#i have a lot of drawings of her that is on my exam paper

[mxhirus]

kureto if he took hrt is finally real

[phamapple]

THEY WERE ROOMMATES

When opposites attract, sparks fly. Follow the adorable misadventures of two college students as they go from sworn enemies to head-over-heels in love

Warnings; fluff, fem!reader, kissing, enemies-friends-lovers, mini jealousy moments, Daniela is mentioned like twice, not so slow burn, med student reader, art student manon, uni au, roommates au, reader is a neat freak lmk if I missed anything cuz I think there’s a lot that I missed :P 7.5k WC

You trudged into your dorm room, lugging a heavy suitcase behind you. You were not thrilled about sharing a room with a stranger, but it was a necessary evil. You'd heard horror stories about dorm roommates, but you were determined to make the best of it.

As you entered the room, you were greeted by a messy-haired girl sprawled across the bed, surrounded by art supplies. She looked up at you with a scowl, her eyes narrowing.

"Great, you must be my roommate," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm Manon."

You raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her attitude. "Nice to meet you, Manon," you said, trying to keep your tone neutral. "I'm Y/n."

Manon snorted, rolling her eyes. "Let me guess. A med major, huh? How original."

You felt a spark of irritation, but you bit back a retort. You didn't want to start off on the wrong foot.

As you began to unpack, Manon barely acknowledged your presence, too busy sketching in her notebook. You tried to make small talk, but she responded with monosyllabic grunts.

It was clear that Manon was not thrilled about sharing a room with you. But you were determined to make the best of it, even if it killed you.

As the days went by, you settled into a routine. Manon would spend most of her time drawing or painting, while you'd study for your med school classes. The tension between you was palpable, but you tried to ignore it.

But despite the rocky start, you began to notice little things about Manon. The way she smiled to herself when she was drawing, the way her eyes sparkled when she talked about art.

And Manon, despite her tough exterior, seemed to be warming up to you. She'd occasionally ask you for advice on her art projects or share her favorite snacks with you.

It was a small start, but you sensed that there might be more to Manon than met the eye.

—

You'd always been a tidy person, and you took pride in keeping your space organized. So, when Manon started to spread her art supplies all over the room, you felt a growing sense of frustration.

At first, it was just a few sketchbooks and pencils scattered across the desk. But as the days went by, the clutter grew. Paints, canvases, and half-finished projects took over the floor, the bed, and even the windowsill.

You tried to be patient, reminding yourself that Manon was an art major and needed space to create. But as the mess grew, so did your annoyance.

One day, as you were trying to study for an exam, you realized that you couldn't even see the surface of your desk anymore. Manon's art supplies had taken over, and you felt like you were drowning in a sea of paper, paint, and glitter.

"Manon, can we talk?" you asked, trying to keep your tone neutral.

Manon looked up from her latest project, a half-finished painting that was taking up most of the floor. "What's up?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly.

"It's just...the room is getting really cluttered," you said, trying to choose your words carefully. "I know you need space to create, but I need some space to study."

Manon raised an eyebrow. "You're not exactly the most exciting person to live with," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm just trying to add some personality to this drab room."

You felt a surge of irritation, but you tried to keep your cool. "I understand that, but can we find a compromise? Maybe we can set up a designated art space for you, and I can have some space to study?"

Manon snorted. "You want to restrict my creativity? No way."

The conversation quickly escalated into a full-blown argument, with both of you shouting over each other. The tension between you was palpable, and it seemed like the room was shrinking by the minute.

As the argument reached its peak, the RA knocked on the door, asking you to keep the noise down. You both glared at each other, still fuming, before Manon stormed out of the room, leaving you to seethe in silence.

The room was still cluttered, and the tension between you and Manon was thicker than ever. You wondered how you were going to survive the rest of the semester with this much animosity between you.

You gazed around the cluttered room, feeling a sense of irritation wash over you. Manon's art supplies were scattered everywhere, making it impossible for you to focus on your studies. You let out a deep sigh and decided to take matters into your own hands.

You started to pick up the scattered art supplies, carefully organizing them into neat piles. As you worked, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The room was starting to look more like a peaceful sanctuary, and less like a chaotic art studio.

As you finished up, you stepped back to admire your handiwork. The room was transformed, with Manon's art supplies neatly organized and out of the way. You let out a sigh of relief and settled back into your chair, ready to focus on your studies.

Just as you were getting into the zone, you heard the sound of the front door opening, followed by the creak of the door to your room. You looked up to see Manon standing in the doorway, a scowl on her face and a bag of groceries in her hand.

For a moment, you just looked at her, taking in the sight of her rumpled clothes and messy hair. She looked like she'd just rolled out of bed, and you couldn't help but wonder what she'd been up to.

Manon's scowl deepened as she caught your eye, and she quickly looked away, her cheeks flushing with a soft pink hue. You raised an eyebrow, intrigued by her sudden shyness.

Without a word, Manon walked over to your desk and dumped the bag of groceries onto the surface. You looked at the pile of snacks in surprise, wondering what she was doing.

As you gazed up at Manon, you saw a flicker of apology in her eyes, but her expression remained stubbornly scowled. "I brought snacks, as an apology for my attitude earlier" she muttered, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a surge of surprise at her words, but you quickly pushed it aside. Instead, you smiled at her, a warm, soft smile that you hoped would put her at ease.

"Thanks, Manon," you said, your voice gentle. "That's really sweet of you."

Manon's scowl faltered for a moment, and you saw a glimmer of surprise in her eyes. She seemed taken aback by your warm response, and for a moment, you wondered if you'd misread the situation entirely.

But then Manon's expression hardened again, and she turned away, muttering something under her breath. You watched her go, feeling a sense of confusion wash over you.

What was going on with Manon? You wondered. One minute she was scowling at you, and the next she was bringing you snacks and apologizing. You shook your head, feeling a sense of bewilderment.

As you turned back to your studies, you couldn't help but feel a sense of curiosity about Manon's sudden change of heart. What had brought it on? And what did it mean for your tumultuous relationship?

The questions swirled in your mind as you delved back into your studies, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Manon's apology had been unexpected, to say the least, and you wondered what other surprises she had in store for you.

—

Manon burst into the room, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Tonight's the night!" she exclaimed, tossing her bag onto the bed.

You looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow. "What's tonight?" you asked, a hint of wariness creeping into your voice.

Manon grinned. "Tonight, we're going out!" she said, her voice dripping with excitement. "We're going to paint the town red, or at least, we're going to try."

You hesitated, unsure if you were ready for a night out with Manon. She had a reputation for being unpredictable, and you weren't sure if you were ready for whatever adventure she had planned.

But Manon's enthusiasm was infectious, and before you knew it, you were swept up in her excitement. "Okay, fine," you said, tossing your book aside. "But if we get into trouble, I'm blaming you."

Manon whooped, pumping her fist in the air. "That's the spirit!" she exclaimed, grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the room.

As you hit the streets, you realized that Manon had no clear plan in mind. She seemed to be making it up as she went along, dragging you from one random location to the next.

You found yourself laughing and joking with Manon, feeling a sense of freedom and release that you hadn't experienced in weeks. It was like you'd left your worries and cares behind, and were just living in the moment.

But as the night wore on, things started to get a little out of hand. Manon convinced you to join her in a karaoke bar, where you proceeded to butcher a rendition of your favorite song. The crowd was merciless, and you found yourself laughing and cringing at the same time.

Next, Manon dragged you to a street food stall, where you sampled some of the most exotic and bizarre foods you'd ever encountered. Some of it was delicious, while other dishes were downright terrifying.

As the night drew to a close, Manon convinced you to join her in a crazy dance party, where you found yourself surrounded by pulsating lights and thumping music. You lost yourself in the beat, feeling a sense of abandon and freedom that you hadn't experienced in years.

It wasn't until the sun started to rise that you realized just how late it was. Manon grinned at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Best night ever, right?" she exclaimed, linking her arm through yours.

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a sense of exhilaration and exhaustion. "Definitely one for the books," you agreed, shaking your head in wonder.

As you stumbled back to the dorm, the sun rising over the horizon, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards Manon. She'd pushed you out of your comfort zone, and shown you a side of yourself that you never knew existed.

And as you drifted off to sleep, your head spinning with memories of the night's adventures, you couldn't help but wonder what other surprises Manon had in store for you.

You woke up to the sound of laughter and chatter coming from downstairs. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, wondering who could be visiting at such an early hour. You tossed off the covers and swung your legs over the side of the bed, deciding that the best time to investigate was when you went to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

As you made your way downstairs, the noise grew louder, and you could tell that Manon was entertaining a guest. You stepped into the living room, and your eyes landed on Manon, who was lounging on the couch with a blonde, curly-haired girl. They both turned to look at you, and you offered a simple "morning" before heading to the kitchen.

As you poured yourself a glass of water, you couldn't help but overhear the conversation between Manon and her friend. The blonde girl was chatting away, asking Manon about her summer plans, and Manon was responding with her usual sarcastic humor. But then, the girl's attention turned to you, and you heard her say, "Who's that cutie? I hope she's up for grabs."

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as you listened to Manon's response. "She's my roommate," Manon said, her voice firm, "and I'm 90% sure she isn't single." Manon's expression narrowed, and you could sense a hint of protectiveness in her tone.

You stood in the kitchen, frozen, wondering what Manon meant by that statement. Why was she so sure you weren't single? And why did she seem so invested in keeping her friend away from you? You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized that Manon might be more perceptive than you gave her credit for.

As you stood there, lost in thought, the conversation between Manon and her friend continued. The blonde girl was teasing Manon about being possessive, and Manon was laughing it off, but you could sense an undercurrent of tension. It was clear that Manon was not interested in sharing you with her friend, but you weren't sure why.

You took a deep breath and tried to shake off the feeling of unease. You told yourself that Manon was just being protective, that she didn't want her friend to get hurt. But as you stood there, listening to the conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than that.

After a few minutes, you composed yourself and headed back upstairs, trying to act nonchalant. But as you lay in bed, you couldn't help but wonder what Manon's intentions were. Was she really just being protective, or was there something more to it?

You decided to brush it off and pretend you didn't hear the conversation. You told yourself that it was none of your business, and that Manon was probably just joking around with her friend.

As you went about your day, you tried to avoid thinking about the conversation. You focused on your studies, worked on a project, and even managed to squeeze in a quick workout. But despite your best efforts, you couldn't shake off the feeling that something had shifted between you and Manon.

When Manon's friend left later that day, Manon came upstairs to grab a book from her shelf. She caught your eye and smiled, but you just nodded and looked away, trying to play it cool.

Manon seemed to sense that something was off, because she lingered in the doorway, watching you with a curious expression. "Hey, is everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

You forced a smile and nodded. "Yeah, everything's fine," you said, trying to sound casual. "Just studying for an exam."

Manon raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. But she didn't push the issue, just nodded and headed back downstairs.

As the day drew to a close, you couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if you'd confronted Manon about the conversation. Would she have confessed her feelings, or would she have brushed it off as a joke?

You shook your head, telling yourself that it was better to just let it go. But as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn't shake the feeling that you'd missed an opportunity to explore something deeper with Manon.

The next morning, you woke up to find Manon already up and about, making breakfast in the kitchen. She smiled at you as you entered the kitchen, and you felt a flutter in your chest.

"Morning," she said, her voice bright. "I made pancakes."

You smiled back, feeling a sense of normalcy wash over you. Maybe, just maybe, you'd imagined the whole thing.

But as you sat down to eat, you caught Manon watching you, a curious expression on her face. And you wondered, once again, what she was really thinking.

You decided to try to make small talk and see if you could get a read on Manon's feelings. As you sat down to eat, you asked her about her plans for the day.

Manon launched into a detailed explanation of her art project, telling you about the inspiration behind it and the techniques she was using. You listened intently, asking questions and making supportive noises.

As you chatted, you couldn't help but notice the way Manon's eyes sparkled when she talked about her art. She was so passionate about it, and it was infectious. You found yourself getting caught up in her enthusiasm, feeling a sense of excitement and creativity.

But despite the easy conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something underlying between you. You kept catching Manon looking at you, her expression soft and curious. And when you met her eye, she would quickly look away, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.

You wondered if you were imagining things, if you were just reading too much into the situation. But as you continued to chat, you started to feel a sense of tension building between you. It was like there was a question hanging in the air, a question that neither of you was willing to ask.

As you finished up your breakfast, Manon suggested that you work on your respective projects together. She set up her easel in the living room, and you settled in at the kitchen table with your books and notes.

As you worked, the silence between you was comfortable, but you could sense the undercurrent of tension. You kept looking up to find Manon watching you, her eyes narrowed in concentration. And when you caught her eye, she would smile and look away, leaving you feeling frustrated and curious.

As the morning wore on, the tension between you started to feel almost palpable. You could sense that Manon was waiting for something, but you had no idea what. And as you worked, you found yourself wondering if you were brave enough to take the leap and find out.

Just as you were starting to feel like you couldn't take the tension anymore, Manon suddenly spoke up. "Hey, can I ask you something?" she said, her voice soft and tentative.

You looked up, your heart skipping a beat. "Of course," you said, trying to sound casual. "What's up?"

Manon hesitated, her eyes darting back and forth. And then, in a rush, she asked, "Do you have a girlfriend?"

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. You hadn't expected the question, and you didn't know how to respond. Part of you wanted to tell Manon the truth, to confess that you were single and interested. But another part of you was scared, scared of getting hurt and scared of ruining your friendship with Manon.

As you hesitated, Manon's face fell, and she looked away, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Never mind," she muttered. "It's none of my business."

You felt a pang of regret, knowing that you'd missed an opportunity to be honest with Manon. But as you looked at her, you saw the tension in her shoulders, the vulnerability in her eyes. And you knew that you had to find a way to respond, to let her know that you valued her and your friendship.

You smiled softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on Manon's arm. "Hey, don't worry about it," you said, trying to put her at ease. "I'm single, so you don't have to worry about stepping on anyone's toes."

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile as she let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. Her eyes sparkled with relief, and she looked at you with a newfound sense of connection.

"Thanks for telling me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I feel like I can breathe again."

You chuckled and squeezed her arm gently. "Anytime," you said, smiling back at her. "I'm glad I could put your mind at ease."

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of tension dissipate. It was as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, and you could finally relax around each other.

Manon's smile faltered for a moment, and she looked at you with a curious expression. "Can I ask you something else?" she said, her voice hesitant.

You nodded, intrigued. "Of course," you said, leaning in slightly. "What's up?"

Manon took a deep breath before asking, "Would you like to grab coffee with me sometime? Just the two of us?"

You felt a flutter in your chest as you considered her question. It was clear that Manon was interested in spending more time with you, and you had to admit that you felt the same way.

You smiled, feeling a sense of excitement and possibility. "I'd love to grab coffee with you," you said, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies in your stomach.

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile, and she let out a little squeal of excitement. "Really?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with delight.

You nodded, feeling a sense of joy and connection. "Really," you said, smiling back at her.

Manon bounced up from the couch, her energy infectious. "I'll go get my phone and we can make plans," she said, already heading for the stairs.

As you watched her go, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. You had no idea what the future held, but you knew that you were looking forward to spending more time with Manon.

Manon returned with her phone and started scrolling through her calendar. "How about tomorrow afternoon?" she asked, looking up at you with a hopeful expression.

You nodded, feeling a sense of agreement. "Tomorrow afternoon sounds perfect," you said, smiling back at her.

As you made plans, you couldn't help but notice the way Manon's eyes sparkled when she smiled, or the way her hair curled slightly at the edges. You felt a sense of attraction that you couldn't ignore, and you wondered if maybe, just maybe, this coffee date could be the start of something special.

As you finalized the plans, Manon looked up at you with a mischievous grin. "I'm really looking forward to tomorrow," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a flutter in your chest as you met her gaze. "Me too," you said, smiling back at her.

As the day went on, you tried to play it cool and pretend like the coffee date was no big deal. You went about your routine, doing chores and studying, but you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off.

Every so often, you'd catch yourself thinking about Manon and the way she smiled when she asked you out. You'd feel a flutter in your chest, and you'd quickly push the feeling aside, telling yourself that you were just being silly.

But as the hours ticked by, you started to wonder if you were reading too much into the situation. Maybe Manon just wanted to be friends, and you were overanalyzing everything. Maybe you were just caught up in the excitement of having someone to hang out with.

You tried to rationalize your feelings, telling yourself that it was okay to just enjoy the moment and not overthink things. But as you lay in bed that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Manon's invitation.

As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself wondering what the next day would bring. Would Manon be nervous and awkward, or would she be her usual confident self? And what would you do if she was just being friendly, and didn't actually have romantic feelings for you?

The questions swirled in your mind, keeping you awake for what felt like hours. Finally, you drifted off to sleep, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster you'd been on.

The next morning, you woke up feeling nervous and anxious. You got dressed and ready, trying to calm your nerves as you waited for Manon to come downstairs.

When she finally emerged, looking bright and cheerful in a yellow sundress, you felt your heart skip a beat. She smiled at you, and you smiled back, trying to play it cool.

"Hey," she said, breezing into the kitchen. "Ready for coffee?"

You nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all.

As you walked to the coffee shop, Manon chatted easily about everything from art to music to her favorite books. You listened, entranced, feeling like you were getting to know her on a deeper level.

But despite the easy conversation, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to this coffee date. Something that Manon wasn't telling you.

As you sat down at a small table outside, Manon leaned in, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm really glad you could make it today," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You felt a flutter in your chest, and you leaned in, your heart pounding in your ears. "I'm glad I could make it too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of connection that you couldn't ignore. It was like the whole world had melted away, leaving just the two of you, suspended in a moment of pure possibility.

Just as it seemed like the moment was going to escalate into something more, Manon's phone suddenly buzzed with an incoming text. She groaned in frustration and pulled back, apologizing as she reached for her phone.

You felt a pang of disappointment, but you tried to play it cool, smiling and telling Manon to go ahead and answer the text. As she scrolled through her phone, her expression changed from relaxed to concerned.

"What's wrong?" you asked, feeling a sense of curiosity.

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to respond. "It's my friend Daniela," she said finally. "She's in town unexpectedly and wants to meet up."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a sense of surprise. "Daniela? Isn't that the friend who was visiting the other day?" you asked.

Manon nodded, looking guilty. "Yeah, that's the one. I didn't expect her to come back to town so soon, but I guess she had a change of plans."

You felt a pang of disappointment, realizing that the coffee date was going to be cut short. But you tried to be understanding, smiling and telling Manon that it was okay.

As Manon texted Daniela back, you couldn't help but wonder what this unexpected visit meant. Was Daniela just passing through, or was there something more going on?

As you finished up your coffee, Manon looked up at you with a sheepish expression. "I'm so sorry about this," she said. "I feel like I'm abandoning you."

You smiled and reassured Manon that it was okay, that you understood. But as you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a sense of uncertainty. What did Daniela's visit mean for you and Manon? And would you ever get to finish what you started?

You smiled and told Manon that you understood, but you weren't interested in meeting up with Daniela. "It's okay, really," you said. "I've got some stuff I need to work on anyway."

Manon looked relieved, but also a little disappointed. "Okay, no worries," she said. "I'll catch up with you later, then."

You nodded and watched as Manon hurried off to meet up with Daniela. As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn't help but feel a little left out. You had been looking forward to spending more time with Manon, and now it seemed like that wasn't going to happen.

When you got back to your dorm, you decided to focus on your work and try to put the disappointment out of your mind. You spent the rest of the day studying and working on projects, and by the time evening rolled around, you were feeling more productive and less bothered by the earlier events.

As you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You opened it to find Manon standing in the hallway, looking a little sheepish.

"Hey," she said. "I'm sorry again for ditching you earlier. I feel like I owe you an explanation."

You raised an eyebrow, curious about what Manon had to say. "What's going on?" you asked, stepping aside to let her in.

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to start. "It's just...Daniela is going through a tough time right now," she said. "She's been having some personal issues, and I promised her I'd be there for her."

You nodded, feeling a surge of understanding. "That makes sense," you said. "I'm glad you're being a good friend to her."

Manon smiled, looking relieved. "Thanks for understanding," she said. "I promise I'll make it up to you soon."

As Manon turned to leave, you felt a pang of curiosity. What did Manon mean by "making it up" to you? And what exactly was going on between her and Daniela?

You decided to let the conversation drop, not wanting to pry into Manon's personal business. You smiled and nodded, telling her that you understood, and that you were just glad she was being a good friend to Daniela.

Manon smiled back, looking relieved, and you could tell that she was grateful for your understanding. You chatted for a few more minutes, catching up on each other's days, and then Manon said goodnight and headed back to her room.

As you got ready for bed, you couldn't help but think about the conversation you'd just had with Manon. You were glad that you'd been understanding and supportive, but a part of you couldn't help but wonder what was really going on with Daniela. Was she really just going through a tough time, or was there something more to it?

You pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that it was none of your business. You were just glad that Manon was being a good friend, and that was all that mattered.

As you drifted off to sleep, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You were happy to have Manon as a friend, and you were grateful for the understanding and support that you'd shown each other.

The next day, you went about your routine as usual, attending classes and working on projects. You didn't see Manon until lunchtime, when you ran into her in the cafeteria.

She smiled and waved, and you joined her at her table. As you ate, you chatted about your morning, discussing everything from classes to TV shows.

