, she doesn’t laugh.

"Bullshit," is her response, soft, too quickly. I say nothing, and simply draw my hand down my face, letting my human visage fall away and the deep blue scales of my true form shine through, though still in a somewhat humanoid shape. Selin gasps at my sudden reveal, then glances over to Ember, whose disguise falls away at the same time mine does, leaving a short orange kobold sitting on the couch instead, tail rapidly wagging. She’s still wearing a smaller version of her maid uniform, though, and waves happily to a stunned Selin.

"I hope you understand why I asked you to keep this a secret," I say, only managing to hide around half of the amusement I’m currently feeling. Not much of my body is visible with the robes, but it should certainly be enough.

"I… yes," Selin responds, finally managing to find her voice again. "But you’re… that’s not… I’m not…"

"Here’s a proposal for you," I say to her, leaning forward to give my folded-up wings some space. "Hand the stone back to me, or fail my class."

The immediate look of shock and betrayal on her face is just what I expected, so I escalate, holding out my scaled palm and summoning a roiling ball of flame above it.

"Hand the stone back to me, or die."

She tenses up, eyes narrowing. I know that look, and while it is what I’m fishing for, I don’t particularly feel like ruining my sitting room with a mage battle, so I extinguish the flame and raise both my palms up deferentially while lowering my head.

"Easy, easy," I placate, letting my human form wash back over me to break her concentration. She blinks, eyes refocusing, so that hopefully did the trick. "I’m not going to take it away, I promise. I’m sorry."

"G-good," Selin says. Then, after a moment, her eyes widen. "Wait, holy shit, I didn’t mean to… fuck, I am so sorry, um—"

I lower my left hand, letting the right one remain up to stop her.

"It’s exactly the reaction I was provoking; there’s no need to apologize," I assure her. "It’s natural to get defensive over items in your hoard."

"My hoard?" she asks incredulously. Then, softly. "Oh. Fuck."

I nod at her.

"Are things starting to make a bit more sense?"

"…Getting there," Selin says, demurely. "There’s still a lot I don’t understand."

"Well, we have all the time in the world to get to remedy that," I assure her. "And as it turns out, all the time is the world is going to be a lot longer for you than either of us thought."

"Aaaa, this is going to be so much fun!" Ember squeaks, and I can’t help but agree with her. Even Selin lets a hint of anticipation show through on her face, which makes my smile grow even wider.

Goodness, I love being a teacher.

[maitanii]

IT WASN'T LOVE. He wasn't in love. Ran Haitani, definitely, wasn't in love.

However, as his finger scrolled through the phone screen each night, attempting to delete some blurry photos where only the outline of a smile was discernible, laziness conveniently took hold, allowing those files to continue occupying space on the phone.

On closer inspection, you're not that pretty. He wouldn't even say you're pretty, just an ordinary girl. Those five freckles scattered across your cheeks aren't that beautiful, even though they reminded him of the constellations Rindou always points out when they travel to the countryside. The poorly painted nails, slightly bitten at the corners, are just another sign that you're a mess, although he always brings a nail file for you to use. And the small chip in your front teeth? Nothing out of the ordinary, but he was with you when the fall happened (and watched you cry yourself to sleep while holding you on the couch).

"Are you listening to me?"

"Loud and clear."

"Right." Returning to spear the fork into the salad, you made sure not to pick any tomatoes. Those were left for Ran. "When is the fight?"

"Tomorrow." Reaching for his cutlery, he began to stab at his food. "Are you worried?" he commented before starting to chew.

"Don't talk with food in your mouth, pig." Placing your face in your hands, you turned your head to look out the window.

"Okay."

The red lights from the opposite building reflected on your forehead. In just a minute, Ran had noticed you had gotten new highlights in your hair. He also spotted the small pimple that had popped up near your chin and the poorly applied concealer on it. The tension in your shoulders. And that you didn't want to look him in the eyes.

"What time is the fight tomorrow?" you asked as Ran's slender fingers played with the engraving on the fork.

Ask me not to go.

"At seven. But South always asks us to arrive earlier. Should we order dessert?"

Ask me not to go.

"Okay."

Come on, ask me not to go.

Taking his gaze away from some point on your face, he lowered his head. The ambient music in the restaurant slipped into the silence of the conversation. How could he fall in love with someone who worried about him getting hurt in a fight? Trust was the foundation of any relationship, right? Damn it.

The Mont Blanc and the cheesecake didn't last long on the table. In a fork battle, the desserts soon disappeared. Rindou had always suffered the consequences of stealing bites from his food, so why had he fought with you to accept eating the last piece of Mont Blanc?

"I have exams soon, and I'd like to get up early. Can you take me home?"

"Sure." Smiling, Ran thanked the waiter who cleared their plates (the first time he didn't thank him, you reproached him for it). "But you have to let me pay."

"No."

"Then I guess you'll have to walk home alone."

"No problem."

He sighed. Fighting was pointless. In all the years since your friendship began, you had never let him pay an entire bill. Not even when your ex-boyfriend left you and gave you several jars of ice cream could you avoid leaving some coins on a piece of furniture at his house. Or when he gave you that bouquet of flowers on Valentine's Day, and you left two boxes of chocolates on the backseat of the car.

The way back home was quiet. To no one's surprise, you chose the music, and he chose the topic of conversation. The guys from your economics class. The new mascara that didn't leave many clumps. The scholarship you had applied for months ago. He was so engrossed that he got distracted and ended up driving through several streets, prolonging the journey. Well, what a silly mistake.

"Thanks for bringing me home. And thanks for today." Raising your thumbs, you drew a slight smile on your face. "I needed to get out for a while."

"I know, you took too long to respond to my messages."

"I always do that."

"Not to an invitation to have dinner at your favorite restaurant."

"You know me so well." Pinching his cheeks between your fingers, you watched as he squinted his eyes.

Closing the car door, Ran watched as you began to search for the keys to the gate in your bag. Taking out his phone, he checked the messages he had received during dinner. Two taps on the door prevented him from replying to the meme Rindou had sent him. Your perfume once again invaded the interior of the car.

"Ran." The concern in your voice made him immediately turn his head. "I know it's a lot to ask, but please try not to go to the fight tomorrow. You can come up with any excuse and come to my house. But please, don't go."

A smile began to slowly form on his face.

He wasn't in love. But when he got home and wrote a message to South saying he had a fever, he had done it with immense joy in his heart. And when he went to bed and looked at the photos he never deleted from his gallery, he would write again in his notes the places he wanted to take you. But he wasn't in love because what he felt was beyond any of that."

[babyboybokuto]

Late Nights, Early Mornings

sero hanta x reader : fluff, getting to know each other, weed use

Note: This is my first x reader post so I tried my best. Comments are appreciated but please, be nice. Hope everyone enjoys.

It’s late, close to midnight, and you’re still wide awake. You’re not sure why; you felt tired earlier, but now you were wired. After tossing and turning for the past couple of hours with no success, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You used to be a regular smoker, but you have significantly cut back ever since you started hero training. You still happened to have some weed, so you decided to indulge yourself a bit. You got out of bed and quickly rolled a little joint before stepping onto your balcony. 

The cool night air felt good against your skin, and you quickly made a little spot for yourself on the floor, leaning back against the wall before you lit the joint. You took a deep inhale, savoring the feeling, before exhaling and watching the cloud of smoke roll away from you. You missed this, the relaxing sensation it brought. 

You took a few more hits before you saw your phone light up next to you. You grabbed it and checked your notifications, seeing a text from your neighbor, Sero. 

12:02 AM

“Do I smell what I think I smell 🤔” 

You smiled at the text before deciding to respond. 

12:03 AM

“That depends, do you like what you smell?” 

You watched as the 3 bubbles popped up, indicating he was typing. While you waited, you took another hit and started to feel the effects of the weed through your body. 

12:04 AM

“I like it very much; in fact, it almost feels like it’s calling my name”

You took no time to respond now, liking the idea of some company.

12:04 AM 

“Out on the balcony, feel free to join me”

A few seconds passed before you heard the sound of a door opening next to you. You turned your head and watched as Sero stepped out onto his own balcony. He smiled and waved at you before climbing onto the edge and hopping over to where you were sitting on your own balcony. He quickly made a spot for himself next to you.

“Hey, you.” he smiled.

“Hey,” you smiled back, handing him what was left of the joint. He took it and took a hit before exhaling and handing it back to you.

“So kind for sharing. So what's up, couldn’t sleep?” He questioned.

You shrugged, taking another hit. “Yeah, I don’t know. I was tired during class today, but then I was lying in bed and couldn’t fall asleep. Decided to indulge in this old habit to see if it helped.” 

Sero hummed, leaning back against the wall to make himself comfortable. You both continued to pass the joint back and forth in silence until it eventually burned out. Feeling good but still very much awake, you decided to roll another. 

“Holy shit, how did I not know you were like this?” Sero asked.

“How do you mean?” You questioned. 

“Like, first of all, you smoke. Check. Second of all, you actually know how to roll on your own. Double check.” He said, drawing phantom check marks in the air with his finger. 

You smiled, “And what exactly am I being checked off on?”

“Just a list of things I like about you,” Sero said without hesitation. You felt yourself blush at the comment, smiling and brushing it off. You finished rolling the new joint and handed it to him along with the lighter. 

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” You said. Sero took the materials from you, smiling,

“I’d love to know more.” 

You gave a genuine smile at this. You already had the tiniest (ok, BIG) crush on Sero for a while, so hearing him say these things made you feel giddy. Not knowing how to respond in the moment, you lightly shoved his shoulder and motioned for him to light the joint already. He chuckled and did exactly that. 

You both sat there together for a while longer, passing the joint back and forth while maintaining light conversation, which consisted of you and Sero asking each other questions back and forth, getting to know each other. You learned about each other's interests, music tastes, families, childhoods, and so much more; neither of you paying attention to the time. It was nice, and you really enjoyed getting to know this cute boy more. You didn’t realize it, but at some point in the night, you and Sero began to lean on each other, conversation dwindling slowly. 

Next thing you know, your alarm is going off, and you wake up in your bed. You quickly turn it off before checking your phone, seeing a text message from Sero. 

7:05 AM

“Morning! You fell asleep on my shoulder last night, so I carried you back into your room and then went back to mine. I had a lot of fun getting to know you :) we should definitely do it again sometime”

“P.S. I’ll roll for us next time ;)”

You smiled, holding your phone to your chest. You couldn’t believe that actually happened last night. You quickly screamed your emotions into your pillow before turning back over and proceeding to text Mina.

7:07 AM

“🚨🚨 MINA WAKE UP THERE’S BEEN AN UPDATE IN THE SCOTCH TAPE CHRONICLES🚨🚨” 

7:08 AM 

“NDCJSNC STFU RN SPILL OR ILL SCREAM”

You took some time to explain last night's events to her, both of you screaming over the developments. It had been so nice getting to know him, and you loved everything you learned. You already craved to know more and spend more time with him. You really couldn’t wait to see him again, and little did you know, he also couldn’t wait to see you.

[lilacmingi]

FORBIDDEN FOREST

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with me or any of my works

Pairing: Slytherin!Wooyoung x Gryffindor!fem reader

Word count: 3,662

Note: Reminder that this is an imagine from my Wattpad from 2023 so there will not be extra parts or continuations

"Woah." You gaped, taking a seat beside Wooyoung at the dining hall table.

His lengthy black hair was now accompanied with striking blonde on the lower layer.

"Oh, you noticed my hair?" He grinned, flipping it in a dramatic manner.

"It's hard not to."

"Do you like it?"

"I love it."

Wooyoung grinned brightly in response. "We were practicing the colovaria charm today and I thought why not leave my hair like it is."

"It suits you."

"You think so?"

You nodded, bringing your hand up to run your fingers through his hair, allowing the soft strands to pass between your digits as you admired the two-toned colors.

"It's very unique and stands out just like you."

Wooyoung started giggling, trying to hide the fact that your comment got him flustered, but he could feel his cheeks getting warm and no doubt turning pink. It didn't help that you were playing with his hair, making his heart do somersaults in his chest.

Wooyoung was a Slytherin and you were a Gryffindor, the two houses have had a long-standing rivalry for decades. Despite that, the two of you had become great friends—the best of friends, actually. Sure he could be a pain in the butt sometimes, but what friend isn't?

"You kinda look like an Oreo." You mentioned while looking at his new hair.

He looked at you quizzically. "What's an Oreo?"

Your mouth dropped open in complete and utter shock.

"Wooyoung, you need to get with it."

"What are you talking about? What's an Oreo?"

"If you want to know, meet me in the North Tower this afternoon after your last class."

"Okay?"

Later that day, Wooyoung met you in the North Tower as you had requested earlier during lunch. He found you standing there patiently, waiting for his arrival.

"Okay, I'm here. Now what?"

"Sit down."

The both of you took a seat on the stone flooring of the tower and you pulled out a package of Oreos, placing it on the ground before carefully pulling back the plastic seal.

Wooyoung reached inside and retrieved one of the black and white treats, examining it for a moment.

"They're cookies." He noted.

"Yes."

Wooyoung started to eat the small snack but before he could, you smacked it out of his hand, sending it right out one of the tower's archways.

"No."

"What was that for?" He whined.

"You're doing it wrong." You told him, pulling a thermos out of your bag. "If you're going to experience Oreos you have to do it properly."

Wooyoung watched as you unscrewed the cap that doubled as a cup, pouring something into it and handing it over.

"It's... milk."

"Exactly." You responded, handing him a new cookie.

He sat there, holding both things in his hands, not really knowing what to do.

"You dip it." You told him, proceeding to mimic the actions.

When he didn't budge, you reached out and grabbed his wrists, forcing him to dunk the cookie into the milk.

"Now, leave it for a few seconds, but not too long. There's a science to this."

You waited for just a brief moment before nodding, giving him the green light. He excitedly pulled the cookie out of the milk and took a bite, his eyes widening almost instantly.

"These are amazing!" He gasped. "Is this what muggles like to eat?"

"Yep! Half-bloods like me get the best of both worlds." You grinned proudly, resting your arms behind your head while you gloated.

Originally, you thought introducing Wooyoung to Oreos was a great idea but you're afraid you started something because he had unknowingly finished the remainder of the pack.

"Wooyoung, that was supposed to last me the whole month. I won't be able to get any more until my parents send some next month."

"Sorry." He grinned bashfully. "They're just so good."

You couldn't be mad at him, nor could you hold back the small triumphant grin that played at your lips.

"I know right?"

You started tidying everything up, putting a cap on your now empty thermos and putting any trash into your bag to toss later.

"Now you know why I compared your hair to an Oreo." You smiled, reaching over to brush Wooyoung's hair back. "I hope you keep it like this for a while."

That was two months ago and his hair has remained the same color ever since.

The both of you sat in the study hall poring over transfiguration textbooks before class. Wooyoung's fingertip ghosted across the paper as he reread the same paragraph over and over, stopping every few seconds to push his hair away from his face, the long, stubborn strands coming untucked and falling down in his line of sight, pestering him. You noticed this and tugged off the hair tie you conveniently kept around your wrist, moving over to him. He flinched slightly as your fingers raked through his hair, pulling it away from his face.

"Here." You murmured.

Wooyoung's eyelids fluttered closed in response to your digits running through his hair, his heart hammering against his rib cage. You worked quietly, taking the top layer of his two-toned hair and tying it into a small ponytail so that it would stay out of his way.

"There. That should help."

As you sat back down, Wooyoung's hand came up to feel the layer of hair that had been secured at the top of his head.

"Thanks."

When you tied his hair back, you thought you were doing him a favor, which you were, but the hairstyle only made your heart jump. He looked way too good.

Once it was nearing time for class to start, the both of you gathered your things and headed in the direction of the transfiguration classroom.

"We should do something fun after school." Wooyoung spoke up.

"Like what?"

Wooyoung's definition of fun was usually something that could get you guys expelled. Though, it never happened and he somehow always managed to keep both of you out of detention, you despised almost every "fun" idea he had.

"I think I'll pass."

"Why?" He frowned.

"You know why."

How on earth did you end up end up here?

Jung Wooyoung, that's how.

Your mischievous Slytherin friend insisted on taking a walk, but of course it wasn't a normal walk. Nothing with Jung Wooyoung is ever normal; he's always got something up his sleeve. That's how you ended up standing at the tree line of the Forbidden Forest, your trouble-making counterpart continuing towards the cluster of trees with no signs of stopping.

"Wooyoung!" You hissed, causing him to pause. "What on earth are we doing out here?"

"Taking a walk." He answered casually.

"We are not just taking a walk. Why did you bring me here?"

"To explore."

