the love of an artist

chapter 2 of 4, minsung-centric, OT8 implied, modern with magic AU, kidnapping, hurt/comfort, angst

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Chan’s heart sank when they got to the coffee shop. No Jisung. He wasn’t in the coffee shop, wasn’t in telepathic range, and his magic signature wasn’t even lingering anywhere in the shop or nearby. He wasn’t here, and hadn’t been for a while. At least longer than fifteen minutes. Fuck. The couple that owned the coffee shop said he had been in there, but had left within five minutes. Double fuck. Where the hell was Jisung?

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READ HERE! ↓↓↓↓ (or here!) ↓↓↓↓

1k, yeongyu, comfort no hurt, nightmares, comfort fic, fluff, cuddling & snuggling

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The thing is, Beomgyu gets nightmares. It’s not anything new for him, just something to deal with when he gets a little too stressed out by the world and every shitty thing the world makes it a point to throw specifically at him. It’s not like he enjoys it, or like he’s complacent to it, but it’s gotten easier over time. Even easier with Yeonjun laying next to him. or, Beomgyu has a nightmare. Yeonjun's there with so much love to chase away the fear.

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READ HERE! ↓↓↓↓ (or here!) ↓↓↓↓

2.6k words, implied yeongyu, platonic OT5, insecurity, hurt/comfort, past toxic relationship, non-idol AU

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Beomgyu knew that there was always the chance he would get to see his friends, his true and wonderful best friends, again. He knew there was no chance that they would completely forget about him, or that they wouldn’t want to see him if he reached out. At some point, though, Beomgyu (or maybe it was his boyfriend) had gotten it into his head that they were worlds apart now. That the rest of them had moved on to another phase of existence, another place in the world. Somewhere Beomgyu couldn’t catch up. or, Beomgyu comes to Soobin's apartment in the middle of the night.

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Chan: Telepathy/Telekenesis

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Minho: Illusions

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Changbin: Empathy

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Jisung: Truth Detection

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Hyunjin: Umbrakinesis (Shadow Manipulation)

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Felix: Hydrokinesis (Water Manipulation)

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Seungmin: Future Sight

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Jeongin: Healing

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READ CHAPTER ONE OF THE FIC HERE!! ↓↓↓↓ (or here!) ↓↓↓↓

chapter 1 of 4, minsung-centric, OT8 implied, modern with magic AU, kidnapping, hurt/comfort, angst

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Everyone knew that Chan’s coven wasn’t to be taken lightly. They had taken in their youngest member, Jeongin, about 6 months ago, and soon after it was known throughout Seoul that their coven bond had been solidified after months of waiting for their final member to appear. Their coven was eight. As it was meant to be all along. or, Jisung is ripped away from his coven.

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READ HERE! ↓↓↓↓ (or here!) ↓↓↓↓

What would you study if money didn’t matter?

What kind of question is that? Why should the answer be different? Shouldn’t my first choice, my passion Be sufficient? Surely it doesn’t matter if it’s in fashion, Or business Or law Shouldn’t it be enough that it’s what I loved when I saw? That I wanted to know from start to finish? Shouldn’t I be the one to decide my limit? To decide my course, what to do with the years I’m given?

Of course not. Such a foolish thought. A waste, Altogether too easy to chase Yet far harder to ever taste. A chance at a dream A chance at an hour feeling like a minute Like slicing in half the tension it’s hidden Like pulling a out a seam Long after they’ve slid that needle under your skin. And pulled it out And moved it forward And slid it under once again Over Over again- Until you can’t move your mind Until you can’t seem to mind Until you can’t seem to find anything Until you’ve forgotten to be kind.

Why?

Because there’s seams in your skin. How can you be kind when there’s seams in your skin? How can you be mind when your patience is rail-thin? What can you find when your world is a tin?

Tin. Rusting Metal and dark No window No sound No sunglow No ground.

Ever wonder where the air goes when you breathe? After it’s done scorching its way Through your sore throat And your cracked ribs? The answer’s probably no. ‘Cause it goes to your lungs, right? Let’s think about it like this. (take a breath.) When you speak Where do your words go? Do they go nowhere? Do you just keep speaking even if nobody listens? Because you have to? Because it reminds you that you’re real? (take a breath.) No, you speak to be heard. You speak to say what you think. You speak because your words Are worth using your air to scream out Into the ears of those who doubt you. (take a breath.) When you breathe It burns you because it is powerful It hurts you to breathe sometimes Because it’s already alight with the words you have yet to say The words you will make from the air Shooting through your lungs. (take a breath.) Your breath is your power You take the air the Earth gives to everyone And you change it to words That can tear down and build up With equal power and equal measure. With your words You make your mark on the minds of others.

poems

"reaching for that lonely light"