#listen their dynamic is some of the best character interaction in the series

[quasarden]

Haven't drawn in forever, but have some pre-dmc5 Nero and Nico as I chip away at art block. Still rough but its coming along.

#devil may cry #dmc #dmc nero #dmc nico #listen their dynamic is some of the best character interaction in the series #we love a rockabilly mechanic gunsmith and the weird demon guy she works with #wip

[temptaetions]

angel eyes 🪽 b.cc (m)

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

✩ spellbound secrets series m.list

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

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

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

✩ word count: 21.6k | lowercase intended.

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

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

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

tuesday – november 02.

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

feeling lost is an understatement. 

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

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

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

every. single. day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

but again, he didn't know you.

"chan!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"you try and make a classroom a home." 

thursday – november 12.

from: [email protected]

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

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

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

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

signed,

y/n y/l/n

identity theory

spellbound institute of magic

psychology department

555-8212

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

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

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

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

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

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

he grimaces, feeling a bit gross at ogling you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

y/n, 26

compassion conjurer, benevolence magic

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

interests: if your ass is phat, swipe right 🥵

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he feels so alone.

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

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

tuesday – november 17.

he's sitting on your couch today.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you miss him.

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

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

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

from: [email protected]

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

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

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

signed,

bang christopher chan

spellbound institute of magic

general magic

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

thursday – november 19.

chan hated meeting his parents in secret.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thursday - november 26.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

message from: doyeon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

message from: jihyo <3

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

message to: jihyo <3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

not chan.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

message from: jihyo <3

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

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

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

message to: jihyo <3

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

tuesday – december 15.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

he did so awfully fast.

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

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

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

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

wednesday – december 16.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

to be loved.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

thursday – december 17.

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

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

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

which inherently, made you feel worse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

it all makes sense.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

friday – january 08.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

from: [email protected]

dearest bang chan,

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

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

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

signed,

dr. kang seulgi

dr. min yoongi

master sorcerers

spellbound institute of magic

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

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

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

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

bang chan

professor y/l/n

identity theory

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

the fall was slow, like liebesträume.

feeling lost is an understatement.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist: @cookiesandcreammy | @alician87

(if you asked to be on the taglist and do not see yourself here, please consider checking if you have your age/year of birth in your desc! otherwise, you will not be tagged. thanks!)

#bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan fic #bang chan imagine #bang chan angst #bang chan smut #bang chan fluff #chan x reader #chan fic #chan imagine #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz fic #skz fluff #skz angst #skz smut #useraltair: originals🌷 #spellbound secrets #kvanity #cultofdionysusnet

[starry-eyed-steve]

Sandra's Fic Wrapped 2023

Hello <3, it's the last day of 2023, and I wanted to give some love to all the amazing fanfics I read this year. Each one of the people mentioned here is so talented, and everyone should check out their entire work.

(Disclaimer: all fics mentioned are Steve Harrington x reader)

Here are my top reads from this year (in no particular order)

Wildfire by @curiositydooropened (completed series, enemies to lovers) This fic has one of the best world building, I need this to happen in s5, actually. Doesn't shy away from discussions of ptsd and overall, it was so well done. I still have to finish it, but I know Amanda did an amazing job with it. <3

Glitch by @munsonsreputation (series, friends to lovers) This fic is just so cozy and cute. Reader insert felt like a very well-rounded character. You will love all the interactions with the other characters. It's just so well done. <3

whip it! by @schoopsahoy (one shot) This fic was cuteness overload. Loved the confident reader insert, and overall, the character dynamics were so well done, esp Steve and the kids <3

don't think twice, it's alright by @hawkinsquarry (part of a series, hurt/comfort post s4) I think this is one of my fav hurt/comfort pieces I've read this year. The interactions between reader and Steve are so tender. Overall, this was perfect <3

Into Open Flames by @kurokoros (completed series, established relationship, horror, set after s2 canon divergence) This fic has amazing world building. The original monster is so terrifying and well done that I was on the edge of my seat all the time. I adored Steve's character so much, kinda wish the show would have handled his character that way instead of what they did in s3/4. Overall amazing writing <3

confetti by @slashersteve (series, single!dad Steve) My favorite single dad Steve fic out there. I still haven't read the latest part, but I had to mention this series. It's amazing. The characters feel so real, and you'll fall in love with Steve's daughter <3

become the sun by @headkiss (one shot, strangers to friends to lovers) This was probably my favorite summer fic. I adored the small beach town vibe. Overall, that was such a cute read. I still need to read this year's Christmas fic, which I know will be great because last year's was amazing. <3

the view between villages, part one: good bones by @sattlersquarry (completed series, choose your own adventure, s3) Listen this is one of the most creative works I've read. The amount of work that was put in it is insane. You play an active part and get to choose how your story ends. This was such a fun experience <3

the swindling of steve harrington’s heart by @stevebabey (one shot, strangers to lovers) This was such a cute fic, like Steve asking for dating advice in the Hawkins Post was just sweet. I loved all the interactions between him and the reader. If you need a pick-me-up, this is your fic <3

and they were roomates by @sunshinesteviee (one shot, friends to lovers) This fic was just so cute. I loved Robin being kinda in the middle of this and sick of their bullshit. Overall, amazing writing and a quick read if you are feeling down and need cheering up <3

almost paradise by @hawkinsindiana (completed series for now, ST rewrite covering all seasons) I said it so many times, but this is one of my overall favorite stories. Kinda wish we had the reader character in the actual show because it makes so much sense. The writing is amazing, I even shed a few tears towards the end. I can't wait to see what's in store for s5. Also, check out the various blurbs that go with it. There is so much work being put into this, and it deserves a bit more love. I'm gonna re-read the whole thing next year. <3

steve zombie!au by @luveline (compilation of blurbs and one shots) This is one of my fav AU, I can't just choose one thing, so I linked the entire masterlist Their relationship is just so special. I love the world building and the other characters. It's amazing <3

no good at waiting by @familyvideostevie (completed series, sorta enemies to lover farmer market au) This is one of my fav series, and we got such cute blurbs this year from this universe. It has such a cozy vibe to it, great world building and characters. <3

Any Way Out by @hairrington (one shot, angst, ex boyfriend Steve) This fic was a mix of heartache and comfort. Nadia is one of my fav Steve writers out there so everyone check out her entire masterlist. <3

some kind of muted blue by @thecreelhouse (one shot, dark themes, deals with things like ptsd) This was so devastatingly beautiful, I loved that this fic explored Steve's felings so much, something we don't get to see in the show. This was just amazingly written <3

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harringtion fanfic #steve harrington recs #please let all the links work #sandra says stuff

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 12! (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Spanking. (If spanking is not your thing, I have marked those parts with ~ at the start and end of them so you can read past them.) Dom!Elvis and dom/sub dynamics. Sex. ANGST. Jealousy. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 10,660

A/N: We're back, y'all and this part is a MONSTER so you're gonna have to carve out some time (it's what you deserve)! It took on a life of its own, honestly. I really wanted to explore the darker sides of both our Reader and Elvis and their choices. It is important to me in this piece to show that Elvis was a very complex human with very real faults, which can throw some people for a loop if they idealize him or don't know much about him, so be warned.

With that said, the convo between him and Anita in 1961 is real. I transcribed his parts as best I could with the quality of the recording. Hopefully, I did his mood justice in the writing (in terms of how Reader is interpreting it), but if you do choose to listen, I recommend headphones and patience. It's a long one and not a great recording. And once again, depending on your point of view, it shows a not-so-flattering side of EP, so proceed with caution.

Thank you all SO MUCH for your love, patience, and distractions as I've been ill! This community has been so wonderful and it's been amazing getting to know you all better and to be able to share our love of EP in all the ways! 💖

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. I will say I'm a bit self-conscious about this part for a variety of reasons, mainly covid-brain, so be gentle! I'm sorry in advance if it's not up to par.

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone.

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!)

Los Angeles, 1961

Walking down the hallway, you cannot help but be drawn to the perturbed sound of Elvis’ unique cadence from beyond the door of the den. It is cracked open just enough for the sound to come through, which must have been a mistake by whoever left last, probably one of the guys. You had seen Red come from this direction not that long ago.

You’d come out to LA at Elvis’ behest to join them all for a visit while he was filming his latest movie. You were happy to see Jack after so much time apart, and you’d instantly gotten swept back up into the Elvis lifestyle while being here, though it was moderately toned down considering his filming schedule. It was a nice change from what was becoming a bit of a lonely existence at Graceland. It wasn’t that you were alone, per say, it was just that the other wives were having and taking care of their little ones, which was a constant reminder of a life you couldn’t have. You loved spending time them and with the children—they just weren’t your own.

You certainly don’t mean to snoop, you’d only been making your way through the California villa to the bedroom to grab something out of your bag, but your curiosity wins out. You stop just shy of the door, head bowed, ear to the crack, wondering who has Elvis in such a state. Of course, you can only hear one side of the conversation, but you try to piece together as best you can what might be going on. You know you shouldn’t, but you do anyway.

Elvis responds to the person he’s talking to in an exasperated tone, “You know why—you know why I don’t call you anymore? This very reason, right here. This very reason right here…I-I-I-can’t talk to you, hon. You mess with my damn head, man. I-I-can’t count on a decent conversation with ya. Ya start throwin’ up all kinds of shit to me. Look, if I called you e-e-every damn night, you’d start bitchin about something different. You’re just a fuckin’ nag, that’s all, you’re just a nagger that’s all.”

Your eyes widen at that, at how mean he’s getting with whichever one of his women he’s talking to. You have seen his temper firsthand over the years, but not directed at you and you’ve never heard him talk to a woman this way. After knowing him all this time, this side of him shocks you a bit, and you stay rooted to the spot.

“Well, that’s the way I feel about it, a-a-and y-y-y-you don’t have to be that way either. Not to the extent that you are, you don’t have to be that bad,” he says vehemently. “I just know you’re gonna start throwin’ something up to me a-and I ain’t got time to hear it. You turn me the fuck up, you know that?”

And he certainly is turned up, you think. His annoyance and frustration are coming through loud and clear on this end, punctuated by his stutter. The woman must be talking because he pauses before continuing.

“Yes, all the time. I-I-I can’t stand it, I-I can’t stand it, Anita, I swear I can’t stand it. I call you and do right, my ass,” he says, annoyed. “I do, do right! My ass. If I called you e-every night, you’d start that shit.” Elvis starts mocking her in a whining, high pitched voice, “‘Who’d you see today? You g-got a girlfriend, I’m surprised at you, blah blah,’ that bullSHIT!” He spits it out at her, angrily. “Naw, it ain’t no lie. Naw, you bring it up every time I talk to you.”

Your heart races a bit just hearing the confrontation and at the thrill that you shouldn’t be eavesdropping in the first place. Of course, it’s Anita, you think. He’s been seeing her the longest of any of his girlfriends, even through Germany. You are friendly with her, but not very close. Although she is always nice to you, she has an air about her that rubs you the wrong way. Not that you’d ever show it, but she just seems a bit self-important to you, what with her beauty queen titles and flitting up to New York or out to Hollywood for her singing or acting. She is a little too pretty, a little too nice, and sometimes it just feels underhanded.

Or maybe you’re just jealous, a niggling voice in the back of your mind says.

You scoff at that. Jealous of what? Sure, it seemed like she had a glamorous life, what with all the things she did, and how beautiful she is, and being the girlfriend of THE Elvis Presley, but you know better than that. And right now it sure doesn’t seem like you have much to be jealous of, considering the way he’s talking to her. She’s been around four years, and there is still no true commitment from him. At least you have a husband who loves you and you are a permanent fixture in Elvis’ inner circle, giving you a leg up in this situation, you think a little haughtily.

Good god, what is wrong with me? Why am I being so petty?

You don’t have an answer to that.

Obviously, Anita is not happy, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Anita’s not dumb, even though she can play that part if needs be. She knows he’s seeing other women, and just because you’re not her biggest fan doesn’t mean she deserves to be treated poorly, by him or anyone else.

The thing is, you realize suddenly, even though he is likely in the wrong, you are still going to take his side in the end because he’s your friend. And that thought surprises you a little bit. But at the same time, there is anger starting to simmer in your chest at his poor behavior, at the way he keeps some of the women in his life hanging, waiting with bated breath to see if they will be the one to win his undying and singular attention.

You, of course, know better. Elvis is needy and fickle and loves being adored by as many women as possible. If there is one thing he’s addicted to, it’s girls. But he would no sooner give up his freedom to love as many of them as possible than he would to give up his career. Not to say that he doesn’t genuinely care for some of them; in fact, he is overly loving and demonstrative in some ways. It’s just that the standards for his love seem different than anyone else’s, and he gets away with things he might not otherwise because of who he is. But in your experience, the girls all figure it out eventually, and it seems like Anita is finally getting there.

It sounds like she is giving Elvis the business about it, which he doesn’t like one little bit.

“Why can’t you be sweet instead of bitchin’ like an old naggin’ ass wife, huh?” you hear him say, a little viciously, your eyes going wide. “I can’t stand that, I can’t stand it. Baby, you’ve got me crazy, you know that? You get worse a-all the damn time, a-and th-th-that’s why I don’t talk to you on the phone.”

You really, really should leave and get your nose out of his business, but it’s like you’re incapable of getting your feet to move. You’re mad at him for speaking this way to her, even though she likely IS nagging, you know it’s for good reason. She is right. He wants to have his cake and eat it, too, and he does not like being called out on it.

You hear him backtracking now, almost wearily telling her how much he loves her, over and over. The man doth protest too much. And the way his stutter pops up now, it sounds more like a child covering a fib than agitation. But you hate to assume.

“I told ya that I’m in love with ya. I-I-I-I-I-if I—if I—if I didn’t love you, I tell ya, I wouldn’t waste my time with you. I don’t have to,” he rebounds bluntly, harshly, then recovers quickly, “Well, I-I look forward to being with you, and I-I think about you a lot. But because I don’t call you three or four times a damn week, you say to me ‘Why don’t you…?’” His nastiness gets the better of him again, as he starts to mock her, but then he stops, his frustration evident. “Aw, HELL. I tell ya how I felt aboutcha, you oughta know how I feel. I mean, three long years, w-we’ve been battling this back and forth this same thing. You know I love you, darlin’.”

It all sounds rather unconvincing to you, as he seems to bounce so quickly from one emotion to the other. Maybe he believes it, you think, but you don’t think she’s buying it, not by the way he continues to reassure her, nearly pleading in some moments, and calling her pet names before that indignant tone returns to his voice. Even from out here, you can feel just how hard he’s trying to be patient, trying to placate her, with the many declarations of his love.

Silence falls for a moment, and you wonder what she must be saying to him, whether she’s falling for this or if she’s just as disbelieving as you are. You think she might be coming around based on how his voice changes yet again, how he’s both gentle and matter of fact, then his tone becomes almost boyish and sad.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps coming down the hall towards you. In a complete panic, you nearly jump out of your skin before looking around frantically for an escape. Desperate, you fling yourself into the room across the hall, but in your excitement, the door slams behind you.

Your hand pops to cover your mouth, as if this action alone will have kept anyone from hearing the door.

There is silence for a moment before you hear Elvis shouting, muffled, “Cliff? Cliff!”

Your heart thunders in your chest as you chastise yourself for being so damn stupid as to be eavesdropping on Elvis of all people, then you say a silent prayer that no one finds you as you hear more footsteps and another door slam. The footsteps head away, and with shaking breaths, you slowly open the door to find the hallway empty once more.

You tell yourself you are gonna skedaddle right out of there and go on with your business, but then you hear Elvis lay into her yet again:

“I-I-I love you very much a-and q-quit-quit-quit bitching and nagging me so much. I get so mad, I could break your neck.” That takes you aback, the way he just throws the phrase at her before going back to imitating her meanly, “’I can’t help it, I can’t help it! I can’t help it!’” W--w-w-w-what are you gonna do when I’m nuts and in an asylum?” Then he mumbles something you can’t understand but you hear him chuckle before he sighs big and loudly.

