#i been here for almost four years and am i still struggling to find my voice in writing? yuh

[luimagines]

The Legend of Baldur's Gate (1800 Follower Raffle)

Our first prize winner was @prumby!

They asked for a DnD Reader who happened to be from Baldur's Gate 3 where the chain goes to their world. Keep in mind, I have never played the game. But I am familiar with the concept and have a friend who very happily beta read this to make sure the characters weren't too OOC.

Masterlist

Content under the cut!

When they all exited the portal at first, they didn’t inherently assume there was a problem with the land in front of them. The trees were all the same. The sounds of the river happened to be closer than they thought; but they were already accustomed to moving between many, many years as well. The terrain lives as much as the people do. That river could have been there for hundreds of years, or it could be a new development. It would be hard to say.

The only thing that they had to tip them off was the acrid and bitter taste to the air around them. 

Hyrule’s air was sweet. The inherent magic of the land had permeated through the air itself, giving it the taste of sugar or rock candy. It was soft on the senses and invigorating to the soul.

The air here was nothing of the sort. 

Sky coughs to the side, wheezing and bending down in an effort to catch his breath. Warrior is instantly by his side, patting his back and offering what support he can.

“Do you guys hear that?” Twilight relatively puts his hand on the hilt of his sword.

It had been relatively quiet until Sky had lost his breath. No one had noticed anything. They all go still once Twilight speaks, going in edge without a second thought.

You step forward from the portal at last, letting it close behind you without looking back. You take a deep breath and seem to relax almost at once. “Oh.. it smells like home.”

All eyes turn to you.

“What is that supposed to-”

BAM!

Suddenly a large creature barrels out of the treeline, heading right for the group. It’s a huge four legged beast, covered in feathers with the face of an owl. It roars defiantly, shaking the ground as it charges.

You don’t hesitate, throwing spells left and right as the boys struggle to get their bearings on the beast. You also charge the beast, slashing it with your blade without a second thought. Twilight follows on your heels, having somehow gathered that there was a creature nearby before you even arrived on the scene.

One by one, the boys all begin to pull their weight and fight back this strange creature that they had never seen before. It roars, throwing back each of them. Four crashes into a tree. Legend gets a gnarly slash on his arm from the beak of the beast. You slide closer, using the momentum from a push that allows you to slide under the creature, slicing it from below.

The battle doesn’t take much longer after that.

“What…” Wild pants, haphazardly throwing magic potions at Hyrule so he could heal the others. “-wa  that?!”

“Owlbear.” You wipe the sweat from your brow. “I’m not sure where we are exactly but I can tell you this-.”

“There you are, Darling.” A low growl comes from the man that approaches your group. He’s pale, unnaturally so. His white seems to be parted over to one side. His clothes flair around his wrists and neck, the deep cut of his shirt accentuating his diamond cut muscles. His red eyes are piercing with no amount of humor in them despite his earlier tone.

You flinch and grimace. “....I can explain.”

“Oh, you will.” He glares. “Do you have any idea how long we were looking for you?”

“Astarion-”

“That blasted wizzard Gale wouldn’t shut up about finding you.” He crosses his arms, putting one of his hands up, curling his fingers like a diva. “And don’t even get me started on Scratch. The bloody hound was even worse. And mutt can’t even talk.”

That last one was like a slap to your face. “I can explain what happened.”

“Well then, by all means!” Astarion opens his arms with a flourish. “Be my guest. You can start with why you’re surrounded by half elf children who smell like pixies.”

You huff and put your hand on your hips. Ignoring his jab at the boys next to you, you turn to your friends and gesture to the vampire. “Guys, this is Astarion. A friend of mine. Astarion, these are the Heroes of Hyrule. These are the ones that I’ve been traveling with while I’ve been gone.”

“He seemed very concerned over your disappearance.” Legend rolls his eyes, tugging it away from Hyrule’s grip as the healing spell ends.

“Stop it.” You point at the Vet, with a stern glare. ”Don’t you start. He has seniority.” 

“I’m not old.” He turns his head as he grumbles. “I’m only a few hundred years old. Honestly. It’s a lot less than a few others can say and you know it!”

You bite back a smile and point to the dead owlbear in the vicinity. You’ve missed his attitude. It’s both hard to take him seriously sometimes and all too easy to talk to him. “Yours, I presume?”

“It was going to be.” He says tensely, looking at the group around you. You instantly know why he’s apprehensive.