Manon seemed a little more subdued than usual, but you couldn't tell if it was just because she was tired or if something was really bothering her. You asked her if everything was okay, and she nodded, smiling reassuringly.

But as you finished up your lunch and prepared to part ways, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. Manon seemed a little more distant than usual, and you wondered if everything was really okay.

As you walked back to your dorm, you couldn't help but think about Manon and what might be bothering her. You told yourself that you were just being paranoid, that Manon was probably fine and you were just reading too much into things.

But as you went about your day, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. You found yourself wondering what was really going on with Manon, and whether you should try to talk to her about it.

You decided to give Manon some space, figuring that she'll come to you if she needs to talk about something. You went about your day as usual, attending classes and working on projects.

As the day went on, you couldn't help but think about Manon and what might be bothering her. You wondered if she was okay, and if there was anything you could do to help.

But you also didn't want to pry or push her to talk about something she wasn't ready to discuss. You figured that if she needed someone to talk to, she would come to you.

As the evening drew to a close, you headed back to your dorm, feeling a little more relaxed. You spent some time reading and watching TV, and then got ready for bed.

Just as you were drifting off to sleep, you heard a knock at the door. You got up to answer it, expecting it to be one of your friends or maybe a neighbor.

But when you opened the door, you were surprised to see Manon standing there, looking a little sheepish. "Hey," she said, "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

You shook your head, feeling a little curious. "No, it's fine," you said. "What's up?"

Manon hesitated, looking unsure of how to start. "I just wanted to talk to you about something," she said finally. "Can I come in?"

You nodded, stepping aside to let Manon in. As she entered your room, you couldn't help but wonder what she wanted to talk about.

Was it something serious, or just something that was bothering her? And why had she come to you, instead of someone else?

As Manon sat down on your bed, looking a little nervous, you realized that you were about to find out.

You asked Manon what was on her mind, encouraging her to open up. "Hey, what's going on?" you said, trying to sound supportive. "You can tell me anything."

Manon took a deep breath, looking a little nervous. "It's just...I don't know how to say this," she said, hesitating. "But I've been feeling really overwhelmed lately. With school, and my art, and just life in general...I feel like I'm drowning."

You listened attentively, trying to offer a supportive ear. "I'm so sorry, Manon," you said. "That sounds really tough. But you know you can always talk to me, right? I'm here for you."

Manon smiled, looking a little relieved. "Thanks," she said. "Just talking to you makes me feel a little better. But there's something else...something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

You raised an eyebrow, feeling a little curious. "What is it?" you asked, trying to sound encouraging.

Manon took another deep breath, looking a little nervous. "I've been developing feelings for you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know it may seem sudden, but I couldn't help the way I feel. And I wanted to be honest with you, even if it means risking our friendship."

You felt like you'd been punched in the gut. You hadn't seen this coming, and you didn't know how to react.

You took a deep breath and told Manon that you felt the same way. "I've been feeling a connection with you too," you said, trying to sound calm. "I value our friendship, but I have to admit, I've been wondering if there's something more between us."

Manon's face lit up with a radiant smile. "Really?" she asked, her voice full of excitement.

You nodded, feeling a sense of joy and possibility. "Really," you said, smiling back at her.

Manon leaned in, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I'm so glad," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've been wanting to tell you for so long."

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you felt a sense of connection and understanding that you'd never felt before. It was like you'd been waiting for this moment for a long time, and now that it was finally here, you were ready to seize it.

Manon leaned in closer, her face inches from yours. You could feel the tension between you, the anticipation of what was to come.

And then, in a moment that felt like time standing still, Manon kissed you.

It was a soft, gentle kiss, but it sent shivers down your spine. You felt like you were melting into her, like you were becoming one person.

As you pulled back, gasping for air, you saw the smile on Manon's face. It was a smile of joy, of happiness, of love.

"I've been wanting to do that for so long," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled back, feeling like you were on cloud nine. "I'm glad you did," you said, your voice filled with emotion.

As you sat there, looking into each other's eyes, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

You and Manon decided to go on a proper date, to celebrate your newfound feelings. You both agreed that it would be nice to get out of the dorm and explore the town.

Manon suggested a quaint little Italian restaurant that she had been wanting to try, and you agreed. You made a reservation for that evening, and spent the rest of the day counting down the hours until your date.

You felt a little nervous, but Manon's smile put you at ease. You were greeted by the hostess and led to your table, where you spent the next few hours enjoying delicious food and wine, and getting to know each other better.

The conversation flowed easily, and you found yourself laughing and joking with Manon like you had known her for years. You talked about everything from your favorite books and movies, to your childhood memories and dreams for the future.

As the evening drew to a close, you walked Manon back to her dorm, feeling like you were on cloud nine. You had never felt such a strong connection with someone before, and you couldn't wait to see where things would go from here.

As you stood outside Manon's dorm, you turned to her and smiled. "I had an amazing time tonight," you said, your voice filled with sincerity.

Manon smiled back, her eyes sparkling with happiness. "I had an amazing time too," she said. "Would you like to do it again sometime soon?"

You nodded eagerly, feeling like you were floating on air. "Definitely," you said. "How about tomorrow night?"

Manon laughed, a playful glint in her eye. "You're eager, aren't you?" she teased.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "Maybe just a little," you admitted.

Manon smiled, her expression softening. "I like that," she said. "Tomorrow night sounds perfect."

As you leaned in to kiss her goodnight, you knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

—

You finished getting dressed in your usual baggy outfit, feeling comfortable and relaxed. You headed downstairs, where Manon was waiting for you, looking stylish and put-together as always.

"Ready?" she asked, smiling at you.

You nodded, and Manon held out her hands, expecting you to take them. You felt a little flutter in your chest as you intertwined your fingers with hers, feeling a sense of excitement and nervousness.

Manon led the way, walking confidently through the dorm and out into the cool evening air. You followed her, feeling a sense of trust and reliance on her. She seemed to know exactly where she was going, and you were happy to follow her lead.

As you walked to the cinema, Manon chatted easily about her day, telling you about her classes and her friends. You listened attentively, feeling grateful for her presence in your life.

When you arrived at the cinema, Manon bought your tickets and led you to the concession stand. "What do you want to eat?" she asked, smiling at you.

You shrugged, feeling a little indecisive. "Whatever you want," you said.

Manon laughed and ordered a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas. You carried the snacks while Manon led the way to the theater.

As you found your seats and settled in for the movie, Manon reached for your hand again, intertwining your fingers with hers. You felt a sense of comfort and security, knowing that she was there with you.

As the movie started, you and Manon settled in, watching the opening scenes with interest. But as the film progressed, you found yourself becoming more and more aware of Manon's presence beside you.

You felt her hand in yours, her fingers intertwined with yours in a gentle but firm grasp. You felt her arm against yours, her shoulder brushing against yours as you both laughed at a funny moment in the movie.

As the tension in the film built, you found yourself leaning in closer to Manon, your heads almost touching as you both watched the screen with rapt attention. You could feel her warm breath on your skin, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

Manon seemed to sense your movement, and she turned to you, her eyes sparkling with amusement. You met her gaze, feeling a jolt of electricity as your eyes locked.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the movie forgotten. Then, without thinking, you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Manon's in a soft, gentle kiss.

Manon's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed you back, her lips warm and inviting. You felt a rush of excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you deepened the kiss.

The movie played on, forgotten, as you and Manon lost yourselves in the moment. You kissed for what felt like hours, the world around you melting away as you focused on the sensation of Manon's lips against yours.

Finally, you pulled back, gasping for air. Manon's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she smiled, her lips still warm from your kiss.

"I guess we got a little distracted," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "Just a little," you replied, your voice equally soft.

Manon leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I don't mind," she whispered. "I liked it."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Manon's warm breath tickled your ear. You turned to her, your eyes locking with hers in a sparkling gaze.

You and Manon decided to get a little more romantic, sharing another kiss or two in the darkness of the theater. You leaned in closer, your lips brushing against Manon's in a soft, gentle kiss.

Manon's eyes fluttered closed, and she kissed you back, her lips warm and inviting. You felt a rush of excitement, your heart pounding in your chest as you deepened the kiss.

The movie played on, forgotten, as you and Manon lost yourselves in the moment. You kissed for what felt like hours, the world around you melting away as you focused on the sensation of Manon's lips against yours.

As you kissed, you felt a sense of connection with Manon that you'd never felt before. It was like you were two pieces of a puzzle that fit together perfectly, and you knew that you were meant to be together.

Finally, you pulled back, gasping for air. Manon's eyes sparkled with amusement, and she smiled, her lips still warm from your kiss.

"I think we've made our point," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.

You grinned, feeling a little sheepish. "I guess we have," you replied, your voice equally soft.

Manon leaned in closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "I'm so glad we did," she whispered. "I feel like I've been waiting for this moment for so long."

You felt a shiver run down your spine as Manon's warm breath tickled your ear. You turned to her, your eyes locking with hers in a sparkling gaze.

"I'm glad too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion.

As the movie came to an end, you and Manon reluctantly pulled apart, smiling at each other like fools. You knew that this was just the beginning of something special, something that would change your life forever.

You walked out of the theater hand in hand, feeling like you were on top of the world. You knew that you had found your soulmate in Manon, and you couldn't wait to see what the future held for you both.

As you strolled through the quiet streets, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. You knew that you had found your perfect match, and you were grateful for every moment you spent with Manon.

And as you looked into her eyes, you knew that you would love her forever.

[lionhanie]

han taesan ; back 2 u (part four)

you can’t help but find yourself coming back to taesan everytime

this is part four of my series, back 2 u! read the previous part here!

fuckboy!taesan x fem!reader, college au

...featuring! BFFS jaehyun + woonhak, fuckboy leehan (AND he's taesan's roommate), and lovely roomies sungho + riwoo <3

word count: 11.1k (EXTRA special ty to my beloved @serejae for beta reading for me T_T)

warnings:  ANGST,,,, cursing, one kms joke, gongfourz fboy activities, woonhak is a little lost, alcohol/weed usage (reader smokes and drinks one (1) single beer), shotgunning (smoke), insecurity + overthinking, toxic relationship behaviors, mentions of other idols as side characters :P (newjeans minji, gidle minnie, enha heeseung, zb1 matthew)

a/n: apologies for disappearing off the face of the earth .... but wanted to mention that i joined @onedoornet !!! ^_^ plsplspls go support and check out everyone else in this lovely network hueheuhe <3

reblogs ↺ + feedback always appreciated!

A mess consisting of scrap paper, pens, and various scribbled notes from the lecture was currently occupying the entire span of your desk. You were supposed to be studying for an exam you had in a couple days, but you were currently sprawled out in the comfort of your bed as you scrolled mindlessly through Twitter. 

[Instagram] the_myungjaeee sent a post by kminji04! the_myungjaeee: LOL look at woonhak dancing in the 3rd slide

Opening Instagram, you’re faced with what looks like a photo dump from a girl who goes to your university. It was recently posted, the caption reading “late night finds”. Swiping to see the video Jaehyun was referring to, you cover your mouth to stifle your laughter at seeing one of your best friends dancing horribly in a parking lot, laughter coming from the background of the clip. 

Out of habit, you find yourself scrolling through the rest of the post’s contents, finding various pictures of what you assume to be the girl’s friend group, neatly-arranged drinks in a cafe, pretty skies from places you recognize around campus. You don’t think much of the post until a particular picture catches your eye. 

To anyone else, it just looked like your typical soft-launch type post. There was no account tagged, but you’ve seen enough of the relationship-esque genre of pictures to recognize them when you see one. A set of masculine hands doodling hearts on the condensation of the driver’s seat window. The quality of the photo isn’t great, clearly being taken late at night, but the head that’s half cropped out of the photo is one you recognize all too well. The bleached blonde streaks towards the nape of the man’s neck confirms the suspicion brewing in your gut: It’s Taesan. You don’t really want to think too hard about why the inside of the car is fogging up the windows like that, or why it’s a heart he’s drawing, out of all things, because you know it’ll only hurt your feelings even more. 

Curiosity gets the best of you as you tap on the user who posted the image. kminji04. Kim Minji. You’re glad the profile was public in the first place, but maybe it wasn’t something you should be thankful for. You shouldn’t be diving head-first into this rabbit hole. But what you don’t know can’t hurt you, surely. 

You ignore your brain’s attempt at protecting you as you examine the profile further. Having your fair share of experience when it came to social media digging, it was easy to get an idea about who Kim Minji was. Her feed reflects the same feeling you got from the first post you saw— She seemed to take a liking to posting a variety of pictures that revealed different slices of her life. Looked to be an English major, and in the same year as you. She was undeniably stunning, model-like, even. Asides from Woonhak, you didn’t share many mutuals. You shouldn’t be looking too deep into this. You wouldn’t get anything good out of doing so.

You kept going. In her highlights, you didn’t notice anything too out of the ordinary. That is, until you got to one in particular, labeled only with a heart. Two weeks ago, a scenic view by the water. After that, two iced coffees are neatly placed side by side in a cute cafe, followed by other food-related pictures of the same nature. Clicking through the slides, you were about to write it off as just another compilation of aesthetic stills-- Except you see a familiar jacket appear in the background of one of the stories. The same jacket that currently resides in your closet. The same jacket Han Taesan wrapped around you before he kissed you for the first time. 

Putting together the pieces, you quickly realize the entire highlight showcased various dates they went on. You never got the chance to exchange anything besides a brief kiss and your number, but it was easy to find Taesan in both her followers and following. It was more than enough evidence for you to assume that it was Kim Minji he was talking to in the library. The one he called baby. He probably wore that jacket with her in the days leading up to the party. You think it’s dumb the way your heart hurts at the understanding; you’re unsure of why you yearn so badly for someone you’d only recently met, but maybe that’s why he built up such a reputation in the first place. 

[Instagram] the_myungjaeee: ok leave me on seen do u want me to kms

The notification on the top of your screen pulls you out of your thoughts. Rather than replying, you decide to open your messages, looking for one group chat in particular. 

to: “woonhak’s babysitters”! can i see u guys tmr :( 

The responses are instantaneous, and you’re happy to see that your friends are still awake– probably procrastinating their assignments as well. 

woonhak’s babysitters Jaehyun: OKAY NOW U TEXT THE GC INSTEAD OF REPLYING ON INSTAGRAM You: girl are u free or not Woonhak: yes let’s hang out Woonhak: but wats with the :( why are we :( y/n Jaehyun: bro ik u have my schedule memorized…. you KNOW i’m free  Jaehyun: don't forget we literally operate under the assumption that we are going to see each other everyday 🙄 Jaehyun: but ^^ is something wrong did something happen You: not really but i need to debrief again… 😀 Woonhak: mystery man? You: …….maybe 👎👎👎 meet at our usual cafe @ 3? Jaehyun: not u using us as love counselors again…. what’s in it for us 🤔 You: i’ll pay Jaehyun: 😍😍😍 SEE YOU GUYS TOMORROW 💯LOVE YOU! 😇

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

“It’s crazy how things taste better when you aren’t the one who paid for them!” Jaehyun stirs the iced coffee in his hand with the straw, grinning ear to ear.

“Yeah, whatever, I knew you would still show up even if I didn’t bribe you with free food.” You roll your eyes at the boy next to you, who is clearly enjoying the drink you just bought for him. “How can you tell if a guy is flirting with you?”

“You’re just going to drop a bomb on us like that?” Jaehyun lightheartedly criticizes. The teasing never seemed to stop when it came to talking about your love life, but you were glad to know they would always lend you an ear if you needed one. “Can you give us another hypothetical scenario for context?” 

“You remember how I texted that guy about his overdue book? Well, he showed up while I was working on Tuesday,”  They nod, listening intently as they periodically take small sips from their straws. “He’s always calling me pet names, like things my boyfriend should be saying... He even noticed I did my makeup differently that day too!” 

“I’m almost certain he likes you if he’s complimenting you like that all the time,” Woonhak affirms. “He’s definitely trying to woo you over with that sort of act.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d be so bold with calling a girl those names if I wasn’t at least somewhat into her. Did you ask him to hang out after your shift was over?”

“I mean, I tried to. He stepped away to answer his phone, and it sounded like he was talking to a girl. At least, I think he was.” You’re fairly certain that you were right, but maybe it was safer not to jump to conclusions. 

“What makes you think that?”

“He kept talking about how he was almost done and that he’d be coming over soon… And he called them baby.” Who else would he call ‘baby’ if not another girl? Talking about it out loud brings back all the conspiracies going through your head when you’d stalked Minji’s profile before bed. 

“Wow, what kind of man would call someone that after blatantly flirting with you? I was almost rooting for him until you said that, you know.” Woonhak looks disappointed as he picks up a strawberry off the plate on the table and pops it into his mouth. 

The conversation goes dull for a moment, sounds from neighboring tables filling the silence at the table. “Woonhak, how do you know Kim Minji?” You pry, deciding not to dance around the question that could give you the answers you were desperately searching for.

“Minji? She helped me write some papers for English 301,” He’s taken aback by the direct question, but he answers quickly regardless. “She’s really nice though! I was hanging out with her and a bunch of other people the other week.”

“Woonhakie, what was that video she posted of you?” Jaehyun’s laugh rings throughout your corner of the cafe as he recalls the post he sent you last night. “You looked so funny dancing like that!” 

“Ah, is that what we’re talking about? Yeah, I lost a bet and I had to dance to a random song for three whole minutes. l didn’t think she’d post that though… Why do you ask?”

“...Is she dating anyone?” You shyly ask.

“What, are you interested? I have her number if you want it-“

“She’s pretty, but that’s not really what I’m trying to get at here,” You take a moment to think about how you’re going to go about this conversation. Might as well just rip off the bandaid. “Is she dating Han Dongmin?”

“Dongmin? I don’t know anyone named Dongmin.”

“Mm, Taesan?” You correct yourself by addressing him by his nickname. 

“Oh, that guy with the weird hair? I mean, he was with us a couple times,” Woonhak scratches the back of his head, trying to recall the events of the night. “But I don’t think they’re together. Not officially, at least.”

“I thought the contact I saw on your phone said Han Dongmin, though. Is he Han Taesan?” Jaehyun recollects the last time you went to them for advice. 

Cat’s out of the bag now. “Would you get mad at me if I said yes?” The laugh you let out is dry as you watch the condensation drip down the side of your cup. 

“What’s so bad about Taesan hyung?” Woonhak innocently asks, clearly lost.

“Woonhak, you know who he is right?” Jaehyun seems shocked as he seeks for confirmation.

“Duh, didn’t I just say he was out with my friends and I? I mean, who else has hair like that? I’m sure we’re talking about the same guy.”

“I don’t think you should keep talking to him, Y/N.” Jaehyun’s voice is stern from his place next to you. 

“Oh, you like Taesan Y/N?” Woonhak seems to finally grasp the situation. “You should’ve told me sooner! I’ve only met him a couple of times, but I could always invite you if I know he’s coming out with us! But then again… I only really see him when Minji is there.” Oh. He only shows up when Minji is there. Everything seems to make a bit more sense now. 

“Hey, am I even in this conversation?” Jaehyun whines, smacking the table with the palms of his hands. “I don’t like him for you, Y/N.” 

“Oooh… Are you jealous?” Woonhak wiggles his eyebrows at your best friend, who is clearly upset with the newly revealed identity of the main character in your dilemma. 

“Dude, I don’t even know why you’d say that. You know Y/N and I aren’t like that.” He’s glaring at the younger boy across from him, but his eyes soften when they turn back to you. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“If he’s dating Minji, then I guess there’s no reason for me to be talking to him anymore.” Your throat feels dry. You take a sip from your drink, which was untouched for the past ten minutes. 

“You’ve never heard anything about Taesan then, Woonhak?” The boy in question shakes his head no, waiting for an explanation. “Han Taesan; music major famous for his rager parties and picking up girls anywhere he can– If anything, I’m more surprised you haven’t heard any word of him just by being on campus.” 

“Okay, so he throws dope parties and is popular with girls. So what? Don’t act like you didn’t have girls from different classes lining up for you back in high school.”

“That’s not the same as what I’m trying to get at. Han Taesan goes through girls like they’re nothing. And this is our sweet Y/N we’re talking about here— Do you want her with a guy like him?” At this point, Jaehyun’s visibly frustrated with his naivety. 

You place your hand on his shoulder in an attempt to calm him down. “Oh, he’s like that? He just seems so… Normal?” Woonhak comments, seemingly in disbelief, that Jaehyun’s version of Han Taesan is the same as his.

“Yeah, I thought that too.” Your voice trails off. You wanted to smack your past self for thinking everything everyone said about Taesan wasn’t true. That they were just baseless rumors. 

“Sorry, Y/N. If Taesan is really that kind of person, I don’t want him with you either. Plus, Minji was practically all over him that one time so maybe they actually are a thing-“

“Not the best thing to say right now, bro.” Woonhak shrinks in his seat, shutting himself up by taking a bite of the pastry he had in front of him. “So do you have feelings for him, Y/N? Didn’t you meet like, two weeks ago?” You nod, ashamed to admit the way you feel about someone who only came into your life recently. Sure, you’ve had similar crush upbringings in the past, but this felt different than your previous temporary infatuations. “I don’t think it’ll be easy, but I think you should take a couple steps back when it comes to a guy like him.” 

“Normally I wouldn’t be one to butt in so heavily when it comes to the guys you like, but I seriously have a bad feeling about him now.” Woonhak frowns, feeling like he lost his previous appetite.  