He's telling her he loves her but in a way that makes it obvious that he wants off the phone. She’s not having it based on the silence from his end.

Then he’s back to talking real nice and low to her, seemingly contrite and sorry, his stutter emphasizing it all. The stutter gives him away, you think, though you aren’t sure if it’s more agitation at her or that he’s feeling guilty. Perhaps it’s both.

“Well, m-maybe I’m not doing my part right now, but I mean give me a chance, you know. Just give me a chance. Don’t-don’t-don’t worry, j-j-just give me a chance, I-I, it’ll all come out in the long run. Okay? Take my word for it, hon, I wouldn’t lie to you. I love you, Anita.” A pause and then he giggles, “I’ll enjoy it. I love you very much darlin’. I do, Anita, I do…w-w-w-why would I lie to you, baby? I-i-if i-i-i if I’m l-l-l-lying…” he says, his stutter so bad now it’s hard to understand anything he’s saying.

You internally scoff at this. He’s been lying to her for years. But part of you wonders if he truly believes it will all turn out for them in the future. He is something of an idealist, after all. Maybe he really does fear losing her. Maybe that stutter is betraying his nerves rather than his guilt.

You aren’t sure how you feel about the prospect of him actually settling down, especially with Anita. For one, you don’t think it’s in his nature, but two, something about him doing it turns your stomach. You can’t pinpoint why, exactly, but the idea of him being married with little ones running about Graceland makes you want to scream.

You quickly push that thought out of your head, convincing yourself that your broiling frustration at him has more to do with his treatment of Anita than anything else. If he loves her and needs her so much, maybe he should just tell her the truth. You continue to listen in as he talks baby talk to her and emphasizes just how much he really will call her more, and then you hear him yawn.

“Hell, I’m tired. Oh, yeah. You do? You do? Well don’t sound so damn serious. How much you love me? How much you love me? Maybe? Baby? I love you. I love you. I wish, I wish, I wish I was with you,” he says, weary and tired of the conversation. There are long moments of silence, and you wonder what she is saying or if she’s hung up on him.

“I gotta go. There ain’t no party, I just gotta go. I’ll talk to ya later. I will. Don’t throw up more ideas…” He starts that terrible imitating of her again, “’I can’t! I can’t help that!’ I could slap your face right off.” He laughs through the rest now, and you know him well enough to know he’s being an asshole, provoking her. You can practically hear her shouting through the receiver, she’s yelling so loud.

“I think you’ve lost your damn mind. Yeah, ya have,” he says gently, quiet but cutting. Then he continues to chuckle, seemingly finding her agitation amusing. “Well…we’ll see. I’ll talk to ya later. Okay? Okay? Take care honey, be patient. Alright. Take it easy. Bye.” You hear the receiver click as he finally hangs up the phone.

You’re fuming now, a bit off the rails considering none of this has anything to do with you, and you know it. The gall of him to behave that way when he knows he’s in the wrong, that he is lying to her. For god’s sake, he is having a party right now and there are girls here that you know were invited by him for a particular purpose, and he’s over here telling Anita how tired he is and how crazy she is when she is right all along.

The now-small logical part of your brain is screaming at you to leave and to get your nose out of his business before you do something stupid, but instead you listen to Elvis as he lets out a huge sigh that ends in a frustrated growl.

“Who in the hell is out there lurking in the hallway?” you hear him shout out of nowhere.

Shit.

Your heart pounds, knowing you are caught, and you are mad enough that you refuse to run away. You take a deep breath instead, pushing the door open slowly.

Elvis looks up through his dark lashes from behind the huge mahogany desk, his hands steepled and his jaw set. Surprise flashes over his features when he lays eyes on you, his left eyebrow shooting up, but his eyes quickly return to a steely blue, hardening.

“How much did you hear?” There’s no preamble, no beating around the bush, no charming quip.

You consider lying for a moment. “Enough,” you finally say, knowing lying would be futile—he knows you well enough to see through your deceit. You are angry enough at him for it to show on your face.

“Hmmm. Mmm hmm,” he tuts, seemingly disappointed in you, his anger still simmering just below the surface. “What the fuck were you thinkin’, listening to my private conversation?” It comes out frighteningly low and biting.

You open your mouth to speak, but before anything gets out, he’s yelling, “What is it with the goddamn women in my life sticking their noses where they don’t belong?!” You cannot help but flinch at his outburst, even as angry as you are.

Elvis gets up so fast and so violently the rolling chair he’s sitting in flies backwards, hitting the bookshelf behind him. Rounding the desk, he advances on you, and you stumble, countering by stepping back. With his dark hair and flashing eyes, his features both soft and severe all at once, his natural beauty is intimidating.

Already angered by his conversation with Anita, he is teetering right on the edge of fury, on that blinding temper of his. Which is why you have no idea what comes over you next.

“So, how’s Anita?” you ask sardonically. A small part of you is hoping that your sarcasm will deescalate the situation. It does not. More likely, for whatever reason, you have this urge to push him right over the edge. He’s never turned his temper on you before, and his temper can be blindingly terrible, yet still you persist.

“Don’t be insolent. It doesn’t become you, y/n,” he seethes, his soulful eyes now a churning, hard, steely blue, like the northern Atlantic during a storm.

You continue anyway, “You should just tell her, E. She obviously suspects what you’re doing, wouldn’t it just be easier—"

“I didn’t ask for your fuckin’ opinion!” he shouts at you. Your heart begins to pound in your ears, along with the ringing of his voice, but you are stubborn as hell and pissed off, too, so despite all the warning bells, you keep going.

“You’re right, you didn’t, but I’m telling you anyway as your friend and as a woman who knows—and more so because no one else will dare to call you on it—” you shoot at him, trembling with anger, “Being cheated on and then being lied to and made to feel crazy about it when you know something is wrong is awful. That’s why she’s nagging you all the time. You are making her feel crazy. You should either tell her or leave her, Elvis, but this isn’t right.” You let out a breath, your body hot with anger and you are surprised at your boldness.

“Aw, hell, y/n, you gonna be bitchin’ and naggin’ now, too, huh?” he barks, his eyes flashing.

More words, ones you didn’t expect to speak, come rolling off your tongue. “Why are you hanging on to her if you are just gonna constantly screw around behind her back? How can you really love her and do that to her? You have to know after all this time that she wants you to marry her, but I think we both know that’s not going to happen, is it? What exactly is the point of all this, then, Elvis?”

You expect him to scream at you again and you brace for it. But instead, he steps closer, cornering you. Anger is rolling off him in waves but now it’s tempered by something else, too. Something heavy and thick that starts to suck the air from the room as his deep eyes lock onto yours, unwavering.

“Why y/n, you sound almost jealous.” It comes out smooth, too smooth, with a dark chuckle as he takes one more bold step into you. Your back hits the wall, breath catching at the insinuation.

“W-what? No,” you eek out defensively, in a voice far too high for your liking. You feel your cheeks flush. You know objectively what he’s trying to do, distract and deflect blame for his situation off him and onto you. It’s manipulative but effective because you are flustered beyond repair now.

And maybe because there’s a little truth to it, that small voice from earlier adds. Though you have no idea how Elvis may have pulled that deep thought, one that you barely acknowledged yourself, from the deep recesses of your brain.

Faltering under the pressure of his gaze and the closeness of his lean body practically pressing up against yours, you try to skirt around him.

He slams his hand onto the wall next to your head and you wince as his arm blocks you in. You’re breathing hard now, feeling something between shock and fear and exhilaration as his beautiful face comes too close to yours, forcing you to turn back to him.

Elvis will not be ignored.

“I’m not sure I believe you, baby,” he purrs. “Why else would you be snooping into my private romantic business?” His nose almost grazes your face, tantalizing, the scent of his Old Spice filling your nostrils, consuming you. You realize you’ve never been this close to him, not like this.

Maybe there’s a good reason for that.

Your heart drops into your stomach, but you roll your eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you respond, glaring at him. It sounds almost convincing.

Elvis chuckles meanly, not believing you, his lip curling into a grin, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes. He’s a panther stalking his prey, and you have come crashing into the jungle, demanding his attention. 

His wrath is laced with something fervently sexual, and anything sexual coming from Elvis is ten times what it might be from another man. It’s intoxicating in the worst way possible, clouding your thoughts, distracting you from your frustration at his behavior. It’s as though, over time, he’s learned to wield his charismatic essence and his sexual energy into a weapon, one which he is now turning on you.

You realize you are in way over your head, but you’ve left yourself no room to backpedal out of this.

Elvis’ icy eyes roam over your face. For a moment you think he might close the gap between you two and press those pillowy lips to yours. For a moment you allow yourself to wonder if they feel as soft as they look, if they taste as sweet as you imagine.

What would he do if it were you that closed the gap? Would he be shocked out of his rage and pull away? Or would he kiss you back? Would you want him to?

Guilt washes over you, a cold shock, in response to these thoughts. What in the hell is wrong with me today?

But right now, cornered as you are, you feel like you might do almost anything to get out of this intense limbo he has you trapped in. You decide to call him out and see what happens.

“Oh, please, Elvis. Does this bull work on all the girls?” you hum almost nonchalantly, even though your heart is galloping, but it has the desired effect. He bites his tongue and shakes his head, leaning back from you. “What, you think you can just try and beguile me, of all people, and I’ll forget about what a jerk you’re being?”

“That’s not—,” he begins, through gritted teeth.

“Oh, shut it,” you interrupt, even more mad now after calling him out on his bad behavior for the second time. “I have half a mind to call Anita up myself after the stunt you just pulled!”

“The hell you will!” Elvis growls, eyes heated, yanking you by the arm towards the desk. “I’ll teach you what happens when you stick your nose where it don’t belong.”

~

You yelp in surprise as he pulls you over. It all happens so fast; you barely resist because your brain doesn’t comprehend what’s happening until he’s planted himself on top of the desk and bends you over his knee.

“Elvis, what are you…?” you yell. He cannot be serious, there is no way he will—

The first smack hits your backside hard. You choke in shock, not just at the sting but at his audacity. You are frozen, speechless, until you realize he’s aiming to do it again. You try to wriggle off his leg, flailing your arms for purchase, but he is much stronger than you. His arm clamps down on your back, holding you fast.

“Elvis!” you shriek at him, “Don’t you even think about—!” The second smack lands harder than the first, on the other cheek, and you squeal, kicking your legs.

“You gonna stay outta my business, y/n?” he asks.

“Goddamnit, Elvis!” you hiss, trying to glare back at him, but he holds you fast.  

“Takin’ that as a ‘no’,” he muses, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he brings down his hand again. You yelp again, then grit your teeth. He’s not going easy on you, though you are absolutely sure he’s not anywhere at full strength, either. He’s not truly trying to hurt you. While your dress is softening some of the blow, it still smarts, sending your eyes watering.

You are livid, but much to your shock, you are also finding yourself exhilarated, stimulated. Your heart races and you have no idea what’s gotten into you. It’s like everything you’ve done in the last thirty minutes—poking your nose in where it didn’t belong, becoming so angry at him, pushing all of his buttons on purpose—was some strange way to get here. Not that you knew, not at all, that this would be your punishment, but it was almost as if you were crying out for his attentions all along.

This realization stuns you into stillness, and you barely register him talking to you again.

“I can do this all day, y/n, until you tell me what I need to hear,” he says in a sing-song voice. He’s enjoying it, his anger still there, but no longer at the forefront of his intent. No, now he is entirely focused on getting you to cry uncle.

You are stubborn and silent, though still reeling with confusion from your realizations of what got you here, slung over Elvis Presley’s knee, and that you, too, might be enjoying this, but in all the wrong ways. When his hand slaps your ass this time, you bite back the sound that wants to come forth, because it is no longer one of shock. Never in a thousand years do want to admit that you are relishing the feel of his hand on you like this, that the sting is having the opposite effect of what he wants or what either of you expects. It is wrong in so many ways.

Your lack of response must confuse him because you feel him hesitate in the slightest. You are unsure what comes over you, other than the impulse that you don’t actually want him to stop, which means he definitely should stop, but you can’t let him know why and instead it all comes out jumbled. The intended, “Elvis, please don’t!—Stop!” somehow (perhaps a little less than subconsciously) turns into a breathless, pleading for him to continue, “Elvis, please…don’t…stop.”

And though you feel his leg tense under you slightly, the only outward indication that he takes it any other way, he indeed does not stop. You squirm at the last second, realizing your mistake. And when his hand lands this time, fingers splayed wide, he hits decidedly lower and more centered than before. There is no way to know if it is purposeful or accidental, not that it matters in this moment because you cannot help the way your fingers dig into his thigh and the embarrassing moan that escapes your lips when he slaps your center along with your ass.

There is no denying what that sound meant. There’s no way to play it off or pretend it didn’t happen. You are fully aroused and completely mortified.

And Elvis knows it. You know he does by the way he stills, how his other hand clenches your dress at your waist, how you can feel his chest heaving along with your own in the thick, heavy silence that comes after.

For a moment, you wonder if he will push, if he’ll try to continue under the guise of this insane game, and a shameful part of you almost wants him to, wants to see how far you’ll both go, but that thought is fleeting.

~

He releases you, and you scurry off his lap as though he is on fire. And he might as well be with that tell-tale twinkle burning in his crystalline eyes, which are no longer stormy with anger but brimming with amusement and surprise and curiosity and heat. Then, as if he can’t help it, those pink lips pull up into a wide, cheeky smile, his tongue peeking out between his teeth and the tip touches his top lip. The look is somewhere between bashful and positively sinful.

You smooth your dress frantically with your hands, your face burning. Flustered beyond repair, you swipe at your watering eyes, feeling the heat scorch through your body. You are so utterly embarrassed that you could cry. Neither of you speaks at first (what in god’s name can you say??), but Elvis starts to giggle—giggle—that hiccupping little laugh of his that you know will spiral into a fit if he really gets going.

“Don’t you…don’t you dare laugh at me, Elvis Presley!” you sputter and stamp like a child, pointing at him, but his face is going red now and he’s starting to lose it.

“I’m-I’m n-n-not! I just c-can’t…” he stutters before he erupts into full blown belly laughs.

“Oh, my god,” you cry, bringing your hands to your face. You are both livid at him and mortified at yourself, but the situation is completely ridiculous and his laughter becomes contagious. “I swear to god, this isn’t funny!” you wail, fighting back your own laughter.

This just sends him into fresh peal of laughing, and he doubles over.

You finally break down, laughing, too. “Shut up!” you yell, but all the sting is out of it with your own giggles. “This is all your fault!”

“MY fault?!” he cries, trying to catch his breath, tears leaking from his eyes.

You don’t have an answer to that. You know it’s very much on both of you, especially you.

Finally, the laughter starts to die down and you both are wiping at your eyes and catching your breath. Silence starts to hang heavy again, but you break it with ferocity.

“Let’s just pretend that none of this ever happened, okay? I’ll forget everything I heard, and you’ll forget…the rest of it, and we’ll never, ever speak of this again,” you say seriously, with conviction. “Deal?”

As absurd as the whole situation is, you both know there are very real consequences, for both of you, if any of what’s transpired leaves this room. The problem is you know he can be terrible at keeping secrets; however, there is no way for him to tell yours without exposing himself. You can see him work through this now that he is calmed down, his blue eyes regarding you carefully.

You force yourself to remain steady under his intense gaze, trying your best to ignore the way your body wants to involuntarily respond to him all the sudden. You need him to know how serious you are because if this somehow got back to Jack, or to anyone at all, you would be humiliated at best and divorced at worse.

Maybe that’s a little dramatic, you think, but it wouldn’t be good for anyone. But it lights enough panic in you to get your head on straight.