“It still can be!” You say, gesturing wildly to the corpse of the owlbear. “It’s not like I want it! Are the others nearby?”

He puts his hands on his hips. “We’re camped close enough.”

Arf! Arf! Arf!

You perk up at once, the barking making even Link’s head look in the direction of the sound. You jump up, flinging two of your fingers to your lips and release a shrill whistle.

A white dog comes bounding out of the underbrush at the call, b-lining right to you without so much as a second glance at the newcomers you’ve brought into the world.

“Scratch!” You catch the dog, petting him with complete adoration. The dog continues to bark, his tail wagging wildly enough to sprain it later if the poor thing keeps this up. 

“I’ve missed you so much, buddy! You’re such a good boy! I’m so sorry I left so suddenly. I have so many new treats for you!” You cry out, wrestling with the creature playfully. Wind, Time and Sky all come closer to say their hellos to the dog. Scratch was a bit wary at first, no doubt confused by their strange smells, but your confidence helped put the animal to ease. New friends are still friends after all!

“Hello? Astarion? Are you here?” Another familiar voice calls from the tree line. “Scratch took off like a bat out of the seven hells after we noticed we were gone.”

“Gale!” You jump up, running to meet your friend halfway before he could come out into the clearing.

Astarion makes his way over to the owlbear to feed at last now that everyone’s attention is on someone else for a change.

The brunette screams when he sees you, startling the cat off of his shoulders. He cries out your name and hugs you fiercely. Enough so that the sound of the thunk had Warrior and Legend wincing on your behalf. “It has been too long! Where on Faerûn did you go running off to?”

“Gale.” You laugh. “You’re not going to believe half of the magic I’ve witnessed in the past few months I’ve been away.”

“Months?!” He jolts and grabs you by your shoulders. ”My dear it’s only been three weeks! What do you mean months!?”

This causes you and the group of heroes behind you to freeze. Your jaw drops as you equally hold Gale at an arm's length from you. “...Gale, what are you sure? I’ve been gone for three months, at least. …Admittedly, I haven’t been exactly counting, but it’s certainly been more than three weeks.”

“No, no… It’s been three weeks.” He says softly. “...My goodness, this is certainly worth discussing over a cup of tea. Come come come. You and your-” He pauses and looks over the gang of Hylians that all looks around feeling incredibly misplaced. “-...friends. And we can all have lunch!”

“Um- actually, Gale, I don’t know if they can eat-”

“Allergies?”

“No, no- they’re just from another world-”

“Another world?!”

“Yes!”

“Oh that’s splendid! All the more reason to behave as good hosts should!” Gale gets a familiar gleam in his eye and you fear that you’ve awakened the slumbering scholar. “That is of course if they don’t mind answering some questions.”

“...It’s Shad. That’s who he’s reminding me of.” Twilight deadpans.

“Oh, do you cook the food?” Wild asks hesitantly. “...I’m the cook of the group. I don’t mind filling in to feed us since I don’t think it would be very polite of us to use up your resources. I’ll just need the fire.”

“We can both make dishes of our worlds and then compare for sake of sharing a meal with one another.” Gale all but jumps around in glee, picking up his cat and placing her back on his shoulders. You can already see him trying Wild’s cooking and taking notes like the nerd he is. “Come Tara! We must welcome our new guests!”

You sigh and call the group to follow. “We might as well. There’s others I want you to meet.”

“Like your friend Shadowheart that you’ve mentioned once or twice?” Four tilts his head, running up to catch up to you as you begin to leave.

“Yes, exactly.” You grin. “She’s going to yell at me, I’m sure.”

“She sounds delightful.” Hyrule ruffles his hair.

“Don’t take too long, Astarion! Or you’ll miss out on the chaos!” You grin as you yell that over your shoulder, not commenting on that. You see him lean away from the owlbear, the faintest hint of blood on his lips. “Be there in a moment!”

Wind tugs on your tunic in haste. “Is that-”

“He’s fine.” You wave off the child’s concerns. “...In every way that it counts.”

“Oh please tell me not another one.” Legend groans. “The Captain is bad enough.”

“Hey!”

“He knows it.” You laugh, patting your thigh to signal for Scratch to follow you. “Come on, Gale will no doubt want to take your ear off.”

“So long as they know that we mean no harm.” Time says as he walks behind the group on your other side. “We’re not here to make enemies. It wasn’t our intention to come here at all.”