“Hell, if he’s getting all up close and personal with another girl and then telling you to kiss him the next time you’re at his place, it sounds like he only wants one thing from you. You’re just going to end as another one of his hook-ups.” You gnaw on the plastic straw in your cup as Jaehyun goes on. 

Just another one of his hook-ups. And with how well-known Taesan was around campus, people would find out who you were sooner or later. Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad. At the very least, you could probably see him more often if you were friends with benefits– What the hell are you saying?

“Don’t even think about it.” Almost as if reading your mind, Jaehyun raises his voice at you. You’re startled at his tone, flinching a bit in your chair. “Fuck, sorry. You don’t deserve to be discarded like one of his one night stands, is all I’m saying.” 

“I second that,” Woonhak’s equally as upset as Jaehyun now. “Man, screw this Han Taesan… Han Dongmin… Whoever he is. Literally any other guy would be better for you.” 

“I figured you’d react like this if I told you it was him from the beginning.” You tuck your hair behind your ear, chuckling at your friends’ concern. “Was it so wrong for wanting to see if he isn’t the bad guy that everyone makes him out to be?” 

“...I guess not, but if you knew he was a shit person, why even bother trying in the first place?” Jaehyun looks at you with genuine confusion written all over his face. 

“Dunno. I just thought I’d be interesting enough for him to want something more with me.” Maybe if you were prettier, or more popular. Maybe just then, that’d be enough for Han Taesan to change his ways. 

“I wish you saw yourself the same way we see you, Y/N.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

It’s been a few days since you broke down the situation properly with Jaehyun and Woonhak in the cafe. Even if whatever you had between you and Taesan was close to nothing, it’s hard to deny that it hurt a bit to think that your story ended so fast. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want things to end up like this. Rather than dwelling too hard on what could’ve been, you focused all your energy on cramming for the test you needed to study for. 

Despite that, you still found yourself wishing the two of you could run into each other, just once more. When you leave the elective class you share with Sungho, you scan around the building in hopes of getting a glimpse of Taesan’s hair in the hallways. When the library doors slide open, you can’t stop yourself from looking up from your monitor just in case he’s come to return his book. If Jaehyun knew you still had him on your mind after his scolding, he’d be furious. 

Unlocking the door to your shared apartment, you melt into the couch after another session of tutoring Woonhak after he’d desperately begged you to save him from failing his math class. The agreement was that he would pay for your lunch for an entire week in exchange for your help– You would’ve helped him regardless, but you wanted to see how desperate he would get for a tutor.

“Long day?” Minnie, your roommate, and friend from high school, greets you from her place in the kitchen. 

“Yeah, Woonhak is impossible to teach sometimes. He gets distracted every five minutes, I swear.” You complain as you run your hands through your hair.

“Aw, that sounds like him. How’s he doing?” The girl rests her head in her hand as she leans onto the kitchen island, looking over at you. 

“Good, aside from the fact that he currently has a 64 in math.” You chuckle, closing your eyes as you lean back into the plush pillows.

Minnie snorts, moving to open the fridge and bending down to find a drink. “Want something?” 

You pry one of your eyes open to see the girl waiting for your response by the refrigerator door. “Why not? I’m gonna need something to take away all the stress of trying to get Woonhak to understand how derivatives work,” Minnie smiles at you as she grabs two cans, bringing them to the living room and handing you one.

“Beer? Gross.” The drink feels cool in your hand as you look at the label. “It’s all we have, unless you want to go buy something different yourself,” She cracks the can open and takes a gulp, groaning at the carbonation.

You pout at her, but you open your drink and take a sip yourself regardless. “You wouldn’t want to come with me?” 

“Nope, I’m all showered and comfy already. You’d catch me dead before you see me leaving the apartment at this time.” You laugh as you stretch your arms into the air before they fall at your side comfortably. “You aren’t going to shower yet?” 

“Hey, it’s a Friday night. A girl can’t relax in her living room anymore?” 

“Yeah, a Friday night you spent three hours hunched up in those old study rooms again.” She props her legs up on the coffee table from her seat next to you, scrolling on her phone. “When was the last time you went out? You gotta take me with you next time.”

Taesan’s party. You weren’t one to go out too often, and you weren’t sure about the next time you would given the way your last outing ended. “Three weeks ago? I don’t remember.” You bluff; practically every detail from that night and the days that followed it were etched into your memory. 

Placing your can down on the table, you get up. “I’m gonna wash up, I’ll be back.” Minnie hums at you as she looks up briefly from what she was watching. You picked up the bag that you’d haphazardly thrown on the floor when you first got back and made your way to your room. Opening your drawers, you sort through your sleepwear, looking for one of your sweatshirts. On the bed, you hear your phone vibrating against the comforter. 

“Ugh, no way Woonhak has another question. He said he didn’t need my help anymore.” Taking off your clothes from the day and throwing on your hoodie and shorts, you move closer to look at who’s calling you.

Incoming call from “Han Dongmin”!

Just when you thought you weren’t going to hear from him again. What could he be possibly calling you for? If anything, you would’ve thought he’d be throwing another party. Or maybe he dialed the wrong person? You let it ring twice more before picking it up. 

“Hello?” You curse silently at the way your voice shakes when you speak. 

There’s laughter coming from the other end, alongside muffled voices. Is this some sort of prank? You’re about to hang up when you don’t get an immediate response. “Y/N? Hi.” It’s been a while since you heard him. 

“Taesan? Why are you calling me?”

“Not the name I want to hear from you, angel.” You let out an annoyed laugh, sitting on the edge of your bed. He has the nerve to talk to you as if he didn’t ghost you for the past two weeks. “Haven’t heard your sweet voice in a while. I guess I miss talking to you.”

“Dongmin, what’s this about?” You feel your heartbeat speed up, much to your disappointment. Curse him for having you wrapped around his finger still even when you thought you were getting over him. 

“There’s my girl,” He chuckles into the mic. “You busy?” You’re taken aback at his words. His girl. 

“Fuck off, don’t call me again.” …Is what you want to say, but your cheeks heat up against your will. You feel your composure falling apart at the mere sound of his voice. “...No. I just got home.” 

“Come over then.” Now, it really feels like a setup. You knew there were other people with him; he could have you on speaker for all you know. He’s probably trying to show off how easy it is to call a girl over at midnight. “...Only if you want to. It’s only me and a couple of other people here.” 

“Like who?”

“Leehan, of course. And some of my friends, Matthew, Heeseung, Minji.” His voice hushes into a whisper as he continues his thought. “To be honest, there’s a few more people here, but I can’t remember their names right now.” He giggles at his confession. It’s uncharacteristically cute– you’ve never heard him laugh like that before. 

Kim Minji. Another name you’d temporarily erased from your mind. “Who’re you talking to?” It’s Leehan; he sounds like he’s a couple feet away from Taesan, but you can tell it’s him by his voice.

You’re silent as you wait to hear what he says in response. Surely he wouldn’t admit to talking to another girl in front of his girlfriend. But then again, maybe he didn’t care to be cautious when it came to things like this. “Y/N, duh. You wanna talk to her?”

“Ah, I don’t really think you need to-” You get out, not seeing the point in talking to his roommate at this point of time, but ultimately getting cut off by Leehan taking the phone. 

“Hey, Y/N. Long time no see, yeah?” His baritone tone shocks you, sounding much deeper now that he’s properly speaking into the phone. “Our sweet Taesan over here was hogging the joint while he was chatting you up, so I hope you understand why I had to pull you away for a sec there.” Ah. He’s high. 

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know,” You fiddle with the string of your hoodie as you apologize, even if there isn’t anything for you to be sorry for. “I’m going to hang up now, just tell Dongmin I’m going to sleep or something.”

“Woah, hold up. Your Dongmin called you for a reason. You’re free to come over, you know. You don’t need to smoke with us, it’s cool.” There are more voices in the background, but the phone struggles to pick up the noise. “Who am I to stop a pretty lady like yourself from coming to our house again?” You can hear him smile as he talks. 

If Jaehyun would be mad if he found out you were just thinking about Han Taesan, he’d be livid if he knew you were seriously considering taking up the offer. Rustling comes from the other end, and you assume it’s Taesan getting his phone back.

“Hey, don’t try and take what’s mine, Leehan.” There he was again, calling you his. At this point, the title seemed rather fitting with the way you’re still on call, even after your friends warned you about the man you were speaking to.

“I’d love to see you again, Y/N.” Your name rolling off his lips sounds foreign, especially when he’s been known to exclusively call you pet names. “Door’s unlocked if you show up. Don’t keep me waiting too long, yeah?” 

There’s a small beep as he ends the call, giving you no chance to keep the conversation going. You fall back onto your bed, groaning out loud. “Are you okay?” You hear your roommate ask you from down the hallway. 

“Yeah, I’m good!” Not really, though. You’re upset at how quickly you decided to get ready to leave the apartment nstead of getting ready for bed like you initially intended to. Standing up, you move over to the mirror to address your current appearance. You internally thank Taesan for not calling you to come over after you’ve taken off your makeup completely. You touch it up slightly, glad that it hadn’t worn off much during the day. Grabbing your perfume on the dresser, you spritz yourself a couple times with the sweet scent. The clothes you would’ve worn to sleep were good enough– After all, it's likely nobody will be in the right state of mind to care too much about what you had on anyways.

You make your way back to the living room, walking past the couch where your roommate was still sitting. “You going somewhere? Aren’t you in your pajamas?” Minnie looks up at you with a confused expression on her face, beer can in hand. 

“Yeah, just going to stop by a friend’s place real quick.” You grab your keys off of the coffee table before moving towards the door.

She gives you a skeptical look, raising her eyebrow at your explanation. “I’m not going to ask you any more questions, but don’t do anything you’ll regret. I’ll be awake if you need me to save you or something– And don’t come back too late!”

“Got it, Mom.” The two of you share a laugh as you walk out into the hallway of your apartment complex, hearing the door beep as it locks shut behind you. You internally apologize to Woonhak and Jaehyun as you wait for the elevator to come up to your floor. You were seriously doing this, huh?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

In any other situation, you probably wouldn’t be going out of your way to walk across campus at midnight— But because it’s a Friday, there were groups of students roaming around, making their way to bars or house parties. 

The weather was perfect for the walk, albeit it was only about ten minutes long. Even in your shorts, you weren’t too cold on the short trip to the house. It was hard to expect anything in particular by showing up, but you prayed you wouldn’t feel like a fool no matter what happened tonight. 

Just as Taesan said, the door to the house was unlocked; you turned the knob and slowly opened it, revealing the familiar interior. It was significantly cleaner than the last time you were there, probably because they weren’t throwing a party tonight. In this sort of setting, it looked more like a regular home than anything. The led lights towards the ceiling were set to a cool purple, enveloping the room in the color. The speakers were playing music, but at a more casual volume; just loud enough to hear the people you were talking to without being too disruptive to the conversation, maintaining a chill background noise for the smoke session you walked into. 

“Y/N? Come sit with us. Taesan just left to go buy some drinks.” Leehan’s head pops up at your entrance, motioning you to sit next to him on the couch with his hand. “You know anyone here?”

Taking the spot next to him, you glance around the faces scattered around the room. You’re glad they’re all preoccupied with passing around a bong, otherwise you wouldn’t be looking at everyone so shamelessly. There were only about six other people there, but you could only name Minji from her Instagram profile.

You shake your head no in response, giving him an awkward smile. “That’s okay, it doesn’t really matter. You can just stick by me tonight, then.” Leehan reassures you, oddly sweet compared to your last interaction. “Do you smoke?”

“Not really,” You answer. Weed wasn’t your drug of choice– you would’ve much rather preferred to drink, but it wasn’t something you were opposed to. It wouldn’t hurt, right? If anything, it’ll help you take away all the anxiety that was currently weighing down your shoulders. “I’ll smoke tonight though. It’s hard not to join in when you’ve all started without me.” There was no way in hell you were going to stay in that room longer than fifteen minutes if you were sober. 

“Atta girl, I knew you would fit right in.” The brunette praises as he reaches to pick up the tray on the table. You watch as Leehan fills up the rolling paper, skillfully turning it into a neatly packed joint. It’s kind of mesmerizing– you can tell he does this often with the way he finishes in an instant, licking the edge of the paper to close it. Of course, he doesn’t fail to make eye contact as he does so, effectively bringing a blush to your cheeks. Leehan’s looks were no joke. 

It made so much sense to think that Leehan and Taesan were roommates. Leehan reaches into the pocket of his shirt, pulling out a neon green lighter. He places the joint in his mouth, cupping the end and inhaling as he lights it on fire. His head is thrown back onto the couch as he exhales into the air after holding it towards you, urging you to take a hit of your own. 

You take the spliff from him, noticing how large his hands are in comparison to your own. Your actions mimic his; bringing it up to your lips and breathing in the smoke. You immediately cough at the taste, embarrassed that your body seems to reject the weed despite having done this before. Leehan giggles at you, covering his mouth as he rubs the small of your back to help your coughing fit. 

“First time?” He takes it back from you, holding it between his fingers as it burns into the air. “You can be honest, I won’t judge.”

“...No, but it’s been a while.” The two of you are in your own bubble at this point, as you pay no mind to the other people just a couple of feet away. Almost as a means of proving yourself, you snatch the joint from his hand, taking another deep inhale-- successfully without interruption this time, making you internally sigh in relief. The two of you go back and forth sharing it, alternating hits as it slowly shrinks, his spare hand resting on your bare thigh throughout the whole thing. 

“You look like a natural now,” His laugh is breathy; he looked dazed over. It’s unknown how long they’d been at it before you arrived. “You feeling it yet?” He questions as he looks you in the eyes; his own are already glazed over, making them sparkle more than they normally did.

You can’t hold in your giggle at seeing him in such a state. “You are, that’s for sure.” You’re not sure when the two of you moved closer to each other, but your shoulders are touching as you both rest against the comfort of the couch. “I feel really good.” 

The eye contact between you two is broken as you look towards the sound of the door opening. Taesan walks through the entrance with a case of drinks under his arm, taking off his shoes before placing the box onto the table, only after taking one for himself. His face lights up once he sees you on the couch, sending you a grin as he takes his place next to Minji. ���Nice to see you again, pretty.” 

Oh, right. You almost forgot she was here– you were so caught up in smoking with Leehan that you weren’t trying to get to know any of the other session attendees. Not that anyone cared, though. Most of them were just lying around, either swaying to the music that continuously played throughout the room, eating from the bags of open snacks laid out on the table, or nonverbal on their phones. 

Minji tries to wrap her arm around Taesan’s as he sits down, earning a side-eye from him as he gently pulls it away. It feels like you should be jealous after seeing that, but your mind is fuzzy. “Looks like Leehan stole my seat.” His tone is passive-aggressive as he addresses the man currently curled up next to you.

“Your seat? Maybe you should’ve called dibs if you wanted to sit next to Y/N so bad. I got her fair and square.” Leehan bites back. “I don’t know why you left right after you asked her to come over.”

He moves to put his arm around you– you can tell he’s trying to push his roommates’ buttons, and you decide to play into it. You two share a brief look, mischief in your eyes, as you both silently understand what you were doing. Instead of pushing his arm away like Taesan had just done with Minji, you lean into it, resting your head by his shoulder as you take another inhale of smoke. The pair of roommates are entranced by the way the cloud leaves your mouth, swirling and twisting into the air before ultimately disappearing. 

Leehan moves the both of you to where you’re sitting up properly and takes his arm off of you. Across the room, Taesan can’t keep his eyes off of the two of you; the way you’re feeding into Leehan’s obvious moves on you. “Can I try something?” You’re a little lost, but you nod your head regardless. His fingers brush against yours as he takes the blunt from your fingers, now a little less than half the size it was when he first rolled it. 

He takes a long drag, pulling away while keeping the smoke in his mouth. You’re shocked to feel his hand on your cheek, bringing your face closer to his and using his thumb to part your mouth open. You also feel Han Taesan’s gaze burning into your skull, but you can’t turn to look with the grip Leehan has on you. 

Leehan slowly pushes the smoke out between his lips, which were currently only a couple of inches away from your own. You inhale instinctively, a bridge of smoke connecting you as you do so. The scene feels like it’s in slow motion, or maybe that’s just the high you’re currently feeling. You don’t know when other people began watching the exchange, but you can faintly hear witnesses egging on the intimate moment you’re sharing with Leehan. 

After all the smoke has passed between you, he moves his thumb to your mouth again, caressing your bottom lip gently. Leehan wants to kiss you. You know he’s not entirely there as he gives you a dopey grin, biting his own lip as his thoughts are fixated on how pretty he thinks you look right now. 

As much as you enjoyed the way Leehan was currently making you feel, you knew that it was all a game to him. It was significantly easier to read him– his intentions with you are as clear as day, unlike Taesan’s. The way he spoke to you didn’t fool you; his words were laced with nothing but lust, and you weren’t interested in taking it any further than it needed to be. This, you were sure of. With Han Taesan, you could never be too sure about what he was thinking. You wish it was this easy to see through him the way you could see through Leehan. 

You know exactly what you’re doing as you lean into the brunette. He smiles again, seemingly satisfied with your movements, as he closes his eyes and does the same. Of course he thinks he’s going to get what he wants. It pisses you off how smug he currently looks when he moves to kiss you.

“Please don’t, Y/N.” Right before you turn your head to swerve the kiss like you’d initially planned to, Taesan’s voice makes both you and Leehan halt your movements. His voice is… small. It’s not as confident as he would normally sound when talking to you; rather, it sounded like he was uncertain about whether or not you’d go as far as kissing his roommate in front of him. Leehan scoffs in annoyance, as he turns his head to look at the source of the interruption. 

“Way to cockblock, dude.” The room suddenly feels tense. You can feel more eyes on you now with the way Leehan’s voice pierces the music coming from the speakers. “She isn’t yours, you know that right? Just accept it, Taesan. If she wants to sleep with me, she can make that decision herself. Isn’t that right, Y/N?” You can’t tell if this is all a part of Leehan’s plan to piss off his friend, but you weren’t having it anymore.

“Leehan, I’m not going to sleep with you.” He’s laughing in disbelief-- Like he couldn’t believe anyone would turn him down like that, especially in front of people watching. You can tell his pride is hurt when he moves to the opposite end of the couch, as far away from you as he can get without having to stand up. 

“Your loss. I’m sure you’ve heard already, but I’m a good fuck-” Out of nowhere, Taesan is grabbing your wrist and brings you up to your feet, dragging you towards the door. Your limbs feel weightless as he holds on to you, your steps gliding on the hardwood floors. You’re barely able to put on your own shoes as you walk into the night, Taesan leading the way.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ 

The cool air is refreshing; you take deep breaths, relishing at how nice it feels to be free from the smell of weed surrounding you. “Dongmin, you’re holding me too tight.” You pull back against his grasp, and he immediately drops your wrist, standing in front of you now.

“Why’d you do that?”

“Do what? I came over like you asked me to.” 

“Yeah, and you were all over Leehan when I walked in.”

“It should’ve been you,” You breathe out, just barely above a whisper. “He told me you left when I got there.”

“If you wanted it to be me, then why’d you let him do that? You know how he is.” He looks hurt as he confronts you, and you almost regret what you did back there.

“No, Dongmin, I don’t know how he is. And I also don’t know why you’re angry at me right now. You’re acting like I knew he was going to pull that stunt on me!” He doesn’t know why he’s feeling this way either. Your annoyance is clear as the night sky above you. 

“...Fine, say you didn’t know he was going to do that,” His brows furrowed as he interrogated you further.  “Why’d you lean in?”

“I knew you were watching us. I wasn’t going to kiss him either way.” You confess, not seeing the point in dancing around the bush. What you did could be seen as toxic, but you wanted to see if it would affect him at all-- to get him annoyed, jealous. Anything that could signal that he actually gave a shit about you. 

“Can you cut the bullshit? Do you want to sleep with my friend or not?”

“Did you not hear what I said to him? I told him straight to his face that I didn’t want to have sex with him– In front of everyone, for god’s sake Dongmin! Are you hearing yourself?” Taesan is quiet, not knowing what to say.

“Why does any of this matter to you?” You prod, impatiently awaiting his response. Because he likes you. Because you’re more than another one of his groupies. More than just a meaningless one night stand. You just need him to say it himself.

“Forget it, then. Where’s your apartment? It’s late, I’ll take you back.” He dismisses his previous outburst. You aren’t surprised that he changes the subject, but you wished he took the chance to clear up whatever it was between you two. 

“I can go on my own.” You turn away from him, knowing that if you look at him properly your resolve will fall almost immediately. 

“I’m not letting you walk back at one in the morning, Y/N. It’s not good for a pretty girl to go home alone like this.” Why does he want to ensure the safety of a girl he won’t even admit he has feelings for? 

“You don’t need to do that. I’ll just call someone while I go home, it’s not that serious.” You brush off his offer nonchalantly despite knowing you wouldn’t want to go back alone at this time of night. 

“I want to.” Taesan’s insistent; you didn’t take him as the type of guy to be so stubborn when it came to things like this. “It’s either you let me walk you home, or I’m just going to trail five feet behind you until I see you get back safe.” 

“You’d look like a freak doing that, by the way.” You tease, laughing at the image of him following you around like a bodyguard. 

“Oh, I’m very aware. Which is why I’m politely requesting that you let me walk you home.” His gaze is soft as he pleads with you for the last time. “Please, Y/N?” 