“I’m serious, Elvis. Not a word from either of us,” you reiterate, as Elvis’ face has become unreadable. Your body still feels hot and you will your heart to slow, praying that he’ll give you the answer you need so you can get the hell out of here.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally nods, “Not a peep.” He purses his lips and mimes locking them and throwing away the key. You want to roll your eyes, but instead breathe a sigh of relief. You turn, quick on your heel to leave, needing as far away as possible from this whole situation. Far away from him.

“Y/n?” he calls out from behind you as you reach for the door.

Your heart drops into your stomach and you brace yourself for a quip. You turn, not expecting to see the apologetic look on his face that you do. It’s almost childlike in its sincerity, his eyes big and mournful.

“I-I’m sorry I lost my temper. I-I-I shouldn’t have put my hands on you like that,” he says, playing with his ring nervously.

Your jaw nearly drops to the floor. An apology is not at all what you were expecting. You blink a couple of times, your whirlwind of emotions calming for a moment.

“Thank you, E. And I’m sorry for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. It really is none of my business,” you add, cheeks warming again as you look down, feeling embarrassed for all the reasons, feeling exposed under his gaze.

“Naw, baby, you’re just callin’ it as you see it. You’ve never pulled punches with me, and I don’t expect you to start now,” he replies, lip curling up in a smile.

You nod. “Even so, I’ll do my best to refrain from spying on you in the future.”

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay.” You turn and leave before he has a chance to stop you again. Hurrying to the bedroom you are sharing with Jack, you lock yourself in, lean back on the door, and slide to the floor with your head in your hands.

What in god’s name came over you? Why would you do such a thing? And why in the hell did you like it when he touched you like that? Panic and guilt run through your veins like ice. You push all the thoughts away, as deep and as far as they will go.

Not a word. Pretend this never happened. Nothing is wrong if it never happened.

You repeat it in your head until it sticks.

*

Carrying the black folder with your sheet music, you take a deep breath and take a seat on the stage behind the curtains that hide the backstage from the audience. You’ve never been backstage for one of his shows, and it is bustling with musicians. Your job tonight is to follow along with the Sweet Inspirations and see if you can find your footing in the music while the show is happening. With the volume on stage, no one should be able to hear you from out front.

Nerves flow through you, nevertheless. It’s been a crazy three days with the vocal coach, who has assured you that, yes, you have the capability to do this and are “a natural,” but that you need to work through your stage fright. You’re not sure if it is her idea or Elvis’ to put you backstage during a performance, but here you are, your heart pounding as though you were going on stage with the rest of them.

In those three days, you haven’t seen Elvis alone, either. This has made you incredibly uneasy for a variety of reasons. Part of you is glad because you feel like your head is clearer about the whole affair, that you have some semblance of control, that if you want to end it (and you should) that you can.

However, another part of you craves his attention, missing him desperately, worried that he’s gotten what he wants from you and now is moving on. You keep thinking about how if he’s not spending his nights with you who might be keeping his bed warm instead. This fear is beginning to wreak havoc and is at odds with your logical thoughts. You know you need to get over it, to get over him, that all of this is just for fun anyways. It’s just sex. Nothing other than that was ever promised. He’s free to do what he wants with who he wants.

It's not as though you haven’t seen him, though, it just hasn’t been alone. Between your lessons, his schedule, and Jack seemingly looming everywhere, it’s been hard to steal any time away. As soon as you told Jack you were staying, that Elvis was offering you a job as part of the show, you couldn’t quite get a read on how he felt about it. Jack seemed surprised, a little annoyed, and wary when you told him. You were sure he wouldn’t want you around anymore, but instead he has been more attentive than usual, which has also thrown you for a loop. You don’t know if he suspects something might be going on, but he hasn’t been off cavorting until all hours of the night anymore, instead staying with the guys at the after party every night in Elvis’ suite.

In any case, all you and E have had are a couple of fleeting, longing looks and the occasional touch, which is maddening. He did come to one of your lessons, but remained professional in front of the coach, only giving you a quick peck on the cheek and left a lingering hand at your waist, burning through your dress and threatening to set you aflame right there and then.

During the after parties, where the gang, plus a lucky group of fans (usually pretty, young things), would come up and join you all. You smiled your way through the gatherings trying to appear as normal as possible as the girls flirted endlessly with Elvis, and he flirted back at them. Not to mention the way Jack would look at the girls, too. The whole situation was becoming untenable.

Thank god for Sandy, who always seemed to be there when you needed her, with a squeeze of a hand or a bump of your shoulder, stealing away with you to the bathroom when it all became too much.

But, lucky for you, you at least had a distraction of learning all the music for the show, hence why you are here now, amongst the fervent energy that is building backstage. The Sweet Inspirations just finished their set, and now everyone is waiting on the man of the hour.

You finally see him round the corner, clad in his black herringbone suit, the one you find impeccably flattering on him. He looks gorgeous but is vibrating with nervous energy and seems like he could be sick at any moment, his eyes focused on something only he can see. Involuntarily, you rise out of your chair in his presence, wanting to go to him, to comfort him, but you stop yourself. It isn’t your place, and you don’t want to distract him or possibly make his nerves worse.

Much to your surprise, Elvis seems to sense you, turning to you, and his cobalt eyes light up when they meet yours. He switches gears, much to the surprise of some of the guys, and walks towards you. They don’t follow, which you are glad for. You meet him, desperately wanting to pull him in for a kiss, but everyone seems to be watching. His eyes travel over your face, needy under the fear he’s experiencing.

“You’re here,” he says gratefully, as though it is a surprise that you actually showed up.

“I’m here,” you reply. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous. But better now,” he says, those big blue eyes blinking at you with an almost shy smile.

“Me, too,” you laugh. God, you want to touch him so badly, it’s like an itch you can’t scratch.

“I miss you,” he whispers, and it nearly breaks your heart with the way it makes it swell in your chest.

“I miss you, too,” you nod breathlessly, “and we’ll talk later, but right now, you need to go out there and kick some ass, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods, taking a deep breath, puffing his cheeks and letting it out slowly. He reaches out and grabs your hand, squeezing it tight, his huge rings cold against your skin. Then he turns abruptly, heads off, and cues the band to start.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Seeing that side of him, so needy and small, is such a contrast to how larger than life he is as he walks on that stage. It reminds you so much of the young man he once was, so different from the cocky, self-assured man he can be today.

Then the show starts in earnest and you sit back down, realizing you have a job to do and can’t just moon over him the entire show. You do your best to follow the music, humming along, quietly finding the high harmonies to the songs you feel like you’ve heard a million times but are now experiencing differently because you are listening for other things.

You do notice that some of his jokes are falling flat and that the audience isn’t responding as enthusiastically as they could be. Elvis fights for their attention, being the consummate performer that he is, and you can tell he’s a bit ruffled by it.

By the end of the show, you’ve been swept up in the music and it feels like no time has passed, your nerves long forgotten. It’s an amazing feeling, really, as the crowd applauds and the curtain falls and everyone bustles with after-show energy. Even though you weren’t officially on stage, you still feel swept up in the high of it all and it’s invigorating.

Elvis, of course, is soaked with sweat, breathless as the swarm descends with compliments, though he doesn’t smile or seem to believe them even though he nods through them. You know he is a perfectionist in his own right and by his demeanor, he seems agitated by how the performance went. His eyes find yours only briefly, guarded, before he is hustled away. You hide your disappointment in collecting your music and instead focus your energy on conversing with some of the musicians as they pack up their instruments. The mood feels sour, dampened, as Elvis’ displeasure radiates even after he leaves. Your emotions are tumultuous, as you feel neglected, and you are glad when you see Sandy waiting for you so you can go up to the penthouse together.

“How’d it go?” she practically bounces. “How nervous were you?”

“Pretty nervous at first, but after the first song, I just kinda got swept up in the music. It was pretty remarkable, actually,” you reply. “Though E didn’t seem very happy with the show.”

She pulls you along, through the curtains and out into the hallway. “And how is…everything else?” she intones with a knowing look.

You sigh, shifting your music folder to the other arm, looking down. You hurry her along, away from prying ears. “He came up to me before the show and told me he missed me,” you whisper.

“Oooh, really? That’s good, right? Sometimes a man needs to know what he’s missing to really appreciate it,” she muses. “Do you miss him, too?”

“I don’t want to! But as soon as he was there in front of me, I felt like I was gonna come out of my skin to get to him. I’m just…having all these feelings I don’t know what to do with, San,” you fluster. “Every time I think I have a handle on it, something happens to remind me that I’m completely off the rails.”

“You’re not ‘completely off the rails’, y/n. You’ve just got it bad,” she says almost nonchalantly.

“Ugh! I’m desperate to see him alone, and seeing him but not being able to touch him or to do anything that might give us away is hard. Not to mention, all these girls hanging all over him is making me crazy, and Jack seems to be everywhere under foot all the sudden, which is even more maddening. Oh, I need to end this. I can’t keep doing this,” you whine.

“Listen to me, we are just gonna go upstairs and hang out with everyone just like normal, okay? And we’ll try to get you two alone at some point. I’ll talk to Jerry, okay?” Sandy says, grabbing you by the shoulders. “I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks, babe,” you sigh. “I’m fine, really.”’

Sandy side-eyes you as you both head up to the top floor.

The guys have procured yet another gaggle of women and a few men to join the party tonight. Jack has planted himself next to you, uncharacteristically putting his arm around you. Surprised, you try not to stiffen, reminding yourself that this is your husband and it’s totally normal for him to put his arm around you, but it feels more possessive than affectionate. Or maybe you are just imagining it.

You busy yourself making small talk as you all wait for Elvis to appear. When he does, freshly washed, the smell wafts over you, reminding you of your most recent escapades in the shower. You flush a little at that, hiding your face by taking a drink.

Elvis glances at you only momentarily as he enters. He seems a little off, you think, a little edgy, as he commands the room and finds a seat amongst the girls. Your jaw tenses as they fawn and fall all over him, and he flirts back as though he can’t help it. This makes you insane to watch for the third night in a row. All you can think about is his hands on someone else the way you want them to be on you.

And the more you want Elvis’ hands on you, you instead get Jack’s, which seem to be gripping you at all times in some way. Over your shoulder, on your knee, on your hand…you’re trapped in this tortuous hellscape where you would do anything to get him to stop touching you, but you can’t, you can’t without it giving yourself away.

You are equally trapped as you watch your lover give his attention to everyone but you. Every time Elvis laughs or smiles or his eyes sparkle flirtatiously, or if he touches one of them or when they touch him, you want to launch right out of your chair at him.

He wants them, you think. That’s why he hasn’t seen you the last few days. He’s been with other women.

The thought drips like poison into your heart, twisting it, filling you with anger and sadness.

Why would he want you when he can have any pretty young thing? No one wants you. No one chooses you. It drips again, icy and brutal.

All of it goes on for what feels like an eternity, and you want to scream, to cry, to escape, but you’ve made this bed and now are being forced to lie in it. It’s your punishment for all your misdeeds, you think. But your stomach is rolling with an ever-growing fury at Jack, at Elvis, at those girls, at yourself, and you start to squirm in your seat.

Finally, your jealousy gets the better of you. If Elvis won’t pay attention to you, then you’ll find someone else who will. It makes the most sense that it’s your husband, of course, who is already strangely attached to you tonight, so you bite your tongue and force yourself to return his affections instead of shirking from them. You lean into him, you put your hands on him, on his chest, his arm, his leg. You pretend it was like it was years ago, when you still both wanted each other more than anything. You throw yourself into the act because it takes your mind off the women across the room.

Jack is surprised, you can tell, but he’s not too far gone into the bottle and soon is returning your affections, pecking at your cheek and neck. After a while, when he whispers in your ear that he wants you, part of you is exhilarated, powerful, because finally your husband wants you again.

It’s in that moment when Elvis’ eyes find yours for only the second time since you’ve been here, those intense blues locking on as Jack’s breath tickles your ear. Elvis’ gaze darkens dangerously, and you watch his jaw clench as he watches you and Jack. And when Jack takes your hand, pulling you off the couch, you feel Elvis’ eyes burning holes into your back.

Finally, is all you can think. Finally, the men in your life are paying attention.

You are so wrapped up in this game, in your anger and your jealousy, that when Jack yanks you into the bathroom and locks the door behind him, you aren’t even upset about it. You want to be disgusted at him (and you are—you still hate him for what he’s put you through), but in this moment, he only has eyes for you and that’s all you want right now, even if it is misguided. Even if the love isn’t there like it’s supposed to be.

When he kisses you with his whisky-tinged breath, it almost feels like he cares. When he gropes you and touches your body in the places he thinks he knows will turn you on, you pretend that it does. You let yourself get swept into a fantasy, into the act, because at least it’s something to chase away all the terrible things you’ve done and all the terrible thoughts in your head.

When you grab at the straining erection in his pants, the heat of him burning into your palm, and hear his gasping moans in your ear, you feel powerful. As you sink to your knees, you relish the look of lust and surprise in your husband’s eyes, and it’s enough to keep you going, even though part of you is appalled. You take him into your mouth, closing your eyes, wishing he was someone else. Jack twists his hand in your hair as he leans against the counter, slack jawed, and you know this won’t take long. It makes it bearable. You’ve known him long enough to know exactly what to do: how to lick, where to touch, the noises you need to make. And you relish in the control you have as he comes undone in record time.

Jack is still gasping for breath when you stand, spitting what he left in your mouth in the sink and washing your mouth out. He grabs at your ass, panting, “Jesus, treasure, what’s got into you? That was fuckin’ hot.”

You shrug coyly at him in the mirror. “I gotta pee, sweetie,” you say, shooing him out, wanting him away from you. More than anything, you want to be alone to simmer in your anger and revulsion.

“Mmm, okay. Thanks, babe,” he hums, still obviously refracting, drunk on you rather than whisky for once. He kisses your cheek sloppily before zipping up and heading out. It doesn’t escape you that he didn’t even make an attempt to get you off. Not that he could, but it figures.

You look at yourself in the mirror, hair askew and cheeks red, eyes blazing. This is the woman I’ve become, you think bitterly. I’m either fucking my lover with my husband in the next room, or I’m sucking off my husband with my lover in the next room.

It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You don’t recognize yourself anymore. You ache for Elvis, but you cover it with anger and jealousy and fear. You hate Jack for what he’s done to you, yet you fall into him and use him the first chance you get.

Rooting around in the drawers, you find some toothpaste and swish it around in your mouth, hoping, wanting to get the taste of Jack, the taste of your own bitterness out. You wash your hands and comb your hair, wondering if this was enough, if you can go back out there at watch Elvis with those women and not die a little inside.

Knock, knock.

The insistent rap on the door startles the hell out of you and you jump. “One second!” you shout with one last look in the mirror. You open the door quickly, not wanting to keep whoever is waiting, and walk out.

And you run smack into Elvis’ chest. You don’t even need to look up to know it’s him—at this point you know his physique and his scent anywhere. A little yelp escapes your lips, and you feel the heat, the anger rolling off him in waves. You gulp, raising your eyes to his and they are as hard and dark as you’ve ever seen them. Your heart jumps into your throat as he grabs you by the arm and yanks you across the hall, throwing you into his bedroom and slamming the door behind so hard that the wall shakes.

You stumble for a second in your heels but recover quickly, turning to face him. Elvis is furious, in that terrifying way you’ve seen before, nearly blacked out with rage. You can see him barely holding on, gripping to a sliver of sanity as he faces you, chest heaving.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” he seethes, his hands fisted and jaw clenching and unclenching, black hair tumbling over his forehead.

Your heart sprints in your chest and you unconsciously step backwards before you catch yourself and stop, lifting your chin at him. “I don’t know what you mean,” you say almost haughtily.

“The fuck you don’t,” he says, advancing on you. You scurry back again, putting the large couch in between the two of you. “You think I didn’t notice the way he was all over you and how you were all over him out there for everyone to see?? You think I didn’t know what was goin’ on when you left?? You think I didn’t see his fuckin’ face comin’ back into the room, grinnin’ like an idiot?!” he screams, grabbing a bottle of water off the coffee table and hurling into the wall.