"Explore?" You parroted in disbelief. "No, no. There is no 'exploring' the Forbidden Forest. This could get us detention—no, this could get us expelled, Wooyoung. Have you lost your mind?"

"Not at all."

"I'm not going." You crossed your arms.

"Oh, come on. Don't be a party pooper."

"I said I'm not going." You repeated more firmly to let him know you wouldn't be swayed.

"We're just gonna walk around for a while, that's all. There's nothing to worry about."

"There's so much to worry about. Expulsion, getting lost, getting injured, attacked, eaten."

You listed, counting on your fingers.

He raised a brow. "Are you done?"

"Really? You're not concerned about any of this?"

"No, not really."

"Get back here." You pointed to the spot beside you.

"No."

"Wooyoung."

He started walking backwards into the forest, obviously out of spite.

"Oh no. Someone must have cast a spell on me. My legs can't stop moving." He feigned concern.

"Wooyoung, stop right now." You hissed.

"I can't!"

You hurriedly glanced around to make sure no one else was outside.

"You're going to get us in trouble." You whisper-yelled.

"My legs are moving on their own, Y/n. I'm completely helpless."

Giving one last hurried glance at your surroundings, you rushed forward, muttering under your breath about Wooyoung being obnoxious and how you're going to get detention.

"I hate you so much." You grumbled, trudging behind him.

"Do you?"

"Right now I do."

Your eyes darted about as you crossed the dirt floor of the forest, hoping nothing would jump out.

"This place is so cool." He marveled.

"If by cool you mean deadly and forbidden, then yes, it's very cool."

You couldn't see Wooyoung's face, but you knew he rolled his eyes at your snarky remark.

"What is it that you're hoping to find out here?" You questioned.

"Nothing. I just wanted to explore and look around."

He was your best friend and yes you liked him, but he could be unbearably obnoxious sometimes, like right now.

"Have you ever heard of curiosity killed the cat?" You questioned.

"Have you ever heard of Schrödinger's cat?" He shot back.

"Yes, but the whole point of that theory is if you don't open the box the cat could be dead or alive and you'll never really know. You just stay curious."

"Yeah and I'm choosing to open that box."

Idiot. You thought.

As much as you wanted to turn around and leave, you couldn't possibly abandon Wooyoung, especially in the Forbidden Forest. If something happened to him you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself.

"See? It's not so bad." Wooyoung grinned after you had been walking for a few minutes.

The snap of a twig echoed through the forest, more than likely indicating that something deep within the cluster of moss-covered trees was lurking, watching... waiting.

"What was that?" You spun around in the direction of the noise.

"What was what?"

"Wooyoung, I just heard something."

"You're just imagining." He waved a dismissive hand, walking further ahead.

"Hey! Don't leave me back here." You scurried forward.

"You scared?" He taunted. "Don't worry, you can hold onto me if you're afraid."

"Now's not the time for that." You scolded while your frantic eyes moved about your surroundings. "Something's out there."

"Nothing's out there."

"Hm, let's see: Giant spiders, centaurs, thestrals, hippogriffs, a werewolf."

"The werewolf is just a rumor."

"You don't know that."

He only shrugged and went on his merry way.

"I'm not trying to get eaten." You added. "We should go back."

"You worry too much."

"And you don't worry enough."

"We'll walk a little further and then go. How's that?" He attempted to strike up a deal.

"I'd rather go now."

"It's my final offer. Take it or leave it, Y/n."

"Fine." You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as you picked up the pace to try and keep close to Wooyoung.

You had no choice but to stick by him since he was the only other human being around. If the two of you got separated you were screwed.

Leaves rustling in the distance behind you grabbed the attention of both you and Wooyoung.

"Did you hear that?" You asked pointedly.

"I did." He came to a stop, looking back in the direction you two had just came from. "It's probably nothing."

"Nothing? Wooyoung, there's something out there. We need to leave now."

Before he could respond there was more rustling in the distance, this time it actually seemed to make Wooyoung stiffen.

"Run."

"What?"

"Run!" He repeated, grabbing your wrist and pulling you deeper into the forest.

You didn't know what you were running from, but you didn't want to find out. You were thankful for Wooyoung's very brief moment of rationality, however, it seemed it was a bit too late. You had your chance to leave before something caught sight, or scent, of the both of you and you didn't take it.

"Over here." Wooyoung pointed to a nearby tree. "There are some lower hanging branches, we can use them to climb up."

He hurried over to the trunk before kneeling down, patting his knee. "Go on."

Without giving it a second thought, you stepped up onto his leg and reached for the closest branch grabbing onto it and using it to pull yourself up.

You didn't have the greatest upper body strength but considering the situation, the fear gave you a sudden adrenaline boost to climb. Grunts left you as you continued latching onto branches, using them as leverage to heave yourself up. It seemed Wooyoung wasn't far behind, as you could hear his grunts.

"That limb on the right should be fine." He stated from behind you.

Desperate, you listened to him and heaved yourself onto the large limb, helping Wooyoung onto it once he had climbed high enough.

"Not so bad, huh?" You asked mockingly, referring to his earlier comment as you huffed, trying to catch your breath and calm your racing heart.

"Okay so maybe I was wrong."

"Maybe? Wooyoung, we're stuck in a tree and there's something lurking down there."

"At least we're up here where it's safe."

"And what if whatever's out there can fly or has claws to climb a tree, hm?"

He blinked a few times before answering.

"We have magic. We can zap it if it gets too close."

You took in a very deep breath before letting it out slowly, trying your best to calm your nerves. How could he be so nonchalant in a situation like this?

"You know how we were talking about Schrödinger's cat earlier?" You asked.

"Yeah."

"You shouldn't have opened the box." You smacked him upside the back of his head.

"Ow." He rubbed his scalp. "What was that for?"

"Oh I don't know, maybe it's for dragging me into the Forbidden Forest."

"You need to loosen up, Y/n."

"Loosen up?" You laughed loudly. "How can I when there's something down there that more than likely wants to eat us?"

"Look, we just need to wait up here for a little while and then we'll go."

"How will you know it's safe?"

"We just need to wait and see."

Though you shook your head in disapproval, that seemed to be the only solution at the moment—wait it out. Neither of you were equipped to battle a magical beast and you definitely weren't ready to risk losing your life by getting down from the tree and making a break for it.

Wooyoung let out a long sigh, boredom quickly setting in. His legs swung back and forth while his eyes looked around at the surrounding trees, biding his time by seeing how many he could count. He had gotten to twenty-six when he lost count and had to start over.

Your legs unconsciously moved back and forth in the same rhythm as Wooyoung's while you too tried to pass the time, looking for something to distract you for a short period of time. Your wandering gaze turned to your troublemaker friend while he was occupied, your eyes taking in his features, moving down to linger on the mole adorning his lips, that stupid mole... the one you'd always secretly wanted to kiss. Your friendship with Wooyoung had its ups and downs, some moments were filled with you silently swooning over him while others were spent trying to talk him out of doing something stupid and dragging you with him. Despite how many sticky situations you'd been in with him, they never pushed you away or made you want to stop being friends with him. Maybe that just proved how much you loved him.

It then dawned on you that someone would eventually notice the both of you are missing. Someone would have to search for you and Wooyoung. What if it was a teacher and they came out here looking for you? You didn't like the idea of getting caught by a professor because there was no telling what consequences you'd face, but you also weren't keen on staying up in the tree for the rest of the day.

"If someone happens to come walking by we'll be spotted immediately because of your two-toned hair." You complained, muttering a quiet, "Your stupid hair."

"I thought you liked it." He stated, referring to when he first colored it.

"I do. That's why it's stupid."

"What do you mean?"

"I like it so much. Your long, stupid hair and your stupid face... and you in general."

A small, amused grin tugged at his full lips.

"What are you trying to say, Y/n?"

"I'm not trying to say anything."

You really weren't in the mood for his teasing.

"Are you sure?" He inquired, tilting his head.

"Yes." You responded a little too quickly, turning away from him as warmth tickled your cheeks.

Wooyoung took delight in seeing you flustered, taking the opportunity to tease you further.

Your gaze stayed locked on a distant tree that suddenly became very interesting. Your mischievous friend leaned in, dragging his bottom lip against the shell of your ear.

"You can say you like me." His warm breath brushed against your ear sending a rush of chills across your skin.

"Quit it." You pulled away from him, careful not to jerk too quickly and go plummeting to the ground.

He seemed to back off after that, which you were grateful for.

You peered down from the large tree limb the two of you were perched on, becoming slightly dizzy at the vast distance between you and the ground.

"Hey." Wooyoung spoke up quietly, gaining your attention.

"What?" When you looked up at him, his face was close to yours—too close.

"Let's kiss."

"What?"

"Kissing in the Forbidden Forest is kinda romantic, don't you think?"

"Actually, I think it's just another way to get detentio-"

Wooyoung's lips shut you up, cutting you off as he kissed you. Your body stilled, eyes blown wide in surprise at his actions.

It took your brain a moment to process what was happening and even then, you couldn't figure out how to respond. Wooyoung's hand came up to grab the back of your neck, keeping your mouths firmly connected as he continued kissing you.

Then ever so slowly, your eyelids began to slide shut while you reciprocated his actions and started to kiss back. Your hands made their way to his hair, letting your fingers tangle themselves in the lengthy strands, really letting yourself feel the softness of his locks. However, the top half of his hair was still tied up from earlier, so you couldn't exactly get the full experience.

Without parting ways, you felt for the ponytail and pulled the elastic out, successfully freeing the rest of his hair so you could bury your digits in it. Wooyoung let out a small noise against your lips when you grabbed a handful of his hair, the sound sending a rush of butterflies into your stomach. You took another handful of his two-toned locks, tugging lightly at the roots so you could hear that beautiful sound again. This time, the noise was deeper, a low groan that vibrated against your lips.

Wooyoung wished he could pull you closer and hold your body flush against his like he wanted to, but the fact that you were both in a tree prevented him from doing so. Instead, he kept one hand around the back of your neck, the other wrapping around your waist.

Squeaky laughter filled the air, the sudden high-pitch sound causing you and Wooyoung to part ways, ending your steamy kiss. Peering below, you found San, a friend of both yours and Wooyoung's, standing at the base of the tree laughing loudly and clutching his stomach.

"San!" You yelped in surprise.

"Y/n and Wooyoung sitting in a tree k-i-s-s-i-n-g." He sang, dancing in place.

"Knock it off!" Wooyoung hissed, his ears turning red from embarrassment.

"I've been looking everywhere for you guys."

You exchanged glances with Wooyoung.

"You have?"

"Yeah. I thought I saw you guys come up this way so I followed you."

Your shoulders sagged in relief. It wasn't a creature that you'd heard, it was San.

Wooyoung then burst out into a fit of laughter.

"We were hiding from San this whole time. Isn't that funny?"

You let out a sigh. "Let's just get out of here."

Carefully, you made your way down the large tree, placing your foot on each branch in a diligent manner as you slowly reached the forest floor.

"I've never been so grateful to be on solid ground." You commented. "I'm so happy I could kiss it."

"Why kiss the ground when you can kiss Wooyoung?" San remarked with a cheeky smirk.

"Shut it." Wooyoung hissed, elbowing his fellow Slytherin in the side, earning a loud ack! from him in response.

San pouted, rubbing his side to soothe it.

"Fine. I'll walk ahead and let you two have your time alone."

You and Wooyoung stood and watched as he made his way down the faint trail in the forest, the both of you following a few moments after, making sure to keep a few feet of space between the two of you and San.

"So." Wooyoung murmured.

"So." You repeated.

"That kiss was something, huh?"

"Yeah. It was."

You mentally slapped yourself for sounding so stupid. Could you not have come up with a better response?

"I liked it." You spoke up.

"Me too." He agreed quietly.

You found it just the slightest bit endearing that he was so bold just moments earlier and now he was being timid, unable to look at you without his cheeks and ears turning red.

"If it wasn't already obvious, I like you." He blurted.

You huffed out a chortle. "If it wasn't already obvious, I like you too."

Wooyoung pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, suppressing a smile.

"I'm still mad at you for dragging me out here though." You added.

"But it got us to confess to each other so it obviously wasn't all bad."

"I suppose."

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Jongho

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny [tag list closed. check availability on my pinned post]

[kickingitwithkirk]

Paschal Moon 2.0 -1/2

Summary: Jensen finds love the second time around can be bumpier than an armadillo-laden roadway in Texas.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Fiancé!Reader

WC: 2120

Warnings: fair amount of drinking and flangst, relationships are hard, insecurities, cursing, sexy teasing, arguments, family issues, reader still saying shit like me IRL

*Please read Paschal Moon first. This story is a continuation of it.

A/N: It's been a minute since I've been up to writing after Covid kicked my arse, but I had this sequel idea bouncing around and splitting into two parts.

A/N II: I based readers home on this property I’d love to live on in Utley, Tx

A/N III: This is a work of fiction, and no intentional disrespect to the real-life persons contained within.

Square Filled: @jacklesversebingo -“I’ll always take care of you as long as you need me” in bold @j3bingo -Foreplay

*Moldavite

*divider by @firefly-graphics

*no Beta-all mistakes are mine

*photos found online

The screen doors creaking made Jensen look up from the sheet music he was working on and saw his fiancée couldn't help but smile. Six months ago, he was so deep in divorce drama that it was providence meeting this nerd-hot astronomy professor who lives in the boonies.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, sitting his guitar on the couch, expecting her to reciprocate, but she just walked through the kitchen door. Okay, that’s not good, Jensen thought. Crossing the main room, he found Y/N’s messenger bag lying on the floor, her jacket carelessly tossed on top, and shoes kicked in opposite directions.

Jensen heard a cabinet door slam shut in the shoebox-sized kitchen as he gathered the items and placed them in their usual spots before entering the kitchen to find Y/N leaning against the old butcher block countertop with a finger crooked in a bottle of Fireball Whiskey's handle, chugging it like an old moonshiner made him remark, “Guess you've had a day.”

Pulling off she bitterly responds: “It’s been crapdamntastic. And how was yours, dear?” This shocks her fiancé. Y/N never called him that, once saying the endearment had a negative connotation from her childhood when she suddenly stomped off. When the hundred-year-old farmhouse’s pipes rattle, it snaps Jensen out of it, and, like the last time Y/N had guzzled that much alcohol too fast, he sees the trail of clothes left in her wake.

Now concerned, he gathered the articles and deposited them in the bath hamper. “Gonna tell me what set you off this time?”

A very unladylike snort came from behind the shower's glass door, “Check your phone.” He retrieved it from the charger in the bedroom and plopped on the large bed, thumbing through multiple missed text stops at the one from his manager marked urgent opens the included link. “Wha…Motherfucker!”

In an exclusive interview, OTH star Danneel Ackles reveals the real reason her ex-husband, Supernatural's Jensen Ackles, deserted his family.

A bath sheet-wrapped Y/N sat down cross-legged, facing Jensen as he continually tugged a hand through his long hair while reading the article full of falsehoods. Jensen suddenly dropped his phone and reached for the bottle copied her earlier chugging, “You know those paparazzi that've been harassing since Inks Lake?”

Jensen acknowledges, remembering the night a few weeks ago when Y/N’s astronomy class took a field trip, secretly arranging to take her camping instead (something he wouldn’t normally do on a dare) and proposed during the celestial event.

“Well, today, they got into the auditorium during my lecture and began shouting those derogatory accusations from that piece when several of my students took it upon themselves to intervene. Long story short, I’m on unpaid leave until the school finishes its inquiry.” His following words this is my fault made Y/N snap. “Oh, the hell you say! You’re absofuckinglutley not at fault here! Danneel acting like a snake in the grass!”

“Danneels pissed because,” but Jensen didn’t finish, instead guzzling on the last of the bottle.

“Because beg-a-bitch badly miscalculated you’d come crawling back and trying to save face! Peaches, I knew being together would have bumps, but this?” She points to his phone, “Face facts, Jensen. Your ex is a Regina George who’s gone too damn far covering her swamp ass!” Jensen sputtered on the cinnamon whiskey burning down the wrong pipe, “Swamp ass?”

“Urban Dictionary, page two, definition four.”

Jensen began to speak, but Y/N placed her fingers against his plump lips. “You’ve always been inclined to let a lotta crap slide to keep the peace because she’s the mother of your children. But Jensen, it’s time to redraw the boundaries of what is acceptable and what’s not ‘cause I don’t want your kids to grow up with resentments like I have towards mine.”

“Ohhh my god! Keep giving it to me just like this Peaches!” 

