#had to make a separate set for just this moment 🤎
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moonpascal · 5 months ago
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IN THE SHADOW OF MEMORY
CHAPTER ONE series masterlist
SUMMARY II WC: 3k
When a careless spell erases her memories of Theo, he’s left grappling with the pain of being forgotten. As she returns to seeing him as just another Slytherin, Theo must navigate a world where the love they shared no longer exists—at least, not in her mind. But Theo refuses to give up. He’ll do whatever it takes to remind her of the connection they once had.
WARNINGS: angst, fighting, not 100% canon compliant 
DEDICATION
thank you so much to @amiableness for helping me with chapter! i don’t know what i would do without you and giving me motivation to write this! i love you! 🤎
thank you to @mischievousmoony for helping my brain block i was having and helping me with ideas, you’re amazing and i love you! 🫶🏼
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"Is the coast clear?" you whisper to Theo, your heart pounding in your chest. Sneaking into the Room of Requirement had always been nerve-wracking, but with the additional new rules Umbridge had enforced and the rising threat of Voldemort, it felt more dangerous than ever. Even more so because Theo was betraying his own house and friends to be here.
Theo takes another quick glance down the corridor, then nods. He reaches for your hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he pulls you out from your hiding spot.
You both move swiftly and silently toward the wall where the entrance to the Room of Requirement appears. You glance behind you, double-checking to make sure no one is following, before Theo tugs you inside.
Inside, the room is already alive with the sound of practicing defense spells. You and Theo head to the corner that has unofficially become your spot. Some of the others still cast wary glances at Theo, unsure if they can trust a Slytherin among them. Only the Golden Trio seems comfortable with his presence.
As you settle in, the adrenaline from sneaking around begins to subside, but your worry for Theo doesn’t. You can’t help but think about the risks he's taking—defying his father's beliefs, lying to his friends, putting himself in danger—all because he believes in making a change. You know how much he cares for them, and it breaks your heart that he's forced to choose between them and doing what’s right.
You shift closer to Theo, your hand resting lightly on his knee, a silent attempt to anchor him. He’s still tense, his eyes sweeping the room as if on constant alert. Instead of reaching for the textbook like usual, he closes it and sets it aside, surprising you.
“I think we both know enough for now,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with exhaustion. “Let’s practice today instead.”
You know the purpose of these meetings is to practice spells, but the thought of doing so in front of your peers makes your stomach twist with anxiety. The fear of messing up or accidentally hurting someone lingers in your mind, making the idea of participating overwhelming.
Theo, ever attuned to your emotions, senses your hesitation. He gently pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and rubbing your arm in a soothing gesture. “We’ll start simple,” he whispers reassuringly, his lips brushing against the side of your head in a tender kiss. “Just a quick Expelliarmus. You’ve got this.”
His warmth and steady presence begin to melt away your nerves, making the idea of practicing a little less daunting. With Theo by your side, you feel like you can handle whatever comes next.
Reluctantly, you pull away from his embrace, already missing the warmth. Moments like these—where you could be close to him without worrying about prying eyes—were rare. Even in the hallways, you could barely walk side by side without Umbridge or Filch barking at you to separate.
You stand, shrugging off your robe to give yourself more freedom of movement, and follow Theo to an open space.
“Alright, you know the movement, and you’ve seen it done. You’ve got this, amore,” Theo encourages, his words ringing with confidence.
Your muscles tense. If you mess up, the spell could do more than just disarm him; it could knock him out. But when Theo flashes that smile—the one that always makes your heart skip—you find yourself believing you can do it.
You take your stance, feeling the weight of the moment as Theo prepares himself, raising his wand as if ready to duel. With a deep breath, you steady yourself and shout, “Expelliarmus!” The spell shoots out from your wand, hitting its mark perfectly. Theo’s wand flies across the room, landing with a clatter as relief floods through you.
Theo’s grin widens as he claps and cheers, “I knew you could do it, tesoro!”
You watch him jog to retrieve his wand, a warmth spreading through your chest. How did you get so lucky to have him? He’s your anchor, the reason you keep pushing forward. He makes you want to be better, to reach higher.
When Theo returns, he places his hands on either side of your face, his eyes shining with pride. “See? You were amazing. Nothing to worry about,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. He leans in, and you meet him halfway, your lips brushing softly against his.