You flinch as the bottle explodes, glass tinkling down to the floor. “Elvis, stop it! Calm down, everyone can hear you!” you hiss, trying to knock some sense into him, but he’s way beyond that.

“I don’t give a shit!” he yells. “How could you fuckin’ do that?” The rage and the hurt you see in his blacked-out eyes is more than you ever expected and tugs at your heart. But you are still furious in your own right, furious at him for this display, furious at the whole situation.

“How could I do what, E? What? Be with my husband? My husband? Or have you forgotten since the stunt you pulled the other day in the bathroom that I have one?” you throw back at him, “That I have to go back to my room every night to him, pretending like everything is fine? Did you forget that?”

You’re not even sure if he hears you with how gone he is. He rounds the couch, coming for you. Scrambling back, you find that you have nowhere to go, your back is against the wall. Reaching you, he grabs your face in his large hands, his intense eyes drilling into you. “I don’t ever want to see you looking at another man, touching another man. I’m a really jealous motherfucker, y/n. And I don’t ever, ever, ever want you to be with another man, I don’t care who he is. I want to know that you’re mine and all mine,” he heaves.

“Are you kidding me?” you say, wrenching out of his grasp. “How can you demand that of me when you know it’s not possible? I have to keep up the pretense of my marriage! And you think I don’t know that you’ve been with other women? It’s been three days, Elvis, I’m not an idiot!” He looks at you with a mix of dumbfounded innocence and rage. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Maybe it was the girl in your lap just now or the one kissing you that gave it away!”

Elvis growls, shaking his head, staring down at you with those endless eyes. “You’re just fuckin’ jealous. You’re so jealous you went and fucked your husband in my bathroom to get my attention, is that it?” He slams his hand on the wall next to your head, but you refuse to react.

You know you shouldn’t say it, but he’s right and you know it. You did do it to get his attention, and now you have it. “No, baby, I didn’t fuck him. I just sucked him off and spit him out,” you say demurely, cutting, batting your eyes at him, knowing and not caring how awful you’re being.

The way his eyes widen betrays his shock, but he covers it quickly as they narrow. You wonder for a moment if you should be truly afraid because you have pushed him too far, but you almost don’t care. Part of you wants him to feel all of this, a fraction of the tumultuousness that you’ve been feeling for the last week.

“Hmmm…,” he hums, then clicks his mouth. His eyes are black and blazing as they pass over your body. This stillness is almost more frightening than the shouting. You shiver, trembling, but it’s just as much from your own anger as from his, and you can feel the fury laced with something else entirely. You refuse to back down or look away.

~

“You goddamn fuckin’ little brat,” Elvis finally snarls and yanks you with him to the couch. He slams down and pulls you over his knees, and suddenly, a memory from a long time ago flashes in your brain, one you had entirely pushed out of your mind. You choke on it as it floods back to you, knowing he must remember, too, knowing that everything is quite different this time around.

You gasp when Elvis pulls up your dress and yanks down your panties, the cold air of the room hitting your most sensitive areas. “Elvis! Elvis, don’t you dare, don’t you even--!” you shriek, writhing in his lap, not knowing if your words are protests or encouragements at this point.

When his open palm slaps your ass, the sound reverberates through the suite, the sting radiating down your thighs and sending water into your eyes. You gasp again, more from surprise than anything. Surprise that while it smarts, it doesn’t feel bad.

“Elvis,” you breathe out, wriggling in his lap.

He holds you to him. “Oh, don’t you ‘Elvis’ me. You’ve been an obstinate, naughty lil’ brat, and I ain’t havin’ it,” he says through gritted teeth before bringing his hand biting down onto the other cheek.

You hold back your cry, digging your nails into his thigh instead, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a big reaction. Beyond the sting, you feel heat gathering in your belly, but you don’t want him to know that either.

“Seems ya need a lesson or two about how to behave, now don’tcha, you naughty lil’ girl?” he seethes, laced with a sneer. He brings down his hand again, and this time you can’t hold back the sound that emanates from your throat, a whiny moan.

“Ah, that’s what I thought,” Elvis purrs wickedly, rubbing your stinging skin with his fingers. You are completely at his mercy now, your frustrations unravelling under his touch. You buck in his lap, needing more, needing him to ease your toxic thoughts.

“Hmm, you like rilin’ me up? Like gettin’ me all worked up and jealous, huh?” He smacks your ass again, this time his fingers grazing your core. You moan fully now, unable and unwilling to contain it, tears running down your face, your heat building in the most confounding of ways.

“Answer me—didja pull that lil’ stunt on purpose, baby?” he asks, his hand reverberating on you again.

“Y-yes,” you breathe out.

“Yes, what?” he pushes, palming your ass, leaning down towards your ear, his breath hot.

It takes you a second in your haze to piece together what exactly Elvis wants, and once you do, it sends a delectable shiver down your spine. Once again, he never ceases to amaze you in how he can bring out pleasure in you that you never knew you craved or needed.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whine.

You hear him choke back a groan at that and next to your arm, you feel a twitch in his pants. You can’t help but smile.

“You wanted my attention, and now you’re gettin’ it, honey. Is that what you want?” he says, heat leeching from his voice.

“Yes, Daddy,” you breathe again.

He brings his hand down one more time with a grunt, and you cry out in pleasure and pain, ass raw but you are somehow feeling a release that you didn’t know you needed.

~

“Look at you, baby,” Elvis says, somewhere between pride and surprise, running a finger through your folds, which unbeknownst to you are dripping wet. You bite your lip at the contact, sucking a breath in. You want him to touch you, but instead he pulls you up to face him. You hiss at the feeling of your raw ass hitting the backs of your heels as you kneel on the sofa.

He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him, tears staining your cheeks. “I need ya to look at me, honey,” he orders. You do. His eyes are still dark, but his fury has been tempered by lust.

“You been waitin’ eight long years for me to do that, haven’t ya?” he murmurs. Of course, he remembers exactly how long it’s been.

Your heart flutters and you nod, admitting to yourself that it may have crossed your mind once or twice, in your most secret moments.

“Ain’t nobody else touched you like that, baby?” The way he asks it is almost laced with hope, hope that this is something of you that only he gets to have.

“Never,” you whisper, shaking your head, his hand still gripping your chin.

“Only me, huh? Good girl,” he says, pleased. He lets go of your chin, wiping the tears off your face with his thumb. Then he looks in your eyes.

“I need you to be truthful with me now, baby, yeah? Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear. Do you want me to keep bein’ rough with ya? Are ya likin’ that? Because if you don’t, I’m gonna stop,” he asks, voice real low.

You appreciate him pausing long enough to ask you and you consider him for a moment, though it doesn’t take long. “Yes, I like it,” you say, surprising yourself with the truth of it.

That dark look flashes over Elvis’ face again, and it sends a thrill right through you.

“Okay, but you tell me if you need me to stop, promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good, cuz I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet and I’m still fuckin’ pissed,” he growls. Your heart plummets into your belly with excitement as you watch the sweetness drain from his eyes, replaced by his fervent anger from earlier.

And you smile.

**

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[best-type-moon-couple]

The Winner of the “Best Type-Moon Couple” Tournament is…

Gilgamesh and Enkidu (52% of the Vote)

[Congratulations for the Runner-ups, Mr. Sakamoto Ryouma and Mrs. Sakamoto Oryou, who came close with 48% of the Vote]

Thank you so much to the 502 people who voted in the final poll, as well as everyone else who participated/nominated/followed this tournament. I appreciate every single one of you and hope to see you next time I do something like this again. Until then, thanks for voting, see you whenever there’s a next time!

Letter from the Mod (Under the Cut):

Introduction:

So… uh… been a while since we talked like this, completely nervous, unprepared tournament mod to the hundreds of thousands of potential listeners and followers of the poll. Well, now that it’s over, I want to introduce myself.

Hi, you can call me Snow. I’ve been a Type-Moon fan for about a year now. I got into this series when my cousin introduced me to “Fate” and from there I started to grow on this series at an… large… unnormal… potentially problematic and unhealthy way.

“Where’d the inspiration come from?”:

When I got into Fate, the one thing that reached out to me were the characters themselves and their relationship with one another, and the more I looked into the nasuverse, the more characters that I found that I feel in love with, the more I started to hate, the more I started to have convoluted and mixed feelings towards, but the one thing I loved about most was how characters interacted with each other and how well, or unwell, they get along and nothing else can show my love and appreciation for character dynamics than the couples of Type-Moon.

The couples of Type-Moon range anywhere from being weird to comical to sad to disgusting to wholesome and even genuinely life changing, with the characters themselves having dynamic that either showed how much they pine for love, how love broke them, how love managed to fix them, or by simply how wholesome they are. When Samurai Remnant released and featured a character who loves their spouse very much that they make it their main focus in game, juxtaposed by their spouse still showing their love and devotion for them, it was the thing that eventually caused me to make this tournament in the first place (they weren’t in the tournament though, but it’s the thought that counts).

Running the Tournament:

I was completely sure that I wanted to run this tournament, but the main caveat was the fact that I never ran a tournament like this before and it became very clear, very quickly that I had no idea what I was doing (the potentially weird rules for the tournament and the delayed start times were a big red flag of this, so I’m glad we had so many people stuck around despite that).

Still, I wanted to do my best for this tournament, so I created everything myself (with my sister helping to find a tournament bracket website). And when I mean everything I mean I edited together the main banner of the blog and edited together most of the couple portraits (I got lazy and used official art for some of them, guess which ones)

What’s next?:

Honestly, I want to do another tournament sometime. Obviously not immediately since I also want time off, but I’d also want to do something else and see more people come together to vote on something we all may or may not enjoy. And while I have no ideas at the moment (if you want to give any ideas then feel free to share then through the askbox or through the submission box) but maybe this blog will go through a renovation when I figured something out, hm?

Want to see what I do?:

Well, in case you wanna follow me specifically, then you can follow my personal blog (@player-blandon) for more of my personal things or things I post about games I like sometimes. I don’t post there consistently, and when I do it’s probably, mostly, shitposts unless I’m live-blogging a game I’m playing through or (in the most recent post’s case) doodled something I wanted to share. It’s the place where I share things sometimes and hopefully it’s a place where I can talk to all of you about some stuff as well (chances are I’m going to be posting more fate and type-moon things after this tournament).

Closing Thoughts:

Honestly, this tournament was a bigger undertaking than what I originally thought, but I’m glad I did this. I consider it a learning experience.

Thank you all once again for participating in this tournament. Congratulations to the King of Heroes and his only friend for winning and good job Ryouma and Oryou for putting on a good fight. We all put in a lot in this tournament and I hope to see you all again when I do something like this again…

…until then, I’ll see you whenever I can. Goodbye everyone. See you later!

#a couple’s battle #couple tournament #tumblr tourney #and then they kiss #end of the tournament #fate #fate grand order #fate stay night #kara no kyoukai #tsukihime #mahotsukai no yoru #witch on the holy night

[kaledya]

Hello again !

Oh okay I understand!

Thank you for the explanation! Things make sense in that type it follow more the show seasons development. I forgot that in your SS AU Luci and Charlie are in a bad place. It will help (Not me panicking because Constantine come sooner and I always plan a VERY slow burn romance between him and Lolicia. Ahhh. So excited. Anyway) The more important is that Lucifer and Serenity coming later. Heaven arc last. I get it !

I will take care of your advices 🌸 So greatest showman mini arc incoming let's go!

Ps : glad you like my drawings!🌸 Thank you even if its not the best. Promise I will try to not butcher Constantine and Serenity fanarts ahah

Have a nice day! -marquisev

Hİ!

And I'm really glad to know that I could explain it properly! I hope I could help!

And yes, they are on bad terms right now, generally because Lucifer can't put his pride aside and admitted his mistake, or because he thinks knew what was best for Charlie and saying her plan is Unreasonable and far from reality .He doesn't even let Charlie explain herself and is upset about the fight they had the last time they met. Charlie thinks,

"He won't listen to me anyway, why am I trying any harder?"

Lucifer, on the other hand, cannot go to his daughter and admit that she is wrong, again because of his pride.

(This idea is seriously a wip, I didn't think of that arc in detail ) but when Lucifer comes to the hotel, Alastor criticizes him as a father.(Because by this time, Alastor has been spending a lot of time with Charlie, and they even fight back to back at one point. He can understand Charlie's relationship with Lucifer from her behavior.)

Extra: (Their current reaction is not the same as in this post, I drew this post before I started writing my AU, Alastor does not try to make fun of Constantine in any way (he knows what will happen if he does, he logically does not want to push his luck).)

And after this encounter and some events in between And after a long and touching conversation between Lucifer and Charlie, Their relationship is getting better. In my mind, this scene reminds me of the scene between Joel and Ellie in Last of Us 2.

But they still love each other sincerely. Lucifer was in a bad mood due to Lilith's disappearance and this widened the gap between them.But if they sit down and talk, they won't have much of a problem with time.

OH MY GOD REALLY?? I'm seriously already excited about how you're going to write their interactions! And I have full confidence that you will write a great slow burn romance. I can't wait to see their dynamics.

And yes, Constantine arrives at a time similar to when Lucifer arrives in the series.

Yes!, but it's not too early, I don't have an exact timeline, but seriously important events are happening at the hotel, maybe Angel is getting rid of Val.After the people in the hotel really start to trust each other and show their character development.

The reason I think this is because Charlie invited her brother over to show him her progress.For this, there was a need for arcs in which the team would experience character development.

Yes, Serenity comes to the hotel after the hotel's case with the Vees and after a while, at the right time, she reveals her identity to Alastor .Lucifer arrives shortly after this event.After this there is a heaven arc and the planning is this after this event it's completely blank page, I really don't know what will happen next.

And as I said before, you don't have to follow what I wrote, be free. This is your story.

And believe me, I love your drawing style, I think you draw very well.

And I'm really excited for the next arc!

By the way, I read the latest episodes. It was very nice to read Husk and Lolicia's interactions and I find Charlie's activity very creative!