Y/N, sucking on her fingers, moaned in ecstasy, then pulled them out with an obscene pop before reaching for another slab of the ribs Jensen fixed in the outdoor smoker. “Good thing we’re not in public; otherwise, you’d get an obscenity charge.”

“It was one time, and I got off with a warning.” She cheekily remarks, “Besides, my meat man deserves props.” Jensen’s fair skin flushed; his tell when embarrassed but also when aroused makes Y/N grin and tease him by sucking the bones clean.

“Y/N, I wanted to talk about something, and don’t take this the wrong way.” Jensen takes a long swig of his beer before tackling the tricky subject. “Since we’re staying with my family for dad’s birthday, could you tone it down? Your personality can be a bit much.” Y/N got that expression, which he still wasn’t sure how to interpret.

“Calling me extra, that’s rich, considering your profession is full of fake people.” Jensen suppressed his automatic response. “Y/N, it’s just my parents; they’re very conservative.” She dropped her uneaten ribs and sat back.

“I might’ve grown up po-dunk,” her tone signals he’s close to stepping over the line. “But I know how to act around those types; otherwise, I wouldn’t have my position at UT Austin, let alone be headhunted by SpaceX for their new facility coming to Texas!” The flash of surprise crossing Jensen’s face didn’t slow Y/N down. “Would working for Elon Musk be acceptable to the high-fluttering Ackles clan? Or do they consider his personality a bit much?”

Hitting his limit, Jensen’s near-perfect features morphing into I’m done with your shit expression irked her more.

“You know what? We’re a couple of liquorlip loaded guns and better table this conversation till capable of being civil. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious.” Y/N gets up and grabs the rest of the six-pack. “I’m gonna polish these off in the guest house.”

“This is your house.”

“I know.“ Y/N says, twirling her engagement ring around her finger. “Kinda hoping sleeping alone in my bed will clarify whether you had a holy fuck, I’m over forty and single again moment and jumped the gun proposing or really ready for this life with me.” She laid the ring on the table before Jensen, and staggering slightly down the porch steps, disappeared into the moonless night.

Jensen was sitting on the kitchen banquette, watching the ancient oak leaves dance on the breeze through the window, when Y/N padded in barefoot, clad in one of his T-shirts, damp hair hanging loosely down her back, and no makeup.

God, he loved how she rocked the all-natural look, so different from Danneel, who always had to be camera-ready, watches Y/N sleepily fumble around, realizing the kettle was already heated, she added the tea diffuser, steeping it before pouring it into an oversized mug.

She shuffles and plops across from him, leaning on an elbow, waiting for Jensen to speak. “It wasn’t a knee-jerk reaction. You are the person I want to be with for the rest of my life.”

“Why?”

That one-word question hung in the air because Jensen knew what Y/N wanted.

It wasn’t the usual platitudes of I love you or can’t live without you. She wanted him to be open, raw, vulnerable, something he always had trouble with, exposing his innermost self.

“Figured after a decade in the industry, I had a grasp of how to tell fake people from real ones. I believed I knew Danneel because we’d been friends. Then she kissed me in Ten Inch Hero and we,” Y/N quirked an eyebrow as he ran a hand through his long hair, “I knew her boyfriend but did all my thinking with the wrong head. It wasn’t my finest moment.”

Jensen picked up the mug he’d already drunk and refilled it. “Looking back, I realized there were signs; our normal banter changed at some point. It was stupidly easier to ignore our issues in Vancouver or at cons.” Y/N remains quiet, so Jensen wouldn’t stop opening the hurt box and acknowledging the truth.

“I let Danneel manipulate me, thinking she supported my career by encouraging me to take on more roles. After getting pregnant with JJ, said she wanted to move back to Texas to be closer to family. Then pushing for more kids, ignoring what I wanted, to secure her position. And the other duplicity’s to get financial support for whatever project interested her.”

Jensen didn’t notice Y/N sliding across the seat beside him as he buried his face in his hands, “I've been her lifelong meal ticket. How could I have been so fucking stupid?!”

“Jensen, you aren’t stupid, you were in love. And some marriages work better with a bit of separation. What’s making me hella pissed is Grade A Cunt going around acting like butter wouldn’t melt and blaming you for her cheating!”

Y/N softens her approach, “Those weeks you didn’t call, figured you lost my number cause you’re another Hollyweird dickwad who didn’t wanna get caught with Ms. one-foot outta the trailer park.” Jensen shook his head, “I wouldn’t have taken you bar hopping to the ones I frequent if being seen together was the real problem. Why didn’t I call,” he shook his head again. “I didn’t know how to respond to you crashing through my insecurities like a…”

“Two by four in a tornado?”

“Pretty accurate and disturbing description.”

“Peaches, wanna know what I see when I look at you?” Jensen turned toward her, eyes loaded with apprehension. “A guy who feels too much, so he hides behind this reserved veneer and Da Vinci perfect face, kinda like his alter ego.”

Jensen pushes the mug over and takes her hand, placing the ring back on her finger. “I don’t know how to be without you anymore, so do me a favor. Don’t take this off again, okay?”

“Okay,” she reaches up, cupping his bearded cheek, "Peaches, I’ll always take care of you as long as you need me. So, we done with this emotional colonic?” Jensen laughs and kisses her. “That’s my girl.” He then licked his lips, “How about heading back to bed? We have a few hours before picking up the kids.” Y/N got up taken both mugs to the sink.

“I guess, since my propensity to get laid is about to greatly diminish staying with your parents, the con, then you heading off to finish up The Winchesters afterwards.”

“You have the weirdest technique for enticing a guy, sweetheart.” Jensen’s T-shirt smacks him in the face, and he's about to give her what for is gobsmacked at a completely naked Y/N standing in the doorway striking a seductive pose.

“This technique work for you, Peaches?”

Jensen glances in the SUV's rearview mirror to see which of his kids are acting up. But Clif, without looking, knows what’s happening and loudly asked, “Do the adult children need a timeout?” The noise abruptly stops as Jared and Y/N point at each other and simultaneously say, “He/She started it!”

****

The trip ended up taking a lot longer due to road work slowing traffic on the way to dropping Jared and Clif off at the hotel, and Jensen was relieved to pull into his parents' driveway. Getting out, twisted his torso to loosen up tense back muscles froze when the squeals of mommy rang out, and heard Danneel say she was also staying for the weekend.

Y/N grabs Zeps's backpack before stomping to the vehicle's rear, and when Jensen rounds the SUV, he is greeted with obscenities that would make a sailor blush and luggage hitting concrete. “Sweetheart, I have no idea why Danneel is here...”

“Because I invited her,” Donna Ackles says from not three feet away, and Jensen becomes frosty.

“Mom, we discussed this. You knew I was introducing Y/N to the family this weekend.” Donna comes back with, “Just because you abandoned your marital oath doesn’t change the fact that Danneel's family. And I had assumed your friend would be staying at that hotel, too.”

“Well, you know what they say about assumptions, Mrs. Ackles.” Donna’s eyes widened at Y/N's flippant remark, “You are a very impudent!”

“No, ma’am, inviting your son's lying whore ex to stay in the same house without his knowledge, that’s impudent," Y/N retorts. “I’d bet the farm your intentions are to demonstrate to everyone how dime in a dollar store I seem next to Danneel, hoping Jensen will be embarrassed enough to send me packing. Hate to disappoint you, but I don’t intimidate easily. So,” She stepped into Donna personal space and, with hands on hips says…“Bring it on, Grandma.”

SPNTAGS:  @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva @lassie-bird  @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67 @leigh70 @b3autyfuld1sast3r

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies  @stoneyggirl2  @beabutterfly987   @smoothdogsgirl @deans-spinster-witch

[solsticeswackstuff]

College! Angela requested by @thesixthimmortal :)

Ok-they said College!Angela, so I am going to take that and RUN. if you know me IRL just a warning this is cringe

Angela flung her bag onto her bed, scattering its contents across the floor. She hummed loudly as she danced and buzzed around the room, tossing clothes into the laundry basket with exaggerated flourishes. She gallivants around the room loudly tidying up her side, but your voice cuts through her commotion, "Hey, could you keep that down for like 10 minutes? I really need to prepare for my next lab." Angela freezes, looking you over as you are hunched over your desk, paper spread out all around you. Angela can't help but notice that you've moved the coffee machine from the kitchen to your desk and she eyes your two cups, one actively filling coffee and one you are finishing. "Yeah, for sure, I will just head out for a bit," she responds.

You watched her rush out, a familiar pattern for you two. Typically, when she goes out this late, Angela brings someone back, and you are forced to room with one of your friends for the night. You silently pray that Angela doesn’t continue that part of your routine. This lab isn’t just any lab; it’s the one that could make or break your grade. The pressure is immense, and studying with distractions is the last thing you need.

As Angela wanders to the store near your dorm, her mind can't help but wander back to your slumped form and disheveled appearance. Mindlessly wandering the aisles, Angela half-haphazardly tosses things into her cart. She abruptly stops as she realizes she's in the soup aisle, she begins hesitating as she realizes you haven’t eaten all day. Angela had always admired your dedication, and seeing you so stressed tugged at her heart. Maybe she hadn’t always been the most considerate roommate, but today, she wanted to show she could be more. With that thought, Angela tosses a can into her cart.

When Angela enters the room, she makes sure to be as quiet as possible, a complete reversal of her earlier actions. While you work, she puts away her groceries, except for the soup. She prepared it with meticulous care, even tackling the dishes—a chore she usually avoided unless you told her to. As Angela stirred the soup, she couldn’t help but think of how she often took your friendship for granted. Angela also thought back to when you shared your notes and coffee during her rough exam period, this small act was her way to give back.

You are so completely engrossed in your work that you don’t hear her set the bowl down until she clears her throat. Angela’s voice was soft, almost hesitant as she said, "I brought you some soup. I know you’ve been working hard and… well, I just wanted to make sure you ate something." before quickly flopping down in her bed, not knowing how to respond to your silence. A brief pang of doubt crossed Angela’s face as you returned to your work. Had she overstepped? Did you even appreciate her gesture? Angela's doubt stopped when you looked up you gave her your thanks, before diving in. As the warm comforting liquid falls into your throat, you can’t help but think that this is the best thing the best soup you have ever eaten.

The alarm you set to go to class blares and as you are physically (and mentally) preparing for this hell of a lab Angela, no louder than a whisper asks “Would you want me to walk you there?”. Surprised by her sounding so timid you can’t help but find it endearing. You nod and you two walk out together and begin discussing your days, busy but in different ways. Angela wishes you luck as you head in and you can’t help but appreciate how much she has been there for you today.

After the lab, you were extremely exhausted. As you walked out of the building, you saw Angela waiting for you. She had her usual energy returned and told you humorous stories about her day while gesturing wildly. Feeling tired, you started to wobble, so Angela supported you by holding your waist—just to support you, she repeated herself. You leaned on her for the rest of the journey home, grateful for all she does for you.

The door opens with a creak, and Angela practically drags you into bed, waiting for you to let go. As you cling to her, she hesitates before climbing in beside you, watching the tension leave your body for the first time that day. She holds you close, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead and watching for a reaction. You pull her closer, and she gives you a small nod. You close the gap between your faces, which had always seemed too large. At that moment, you realize that the soup was good, but this—this closeness and unspoken understanding—is something far more precious.

[redninjaoutfit]

"why don't you hang out with your brother?" "he's at his new girlfriend's house"

You genuinely do not understand the emotional impact these two sentences had on me. I didn't respond sooner because this ask actually pushed me to write a whole ass oneshot about Colt and Lucky based on this. I've been sat here in my pajamas doing nothing but writing.

SO. ENJOY. IDK IF ITS GOOD BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT AND KNOW IT DESTROYED ME EMOTIONALLY. (below the cut cause its long as shit)

4386 words of unfiltered angst hurt/comfort.

His brother's soulmate

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

The bell signalling the beginning of the next class rang out loudly, piercing the ears of nearby students and rousing birds out of the branches of surrounding trees. In their rush towards the main entrance, no one detected the hasty, light steps and delicate gush of wind passing through like a ghost, unaware that someone fortunate enough to avoid the oppressive authority of the school prefects had slipped through the front gate, completely unnoticed. The truant in question darted absentmindedly towards nearby shrubbery leading to Bullworth Town, unlit cigarette sitting patiently between his paint-blotched fingers, other hand smoothing the copper mane his older friends enjoyed tussling so much.

Colt De Luca, a Bullworth freshman and member of the feared and respected Greaser clique, could feel his legs moving yet had no idea where he was headed. He let his body take him wherever as he busied himself with searching his pockets for a lighter acquired off Ricky in the parking lot mere moments earlier.

After successfully retrieving the small object and lighting the tip of his very last cancer stick, Colt took a vigorous drag and felt his lungs burning, instantly relieving some of the stress off his mind. Granted a moment of clarity, the Greaser looked around. He found he’d already made his way over to the main road leading towards the path heading to New Coventry, his own place of residence.

Looks like it was yet another day of aimless wandering ahead of him.

While Colt was not usually one to skip school, having been brought up to value education and consider its impact on his future, today was different - much different - he thought to himself as he bitterly kicked the pebble which had the audacity to find itself in his way. Colt’s mind seemed preoccupied with thoughts and anxiety from the very moment he woke up and rose off his paper thin mattress and continued through the few classes he chose to attend and do badly in. Frustration kept him on the edge of his seat as the teachers talked and talked and asked invasive questions and refused his requests for a bathroom break (which they rightfully suspected would turn into a smoke break). Not even his trusty sketchbook helped soothe his irritable mind and upon hearing the dreaded ring of the bell, nothing could keep the boy inside the confines of the stone walls of the academy.

Colt’s anger was not unfounded yet as he traversed the decrepit streets of New Coventry he could not help but cringe at the memory of his friends’ concern throughout the day. Many of them have come around to inquire about his well being, sought him out of their own volition while he hid and ran. Norton offered to lend a comforting ear. Ricky asked if he wanted to ride around town after school. Lefty remained on his tail break upon break, attempting to get him out of his own head with chatter. Hell, even Johnny, the aloof, tough king of the Greasers said they should ditch and talk. Colt, regretfully, dismissed them all. He didn’t need their help, he could do this on his own, he was grown now.

Grownups don’t mope about the anniversary of their parents’ death.

Colt took a final drag of his cigarette and tossed it onto the side before its remains could burn him, stomping it out with his dirty loafer. He looked at the pitiful bud for a moment before averting his eyes, reminded much to his dismay of his current appearance. “I probably looked like a pathetic kicked puppy right now, damn it.” He thought to himself bitterly and headed for one of New Coventry’s many sketchy alleyways.

He’s fourteen years old, fifteen in a few months. Practically a grown man, hanging around the most dangerous and intimidating group in the whole school (excluding the Jocks, but Colt didn’t like to think about the roid monkeys if he could help it). He should have already learned how to deal with grief a long time ago, should have forgotten about the whole ordeal either way since he was merely a baby by the time he became an orphan. He had no right to miss the people he didn’t even know. Yet the stabbing in his heart and tightness in his throat he felt at the moment were just as intense as when he was first yelled at by his uncle after bashfully handing him a Father’s day card he was forced to make in school. Or when neighbourhood children tripped him onto a busy road and asked if he’d tattle to his mommy. Or when he was scowled at by teachers for being brought to school by a boy not much older than him instead of an adult. 

In previous years though, as juvenile and immature as it was, he had someone to share that grief with. None of his friends could understand better than that person did, for good reason too. He’d take young Colt out to do anything to get their minds off their parents, visit their favourite hotdog stand, wander around surrounding fields with no purpose at all, ride around on bikes from sunrise till dawn. They’d religiously visit their parents’ joined grave, year by year, and talk. Touch on things they normally would, couldn’t, and those conversations brought them closer than ever before.

This year was different, however. Colt would have to grow up and be brave on his own, since the jerk didn’t care about him-

Just as Colt was about to descend down the winding path behind the Tenements a small, familiar hand roughly grasped his upper arm, violently ripping him out of his own thoughts. He smelled the smoke before he even turned around to glance at the person with irked, surprised eyes.

Standing behind him was Lefty, his best friend, in all his jean jacket-clad, greased up glory, though the intimidating effect of his appearance was dampened by how out of breath he looked, coughing small droplets of black tar onto the pavement below their feet. Yet his grip on Colt’s arm never weakened.

“Dude, why do you have t’ be so fast?” Lefty gasped, straightening his back yet still appearing winded “Ya got a bounty on yer head or somethin’?”

Why was Lefty even there to begin with, though? Colt knew the little Greaser still had two more classes and though he often skipped school, some days entirely, he usually hid away from the prefects in the labyrinthine path toward the Autoshop. That, or he hung around the Blue Balls Casino, smoking it up to the point where they had to let it air out before entering.