The kiss is slow and tender, each movement gentle as if savoring the moment. You taste the faint remnants of cigarettes and the sweetness of his breakfast. It’s a kiss that speaks of quiet reassurance, of the bond you share, strong and unwavering.
But then you remember where you are, in front of everyone. You pull back, your lips lingering just a moment longer before you peck his lips one last time, a small smile playing on your face.
“I love you, Theo,” you whisper, your foreheads touching, the world around you fading away as you both savor the closeness of the moment.
But as the saying goes, all good things must come to an end.
As you and Theo are lost in your own world, Harry is practicing a spell, the weight of the war and the responsibility of training others pressing heavily on him. The stress shows in his furrowed brow as he skims through spells in his textbook, landing on Obliviate, the charm to erase specific memories. Whatever memories Harry wants to erase is up for debate, but he doesn’t fully grasp the complexity of the spell.
With only a quick glance at the incantation, he swishes and flicks his wand, but nothing happens. Frustration builds as he tries again, more forcefully, but to no avail. Sweat slicks his palm, and with a sharp, aggressive flick, his wand slips from his grip.
Sparks fly out, ricocheting off the floor and walls. Harry tries to shout a warning, but it’s too late. The spell rebounds, hitting the back of your head and sending you flying into Theo.
Theo barely reacts in time, catching you as you collapse into his chest, limp and unresponsive. His arms instinctively wrap around you as he kneels, lowering you gently to the floor.
You look as if you’re merely asleep, but your breaths come slow and shallow. Panic seizes Theo as he brushes your hair out of your face, his voice trembling.
“Amore, come on, wake up. It’s okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, his mind racing for what to do.
A crowd of students gathers around you both, their whispers only fueling Theo’s panic. He snaps, his voice a sharp contrast to the desperation in his heart. “Who did this?!” he demands, his eyes wild as they scan the frightened faces.
“It was me, I’m sorry, I—” Harry begins, but Theo is on him in an instant, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him close, his rage palpable.
“You’re dead, Potter!” Theo snarls, his grip tightening.
Fred and George are quick to intervene, pulling Theo off Harry, while Ron helps steady his shaken friend. “Let’s calm down, yeah?” Fred says, trying to reason with Theo. “We need to get her to Madam Pomfrey. She’ll be okay.”
“She better be,” Theo threatens, his voice low and dangerous. He shrugs off the twins and returns to your side, his heart hammering in his chest as he watches your shallow breaths. When someone offers to help, he waves them off, scooping you up in his arms and pushing past everyone, his focus solely on getting you to safety.
Adrenaline courses through him, fueling his every step as he rushes through the empty corridors—thank Merlin—for six floors until he finally bursts into the hospital wing.
He wastes no time, laying you gently on one of the beds. Madam Pomfrey turns to scold him, but the words die in her throat when she sees your unconscious form.
“What happened?” she asks, her tone sharp with concern.
“She was fine one second, then something hit her head, and she just… collapsed,” Theo says, trying to keep his explanation as vague as possible to avoid suspicion.
“It’s okay, Theodore,” Madam Pomfrey reassures him, her voice softening. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious. Let me examine her. Just breathe, grab a chair, alright?”
Theo nods, though he can hardly think straight. He watches anxiously as Madam Pomfrey performs a series of diagnostic spells, her brow furrowing as each result comes back normal.
“I’m not finding anything out of the ordinary, Nott,” she finally says, puzzled. “She seems perfectly fine, just asleep.”
But Theo isn’t looking at her. He’s holding your hand, his thumb gently stroking your skin as he wills you to wake up.
“We’ll wait until she comes around, okay? I’ll let you stay with her overnight to keep an eye on things,” Madam Pomfrey says, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder before drawing a partition around your bed to give you both some privacy.
As soon as she’s gone, Theo chokes back a sob, his worst fears clawing at him. He knows something is wrong—no one just falls unconscious like that from a spell. He pulls the thin blanket up to cover you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your temple.
“I love you too, amore. You’re gonna be okay, alright?” he whispers, his voice cracking as he desperately hopes for a response, his heart aching in the silence.