And Lolicia's new outfit has a really interesting and creative design I love it! And reading that you were inspired by Baldurs Gate 3 really surprised me and brought back memories.I take that outfit in House of Hope too and after wearing it, Gale's comment made me laugh a lot😂

#hazbin hotel au

[gildeddlily]

we stan adam (paul bby what are you doing)[about to make this a series]

again with this. about to die because of them (chuuya looks so young in every Stormbringer art I'm crying)

(1. We Stan The Flags)

2. We stan Adam (Paul bby what are you doing)

he comes out of nowhere and pull out this (they were about to kill him and he was like "oh wow you're kinda mean I expected a better welcome")

ADAM STOP the first time I read stormbringer I fell in love with him right here. like the first thing he said I already was head over heels for this beautiful robot (people who don't like Adam scares me. he's so precious. the perfect assistant, fighter and comic relief)

chuuya's so hilarious- he's about to become one of the strongest character of the bsd universe and an european guy he doesn't know crash his mafia birthday party and ignores the attacks of some of the strongest people he knows, and then said guy proceeds to say that he's here to protect chuuya and kneels before him? (I'm already hearing chuuya's voice actor. it's a dream but let me indulge myself)

(me talking to my sister cause I'm a dumbass) yes I already said that, the flags' bond and interactions are so familiar it's making me cry. Albatross is the classic dumb cousin or little brother that deep down is smarter than you but incapable of doing basic things, and Lippmann the successful third-grade-cousin everybody hates cause he gave them inferiority complex (Iceman neutral chaotic forever)

Chuuya's the king of emotional constipation, and they love seeing him express his feelings (they've welcome him in their group and dynamic, and truly cherish him and wish the best for him. they're so honest it hurts) (everybody ab this thing hurts) (I just know that at least once they gang up against him and started showering him with compliments and he almost cried and they were flabbergasted)

HELLO WHAT IS THIS Doc is literally so me guys (yk the voice) wish I was Chuuya rn (not really considering what's about to happen) (but still)

yeah cause Chuuya near him is like a cat hissing at a horse. I can understand Adam for holding him like and Amazon pack, not for saying to a teenage boy's face that he was short but for the rest ofc (he has his programs and he knows what to do but not really and it's so cute) (Chuuya after a year still wishing for his so wished growth spurt is sad) (but I just know that he doesn't care about it, at least not really. he could still smash someone's face with his pinky finger)

Yes Adam it was (I wish for our society to be ruled by robots too) (imagine Adam being your prime minister. maybe someone explains to him social clues) (Chuuya's so confused) (random robot guy tells him jokes and that some overpowered guy wants to kill him)

...Paul fuck is this the way to tell someone you're their "brother" ? A little of decency please (Chuuya's about to suffer so much I can't continue) (I will) Adam's scream was a little terrifying the first time I read it, the "That man is Paul Verlaine!" shout made me shiver and still does. Still love them

The sad thing about this first interaction, is that Verlaine is honestly sad "like the sea at night", and honestly wants Chuuya to believe him, he truly thinks of themselves as anything but humans. He doesn't do it out of malice (one of the reason he's still alive down those fucking dungeons I know it) and it all makes hating on him hard. If you're able to hate characters like verlaine I envy you

It is a call for help, and his personal way of saying "Hey, I've never felt understood by anyone cause I'm not human and I don't feel as one, wanna come with me and be two non-humans together?", but it came out a little bit more like "Let's be non-humans together, but anyone who ever tried to tell u you were human should die, so everyone you love rn. Hope you don't hate me, kiss kiss"

here is why I didn't want to read it. he is ready to listen to Verlaine. Chuuya doesn't think of himself as truly human, so he wants to listen to him, but his first thought is about the Flags, and sometimes I wonder what would have happened if the french guy didn't kill his friends. got to thin ab it now

yes, darling, there's a difference between love and control. I'm sorry no one ever explained it to you, you boyfriend didn't have the possibility to. and like always Asagiri's able to portrait questions like this in his stories, cause it's a difference not everyone understand. or that not everyone cares about. Verlaine probably didn't really care, desperate how he was about having someone to understand him

this makes me hate every panel where Chuuya uses Corruption (hate on Mori, don't hate on Dazai he was the only one to ever give him a choice. well, it was at least a choice from Dazai's point of view. he was like "do what you want, I don't really care if the Mafia fall! just follow your heart<3" but ofc Chuuya would have never let dazai and the Mafia fall. as if. it's still sweet. now cry with me)

He should leave himself suffer and feel. he's not going to. he should. able to dream or not, he will have from hallucinations when drunk or high or whatever situation he's in and see their mauled bodies. he will always remember the room he spent beautiful moments with his family in as covered with the blood of said family.

this is basically self harm bby, stop it. he wants someone to confirm the truth, and is so horrible to himself to ask this to an android (what's thaaaaaaaat) who is unable to say something like "It wasn't your fault, he was to one to kill them. he's more powerful than you, you and your friends couldn't have done anything. he wanted you to give up on your life for someone you met from not even ten minutes. he had already killed them", the truth. he can only analyze the situation without any emotions.

little thing from the first scene at the bar, albatross making period jokes to his bro (he's about to die in his "bro" arms. he's about to gift him his bike as his last words. but he made a period joke)

(first chapter done and I'm done with myself) (and this light novel) (it's everything but light)

#stormbringer #bsd light novel #chuuya nakahara #bsd chuuya nakahara #the flags #bsd storm bringer #bsd #bungou stray dogs #random thoughts #shut up #love tumblr tags #soukoku #paul verlaine

[btr-rewatch]

BTR REWATCH MINI POST

Big Time Rush Season 1, Episode 8: “Big Time Break”

While I will not be covering this episode in full (I do have some gifsets from it, though), I do wish to ramble a bit about Kendall and Katie, because they've got some great moments together in it.

So. Shows that portray close and healthy sibling dynamics. Makes me insane, right? Right. Siblings who love and look out for each other. When each one manages to be The Protector of the other in some way, regardless of age difference. Brilliant stuff.

And for a show that so often relies on absurdity and just plain off-the-walls humor, it manages to have depth as well, if you're looking for it. Which I am. Why else would I have created this blog but to analyze this delightful series?

Kendall and Katie may possibly be one of my favorite fictional siblings. From the very first episode, there's such a strongly established bond that you can sense even though they really don't interact that much. You see it in the way that Kendall immediately (happily) complies with Katie's request to hear the "Giant Turd" song and when Katie is going on about how often Kendall sings—including when she can't sleep at night.

I won't go into all my thoughts and feelings on the Knight family situation and how a lot of who Kendall is was likely forced upon him when he became "man of the house," but...those thoughts are there. Might explore them at a later date in another post or in a fic, but anyway! As you make your way through the first season, their relationship solidifies more, and you see the warmth. The way that they look out for each other, and the fierceness with which they love each other. Katie is an independent, tough cookie, but she's still a little kid who sees her big brother as a role model and needs his guidance. And Kendall, being the guy who always tries to be there for others and set a good example, does a wonderful job of looking after her while also knowing when to step back. In a lot of ways, he's a combination of brother, father-figure, and friend, which I have OTHER thoughts about (because that is a lot of weight to carry around at 16).

Focusing in on "Big Time Break" though, Kendall's storyline deals with him still wanting to get to know and befriend Jo, even though she has a boyfriend. At one point, Katie overhears Jo on the phone and discovers that Jo doesn't have a boyfriend at all; she's been pretending to have one for fear of romantic pursuits interfering with her career. Perfectly understandable to want to prioritize in life, of course, but Katie is not happy to hear of the deception.

Jo has been LYING to her dear big brother?? Now, she could just sit back and not get involved. After all, Kendall and Jo are older and have their own confusing, teenage lives. It'd be okay if she wanted to shrug and let them figure it out themselves. It doesn't have to be her business.

But Katie Knight can't do that. She goes right over and pulls Kendall from his conversation in a way so very fitting of her character.

This is another aspect of their dynamic that I really like: Katie's complete lack of fear to take charge when needed. Kendall isn't listening to her? She just rolls her eyes and drags him by his ear. Katie Knight, expert on gettin' things done.

She then lets Kendall know that he's been getting played "like a fiddle." Not wanting Jo to be suspicious of their conversation, she cleverly advises Kendall to turn and give Jo the "my little sister is crazy gesture," to which I must include another gif because I love Kendall's execution. He's got the best expressions.

They end the conversation with Katie essentially challenging Kendall to do the right thing, which, in her mind, is to confront Jo and get the truth out of her.

And I love this for two reasons. 1. Katie's vaguely threatening reminder that she looks up to him and 2. They have an adorable handshake! When did they come up with this?? It's so sweet, and I love them.

Lol, so much for a "mini post," but oh well. Kendall and Katie are wonderful siblings, and it delights me. I'm glad they didn't go the route of them being the type of siblings who are always bickering with each other or who ignore each other/generally just don't care. Give me siblings who love each other, who get invested in each other's lives, and who have silly little secret handshakes.

#big time rush #btr #kendall knight #katie knight #btr rewatch #btr season 1

[fingersinsalad]

Big probably wrong ford ramble

I’ve done my first reading of The Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, essentially reading just to get a feel of the plot, vibe, and characters. I’m pretty fixated on Ford. Pretty interesting, ungodly relatable. I wrote this really big sort of psychoanalysis based on what I do know (which is the first book, one scene out of book 4, the ending of the entire series, a few radio clips, and about 5 out of the 6 1981 episodes.) So we’re not working with much. I could be wrong about everything but I thought you people would find my live-blogging interesting. Mistakes may be there. This is copied from my notes app and roughly edited. Take a shot every time I say “it seems”! Spoilers. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I feel like ford is gonna have some sort of touch starved/emotionally repressed, whatnot situation. I feel like this is going to tie in with the Love Me Tender. I feel as though spending 15 years on earth and missing out on so many not-earth years is gonna fuck any non-earth person up. Also, all his writing was just cut to shit it seems.

Listening to the radio show moreso solidifies his personality for me because when I first read the book, especially after seeing him in the show, it seemed like he was just jolly and whimsical with an alcohol problem. However, he may just be putting on a jolly front to get things out of people. After everything, his introduction looks to confirm that. There is a lack of self preservation at times. It seems like when he is by himself he really just does not care all that much about his own well being, as the drunken nights wandering in the streets is not something someone that cares too much about themselves does, I imagine. Back to the radio topic, I read lines far differently in the book than i heard in the radio, just in general. It wasnt because of what he said, but how he said it. I feel like the radio show solidifies that layer of interpretation.

For instance, i know this is far later, but when i read part of the 4th book and ford was talking about the guide to that woman, it sounded more like he was into her than the work. In the radio, it is clear he is more concerned about his writing. 

The lack of self preservation is most defnitely confirmed when he laughs at the world's destruction. Something about him feels like he just knows what is going to happen, and therefore everything is just an ironic joke. He could also have one big regret in his life which he feels led up to all these moments, which i would not doubt. He is not the first sad goofy alcoholic i have read about. 

I know this is not particularly deep or anything special, but those are my thought so far. I finished the book and i am going to start it over with the online version so i can read all of them at once. I really like ford and zaphods interactions, like they matter to each other. It's nice seeing ford being concerned or at least curious rather than entirely aloof as characters like him can often be

Overall I've realized there's a lot of stuff i missed or glossed over since my first reading was just to get a feel for the book. This time, knowing what is going to happen, i think more will make sense or at least be known. Despite not thinking the ford representation is the best, i really do like the show and what they did! I especially love ford and arthurs dynamic and arthurs personality in general. It's unfortunate that he didn't have much of the charm in the book, but i can understand why. He's there to keep the story going. Afterall, it is a British comedy and they are not exactly known for their debilitating sadness. Ford probably has commitment issues. Fork found in kitchen. He's so subterranean homesick alien by Radiohead.

#Ford prefect #arthur dent #zaphod beeblebrox #the hitchhikers guide to the galaxy #hitchhiker's guide #h2g2 #hhgttg #1981

[scattered-winter]

yeah i’ll bite what’s ur more correct hoo? 👀

for friends who have not yet read the series this is gonna spoil pretty much ,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,, everything. heroes of olympus, trials of apollo, etc etc so on and so forth. i am full of Opinions and by god's big green tits i'm gonna make them Heard.

alright listen. I have so much beef with heroes of olympus because like. the things it could've been. I'll list all my grievances first to get it all out of my system before telling you about my more correct version. if you'd like to skip the salt and get to the good bits, scroll down to the bolded text xox

gaea was a weak-ass antagonist with no real motivation outside of "she's trying to destroy humanity because she's evil." arguably, kronos was the same way, which when you look at him from a mythological standpoint it makes sense because his whole thing is trying to overthrow the gods (and really, the same could be argued for gaea; mythologically, she tends to cause some shit on occasion). but kronos had the lesser gods/demigods on his side, which added a fascinating aspect to the conflict in the og series, especially since, in the end, percy realized that they were right. everyone who had fought for kronos had justification for it. the gods used them, abused them, and abandoned them, and they were tired of being tools. and percy realized that, and changed the status quo so it would never happen again.

fast forward to heroes of olympus. gaea and the giants are destroying the world...........because they want to. there were no other arguments. there were no other motivations/antagonists to add a more interesting aspect to it. it was a classic good vs evil conflict with little to no grayness which,,,,isn't a bad thing, but it just wasn't as compelling.

camp jupiter. boyyyyyyyy howdy do i have a ramble for that. it's so insane to me that the camp was defended by kids and teenagers when an entire city full of adult demigods was literally just a short hike away from the camp itself ????? like. I get it was because camp jupiter was meant to be camp half-blood's opposite force or whatever but come on. one could argue that camp half-blood is similar because chiron is training kids to go on quests, but like......that's his mythological role. in the myths, that's what chiron does. and without an established city/safe place other than a summer camp, the greek demigods are child soldiers by necessity, but the roman demigods are child soldiers for literally no reason other than that the plot needs them to be. which ,, i'm not saying that's bad. i'm just saying it's not as good as it could be.

also the 7!!!!!!!! THE 7!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! honestly, I think their whole deal is boiled down to a classic case of TELLING, not showing. we were told all throughout the series that the 7 are all best friends ,, a family, even. we were consistently told that. but there was very little actual instances of this being shown. group interactions were uncommon, and relationship dynamics were limited almost exclusively to romantic relationships or surface-level friendships that were explored only as an opportunity for quips and funny moments, but nothing deeper than that (percy and jason, for example). even the romantic relationship that preceded the series, percabeth, was broken down into a blander, flatter version from before, and both characters suffered for it. piper/jason was also flat and flavorless for most of the series, and frank/hazel is just. a mess. a 13 year old dating a 16 year old is squeamish in any context, and throw leo into the mix to make a weird, unnecessary love triangle, and it's just. even more of a mess. throw in the fact that every single character was motivated purely by romance and romantic relationships, and that every character ended up in a romantic relationship, and well. y'all know I'm aroace, so that's fairly self-explanatory. nothing worse than a piece of media claiming to be found family but focusing only on romance. kill die die die maim tear.

also about the 7, but it seemed to me that.......rick was trying to mimic percy's inner monologue with all of them--the sarcasm, the dark humor, etc. we all fell in love with percy in the og series, and I think he was trying to make us like the new characters in the same way, but in doing so he just made them all mini percys while also sandpapering the real percy. give each member of the 7 a different sense of humor/personality is what I'm saying. come on.

calypso. the only reason she was even in the books was to give leo a love interest, because apparently the single worst thing that can happen to a character is to not have someone to kiss (sarcasm intended). the gods not freeing her from the island just threw literally everything won from the og series out with the trash, and like. we know the gods are just Like That sometimes but look me in the eyes and tell me percy jackson, the boy who had just fought for so long and lost so much to get the gods' heads out of their asses, would just assume they followed through and not even check to make sure that another person wronged by the gods, someone he was very close to, got freed from her prison. that's right, you can't. my percy would never.

in that same vein: caleo. not only was the relationship kinda shaky in the first place because it was only there to give leo someone to kiss, it's also....not very good. calypso spends all her time belittling, talking down to, and sometimes even hitting leo, a character who canonically grew up in an abusive household. idk about y'all but.....an abused character already being thrown into a relationship for no reason, and then having that relationship be abusive?? and portrayed as the height of romance????? not a good vibe. I also really hated how, on top of all that, leo left his found family (canonically the only people who have ever made him feel loved/like he belongs) to go travel the world with calypso. which. another classic instance of familial/platonic relationships always, constantly being on a tier lower than romantic relationships. and y'all know how I feel about that.

the poc characters. I'm not the best resource on this one, since I'm not a poc, but there are plenty of people in minorities who have spoken out on this point, and I urge you to listen to them, because those arguments are all valid ones. (here is a good post that provides a good overview). I also remember seeing a really good post about piper's indigenous heritage as well, but unfortunately it's been lost to the void of tumblr.

aphrodite cabin. rick riordan seems to have this complex where the only female characters he can write about are tomboyish, tough, and badass. which isn't bad, of course, but it becomes a problem when all the more feminine female characters are portrayed exclusively as bullies/wimps. smfh there's more than one type of character in this world, richard

octavian. I get it, I hated him, everyone hated him, but I really can't deny that he had the potential for a compelling story. being manipulated by the oracle spirits into playing right into gaea's hands????? it COULD have been sooooo good, but octavian had hardly any development/focus, and I think him being manipulated only came up once or twice. storywriting equivalent of "he a little confused but he got the spirit."

now, for my more correct version :]

gaea's whole deal is completely different. instead of destroying humanity just because she Can, gaea is destroying the gods because she's furious and grieving her children, the titans. kronos was chopped into pieces and cast into eternal oblivion by the gods and demigods, and the other titans were forced back into subjugation, and gaea, who's been dealing with the gods' shit for thousands of years, has had enough*. so she rallies her other children, the giants, to bring down the gods and western civilization to avenge the millennia of heartbreak and injustice. which, yeah, fair enough. the gods suck and they've done some shitty things.