He chose not to pry, however. He just wanted to hide somewhere, even if it was from who he considered a brother from another mother. Especially since his real one…

Colt sighed and looked away, feigning interest in nearby anti-Greaser graffiti.

“Not that I know of. Why are you even chasing me, shouldn’tcha be getting your beauty sleep in Slawter’s class right now?” retorted Colt, more venom in his voice than he would have wanted. He couldn’t even control himself with his best friend, what a child, he chastised himself, fists clenching.

Unbeknownst to him, Lefty had begun moving away from the alleyway as they talked, grip firm on his brooding friend as they slowly traversed the sidewalk rounding their designated yet dilapidated hangout spot. Truth be told, the chainsmoker had been worried about his childhood bud for a few days now. It was not uncommon for Colt to grow snappy and sad as they neared this time of the year, when leaves grew yellow and air crisped yet the avid painter found no drive to capture such picturesque sights. That was usually when he and the other Greasers stepped in - though emotional maturity was decidedly not their forte - to mitigate the bad moods of two of their clique members. That was when they partied the hardest, laughed the loudest, got up to most comedic hijinks they could think of and led actual in-depth discussions about things left untouched any other time of the year. The 50’s enthusiasts had their own, unique ways of showing each other they cared and, though unconventional, they usually worked.

This year was different and Lefty spotted it instantly. As the mid-October grew closer, nothing seemed to soothe Colt and the desperation Lefty felt witnessing his best friend’s pain was unlike any other. Unaware, or rather left in the dark about the reason for such an abrupt change (because he asked, many times at that!) he tried everything to make it better, which, ironically, did nothing. Which is why, having lost sight of Colt, Lefty turned to his friends to see if they’d caught wind of him anywhere in the academy.

Ricky, the ever-worrier, was the first person Lefty approached. He knew their resident mechanic usually had the most intel on all of their whereabouts since he usually obsessed over the people in his life to an unhealthy degree (such as his ex, but he didn’t like to talk about that). When asked about Colt, the older Greaser looked around the Autoshop’s entrance tentatively where he could only see Peanut and Vance having an animated conversation, upon which he leaned in, cigarette nearly falling from behind his ear.

“Don’t tell Lucky but I saw him dashin’ out of the front gate and haven’t seen him return since. Also might have given him a lighter, I ain’t proud of it but the kid was insistent.” Ricky confessed bashfully, smoothing the back of his pompadour, concerned expression never dropping from his face.

“Big deal, like we don’t all smoke.” Lefty muttered under his breath, shaking his head curtly. That was one thing he’d never been able to see eye to eye on with Lucky, he and Colt were barely four years younger than him and the rest of the Seniors yet when they smoked like a chimney it was okay. But enough about that.

“Why would Colt skip, though? He’s too nerdy for that, even on this day…” Lefty wondered.

“Don’t know dude, I’ve just been waitin’, hoping he’ll return before Luck sees and loses his shit. Hey, it wasn’t that long ago that he scrammed, maybe YOU can go bring our baby bro back since you seem to, ya know, be playin’ hooky too?” Ricky quipped playfully, looking at his watch to see it was already fifteen minutes since class began.

Which is how Lefty found himself in his current predicament, meandering the dirty streets of New Coventry, Colt in tow, head down as they traversed quietly. The silence was not awkward yet held an air of tension and sadness Lefty tried his best to signal a will to converse about through his pointed stares which, unfortunately, went completely unnoticed. Colt seemed lost in his own head, even more so than usual around the date of the anniversary. Lefty did not want to press but could simply not allow his friend to silently suffer any longer.

He led Colt towards a familiar, comforting path towards the abandoned, destroyed playground behind an old pizza parlour in a similar degree of upkeep. Since the closure of the restaurant many years back, the playground on its premises had been used exclusively by its undesignated audience of troublemakers, urban explorers and junkies who sought a secluded place to shoot it up in. It also just so happened to be where Lefty and Colt hid away since childhood when all seemed too overwhelming, when the world was just too big, their family issues too stifling.

The jean-clad Greaser moved the large carton box covering the entrance hole out of the way and bent down to pass, looking back at Colt as he went. His friends seemed aware of his surroundings at least, in his state of depression, as he mimicked Lefty’s movement and soon they stood in front of the hazardously rusty playground equipment, unmoving. Lefty saw it as his chance.

“OK dude, trust me, I know today’s rough on ya but I can see it’s worse than usual. What’s gotten into ya?” Upon receiving a deafening spur of silence in response, Lefty continued, attempting to look his friend in the eyes “I mean… skippin’ school, smokin’, ignorin’ us, to hell with the guys, ignorin’ me. It’s just… If something’s eatin’ ya up I wanna be able ta help and it clearly is.”

Desperate for any sort of answer, Lefty felt himself beginning to ramble, getting closer so he could put his hand on Colt’s shoulder in a - hopefully - consoling manner.

“And if you don’t wanna tell me, why don’t you hang out with yer brother? You know Lucky would be down to skip and drive around with you, he don’t like Maths anyway, you’d be doin’ him a favor.”

That seemed to finally get a reaction out of the artist, not one Lefty was hoping for, however, as the mournful Greaser sucked in a breath too quick to conceal and stiffened up under his arm. In the mere seconds their eyes met, Lefty saw pain and frustration and an unexpected glisten and moments later, Colt made a dash towards the entrance they had just breached.

Lefty hurriedly dove after him, grasping his arm much akin to how he caught him earlier in front of the Tenements.

“No gettin’ out of this one now buddy. Tell me what’s goin’ on and what’s it got to do with yer bro.” he stated, uncharacteristic severity in his voice as he led Colt towards the nasty, rusted swing set, other hand instinctively reaching for the full pack of smokes in his pocket “We’ve got all day, I may not be patient but for you, Imma sit here in silence till spooky hours till you’se in the mood to spill.”

Though the last part of his sentence may have been humorous, not even a hint of a smirk graced his face as he lowered himself carefully onto the squeaking swing and took out a cigarette out the box. His friend mimicked him wordlessly, sagging against his own seat’s cable, hand reaching out in unsaid request of his own cancer stick. Lefty did not hesitate before handing it over, bringing the tips of the cigarettes together before lighting them at once.

For a few solemn minutes, the two friends sat and filled their lungs with smoke, the only sound penetrating the silence between them being the croaking of the playground equipment around them and cars whooshing by on the other side of the fence. A light gust of wind tousled their hair from time to time, blowing the smoke back into their eyes, though neither gave it much consideration, lost in their own thoughts. Lefty wondered and pondered, unused to deep thought processes and obviously unaware of what exactly went down between the brothers on a day to day basis. To him, they seemed as in cahoots with one another as they usually were, albeit more glum with the anniversary of their parents’ passing around the corner. Having practically grown up alongside the De Luca siblings, Lefty felt he could confidently judge when the two had just had a falling out and despite Colt’s terrible mood Lucky appeared his regular self.

“He wouldn’t.” A meek voice disturbed his train of thought.

Lefty glanced over questioningly at his best friend who was mid cigarette drag, hands visibly shaking, brimming with anxious energy. Colt pushed himself absentmindedly back and forth on the swing with the heels of his loafers, the motion soothing to the Greaser, albeit barely. Noticing Lefty’s steely, concerned gaze, he coughed and continued.

“He wouldn’t. Be down to hang, that is. He uh… he’s goin’ over to his girl’s place today. Stayin’ the night too…” Colt mumbled and twisted his head away completely from his friend, cigarette long forgotten, burning dangerously close to his fingers and trailing ash on his pants.

Why had he even said anything at all? He wasn’t the only one who was growing older, Lucky, who’d always taken care of him, who’d always been there for him, who'd given up so much to raise both of them since their uncle couldn’t give a rat’s ass about them. He had grown too, into a respectable young adult at that, as respectable as he could be given their life circumstances. Despite being a notorious ladies man in the past, in recent months he’d been trying to actually make things work with a girl he met in their uncle’s shop. His undisputed charm worked its magic on her but contrary to his usual flings, so did hers. Lucky was actually serious about this girl, introducing her to his way of life, to his friends and (until that point, at least) the most important person in his life, his little brother Colt.

He was not jealous. At first. Jealousy is juvenile, after all. He enjoyed her presence, rather motherly, she was the calm to his fiery nature, the ying to his yang. She liked all of his hobbies and shared her own with him, some of which Lucky would never have considered uptaking in fear of them not being manly or tough enough. She was there for him through thick and thin, helped him destress and relax and take his mind off things when burnout approached since he was such a terrible workaholic. In turn, he showed her real fun, a rough, dangerous edge of the town and the Greaser way of life. Encouraged her towards spontaneity previously foreign to her.

They were a fantastic influence on each other, one could (and did, such as Lola) call them soulmates who healed a little bit each time they gazed into each other's eyes.

And Colt selfishly wished he could be such a person for Lucky.

Hence why, upon receiving the news of his brother spending the anniversary of their parents’ death, which the two of them usually bonded on, at his girlfriend’s place in a little village some distance away from Bullworth, something inside of Colt broke. The little boy inside of him, so painfully and tenderly helpless, desperately grasping onto his big brother’s hand like a lifeline fell onto the grainy sidewalk and watched his only support crutch walk away without looking back. He could not cry, he could not show weakness, yet he could not get up on his own either, left to rot and slowly melt into the pavement beneath.

He knew he had to be mature. To grow up one day. Let go of Lucky who did not deserve to have been forced to play parent for so many years. Let him lead his own life after he’d already shaped so much of himself to accommodate Colt's unseemly form. But he didn’t feel ready. Despite his desperate, unfair battle against his own feelings and his tormentor’s allegations, Colt knew deep down he was still just a silly, desperate child, incapable of fending for himself in the real world just as they had suspected all along.

He felt a hot, fat tear rolling down his cheek before he quickly rubbed it away with unwarranted force. Impulsively confessing something ridiculous to his best friend was one thing but letting him see him cry? Colt couldn’t handle that level of embarrassment. He’d already wallowed in self-pity in front of other people enough for his liking.

Before Lefty could form a response, Colt tossed the remains of his cigarette down into the sand below them, burying it with the tip of his shoe and standing up abruptly, not regarding his friend with the slightest of glances.

“I’m okay though, don’t worry ‘bout me man, ‘s just the usual. At least he’ll be havin’ fun. Let’s go back to school, I’ll mope ‘round a bit and then I’ll be good.” Colt began moving towards the exit of the playground, a faux smile plastered over his features. He knew it showed in his eyes which were still as mournful as before and although he realised that Lefty was not dumb enough to believe him, he’d hoped he was negligent enough to drop it.

The other Greaser had different plans, however.

While Lefty would not argue with the others saying he had the emotional intelligence of a fruitfly, he also considered it one of his greatest weaknesses and felt nothing was worse than when he wanted to comfort a friend and failed miserably due to his attitude of actions over words. His own upbringing and parents did not grant him much opportunity to develop a sense of maturity required to handle such intense situations and he fumbled with his words, stumbling and landing head first before he could even attempt to console the other person, which had ironically happened with Colt more times than he could count. The artistic Greaser was much more mature in that sense yet never judged him for his inadequacy.

Today was different.

Lefty caught up with Colt, placing a tentative hand on his leather-covered back, his long hair just barely tickling his fingertips as the other came to a half, short of bending down to the hole in the fence.

“‘S that why you’ve been so depressed these past couple ‘a days? ‘Cause Lucky ain’t gonna be here today fer you today?” Lefty inquired carefully, not a drop of judgement in his voice.

Colt spared him a measured glance, insecurity clouding his judgement as he convinced himself he saw humour within the icy gaze of his friend. He shrugged off his hand.

“I know it’s fuckin’ ridiculous and childish of me, okay. Let’s just move on and go back ta class.”

Lefty, indignant, stopped the advancing boy in his tracks with his elevated tone.

“Dude, FUCK class.” He spun Colt around to face him directly without a hint of hesitation “You need to hear this right now, you ain’t ridiculous, you ain’t childish, and ya certainly don’t gotta force yaself to be okay today. I’m not gonna sit here ‘n listen to ya talk about my friend like that.”

Both held uncertain breaths, not looking away from each other, one set of steel meeting sky blue in a desperate attempt at reading the other’s mind, hoping to make the message stick. Lefty knew deep down that if he let his friend go, he’d never let himself live that fact down. He clicked his tongue and continued, struggling to think of the right way to articulate his thoughts.

“It fuckin’ sucks, that you’se breakin’ a tradition like that. I know yer bro means the world to ya and nothin’ will ever replace him. But… you ain’t alone, with or without Luck. Maybe we don’t tell ya enough but you got the guys, you got me, I’m not gonna let you forget.” Lefty felt the corner of his own mouth twitch upward for a moment “Matter of fact, since you’se not busy with Lucky, I’m takin’ you out, gettin’ yer mind off it all-”

Colt attempted to butt in, shaking his head adamantly, a horrified blush gradually spreading across his features. “I couldn’t make you do that! You don’t gotta-”

“But I wanna!” Interjected Lefty, growing giddy by the second “Man, I want you to be happy. I want you to see you’se not alone. And I wanna hang out!” He assured, smiling with his teeth now.

“We can do whatever you want man, throw firecrackers at the coppers, ride ‘round the town, stay out ‘n sleep outside somewhere like bums. Hell, we can even go visit yer parents together… if you’se good on that…” Now was Lefty’s turn to smooth his hand over his pomp nervously, hoping he didn’t cross a boundary.

A quick glance upon Colt’s awestruck expression told him all he needed to know.

“Just… don’t isolate yerself from me, Colt. I’d rather see you bawl yer eyes out than have’ta wonder what’s got you down in the dumps. Lucky’s not the only one who cares about ya you know.”

He did know now.

It took a moment for Colt to collect himself after such an outburst from his usually humorous and emotionally unavailable best friend. The shaking in his limbs subsided as he carefully considered Lefty’s spontaneous stream of consciousness, gratitude clouding the sheer awkwardness of the moment and the embarrassment he felt at his impromptu venting session. While he still missed Lucky and felt lost without him by his side, he could now approach the situation with more assurance, his dearest companion in clear support even through his withdrawal and depressing attitude.

Therefore, after exhaling deeply, his gaze traversed over to his friends wherein he nodded, more enthusiastically than he thought possible mere hours before, agreeing to Lefty’s primitive yet endearing idea of consolation.

The rest of the day, albeit undeniably sombre and glum, was spent by the two best friends on their feet, causing unwarranted mischief to their beloved neighbours, wandering aimlessly and basking in each other’s presence. They did, to Colt’s alleviation and Lefty amazement, visit the marble headstone of Mr. and Mrs. De Luca and though Lefty’s presence in Lucky’s place was strange at first, it felt natural, as the chainsmoker encouraged him to retell tales of their childhood afore the couple’s passing, a request with which he complied enthusiastically.

Colt felt no need to remark that most of them he'd only learned from his brother.

Hours later and much after curfew, Colt and Lefty laid on a patch of desolate green grass outside of the dirt path surrounding New Coventry. Fully clothed, not caring whether the blades stained their garments green, they conversed calmly, though the events of the day were starting to take a toll on their energy levels. Conversation drifted lazily, their faces only illuminated by the wide array of stars visible to the naked eye outside of their polluted neighbourhood and the glow of the moon bestowing upon them the ability to look each other in the eye from time to time, snickering at one another’s drained expressions.

From where he resided, Colt was sure that through squinted eyes he could see his mom and dad smiling down on him from up above, telling him it was all going to be okay.

He hoped Lucky saw that too, wherever he was.

[ghoulelegy]

A Ghoul's Sick Day

Summary :You wake up one morning feeling rather ill.

Pairing: Copia x Sick Reader

Words: 2222

Contains:

Comfort Gender-Neutral Reader Fluff Cuddling

Read A Ghoul's Sick Day on AO3 - If you prefer that.

Edit: so I am dumb and I couldn't figure out for the life of me how Tumblr works but credit goes out to @ghostussy for a major source of inspiration when it came to writing this fic. Please show them your love too <3

Meant to publish this earlier because I wrote this a while ago but editing my work took a whileeeeee - thank you for your patience <3

The blaring alarm pierced the sanctuary of sleep, yanking you from dreams that seemed to slip away like smoke. Clutching your head, you squinted at the digital numbers on your phone, plugged in to the outlet next to your bed, which is laying on your bedside table, struggling to make sense of their meaning through the haze of fatigue. Your bedroom remained dimly lit, the remnants of night clinging to the edges of the curtains. You'd called it an early night, seeking refuge in your dorm after an exhausting day of work.