———
Theo stirred awake as he felt a sudden movement beneath him. His eyes opened groggily, his head lifting from where it had been resting on your stomach, his arm still wrapped around your waist. The scratchy hospital wing blanket was a far cry from the soft one you were used to, but Theo had barely noticed, too consumed by worry to care about his own discomfort.
As you rubbed your eyes harshly, Theo blinked a few times to clear the sleep from his own, running a hand through his tousled hair. He sat up straighter, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep, when he heard your voice—sharp, confused.
“Nott? What are you doing here? And why am I in the hospital wing?”
Theo’s heart dropped. The way you said his name—Nott, not Theo, not love—sent a chill through him. He tensed, trying to keep his voice steady. “Tesoro, you were hit in the head, remember?” He reached out for your hand, desperate to offer some comfort, but you jerked it away before he could touch you.
“This isn’t funny, Nott! What prank are you and your friends pulling now?” Your glare was like a knife to his chest, cutting deep. Theo’s mind raced, trying to process what was happening. This wasn’t right—this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay calm even as panic clawed at him. The way you looked at him, the suspicion and anger in your eyes, made everything clear that something was terribly wrong.
“Please, just listen to me—” he started, but the words felt hollow. His worst fears were playing out right in front of him, and he didn’t know how to make it stop.
Theo jumped to his feet and rushed toward Madam Pomfrey, who was just arriving at the entrance to the hospital wing.
“She’s awake, but she’s acting like she doesn’t know me—please, you have to help,” Theo pleaded, his voice cracking with desperation. He wasn’t one to beg, not unless it was to you, but now the words spilled out uncontrollably, fear gripping his heart.
Madam Pomfrey nodded, quickly following him back to your bedside. You were sitting up, fiddling with your hands, a deep scowl etched on your face. Theo’s stomach churned at the sight—he knew that scowl too well, but it had been a long time since it had been directed at him.
“Good morning, dear! How are you feeling?” Madam Pomfrey asked, her voice warm and calm as she began to check your vitals.
You shrugged, casting a wary glance at Theo, who hovered behind the nurse, his heart pounding in his chest. “I feel okay, just confused about how I ended up here.”
“Alright, I’m going to ask you a series of questions, and I want you to answer them to the best of your ability, alright?”
You nodded, and Madam Pomfrey proceeded with the standard questions—what year it was, who the Minister of Magic was, what you did yesterday. You answered each one correctly, with ease, but Theo’s dread only deepened with every word. Everything you said lined up, except for one glaring omission—there was no mention of him. Not in any of it.
Madam Pomfrey paused, her gaze flicking to Theo before she asked the question that made his blood run cold. “Do you know him?” she asked, pointing to Theo.
You rolled your eyes and huffed, your irritation clear. “Yeah, he’s Theodore Nott, Slytherin. Which I’m still confused about—why is he here?”
Theo felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. The way you looked at him, the casual indifference in your voice, transported him back to a time before everything had changed—before you had opened your heart to him. It was as if the last year and a half had been erased, and the weight of that realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He sucked in a deep breath, trying to keep it together, but the familiar coldness in your eyes made it nearly impossible to breathe.
Theo felt his world collapse around him. He couldn’t stay in that room, couldn’t bear to see you look at him like he was a stranger. As Madam Pomfrey explained to you that you’d been hit in the head and Theo had brought you in, he bolted from the hospital wing, stumbling into the hallway. He leaned against a cold stone column, clutching his chest as panic set in. His heart raced uncontrollably, his breaths shallow and ragged. It was another panic attack, but this time, you weren’t there to help him through it. You didn’t even remember him. All those memories—the ones he cherished most—were gone. And it was all because of Potter.
His vision tunneled, everything blurring except for one thought: Harry had done this. He was the reason Theo’s entire world had been ripped away. And Harry was going to pay.
Theo knew exactly where to find him. He’d memorized Harry’s schedule down to the minute, having spent so much time with you before breakfast as you walked with Hermione and Harry. If he timed it right, he’d catch Harry just before he entered the Great Hall.
As Theo rounded the corner, he spotted the trio ahead. They noticed him too, and he saw the tension rise in their shoulders. But Theo was too far gone to care about what they thought. All he saw was Harry—the cause of all this pain.