*this was actually touched on in the books when piper was using her charmspeak on gaea during the final battle. and I don't own physical copies of the books and tried everywhere to find the exact quote but it eluded me so I'll do my best to paraphrase from memory, but piper was sympathizing with all the grief and loss gaea has suffered over the centuries. tartarus banished, kronos defeated twice, etc etc. and I feel like that had potential for gaea's motivations but it was literally only brought up that one time smh

bonus points if there was some nuance to both sides. a few monsters who fight alongside the protagonists because they rely on western civilization just as much as the gods/demigods do, or even some gods or demigods who fight alongside gaea for one reason or another (like octavian, if he had been better developed). something to add some new facets to the conflict, because that was part of what made the conflict against kronos so damn compelling.

the 7 would be a found family FIRST, and a group of individuals w romantic relationships SECOND, if at all. percabeth can stay, as long as it's. actually the percabeth we all know and love, not whatever the fuck we actually had. piper/jason is on thin fucking ice, and only happens with the caveat that both their characterizations are my more correct versions (see below). hazel/frank is NOT a thing. piper, annabeth, and hazel have on-page interactions and friendships, and they have conversations about shared trauma and bonding over their common pasts in abusive households and shit like that, instead of talking about boys every fucking time. there are complex and multifaceted interpersonal relationships within the entire 7, and each friendship/dynamic has a chance to shine.

jason and percy. oughhhhhhhhh I have sooo many thoughts about them. they're character foils. percy had to fight for respect. jason had to fight to be treated normally. they're sons of arguably the most powerful gods of all time. they're opposites in nearly every way, but in the very same breath they're mirror reflections of each other*. I'm all for them being best friends, but the "sharing a braincell" himbo thing they had going on? that was played off purely for humor? hell no. they have a very deep and complicated friendship because they recognize themselves in the other and yet they're so completely different that they're on opposite ends of a spectrum. sure, they can hang out and have fun, but at their core, they have both a deep-seated understanding for each other but their personalities also grate a bit because they're so completely different. maybe there's a sideplot of them learning how to get along/be amicable with each other because they're both very traumatized TEENAGERS with so much pressure and stress to deal with, which, combined with the inherent complications of their relationship already, would make them a powder keg ready to blow. and I'm here for that. *the groundwork for their relationship being "two sides of the same coin" was already laid with hera switching them, and even with some characters stating how similar they were in some ways, but of course it was never expanded on so that's why it's here in the more correct version :]

piper. sooooooooo many complicated feelings about her. at first she was a generic Not Like Other Girls type, which. felt soooo cheap to me and is probably why piper/jason felt so. meh. because they were BOTH very flat and one dimensional at first. but in my more correct version, piper and drew were able to bond over being underestimated/ignored as daughters of aphrodite and as women of color, and I also hold the concept of piper being more feminine soooo close to my chest. I love characters who are so tough and badass who aren't allergic to dresses and makeup. her sexuality is also explored/brought up before she suddenly has a girlfriend.

jason doesn't DIE right when I start to actually LIKE him. smh (I'm sorry but it felt SOOO cheap to me. like it was purely for shock value. killing and biting). I do, however, love the concept trials of apollo introduced of jason being much more relaxed and comfortable with himself both as a greek-leaning demigod and as a kid who no longer had to deal with all the weight and pressure of being a Leader (tm). and jason acting more like a greek demigod vs percy acting more like a roman demigod can be another aspect of them being mirror reflections of each other. as percy begins to pick up more roman traits (because i LOVE to study how trauma/circumstances can change a character), jason starts to pick up more greek traits. it's another facet to their very complicated, very deep relationship with each other.

i ALSO love the concept of jason having a villain arc. he was a mirror to luke in so many ways; child soldier, abandoned by his godly parent, huge responsibilities on his shoulders, etc. I'd even argue jason had it worse than luke since he was a son of jupiter and thus had the constant pressure accompanying that. I think he deserved to go a little apeshit instead of that "high priest of the gods" bullshit

leo started out as my favorite, but as the series progressed, his character development stayed right where it was in the lost hero. I would have loved to see him change and grow as a person; maybe having a sokka-style arc where he grows out of his misogyny and sexism, and also gains some maturity (I liked his jokes, but come ON.) he would also have a different sense of humor, because as I said earlier it felt like rick was trying to make everyone into a mini-percy. I would also have loved to see a character not end up in a romantic relationship, since leo canonically had a lot of complicated feelings about family; it would have been great catharsis for me, someone who also has a lot of complicated feelings about family, to see a character I could relate to be able to find a family all of his own, with people he genuinely cared about and who loved him back.

hazel gets more development in how she was literally from the past. she died. I want more development and focus on that smh!!!!!!! how much is different in the modern age?? how many times does she walk down the street and do a double take because something's so completely different??? how many nightmares does she have about dying???????

frank stays chubby throughout the entire series. he does Not have a sudden glowup where he's No Longer Fat. he also doesn't date a 13 year old godbless

NICO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! nico. first of all, him being gay is built up from day fucking one. maybe not said outright for a while, but it's at least CODED. it's not suddenly flung out of nowhere. for that matter, him being forcibly outed against his will is talked about more!!!!!!!!!!!! yes, jason was probably one of the best people he could have been forcibly outed to, but STILL !!! the trauma of having the choice taken away from you!!! especially for someone like nico, who was 1) raised in the 1940s where being gay was practically a death sentence and 2) sooo slow to trust. I need him to have some focus on that shit because it was fucked!!!!!!

in that same vein, solangelo is sooo much different. will solace gets some characterization in the pjo series to build him up beforehand, and he and nico interact a few times on-page in pjo as well to give their relationship some foundation as opposed to just. throwing them together for no reason. I would've really loved seeing them working together during the battle of manhattan!!! nico canonically has an admiration for will's bravery during the battle, and I would've loved to actually. ya know. see them work together on the page. I also think their dynamic has SOO much more to it than "sunshine bf/goth bf" that everyone+rick have turned them into. one of them is the son of death. one of them is a healer. will's probably lost so many of his friends because he was unable to save them. nico's lost so much of himself. they're soooooooo <333 by the time blood of olympus rolls around, they're already good friends, and almost losing each other in the battle only brings them even closer <3

annabeth and percy are still the same fucking couple/characters that i fell in love with in the og series, not the watered down romance we got

the final battle is much longer with much higher stakes (I want the camps having 24 hour watches while waiting for the enemy to attack again!! I want makeshift hospitals!!!! I want!!!!! a war!!! not a battle!!!!!!!!!)

the greeks are actually. taken seriously. on god. they're a highly competent force of fighters, not a bunch of immature idiots. rick riordan i am biting you (derogatory)

#i got kinda sleepytired but <333 here's my more correct version of everything #i might rb with an addition later because this is a Constant Thing in my head. #heroes of olympus #percy jackson #leo valdez #jason grace #nico di angelo #will solace #percy jackson and the olympians #piper mcclean #frank zhang #hazel levesque #annabeth chase #also you'll just have to trust that the solangelo in my head is SOOOO compelling and good #but i ran out of energy to fully express all my thoughts on it #but im right. you know i am.

[inknopewetrust]

Fanfiction Recommendations! As the summer comes to a close, I want to highlight some of my favorite authors and their beautiful talent with all of you.

Take a moment, read their work, and support them by commenting and reblogging—all to let them know their work matters and their contributions to their respective communities are valued and heard. Heed all warnings before consuming content, the authors and myself are not liable for the content you interact with.

Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses // @queers-gambit [Eddie Munson x Reader]

I am normally a streamlined reader. One of those who doesn’t venture into supernatural, folklore-esq fics but something spurred me to read this and all I can say is that it was perfect. There are few words beyond perfection to describe this work. It is simply phenomenal. I never wanted it to end; the writing was beautifully heartbreaking and lovely, and the emotions—God! The emotions! I have re-read this multiple times and will be reading it until the end of my days. I only wish I could be as brilliant a writer as you. Thank you for sharing your gift with us.

For you, I’ll Go into the Woods // @aniqua [Eddie Munson x Reader]

If you continue reading this rec list, you’ll also see that Aniqua is in the masterlist category too. She is simply amazing. Every work she’s ever produced has been excellent. A true, exquisite talent that I am so happy to call my mutual. Not all writers take time and care into how their readers are represented, but Aniqua shows that with impeccable kindness and strength because in the end, all we want for ourselves is to be the best version we can be—and well, she writes that. Aniqua, you are the best. Your writing transcends from the page and into our hearts. We are so lucky that you continue to write and produce work that we love. Thank you for sharing your gift with us.

My Favorite Henderson // @luvfae [Eddie Munson x Reader]

Listen, I love Henderson!Readers. I do. Plain and simple and very much a fantasy because 1. Dustin is my fav and 2. I adore Eddie. This series is fantastic. It’s long (which is an absolute plus), well written, and totally engaging with great dialogue and a really wonderful representation of Eddie as a character beyond the scope of what we know of him. I tagged the whole masterlist of the series for you to check out—you can’t stop at one, you need to read them all and stay up all night because you can’t stop reading it. Fae, thank you for sharing this with us.

Detention // @mycurrent-hyperfixation [Eddie Munson x Reader]

While I like the good ‘ol canon fic like everyone else, imagining characters outside what we’ve seen is so interesting and goddammit I love this one. First, Eddie would definitely be stuck in detention more often than not because he’s a non-conformist and that bugs teachers; second, he would absolutely fall in love with a student he wouldn’t expect to see in there. This fic is so cute and wonderfully crafted. This author knows how well to write Eddie and the kind of character he is supposed to be—which makes all the contexts that they put him in all the better to be read. Thank you for sharing this with us.

High School Sweethearts // @uselesssomebody [Eddie Munson x Reader]

This is a [ongoing] fic series that just started and I cannot wait to see where this goes. I love the dynamic–Eddie on the outskirts of society while Reader is woven within it trying to find an out. It’s got that enemies to lovers, faking dating trope that we all love and let me tell you, one ‘chapter’ in and this author has me in the palm of their hand. Their username is uselesssomebody and while I don’t know the context for it, I can tell you all (who decide to venture this far and actually read everything I wrote) that this author is far from useless and is certainly not just somebody. They’ve created conflict and empathy and the foundation for the story in a few thousand words while understanding the motivations of reader and Eddie so well. I cannot say enough, and maybe for the second time now, that I am jittery thinking about how this story will progress and I hope all of you will join me in enjoying this journey. I am simply smitten. Thank you for sharing this with us.

Night Moves // @eagerbby [Eddie Munson x Reader]

Oof did I love this. I’m a sucker for exes to lovers and the way Nicole wrote this is not only a beautiful, comprehensive story but the innate ability to be a storyteller in the most amazing sense makes this fic a perfect combination. Reader and Eddie have a realistic, palpable connection and the angst that slowly evolves into the revelations and resolution of the story is just fucking wonderful. And I don’t know at what point I begin feeling like a broken record, but there are phenomenal writers on tumblr (as well as Ao3–in particular) and being able to discover them through fandom is a great honor. They understand characters and their motivations (dare I say) better than the original authors or creators and that says something about the creativity and intellect of them. Nicole is one of those writers. You will also find her masterlist under the ‘Masterlist’ section of this fic rec list because it’s just that fantastic. Thank you for sharing your gift with us.

Spring Break // @strangermarvelss [Eddie Munson x Reader]

This fic. I want more! I want MORE! Enemies to lovers besties and goddamn does Sava do this well. I’ve read this three times because it makes me feel something and that is a testament to her writing. It’s fantastic and I love that authors are taking Eddie and adapting him into different types of scenarios. Like sure, is Eddie a golden retriever type who’s got big brown eyes and is a softy inside? Yes. BUT! Eddie could easily be irked by someone who doesn’t mesh with him in the way others have. Having Eddie in an enemies to lovers situation with a reader who is in the fruity four’s circle is just *chef’s kiss.* So, one, thank you for writing this and I, like many others, would love to see a continuation of this dynamic because you write it incredibly well. Second, thank you for sharing this with us because if it hadn’t been for you posting this, I wouldn’t have known what it felt like to love a fic so much.

Never Have I Ever // @me-gongoga [Eddie Munson x Reader]

Angsty fics that resolve with fluffy romance are bloody brilliant. They can make you feel ten different emotions if it is written well and shit, I’m here to tell you that yes, this fic is written exceptionally well. Not only do we feel every emotion and slight second hand embarrassment from the question Eddie thinks he has stumped everyone with, we also feel so profoundly rewarded by the end. UGH the satisfaction of that is amazing. As a reader who is getting older and who has been doing this *thing* for a decade, I adore when I come across stories that touch me in ways I wish I knew were possible ten years ago. So, thank you. Thank you for sharing this with us and creating feelings that are realistic and sound to the point where I kick my feet and giggle at myself. You make me feel sixteen again.

Right to the Bone // @havecourage-darling [Eddie Munson x Reader]

This fucking fic blew my nonexistent socks off. I loved it so much. Not only is it more than one part, it is incredibly written and the characters are wonderfully crafted. V, it’s not enough to simply recommend this story because I need to scream about it from the rooftops. Lovers to exes to ??? Exactly. Exactly what I’m looking for and because we are all simps for Eddie, only happy, complicated ends for this man and V gives that to us. It’s also not short. I love when fics are long so knowing that I’ll be reading it for more than a few minutes is the best, exciting feeling to have before actually jumping in. Thank you for writing this and sharing it with us. I hope those of you who take the time to read it simply adore it as much as I do.

I am a top gun girlie simp. It’s not something I will apologize for.

Bad Habit // @seasonsbloom [Jake Seresin x Reader]

There is no reasonable place on earth for me to sit and enjoy something this much. One, I love Jake. He’s exactly the guy I shouldn’t like but I do anyway and you know what? Fine. If he was real I’d hate him but I’d love to hate him… get the gist? This little series is amazing. Great writing, great use of the characters, and totally feels in canon too. All the top gun writers are great—and it’s fucking wonderfully long! I love long fics because I write long fics and to see other authors embracing the wc’s over 6 thousand words is amazing. Thank you, May, for taking the time to write this and sharing your talent with us.

Small Doses // @purelyfiction [Jake Seresin x Reader]

Again, here with another Jake fic but let’s be honest, this whole section will be Jake x Readers and so long as these fantastic writers continue to bless us with their work, it will a solely Jake list. Knockout. Not the call sign, but the code name for the fic. It’s a fucking knockout of a fanfic and I’m so happy to have come across it. It’s sexy and makes my heart do leaps because it has snark and steam and love and thrill. Hit the goddamn trifecta here, Ashley. Thank you for sharing this work with us.

Save a Jet, Ride a Pilot // @bradshaw-fanclub [Jake Seresin x Reader]

Please. The name for this fic alone should make you want to read it. There is a commonality between many Jake fics and I’m not mad about it (the “you hate him but love him at the same time” trope) and this fic… this fic does it brilliantly. I literally feel like kicking my feet from under by comforter because it’s just so fucking good. I signed my name with a heart in Hangman’s whorehouse just for this fic and I don’t regret it. Won’t apologize either. Thank you, Hayley, for sharing your talent with us.

Wine-Eyed // @whirlybirbs [James Norrington x Reader; POTC]

I used to sell myself as solely a Will Turner kind of gal but the older I got, I realized that Norrington was totally my vibe. I will die on that hill now. So, as any sane person does, I read all the fanfics I can and when a new one comes along, I read it, I love it, and birbs—listen… you knocked it out of the park. Absolutely wonderful, phenomenal, brilliant, amazing, life changing, awesome-ness. You keep this small fandom living for content alive. Thank you for sharing your work with us.