Yet, as you pushed yourself to sit up, a realization dawned like a cold shower. A wave of nausea and fatigue had descended upon you the previous evening, rendering the simplest tasks a struggle. Your bones ached as though they'd been beaten, and your head throbbed with each heartbeat.

Fumbling for your glasses on the nightstand, you slid them onto your face, expecting the world to come into focus. Instead, you were met with a blur, the edges of your vision smudged and unfocused. Even the soft light filtering through the curtains felt like a searing stab, forcing you to squint and shield your eyes.

You sighed, propping yourself against the pillows, your thoughts tangled in a web of concerns. The day ahead promised a demanding schedule—classes, music practice, dinner duty, and library work. Your mind raced, thoughts colliding like stormy waves in the vast sea of responsibilities. A pang of dread nestled itself in your chest, coiling like a serpent. The urge to retreat back under the covers was strong, but the echoes of expectations and commitments held you captive.

As you stood, the room swayed slightly, the ground beneath your feet feeling more like a ship's deck in a storm. Each step required a conscious effort, as if gravity itself had conspired against you. With painstaking determination, you moved towards the bathroom mirror. A face stared back at you, the reflection drawn and weary. Dark circles marred the skin beneath your eyes, despite the early bedtime you put yourself through the day before.

A mental checklist formed, a reminder of all the tasks that lay ahead. But first, you needed to combat this relentless headache. You reached for the painkillers, hoping they'd provide a brief respite from the throbbing torment. The duo of pills slipped down your throat, followed by a quick gulp of water from your bottle - a bitter reminder of your body's protest against its own demands.

In your university attire - an oversized hoodie, worn black jeans, sneakers—you slung your backpack over your shoulder. The weight felt heavier today, each strap a reminder of the commitments you had to fulfill. You pushed open the door of your dorm, stepping into the common area of the ghouls, your fellow dorm mates. Laughter echoed, a stark contrast to the turmoil within you.

The hallway beckoned, a corridor of decisions and responsibilities. Yet, fate had its own plans, for as you turned the corner, you collided with none other than Copia, the enigmatic lead singer of the Ghost Project – and its frontman.

"Morning, Papa, I'm off for the day," you greeted him, though the words wavered slightly.

His dark eyes, framed by his unique presence, scanned you with concern. "Mio Dolce," he responded, his voice holding a touch of warmth and inquiry. "Sathanas, you don't look too good."

You smiled, the expression an attempt to reassure both him and you "I'm fine, papa," you claimed, though even behind the glasses, he could likely sense the discomfort that painted your features.

His eyebrow arched, skepticism lacing his gaze. "You sure about that?"

"Of course," you replied, your conviction wavering as his gaze held steady.

In the midst of your exchange, a notification chimed on your phone. The class you dreaded facing had been cancelled, granting you a temporary reprieve. Copia's lips curved into a faint smile. "Good. You can go rest. You seem like you need it."

You hesitated, your fingers toying with the strap of your backpack. Guilt whispered in your ear, reminding you of all that remained to be done. Yet, Copia's concern was genuine, his insight piercing through the facade you'd built.

“No, no, it’s okay, I’ll get some work done since I’m up I suppose”

His voice held a note of finality. "Try again. You don't look good."

This time, you nodded, surrendering to the truth you'd been reluctant to admit even to yourself. The unspoken weight of expectations, both your own and those of others, settled heavily on your shoulders.

"Fine" you replied.

"Good. Feel better soon, mio dolce"

"Thanks, Papa"

You head back to your room, and collapse on your bed. You haven’t bothered making it this morning. A wave of nausea enthralls your entire body once again, forcing you to bury your head into your soft pillow in an attempt to quench the sickness.

Your thoughts whirl, you feel guilty for resting. You just can't get your head to shut up. You were still rather new to the ministry, and rather terrified of disappointing any of the staff members, especially since they took you in. You see them as family.

"Ah fuck this shit. I'm fine" you talk to yourself, a habit you’ve picked up as a child and carried into your older years. You forcibly prop yourself up again and head off to the library to get some work done, and to return a book you had borrowed the week before – a book on mushroom spotting and fungi. Your head still throbs, but the painkillers eased the pain slightly.

As you approach the library, you’re struck with the sudden remembrance of a commitment - you need to do some sorting and book counting, an assignment given to you by the head librarian the day before. As a university student, you often found yourself curled up in the library researching on whatever topic intrigues you, or strange information that is needed for your coursework. The library at the ministry was quite smaller than the one on the University Campus, but it had some works that were a rarity, it was also much quieter, allowing you to focus more. The head librarian was none other than Sister Claire – one of the older Siblings. She’d allowed you to sometimes work as an assistant librarian when you weren’t too busy. It was nice work, flexible and allowed you to get some extra pocket money. She assigned you to finish stacking some books while she wasn’t there, she was gone for a couple of days. Trip or something.

A couple of hours of you stacking and organising books goes by. You notice more nausea every time you get up from a kneeling position and vice versa. You don't care.

As the early afternoon sun filtered through the windows, your fingers finally set the last book in place on the shelf. Despite the sense of accomplishment, weariness weighed heavily on your bones. Your head throbbed in an unrelenting rhythm, each pulse a reminder of your body's protests. The lyrics of 'Square Hammer' seemed to echo in your mind, a fitting soundtrack to your pounding headache. With a resigned sigh, you recognized that the painkillers had lost their battle against the relentless ache. You pressed a hand to your temple, a feeble attempt to quell the growing nausea that threatened to engulf you."

You open the door out of the library when you come face to face with Copia once more.

"What are you doing here, Mio Caro? Weren't you supposed to be resting?"

"Oh..uh I had to return a book" *it was technically the truth*

"Were you working here all morning?"

"No"

"I came in the ghouls' common room to check in on you just now. You weren't in your room. Swiss told me you were out for most of the morning" he sighs, as he places his thumb and index finger on his forehead.

"Please...rest" Copia continues "you look like you're going to collapse."

"What--no I'm not. You don't need to worry" *a wave of dizziness and nausea hit you right as you say that*

"You're taking the rest of the day off. That is an order" Copia says, a hint of sternness in his voice.

"...fine.."

"I'll call Sister to tell her that you're unwell, and you can spend the rest of the day with me. Resting.

"Y-you don't have to do that" you shuffle out those words, feeling guilty for taking up space.

"Nonsense, Tesoro."

He took you to your room, waiting for you outside your bathroom while you change into your fluffy pyjamas. You walk outside into your dorm, surprised to see him holding a one-metre-long stuffed shark in his arms.

"This is your favourite plushie right?" He asks, his eyes gently gliding over yours.

"Yeah. How did you know?" You let out a chuckle, before losing focus due to yet another wave of vertigo hitting you.

"You told me, Caro."

"Did I?" You choke out, surprised he remembers these little details about you.

"You remembered"

"Of course, I did, Caro. I care about you, you're one of our ghouls."

He leads you to his chambers, holding your arm in case you collapse, while you're holding your Blåhaj in your other arm.

"You don't think I'm weird or childish?" You ask.

"Nonsense. If it brings you comfort and you're not hurting anyone or yourself, why should I think you're weird?" he chuckles as he leads you in his chambers.

Immediately you were struck by the cocooning feeling of comfort, a gentle light dancing from the window onto the bed. There was a television facing the bed, next to the door you had just entered from. You notice yourself holding in a bit of a giggle as you notice Copia’s beloved tricycle.

"Bed or couch? What do you prefer?" He inquired.

"Umm.."

"Bed it is, it's more comfortable. Trust me on this, Caro"

He gently leads you on the king-sized bed, propping your head up with soft pillows and ploughing a blanket on top of you. You snuggle into a fetal position, holding your stuffed shark. He brings you a glass of water and some more painkillers.

Upon you taking the water and medicine you drop your Blåhaj.

"Nooo! Sharky!" you whine, grabby hands towards the shark.

"You named it Sharky? That's cute" he speaks, as he picks up the shark and gives it back to you.

"Do you want to watch a movie? Maybe something that brings you comfort?"

"Sure?"

He lets you pick a DVD of your choosing, before propping it into the DVD player. You pick your childhood favourite.

"Our technology is a bit ancient here" he chuckles "sorry about that”.

"It's fine, papa" you smile. In all honesty it brings you comfort and nostalgia for your childhood days, when your mother used to leave you at your grandparents when you were ill.

Papa takes a seat next to you, laptop on him, typing next to you, while you watch the movie. Every once in a while he'd ask if you're feeling okay still.

Halfway through the movie you feel your eyelids getting heavy. Copia takes away his laptop and removes your glasses.

"Shhh it's okay, rest."

"Mmmm" you find yourself snuggling into Copia for warmth, before waking up. "Oh shit sorry Papa" you say, a wave of embarrassment further reddening your already flushed face.

"It's alright, Caro, you can snuggle with me all you want" he says as you rest your head on his shoulder “bring it in”.

Copia's touch was a symphony of reassurance, his fingers gliding with feather-light grace over your skin. As his arm curved around your shoulders, his palm settled gently against your upper arm, creating a cocoon of security. You could feel the warmth of his touch seeping into your bones, a soothing balm that eased the ache that had settled there.

His thumb brushed against the fabric of your pyjamas, a delicate, almost absentminded gesture that sent ripples of comfort through your senses. With a tender grace, his fingers traced gentle patterns, a silent lullaby against the canvas of your arm. The pad of his thumb brushed over your skin in languid strokes, creating a hypnotic rhythm that synced with the steady beat of your heart.

As the Blåhaj plushie nestled between you, Copia's touch remained a constant, grounding force. His fingertips brushed against the curve of your shoulder, a gesture that held both tenderness and protection. It was a touch that defied words, offering solace and support in its simplicity.

With every inhalation, his chest rose and fell against your head, the sensation a soothing cadence that lulled you into a sense of calm. His arm around you created a haven—a space where vulnerability was not met with judgment.

"You'll feel better in no time" Copia whispered to you gently, his tone taking an almost fatherly whisper.

As the room bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, the tactile connection between you and Copia transcended the physical. It was an exchange of comfort, of trust, of emotions that words could scarcely capture. And within the cradle of his embrace, you found a haven of acceptance, where the language of touch spoke louder than any explanation ever could. You found yourself drifting into sleep once more.

“Good night, ti amo.”

~ Fin ~

[lonely-eli]

Trippin' On Hallucinogenics - Chapter 4

Barty and Pandora walked into Potions class and sat down in the front of the classroom, something Barty was looking to avoid. A scrawnier girl with curly blonde hair that she pulled back into a ponytail, sat behind them. She was wearing a bandana over her hair that was covered with small rainbows. She stared at Barty with misty eyes, he stared right back at her, though he had to twist uncomfortably in his chair which didn’t give it the full effect he had wanted.

Slughorn the teacher introduced himself as, was a plump man who had thinning hair. He basically had a comb over, Barty cringed at it, “I am the head of Slytherin, and will be your teacher for your first to fifth year, at which point you can decide to take N.E.W.T. classes for potions. Though that’s a while in the future.

“Today we will be starting with learning some herbology, specifically the different types of mushrooms and their uses in potions. Are there any questions?”

The class was silent. Slughorn nodded, “Good. Now what is a mushroom?”

No one raised their hands, they all looked at one another nervously. Finally, Pandora sighed and raised her hand, Slughorn called on her, “Ms…”

“Rosier. Pandora Rosier, sir. It’s a fungus.”

“Ten points to Ravenclaw,” Slughorn responded. As it was explained, teachers and other leading figures in the school could give and take away points from each house and the house that had the most points at the end of the school year won. Hufflepuff had won last year because they were apparently the most behaved house.

Slughorn asked his next question and a Hufflepuff raised their hand, surprising the class, Slughorn called on the Hufflepuff who answered correctly and got their house ten points.

It went on like this for the entire double period, they didn’t even touch the cauldrons that they had brought. Barty ran his finger around the rim of his while zoning out, he had already read the book about mushrooms and their uses. Finally class was over, and they could all breathe a sigh of relief as they left the classroom.

“What’s your name?” Pandora asked the girl behind them as they were packing up. Barty looked down at his notes only to find he had written “BEAT ROSIER AND BLACK” in big bold letters. He closed the notebook and put it in his bag.

“Sybil Trelawney,” the girl said, “We’re roommates I think.”

“I didn’t see you there this morning,” Pandora said.

Sybil nervously fidgeted with her fingers, “Well I went to the quidditch pitch early—”

“Oh! That’s so much fun!” Pandora said with a clap of her hands, “You know, I really want to go, it seems like such a good place to get my reading in!”

“It is!” Sybil said with a burst of passion then she quietly said, “I mean… yeah, it really is.”

“Maybe we can hang out together sometime,” Pandora replied. Sybil turned a bright red.

“Yeah, that sounds cool.”

“Do you want to eat lunch with us?” Pandora asked. Sybil just nodded, so Pandora threaded their arms together, like she had with Barty earlier, “This is Barty Crouch by the way.”

“Don’t forget it,” Barty said with a wink, then he cringed at himself, why did he just do that? He felt like a house elf who should punish itself.

They walked into the Great Hall where students were already sitting down and eating. Barty tapped Panda on the shoulder, “I’m going to talk to the boys.”

Panda nodded, “Tell Evan that we need to meet up later in the library.”

Barty snuck over to the Slytherin table, he wrapped his arms around Evan and Regulus’s shoulders, “Wassup, boys?”

“Crouch, get your hands off me,” snapped Regulus. Barty sighed and took his hands off Regulus, choosing to wrap them around Evan instead. Evan just completely ignored him.

“I’m offended, Regulus, I thought that we were friends,” Barty said.

“Just—” Regulus sighed, “Just leave me alone right now, okay?”

“Fine,” Barty said, he poked Evan in the cheek, Evan smacked his hands away, “Your sister wants to hang out.”

“Where?” Evan asked, “Is she okay? Did you do something to her?”

“She’s fine,” Barty said, rolling his eyes, “She just wants to hang in the library. I’m going to the bathroom, you two are boring.”

“Okay,” Evan said, looking at his sister.

“Now if you don’t mind, Black—” Snape started. Barty quickly retreated before he heard the garbage that left the kids mouth. 

***

By the time that Friday rolled around, Barty had gotten twenty points for Ravenclaw by asking questions in class, successfully high fived Evan, and memorized every section of the library.

“Look at this,” Pandora giggled, she turned the book towards him, he stared at it then grinned. It was a detailed picture of a unicorn being eaten by a— well he wasn’t sure what it was being eaten by.

“You are a mystery, Pandora Rosier,” he said. She giggled harder, then turned the book back.

They were sitting in the reading nook in the library on opposite ends of the couch with their legs tangled. Barty was reading a book for class. Emmeline was laying on the ground in front of the couch, doodling something in her notebook.

“What are we going to do this weekend?” Pandora groaned, “I mean we won’t have a schedule or anything.”

“Finish homework, hang out with the other houses—” Pandora, and Barty by association, had become friends with some of the other Ravenclaw girls due to shared classes. They had studied with them and Evan in the library, which turned into more of a gossip session.

“Paxton Green totally likes you,” Hestia Jones said, addressing Pandora, who turned a bit red. Aurora reached out and grabbed Pandora’s hands.

“We could ask if you’d like.”

“Yeah, Panda,” Barty said, snickering behind his book, “Paxton Green.”

Paxton was a confident boy whose hair fell in his eyes and he was constantly pushing it back, and he was Barty’s roommate. The second out of four of them that Barty had actually met, the first of which was currently standing on his head while singing a song backwards. Not even a specific song, Lovegood was just mixing lyrics.

Pandora scrunched up her face, “No…”

“Well if you don’t want him,” Hestia said, sitting back in her seat, “I’ll take him.”

Aurora raised an imaginary glass, “Here here, sister.”

The two laughed and collapsed into each other. Barty tapped his book, “I think I’ve noticed you getting looks from 

“What did you think of Regulus Black getting Slytherin?” Inaya, the quieter of the three girls, asked.

“I heard Sirius was disappointed.”

“Who cares?” Barty asked, “that boy is a traitor.”

Barty used air quotes on the word, the girls all sighed, “Maybe, but he’s hot too.”

“Panda!” Barty said, looking at his friend, who stopped and smiled, “What would Reggie say?”

“With his family’s track record he’d probably agree,” Evan said, Barty jumped, completely forgetting that Evan was at his side.

“That’s not nice,” Pandora told her brother.

“So, Evan,” Hestia said, running her finger up and down the spine of a book, “who do you like?”

“No one, it’s been a week of school.”

Barty gasped, “Not even me?” “I hate you,” Evan replied easily. 

“My life is over,” Barty mourned. The Ravenclaw girls patted him on the back sympathetically.