Without hesitation, Theo marched straight up to them. His usual calm, calculated demeanor was gone, replaced by a storm of raw, unfiltered anger. He shoved Harry hard, sending him stumbling back, barely managing to stay on his feet.
“Nott, let’s talk about this,” Harry started, his voice laced with caution.
“What was the spell, Potter?” Theo demanded, his voice rough with barely contained fury.
“It was an accident!” Harry insisted, his eyes wide with desperation. “It was Obliviate. I swear, I didn’t mean to hit her!”
Theo’s hand shot out, grabbing Harry by his robe, pulling him close enough to feel the heat of his breath. A twisted smile played on Theo’s lips as he tightened his grip. “Oh, but I’m going to mean to hit you.”
He drew back his fist, ready to make Harry pay for everything he’d taken from him. But just as he was about to strike, your voice cut through the chaos, stopping him cold.
“Nott, what the hell are you doing?!” you yelled, rushing toward them, your eyes flashing with anger.
Harry immediately tried to shield you from the truth. “Trouble, it’s fine, really—”
“No, it’s not fine!” you interrupted, glaring at Theo as you pushed him away from Harry. “I’m sick of Slytherins picking on you-us for no reason!”
Theo felt his heart shatter as he watched you fix Harry’s robe, your attention entirely on his supposed enemy. You had no idea what Harry had done, what he had stolen from both of you.
When you finally turned back to Theo, the disgust in your eyes was a knife to his heart. “You’re pathetic, Nott, and you’ll never change,” you spat, the venom in your words leaving him reeling.
The surrounding students watched in stunned silence, the full weight of what had just happened sinking in. They now understood why Theo had been so close to breaking Harry’s face.
As you turned your back on him and walked away with your friends, Theo stood there, frozen. The disappointment in your eyes, the harshness of your words—it was too much. He felt like he might collapse under the weight of it all. But instead, he just stood there, watching you disappear into the Great Hall, his world crumbling around him.
Your words echoed in his mind, each one cutting deeper than the last. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms as he fought to keep from breaking apart. He wanted to scream, to lash out, but all he could do was stand there, helpless and shattered.
The hallway, once filled with tension, was now eerily silent, the students having scattered. Theo was left alone in the aftermath, cold and hollow, the life drained out of him in those few, terrible moments. You had been his anchor, his reason to believe in something beyond the darkness that had always surrounded him. And now you were gone, ripped away by a single, careless spell.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, but when he finally moved, it was like a switch had flipped inside him. He couldn’t let this be the end. He couldn’t lose you. There had to be a way to fix this, to bring you back to him. And if he had to tear the world apart to do it, he would.
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first divider @saradika-graphics
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collisvng · 1 year ago
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CHAPTER 2 | THE MEANING OF PAS DE DEUX
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THE END ZONE 🏈🩰✨
Pairing 🤎 Seo Changbin x Fem! Reader︎
Genre 🤎 SMAU, University/College AU, Ballett/Football AU, Fluff, Angst, Crack—all of that good shit lol︎
Synopsis 🤎 By recommendation of his coach, Changbin decides to take a ballet class in order to improve his agility and coordination on the field. It seems like a harmless and fun activity at first. But what happens when his ballet partner starts to make him choose between the two?
Warnings 🤎 Slight swearing, brief mention of food, Felix being annoying (but we love him tho lol)
Taglist 🤎 Open!︎ ✨
Word Count 🤎 2,173 + 10 sm screenshots!
In Collaboration With 🤎 @channie-143
✨️MASTERLIST✨️
©collisvng (2023) — all rights reserved. reposts/modification of our work is not tolerated.
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THE UNIVERSITY’S FOOTBALL FIELD WAS THE LAST PLACE YOU EVER EXPECTED TO FIND YOURSELF. 
After being given very specific instructions to go through a specific way that led you specifically to the perfect spot on the bleachers for you to be easily noticed—courtesy of Felix who totally isn’t the university’s mascot—you found yourself setting your bag next to you as you sat down to watch the boys do their thing.
It was strange being there. You never considered yourself a sports person and knew quite little about anything to do with the sort. The most experience you ever had with even just the topic of sports being brought up was the few times Seungmin would go on one of his little tangents about baseball. There were also the few times Felix would slip up about football, but it was never prominent enough for you to take notice of.