The next three minutes go by in silence, the only noise being the nearby chatter of the occasional groups of partygoers passing by the area. You never explicitly told him to go away, but he matches your pace as you make your way towards your apartment. 

Halfway through the walk, you realize that this could be your chance to talk to Taesan properly. A chance to learn more about him without any intrusions; to see the type of person he truly is. At this very moment in time, this is the closest thing he’ll ever be to being yours.

“I’m thirsty, Dongmin.” You blurt out, suddenly realizing how dry your mouth was, having had nothing to drink for the past hour. 

“Are we almost at your place? You can drink something when you get home, no?” His steps slow down as he turns to you, his hands resting in his pockets. He isn’t wrong, but you were searching for an excuse to extend the time you had alone with him. 

He’s met with your pouty face looking up at him, and he swears his composure dissolves in an instant; he would do anything for you right then and there. “…There’s a convenience store nearby.” 

Your face lights up as you put your hand out for him to take, telling him to bring you there. It’s things like this— you always manage to find a way to catch him off guard. Taesan’s not used to being the flustered one when it comes to women, but he'll gladly endure it if it was you doing it to him.  

The neon sign is bright in the dark of the night, lighting up both of your faces as the boy moves to open the door, motioning for you to go in first. You wrap your arms around your torso as you head towards the refrigerated section, selecting your drink of choice after some thought. “Are you hungry?” 

He shakes his head no, but his eyes are fixated on you across from him standing in your pajamas, playing with the strings of your hoodie as you stand in the middle of the convenience store. His heart is beating so fast, he’s worried you can hear it from where you are. “Why are you looking at me like that, Dongmin?”

The speed in which his cheeks turn pink is endearing. “Uh, your eyes are red.” Taesan clears his throat as he looks back to the various beverages in front of them, pretending to read the labels as he puts an end to his obvious ogling. 

“Thanks, genius. Who would’ve guessed?” You tuck the bottle you were holding under your arm, moving to look through the aisles of snacks and pre-packaged food lining the store. “You aren’t high anymore?” 

“I stopped smoking right after I got off call with you. I don’t really feel it.” To be honest, Taesan wasn’t much of a smoker either, but you didn’t need to know that. The smoke sesh was planned by none other than his roommate, and Taesan only happened to walk in on it after returning home from one of the campus recording booths. He only took a few hits before he thought it’d be a good way to invite you over; it was not nearly enough to get him in the floaty state you were coming down from. 

“Well, I still am. And I’m fucking starving,” He lets out a small laugh, watching you exaggeratedly ponder about which pack of instant ramen you were going to get. “Do you want anything?” 

“Mm, no. Not that hungry.” You squat down to the floor in an attempt to see the bottom shelves better. He’s glancing around the aisle as well, moving to pick up something from above you. When you turn to look at him again, he’s holding out a cup of Shin Ramyun in your face. 

You tilt your head. “I thought you didn’t want anything, though?” 

“I don’t,” He answers matter-of-factly. “This is one of my favorites.” You hesitantly take the ramen from his hands as you get up, walking towards the cashier at the front of the store without any further comment.

You can feel Taesan standing behind you as you both watch the worker scan your drink and ramen. “It’s going to be 3,000 won.” Pulling out your phone to pay, your face recognition fails once, preventing you from opening your Apple wallet. You send an apologetic smile to the cashier for the hold-up.

Your card finally shows up on your screen, allowing you to finally tap the corner of the pay screen– except you’re met with Taesan’s hand holding his card and paying for your items. “Thank you, have a nice night!” The worker pushes your purchases towards you on the counter. Taesan moves to pick them up from behind you, bringing it to a table in the corner of the store.

He slides out the chair for you, which you move to sit in afterwards. Taesan grabs your drink and twists the cap off, offering the opened bottle to you. You gladly accept, taking big gulps and soothing your cottonmouth. “I could’ve done that myself, Dongmin. Same with paying back there.” 

“I know,” Opening up the ramen halfway, he brings the cup up to the hot water dispenser, filling up the line inside. “You probably haven’t noticed it, but you’re moving in slow motion. It makes me want to take care of you.” His last comment is just barely loud enough for you to hear. He finally sits down next to you after he uses a pair of chopsticks to pin the cover of the ramen closed while it cooks.

“I owe you then,” You comment, taking another sip from the bottle in your hand. 

He almost looks offended at your offer to pay off your debt, waving his hand no in front of your face. “Just take it as an apology for me lashing out at you earlier… Sorry. I don’t know why I got so angry back at the house.” 

You want to roll your eyes and tell him the answer to his obliviousness. Surely he should know why. It’s because you like me, isn’t it? Perhaps it’s a big conclusion to jump to, but it’s the only reason that would justify his jealousy after seeing you and Leehan together. 

Taesan takes the chopsticks off of the cup ramen, breaking them apart and mixing together the noodles. Bringing a wad of noodles into the air, he gently blows on it, the steam rising into the air. You gasp at the smell, suddenly reminded of the intense case of munchies you were experiencing. He hums as he finishes cooling down the bite, bringing the chopsticks to your mouth. “Here.” 

Is he trying to feed you? Your eyebrows raise in shock, moving away slightly before leaning in, accepting the food he was holding out for you. The smile he gives you as he watches you eat is sickeningly sweet; he looks content seeing you so happy while you eat. Taking the chopsticks from his hand, you mirror his actions, except this time you offer a bite to the boy currently watching your every move.

It was cute the way he looked like a surprised puppy once he realized you were giving him a bite of his own. He opens his mouth, letting you feed him the cooled-down noodles. You watch as a blush creeps up his neck once more; he covers his mouth as he chews, looking away to avoid your gaze. “Thanks.” He utters, voice quiet with the way he was currently refusing to face you.

This side of Taesan is what truly baffled you. Despite your tendency to fall for people quicker than most, you were smart enough to catch onto the signs of someone liking you back. And in Han Taesan’s case, it couldn’t be clearer to you– his usual cool-guy image disappearing when it comes to you, his atypical moments of concern, his jealousy when it comes to other men, his current acts of service. 

Even to Woonhak and Jaehyun, it sounded like Taesan liked you. The only thing that made you question your theory was the fact that he seemed to have a tendency to run. To run away when things between you two became a little too real. But what was holding him back from being honest with himself? 

“Do I make you nervous, Dongmin?” You wanted to try and pry the words you wanted to hear out from him. 

Now, he reminded you of a deer caught in headlights. His head snaps back towards you, eyes the widest you’ve ever seen them. His sudden movements make him choke on the ramen he has in his mouth. Your hand immediately moves to his back to pat it as he coughs. Pushing your bottle of water towards him, he gladly takes a swig from it to end his coughing fit. “Why do you think that? Do I seem nervous around you?”

“Sort of. I can’t really think of a good way to describe it right now.” You pick up the chopsticks that were resting on the side of the cup to take another bite into your mouth. “But I feel like there’s more to you than what you let on.”

He’s resting his head on his hand now, elbow propped up on the metal table. “What do you mean? You think I’d be different than I am now?”

“Not exactly. In fact, I think the way you act with me is what I’d expect from you. It’s more like… With what little I know about you, I’d think you weren’t this sweet just based on how you look.”

“...Is there something bad about the way I look?”

You scoff, playfully pushing his shoulder. “You can’t seriously be acting like this right now. Everyone on campus thinks you’re hot.” It’s true, yourself included. 

“Oh, is that so?” His lips curve up into a smile. You both know damn well that he’s attractive. 

“Whatever,” Grabbing the drink sitting in front of him, you wash down the taste of your last bite. “I think I’ve almost got you figured out, Dongmin. There’s just a couple things I can’t quite place.” It’s only somewhat true, but you were hoping saying this would make him open up about himself more. 

 “If that’s the case, you could’ve just asked me, angel.” Taesan looks taken aback at your admission. In all honesty, he doesn’t know what you’re referring to, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to find out. “What do you want to know?”

“Anything, really.”

“Anything?”

“You realize you probably know nothing about me, right? I’d say the same about you.”

“What? That’s not true,” He pauses for a second to think about what he could possibly recall about you, only to find that you were right. “Oh. I guess you have a point.” He scratches the back of his head, feeling guilty agreeing with what you just said. “It’s weird, though. I feel like I’m comfortable with you even if we don’t know each other that well.” 

“So, are you going to tell me more about yourself or should we just keep pretending we’re friends like we have been this whole time?” 

He pouts at you. “You don’t think we’re friends?” 

“...Okay, I’ll get going then.” You glare at him as you clean up your mess, dumping it into the empty ramen cup. You move to stand up, only to find him tugging gently on your sweatshirt sleeve and pulling you back down into your chair. 

“Sorry, I was just joking,” He gives you an apologetic look before straightening his posture and turning to face you better. Your knees were touching now, faces only a couple feet away from each other. “Where should I start, then? My MBTI or something?”

“Whatever you feel like telling me, Dongmin. I’m not looking for anything in particular.” You shrug. You truly didn’t know anything about him from just your interactions and what you heard people say about him, which weren’t necessarily the best, to say the least. Anything he said would be new information to you.

“I don’t really think MBTI is that serious, but I’m an INTJ. I wanted to be an idol until I graduated middle school, but I don’t think that kind of spotlight fits me too well anymore. That’s why I settled on being a music major instead. I think I’d rather be behind the scenes instead of being on the main stage all the time.” 

You can feel a smile creeping up on your face at the way he’s genuinely indulging in your request. “I can see it. You being an idol, that is.”

“You think so? I don’t know. Seems pretty tiring to keep up an act like that all the time. Plus, I think I’m happy where I am right now,” Taesan looks down at his hands, twiddling his thumbs as he continues. “It’d be hard to not be able to see my family all the time as an idol.”

“Your family?”

“Yeah, I have two younger siblings back at home. I miss them a lot, even if I’m not that far from home. It’s kind of sad to think that I miss out on watching them grow up when I’m at school.” 

You place your hand atop his, making him stop his fidgeting. Just like that, Han Taesan felt a lot more real to you. He feels like Han Dongmin. “I’m sorry. It must be difficult for you then, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, sometimes.” He takes your hand in his, playing with your fingers now instead. The action makes you giggle to yourself; he really resembled a big baby. “It’s fine though, I text them all the time. My dad’s always sending me pictures of our new dog or them having dinner together. It’s not like I can’t call them when I want to. I’m just grateful.”

You hum in acknowledgment. “Yeah, I get it. It’s nice having some of my friends from high school go here too, otherwise, I think I’d be way too homesick for my liking.”

“Are you far from home then?”

“I’m only a couple hours away, but I’m kind of sappy when it comes to things like that. Like, I find a lot of sentimental meaning in different things, and my hometown obviously holds a lot of that for me, growing up there and all.” 

“It’s great you have people here you know though, seriously. When I first got here, I knew no one. I only met Leehan by chance at some club event I went to.” Taesan lets out a small laugh at the memory. “He was a lot different back then, I’d say. He pisses me off sometimes, but he’s a good friend most of the time. Dude’s a lot more normal when it’s just us at the house together.” 

You think back to your few interactions shared with his roommate. How different could he have been if that’s the way he acts now? It’s hard to imagine Leehan anything else than your typical college fuckboy, but you initially saw the boy sitting next to you the same way, so you don’t write it off as impossible.

“I don’t know why I’m talking about him. He’s been annoying me lately,” The grip he has on your hand tightens slightly, but quickly returns to his previous gentle hold. “Who are your friends from home? Sungho and Riwoo?”

“Huh? No, I only met them last year, but they’re the best. It was some dumb assigned group project thing, but we get along really well. I’m usually hanging out with my friends Jaehyun and Woonhak, though.” Saying their names aloud reminds you of how they pleaded with you to drop Han Taesan just days before this– yet here you were, your hand in his as you talked about your lives in the middle of the local convenience store. 

“Ah, Woonhak? He’s younger than us, right?” You nod, completely forgetting that Woonhak was the reason you found out that there was another girl Taesan was currently entertaining. “He’s funny, I’ve hung out with him a few times here and there. He keeps asking me to show him what songs I’ve been writing recently.” 

This makes you think they were closer than they really were, but you knew it was just Woonhak’s usual (endearingly) nosy self at work. “Wow, Woonhak gets to hear them but I can’t?” You pull your hand away from him to grab at your chest, pretending that the realization broke your heart. 

“Come on baby, don’t be like that.” Taesan takes your hand back into his, letting them rest where your knees meet. “I can show you sometime, just not now though. I’ve been working on something special recently, and it’s not perfect yet.” 

“Do you call everyone that?” His eyes meet yours, tilting his head to the side slightly. 

Upon understanding what you’re trying to get at, he waves his free hand in front of you defensively. “Ah, it’s not like that. Just force of habit, I guess?”

“Okay, so by force of habit, you mean yes. I got it.” Taesan opens his mouth to defend himself again, but you cut him off. “Don’t freak out, I don’t really care. We’re friends, right?” You laugh to yourself at the irony of your own statement. Yeah, friends who kiss and call each other pet names. So stupid. 

The chime above the door jingles as a group of very obviously inebriated college students come in, loudly seeking out food to satisfy their drunk cravings. “It’s getting late, can I walk you home properly now?” 

Quickly cleaning up after yourselves, you both make your way out of the convenience store before you run into more groups of people coming back from the parties that just ended. Taesan grabs your hand as you start walking, interlocking your fingers in his. You were surprised, but definitely not complaining. The way his large hand felt in comparison to yours was addicting; you’d never let go if you could. Feeling your phone buzz in your pocket, you use your free hand to see who’s texting you. 

2 new messages from “babygirl minnie”! Minnie: babe r u coming home tonight or do i need to pick u up from somewhere 🤔 Minnie: i’m going to sleep in like 20 mins lmk ASAP or ill kill u 😘 to: “babygirl minnie”! You: yes mother i’m omw back now 👍 u dont need to stay up someone’s walking back with me

You watch the screen as she hearts your message almost immediately, and you slip your phone back into your pocket. “Who’s that?” Taesan asks, who was peering over his shoulder while you replied.

“It’s my roommate. She’s worried I’m not going to get back safe.” 

“I would be too if I had a beautiful girl like you as my roommate walking all by herself at this time.” His hand squeezes yours gently as you walk, the night sky littered with stars. The route you were taking home wasn’t your usual route. In fact, it was the longest path you could take without straying too far off campus. Was it so wrong to want to hold hands with Han Taesan as long as you possibly could?

“I wish I got to see you like this more often, Dongmin.” 

“Well, you’re seeing me now. That’s not enough for you, angel?” His steps slow down, making you stop as well. 

“That’s not what I meant. It was nice to talk to you normally for once.”

“Ah, so my girl wants to talk to me more. I’m just a call away, you know.”

You scoff at his words. “We both know that’s not true.” If you even tried calling, would he bother to answer? For all you know, he’d just go back to leaving you with nothing but radio silence for days on end.

“…I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

“What I want to know is why you treat me so nicely and then disappear for a week?” It might be the effects of your high coming to an end, but you suddenly feel all the frustration you’d previously felt when it came to Taesan coming out of nowhere. “Fuck, I hate to ruin the nice moment we just had but it’s hard not to say something when you make me feel like an idiot every time.”

In front of you, Taesan stares back with a blank expression. Nothing. It’s as if he doesn’t even know what he’s been doing to you. Seeing his face just angers you further. “Hell, I don’t even know why it’s so hard for me to not come running back to you the second you call. I look ridiculous going back to you even when my best friends told me not to.”

“Y/N, calm down. You’re thinking too deeply about things right now. Maybe it’s the weed.” Taesan tries to put his hand on your arm, but you pull away immediately. You felt like he wasn’t hearing anything you were saying. 

“Am I just someone you hit up when you’re lonely? Just someone who’s conveniently always going to answer? That’s the last person I’d want to be to you.”

“C’mon, sweetheart. You’re more than that to me, okay?” 

“I wish I could find it in me to believe you, Taesan.” 

“I don’t like hearing you call me that.” Hearing his nickname come from your mouth felt like an arrow to the heart, for some reason. It all felt wrong. You shouldn’t be calling him that intentionally; it wasn’t right coming from you. Taesan didn’t want you to see him the same way everyone else did, but he couldn’t explain why.  

“Even things like this, like calling you by your real name. You make it feel like you genuinely care about me, even when you have other girls wrapped around your finger the same way you have me. It’s like you go out of your way to make me feel special only to forget about me the next day!”

“Darling, you are special to me. I don’t know how else to prove it to you.” He couldn’t be serious. How did he expect you to feel special when, for all you know, he could be treating his next girl the exact same way? 

“You confuse me, Taesan.  Because just now, in that convenience store, you seemed like you were telling me things you haven’t told other people, but I know that the chances of me even hearing from you tomorrow are slim.”

“You’re acting like we’re dating or something. We were never anything like that, Y/N.” He spits back without thinking, feeling equally as frustrated now. The night air felt colder than it did before. Whether or not Han Taesan reciprocated your feelings, he was completely oblivious to his actions. Leehan was right. Taesan wasn’t yours, nor were you his, but you felt like tonight told you everything you needed to know. 

Your mouth opens in disbelief. “Don’t say that shit to me,” You turn on your heel, angrily resuming your way back to your apartment. Taesan raises his arm, debating on whether or not to try and stop you from ending the conversation as is, ultimately letting it fall back to his side. You look back at him after a few steps. “I’m fine going home on my own, so don’t bother following me to my place.” 

Han Taesan knew he screwed up. 

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[kelppsstuff]

All these exorcists looking so serious

How about an exorcist reader who's only stoic when fighting but she's genuinely such a cheerful and positive darling?

":0! GUYS LOOK!!" "Awh, don't be sad, I bet lotsa other angels would like to be with you!" "I'm so sorry- I didn't mean to bump into you while flying babes :(("

- sweetheart anon

“Kisses!”

Summary: Basically just a sweet heart angel who kills sinners and has magical kisses!

Warnings: None I can think of!

F!Reader

Navigation — other works!

❦❦❦

“Ouch! Shit.” I look to my left, catching sight of Ariel clenching her side. I hurried over to her — sitting her down while I called for a medic to rush over. “Oh my gosh — are you okay?” I asked, worry laced in my tone.

“Yeah I’m good Y/N. Just need a stitch.” I felt bad at the sight of her wincing in pain. “Oh you poor thing. Muwah, there all better!” I smiled sweetly at her, kisses always makes things better. “Thank you.” She gave me a sweet smile to — and for a moment I saw her relax.

—

“FUCKING SHIT BALLS!” I looked over to the only man who would have such a vocabulary. Adam.

I walked over to him — giving him a worried glance over. “Are you okay? What happened?” I put my hand on his arm — since he was two tall for me to reach his shoulder.

“Yeah,” he cleared his throat before continuing. “I’m cool or whatever I just stubbed my toe.”

“Awe, I’m so sorry. Muwah.” I used my wings to fly me up enough to give a kiss to his cheek.

“It’s, it’s whatever dude.” I could see the smile he had on his face — or maybe it was a smirk.

More often the not after that — Adam always hurt himself being clumsy when I was around. And every time my kisses made him feel better. They were magical.

—

“I swear if I have another sinner punch me one more time I’m going to lose it.” I sip my boba tea as I watch Lute rub the bruise forming on her cheek.

She had gotten a bit bruised up in this last extermination. I couldn’t help but feel guilty that I wasn’t there to help her.

I leaned over the table and gave a kiss to her cheek. A slight blush formed over her face, I could see her rolling her eyes. Though the slight grin on her face told me she was in a lot better mood.

“You should totally try some of my boba tea!”

—

“How did you get in to this elite group anyway?” Ariel asked, I could tell it was genuine curiosity and not teasing like some others did.

To be honest I couldn’t blame someone for doubting my abilities — but I think people tend to forget that we are in a heaven. Not all of us are killing machines.

“I guess I just passed the exam. I had an opportunity and I took it. It’s worked out for me this far.” Me and her shared a little laugh before I offered her some of my candies.

—

I used my sword to slice off a sinners head quickly, not wanting to draw out his death.

Looking over to my right I saw Ariel get kicked into a wall. I flew quickly to her — helping her up. “I think they broke my rib.” I felt it, and yep she definitely did. “Head over to the portal, I think we’re leaving soon.” My voice was emotionless as I gave her a kiss to her cheek.

I rush after the sinner who ran away. I flew in front of him and he ran down an alley way. “Just you and me.” I spoke out drawing my sword. Before he could make a sound I stabbed him through the mouth and pinned him to the alley wall.

Some of his blood splattered on my face as the life in his eyes died. “Time to pay the piper.”

“Now that, was badass.” I looked over to Adam, and Lute. Adam was clapping, a proud smile on his face while Lute looked away — nervous.

I pulled my sword away from the sinner before running over to the two. “Is the portal open yet? Ariel got hurt.” Wordiness was in my tone — to which Adam grabbed chin, stoping me from talking.

“Sush babe — it’s all under control.”

—

I sighed out as I read over Adam’s report. It was normal he’d come to me with his paper work when Lute was busy.

“What? That’s like the fifth sigh.” I looked up to the first man. To be honest I hadn’t really known I was sighing that much.

“It’s just — I give everybody kisses or blow them ones when they are feeling down.”

Adam sat beside me, “uh huh.” Gesturing for me to continue. “Well it’s just sometimes I wish I could get some kisses when I get hurt or feel down.”