In the present, Barty laughed to himself. He actually liked it at school, it was nice to be able to sleep without waking up to a house elf in your face, nervously hovering over you. It was also nice to not have to worry about your father coming home and discovering what a mess you’ve made of your room.

Pandora tapped Barty’s leg, “Move.”

She hopped up and walked over to the bookshelf to get something new. Barty leaned across the arm of the couch giving her an upside down smile. She noticed him staring and turned around.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, I’m just happy,” Barty said, putting it into words for the first time. He sighed.

Pandora smiled, “That’s good.”

Barty had already gotten a letter from his mother, it was telling him that she and his father said hello, and that she expects him to write to her weekly. Then the letter went on a long rant about how her friends had accidently spilled tea on her white dress.

Pandora sat back down and laid her head on the back of the couch, smiling at Barty.

“Let’s hang out with the others this weekend.”

***

“You better shut up, Snivellus,” Barty heard a voice saying on his walk to the library. He ducked behind the corner before peeking out.

Sirius and Remus were standing with their wands ready, pointing it at the greasy Snape guy from earlier. They both looked blood lusty. Snape reached into his pocket, when Slughorn suddenly appeared and broke up the fight.

“Mr. Snape, Mr. Black, and Mr. Lupin, this is shameful behavior in the hallways!” Slughorn shouted, “10 points from Gryffindor and Slytherin.”

Barty chose this moment to walk out and try to get past them, but he was stopped by Slughorn, who massaged his temples, “Mr. Crouch please say you had nothing to do with it.”

“I had nothing to do with it, sir, I was just trying to get to the library,” Barty responded. Slughorn nodded.

“Then get on your way,” Slughorn said. Barty nodded. He started to walk away just as Slughorn started berating the three second years again. 

The library was quiet, and he spotted the twins and Regulus already sat down at their usual table in the corner. All of them seemed to be silently reading, or Pandora and Regulus seemed to be reading, Evan was simply staring at the book boredly.

“I ran into your brother in the hallway,” Barty said as he sat down, Regulus stiffened, “He was fighting with Snape with that Remus kid. The one with the scars.”

“I know who you’re talking about,” snapped Regulus. Barty held up his hands in an innocent gesture.

“Calm down, I just thought you should know.”

“Did you do anything?” Regulus demanded.

“Well I was going to wink at him, but then realized that no one was around to get the joke, so no. They did get points taken away from Slytherin though which means that RAVENCLAW IS IN THE LEAD.”

“Let’s go!” Pandora reached out to high five Barty. Regulus squinted his eyes.

“If you think I care about something so—”

“Oh lighten up, Black,” Evan said. Barty smiled at Evan, who also needed to lighten up.

Regulus glared at the two of them before going back to his book, ‘Just stay away from my brother, okay?”

“Fine by me, he’s annoying as hell,” Evan said. Barty nodded.

“I think they’re delightful,” Pandora interjected.

“You would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Evan?” Pandora was glaring at her brother, her hand slipping into her pocket.

“Nothing, Panda,” Evan said quickly.

“Good,” Pandora grinned, then pulled a piece of candy from her pocket and popped it into her mouth.

“Classes this week have been horrible,” Evan groaned, “There’s too much homework.”

“It’s not that bad,” Regulus said.

“Are you sure you’re not a Ravenclaw?”

“Yes,” Regulus said with a dark look in his eyes. Then he grabbed the newspaper and threw it onto the table between them. Barty eyed it curiously, “Me being Slytherin was in the news, apparently I’m not going down the same path as my brother.”

Barty flipped through the pages and found that it said that Regulus sat down at the Slytherin table crying when he had shown so little emotion it was scary. It also said that the Rosier twins had a heartfelt goodbye after being broken up in different houses. But then again, it never really showed what happened.

Barty put the newspaper down and they didn’t talk about it again. Instead moving onto topics of Quidditch which Barty found extremely boring, his favorite part of Quidditch afterall was when the players got knocked off their brooms.

Instead, Barty found his mind wandering to the points system and how he had done nothing but do good this week. Just like his father would have done.

  When everyone started to go, Barty got Pandora to hang back.

“What is it, Barty?” Panda asked.

Barty paused with an open mouth then decided against it and shook his head, “Nothing. Nevermind.”

“Okay,” Pandora said, she looked confused and kind of nervous.

“Why don’t you go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Barty said, “I still need to look for a book.”

Pandora shrugged and headed on her way while Barty started looking through the books for a Disillusionment charm.

[zeeamoe]

The Boy That Sits Alone In The Front Row Always Wears A Black Sweater - Part 14

click here for the previous post

We hadn’t been friends for that long, so I didn’t want to force her to tell me things if she didn’t want to. All I could do was let her know that I would be there for her.

A few months passed and we finished another year of middle school. It was the day when we received our report cards, which for some reason was held on a weekday.

Both my parents took a day off work to attend it. Most only had one of their parents attend.

There was some time before it was my turn, so I went around to other classes and greeted my friends. I knew that she got an earlier turn, and had probably received hers at that point.

From what I knew, her dad had a job, while her mom always stayed at home. So, I guessed that her mom must have been the one to attend.

I reached her classroom only to find that someone else was inside with their parents and the teacher. She was not there.

I thought she must have gone home already, so I walked away.

Then I went past another classroom which was dark and empty, but there was a student standing still with a report card in their hand.

They were facing the other way.

Tall, long hair, thin build with the sleeves folded and the skirt slightly over the knees.

It was her.

“Oh, you’re still here?”

There was no reply.

I didn’t see her mom anywhere. Maybe she went to the bathroom, so she’s waiting for her here. That said, it was a weird place to wait.

Why wait in an empty classroom and not the hallway? Why didn’t she turn on the lights? Why was she just standing there rather than sitting down somewhere?

I stepped into the classroom.

Although she didn’t respond to my question, she seemed to hear me and turned her head around.

And I could never forget her face that day.

The light from the hallway was reflected on her eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed in a way that made her look helpless. Her lips were pressed together, quivering.

In the dark, the girl who always had a fierce look on her face, for the first time ever looked like she was about to cry.

I reflexively opened my arms.

Without saying any words, she dashed into my arms and burst into tears.

That was the first time I ever saw her cry.

As she was sobbing quietly, I brushed her back lightly. She was taller than me, so I was struggling since she seemed to put her weight on me.

I wasn’t sure what to say, or if I should comfort her. I wanted to say something like, ‘hey, it’s okay’ but I didn’t even know why she was crying. I decided to just let her cry for as long as she needed to.

There was no way it was related to the report card. She might have gotten into trouble, but her grades were great. If anything, it might have been the behavior evaluation section. The amount of detentions she had that year alone could leave anyone jaw-dropped.

Turns out, I didn’t need to ask. Because she suddenly spoke through her broken voice.

“I hate it here... I’m not going home… I want to f*cking leave!”

She kept sobbing and sniffing, and there wasn't any strength in her arms, but she didn’t let go.

It was an awkward position to be hugging and crying in a dark, empty classroom with the doors open. Thankfully no one passed by during that time. It was also almost my turn to receive my report card, and I had to go back to the second floor.

Of course, I didn’t let go of the hug until she did it first. It didn’t take long for her to regain herself. She probably remembered that I had to go.

She backed away, sobbing for one last time before wiping her tears away.

“Go ahead. I’m okay… I’ll be here until you’re done.”

I nodded and patted her arm.

Then, I had an idea.

“Hey, why don’t you stay at my place?”

She blinked.

I blurted it out without thinking much. I was just giving her an option since she seemed to hate the idea of going home that much. Especially today. And I thought the details could be figured out later.

“Just for a night, or however long you need. My parents are here, so I can just ask them later,” I explained as I walked out of the classroom. “Just think about it. I’ll get back to you, kay?”

And I ran back to get my report card.

Whatever happened, all I knew was that I had to get her out of there for that day. There must have been a reason for why she was the way she was. Why she purposefully got in detention after school, why she had to drop everything for an errand, why she never tried to run away from any of it.

Good news was, my parents were okay with it, despite my report card being a complete flop. The teacher only advised that I take extra lessons or tutors, but appreciated that I was well-behaved in class.

It was also a relief that they didn’t ask much further on why she had to stay at our place. We had a spare room anyway, for when relatives come over.

The only thing was, when I went back to that classroom, she was hesitant.

“Hey, my parents said it’s okay! You can borrow some of my stuff, so you don’t have to go back first, or we could stop by somewhere to shop for things!”

“No, umm…”

She stood up from a chair. Her face was no longer red and there were no more tears. There was just a slight puffiness left.

I figured she might have turned it down.

If the matter was just getting away, she simply would have run away a long time ago. Considering what kind of person she was, she could easily find herself a job, crash to a place, or even live in the streets.

I knew her problems couldn’t be solved by just running away. But, then again.

“Just for a day. It’s okay. You deserve at least one day to get away.”

I could only convince her that way. I didn’t know if it was right. I didn’t know if it could get worse when she came back. But, she needed a little break. Just a short break from everything.

I knew that much.

Whatever problems she had at home, I knew she needed at least a day to breathe.

After a few seconds.

“Okay,”

She agreed to it. 

As I had suggested, she both went shopping right after. Since she couldn’t go home to get her stuff, we went to buy clothes and some products before going to my house. My mom tagged along as well to buy some things.

It seemed that she planned to cook something for tonight. There were so many ingredients that it seemed like she could throw a feast. Hmm. It was suspicious because her mood couldn’t have been this good considering my report card.

Anyway, when we went home, my mom did cook a lot.

“What’s all this for??? Mom! Are you finally glad that I got passing grades for all my classes? It could have been worse, right?”

“Shut up, this is for your friend here! You should thank her! Because you wouldn’t be getting all this good food if she didn’t come over. I would have made you study in your room! And are you going to explain to me why you got a D in English?! You speak English!! How are you failing the only language you know?!”

“Awww, come one, mom! Don’t yell like that! Look! We have a guest! She’s hungry! Just cook, just cook! Look! I’ll help-”

“What? No, I’m not that hungry! Ah, it’s okay ma’am, excuse me-”

“What are you saying? You have to eat! Look at you, so pretty! But you’re too skinny, you should eat more! And you’re so tall! Seems like all the food went to your height, but you should still eat! Come! Eat, eat!”

“Alright, thank you ma’am. It smells so nice. I’ll make sure to eat as much as I can…”

I was right that she didn’t have any problems with her report card. She got mostly A’s and B’s, though her behavior evaluation was full in almost every page… seems like the teachers had a lot to say about that.

We spent the rest of the day watching, talking, and playing games. I sucked at it, but she didn’t mind and enjoyed playing anyway. And I suggested that she turn off her phone or at least turn off all the calls and text messages.

She didn’t turn it off, but she muted everything and left her phone in one place.

I thought I should do everything I can to distract her. It would have been pointless if I asked her to get away only to have her burdened with overthinking each time she gets a call or a text message.

She always went to school with this attitude as if she was carefree and ignorant. As if she could brush off any problems on her shoulders as if it were nothing. People thought she was cool. I thought of her that way too.

The way she always got good grades and never missed her homework. She was smart and pretty. She knew how to dress well and had this charisma wherever she went. Everyone loved her since she was down to earth and good at socializing. She got in trouble a few times, so that made her cool and mysterious. She was fun.

She was everything, and everyone wanted to be like her.

Yet, I had this guilt for her at times.

I would look at her as she laughed off her problems or rolled her eyes. She had her chin up and presented herself as this independent, carefree being that would be down for any challenges. Then, I saw how it would all go away for a split second when her phone rings. 

In that split moment, I felt guilty for not being able to be the friend she could turn to. How I wished she would look at me and ask for advice, or ask for my help. I couldn’t solve her problems, but I would go with her to do her errands. I would even defend her against her parents if she asked me to.

But, I respected that she didn’t want to tell me. I knew she was hoping that none of us wouldn’t notice. That’s why I pretended to not worry. If she wanted me to think that she was fine, then I would act as if she was fine.

I bet she knew that I noticed. Why else would she dare to cry in my arms like that?

And because of that, she probably judged that she didn’t have to hide anything from me anymore.

Before we went to bed, we decided to have a late night snack of ice cream in our pajamas. We decided to just share a room since we’re having a sleepover anyway. My mom found an old air mattress that could fit in the extra space of my room.

She sat there leaning against the wall.

“Thanks, by the way, for letting me stay. To your mom and dad, too.”

“No problem. I think they love having other people coming over. I used to love having sleepovers with my friends, but we don’t do it that much since we got into middle school.”

“Oh, really? That sounds fun. I never had any sleepovers.”

She took a bite of her ice cream.

That statement surprised me a bit. I thought she would have done things like this often considering how social she was.

“This is your first sleepover?!”

“Yeah, it’s fun. My parents never let me sleepover at a friend's house. They said it was a hassle to their parents, or they were worried if there was a man in their house ‘cause I’m a girl. And I never wanted my friends to stay over at my house, because…”

She trailed off, and looked as if she spaced out a bit. But, she continued immediately.

“I told you that my mom had a temper, right? She has anger issues,”

“Yeah.”

“Well, she also has other issues…”

I could tell.

I stretched myself to lie on my stomach and finished the rest of my ice cream as I listened to her.

“She would drink and smoke in the house. Actually, that might be why she has anger issues… whichever comes first, I don’t know. And she would fight with my dad almost every night. So, you know, I didn’t want to have anyone over with the intention of having a good time just to… listen to my parents fight.”

“Yeah, that makes sense. I would also avoid having people over when my parents are in a bad mood.”

“Thing is, it wasn’t actually that bad. It was just annoying. But, it has gotten worse since…”

And she trailed off again.

And I had the urge to say that she didn’t have to tell me if she didn’t want to.

And at the same time, I wanted to know. My selfishness won over. So, I let her speak.

“...There was one time where she acted as if she was getting better. She said she wanted to change, and she stopped drinking, and she asked my dad to lend her money for therapy… or something. And she said she was prescribed some kind of medicine, and she joined this support group or whatever. My dad believed her, so he would give her money every now and then.

“It was weird, because instead of getting better, she would take it out on me and my sister when my dad’s at work. I found out about her so-called ‘medicine’ and ‘support group’... basically she found gambling friends, and she got her ‘medicine’ from there.

“I was so mad. The whole time my dad worked my *ss off just so she could gamble his money away and do drugs? And I couldn’t stand it… It was so bad that she would break things and throw them away before my dad could see them. And I would’ve been fine! I would’ve been able to stand it all! But my… my sister is too young for this-”

Her words were clear and sharp. Her voice didn’t shake despite her face getting a little bit red and her eyes welled up a bit. She had a lot of anger that she held in for who knows how long.

I silently but quickly grabbed a box of tissues and just put it in front of her.

Her sister was four years younger, old enough to understand but shouldn’t have to. She was shielding her from understanding.

Back then, I didn’t have enough knowledge when it came to these kinds of things, and I was pretty insensitive. I asked her what I thought was rational.

“Did you tell your dad? Shouldn’t he know that your mom was lying about what she used the money for?”

“...I couldn’t tell him. If he knew, they would fight. And it’s not like he could do anything to stop her. She could act worse if he cut off her money. And it’s not like he could protect us from her all the time, he had to go to work.”

‘What about divorce?’

At least I had the sensitivity to not ask that out loud. 

So, that was why she would get in detention. She could avoid going home and getting errands if she were in a place where her mom couldn’t force her out of. And she would purposely stay there as long as she could until it reached the time her dad came home.

And she probably made sure to do all her errands to make sure her mom wouldn’t ask her sister to do it.

She took a tissue and blew her nose.

“The errands. You asked how I could buy those things in my room from the leftover money, right? You could probably guess already, but my mom would make me buy cigarettes, or pick up her prescribed ‘medicine’. It’s not that she didn’t care what I used the money for. It was basically a bribe, so I wouldn't blab to my dad. Shame on her, I wouldn’t have blabbed even if she didn’t bribe me anyway.”

She finally finished her ice cream after spending most of her time talking.

“It sucks, because despite all this… she’s my mother,”

That was the only time her voice trembled a bit.

She chuckled bitterly, “This might sound crazy, but if you overlook the temper, the smoking, drinking, and drugs, she’s actually a good mother.”

The last word was said with a subtle sting.

“She takes care of me and my sister since my dad works. She pays attention to our school needs, she cooks for us, she cleans the house, she teaches us things. She could have just been a good mother, why does she have to…”

That was when it hit me.

The whole time, I only saw her mother as an obvious villain.

When she said all that, I imagined my own mother. What if that had been my mom? If at some point, my mom got herself into something bad and she changed. Would I hate her? Could I hate her? 

I didn’t realize her considerations were more than just taking the burden for her sister and her dad.