Ride or Die // @writefightandflightclub [Santiago Garcia x Reader; Triple Frontier]

I am 90% sure I’ve recommended at least one fic, if not the whole masterlist, of Luna’s before and every time I’m looking for something good, I come back to older fandoms I’ve been in and find new or past fics that I adore. Santi is a whole man of mixed emotions and complications that just make you want to say “I can fix him.” Ride or Die is that. Ride or Die is Santi at his antithesis and Reader being at the center of everything. I love it. And I highly suggest if you read this one, you’ll love all the fics that they’ve ever written because it’s not just Santi but many of Oscars other characters that are written perfectly. Thank you for continuing to write and share these wonderful stories with us.

Hot Summer Nights, Mid July // @luxurybeskar [Johnny Soprano x Reader; MSoN]

I went back through my archives to see what fics I may have forgotten to recommend in my last list and this is definitely one that I should not have looked over. Actually, probably all of Thea’s fics should be on here too. I love the Sopranos and while The Many Saints of Newark wasn’t the best film in the universe, the cast was sizzling and JB’s Johnny was certainly one of them. Thea writes him so well and self-indulgent too which is the best kind of writing tbh. If you enjoy this one, check out Thea’s other Johnny works and other writings because the catalogue is vast my friends. Thank you for sharing this with us.

Aniqua’s Main Masterlist // @aniqua

From Moon Knight to Shadow and Bone to Stranger Things, Aniqua’s writing will take you from universe to universe and leave you in love. Take the time to explore the masterlist she has created for all of her works because they are absolutely terrific.

Masterlist // @eagerbby

Everything on this masterlist is gold. It’s slowly growing with more content every week and I seriously cannot wait to see what else this author produces. Please, if you’d be so inclined, check out this author because their work is great and just like Aniqua’s work above, they’ll transport you to a little island of happiness for as long as you stay.

Masterlist // @masterofmunson

From Eddie to Peter Parker, everything is amazing. Amanda knows how to write these characters that I’m sure she could do it in her sleep, but I couldn’t pick one that I loved more than the others so I just smacked the whole masterlist on here for everyone to enjoy. Enjoy it, dear readers. They’re phenomenal and deserve all the love and support.

Um. How did we get here?

I’m a writer too, I guess… and I’d like to plug my own work—because Jesus Christ if no one else will, then I’ll do it myself! My name is Kelsey, I’m 24, and have been writing and reading fanfics for nearly a decade. Below are a couple of fics (and my masterlist) that I’m immensely proud of. It takes a lot for me to admit that I like my work—and certainly not all of it—but there are a few that I can’t help but love.

Thanks for all the support. Go check out the authors above and show them unconditional tumblr love.

Masterlist // @inknopewetrust (aka me!)

This masterlist contains every written fic I’ve ever posted on tumblr. You can find some of the work on Ao3 and different fandoms on my Wattpad.

Exile // @inknopewetrust (still me) [Darkling x Reader; Shadow and Bone]

This is a short series based in the shadow and bone world. Darkling x Fem!Reader that kind of set me on a path here on tumblr. It was the first mainstream series I’d ever done and the attention brought to it was very kind. I am very proud of this fic. I think it represents me as a writer very well and I was able to explore different themes of sensuality, romance, heartbreak, pain, and hatred, all in one.

The Hideout | It’s You and Me | Secret | Electric Music | and The Denim Vest // @inknopewetrust (oh yeah, still me) [Eddie Munson x Reader]

These are all of my Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader fics. Eddie is a comfort character. He’s the guy I would have been crushing on in high school and just like millions of other people on the planet, completely swept me off my feet. A few of these fics contain scenarios deeply personal to me—conversations I’ve had, situations I’ve been in—and to be able to therapeutically write about them through fiction has been a great pleasure. I’ll always believe Eddie to be one of my favorite characters to write for. He’s wonderfully odd—just the way we all like him.

Resolutions // @inknopewetrust (do you wanna guess?) [Marc Spector x Reader; Moon Knight]

I grew up loving Marvel. After a very traumatic experience writing for the fandom, I decided to take a step back a few years ago but I found a connection with Marc and Steven. There was an acceptance that I hadn’t been privy too, so it makes me incredibly happy to have extended my hand back into the pond. I am proud of this little series because I feel it dives into the complexities of what it means to be a partner—a loving, committed person when so much is going on. I hope that shines through for you too.

Volition // @inknopewetrust (Mhm… me) [Rafael Barba x Reader; L&O: SVU]

Rafael Barba is my favorite SVU character. Maybe that’s because I’m a Broadway girlie and RE is an absolute legend, but Barba is a whole deal by himself. I wanted to write a story aligned with canon and this is what I came up with. A complicated, dueling interest fic with a sequel that leaves lingering potential for the hypothetical future to be happy. I love Barba; he deserved better in the end.

#x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #marc spector x reader #rafael barba x reader #James norrington x reader #Johnny soprano x reader #Santiago Garcia x reader #Jake seresin x reader #top gun maverick #top gun #triple frontier #moon knight #shadow and bone #darkling x reader #x female reader

[fanfic-lover-girl]

Yuma & Astral > Yugi & Atem. Fact

As usual, my disclaimer. Yugioh DM and Yugioh Zexal were the only two Yugioh series I watched completely. I watched DM in the dub and Zexal in the sub. If I had known about the sub as a kid, I would have watched DM in sub :'(. But I was not watching the whole series again. I have watched several sub clips though so I have a fair idea of the Yugioh DM sub.

Now that I have listed my credentials...let me start what may be a hot take.

I love both partner pairings though I like Yugi & Atem more just because I was never a huge Astral fan. But objectively, Yuma & Astral are the superior pair when I look at their story arcs.

The problem with Yugi & Atem is that Atem feels more like the main protag than Yugi. It was not until the Memory Arc during the Yugi vs Bakura duel that it hit home that Yugi was meant to be the main protag. Sure, Yugi has his moments but Atem does all the heavy lifting. Yugi and Atem had great teamwork in the Pegasus duel and it was epic to witness. But otherwise, Yugi does not really have any memorable duels until the last arc. Yugi only duels when Atem is unavailable (eg. in the Bandit Keith duel) or for emotional duels (eg. possessed Joey). Atem is the guy who ultimately defeats the main players: Bakura, Pegasus, Kaiba, Marik, and Dartz. Yugi is basically Atem's support guy and is delegated to the background. Which is why I was never a huge fan of their ceremonial duel. It felt totally unearned to me. First, Yugi has the advantage of knowing Atem's deck while Atem has little knowledge of his. Frankly, the ceremonial duel is quite forgettable and underwhelming. The main moments were Yugi defeating the Egyptian gods and that last symbolic move with the Ressurection of the Dead card. I like Yugi but he never felt like the main character of the story. Atem fought all his battles for him. When things got tough, Atem took over and Yugi took the backseat and got all the glory. Yugi deserved better and I wish his title of King of Games felt more earned in the narrative because Yugi is canonically a prodigy gamer too. In the dub, Yami's thoughts while dueling sound like Yugi so it makes it appear that Yugi is contributing. It's a nice touch but hardly enough to compensate, especially since the sub does not have anything like it as well to bolster Yugi.

Now Yuma and Astral. Thank goodness I found the sub. Dub Zexal is annoying to watch. Yuma is one of my fav Yugioh protag. Honestly, a lot of times I have Yuma as my favourite. Yuma's development was incredible and he is unlike the others who were just naturally amazing duelists. Because Yuma started off as a bad duelist, he relied a lot on Astral. However, what makes the dynamic between Yuma and Astral more interesting than Yugi & Atem is that they are separate entities during the duel so we get to see their interactions. So instead of just possessing Yuma's body, we see Astral coaching Yuma and even some amusing situations such as when Astral played reverse psychology on Yuma when the kid was being stubborn and refusing to listen to him. As Yuma became better, he became less dependent on Astral and we even see Astral congratulating Yuma on creative plays that impressed him. Then we see Yuma and Astral as equals when they fuse with the power of Zexal (cool power by the way **squeal**...although it can be too OP lol). Because of this, I always saw Yuma as the main character of the story, despite Astral's amnesia driving the plot. We see Yuma defeat the villains, sometimes without Astral. Yuma's rivals are HIS, not just Astral's. We see Yuma and Astral working together on screen. We see that Yuma and Astral's goals begin to conflict when Yuma befriends the Barians who are the enemies of Astral world. Therefore, Yuma's ceremonial duel with Astral had so much more buildup and was way more climactic. Yuma grew as a duelist to the point where he could defeat his teacher and step up to save the world from his best friend if need be. All with a smile on his face. I don't care what the Zexal haters say! Yuma is such an awesome character, despite being one of the youngest protags.

Both ceremonial duels have heartwarming endings. But I think Yuma and Astral had a better dynamic than Yugi and Atem. Yugi's only moment against a main villain was in the Duelist Kingdom arc but he never got a moment to really shine after that until literally the last minute.

#yugioh zexal #yugioh duel monsters #yugioh dm #yuma tsukumo #astral #yugi mutou #pharaoh atem #yami yugi #spirit partners #yuma is a great yugioh protag #probably one of the best #yuma & astral > yugi & atem #ceremonial duels #yugioh #anti yugioh zexal dub #pro yuma tsukumo #yugi was a kind of weak protagonist and needed more duel screentime #this is my opinion #but feel free to reblog with any rebuttals #yugi muto #yugioh atem

[vyladromeave]

7 and 18? :]

07. best dynamic in the series? like, whenever these characters are onscreen your brain just explodes?

APHMAU AND VYLAD!!!!! VYLAD AND LAURANCE!!!!!!!!!!! THEYRE SOOOOOO GOOD. They don't get a lot of screentime, because Vylad doesn't get a lot of screentime, but when they do its almost always written well!! That's a lot to ask of MCD! Vylad being quiet and introspective, but also inherently tied to basically every plot/lore element MCD has to offer does a lot for his onscreen (and offscreen) dynamics. This reaally shines through in his interactions with Aphmau and Laurance.

And LAURANCE AND APHMAU!!!!!! Maybe its because they have sooooo much screentime, arguably the most any pair in the series has, but up until S2 starts shitting itself, their dynamic is SOOOOOO. listen to me. listen.

Aphmau is the person Vylad accidentally created. Laurance is the person he failed, the unplanned sacrifice he was forced to take in a plan that was supposed to only hurt himself. His life is a spiral of guilt. Everything is his fault, and everything has to happen the way it happened, or it would be even worse.

Aphmau is the person who, even before he became a Shadowknight, pulled Laurance out of the darkness. He loves her always, even if she can't return things quite the same, and he's fine with that, he knows he isn't owed anything. Laurance is the split second of hope in Vylad's 200 years of literal torture in hell. A split second of kindness in a life (and death) full of people who simply hate him, use him, or do not care about him.

Vylad is the person Laurance failed. Vylad doesn't see it that way.

Vylad is Aphmau's one hint at a past, the one person who might know more about her than she could know about herself. The one person who's been there since the beginning. She doesn't know him, until she does, and then she knows him too well, more than anyone else knows him. He knows her well, but not in person. He can only make guesses about all the things she wants to know. She already knows too much, but he struggles to hide anything from her, because its his fault she exists. Because its his fault he exists, because he knows her so well, he feels like he can tell her more.

Laurance and Vylad will throw their lives away for the things that matter, and when they're at their lowest, they'll do it for the things that don't matter too. And they're stuck looking to each other for hints on how to be people. They see a hope in each other that they can't see in themselves, but they don't know how to say it.

And the three of them can't all exist in the same room together, because if they do, the universe explodes.

18. is there anything about the fandom you dislike?

smiles. there is so so much and i think saying all of it would get me killed. Admittedly I do think fan spaces for mcd have calmed down SIGNIFICANTLY over time. I've been here since S1, I've seen some shit. But for what it's worth, people are less actively gross in full view of me than they were in the past. Likely a side effect of mcd/Aphmau rp content as a whole being dead for multiple years, but you know what I'll take it.

I still think a lot of people's critical thinking skills could use some fucking Work. I still see so much apologism for villainous characters across mcd (and Aphmau's works as a whole tbh) just because they're charismatic and hot lol. it gets REALLY telling when you compare how people treat Zane in comparison to like, Michi.

There's no harm in liking villainous characters. There's no harm in liking charismatic villains. But you have to admit that thats what they are. I personally think people like Zane and Gene are really interesting, they're decently well-written, their motivations are intriguing, I cannot deny that the way their actions were presented was often cool from a narrative standpoint, and if you find them hot then whatever. As characters, I like them a lot!! But when you consistently start talking about shit like [CLEARLY VILLAINOUS CHARACTER] isn't actually evil™ hes a soft boy™ he's silly he doesn't know what he's doing™ he just made some bad choices™ its not his fault™ he would've made a great dad/lover/brother/etc™ he never meant to hurt anyone™ he wouldn't have hurt anyone if circumstances were better™ oh torture is sexy actually™ you need to step back. and examine your actions. extremely quickly.

Anyone would do different things under different circumstances. Why is it different for them? These people aren't your next Zuko. It isn't your job to fix them. You are not immune to propaganda. You are falling for the charismatic villain boy act, and your life would be a lot better if you didn't.

(ask prompts from here!)

#be normal in the notes or i turn reblogs off ok? #“zane is a villain actually” shouldn't be a controversial take. and yet. #mcd #mcd meta #ask

[comicbookhyperfixationtime]

Uncanny X-Men #194- Juggernaut's Back in Town

Last Issue Recap: The team fought Thunderbird's identical brother and his Hellion friends in a US base, tanked whatever remained of their superhero credibility and then proceeded to just let Thunderbird and the Hellions waltz on back to Emma Frost without any repercussions.

This cover is pretty cool, I wouldn’t say the composition is fantastic but it makes it pretty clear what this issue is going to be about (a big ol’ heavy hitter slap fight) and Rogue with Nightcrawler and Colossus’ powers is intriguing.

The issue doesn't start with a fight though, it starts with Juggernaut having a friendly conversation with the most oblivious cop in New York

Yessir, I'm sure the giant hunk of muscle wider than he is tall couldn't possibly have anything to do with the recently escaped super criminal. 10/10 polic-ing.

Juggernaut watches some news crew give exposition for new readers on him (there's plenty of convoluted backstory but all you really need to know is he's the Juggernaut, bitch) and his recent appearances in other comics (shameless plugins). They also remind us how the X-men and Spiderman (who was Juggernaut's latest foe) are Feared and Hated By the World They Have Sworn to Protect. The popularity of a Marvel character in-universe is indirectly proportional to their popularity IRL, thus why Wonderman is highly successful film star.

Cut to the X-men in the Currently-Not-Destroyed Xavier's School upstate waking up and not giving a singular fuck about one of their super criminals on the loose.

He stayed up all night watching old swashbuckler films ahhhh he's such a dork I love him! (Thirsty Sidenote: this is I think the first time Kurt has been drawn without a shirt and gloves on. In earlier issues he seemed to basically live 24/7 in his costume. Yes I noticed. Don't judge me.)

Nobody cares, that is, except for Colossus (aka Piotr Rasputin), who went from one of my favorite characters to least favorite characters when he started dating an underage Kitty Pryde until Marvel Editor in Chief Jim Shooter told them to stop (possibly the only good decisions Jim Shooter ever made). They wasted so much good himbo potential with this boy. Anyway, he's very excited for a rematch with Juggey after demolishing a few blocks with him in a post-breakup funk several issues ago. So excited he quite literally busts out of his clothes.

See, its dumbass himbo behavior like this I'd enjoy a lot more if I couldn't get the bad taste of him and Kitty out of my mouth. Screw you Claremont for ever thinking that was ok.