“Muwah.” I looked to my left where Adam was sitting. I smiled as I cached the kiss he blew.

—

“Ariel!” My friend looked over to me, “hm?”

“You’ll never guess what’s been happening over the last few months!” She gave me a confused look, “what’s been happening?”

“So you know Adam right? Our boss? First man? Rockstar?” Ariel gave me a smile, “I think I’ve heard of him.”

“Oh Ariel don’t be silly — you’ve seen him. Did you hit your head?”

“That was sarcasm.”

“Oh.”

…

…

…

“Well? What’s been happening these last few months?” She asked after a long silence.

“Oh right! So you know how I give hugs, or kisses, or make people cakes when they get sad or hurt?” Ariel nodded her head, “one of many things I like about you.”

I smiled at her adorableness. “Well — I told Adam I get sad when no one does that for me and well now every time I’m not in a good mood or I hurt myself he’ll pat my head, or blow me a kiss, or will be really sweet.”

“Adam?!”

“Yeah! Like today I dropped my boba tea and he wrapped his wing around me and gave me his!”

“Aweeeeee.”

—

Lute got up from the chair, cursing loudly when she hit her shin. “Muwah.” She slowly looked over to Adam, and he slowly look up from gutair.

“This never happened.”

His voice was low, and you could see his embarrassment through his mask.

❦❦❦

A/N: it’s been awhile, hi! So I’m not going to be posting daily, or to to much, but I’m going o try and get more stuff out. I’ve been inactive and that’s just because in my opinion I haven’t been writing well — and I don’t want to put out writing I don’t love. I will eventually get to your request, however it won’t be immediate. I’m sorry this is so short and please have a lovely day!

[galaxiasgreen]

📚🐦‍🔥Stay With Me

Slow burn Garreth x F!Reader romcom-mystery [T-Rated, 5.6k words]

You don't meet his eye. "I've prepared you some questions, for this... tutorship." You unbuckle your satchel and take out not one, not two, but four rolls of parchment, one for each subject, and slide them across the table. "It's simple multiple-choice so I can figure out how much you know. It won't take you long to do." He stares at them, open-mouthed. "You've set me homework?"

Garreth Weasley is good at Potions… and not much else. You, a bookish, lonesome Ravenclaw with a weighted family secret, are good at everything… except Potions. Assigned together for a mutual tutorship, Garreth is sure he won’t meet anyone more boring.

But the potions lab isn’t the only place where sparks will fly.

Tropes: romance/ humour/ drama, slow burn, fluff, tutoring together, grumpy x sunshine, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, pining, love triangle, dark secret, sworn off love, Everyone Can See It.

[NEXT]

[read on AO3, read on Wattpad]

A/N: Just to note, in this story Garreth and others fought Ranrok with MC. Enjoy!

1. A Mutual Tutorship

He calls you Prim, mostly because you hate it.

It's not a nickname Garreth gives you for fun (though make no mistake, he loves to tease you with it). No, it's a nickname that's descriptive, deriving from your most cardinal trait. Prim, because you are. Prim and proper and academically minded. Meanwhile he's never had an aptitude for learning, preferring the freedom of exploration over the rigid structure of curriculum.

On paper, you seem like a match made in hell – but in practice? Well, he's always up for a challenge.

He doesn't get to meet you, though, until the dawn of his sixth year, when easy classes and free periods for the exam-weary older students are over. He doesn't even meet you on the day he first hears of you.

Back then, you were merely an illicit suggestion.

"I'm worried about you, Garreth."

He sinks into the chair in Professor Weasley's office. He's been here so many times now it practically feels like a second home, mostly for, ahem, disciplinary reasons, but there are the rare moments when his aunt calls him in for a quick catch-up, tea and biscuits, sometimes to discuss family news – a great grand-uncle dying or one of his cousins announcing a betrothal.

When the professor called him in this time, two days into the term, he thought maybe his parents were expanding their gnome collection and she wanted him to advise against it (there is such a thing as too many gnomes, and it's any number more than zero). Or maybe his sister Clara needed help adjusting to the school – she's a first year now, after all.

So it's like the rug is yanked from under him when she asks about his grades.

"It's two days into the autumn term, Auntie," he says, not prepared to have this conversation so soon. "What's there to worry about? I haven't even had all my N.E.W.T. classes yet."

"That's exactly what I wanted to discuss with you. You have so much potential, Garreth. You are incredibly bright and passionate, and I know you are capable of so much, but your O.W.L. scores left a lot to be desired, and I worry that you won't be able to handle the workload this year."

"Don't know if you remember," he says airily, "but I practically saved Hogwarts—"

"Yes, yes, last year in the caverns below with your friends, I know, Garreth. I was there." Her lips bunch. "But no school-saving antics will boost your grades. Your heroics are the only reason you don't have to repeat your O.W.L.s, and you won't have such an opportunity this time around."

He drops his head on the back of the chair, groaning. Imagine stopping a whole goblin rebellion... and still having to write history essays. He literally made history.

"Your father suggested something I actually like," she says, drawing Garreth's eyes back down. "It seems you need some motivation, and I know you work well when you're with your friends. Therefore he suggested you pair with someone. A mutual tutorship, if you will."

"You want to give me a study buddy?"

"Yes! Oh, I do like that phrasing much better."

"You can phrase it any way you want. Still wipes."

"Garreth..."

"Come off it, Auntie. What are they gonna' do? Sit with me doing every piece of homework I have? And I didn't flop at everything. I got an Outstanding in Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Which were your only top grades, half of which because Hecat saw fit to reward your capabilities against Ranrok last summer," she remarks shortly, taking a piece of parchment. "You don't need a study buddy for those subjects. You do, however, need one for History of Magic, Astronomy, Divination and," she stares meaningfully over the rim of her spectacles, "Transfiguration."

He grins sheepishly. "As it happens, I know someone who's great at it?"

She sighs, putting the parchment aside and dropping into her chair. "I know you want to become a potioneer, Garreth, but even the most famous potioneers are well-rounded individuals and excelled in subjects outside of their specialty. Look at Professor Sharp! He was an Auror!"

"Okay, I get it, I get it." All this talk depresses him – all this knowing that he's a problem depresses him. "I promise I did try. I just— find revising very hard and demotivating. And you know, the whole saving-the-world thing..."

Professor Weasley gives him the look.

"I made it to N.E.W.T. classes, didn't I? I'll try this year, I will. You don't have to get me a... study buddy."

"Oh, but I think I do, and as it were, I happen to know the perfect student to match with you. A very bright young lady one year your junior, a Ravenclaw. She excels in all her subjects" – she pauses – "except Potions."

"So you want me to teach her Potions," he clarifies, "and her to teach me everything else?"

"That's right."

"Doesn't seem fair."

"I think you'll find it will be." She makes a knowing face that he doesn't like. "So, what do you say? Want to give it a try?"

"... Can I say no?"

"No."

He sighs. "Brilliant."

His schedule's already packed with classes and homework, now that his education's ramped up for sixth year, and he mulls on the extra work a mutual tutorship will bring for the next few days. Explaining it is even more difficult, when he has to tell Leander he's missing Quidditch for this.

"A study buddy?" he scoffs, as they lounge in the Gryffindor common room after classes that day. "Sounds right horrid."

"Tell me about it."

"Who're you pairing with? Do you know?"

"No idea. A Ravenclaw in the year below, apparently."

"A younger swot? Merlin's pelvis, couldn't she have put you with, I don't know, Amit? Or Everett? If she wanted a Ravenclaw?"

Garreth slouches. The sofas are so comfortable he doesn't want to move. "Bet she knew if she put me with either of them we'd get no work done, Everett because he'd be too busy trying to prank me, Amit because he'd be wasting time describing irrelevant extra stuff."

"Oh, no," Leander panics suddenly, "if this works then she might start doing it to all of us. I don't want a study buddy!"

"Relax. It's only because I'm her nephew that she's testing it with me."

He's sure his aunt wouldn't care quite so much if the same blood didn't run through their veins. After all, she has no children of her own – so Garreth and his sister are the closest she'll get. All her motherly affection, and motherly reprimand too, goes to them.

So when he gets the owl on Sunday afternoon to meet promptly in the library during lunch the next day, he sucks in his gut and resolves to at least try and have fun with it. He likes meeting new people, even if he doesn't like the circumstances – maybe he'll get along with the new Ravenclaw. Maybe they won't be as boring as he suspects.

He heads to the library the next day – late, mind, because he didn't particularly feel like rushing from Charms – and spots Professor Weasley waiting by the front desk.

That's the first time he sets his eyes on you.

Waiting placidly at his aunt's side, you're perfectly put together, not a hair out of place. Your waistcoat is straight, your long skirt starched, your shirt tucked in and top button done. You hold your books in your hand – because of course you do – and the satchel draped over your shoulder bulges with more of them.

You're the picture of a prim Ravenclaw student.

And it fills him with misery.

"Hello, hello," he says to you both, "sorry I'm late." Not.

You purse your lips, like you can detect his lie, but say nothing as his aunt gives him an admonishing glare. "That you are, Garreth. Did I not say you were to be prompt?"

"I grabbed some extra parchment, Professor," he makes sure to use her epithet in the presence of other students, "because I didn't know if I would need it."

By the way her brow loosens, it was a good lie. "All right. Come along, I've reserved a table for you both."

He decides to introduce himself to you on the way upstairs. "Nice to meet you."

You introduce yourself as well, but it's clear by your aloof eyes that you were also roped into this arrangement. "Nice to meet you as well," you repeat awkwardly, voice high with tension.

Turns out, Professor Weasley reserved an entire table, right at the back of the top floor. It seems unnecessary, the isolation, how you've obviously been coerced.

"Now, your proper sessions will take place after classes finish for the day, so for now I believe getting to know one another's style of learning would be most prudent." Professor Weasley ushers you to two seats next to each other. "I'll be sitting over there to keep an eye on you. Madam Scribner has given you both permission to have a quiet chat, so why not break the ice?"

It feels so forced Garreth would prefer to get a Howler right now, but under his aunt's stringent gaze, he plops onto the chair and tosses his bag under the seat. You draw out the seat gracefully, fold yourself upon it, and gently place your satchel, then books, on the table. There is method, he realises, to your movements.

"So..." he claps his hand awkwardly. "Where are you from?"

You clam up immediately, and he doesn't know why that's the wrong thing to ask, but he backtracks.

"Sorry, I mean – you know, where do you live?"

Your frown is still pronounced, but some relief breaths free. "London. You?"

"Devon."

"Right. I've never been there."

"It's nice. Except in the winter. Then the sea air is like murder."

Silence. He has a feeling he'll have to nudge all conversations, which is simply brilliant.

"Have any family?"

"Just my parents. They— they used to live in Asia, before coming here." You shift. "You? I mean, besides the professor."

"How much time do you have?" When you don't answer, he tugs his collar. Tough crowd. "Er, I have a younger sister. Clara, she's called. She's just started her first year. Little menace. Was hoping she wouldn't be Sorted into Gryffindor, but I guess it runs in the Weasley blood. Then there's my cousins, but there's so many that if I named them all you'd miss all your afternoon classes. Hey, maybe that wouldn't be a bad thing?"

You don't even crack a smile. This will be a long, painful conversation.

"Why don't we get started then?" he suggests instead, because the faster he does this, the faster he can leave. "I mean, discussing what we're meant to be, er, learning together? Shouldn't take very long for you if you're only failing Potions."

Your cheeks bloat. "I'm not failing. I just... need a little boost."

Touchy. Okay.

"Well, I'm not afraid to admit I'm failing."

"Yes," you say, and you list on your fingers as you go. "Transfiguration, History of Magic, Divination, and Astronomy. That's four subjects."

"Hey, last year it was five, but luckily I managed to wrangle a Kneazle before it bit Professor Howin, so she bumped up my grade." He's still quite proud of that moment. You make an unimpressed face. "What? You should be grateful we don't have collect Flobberworm mucus together."

"Okay, well, I've prepared you some tasks to complete."

His amusement drains like pus from a Bubotuber.

"What."

It's a statement of disbelief so sheer he doesn't even accompany it with the tonal flick of a question.

You don't meet his eye. "I've prepared you some questions, for this... tutorship." You unbuckle your satchel and take out not one, not two, but four rolls of parchment, one for each subject, and slide them across the table. "It's simple multiple-choice so I can figure out how much you know. It won't take you long to do."

He stares at them, open-mouthed.

"You've set me homework?"

"It's not homework."

"It's work that I have to do in my own time. It's homework."

Your lip curls in displeasure. "Like I said, if I'm going to tutor you, I need to know how much you already know. Then I can incorporate it into my lesson plan."

"Your lesson plan?"

"How else are we going to know what to cover per session?" you ask, bewildered. "You must have something planned for me, right?"

Of course he doesn't. He was just going to give you potions to brew and point out where you'd gone wrong. He rakes a hand through his hair, thinking about whether he could get away pretending to have a stomach/ head/ knee/ butt ache.

"If you don't want to do it later," you say, "you can do it now. Then I can be prepared for our first official session."

How about I run and never look back? With his aunt's watchful gaze on his back, he reluctantly unfurls the first scroll. Transfiguration. You hand him a quill and inkwell and he surfs through, ticking the answers he thinks are right.

"You're not even reading the questions."

"Am too."

"Glancing your eyes over words isn't the same as reading."

Oh, Merlin, you will be the death of him. Sniffing indignantly, he slows down, actually taking time to read the questions. How many exceptions are there to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration? He tries the rest, though not very hard, because just reading this stupid parchment has left him perplexed, and hands the scroll to you when he finishes.

He's halfway through puzzling when Geminis are born for the Divination quiz – he guesses February – before you roll his parchment up again.

"So? What's the verdict?"

You can't control the grimace on your face, and it's all he needs to know.

He's a total shambles. A failure.

"It's not— unsalvageable," you say hastily, your expression flattening. "But we have a lot of work to do."

He drops his head onto the table so loudly Madam Scribner yells "SSSHHH!" from the floor below.

When he's completed all your scrolls and falsely promises to make a list of things for your Potions O.W.L.s, you collect your belongings, slotting each book and scroll into its rightful place in your bag, give a quick word to his aunt in thanks and leave without goodbye. The whole exchange was about twenty minutes but to Garreth felt like twenty years. He tromps up to Professor Weasley in utter disbelief – and despairs in the way her grin unfurls.

"I told you it would be a fair exchange."

"She's made me homework, Auntie!"

"SSSHHH!" Scribner yells.

"Sorry!" he squeaks over the bannister. "Homework, Auntie. And— lesson plans. She told me I was practically unsalvageable!"

"I definitely heard not unsalvageable, Garreth."

"You can't be serious with this girl."

But Professor Weasley simply pets his shoulder.

"Your future is at stake here, Garreth. It's about time you start taking it seriously. She will help you. You will help each other."

But he really doubts it.

He waits for you outside of the Ravenclaw common room entrance for your first session later that week.

Dread roils through him as he leans against the bannister. Two hours of this, thrice a week, when he could be doing literally anything else. Quidditch has started again – which his aunt has barred him from playing due to his grades – but he could at least watch the Gryffindors practice, watch Leander and Eric Northcott toss Quaffles between them.

He's never had a mind for anything that doesn't interest him. History, divining the stars – both approaches. Even turning butterflies into bells doesn't capture his attention the same way potions do. There's just something about the way you can play loose and fast with the rules, with the ingredients, with the measurements, with the method, that delights his curiosity.

He wiggles his arm so it doesn't go to sleep. He's been to the Ravenclaw common room a few times, usually with Amit – for when they need to get back at Everett for catching them with a dungbomb. Unfortunately it means he's well acquainted with the eagle knocker.

"Honestly, Mr Weasley," it enunciates with that high and mighty tone, "if you sulk any harder and your expression will stick permanently to your face."

"Know from experience, do you?"

It doesn't bother to grace that with a response.

"What quandary plagues you so?"

"I'm doing a study buddy programme."

The knocker toots – literally, like a trumpet. "Hundreds of years I have guarded this tower, and never have I heard something so funny!"

"You could be more sympathetic."

"For the boy who thought it would be funny to tickle my nose with a feather when I was asleep? I think not!"

"I didn't think you had a nose!"

The door swings open then, and you step out. Prim, proper, picturesque. You startle at the sight of him.

"I thought we were to meet in the library."

"I was passing by, thought I'd come up and walk with you."

Suspicion flutters through your eyes. "Why?"

"What do you mean, why?"

"Why would you want to walk with me?"

He blinks. Is he being stupid, or has he missed something? "Er, because it's a nice thing to do, and if I have to waste six hours of my life on this mutual tutorship every week then I should at least get to know you better."

"I see."

Something not quite as strong as displeasure edges your voice, but you fall into step with him – not missing the way he makes a rude face at the knocker on the way downstairs.

"Look, I'll be honest," he begins, "I don't like this arrangement any more than you do, but I'm naturally pre-disposed to not taking anything too seriously, so even if we have to endure revision together, we can at least try to have a good time with it. Sound fair?"

You don't answer immediately. "What's the catch?"

"What? No catch. I just don't want to be totally glum each time I see you."

Something flashes across your expression, but it's too fleeting to identify it. "All right, that's... understandable."

"Great."

Conversation is stilted, however, even when you get to the library. You don't immediately warm to him, which is odd, because he's very used to people immediately falling for his magnanimous charms. You pull out your notebook – a timetable neatly journaled into the opening page – as he dumps out his parchment and quills.

"Since our sessions cover six hours per week," you say, "I thought we could work on your subjects for four of them, and then two hours on Potions for me."

"Right, fine." Sounds positively wretched. "My aunt's got Sharp's permission to use the potions laboratory this Friday, so I guess we can do it then."

"The potions laboratory?"

"Yeah. What? Did you think we could do Potions work without... potions?"

"Shouldn't we focus on the written portion?"

He frowns. "The written portion of the Potions O.W.L. is tiny. Like, miniscule. And boring."

You draw yourself up. "I don't find it boring. The essays are the best part."

Oh dear Merlin. "Well, sorry to disappoint you, but the majority of your Potions O.W.L. depends on actual potion-making." He grins. "Why? Scared, are you?"

"Why would I be scared?"

"You seem keen not to do it. Don't tell me you have some tragic backstory involving an exploding cauldron."

"No," you grind out. "I just... don't have a natural affinity for it like I do all my other subjects."

"That must've been really hard for you to accept."

He's teasing, but your face sours. Wow, you really are a tough crowd.

"Let's start. History of Magic."

This is one of those subjects he needs to know for his career choice – potioneers are expected to understand the history behind advancements in potion-making, after all – but Professor Binns makes it near-impossible to derive any sort of interest in the subject. The first topic of the year, the disbandment of the Wizards' Council in 1707, is already so dull Garreth can feel himself melting into the floor the moment the ghost opens his mouth.

"Now, I've already started the essay about the tumult of the Ministry of Magic's early years." You pull out a roll of parchment. "If we compare the key argument points—"

"Wait," he says, holding up his hand, "what do you mean, you've started the essay?"

"The essay that Binns set."

"You're doing N.E.W.T. level classes?"

"I'm doing N.E.W.T. level homework," you correct. "The professors assign it to me and I work on it with my regular homework."

"How do you have time to eat? Or sleep?"

You shrug. It's all so easy to you. You probably dream of your textbooks. It's so boggling.

"As I was saying," you continue, "we ought to start by comparing the points we've both made for the essay."

He just can't fathom it. Is there any point getting to know you when your spare time is dedicated to nothing but grades and studying? How can anyone be so academically good at (almost) everything, take on extra work, agree to tutor a frankly hopeless student... and still find time to enjoy other things?

"Right, yes, comparing essay points," he mumbles. "Sounds good."

Then again, he thinks, when neither of you move, and your eyes begin to narrow, you don't seem like the type of person to enjoy anything.

"You haven't started the essay yet, have you?"

"... Does a sphinx speak in riddles?"

You groan.

The first Potions session that Friday is a fun one – because now he gets to test you, watch you squirm and sweat. After the painful four hours together, scribbling theory for Divination and star charts for Astronomy, it's finally time to show what he can do. You're always so put together, so  he wants to see how bad you are, see what it is that justifies asking for his help in the first place.

Professor Sharp is waiting in the potions laboratory when you both arrive, seated at his desk marking homework.

Garreth grins. "All right, Professor?"

His expression curdles exponentially. "I trust I don't have to keep one eye on you for the entire two hours, Mr Weasley?"

"'Course not, sir. I'm only here to supervise my charge. In fact, you could say I'm the professor here."

"That doesn't fill me with much more confidence," Sharp mutters, then flicks his quill. "I've prepared the one on the left. Work quietly, please."

You seem nonplussed when Garreth steers you to the potions station. "Do you have a... reputation?"

"Don't know what you mean."

"You must do, by the professor's tone. You're a— miscreant."

"I'm a creative," he corrects. "Professor Sharp just doesn't appreciate my artistry."

"I can hear you, Mr Weasley."

"See? No appreciation whatsoever."

He gave you a list of ingredients to bring, and as he lights the fire beneath the cauldron, you sort them on the table – a bezoar in a mortar, mistletoe berries tied together with twine, Mooncalf tears in a phial. He notices you spend an inordinate amount of time placing them in neat, agreeable piles, rather than, you know, starting the actual potion-making, and he tucks this information away.

"Right, so, today I thought you could brew the antidote to common poisons."

"Antidote," you say stiffly. "Common poisons."