After blowing her nose another few times, she took a deep breath.

“You were right, I really needed this just for a day. Ugh! Tomorrow’s gonna be a pain in the ass when I get back, though. But, thanks.”

“I meant it when I said I’ll come with you on your ‘errands’ or if you need me to bail you out from home.”

She laughed genuinely, “Thanks, but I don’t think I want anyone to come with me when I… actually, nevermind, I’ll call you if I change my mind about that.”

“Alrighty.”

I didn’t have any comfort words to offer her. I didn’t know how, because I couldn’t even imagine how she must have felt. I only had this sense of gratitude that I wasn’t in a position as bad as hers.

I immediately felt terrible for thinking that.

That was probably the first time that I noticed this trait. The feeling of relief that others were doing worse than me. 

When I first knew her, I thought about how unfair that she had it all. She had good looks, good grades, and good friends. Even though I had nothing against her for having that, I just kept wondering why it was harder for me to achieve those things.

Is it bad that when I found out about her family situation, my first thought was, ‘Well, so that’s what sucks in her life’? As if that made life fair.

It isn’t fair.

Then, I wondered if she thought that way when she came over to my house and met my mom.

Did she wish her mom was more… normal?

And I thought, perhaps she’d feel better if she knew what part of my life sucks and showed her my report card. She went through it to mock me and laugh about it. I laughed along with her. 

I hated that I struggled in school. I hated that I couldn't pass any test despite studying all the time. And I thought I’d hate it if people made fun of me for something I worked hard on.

But, I didn’t mind at all.

I hoped this made her feel like life was fair, even if just a little bit.

“Bhahaha! How did you even get zero on this one? I didn’t think a zero was possible! Hahaha!”

“Shut up! I tried to memorize it, but it was so hard! My brain glitched during the test and I mixed up everything!”

“Hahaha! You’re right, you only got all of these wrong because of a slight mistake, but because they’re all multiple choice questions, you get no points! Hahaha!”

After a while of chatting, she was laughing heartily as if she hadn’t been talking about her tragic life just a moment ago.

Talked about a lot of other things that night. I wanted to distract her again so she could have one night sleep without a thought of her family situation.

And we had so much fun talking, we didn’t realize it was almost 3 AM.

“Hahaha! We really should sleep!”

“Yeah, haha! Do you need more blankets? It gets really cold at night. Actually, it slipped my mind before, but can you really sleep on that mattress? It’s smaller than a regular mattress because I think it was when we used to go camping, I would sleep there when I was still little.”

“No, it’s fine! I sleep curled up anyway! Look, this is how I usually sleep.”

She plopped into bed and curled herself under the blanket.

“Pfft! You know, you’re so tall and skinny, I didn’t think you’d be so flexible that you can curl up like that! You look like a ferret!”

“What the f*ck!”

“I’m calling you ferret from now on! Hahaha!”

“No, you won’t! What the- What are you doing?”

“Changing your name to ‘Ferret’ in my contacts!”

“Hey, no! Stop! Gimme that!”

click her for the next post

[deedeedeedeedeedeedee]

I have found more recently, in reflecting on my own childhood in relation to growing up in a predominantly white area and institution as a black person, especially as a weird black girl; that there is this idea that we cannot achieve romance in the same ways as our peers. Black girls, in all areas, whether you were at a nearly all-white institution like myself, or in a place with more diversity, you are expected above everyone else to be “older.” Girls as a whole are told that we are more mature than boys, and that we should excuse boys’ actions because they don’t know better. However for young black girls, we’re reprimanded for fighting back against those things or questioning those ideas. We are treated like the idea of a crush is something frivolous and not worth spending time on.

While girls around me were given gifts on Valentine’s Day by a blushing boy, or pretended to be boyfriend and girlfriend on the playground - I was asked by boys if they could have the n-word pass.

It is a crushing realization that not many people consider and when you grow up around white people only, besides your own parents, it creates a sense of shame and that you are not assimilating well enough to be desired. Something that is far too complex to be considering at such a young age.

This overall may have to do with the unnecessary pressure and idea placed on us, that we are expected to be more “adult” than others. These young, white girls and boys do not see us as equal at times so they see us as someone they can tease, not someone they can chase.

According to Psychology today, black girls experience earlier puberty than those around them. Rather than simply seeing this as a simple biological difference, it is used against us to justify mistreatment.

Not only does this lead to false stereotypes of promiscuity from a very young age, but it propagates the idea that black girls are more “adult-like” and “fast.” We are expected to control how we respond to others actions, how we talk, and how we’re perceived before we’ve even made it to 6th grade. This has been shown to lead to harsher consequences for black students in schools, and a general disregard for their feelings as whole. Asking questions in a classroom setting is seen as “talking back,” and sarcasm is seen as “sassy.” We are expected to be high-class and generally we are expected to skip the joys of our adolescence as a whole.

When I was in 6th grade, I had a friend named John. Like all of my friends, John was white. While playing with John after school, John said to me, “most black people make me feel unsafe when I go to bad places, but you’re different.” As a child, I didn’t know how to feel about this initially. Eventually, I took it as a compliment, that I was defying the expectations of my peers and challenging the stereotypes that me and my internalized racism has fought so hard to do, in showing them that I wasn’t like “other” black people. A child should not have to worry about this or consider this and a child’s existence should not be a lesson for other children to learn.

Representation of us in the media does not help either, and that comes from all races. We are depicted from white audiences as loud, sassy, and “loose.” Though, if we are depicted to be more eccentric or weird, we’re seen as “whitewashed.” Which, the damage of declaring a black person “whitewashed” from any race is dangerous in it of itself as it implies that there is a correct way to be black.

Irregardless, the current landscape of America has not faired well in helping black women of all background and personalities. Even as intersectionality grows, we are treated as a monolith. Us being represented in roles that were not typically assigned to in media is seen as “woke” or unnecessary. The perception of black women in America needs to change as a whole, to not only be more inclusive, but to begin with the simple step that needs to be accomplished first — to see us as people.

[bellflowerbee]

Lingering Magic - Chapter One

ao3 // next

See summary, inspired by, and end notes on ao3

With a thick winter coat on, Marinette was strolling the streets of Paris - wandering around the dim streets. It was almost ten P.M., yet she had not spoken with her parents today. She had tried to tell them about the bullying problem she was facing from Chloe Bourgeois, yet they ignored her. They were always 'too busy with the bakery' and 'didn't have time for interruptions' to listen for even a minute. Marinette had come across the entrance to the lightless Parisian catacombs and felt almost drawn to it. 

She had cautiously wandered in, carefully avoiding any pools of water (is that water? It seems too thick, Marinette thought) and took a sharp right turn, leading to a dead end. She looked around, wondering what had drawn her here, why, and how that was possible when she saw a glint. With an inquisitive gleam in her eyes, Marinette cautiously stepped towards it, gently moving aside the moss, uncovering a black ring with a neon green paw print. 

A black glow extruded from it when she picked it up, about to put it on. It wasn't precisely a glow, but it was the best word to describe the light that absorbed the small amount of illumination from the room. Drawing Marinette in, she leaned closer when a creature suddenly emerged. While most kids her age would be terrified at the cat-esq thing floating in front of her, even as a six-year-old she did nothing but stand there, curious.

The creature floated in front of her momentarily before flying closer, seemingly inspecting her. Marinette finally spoke, “What are you?”

“I'm… your new friend! Yeah, your new friend. I'm Plagg,” the creature, who she now knew as Plagg, answered.

“Alright…” Marinette said, suspicious. She was very perceptive - her teachers had noted it in class, subsequently telling both her and her parents - and could tell Plagg wasn’t telling her the full truth. She accepted his flimsy excuse, figuring he had a good reason for not sharing. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too, kid. Now, put on your ring, it'll change to whatever you want it to!” Plagg informed, cheerful. He hadn’t had a good - or even decent - holder in a while and was optimistic about this small child. Often stolen off his holders’ bodies, he was grateful for a chance at a good holder.

Marinette excitedly put the ring on - changing it to a rose-gold band, not too thin but not too thick. She had sparkles in her eyes as she stared at it, giddy to have magic jewellery and - the best part - a friend! She had been without company for so long, other kids afraid of invoking Chloe’s wrath and her parents too busy to spend even an ounce of time with her. 

“Hey, you good, kid?” Plagg questions. He had seen the look in her eyes after he introduced himself as her friend and the look had gotten more intense after she put on the ring. 

Marinette responds carefully, “Yeah, it’s just that I’d never really had a friend before. All of the other students are scared of being bullied as well and my parents are always busy in the bakery. I've never even had company- before.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll never leave you,” Plagg promises.

“Are… are you sure?”

“Of course, Marinette”

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Marinette walked out of the catacombs and through the streets, retracing her steps to return to the bakery. Roughly twenty minutes later, Marinette arrived back home. Before she opened the door, Plagg pulled her to the side with a hissed “kid, kid!”

Marinette stepped into the alley next to her parent’s bakery, glancing down at her pocket where he resided, she gave him a questioning look, “What’s up?”

“I forgot to tell you back in the catacombs, but you can’t tell anyone about me.”

“Why?”

“Uhh, well-”

“-It’s okay, you don't have to tell me. I trust you, if you say not to tell anyone, I won't,” Marinette interrupts. She understands that he’s not going to tell her everything yet, noticing earlier that he didn’t even tell her exactly what he was. “It’s not like they listen to me anyways,” she adds in a whisper.

“I’m sorry, your parents don’t listen to you? Marinette, kid, that’s not right.”

“What do you mean? They’re always busy with the bakery, and they just don’t have time. We still have family dinners where Mamman will make my favourite dinner and we sit down as a family!”

“Do they talk to you? Let you talk to them?”

“Well, uh, kinda? I know they love me, though!”

“Marinette…”

“It’s alright, Plagg, I’m used to it.”

“You shouldn’t be.”

. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Months passed, Marinette and Plagg getting closer by the second, when he seemed to grow unnerved. Plagg had been flitting around Marinette’s room and avoiding eye contact with her. Although she pretended not to notice, she could tell he was thinking about something. Marinette considered asking him what was going on but determined it was best to leave Plagg to his thoughts. Figuring he would come to her in his own time and share when he was ready. 

Marinette picked up her favourite book and sat on her chase - reading was pretty much the only thing she did before Plagg came into her life. Of course, she would also play Ultimate Mecha Strike I, her favourite video game, but she’d have to go downstairs to the living room, a reminder of the lack of people in her life. She started going down there more often to play games with Plagg by her side, but Marinette decided to let him stew in his thoughts as opposed to asking him to come down with her. 

Cracking open the book, she buried her nose in it, silent. As she sat there, Plagg stared at her, unbeknownst to Marinette. He felt bad interrupting her - though if he didn’t tell her now, he probably wouldn’t have the courage again. Because of his past abuse, he was still hesitant to trust her with what he really is but felt it was best to tell her early on in their friendship. Besides, he had quite a good feeling about her - she had been nothing but kind despite her neglect. With a good feeling about her, he finally spoke, “Uh, sorry to interrupt, Marinette, but I have something to tell you.”

Marinette, after bookmarking and closing her book, swivelled on her chase. Looking at Plagg intently, she asked, “What’s up?”

“Well, uh, it’s kinda hard to tell you, but I’m not exactly who, what, I’ve led you to believe.” Marinette gave him a questioning look, though she knew something was up before this. Plagg continued, “I’m… a magical being. Commonly referred to as a god, but I, and the rest of my kind, prefer the word deity.”

Marinette looked on, awed that she had a deity in her room, that she had been living with a deity. Then, she caught on to his words, “Wait, I’m sorry, ‘the rest of my kind?’”

“Oh, uh, yeah. Us kwamis - that’s what we’re called - have been around since our concepts existed, although weren’t bound to the miraculous until the... Shang Dynasty, I believe? I’m destruction incarnate, so I’ve been around as long as my counterpart, Tikki - creation incarnate, and the others slowly came into existence.”

“How long have you and Tikki been around? What do the other kwamis represent? Just how many of you are there?-”

“- Alright, Sherlock, I’m gonna cut you off there. To answer your questions, though, Tikki and I have been around since the beginning of time, and there are too many kwamis to list what all of them represent. A few off the top of my head are Trixx with his illusions, Wayzz’s protection, and Nooroo’s transmission.”

“Cool,” Marinette whispered, “That's so cool.”

Plagg, looking proud, said “Yeah, it is-”

“- does that mean you can teach me magic?” she cuts off, eager”

“Maybe. Give it a year, kid.”

“Sweet! …Do you wanna go play UMS with me?”

“Hell yeah!”

[paralyze-fic]

Paralyze.

Chapter 77

While we kept picking up all the ice left, a group of people walked by, they stopped in front of us and congratulated our class' presentation. I smiled to myself and noticed those students with gloomy looks on their faces, it made me frown and worry that they might have not liked the song, but... they apologized to us, saying that they attended the performance just to make fun of our class and then ran away.

I blinked a few times as I stared at them when out of the corner of my eye I noticed Katsuki moving. I glanced at him and I saw a smug expression on his face. It made me chuckle as the words 'We won' were written all over his face even if he didn't say them.

I checked around for a moment, nobody was paying attention to us. People nearby were talking amongst them, and our classmates were discussing those two students who just left. So I took my chance. I stared at him while he melted the ice, I held his chin and turned him to face me, leaning down and pressing our lips together before he could say anything.

Our kiss lasted a second, just like a peck and saw him blushing like mad, stuttering before completely ignoring me, exploding the ice instead of melting it. The sound made everyone nearly jump, and they yelled at Katsuki for doing that while I just chuckled and went to pick up more ice.

As I was crouching down with my tray to pick up the chunks on the ground, Mineta rushed past me, obviously catching everyone's attention. When he was asked why he was being like that, he said a typical Mineta thing.

He wanted to watch the beauty contest.

And that reminded me that Nejire-senpai was gonna be participating in it and I wanted to go see her, so we did everything as quickly as we could.

//////

When we got to the stage where the contest was being held, I saw Amajiki-senpai next to Togata who had Eri in his arms, so I greeted them with a wave and a smile. Amajiki smiled shyly at me, a subtle blush on his face before looking at the ground, while Togata said 'Hi!' waving Eri's hand at me. The sight made me laugh, but soon a hard grip on my wrist was pulling me away, so I said a quick 'Bye', before looking at the male holding me.

Katsuki was taking me away from my senpais with a frown on his face.

Well, the contest went by, Nejire won and after that we kept going around, enjoying the Festival. Or well, I tried to enjoy it as much as I could because Katsuki kept taking me with him everywhere, refusing to let me go on my own.

I didn't mind it at all, it made me feel more comfortable, without forgetting the fact that Katsuki held my hand on more than one occasion even if there were people around us who could see us. But even if we were together going everywhere, at some point we got separated, and I ended up meeting up with Izuku.

"Hey, Izuku," I called out to him when I saw him walking towards the dorms, "Where are you going?" He turned around and smiled at me, looking down at the plastic bag in his hand.

"I wanted to make some candy apples for Eri-chan," the moment he said that I realized that I hadn't seen a food post that had them. He probably thought about that too beforehand and bought it earlier in the morning... Which reminded me... I still had to ask him what happened.

I smiled back at him and dropped my arm on his shoulder, "I'll go with you." And like that, we went to the dorm as quickly as we could to make them. Sato helped us a bit because neither of us had any idea what we were doing, even if we had Google to help us.

Well, overall, I had a lot of fun.

//////

Now, it was the end of the day, meaning everyone had to leave, including Togata and Eri, so we stood outside of U.A.'s front gates.

"Thanks for coming today! It was fun!" Izuku exclaimed with a bright smile on his face.

"Yeah..." She responded, and I glanced at him before nudging him gently when I noticed Eri looking down. "Eri-chan, look at us," she did as I said, and Izuku showed her the candy apple he was hiding behind him.

"Surprise!"

"Were they selling them somewhere? I couldn't find any!" Togata asked us with a surprised look on his face.

I shook my head from side to side while Izuku explained it, "After I looked at the program I thought they might not have any, so when I was out shopping I bought all the ingredients. Which was easy enough, aside from actually making them! The only thing the convenience store didn't have was the food coloring so I borrowed some from Sato-kun."

"Well, don't worry. You'll meet again soon enough," Aizawa added while we waited for Eri's reaction to the candy apple Izuku and I made for her.

Eri took a bite of it and a wide, bright smile showed on her face. "It's even sweeter..."

I crouched down and sweetly ruffled her white hair, "We'll have more for you, you can look forward to that," her smile grew even more and she nodded, before turning to hold Togata's hand as they were about to leave. I stood up and both of us waved at them goodbye, as soon as they were out of our sight I noticed Izuku looking down, staring at his hand.