Legs crossed, phone in hand, you stayed in your spot hoping for someone to say something about your presence. After a while, a few guys on the field started to look your way. Most looked confused while others almost seemed as if they were trying to show off. You didn’t see Changbin though. Or at least you couldn’t make out which guy was him.
After Felix’s 5th wrap-around of the field (ignoring you while doing so, I might add) and noticing your phone battery was at a lower percentage than you expected, you almost decided to give up.
It wasn’t until you heard a slight nasally yell followed by a giggly chuckle that you finally spotted the man.
He ran across the field to promptly smack one of his teammates for messing around and teasing him about his height. He started yelling. Curly black hair fell into his eyes as he took his helmet off, continuing his scolding. His incessant bickering was abnormally adorable to you.
And the laugh that left his teammates’ mouth was lighthearted and cheerful… and almost strangely familiar. 
It was around this time you started to notice all eyes were on you except Changbin’s. You debated calling for him, but your actions swayed when you noticed one of his other teammates waving at you. He was somewhat taller, his hair was dark and short, and he had what you could only describe as the nose of a Greek god. The guy nodded in your direction as if to ask why you were there, to which you responded with a quick point in Changbin’s direction and exaggeratingly mouthing his name.
A quick, “Oh, okay!” was mouthed to you in response alongside him giving you a thumbs up.
The teammate walked over Changbin amidst his rant and tapped him on the shoulder. He seemed annoyed, probably assuming he was simply about to be told to quit fighting. It wasn’t until his teammate pointed to you standing up from your seat with a shy smile on your face did his expression suddenly change into the biggest grin you had ever seen. 
He jogged over in your direction with his helmet under his arm as you made your way down the bleachers. When you reached the bottom, you gripped the handrail barrier separating you from the field. One of your knees rested against one of the smaller beams of the railing as you leaned forward with anticipation. 
The moment a small ‘hi’ left his lips, the happiness embedded in your nervous system was hard to hide.
“Hey.”
“What are you doing here?” He questioned, raising his brow. “I didn’t really take you as a sports-type.”
“That would be correct,” you nodded. “Which is why I am not here for sports…”
You quickly unlocked your phone and held it out to him, leaning into the railing a bit more for support.
“… I’m here for you.”
Changbin stood there dumbfounded. He just stared down at your screen as if the concept of giving a girl his number was the most foreign thing in the world to him. His grip on his helmet grew tighter as he let out the most tense laugh in the universe. It became obvious to you that this ordeal seemed completely different to you then it was to him.
“Oh my gosh, stop overreacting.” The roll of your eyes came out a little less playful then you had hoped. “It’s not like I’m asking you out or anything, okay? I’m just asking for your number because we agreed I would catch you up on stuff for class.”
He nervously nodded as he took your phone in hand.
“Right, yeah, I knew that…”
As he proceeded to put his number in your phone, you looked off into the distance to see the teammate he was yelling at previously staring at you as if you seemed familiar to him; akin to the way you looked back at him.
“That guy you were talking to looks familiar.”
“Oh, Jeongin?” Changbin handed you the phone back.
“Ah, that name sounds familiar…” You nodded. “I think he’s friends with my friend Seungmin.”
“We all kinda know Seungmin,” he shrugged in response. “Since he’s also in charge of the sports section for the school paper, we see him a lot.”
“Makes sense.”
After a bit of awkward small talk, the two of you concluded that you would reserve a room in the dance hall over the weekend. You’d go over the basics he needed to know before the next class, and if he had any questions that needed extensive explanation you promised you’d answer them.
He walked back to his teammates with a cheeky grin as they all began asking him questions about who you were and why you had given him your phone. It amused you to see the group of men all huddled up together like a bunch of high schoolers spilling rumors to each other.
Hearing them faintly ask who the pretty girl was…
It strangely gave you a boost of confidence.
As you grabbed your things and began to exit, you gave a quick wave to your roommate. He waved back for a brief moment, dropping his facade for what seemed like a mili-second before halting and turning to walk away.
“You can’t ignore me forever!” You yelled after him. “We all know you’re the mascot Felix!”
He held onto the mascot head for dear life as he began picking up his pace. Suddenly, he was sprinting.
“NO YOU DON’T! ”
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The first class of the next week seemed to go well.