"That's what I said."

"Isn't that a third year subject?"

"It is." He smiles devilishly. "But we're going to do it with a twist."

Your brow furrows. "You're supposed to teach me relevant things, Garreth."

"You'll be lucky I'm not adding my own spin on it. No, just a simple improvement to up the ante. We're going make sure our potion can also act as an antidote to spider venom."

"Spider venom?" Your hand reaches for the textbook, but Garreth palms it away. "But— I need the recipe."

"You won't get the full recipe in your O.W.L. exams. You only get a list of ingredients and vague instructions. But it's better to learn by doing, and you will be expected to understand how the property of each ingredient affects the potion." He gestures. "Shall we begin?"

Your lips are flat as you fill the cauldron with standard potioning water – two pints of it, until it bubbles nicely over the flames. You know the first step by heart, which is to crush the bezoar into a fine powder and add four measures. Good start. With each of his thorough explanations, you fidget, uncomfortable.

"Why not just feed someone a bezoar? It works, doesn't it?"

"Why do we extract essence of dittany instead of just nibbling on the stem? Because combined with other ingredients the potion is more powerful. A bezoar wouldn't work against more virulent spider venom on its own, but it will in the potion we're brewing, because its healing properties are enhanced. Also, have you tried shoving that whole thing in your gob? Tastes rank."

"Wait," you say suddenly. "I need to write this down."

"The tastes rank part, or shoving in your gob part?"

You ignore him, grabbing your quill and scribbling furiously.

"Watch your cauldron. It's bubbling over."

You squeak, dropping the quill and stirring. A sheen of sweat coats your forehead, which is pretty hilarious. You've only just started.

"What's the next step?" he asks.

Your eyes skim the ingredients, frantic. "Erm... Mooncalf tears?"

"Try again." When you grimace, he says, "Begins with Stuh. Ends with andard ingredient."

You glare at him. "This doesn't make sense. Why add that now?"

"It's a stabilising agent. It emulsifies the ingredients together."

"Like eggs in a cake," you murmur, which surprises him. "But we've only added the bezoar to the water. What's there to stabilise?"

"Bezoars don't dissolve in water, and this will help the ingredients we add next."

He can see your frustration. Suddenly it makes sense why you hate Potions so much. You don't understand the science behind it – ironic, for someone who seems so methodical, and so proficient at other more technical subjects like Transfiguration. You pour the herbs into the brew, watching cautiously as the liquid thickens and changes colour from grimy brown to forest green, and notes of saltiness waft into the air.

"Good." The potion isn't looking too bad – maybe a little too green, but not unworkable. "Now, what next?"

"... Mooncalf tears?"

"Nope. You need to desaturate the brew."

"So turn up the heat?" He gives a firm nod. "For how long?"

"Well, you've added standard ingredient, which acts as a thickening agent already, and bezoar powder burns easily, even in water. Do you think much heat should be applied?"

"... Maybe?"

"Bet your examiner would love that answer."

You scowl. "Just tell me."

"Bring it to simmer," he instructs. "But only for a few minutes. For the aforementioned reasons."

After you write this down, you nudge another piece of wood into the fire pit below, then adjust the knob for heat. After a few moments, the bubbles pop ferociously on the surface. He watches you watching it, transfixed, eyebrows sloping in intense concentration. It's clear you desperately want this to work – but something holds you back, whether it's just disinterest in the subject or not. You lower the heat after three minutes, leaning back.

"Now do we add the Mooncalf tears?"

He laughs. "Merlin's beard, you're desperate to get those tears in. No, now you wave your wand and let it stew. Do you know for how long?"

"I remember this," you say. "It was about thirty minutes."

"Are you sure?"

"Well now I'm not."

His grin only grows. "What type of cauldron are you using?"

"Pewter."

"How will that affect the time?"

"Isn't pewter less conducive of magical properties than the others, and therefore makes brewing time slower?"

"I don't know. Is it?"

"Garreth."

"Yes, you're right," he says. "You're a right laugh, you know."

"You're not," you remark tersely. "So it stews for more time then?"

"Probably about forty-five minutes, though I reckon with how you bunged all the standard ingredient in, it'll probably need a few minutes more. We'll eyeball it."

You squeak. "We can't— eyeball it!"

"'Course we can. When it's reduced enough, we'll take it off the heat."

Still, it's about a fifty-minute wait, and unfortunately you decide to get him back for all the fun he's having by asking how his History of Magic essay is going (... it's not). Even Professor Sharp laughs when he stumps at the first bullet point.

When the fifty minutes slog by (and they do slog – probably because Garreth dies a little with each legislative policy he has to know by name), you check the potion again. The water has boiled down to a gooey liquid, half the size it was before, and the colour has deepened.

"Now you have ground unicorn horn to add. This is where it gets interesting." His voice dances with glee, but you look like you'd rather get punched in the face. "The recipe for the regular antidote calls for a pinch of unicorn horn, then two clockwise stirs. But to work against a more potent poison like spider venom, you need at least two pinches, and double the number of stirs, to let everything combine."

You hunch over your unicorn horn powder. "Are you sure this isn't one of your creative exploits?"

"Hand on heart, this is all by-the-book," he says, then calls out, "In fact, I should really get some house points for it!"

"Don't hold your breath," Sharp calls back.

Garreth winks at you. "Worth a try, right?"

Your brow drops in exasperation.

Still, you follow his next instructions carefully. Two pinches of unicorn horn powder, then four stirs of the cauldron, and it hisses and pops as the powder melts into the solution. Finally you add two mistletoe berries, careful to keep the toxic leaves away, and wave your wand to finish. It's as expected – not bad for someone who claims to struggle at the subject, though he had to coach you through most of it.

"So... how do we know if the potion works?"

"Funny you should ask." Garreth reaches for his bag. "I have a spider I keep in a jar—"

You scrabble away at once. "What?" you shriek – it's the first explosive emotion he's seen from you. "No, no, no—"

"Merlin, that was a joke! 'Course I don't have a spider in my bag!"

Your shoulders drop. Your expression storms.

"Not. Funny."

But he giggles. "Come on. That was kind of funny."

"You really are a miscreant."

"Not a fan of spiders, are you?"

"They're detestable." You shudder, crossing your arms. "I don't know how anyone can stand the creatures."

"I think they're kind of cute. You know, in an ugly sort of way."

You step back to the station, gesturing with your chin to the potion again. "So? How do you know if we succeeded?"

"Colour, consistency, smell. Is it teal? Yes. Is it thick, and the bottom of the cauldron is only visible when you scrape it with a spoon? Yes. Does it smell like Graphorn dung?" He sniffs. Winces. "Oh yeah."

"How do you know what Graphorn dung smells like?"

"You don't want to know." (It involved Everett, naturally.) "So, with all those factors, we can safely say the potion was a resounding success. Huzzah!"

Yet you don't seem particularly pleased. He's not sure why, given that his aunt implied you were so poor at the subject even a mediocre brew was unthinkable. But maybe your bar to success is much higher than his. He helped you a lot, after all – maybe you'll only consider these tutoring sessions a win if you manage to brew an entire potion by yourself, without his ogling over your shoulder. Without someone literally telling you what to do.

And if that's what you want, okay. He's happy to help. The quicker you pick up these potions lessons, the quicker he is freed of your prickly company.

"Wait," you say suddenly, "what were the Mooncalf tears for?"

"Oh, those?" He chuckles. "They're not for anything. They're just to bamboozle you."

Your glare is potent enough to set him on fire.

"I am trying to learn here, and you fooling around is not helping."

"Who says this isn't helping? You'll never forget Mooncalf tears aren't in the antidote now, will you?"

"But— that's—!" You let out a groan. "You're being insufferable."

He just laughs harder. "You're so prim, it's hilarious."

"If wanting to learn things the proper way makes me prim, so be it."

"The proper way? Oh ho ho, no. There's no proper way."

"Written study is the proper way."

He leans on the potions station, grinning villainously. "Then I'll prove to you that it's not all about textbooks and words on a page. You're going to learn so hard you won't know what hit you. You'll see."

Your raise your chin, derision clear.

"Very well then, Garreth."

"All righty then, Prim."

He sees how it digs. "What? Don't— don't call me that!"

"Only calling you what you are, Prim."

When the session ends, he agrees to start that essay – or at least think about starting it – and you agree to review your notes for the antidote, but no matter how many times you remind him of your real name, he teases you with the moniker until you part ways. Unfortunately for you, insufferable doesn't quite have the same ring to it, and you wouldn't dare deign to his level of immaturity.

So at the end of the first week, you still call him Garreth.

And he calls you Prim.

[NEXT] [Divider credit, gorgeous art by Lyworth]

[ashs-nerd-den]

Studyblr prompt Week 1 - My Study space

I usually study either my desk or by bed, but nobody is seeing my bed on here, and I did up my desk at the start of the summer to make it ADHD friendly, which I have been dying to show off, so this is the perfect opportunity to do so.

The peg board is not only aesthetically pleasing, it is an ADHD saviour. The clear storage means that I can actually see stuff so that way I dont forget that they exist. The pretty notebooks add the aesthetic which draws me in to study and makes it seem more appealing to my brain.

The temporary dumping box is where I throw things when I don't have the energy to put them away because it prevents mess and when I do have the energy, I don't have to pick everything up around the room because they're all in 1 spot.

A lot of people put up pictures of their goals, like their dream university, or the exam results that they want. I put up pictures of my grandparents (that's what's behind the hearts). If I turn out even 1% as amazing as any of them, I will die happy, because they are the most incredible people ever. I'm considering shuffling things around a bit so I can put up a picture of one of my aunties because she is beyond amazing and she is currently doing her masters in psychology (the field I want to go into) while raising her kids and being a carer. I don't use Pinterest for inspiration, my family is more than inspirational enough for me. I could go on for hours about how extraordinary each of them are, but I'll save yous the time.

The water bottle hole was probably for a pen holder, but neither of my pen mugs fit and it gives me a designated place to put my drink so that I don't forget about it, which is good because last time I checked humans need water and not just lucozade and coffee.

There are even more highlighters in the drawer because they are one of my special interests and I love them (I have more in my school pencil case and a full pencil case of highlighters)

Everything is visible with no covering or lids because I will forget that they exist. Adhd object impermance is a BIG thing in my house, and when I say big, I mean it.

The tumb tacs and paper clips are once again part of a stationary special interest that I have had since I was around 8

The different shaped sticky strips and sticky speech bubbles are for annotating things in a way that gets my brain to actually want to look at it. You might be recognising a recurring theme here. If it isn't right infront of me and looks fun, my brain doesn't cooperate.

The day planner is because I want to try to work out a way to do bullet journaling that works for ADHD. Like the way that it was originally created for. But all of the resources are aimed at neurotypicals and nobody can find resources on how to us it for ADHD anymore, even though that was the whole purpose of them (this is not hate towards any neurotypicals that use them, this is hatred of the fact that so many of our resources get shared to neurotypicals and then we lose access to them)

This was longer and more rambly than intended, but I'm both mentally and physically exhausted so I'll probably edit this tomorrow because once it goes into the drafts, it never comes out.

[studywithmith]

Introduction

Heya it’s mith! This is a nickname from my original name. I am Tamil and I’m from the state of Tamilnadu from south India :)

This is a study or/blog about my life as a CBSE student where I’ll post about motivation, any interesting topics and just tips that I found useful. I am planning on posting my 11th chemistry notes by the end of this year, once I’ve finished typing them up as I’ve hand written them! So you will see resources being posted!!

I am a high-school student, 17 years old ( year 11/ 11th grade )studying in the science stream. My subjects include —

Physics.

Chemistry.

Mathematics.

Computer Science (python)

English

Why a studyblr?

I opened this studyblr in order to stay productive and help others to do so too if I can. Also through this account I would like to share bits of my student life and motivate other students to do what a student should do like - study and enjoy life. I will post a lot about how to get motivation and how I study certain subjects and these posts will update as I go along!

Any competitive exams?

I am doing four exams ( sobs) which are for design and architecture respectively. These are NATA, JEE paper 2 ( this includes, maths, drawing and aptitude , not physics chemistry and maths ) , UCEED ( design) and NIFT ( design)

Future career?

I am hoping to study design or architecture and maybe get a literature or business degree as a side goal.

Any goals for 2025?

I wanna learn foreign languages such as Italian since it’s my current obsession. I’ve already learnt a bit of French so I’m planning on learning all of the Romance languages, so you will see me post about language learning too!!

More about me:

I was born in England and I’ve lived in India and England on and off, every few years I’d shift to England and then come back to India. I did my boards (10th) in the uk in the form of GCSEs. GCSEs are usually done in 10th and 11th so I’m repeating a year again in India so it’s easier for me for my 12th boards!

For Quick Navigation:

study blogging!

Tagged as #studydaily- it's where I post about my daily study logs.

study_plans!

Tagged as #study plans - it's in the name lol. It's where I post about what I'm gonna do to keep myself disciplined.

motivation!

Tagged as #motivation - to keep myself and you motivated! :)

litblr!

Tagged as #litblr - for literature and any other interesting topics

questions!

Tagged as #questions - just some questions lol!

know me!

Tagged as #know me — it's in the name :p

NATA and JEE2 help

Tagged as #NATAandJEE2 - where I post about the architecture exams and general tips and resources

UCEED and NIFT help

Tagged as #UCEEDandNIFT - where I post about the design exams and general tips and resources

Language learning!

Tagged as #languageblr - I post about my progress in learning languages, this will be separate to my daily logs so i won’t post whatever I learnt in languages in my daily logs. I might create a separate account for langauges alone!!

Tips

Tagged as #chemtips, #mathtips, #phytips, #Cstips and #engtips - these tags are specifically for tips that I’d found useful sharing in that particular subject! You can also use the tag #tips to find all the tips and tricks in one go!

Notes!

Tagged as #notetaking- as I have said earlier, I am planning on posting my chemistry notes by the end of December once I’ve finished typing them up and making them colourful to read. This will be free Ofc, and it does follow the ncert pattern.

Well nice meeting you, maybe drop a comment so that I can know you too?

( note: the template for this introduction was heavily inspired by another blogger! pxasee , do check her account out too!!)

I'm hoping for the best to happen and also working for it!! <3 Show some support please for this account and have a great day/ night!!

[bodhranwriting]

Finn and the Arsonist by Bodh M.

In three years of running the only cat sanctuary in Middle Besser, I’ve heard a lot of their odd tales about how they ended up here.

Getting into fights is a common one. Getting trapped in wells happens more often that you’d think. Inattentive families, owners needing the space… the list goes on. I try not to judge people’s situations too harshly. After all, my main witness is going to be a little biased and cat-senses don’t always translate well to human, as you’d expect. But there are definitely pickups I’ve done that have made my blood boil, if you don’t mind me saying.

But I’ve never had one before that made me scared and certainly never had one involving one of my closest friends.

It was a stinking hot day in the middle of summer when a small child barged open the door to the Respite with a terrified cat yowling at a pitch to match the temple bells.

I had been dozing at the counter, sweat sticking my sandy curls to my forehead and a new bandage wrapped around my arm – one kitten had not wanted to take her medicine – so I damn well fell out of my chair as a screaming feline was dumped a fingerbreadth from my face.

“I found them in Gert’s Alley,” the girl said helpfully, in lieu of greeting. She was probably nine or ten; a scruffy little thing in a faded blue dress with adorable tight black coils and a missing tooth so her next words came out as a lisp, “He theemed thercared. Look at all the blood!”

Dragging myself up from floor and trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes, I blearily focused on my newest patient. She (and definitely she, I noted as she wriggled out of the blanket) was a gorgeous black Kysi with golden eyes and the huge ears typical to her breed. As she backed up, hissing, I reached out a hand and concentrated, drawing up warm reserves of the little magic I had from my chest and into my throat.

Translation spells, in my experience anyway, always had a taste. I’d never been particularly good at them: it was almost easier to just do the hard work and learn the language. But translating my tongue to that of cats was like clicking your fingers might be to someone else. Easy. Not requiring much thought at all.

Cat tastes like buttermilk. I don’t know why, but there seems to be a connection to what I taste and what I’m trying to speak. Bee tastes, almost boringly, of honey. Spider has a dusty texture. Rat, for some odd reason, is hazelnut. I haven’t worked out that one and neither had the teachers out in the Hartland’s. I think one of my classmates who fell into the academic trap – track, sorry – is compiling research on it.

(I answered her very impersonal letter a few months ago and never heard back. Hope I helped. She did bully me into passing my star-reading exam, after all.)

I took a breath, the flavour rising into my nose, and attempted first contact. “Easy there… I’m not gonna hurt you… what’s your name…?”

The cat hissed again, but only for show because she answered quickly, “Smells-like-this. But upright call me Smoke.”

“I’m Finn,” I said, almost more for the benefit of the still-watching urchin. I projected an imitation of my scent into her mind: a kind of mix of cat fur, woodsmoke, and lye soap, and asked, “May I touch you? I need to find where you’re bleeding.”

Smoke hesitated and then lay down. “Yes.”

Carefully, I reached forwards, letting her sniff my hand. “Could you get me a bucket from the pump?” I asked the girl.

She nodded with great dignity and vanished outside. I turned my attention back to Smoke. It was funny: she was far better fed than a stray ought to be –

“Know your smell, upright.”

I jumped. Swallowing hard, I managed to keep the connection strong enough to ask, “You… do?”

Smoke curled up under my hand. “It was on take-off furs. And blood not mine.”

Ice settled in my stomach, cold fingers squeezing my guts paper-thin. “Whose is it…?”

Her tail thrashed, ears flattening against her head. “My upright.” The flash of fangs made me jerk my hand away. I was panting and I didn’t know why.

“What happened?”

Smoke sat up again, fixing shining golden eyes on me. She raised her head like a queen, crossing one paw in front of the other.

“Uprights invade territory. Smash door. I fight. Upright feeder does too. I run when they lay red flower.”

“Red flow…” Suddenly, the buttermilk soured to smoke and ash as my mind made the necessary translation. Terror thumped through my chest. “They burnt the house?”

I grabbed the cat by the scruff of the neck as she bolted from my shout. She tried to claw at me, but I didn’t even feel it. “What does your upright look like, Smoke?”

“Put down!”

“Please, tell me. What do they look like?”

“Upright! Smell like this! Not white-yellow fur like you. White-orange fur! Cloud eye! Make pretty noise a lot!” She meowed as I dropped her, landing perfectly on the table as I fell into my chair.

“Gert’s Alley… that’s where you were found?”

Smoke leapt to the ground and gave me the feline equivalent of a shrug.

I was up and running down the street before I even realised I’d processed the information.

[birdyverdie]

Hiya! Just wanted to drop by and say hi and thanks for reaching out and saying hi on my silly little post about talking about DD :,)

I love seeing all the Paracelsus enjoyers, she is the best shrimp posture doctor. <3 Do you have any personal favourite/niche headcanons for her?

Also good luck with your exams! Are you studying medicine/biomedicine? (I did a few classes a few years ago, and kudos -- it's so much material, especially the anatomy classes.) Do you have a favourite class? :o

Hi hi! :D! I put the personal stuff under a read more because by GOD can I ramble </3

Of course! I always like saying hi to people I see in the Darkest Dungeon tag! I think your art is SO lovely too!! I adore the way you draw Dismas and Reynauld!! They're so shapely in your style <3 pair that up with a Bloodborne crossover?? you're spoiling us fans fr!!

I'm a Para enjoyer first and foremost because I relate with the thirst for random medical knowledge that Para has, and also her bird motif!! (She's bird-like in my heart and soul. And I'm a bird enjoyer <3)

I have a few stray headcanons for her, mostly everything is about her scope of practice because that's where my thought process tends to stray when I study. We know that she's named after the father of toxicology, so most of her study goes into figuring out external agents effects on the human body. Though, I like to imagine her to have side interest in hematology as well! Mixing blood with a bunch of other agents seems like something she would be interested at least. (Perhaps that's how she finds out about blood types...*cough* I've been thinking about writing a Paracelsus fic about this for literal months *cough*)

This is a personal thing of mine, but I refuse to believe that Paracelsus actually believed in Humorism. I mean, the first iteration of it was basically a glorified personality test, nay horoscopes! (Yes I know that knowledge was limited back then, but alas, I'd like to imagine her scope is more experimental than observational.)

So instead I headcanon her to--if not the progenitor of Germ Theory--then at least a constituent of it. I think she and Louis Pasteur would have really fun conversations about it.

Another stray headcanon I have is that she receives the equivalent of a newspaper subscription from historical medical practitioners/researchers. So her daily newspaper could be about Edward Jenner's vaccine studies or Ferdinand Cohn's endospores. I don't care that the two of them existed 100 years apart, if we can have a 7th century BC Roman Vestal and a 14th century Plague Doctor in the same room then I can have Edward Jenner and Andrew Wakefield ("vaccines cause autism" guy) duking it out in scientific papers that Paracelsus reads like a WWE match.

Thank you for the luck fellow science enjoyer! Are you also studying medicine :0!?

Thankfully, my exam period is finally over, so I'm taking it easy with recuperating with the post-exam burnout :P And I'm a health major with a nutrition minor, but with a program path towards perfusion! My far-future end goal is to become a surgeon, but due to life circumstances I'll have to settle for perfusion for the time being :P Which I don't mind at all! I think it's such an interesting field, and a hidden hero for many cardiac surgeries! I also really like learning about the circulatory system so I think it's a little perfect ehehe :D!