I took a deep breath, resting my arm on top of his head, making him yelp and look up at me. I stared at him and raised an eyebrow at him, "So what happened today?" His eyes widened and he stuttered, shifting his gaze away from me.

"What do you-?" I ruffled his hair too, placing my arm on his shoulder instead.

"Don't play dumb, Midoriya-kun~," I muttered playfully, making us turn around to go back into the building so we could get change out of these outfits. "I wanna know what happened today and why you were late," he sighed but glanced at me again.

"Okay, I'll tell you..."

[unbanned-rescue-cat]

Clean up!

----------

Yano sighed. She looked over the classroom, with the tables and chairs in disarray. She turned her head to the windowsill, where a thin layer of dust was collecting. Ah, even the windows needed some wiping. Yano gripped her broom in her hands, before she bowed her head, sweeping the floor.

She could hear her fellow classmates outside, laughing and running about. It was the last class of the week, so it was no wonder everyone wanted to go and have fun with their friends.

"Friends..." Yano thought to herself, her lips pressed in a tight line. She gave the floor another aggressive sweep, not because there was some dirt.

"I knew it!"

Yano looked up to the sound of the familiar voice. Standing at the doorway of the classroom was Hime. She was peering inside, her hands on the door frame. She was smiling at Yano, as if she was glad to see her. "You're doing the cleaning by yourself?"

Yano smiled happily at Hime, but quickly hid it, and turned away, sweeping the same spot on the floor. "Yeah... The others had to go somewhere in a hurry... I prefer doing this alone, anyway."

"Again? This is the third time this week!" Hime sounded upset. "I bet they're lying having to leave."

"You're one to talk." Yano looked over her shoulder at Hime. She gave Hime a gentle smile, while the other girl gave an embarrassed giggle. "Did you need something? We don't have piano practice today."

Hime's eyes lit up, as she remembered her purpose. She's so easily distracted. "Oh, yeah! I heard there's some yummy crepes down the road! Wanna get some?"

Yano was about to answer. But paused, and remembered why she was still in class. She took a step back and shook her head. "I can't. I got to clean and organise the classroom. You go ahead without me."

For a moment, Hime stared at Yano, as if she was looking for something. Yano blushed at Hime's stare, not sure how shes supposed to respond. "What?"

"I see." Hime nodded her head, before she withdrew from the room. Now that Hime was gone, Yano sighed.

It was better this way. There was no way Yano would ask Hime to help her clean up. It was hard for Yano to imagine Hime doing chores, anyway. Hime has better things to do than help Yano. It was just a bit sad that Hime didn't even say goodbye.

Suddenly, Hime barged into the classroom, a bucket full of water and a wet rag in her hands. "I'll wipe down the windows and the desks!" Hime announced without even glancing at the surprised Yano.

"Hime? What are you doing-" Yano made a step towards the other girl. "You don't have to help me-"

"But I want to?" Hime was already doing her job, briskly wiping the windows. "Eating crepes wouldn't be as yummy if I know you're slaving here by your lonely self."

Yano was about to retort, and once more she stopped short. She pouted, watching Hime's back before she continued her sweeping.

"I'm not lonely..." Yano softly said.

It took the two grade schoolers an hour until the room was tidy. Usually, Yano worked by herself quietly, with her thoughts keeping her company. But with Hime there to talk to, she wasn't lonely.

"I'm not lonely." Yano smiled to herself, as she looked over the clean classroom. Hime nudged her shoulders with Yano, as she lugged her bucket with both hands.

"Hmmm? What was that just now?" Hime asked with a sly smile. Yano giggled, as she closed the classroom door. Yano replied with a shake of her head, which made Hime pout. "Hey! That's not fair! I just saved you, you know!"

"Yes. You did save me." Yano smiled brightly. Hime's pout disappeared, and her cheeks flushed as Yano kept smiling. "You saved me, Hime." She said again, this time to the broom she was holding.

"I heard you the first time! Geez!" Hime sighed, as she and Yano walked down the hall. "There's probably no more crepes left. We'll have to try get away earlier together next time. And I was looking forward to it, too! I got my allowance and everything!"

"I could... give you a reward..." Yano said with a shy smile. She stole a glance at Hime.

"Reward? Sure, why not?" Hime said casually. "I'm not going to say no."

Yano, without losing a beat, wrapped her arms around Hime, and gave her a loving embrace. The other girl cried out in surprise, making awkward noises as she swung her bucket away from Yano. "Yano! Careful! This still has water in it-"

"Thank you, Hime."

Yano's words were soft, and if she didn't say it next to Hime's ears, no one would have heard it. Hime let out a breath, taking her reward with gratitude.

"Next time, if you need help, just ask me. Okay?"

"Okay..." Yano hugged Hime tighter, letting go of her broom. It clattered on the floor loudly, but it was only the two girls who heard it.

[raynelovesyoongi]

Love me again

The world doesn’t revolve around you. || Chapter Four

Paring: Xu Minghao x Fem!Reader

Warnings: cussing,drinking,mentions of death(nobody dies lol)that’s it I think..

Wordcount:2,525

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Minghao cleared his throat unintentionally, a habit he always had. He didn’t mean to make any noise because he was planning on just leaving and acting like he hadn’t just heard you spill your love for him, but now that he’s made a noise along with Seokmin’s loud gasp, he couldn’t leave. You freed yourself from Seungkwan's grasp and looked up to see who was there. When you made eye contact with Minghao, you froze. Seungkwan knew he had to do something, but he didn’t know what exactly to do, so he acted out of instinct and ran away from everything while dragging you with him. Leaving Seokmin stunned, he slowly turned around to get a look at Minghao with his mouth hanging wide open. Minghao closed Seokmin's mouth and was about to leave before Seokmin grabbed his wrist. “What are you going to do? Do you like her too? Oh my god, this is amazing! I’m finally witnessing my bitchless friend pull... They grow up so fast.” Seokmin said while wiping fake tears.

"Seokmin, this isn’t a joke. It’s serious, so stop treating it like one.”

“Ah, sorry. You’re right. So then what will you do?”

“Nothing.” Minghao didn’t let Seokmin respond because he left and went back into class, apologizing to the teacher about what happened. He sat down and acted like nothing had happened. It seemed that other people in the class didn’t notice your breakdown or your absence, so he knew you’d at least be glad for that. You were extremely embarrassed; you didn’t want Minghao to find out you still loved him like that. Seungkwan stood by your side until you calmed down. You guys decided to skip the rest of school. Dino was throwing a small party for close friends to just hang out and have fun tonight. Seungkwan knew he had to cheer you up now, and waiting for the party was going to take far too long, so instead, he took you to a karaoke bar. You guys got yourself a private room and ordered some drinks and snacks before singing.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS?" Mingyu said loudly on the phone that you heard Seungcheol tell him to shut up and stop being so loud. You forgot they were still in class; you could see Dino, Vernon, and Woozi in the back of the FaceTime screen. You flipped your camera to show that you were at a karaoke bar and showed your drinks.

"You're drinking this early? God help you. What am I going to do with you guys?" You heard Woozi sigh while holding his forehead. You didn’t say anything but giggled before hanging up. Seungkwan was still singing his heart out while taking sips from his drink in between the lyrics. You joined in, and as the hours passed, it got later. Seungkwan had tapped out and was just laying on the sofa, trying to keep himself awake. He had to go to that damn party Dino was hosting. You were also wasted, but not as bad as Seungkwan. You two began ranting about whatever came to mind. You excused yourself and went to the bathroom before you got a notification. ‘Is what you said about Minghao true? You really like him?’ You read the text and felt sick to your stomach thinking about what had happened earlier today. You were so distracted by having fun that you almost forgot about it all, but Seokmin just had to text you about it. You ignored it and rushed to the toilet, holding your stomach. After a few minutes of making sure you weren’t going to puke, you fixed yourself up and headed to the room where Seungkwan was waiting for you. He was asleep, so you gently nudged him awake. He woke up after a few nudges and let you carry him to the bus stop. It was obvious you guys were both intoxicated, but nobody said anything. You got on the bus and made it to Dino’s and Mingyu’s dorm.

"Holy shit you reek of alcohol! Both of you!” Seungcheol covered his nose and made a fake gagging sound. Seungkwan pushed through him and sat down on the couch. You hugged everyone before stealing Dino’s drink.

"Don't you think you had enough already, Y/N?" Mingyu looked at you with a slightly worried face, mixed with a disgusted face.

"Don't you think you should shut up?” You said it sarcastically, making the group laugh because Mingyu looked deeply offended.

"You're going to die from liver problems! Don’t say I didn’t warn you." Mingyu scoffed and threw a piece of chicken at you. Vernon caught it and ate it. The night went on, and you guys played board games, watched movies, ate, and drank. It was all so fun until you got on your phone and saw Seokmin's message that you haven’t replied to yet. You felt yourself becoming dizzy; were the drinks getting to you or were you just overthinking about the whole Minghao situation? You had no idea, but you knew you wanted that feeling to go away, so you grabbed yourself some water. When you opened the water, you took a sip and then made a disgusted face because the “water” burnt your throat. “Y/n!!! That’s my alcohol back off!!"Mingyu snatched the bottle from your hands and put it back in the fridge.

"Who the hell puts fucking alcohol in a goddamn water bottle? Asshole!”

“Obviously I do!” You guys went back and forth about putting alcohol in a water bottle; apparently Mingyu had put it in the bottle so he could sneak it to school, and he had the nerve to judge you earlier for drinking so much?

The group was passed out while you continued drinking; you weren’t sleepy because you knew if you tried going to sleep, you wouldn’t be able to anyway. You grabbed your phone and kept staring at Minghao’s page—the posts of you that he still had up. You looked to see if you still had his number on your phone, and you did. Your finger lingering over the call button, you sighed and decided not to call. Yes, you were drunk, but you knew better than to drunk call your ex. You went out to the balcony because you felt like you were suffocating in that damn dorm. You pulled out your phone and found your finger lingering over the call button once again. This time you had accidentally pressed the call button instead of exiting out. You freaked out, and your phone wouldn’t let you hang up for some reason. You were so shaky that you kept missing the hang-up button until you heard a voice speak. “Y/n?” You felt your heart drop. It had already been too late to turn back, so you wanted to make it seem intentional, not like an accident, so you cleared your throat and started talking. The tremble in your voice made it obvious you were nervous.

“Minghao…”

“Y/n..?” Minghao sounded confused. Hell, if you were in his shoes right now, you’d be confused as well. “Why’d you call? Are you alright? Are you hurt?”

“No… I have a—why do you—it makes—and why—" Your words came out slurred, with only a few words being audible.

“Y/n, are you drunk? I can’t understand you; where are you?” Minghao asked worriedly; he had no idea where you were or who you were with. Yeah, he may have been a little mean, lying on your name and not talking to you after hearing you confess your love for him unintentionally, but he wasn’t a complete asshole. He still had human decency and cared about your well-being. You didn’t answer; instead, you hung up and felt your eyes closing. You couldn’t keep yourself up any longer, so you used all the strength you had left to go back inside and make it to the couch. As soon as your head hit the fluffy cushions, your eyelids gave up, and you immediately fell into a deep slumber. However, Minghao couldn’t sleep after you called him. He found himself tossing and turning; he called you three times after you hung up; he even went as far as calling Seungkwan on Instagram after finding his account from Seokmin's tags. Nobody answered him.

Minghao woke up from a restless sleep. All night he was thinking, and it felt as if he hadn’t slept at all in days. There wasn’t any school today because of the bad weather. Minghao clicked on your contact and was debating whether he should text you or not. “Minghao! Let’s go get some coffee. I tried going back to sleep after I got the email that we didn’t have school, but I can’t! I need something to wake me up.” Junhui yawned and knocked on the door.

"Same here, let me get washed up.” Minghao made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth and shower. He looked at himself in the mirror. Already? Only after one night of not sleeping well? He groaned before putting toothpaste on his toothbrush. It took him a while before he was finally finished getting cleaned up. “I’m ready, Jun; let’s head out now before the weather gets worse.” Jun nodded and put on his coat; Minghao did the same as they walked out the door together. The cafe was a bit packed considering that it was the morning and people came in to wake themselves up with caffeine. Minghao stood in line with Junhui, and when they reached the register, Minghao didn’t expect to see you. “Glad to see you’re okay.” Minghao said, sounding slightly irritated, he was pissed off that you looked alight while he was suffering from the restless night he had, but he would be lying if he said he didn’t let out a sigh of relief when he saw you were okay. Junhui was confused, and so were you. What was he talking about? Minghao could tell you were confused, so he took matters into his own hands. “Jun I’ll order your drink, go ahead and wait at the pick-up section." Junhui followed Minghao's orders. Minghao had Junhui leave so he could talk to you one-on-one. “You drunk called last night. I couldn’t understand you, and you just hung up. What the hell were you on about?” You thought about what happened last night, and it all came flowing in. You were obviously embarrassed. “Delete my number, y/n. I don’t want any contact with you."

"Then why do you still have our posts up? Why haven’t you deleted them yet?” You were hurt by Minghao’s words, and at this point you were saying anything to keep him talking to you. You knew what you were saying barely made any sense replying to what he said, but you really were wondering why he hasn’t deleted them.

“What do you mean? What posts?” Minghao pulled out his phone and checked to see what you were talking about. “Oh, you're talking about these.” Minghao paused and laughed while running his fingers through his hair before he continued, “You know I’m not a social media person, I just forgot to delete them. If it makes you happy, I’ll delete them now.”

“You’re an asshole.”

"Do you want me to delete them or not? Make up your mind.” You were about to say something before the people behind Minghao in line were beginning to grow tired of your long conversation. Minghao left, and you knew he wouldn’t talk to you after this unless you spoke to him first. You cursed under your breath, pissed off at the ruined chance at finally being able to clear things up. You took the next order and switched positions with Mark; he took over the register while you made the drinks. You gave Junhui’s first but made sure to leave Minghao’s on the other counter. You were going to speak to Minghao no matter what.

"Minghao, why are you avoiding me? I thought you were all about ‘communication is key’ so what the hell snuck up your ass?"

"It's too early for this y/n, I’ll call you later. Just give me my drink and let me leave."

“Stop lying! I know you won’t call me, so please just speak to me now.” At this point, you sounded desperate. Minghao almost gave in but decided to leave without his drink. Mark overheard the conversation and told you to leave early since you were supposed to leave in 10 minutes anyway. You left but couldn’t find Minghao or Junhui anywhere. You walked back home with a heavy heart while listening to your playlist. The song made you even more sad, so you switched it to an upbeat song so you could at least lift your mood a bit. You knew Minghao wouldn’t call you, so when you got home and were feeling bold, you texted him first. ‘Minghaooo..’ All the confidence left your body, and you got nervous, so you did whatever you could to distract yourself from looking at your phone every second to see if he saw your message. You cleaned your room, cleaned the living room, kitchen, bathroom, even Miyeon’s room, and finished it all off by taking a long shower. When you got out, you tried to keep yourself from gabbing your phone but gave in and checked to see if Minghao had responded, and he did. ‘I knew you’d text. I was going to block you but felt bad.' You knew you should’ve been hurt by the fact he admitted to wanting to block you, but your heart skipped a beat when he said he’d feel bad. You saw that he sent another message under the previous one a few minutes later. ‘Call me when you can. I’m free all day.’ You wasted no time calling him; you haven’t even gotten dressed yet. The phone ringing made you anxious. You were biting your nails nervously and were wondering if you should hang up after the 5th ring came up. While you were lost in your thoughts, you heard his voice.

“Y/n..” You missed calling him, you missed hearing him say your name, you missed his voice. You missed him.

“Minghao..”

He awkwardly cleared his throat and spoke again. “Why were you working today? I thought you worked in the afternoons."

"I do. I was working this morning because Sakura had gotten sick, so I covered for her. Why? Did you you memorize my shift? Are you still in love with me?” You regretted your last words as soon as they left your mouth; you forgot you were talking to your ex and not a friend. It was silent for a bit before he cleared his throat once more.

"No, nothing like that. The world doesn’t revolve around you. You do know that, right? I was only asking because last time we met at the cafe, you were working an afternoon shift.” You were embarrassed, and his annoyed tone made you want to crawl into a hole and die.

"Yeah, I’m sorry. It just slipped out."

"You're fine. don’t worry, anyway." Minghao was nervous, and you could tell by the way he kept clearing his throat.

"I miss you, Minghao.”

A/n: SORRY for the delay ig.. 😞☝️ here’s chap four and sorry for making y/n a lul weirdo lol