Wolverine comes in from his daily barefoot snow jog in purple pajamas to tell Nightcrawler to get the team ready to track down Juggernaut because blah blah its their jobs booo you spoilsport. Honestly I would have loved an issue where the X-men just stayed at home and did nothing. I find the cool-down moments in long running comic series are usually my favorite parts. Its nice to see how these characters interact with each other and live their lives when they aren't constantly in mortal peril. But the cover promised a big knockdown dragemout and so, the plot must keep plotting. (Side note: how did Wolvie even find out about the Juggernaut? Everyone else was listening to the radio but he was running outdoors. His plot sense was tingling I guess).

Since Cyclops is a married man, Storm has lost her powers and Professor X is off in Scotland doing New Mutants stuff, Kurt now has the sole leadership responsibility of the team. I've really enjoyed Kurt's run as team leader so far. He's doing his best but he's not cut out for leadership and its clear he hates every minute of it. He's an extroverted sweetheart who would rather support his friends. Its nice to see Nightcrawler get more stuff to do after barely being present for the past for story arcs. His self doubt is also a fantastic change of pace from the previous leadership dynamics, which were the team leader going "Wah wah wah I'm the leader and you have to do what I say I'm going to be a controlling little bitch," and the second in command/former leader muttering under their breath "I would be such a better leader I deserve this title more leader doesn't know what they're doing wah wah wah." It was basically a three way dick measuring contest between Cyclops, Storm and Professor X and I hated every egotistical minute of it.

Speaking of Storm, we cut to her in her home in Kenya showing some colonial douchecanoes who's boss. Storm was recently depowered by an antimutant weapon created by Forge (long story) and so has quit the team and is returning home to find inner peace or something. Being 80s Marvel Kenya is of course portrayed in a nuanced and intelligent manner- just kidding its a thatched roof bush station in the savannah and I'm pretty sure they only chose Mount Kilimanjaro because it was the only place in Africa they could name.

Also this specific Racist White Dude is using a South African slur (kaffir) in Kenya. I'd like to say the writers meant him to be a South African on vacation in Kenya but to be honest I don't think they were thinking that hard about it. If I'm wrong though and this isn't just an example of lazy writing, lmk.)

The women running bush station who Storm saves turns out to be a member of the tribe that worshipped her as a Goddess in her first appearance (because, again, Marvel is well known for their fantastic African representation /s) and falls at her feet. The implications of this are that the regional drought mentioned in previous panels is the result of Ororo joining the X-men and no longer acting as weather Goddess, which raises a whole bunch of questions about the morality of her decision to leave in the first place, as well as broader questions about the ecology of the Marvel Universe as a whole that literally superpowers were needed to keep the climate in the region stable in the first place (climate change must be hitting them hard and fast, forget the Setinels, this is the bad future y'all should be going back to stop!). Anyway, I'm sure at least some of these will be answered the next time we see her.

Back to the main storyline, Kitty and Rachel are spying on Juggernaut, who is in a bank in civies, seemingly doing ordinary, none-crime stuff.

Look at his giant butt in that tiny chair how could anybody be fooled by this?!

The stakeout is going pretty quietly until Nimrod shows up to finally do something. The panels showing him locking in on the X-men's location is pretty neat, but its giving me Deja Vu. I wonder if its because the panel is so famous I've seen it before, or if they copied some iconic imagery from something else (it is giving me Escape From New York vibes)

Rachel and Kitty evacuate the civies and regroup with the rest of the X-men as Nimrod focuses his attention on Juggernaut. He punches Juggernaut into a conveniently empty construction lot where they can beat the stuffing out of each other without the writers having to worry about civilians. Do you think construction lots cause superhero fights, or do superhero fights cause construction lots? Its a chicken-egg sort of thing I feel. The X-men show up to stick their noses in like a bunch of idiots and this is where I have to make my opinions on Nimrod known.

Nimrod is a mutant hunting cop-robot that had been introduced previously, having been pulled into the current timestream from the Days of Future Past timeline when Dr Strange reversed time to stop the spell of an evil wizard from turning Manhatten into a Hyborian Era fantasy kingdom. I personally think exchanging Fantasy AU Avengers for pink murderbot is a pretty lame deal, but what do I know. Anyway, he's spent all his time since his initial appearance living in some poor guy's basement, eating his snacks, taking up space and barely masquerading as human, much like me.

So. I'ma be honest. I don't like Nimrod. I think he looks like a stupid pink trapezoid. Also, his name is dumb. Yeah, yeah, Nimrod was a famous biblical hunter, I know, but like. This was the 80s. Bugs Bunny had been a thing for decades, "Nimrod" was already well established as an insult and honestly giving the guy that goofy-ass triangle head and Looney Toons-esque invulnerability is not helping the associations. Like, what the hell were the DoFP folks thinking?! But then again this is same Evil Future Government that decided Rachel's mutant hunter outfit should be a literal goddamn gimpsuit so I think its been well established that their real crime aren't against humanity but fashion.

He's also extremely OP in the worst way. I can't even keep track of how many powers this guy has. And you'd think that might make the fight's interesting, right, like you'll you never know what's going to happen next? No actually it makes everyfight extremely boring because I know exactly what's going to happen next, the X-men are going to attack with something and Nimrod is going to go "Nu-uh, you can't hit me I have my everything shield!" and take them out of the fight with some new weapon he pulled out of his ass. And that's exactly what happens this time. Nightcrawler and Colossus teleport into the fight? Nimrod's tracking systems immediately detect them and he blasts them unconscious. Wolverine does a fastball special?But oh no, a force field! Kitty phases through him? Not only does she not disrupt his systems, she gets knocked back by energy field!

The demonstration of Nimrod's bullshit powers is great here, but I actually wanted to post this because of Rachel's fit. Its so 80s but I kind of adore it. This nonsense continues even after Rogue absorbs Kitty, Nightcrawler and Colossus's powers in a Hail Mary. Don't get me wrong, Rogue kicks ass and its hella entertaining but Nimrod once again is on his bullshit. She punches him into a million tiny pieces and he just reforms himself! Then he teleports out of there because I guess even he knew this fight had dragged on long enough. Which is another thing I hate about Nimrod; they can never actually kill the bastard. He'll just teleport away and come back next time with even more bullshit. It'd be so cathartic if Rogue had finally just smacked him down for good but I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot more of him in the future. The X-men let the Juggernaut go, despite him being a literal criminal, because they've been doing that a lot recently. Unfortunately for them, this time surprise news crews have been behind the fourth wall the whole time like its an episode of Impractical Jokers and now the whole world knows they didn't even try to do their job. And don't give me any "oh they were weak they knew they couldn't taken him" Juggernaut had his psionic bucket hat off and Rachel Summers was right there she could have taken him down with a single thought.

We end the comic with an ominous discussion about the X-men by two members of the Russian Security council.

You can tell its Moscow because of the picture perfect view of St Basil's which magically appears in the window. Also, how the heck am I supposed to take Eyepatch Ivanovich here seriously when he's wearing little red booty shorts?! Anyway, this certainly was an issue of X-men. It started off really fun, then it got kind of generic. Certainly not the worst or most infuriating by any means. Looking forward to next issue!

Edit: I took the comic at face value and wrote that Mount Kilimanjaro was in Kenya. Mount Kilimanjaro is actually in Tanzania, near the Kenyan border, so unless the borders have shifted since 1985, Claremont is an idiot and so am I.

#comic books #marvel comics #uncanny xmen #juggernaut #rouge #storm #nightcrawler #kitty pryde #wolverine #Colossus is there too I guess #nimrod #way too long #way too many tags

[holodexmachina]

Listen. I wrote a thing.

Part of me still can't believe I've done this, but, okay, here we go: I wrote some Star Trek fanfic! And while posting fanfic is a pretty banal activity in tumblrland, it was kind of A Whole Thing for me. I’ve never written fanfic before! I haven’t even written fiction of any sort since, good lord, my sophomore creative writing class, which was *checks watch* twenty years ago. And it’s been way too long since I wrote anything just for fun. So it’s been kind of a wild practice, and now it’s out there, and I want to tell you about it.

The fic is called “A Woman of Your Century,” and it is a rewrite of the Star Trek: The Original Series episode “Space Seed,” but imagines Khan as a woman. [You don’t need to have seen the episode to get the story, but here’s a quick synopsis: the Enterprise encounters a ship full of sleeping humans and wakes one—Khan Noonien-Singh, played by Ricardo Montalban. The crew soon realizes that Khan is an “augment”—one of a group of genetically engineered superhuman despots who took over Earth in the 1990s, causing the disastrous Eugenics Wars. Khan tries to take over the Enterprise so that he can conquer the galaxy. Khan nearly kills Kirk; fist fights ensue; Khan loses, and Kirk ditches the augments on an abandoned planet (thus setting the scene for Star Trek II: Wrath of Khan twenty years later).] 

“Space Seed” is my favorite Trek episode, hands down. Khan is a pretty interesting villain—ruthless, narcissistic, ambitious—and the augment storyline has always been incredibly compelling to me, especially as it gets picked up and developed further in several other series. That said, the episode isn’t without its flaws; like many TOS episodes, the premise didn’t need to be thought through any more than was required of its 50 minutes, and later attempts to explain the augments’ history tended to introduce more questions and canonical conflicts. And then there’s the squick-inducing relationship between Khan and the ship’s historian, Marla McGivers—a relationship that provides plot devices, but has a deeply fucked dynamic. I mean, he negs her over her hair, and she decides, yeah, I’d engineer a mutiny for this man. You can tell the writers really respected women. 

Then a friend said: could you imagine how this story would have gone if Khan had been a woman?

Oh. Oh—

Yes. Yes, I can imagine that. 

I started thinking about what would change if Khan were a woman. How would the crew of the Enterprise react to such a powerful female villain? How would it unfuck Marla’s interactions (or not)? What kind of rivalry would develop between Kirk and Khan? TOS doesn’t skip female villainy, but does tend to keep it squarely in the realm of “seductress acting on behalf of a male.” The limitations of midcentury masculinity make it hard to imagine Kirk seeing a woman as a true threat—as a mind on par with his own (let alone far beyond it). 

Thinking through the gender-bent implications also led me to considering the story from Khan’s point of view. It’s a tricky balance—Khan is a genocidal sociopath with the blood of millions on his hands. Let’s not defend that, maybe! At the same time, there’s a reason the best villains are humanized: we need to be able to see ourselves in the monstrous, and the monstrous in ourselves. Cartoon evil is boring and unrealistic. But finding ways to create sympathy for a villain—without condoning them!—is very interesting. 

Rewriting “Space Seed” let me not only explore material I adored, not only fill in minor plot holes, not only build out augment backstory—it also let me highlight the current of sexism and misogyny that has always been part of Trek, and blow it up real good. Marla’s treatment in the original—and the crew’s reverence for Khan’s aggression—both speak volumes about gender attitudes in the 1960s (and, uh, beyond). But swapping genders—Khan for Khana and Marla for Marlow—forces (I hope) a reexamination of character, of narrative, of values. Which is what science fiction is for, after all.

Also: it was just fucking fun to do. Which makes me wonder if I should…write more fic? (I’m open to ideas! What should I try next?) Either way: thanks, friends, and happy reading!

#star trek #fandom #fanfic #ao3 link #space seed #star trek tos #captain kirk #khan noonien singh #gender #rewrite #am i doing this right? #please be nice #writing is hard

[i-sveikata]

GURRRRL

I've finally had time to read the latest chapter!! I'm so excited!!!! Like I always feel nervous going through new chapter. Nervous for what is going to come and wanting for more horny VP.

I knew that the food wasn't from grandma! It's such a nice touch, how Vegas was involved with food in the series and definitely is his love language. I love how Pete finally decides to let himself have the pleasure he wants. I'm reading and thinking "aha! That's what she chose to change/leave in the story!" I'm constantly trying to figure out what events will be present from the canon and which not. Fully knowing we are mostly around 13 episode storyline of the series only bad things are waiting to happen. If I had a bingo then Bloody Vegas is being crossed now. Pete not wanting Vegas to die and tending his injuries is still waiting to come 👀 The amount of thoughts and character they received from you is why I still think The Graveyards are the best VP fic out there. Now they almost feel like original characters with how real you made them. Feels just like reading something whole, not just a fanfic.

They do match eachother and could be such a power couple. I would love to see Pete's darker side, more honest. Will his loyalty change when he learns who voted to kill him? (I have my opinions who was it 😅). I've smirked how quickly Pete went from "you hurt my friend" to being unable to resist him. Their bickering is what I love the most. And how Pete knew he wasn't choking him (cause he did it once already *cough*) and was just playing. They maybe are poor basterds but at least they get eachother unlike anyone else. My headcanon of them both being unhinged and fucked up is sitting so well with your depiction.

I kind of dislike Kinn so seeing him in a tight spot and being embarrassed by Tankhun was a fun time 😂

I'm going to patiently wait for more and simp over them for a while. I've been listening the unhinged playlist and I'm still shocked how much it's like "it's THEM".

I'm curious if you have already planned the story till the end? You said that you start a chapter by writing some scenes you wanted and then fill in the gaps. Are these scenes the spicy ones? Action? Plot twist? Or Pete's monologues? Or maybe it depends. I'm curious about the writing and thinking process 😅

Anyways. I've wrote a huge message already. So just going to say: Great job! I want more 😂 Thank you for writing and I hope the inspiration is going to stay for a long time.

Take care! ☺️🖤

Hola!! Omg I’m sorry it makes you nervous!! Lol but understandable as each chapter is A LOT. Oh so so true food is such a part of his love language- acts of service for sure! Yeah it’s interesting for Pete because the methods he was using to protect himself almost become the same things which are preventing him from being in the moment because he’s constantly overanalysing their dynamic and trying to figure out who is winning or dominating or in control at any point in time so he’s not able to fully let himself go. But we all know Vegas is desperate to help him lose control, relax and just enjoy himself

Oh lol that actually would be fun trying to figure out what’s still going to be in the fic vs what was in the show honestly I think most of the overarching themed are there but yes elements have definitely been fleshed out a lot more with a bigger focus on the characters and their emotional states. Which is kind of common for tv tbh- they never really seem to leave room for trauma and the characters addressing it. Lol yes can’t escape bloody Vegas the way he interacts with the world that is a given at any point in time. Ha yes might be wound tending for sure 😉 oh thank you that’s honestly so sweet of you to say I’m really glad you’re enjoying how in depth I went with this lol

Oh absolutely they could be SUCH a power couple if they learned to get out of their own way sometimes haha. Hahaha might keep the answers to that until the next chapter is out wouldnt want to spoil too much!! Omg lol the certainty in which Pete was like he’s not going to hurt me (and tbh he was totally right) there is a sense of trust and comfortableness that exists between them even if Pete isn’t quite aware of it/ acknowledging it yet. Oh yes they do get each other like nobody else v true! Lol they are both unhinged they’re a totally mess let’s be real

I get that! I’m not a huge fan of Kinn either so it is a little fun for the other characters to roast him for his behaviour m hahaha

Oh thank you I’m so glad you’re liking the playlist! Just fun to imagine their general vibe and it definitely makes me think about them a lot more if I’m like oh this song is so them 🥸

Oh good question! Well I am going to follow the show to it’s completion and let’s be real probably beyond that because an ending can always use more detail. Probably will be more of the same thing- Pete still trying to work himself and Vegas out and understand his feelings eventually. Yeah the process is really up in the air tbh I did start publishing way before I was ready so I caught up to my drafted bits much too quickly. I still have some future scenes already written some confrontational some spicy but yeah the rest is all floating around in my head somewhere. Truly wasn’t expecting the reception this fic has got so if I would change anything I might have waited a little bit longer/had a bit more written before I started but that’s the way the cookie crumbles sometimes!!

Thank you so much for your huge message I love to read them! You are all truly so kind and enthusiastic and it’s honestly been so great writing for this fandom ☺️☺️ ah you’re so welcome! Lots of inspiration still hanging about here that’s for sure!

Thanks angel you too!!

#fic asks #I’ll fill the graveyards until I have you