My favorite class is currently Anatomy & Physiology, I have a really good professor this year, but my god It's actually a lot more complex than I thought it was gonna be while walking in. I genuinely thought it was mostly memorizing like...the bones of the skeleton and perhaps the muscles or something like that. Nahhh it takes a lot of micrology concepts too ;; Which I don't mind! But some days I'm staring at some topics like the neuromuscular junction and wishing I never knew what acetylcholine was. Though some days I do wish to return to Medical Terminology, that class was what I imagined: simple.

Thank you so much for this ask!! It was lovely talking about it!!

[sondersonne-art]

LAST MINUTE SECRET SANTA JOURNALS GO!

Thistle of Auspice, Chosen of the House of Battles.

There isn't very much to Thistle. He's quiet, keeps mostly to himself, and lives in an estate that would be modest by Creation's standards. His coworkers can't get a read on him- he doesn't socialize and converses only with his mentor, and recently, the members of his task force. One can only speculate about the trauma he's endured, or the deep secrets he holds within himself, locked behind that stone countenance.

In reality, Thistle still sees himself as a mortal soldier, plucked bewildered from his scavenger lands warrior culture and placed in the machinations of the bureau. He isn't sure what he wants, he isn't sure what he believes, and he still hasn't caught up to the unworldly splendor of Heaven. He also, pointedly, has not fully learned to read, and his mentor does all of his paperwork.

As an agent, however, his skill is impeccable. Wielding his personal-loan artifact Shrike's Favored Thorn, a starmetal direlance that circumvents causality to deliver decisive action on the battlefield, Thistle enjoys the thrill of combat. Fighting other Exalts is one of the only things that still gives him a sense of familiarity, and living a soldiers life is one of the only times he truly lives in earnest.

He wears dark crimson clothing and mismatched plate-and-chain armor with a stained gambeson beneath. His hair is kept in a light brown bob with utilitarian bangs. While he uses he pronouns, he maintains a femininity with his appearance, and asserts a neutral gender to his peers.

--

Brown Hair in a bob.

Red gambeson.

Any armor you like- it varies a lot!

Somewhere on the outfit, a red symbol of Mars, hand-painted.

Very socially awkward and casually stoic to a fault.

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

EDIT: Also my alt option because I forgot!

Tepet Vimah, Air Dragon and aspiring Battlemage.

The only sorcerer across all seven years of the House of Bells, the only Tepet scion in the sixth year, and a flat affect that makes socialization... difficult. Vimah is an outcaste for one or all of these reasons, depending on who you ask.

From summoning demons in the school bathrooms, changing the weather during field exercises, or providing sorcerous alterations to her classmate's essence flow, Vimah's outward goal is to prove the value of strange, taboo means to strengthen the realm. Now that her House stands ready to fall, her mission has become all the more grand, as she believes that she ignite her family's reputation anew. With a storm in her gaze, she casts her eyes at Thorns- her dream is to see it retaken from the front lines.

Vimah is always surrounded by crackling lightning- actively channeling her essence into idle thought, keeping her mind at peak efficiency. When not passive, she's firing bolts of lightning at foes during field exams, conducted by the iron pins she throws like darts.

She usually wears a simple wrapped top, belted at the waist, with a chestwrap underneath; baggy pants tucked into heeled boots; and wrapped, insulated fingerless gloves. Her hair is kept in bangs, with two locks hanging in front of her long, pointed ears.

--

Black Hair, big pointy ears, bright blue eyes.

Simple, utilitarian clothes.

Lightning in her irises or around her body.

Her anima manifests like piñata paper folding away from her skin, billowing off like flower petals.

Perpetual ':I' expression- sometimes '>:I' as a treat.

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

I encourage a little bit of freeform interpretation- if you have a good idea for something to draw, or an aesthetic sensibility to impose, please do~!

[deconstructthesoup]

The Hexsquad + Vee in different D20 seasons:

This was an idea I came up with in my brain. If I could draw it, I would, but I can't, so... settle for this massive fucking block of text. Have fun.

Fantasy High

Luz: A human wizard (Evocation) whose life goal is to be the greatest adventurer the world has ever seen, and that all starts with Aguefort Adventuring Academy. She was always considered the "weird kid" in middle school, but she's confident that she'll find her people at Aguefort, and she's ready to take the school by storm... or, at least, find some friends who she can connect with. Luz is definitely the type of person to get her magic-studying done ahead of time, so she's a little bit ahead a lot of her classmates---mostly due to the fact that she keeps on trying the more complicated spells instead of starting with the basics.

Vee: Luz's adopted sister and a changeling sorcerer (Aberrant Mind). She's less keen on the whole "adventuring" thing, preferring a more mundane life, but she and Luz are thick as thieves, and she knows that her sister is definitely still going to get bullied at Aguefort---better to be there so she can have her back. Vee doesn't really remember a lot of her life from before she got adopted by the Nocedas, though she does know that something happened in those lost years that gave her the powers of the Far Realm... powers that she still can't quite control.

Willow: A dwarven druid (Circle of Spores) and barbarian (Battlerager). She's a case study in what happens when the shy, awkward girl from middle school discovers roller derby over the summer and transforms into a confident, punk-rock powerhouse... who still has some of those old insecurities lingering underneath the surface. Not to mention, pretty explosive anger issues. Willow is more than ready to form a kickass adventuring party on top of starting a roller derby team at Aguefort, but so far, she's only got one member...

Gus: A halfling rogue (Arcane Trickster) who skipped two grades due to being a quote-unquote "prodigy," which is a nice way of saying that he's struggling with severe gifted kid syndrome. He and Willow have been best friends for years, to the point where ending up at Aguefort is kind of the best thing that happened to him, even though he's still pretty insecure about his rogue abilities. Since he's younger than almost everyone else, Gus doesn't have a lot of friends to start outside of Willow... so, of course, the best course of action is to join literally every extracurricular. Despite already having a packed schedule. Yeah, he's overworking himself.

Amity: A high elf artificer (Battlesmith) who's built up a reputation as a top student at Hudol---a reputation that, according to her mother, she's completely throwing away by not only choosing to be an artificer instead of a wizard, but purposefully failing the Hudol entrance exam so she could go to Aguefort Adventuring Academy instead. Amity's really just learning how to be rebellious, so she's taking small steps---different academic path, exploring her own passions, dyeing her hair a different color---before she can hopefully build up enough disrespect for authority that she can move out, or at least help her dad work up the courage to ask for divorce papers. She's trying.

Hunter: A tiefling bard (College of Valor) who, like Fig, has only recently discovered that he's a tiefling. Rather than going straight to the rebellious route, though, he's kind of at a loss as to what to do, to the point where he even drops being a paladin in favor of being a bard---though, of course, still within the standard-hero vein. He's been raised by his uncle his whole life, and while their relationship has been pretty positive up until now, it's become fairly strained due to Belos never telling Hunter that his mom was a devil ("I don't give a fuck about safety, Uncle B, the fact that I am literally a spawn of hell is something that I should know"). But he's got an outlet. He's learning guitar and some bard spells.

A Starstruck Odyssey

Captain Luz Noceda: The Amercadian girl who always dreamed of becoming a spacer, she's now the captain of her very own ship, The Selkie, at the age of twenty-six... and she's struggling. Sure, she's joined every union she can, got all the insurance, and has really been trying to keep the ship on the up-and-up, but every time she takes a risk and goes for a more dangerous job, things fail drastically. Luz loves her crew and her ship, and she really doesn't want to give any of it up, but she can't ignore the little voice in her head that's telling her that she might not be as cut out for the spacing life as she originally believed. As luck would have it, though, her new hire has some excellent skills up her sleeve...

Amity Blight-Deamonne: The youngest daughter of renowned inventor Alador Blight and high-society fashion designer Darius Deamonne, Amity's got money, mechanical skills, and a sense of style that's the envy of every femme in the galaxy. She was apprenticing under both of her fathers at the same time, but after hearing that her older siblings had apparently made quite a life for themselves as spacers, she decided that there was no way she was going to miss out on the fun and joined Luz's crew as a mechanic and a "crew diplomat." Of course, Amity isn't the most prepared for the combat that they wind up in more often than not, but she is prepared to do some handy repairs and a lot of smooth talking when necessary. Which is almost all the time. (Also, she lost a leg and an arm in a childhood accident, but her family could afford to have her get fitted for cybernetic replacements without going into massive debt. This has caused her to be a major advocate for cyborg rights.)

Deep-Sea Volcano Eroded By Time, human name "Vee": An Aguatunisian who set off on her Galivant several years ago, she's been exposed to how dishonest, selfish, and uncaring the world outside her home planet can be, which has led her to becoming quite the nervous wreck. True cynicism is something that's pretty much impossible for Vee to really achieve, due to being a psychic being who can tell when people are lying and being fortunate enough to land among folks who are pretty open with each other, but she's still wary of new people until she gets a chance to communicate. Because of this, being the comms officer was the perfect choice, and Vee's pretty comfortable on The Selkie. Still doesn't stop her from going into a panic attack every time the crew gets into combat, though.

Gus Porter (soon-to-be Dr. Porter): Youngest of the crew, Gus is a medical grad student who's interning on the ship for his thesis project---which basically translates to him being the ship's doctor. On paper, he doesn't mind doing the medical stuff, since his entire thesis is on how spacers can maintain a healthy lifestyle while in a fairly dangerous occupation, but more than half the time, he's stuck doing emergency surgery and trying his damnedest not to remind everyone that he's studying to be a doctor, not a surgeon. Despite everything, Gus is absolutely enamored with the spacing life, and he's probably gonna stay on The Selkie well after he finishes his degree.

Wondrous Willow: The beta version of a battle droid that eventually got remade and rebranded as an assistant, Willow has long since given up attempting to fulfill that function and has fully embraced herself as part of the crew of The Selkie. She's a gunner, a heavy-hitter, an extremely loyal friend, and is surprisingly good at cooking---all of which makes her a crew favorite. Of course, despite technically fulfilling what she was designed for, she's still trying to find herself beyond just claiming agency, and it's slow-going for our girl. But she's not called "Wondrous Willow" for nothing, and if there's anything she knows, it's how to tough it out in this galaxy.

Hunter "Lucky Number" Seven: A supersoldier clone turned rugged mercenary, Hunter was designed to save people with smarts as well as brawn, as part of the renowned Hunters For Hire. He and his fellow clones were incredibly adept heroes who helped out anyone in AnarchEra that were in need... until a mysterious individual slaughtered almost all of them, with Hunter Seven being the only one to escape. Currently, he believes that the culprit is his now-slain creator's brother, the elusive and infamous mad scientist known as Dr. Philip B. Wittebane, but that may be a red herring, and the real killer could still be out there. For now, Hunter's found a new squad in the crew of the Selkie, a sister figure in Luz, and a girlfriend in his fellow gunner---and until he gets his revenge on, he's happy for now.

A Court of Fey and Flowers

Luz & Vee: The "twin" daughters of Trickster Court nobility, the two are a rare example of a human and a changeling who decide to remain in the Feywild rather than the Material Plane. While Vee fits in seamlessly in a court of shifters, pranksters, and folks who enjoy nothing more than mischief, Luz stands out in fey society due to her magic not coming naturally and the simple fact that she is a human---despite her parents having blessed her with an unusually long life. As such, she's in the rare position of being more nervous than her sister from the prospect of attending the Bloom, but while Vee has no other intentions than to just have a good time with members of other courts, Luz dreams of potentially finding a match at what some call the most romantic occasion the Feywild has to offer. Though it's uncommon for a fey to fall for a human, maybe Lady Luck is on her side...

Amity: She and her family are all that remains of the Court of Craft, and her father Darius disappeared some time ago. Having only recently come to the conclusion that his husband is dead, her other father, Alador, has agreed to form a marriage alliance with the lady Odalia of the Court of Wonder, something that Amity knows will destroy their court---and she believes wholeheartedly that Darius is still alive. She's at the Bloom for the sole purpose of finding out how to save her court and her father, and romance is the furthest thing from her mind... until she meets a kindhearted individual from the Trickster Court, who seems to not care about the pressures and expectations of fey society. And more than that, she wants to aid her in her cause.

Willow: The niece of Queen Titania and a duchess of the Seelie Court, Willow has attended many a Bloom, and she's used to the whole song-and-dance routine by now. However, her aunt has advised her that this year, the Bloom will be quite a different affair, and it would be in the Seelie Court's best interest for Willow to try and find a political match by the end of the celebration. Of course, Willow's a very free-spirited individual and is adamant about marrying only for love, so she's really just looking for a way to prove to her aunt that she's quite capable of being a high-society woman on her own... until she meets a certain individual.

Hunter: Heir to the Unseelie Court, Prince Hunter is attempting to put his past of just being the nerdy teen who talks about his interest to anyone who'll listen behind him, and in doing so, goes full Mr. Darcy---closed-off, socially awkward, and barely capable of making actual conversation. He fully intended to just spend the Bloom waiting for it to end so he doesn't have to keep on being "a shining example of the values of the Unseelie Court," but on his very first day, he meets the wisecracking and whip-smart Willow, and develops a big ol' crush on her almost instantly... though it takes him a while to figure out how to word it, because, y'know, zero social skills.

Gus: Pretty much the only person who's here for the social drama rather than the romance, Gus is an up-and-coming diplomat of the Goblin Court who's writing a book on the intricately woven fey society---he's intending it to be an anthropological study, but it's slowly starting to become a tell-all expose. Because of this, Gus always has his ear to the ground when it comes to secrets, and it's very rare for anyone to be able to tell him a successful lie... so, needless to say, when he catches wind of Amity's plan, he is one hundred percent on board. (Also, he and Vee become friends almost immediately. Chaos recognizes chaos.)

[alpydk]

22 and 24 :)

22. say 3 things about someone you love.

So going to go with my kid.

Love how curious they can be at times, just off the wall weird, how they listen to the dumb shit I say and add on to it with their own.

"Mummy, what is a ship?" "Like a boat?" "Nooooo, like in games. When people say they want to ship them," "Oh... *me thinking over the smut* um, when people say they want to people to be in a relationSHIP." "Like Naoto and Kanji in Persona 4." "Exactly like that." *Long pause.* "TRIAL OF THE DRAGOOONNNN!"

(A repeat of a conversation last night.)

I like how they love animals and are so great with them. They have autism, so people and friends are more tricky, but they're the most accepting person ever of anyone, really. But when with animals, they're a whole new person entirely, patient, caring, like the animals just get it all. It's amazing to see.

Lastly... That they simply exist. We went through a lot of hell for them. They're a miracle.

24.what’s one thing you’re proud of yourself for?

I was thinking about this the other day and I'm going to go with the art portion of my degree. We had to do this entire display of our work and explain the theme and how we would go about teaching it to a class and I chose "World within worlds."

Now, as you have all seen, I'm not good at art. I was in a class with people who'd been drawing for years and I took this module simply so I didn't have to write huge essays whilst writing my final paper. I fought with the professor over pop art and I fought with her over collages, and I fought over...well everything, but every time I'd go home and think over what we were doing and I'd twist it so I understood it, and she let me. Honestly, an amazing, AMAZING person!

I ended up getting my final paper written earlier and throwing more energy into the art project than anyone expected. After a module of arguing over art processes, art analysis and everything else with my professor, I showed up with this representative of me, basically. I got a very high grade for it and the feedback I got was, "You took everything from the class and made it your own in some way. You've earned this grade and I'm proud of you." I cried, not over my final exam, not over all the stress or pressure or anything else I'd been going through. No, I cried because she saw me and was proud of me. How pathetic is that???

Now, anyway, because I am proud, here is some stuff I did for it.

A stop motion video was one aspect I put a lot of energy into. Featuring my 30+ year old bear Nelson.

Black out poetry, including a large book I made where I took one of the very long academic texts we read, made it into a fantasy novel using blackout, and explained that papers like that were destroying creativity.

And the dinosaur... We'd been given an assignment to take a piece of real art and make it into our own. The professor did not approve of me adding Godzilla and a volcano to a Tate Modern piece, so I went away and made a dinosaur out of Tate Modern... You can see how difficult a student I was.

Right! Enough sappy stuff now! Destroying my angst vibes!

[the-ellia-west]

TW for abuse, death, minor gore

His mother never went too far. Sure, she often left him on the floor, covered in bruises and red marks, but it’s nothing that wouldn’t heal.

Sure, sometimes there was blood but that was easily remedied with a bandage or a plaster. Nothing that would last.

Recently she had been getting angrier and a lot rougher. She nearly stabbed him the other day. Emphasis on nearly.

Kris questioned why he even stayed. He feared for his life every other night, nearly tearing his hair out in paranoia most of the time. His friend lived nearby, he could run and stay there.

But what about his sister? What about school and his grades?

On the nights he did try, he found himself frozen with indecision, his hand hovering over his bag and phone. He couldn’t run, that was bad. He would get caught and punished. No, he would stay. For his sister and his school.

Oh, how he regretted that.

One night he had done something bad. He got a C on a Math’s exam, but in his defense, he was already busy with the emotional blackmail from his teachers and his mother’s increasing levels of violence at home. He felt so guilty about the grade and tried to hide it. But she found out. She always did.

“What. The fuck. Is this.” She demanded, holding up the paper.

“…”

“Aarna Hoffmann.”

He winced at the use of his deadname.

“My mathematics test.”

“Why is there a C on here?”

“…I didn’t do well.”

“You studied, didn’t you?”

“…Yes.”

“See, this is why I didn’t want you having any friends! First you come with the “I’m not a girl” bullshit because you’re trying to “fit in” and be “special”, and now you’re failing your tests because your too focused on your social life!” She screamed, her voice raising in crescendo and pitch. Kris instinctively covered his ears and felt her hands grabbing his wrists and harshly yanking them down.

“Oh, you don’t like loud noises now?!” She yelled, “Well too bad!”

She got extremely close to his ear and started yelling shrilly.

“You utter failure! I bet you weren’t even studying; you were too busy with your fucking stories and drawings to do anything worthwhile! You bitch, you need to realize that you’re jeopardizing your future!”

Kris stumbled back, tripping over a mat and hitting his back.

“Oh, OH?! You’re scared of me now?! I’ll show you scared!” She grabbed a fistful of his hair, tossing him onto the floor. She then roughly yanked him up, grabbing the collar of his shirt and throwing him against the sink. His head made a horrible hollow thunk, and Kris fell to the floor, face down.

“Get up.”

He stayed down. A pool of blood started to form underneath his head.

“Aarna…?” She ventured hesitantly, approaching his body. The pool of blood had grown. She turned him around, and suddenly scrambled back.

His eyes were lifeless, and his forehead was smashed in. Blood trickled down and his mouth was agape.

Mrs. Hoffmann felt bile rise in her throat. Her child… her child was dead. Because of her.

Mr. Hoffmann burst into the bathroom, before stopping in shock and staring at the lifeless body that used to be his child.

“Oh… Rishi… what did you do?”

The car ran smoothly along the winding empty roads. Mrs. Hoffmann was sitting in the passenger side, somberly staring out of the window, still in complete shock. Mr. Hoffmann had been eerily calm, driving along in complete silence. He kept the same neutral expression when hauling Kris’s body into the car. The body, wrapped in a white sheet, was laying in the backseat, kept in place by seatbelts. The top of the sheet had been stained red, and you could see the faint outline of Kris.

Mr. and Mrs. Hoffmann couldn’t say anything, both with lumps in their throats. They continued to drive along in silence, until Mr. Hoffmann parked near a river. He could hear the fast, rushing water. He picked up the white roll, and one flap fell away to reveal Kris’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to cover it, gently kissing Kris’s battered forehead. He then approached the river, placing the body next to it. He gently rolled it in, watching as the currents tore away the sheet and carried Kris’s body away. Mr. Hoffmann stood there, staring at the waters blankly for four minutes.

“He loved this river.”

And he broke down sobbing, burying his face in his hands.

Kris’s body floated down the river for who knows how long. The blood had washed off his face and he was face down; half his body submerged. Death was cold and sudden, something he had been longing for a long time.

So, imagine his surprise when he woke up on the bank of a river, his head injury gone and only slight pain in his neck.

“YOU’RE ALIVE??”

Kris heard a voice and jolted. He looked behind him… nobody. He looked to the sides… nobody.

“The river, genius.”

Kris hesitantly crawled towards the river, staring at his reflection. Soon… something else was staring back. A black oval, with two white circles for eyes and a gaping grin. Kris scrambled back.

“Hey!! That was rude.” Scoffed the disembodied voice.

Kris gingerly went back, forcing himself to look again. There it was. The creature.

“Great, now that you can see me… ah I see where I went wrong. I didn’t let your soul leave your body."

“…What. The fuck.”

“My name’s Xoran, I’m the demon of possession. And I have… majorly fucked up.”

Okayokayokayokay

I LOVE THE DESCRIPTION

It Is masterfully done with just the right amounts of tension, action, and emotion in each spots

This is simultaneously sad and scary at the same time and OMFG THE ENDING LMAO

Your descriptions are flawless I LOVE IT

[witla]

2023 Year Review

Hello!

So first of all I wanted to make this on audio like I did on 2020, but honestly I don’t think I have time and room to record my voice lol.

Second holy shit the last time I did this was in 2020 itself, why I didn’t make this on 2021 or 2022? Idk maybe I didn’t want to talk about it, but I’m going to have a brief mention of things about them here.