Changbin had picked up on things quite quickly, which impressed you.
He obviously wasn’t going to become a dance prodigy overnight, but he did good with the basic exercises and was fairly good at keeping you level while on pointe.
There was a lot less dropping with him then there was when Han was your partner. And in all honesty, that was all you could ever ask for. 
You found yourself laughing here and there whenever Changbin would mess up slightly, giving him encouraging words that he would get it right the second time. And thankfully, you’d be right each time. He seemed so determined.
He had even made the effort to get everything you told him he needed for class. When you saw him walk on the first day back from the weekend with a pair of black ballet flats in hand, you let out a sigh of relief. The man sat there on the floor in front of you, carefully putting them on and looking up at you waiting for some sort of praise. It almost made your heart skip a beat.
By the time the second class of the week had come around, there was a mutual acquaintanceship between you both. When he walked into class and met you at the barre, a mutual smile was shared.
“Mornin’ boss,” Changbin winked as he saluted you.
You let out a short groan in response which only made him laugh. His little maniacal giggle filled your ears and you stood in front of him with your head hung.
“You know you don’t have to be so formal with me,” you slowly rubbed your eyes with your middle and index fingers. “I’m your dance partner, not your boss. I’m here to help you, not boss you around.”
“Eh, it’s fine.” He shrugged. “I kinda like it when you boss me around.”
The words came out with a sense of normality behind them. There were no flirtatious undertones, no coquettish teasing—just a statement with an accidental provocative undercurrent. 
The affirmation was enough to make you silently turn away. And when your gaze shifted, you could see Minho (who had been standing by) smirking at you.
“Not a word,” you mumbled low enough for only him to hear.
Minho’s smile faltered for a second before staring straight ahead once more.
When the instructor walked in, the vibe seemed very different than usual.
She was dressed more casually, which was strange, and her intimidating sense of self seemed non-existent for once—but not quite completely gone. You had never seen this side of her before and it left the whole class in astonishment.  The woman stood in front of you all, hands behind her back, with her eyes scanning the room.
The room was dead silent until she eventually spoke.
“What is the meaning of pas de deux?”
Her question sent the class into a silenced frenzy. Everyone’s eyes darted at each other in the room waiting for someone to answer.
Eventually, Han’s new dance partner raised her hand and spoke.
“It means a dance for two people. Or step of two.”
“That’s its literal definition, Regina. I’m asking for the meaning.”
The instructor went on to explain how pas de deux is about two bodies coming together to create one soul; two partners coming together to produce one palpable emotion. That emotion differed from performance piece to another, and to construct those emotions through nothing but movement took a sense of dexterity to convey.
There were 3 rules of pas de deux:
You needed to trust your partner.
Unity between your partner and yourself was detrimental.
And most important of all, communication was key.
“Without those things, what we do here is simply just dancing,” your instructor shrugged. “What creates the magic of pas de deux is the harmony of two bodies. And in order to have that harmony, you must get to know your partner. Which is what we are going to do today.”
She proceeded to say that class was actually canceled today, and instead she wanted you to use your class time to get to know your partners more. It made sense, given the recent switch of partners that took place in class a few days ago. You and Changbin had already started practicing together a bit outside of class and the two of you barely knew each other. Perhaps this was a sign.
“I expect you to know your partner by the next class. You don’t have to know every dying detail of their life, but you should know enough to give a brief description of them and some of their interests in front of your fellow classmates. You will be graded on this.”
Once you all were dismissed and everyone seemed to be making their way out of the class, Changbin looked at you with a sort of desperation in his eyes.
“Heyyyy… sooo…”
“What do you want?”
“‘Kay so,” he began, “I actually had some homework that’s due later. I was gonna try to do it during practice but since class is canceled…”
“You want to know if I’m okay with you doing it now?”
He nodded vigorously with the most pouty face you had ever seen. “Please? We can meet up on the weekend again or something to make up for it. I’ll even be the one to reserve the room this time if you want. Just…please…?”
Laughing a bit, you realized how different Changbin made you feel. Normally if it were anyone else, you would have made an effort to force them to stay. You were just getting to know each other, but it was still an assignment after all. You took stuff like that when it came to dance very seriously. But something about him made you feel like you could trust him.
And so you did.
“Yeah that's fine,” you smiled. “I have some stuff to catch up on as well so that works out.”
Changbin stood there, eyebrows raised as if to ask ‘are you sure?’
You nodded, telling him to go.
He smiled, pressing a kiss to the palm of his hands then pretending to throw it at you as he bolted for his gym bag.
“I love you, oh my gosh. Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
The boys watched the whole ordeal as they began to gather around you, surprised you let him off so easily.
“We’ve lost her guys,” Hyunjin sighed. “She’s becoming soft.”
A swift kick to his shin shut him right up.
“There we go,” Han smirked. “She's back.”
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taglist: @marcillfll @jiisungllvr  @chrizzlaptop @babrieeee @soupbinlily @pissmori @chlodavids @marnz1990 @worcesheshestershiresauce @hafrenstay @s00buwu @ismelllikechlorine247 @teenyfinds
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noirapocalypto · 11 months ago
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for the love day game! 🤎 and ❤️ for casey and baz <3
Thank you so so much!! 💕 [ Love Day Emoji Ask ]
I've actually already answered these two in previous posts 😅 But I'll still copy/paste them here 💕 with some further expanding!
»»———- ᴠᴇʀᴅᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ———-««
❤️ Who is the more romantic one? Do they wish their partner was more romantic?
Both are pretty romantic, in their own weird/unorthodox way. They balance each other out very well because of their bond. Where Casey lacks, Baz makes up for and vice versa. Baz is spontaneous and has a sense of adventure, whereas Casey is a bit more mellow and tends to lean towards more quiet nights in. I don't think the either mind though. Casey gets to experience things he might have never gotten to experience without Baz, whereas Bastien gets to experience stability and gentle intimacy that he's not really used to. They're both happy with how the other expresses romance.
Bonus addition:
Their different approaches to romance actually did clash with the other when their relationship was still platonic and they were seeing other people. 🤭Back when they were young adults, they sometimes double dated with Bastien trying to pull the date one way and Casey trying to pull the other way. Sometimes Baz would suggest the group go to concert or some sort of rowdy show while Casey had just planned for a quiet movie date or even something a bit more calm like peaceful hike/walk through a park. More often than not, the two couples would just go their separate ways if they really wanted their date to work out. Other times, the two boys would end up going home alone thanks to their chaotic double date. 😂It wasn't until it was with each other, than they began to appreciate how the other goes about trying to impress and woo.
🤎 How do they comfort each other?
Bastien absolutely needs vocal reassurance and physical affection. Whenever he's having a moment, whether it's out of anger or sadness or panic, the moment Casey hugs him and reassurances Baz that he's okay and that he's 'got him', the other starts to calm down. And since Casey's a naturally affectionate person, this comes easy to him and he won't hesitate to become Baz's literal safety blanket. Bastien needs to feel loved and treasured.
When it's Casey's turn, he wants his feelings to be validated and acknowledged. Baz doesn't have to understand, he just needs to listen. He also responds well to physical affection, which Bastien is more than happy to provide. Casey's a bit more emotionally sensitive, so out of the two, he's likely the one to cry a bit easily when overwhelmed. He wants Baz's shoulder to cry on. Casey's comfort is feeling protected and taken care of.
Bonus addition:
When it comes to situations that aren't too dire or big of a deal, they both turn to more casual but thoughtful ways to try and cheer the other up when they have a bit of a storm cloud over their head. Whenever Casey's bummed out about something, Bastien cooks for him. Baz is the cook of the family, or at least, the one that's very, very good at it (he claims its thanks to his cajun side). Baking is also in his skill-set and he knows exactly what treats Casey likes. So whenever Casey's moping around, Baz surprises him with his favorite: a big plate of New Orleans style beignets.
When it's Bastien's turn to be a gloomy boy, Casey turns to humor. Bastien closes up, and walks around the place with a long face and a stiff demeanor. And that's when Casey tries to make him laugh because if there's anything Bastien likes, it's laughing his ass off. It never works the first time, with Baz determined to remain stoic. He'll even brush it off with a "I know what you're trying to do, it ain't gonna work". But pun after pun, joke after joke, his wall begins to break down and he begins trying to hide his smiles/keep from chuckling. Eventually though, Casey has him rolling and he's forgotten what was bothering him at the start.
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