So 2023…

It was a very zig zag year for me to be sure

First, I’m quite disappointed on myself because I didn’t make much art like I did before, if you see my archive on tumblr, you can see the gaps between months and the amount of drawings I did (not a lot), I wish I could have made more art, but when you get on a job, your brain gets fried and artblock its inevitable.

Speaking of my job…oh boy, at first I was excited to finally got settled in a job to make my own money and such (I entered last year on August), but the more time I’ve been, the more unwelcomed I felt, let’s just say that I haven’t click much with my coworkers like I did before, my bosses are not there at all, and I just feel like a ghost, not appreciated, but I don’t want to quit yet because I don’t think I can find a job that quickly after quitting one, I want to have more experience and such. I just hope we can have a better environment again like before.

In terms of health, God, it’s been my more painful year yet, sickness after sickness after sickness, at least I went to the hospital once for brief hours, its better because the period of 2020-2022, I’ve been on the hospital like five times a year for days. And let’s not talk about how my moods swings went and so on, my mental health was on the verge of breaking, so much that I was ready to say goodbye to the world like the fifteen time…

But I didn’t

Why?

Because despite all this toxicity and this negativity in my personal life, some things are worth to live for.

It’s worth to hear your dad say “I love you” and cook you the food you love, to say that he will help you no matter what, and appreciate you and say how smart and beautiful you are.

It’s worth to hear your brother say he worries about you, and wants you to be okay, to send you memes, images and videos to laugh with the most surreal humor we gen z have.

It’s worth to hear your sister tell you about her hyper fixations, to hear her silly but funny ideas and contribute alongside her, to see her draw with acuarelas, and show you the weird but funny videos she laughs about.

It’s worth to have your grandma let gift you things you don’t really need, but it’s still appreciated and hugs you and kisses you, when she loves you despite your low self-stem.

It’s worth to hear your uncles and aunts to say how are you beautiful you are, how they love the way you laugh, the way you smile, they say keep that cute smile of yours always.

It’s worth to see your cousins, talk to them, hug them, and play alongside them UNO cards and videogames, especially when they also have the same interest as yourself and understands you when no one else does.

Its worth to see your dogs, pet them, see how they wave their tail at you, how they get happy when they see you coming back home after work,

Even if we bicker and a lot for the most minimum things, we love each other, typical Mexican family lol, but yeah my family has been a big support in this year.

Also I’m proud of myself, I had the guts to join a dance group, specifically an Ori Tahiti group, I learned to dance something that I wasn’t familiar with, not only that, I learned more about Polynesian culture and language, and it that group I made some friends, my teacher is a very open minded and lovely person, after my exam, she wrote on a paper of how if I have more confidence in myself I might be also present as a solo dancer (WOW).

Learning to dance definitely improved my physical and mental health (a little bit yeah because I have my downs) like I lost a significant amount of weight thanks to it, and seeing the others dance and talk with them and dance alongside them, it’s also worth to live for, they definitely boost my confidence.

And even if it’s a bit cheesy, some media I watched and played, it was worth it, it helped me in the bad times, it helped me to have fun, to feel fun again, to enjoy my life, thank you!!!.

So yeah, even if my year had ups and downs, I’m ready for next year

I hope things get better with me, but no only me, to everyone, I hope it becomes a better year around the world, please be a better year for those who need it!

If you read this, well thank you for having the time to read it!

To my followers, thanks for sticking with me, even if I have a small following, I appreciate you a lot and I love you!!!!!!!!

Good news is that I finally made more pieces of art, although it’s my usual personal weird, surreal, abstract pieces of art based on my struggles, good things, just surreal shit and songs I listen too, also made new OCS so… I’m hoping to upload them soon on January!

Happy New Year!

See you soon on 2024!!!

An Witlacosh

[nothingnowheres]

Introduction.

If you're hearing My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski playing, you have to know Rowan Burke (She/Her, Cis Woman) is near by! The 28 year old teacher has been in town for, like, six months. They're known to be quite blunt, but being outgoing seems to balance that out, or maybe it's the fact that they resemble Adeline Rudolph. Personally, I'd love to know more about them seeing as how they've got those wide smiles, loud laughs, summer sundresses, and cherry-stained lips, and maybe I'll get my chance if I hang out around Brightside long enough!

Basics.

Height: 5'9"

Age: 28

Hair color: Dark Brown

Eye color: Brown

Gender: Cis Woman

Pronouns: She/Her

Occupation: French Teacher

Extras.

Languages: English, French, Spanish, Korean

Dominant hand: Right

Siblings: Quinton Burke

Pets: N/A

Relationship status: single, but complicated

About.

[ Car accident tw, death tw, pregnancy tw ]

Born and raised in France, Rowan is the youngest of the late Silas Burke and Jisoo Choi. Although their marriage did not work out, Rowan's childhood was happy and, to some, very cushy. She was deeply loved and cherished by her father and had a great bond with her older brother. Her mother, a former model, was more like a random visitor, but Rowan liked the adventures they went on every once in a blue moon.

Oscar was one of her constants. Rowan has very few childhood memories without him. He was always close and in the background of her childhood a love story unfolded. He was her father's best friend, then a pseudo-uncle, and later her stepfather in every sense of the word except legally.

Rowan, with the support of her fathers, made the decision to attend university in the states. She traded France for California and spent the next four years of her life traveling up the California coast between final exams and term papers.

Her graduation came almost too soon. Rowan walked across the stage to the cheers of the most important people in her life: her dads and her brother.

The plan after graduation was to return to France for one last, perfect summer. For the first couple of days it was exactly that: perfect. The weather was beautiful, the wine was decadent, and there were no responsibilities.

The car accident ended the perfect summer with a funeral and a stepfather who was just a shell of the person she always knew. Suddenly, Rowan no longer recognized Oscar and maybe, in a way, Oscar no longer recognized his children in his grief.

Life, unfortunately, goes on. Rowan returned to the states for work during the winter. She struggled to find enjoyment in the hazy mists of Seattle, but her job was a distraction. Maybe, she was too distracted to realize how much Oscar was struggling -- maybe, that's why she can't fully bring herself to hate him for what he did next.

Oscar's letter was a shock. Oscar was going to return to the states; at first, it seemed like an opportunity to draw closer together, but instead they just drifted further and further away.

A few months turned to a year, then two, then four, and now six. A lot has happened in those six years, things that Rowan has only shared with Oscar in bits and pieces -- like her pregnancy.

Her child's father had been a bit of a distraction. Some light slicing through the gray, but Rowan couldn't bare the idea of telling someone casual that she was pregnant only for him to leave, too.

So, Rowan didn't tell him. She told her brother and, by letter, she told Oscar. In her third trimester Rowan began to think more about Oscar. Her father was gone, her mother was never more than a fleeting visitor, but why would she deny her baby Oscar? Why wouldn't she at least try to mend what slowly broke?

It took some convincing (tears) to get her older brother to agree to the move to Hemlock Springs; the town on all of Oscar's letters. In the end, Quinton made the move with her. That was six months ago, and it's been three since her daughter, Poppy, was born; she hopes three more months will not pass until she works up the courage to let the only father she has, the only grandfather Poppy has, back into their lives.

[atths--twice]

Appointments of Emotion

Worry and fear consume Scully while she’s pregnant. Her mother wants to help, but will Scully let her see her when she’s most vulnerable?

A conversation I had with a friend, discussing how Scully and Maggie would navigate the delicate balance of Scully's pregnancy, and it led me to write this story. I hope you all enjoy it. 💓

“Mom, you didn’t need to bring so much,” Scully said, looking at the bags of groceries her mother had brought, needing to make a second trip to the car and refusing Scully’s offer to help her.

“I know,” Maggie laughed quietly, as she too looked at the groceries. “But… I was there and I kept thinking that maybe you’d like this or maybe that and then soon the cart was full and…” She shrugged and smiled, reaching for a bag to begin putting the groceries away.

Scully forced a small smile and nodded her appreciation.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I was running low on some things. I had planned to stop after my appointment tomorrow.”

“Oh, you have an appointment?”

“Yeah. Um… I want to make sure everything is okay. I…” She rubbed her belly, swallowing hard as she looked down and blinked quickly, hoping to get rid of her tears. “It’s a… a new doctor I’m seeing. Just to be sure it’s going well.”

“Would you like some company? Or would you prefer to go alone?” Maggie asked quietly, the rustle of the grocery bag stilling.

“I…” Scully said, her voice quivering as she shook her head.

Suddenly her mother’s arms were around her and she was holding her closely. Scully clung to her and cried, the tears unable to be stopped. Her mother murmured as she stroked her hair and hummed softly.

“I know, Dana,” Maggie said, rubbing her back. “I understand the feeling of being alone. And pregnant.”

“Mom…”

“I know it’s not the same, not by a long shot,” her mother assured her. “But some aspects, I understand. I didn’t have anyone to go with me. My mother was gone by the time I was pregnant with Bill. And then your father was gone when I was pregnant with nearly all of you kids, for the majority of the pregnancy.”

“Mom, it’s…”

“I know. It’s not my place to ask.” Maggie pulled back and looked at her, wiping Scully’s cheeks with her thumbs. “Your life is your own.”

“Mom,” Scully whispered, drawing in a ragged breath.

“Dana, I worry about you. About the baby. I just want everything to be okay. To know that you and they are fine.”

“We are. When it comes to that anyway,” Scully said, trying to smile.

“Everything else will take time,” Maggie said wisely and Scully nodded, biting her lower lip.

“Would you come with me tomorrow?” she asked, holding onto her mother’s slim wrists as she continued to stroke her cheeks.

“I would love to come with you,” her mother said with a smile.

“Good. Okay.”

She kissed Scully’s forehead and then stepped back, smiling as she stared at her.

“But first, the groceries. Then I’ll make you dinner.”

“You don’t…” Scully started to say, but stopped herself. Nodding, she wiped at her eyes. “I’d like that. Thank you.”

“Of course, honey.”

_____________

The paper covering the exam table crinkled beneath her as she shifted uneasily. She looked at the pictures on the wall of the fetus during the different trimesters. She was in the second trimester now and she rubbed her belly as she compared the size of it to other objects.

About half the size of a ruler. A little longer than a can of soda.

“Look at that,” Maggie said, stepping closer to the pictures. “The baby may be sucking his or her thumb. That’s amazing. But also, we had a time of breaking Charlie of that when he was little.”

“I remember,” Scully said with a small smile. “He cried a lot when you tried to make him stop.”

“Hmm, yeah. And then one word from one of his friends and it was what babies did,” her mother said with a sigh. “Things feel so big in those moments. So important to change and then…” She shook her head and they looked at each other as a knock sounded at the door.

“Come in,” Scully called out, sitting still and folding her hands in her lap.

“Hello,” a woman said, smiling as she stepped into the room. “I’m Doctor Neil, we spoke last week.”

“Yes, hello. It’s nice to meet you,” Scully said, shaking her hand. “Dana Scully and this is my mother, Margaret Scully.”

“Maggie, please,” her mother said, also shaking the doctor’s hand.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you both. Will anyone else be joining us?”

“No there’s… no. Just us,” Scully said, letting out a breath.

“Not a problem. Just wanted to know if we should wait.”

“No. We don’t need to wait,” Scully said with a polite smile.

“Wonderful. Let’s get you set up and then we’ll take a look at your baby.”

Scully nodded and as the doctor readied the ultrasound machine, she laid down on the table, the paper even louder than before. She raised her shirt and unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down slightly.

Her mother lay her hand gently on her shoulder and she reached up and held it tightly.

“Everything is looking great on your end, Dana. Your weight, blood pressure, everything is where it should be at this point in your pregnancy. Do you have any concerns or questions?”

“No,” Scully whispered, choking back a laugh as tears filled her eyes. Mulder would have had questions, talking the doctor’s ear off, looking for information.

But he was not there. She did not know where he was and so there were no questions to be asked and then answered.

Taking a deep breath, she squeezed her mother’s hand as she exhaled and her mother squeezed back.

“Okay, let’s take a look here. The gel will be cold, but you know that, seeing as you’ve been here before.”

Scully, prepared for the coldness of it, still gasped as the gel was squeezed onto her stomach. The wand was then placed over it, Doctor Neil pressing firmly into her stomach.

“Okay… Now if this little one wants to be cooperative… Yeah, there we go,” the doctor said as a whooshing sound filled the room.

“Oh, God,” Maggie breathed, squeezing Scully’s hand tightly. “Listen to that. It’s a miracle.”

“I always feel that way myself,” the doctor chuckled, moving the wand further as Scully closed her eyes, tears threatening to choke her.

“Is… is the baby… okay?” she managed to get out.

“Oh yes, it looks great.”

“Oh, Dana. Isn’t it amazing? Look at the profile. Oh, you can see the heart beating. Look at that.” Her mother’s grip on her hand loosened slightly as she stepped closer to the screen. “Little hands. The nose… the mouth, oh… it’s so amazing. A small word for such a big thing, but Dana, look.”

“It’s okay?” she asked again, not looking as tears spilled from her eyes and pooled in her ears. “It’s… normal?”

“Of course it is,” Maggie said softly. “Right, Doctor? Everything is normal?”

“Everything is perfectly normal,” she said and Scully began to cry.

“Oh, honey,” Maggie said, coming back to her and hugging her, though the angle was slightly awkward. “The baby is perfect. It’s okay. Everything’s okay.”

“Would you like a moment alone?” the doctor asked, the wand on Scully’s stomach lifting.

“No,” she said through her tears. “Just… I’m alright. It’s just… I’ve been worried and… I’m okay.”

“Completely understandable,” the doctor said softly, the wand still off of her stomach as Scully tried to calm her tears.

“I’m okay, Mom,” Scully whispered, patting her mother’s arm and she pulled back, searching Scully’s face. “I’m okay. It’s all just… I’m okay. I want to proceed.” She sniffled and the doctor handed her a box of tissues. “Thank you.”

“Of course. It’s normal to be worried and concerned. Let me know when you’re ready to proceed.”

Scully nodded as she blew her nose and then grabbed another tissue to wipe her. Taking a deep breath, she nodded.

“I’m ready.”

“Okay,” the doctor said and the wand was placed back on Scully’s stomach along with a bit more gel.

Scully now stared at the screen, holding her breath, until she saw the profile of the baby and she smiled, tears once again filling her eyes.

“Everything is okay?” she whispered, needing assurance again.

“Everything looks great. Size, growth, heart rate… it all is right on target. Now, I can’t tell here, but…” the doctor said, moving the wand around. “Hmm… do you want to know the sex?”

“No,” Scully said, still staring at the screen, looking only for anything that might appear abnormal or worrisome.

“No?” Maggie asked, touching Scully’s shoulder. “You don’t? It would be so fun to know.”

“Not yet,” Scully whispered, not voicing her concerns and worries about her growing child. “I just want to be sure he or she is doing okay.”

“Yes, they are,” the doctor said. “Ohhh, would you look at that!”

“He’s sucking his thumb!” Maggie said with a laugh, squeezing Scully’s upper arm. “Oh, Dana. Look at him.”

“Or her,” Scully said softly, watching the baby suck its impossibly tiny thumb.

Mulder, she thought. I wish you were here. I wish you could see this. Your son… or daughter.

“I’ll print out some pictures for you. Would you both like some?”

“Oh,” Maggie said, her hand going to her mouth. “I… Dana?”

“Yes, for both,” Scully said, looking up at her mother with a smile. She looked down and bent to kiss Scully’s temple softly.

“Thank you,” Maggie whispered as Scully closed her eyes briefly.

The gel cleaned from her stomach, Scully readjusted her clothes and sat up, feeling a bit of a head rush. Breathing out, she waited for it to pass and then looked at her mother as she held the sheet of sonogram printouts. She was smiling as she traced her fingers over the baby’s profile, shaking her head with a hum.

“Just perfect,” she whispered and Scully prayed that she was right as she placed a hand on her stomach.

They left the doctor’s office and went to lunch, Maggie continuing to look at the sonogram photos, talking about the baby.

But Scully could only half listen, worrying about so many things. The baby, her work, and Mulder. Where was Mulder? Why could she not find him?

At home, she stuck the sonogram photo on the refrigerator with a magnet. Staring at it, at the proof of the miraculous life growing inside of her, it was too much and she had to take the photo down.

She knew she was pregnant, of course, but seeing it in black and white, it felt as if she was tempting fate. Asking for pain and heartache to find her.

She wanted to celebrate, to be excited, and there were moments when she was, but mostly she was worried and scared. Too much lay upon this pregnancy and the wonder it held. Too many things were unknown and she was not sure she wanted to face them.

_______________

Her mother came to the doctor with her again, but only once more.

And it had been during her lowest moment.

Mulder had been found, lifeless and beyond any healing she could provide for him.

Burying him, driving away from the snowy graveyard, had been one of the hardest things she had ever done.

A week after, as she had been lying on the couch in tears, Maggie had arrived to pick her up for an appointment she had been dreading. Helping her with her coat, adding tissues to the pockets, they drove to the doctor in near silence.

There was no excitement, only silence. After the doctor had left, new sonogram photos lying on the exam table, Scully had begun to sob.

Maggie had held her, rubbing her back and stroking her hair, saying nothing as Scully cried, her heart breaking.

After that, Scully saw the doctor on her own.

Not because she did not want her mother there, but because she cried every time and she did not want her to see. She did not like the feeling of vulnerability that overcame her every time she saw the doctor, nor did she want her mother feeling she needed to comfort her each time.

She wanted to be soothed and told it would be okay, but she also wanted to be alone in her grief, crying without being seen or heard.

Her mother never asked, not verbally anyway, but her eyes asked questions when Scully brought her new sonogram photos. She watched her mother each time, seeing the moment of excited happiness extinguished by the sadness as she sighed.

“Thank you, Dana,” Maggie whispered, the afternoon Scully came over with new photos after her latest appointment.

“Yeah,” Scully breathed, looking at the picture and then closing her eyes, wishing it was with Mulder that she was sharing this moment.

Look at him, Scully.

Or her.

No. It’s a boy, I can tell.

Oh, you can determine a baby's sex now? In utero? With no training on how to read an ultrasound?

Nah, I don’t need all that information. I just know.

Is that right?

Yeah, it is. I mean, I’m right most of the time about everything, why not about this?

“Oh,” Scully sobbed out, unable to stop herself, as she could so clearly hear his voice and picture his teasing smile.

Her mother looked up and then pulled her into her arms as Scully pitched forward slightly.

“It’s okay, Dana. It’s okay, honey.”

It’s not, she wanted to scream. And it never will be again.

But instead she cried, no longer caring if her mother witnessed her tears.

A sudden, big movement from the baby, caused her to pull back with a deep gasp as she gripped her mother’s arm.

“Ohhh,” she breathed, cradling her stomach with her other hand. “That was…”

“I felt that,” Maggie said in quiet awe, placing a hand on Scully’s stomach. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m…” Scully said, both hands on her stomach now, waiting to see if there would be another movement like that one. When nothing came, she looked at her mother with wet eyes. “I’ve never felt them move like that before.”

“Perhaps they sensed your sadness and wanted to help,” her mother offered and Scully looked at her incredulously.

“Mom,” she said, shaking her head. “That’s… it’s…”

“It is. But don’t discount things you may not understand.”

“You sound like Missy,” Scully whispered.

“Sometimes I wonder if she had it right,” Maggie said, tears filling her eyes. “Aside from the crystals and other things, I mean.”

They both laughed softly, wiping at their eyes. Scully put her arms around her mom and hugged her again as she closed her eyes.

“I know it’s not your belief, Dana. Nor mine really,” Maggie whispered, rubbing Scully’s back. “But sometimes we have to put our faith and thoughts in those that are unseen, not unlike our faith in God. We can’t see it, but we know it’s there. We can feel it.”

“It’s hard sometimes,” Scully whispered back and Maggie nodded.

“I know. I know it is,” Maggie agreed, pulling back and holding Scully’s face gently in her hands. She smiled and Scully closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. “This baby, Dana… they are nothing short of a miracle. Is it too far of a reach to believe that the two of you would have a connection beyond what you ever imagined?”

“Considering everything else in my life,” Scully said bittersweetly as she shook her head. “No, it’s not so far-fetched.”

Maggie smiled, stroking Scully’s cheeks with her thumbs before patting them softly and moving her hands.

“How about some tea?”

“I’d like that,” Scully said, nodding her head and placing her hand on her stomach again.

In the kitchen, Scully sat down carefully and took a deep breath.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Would you come with me? To the next appointment?” She looked at her mother, the teapot held in her hand, and watched a series of emotions cross her face.

“I will always want to be there, but I leave it to you to make that decision. I understand if you’d rather go alone, I truly do.” She smiled and Scully breathed a sigh of relief.

“I’ll let you know next time. We could… do lunch again.”

“Yes. That would be nice,” Maggie said with a smile.

“Thank you, Mom. For understanding,” Scully said softly and her mother nodded as she filled the teapot with water and placed it onto the stove to heat up.

Forcing herself to not think about the many worries that were constantly plaguing her, Scully closed her eyes. Breathing in slowly, she caressed her stomach and listened to the familiar and comforting sounds of her mother humming quietly as she moved around the kitchen, preparing their tea.

It’s not okay, she thought. But I’m trying.

The baby moved gently under her hand, almost as though they were responding in sympathetic understanding, and Scully sighed as she smiled sadly.

Yeah. For both of us.