“It’ll be fine.” You stress.

At the very least, you hope it will be.

[itendtothinkalot]

confession 3.0

Summary: reader has suppressed her feelings for huening for so long, believing that she could manage without confessing. sooo how will she react when she discovers that kai had gone on a blind date.......

Genre: fluffy

Characters: huening kaix f!reader

Words: 6202

a/n: suUuUuper busy at work rn but i managed to write something rly quick today! i didnt rly proofread or edit this so i'm sorry if thrs errors! also stream #ggum!!!

Completed (oneshot)

Kai, It’s hard to find the right words when I’m about to say something that could change everything between us. But here I am, thinking maybe, just MAYBE, you would feel the same way. (Though, I’m on my period, so maybe I’m reading too much into it.) We’ve been best friends for as long as I can remember. You’ve always been my rock, through every high and low. Maybe that’s why it’s taken me so long to see you as more than a friend. But now, I think I’m ready to face the truth. I like you—probably more than a friend should.

It’s been two years since you wrote that letter. You and Kai had just graduated. Maybe it was the adrenaline from graduation, but you wrote it the night he kissed your cheek after you were named valedictorian.

“THAT’S MY BEST FRIEND!” you heard him yell from the seats. You rolled your eyes as you walked up to get your diploma, but you couldn’t ignore the look in his eyes as he mouthed the words, “I’m so proud of you.”

“The letter’s collecting dust,” Beomgyu teased, lying on your bed, reading the letter you wrote for Kai all those years ago.

“You come to my house, rummage through my memory box, and take out this hellish letter?” You glared at Beomgyu, who knew you were getting irritated. “What are you trying to achieve? If you want me to cry, just call me dumb. I’m on my period anyway.”

“TMI, but I’ll let it slide since I am a huge female supporter.” He chuckled, “But here’s a thought! Give him the letter.”

You snatched the letter from him. “And why would I do that?"

"Why not? It's cute!"

"Cute?"

"Yeah!"

"In what way?" You asked.

"It has like words. And stuff." Beomgyu paused. “Besides, you two belong together! Plus, I need some drama in my life. Ever since Soobin and Yeonjun went to study overseas, things have been so boring.”

"Are you insinuating that Kai, Taehyun, and I are boring?" you asked, deadpan.

"I'm not insinuating. I'm literally telling you that," Beomgyu chuckled, draping his arms over your shoulders like he hadn’t just insulted you.

"You’re an idiot," you scoffed, shaking your head. "Besides, I’m perfectly fine with how things are."

"Oh, you mean staring at him lovingly while he’s eating?" Beomgyu teased, widening his eyes and pouting dramatically, doing his best imitation of you watching Kai.

“I could kill you.”

“But you won’t.”

You stuck your tongue out at him, knowing he was right. It was cruel—the way you felt about Kai. Almost comically so. Falling in love with your best friend felt like a cosmic joke.

“Do you think he likes me back?” You sighed.

“How would I know?” Beomgyu rolled his eyes.

“Well, for starters, you three have guy’s nights.”

“We talk about games. Football. You know, guy stuff. Do we look like the kind of people who talk about feelings?”

“Kinda. Yeah.” 

—

The living room was filled with high pitched screaming (mostly from Beomgyu) as the four of you—Beomgyu, Taehyun, Kai, and you—were completely absorbed in a random game Kai had discovered in a video he had seen somewhere.

Taehyun, with a mischievous grin, leaned back on the couch. “Hey, did you guys hear the news?” 

“What news?” Beomgyu asked, his eyes still locked onto the TV.

“Kai has a girlfriend~” Taehyun sang, before getting elbowed in his stomach.

“Dude!” Kai said, his eyes shifted to you and then to Beomgyu. “It was just a blind date my sister set me up on. It was stupid.” 

Your fingers froze. You glanced over at Taehyun, still grinning as he played, and felt a sudden surge of jealousy. Your hands fumbled with the controller, struggling to keep your composure as your heart raced. You shot a quick look at Kai, whose focus wavered as his eyes were still locked onto your every movement as if waiting for a reaction.

"Why would you bring that up when we’re about to beat the last level?” Kai sighed, his brows furrowing in mild annoyance as his hands tightened around the controller.

Taehyun smirked, leaning back lazily against the couch. “Would you have preferred I brought it up on the first level?” he teased, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Kai rolled his eyes, exhaling in frustration. “It wasn’t a big deal,” he muttered, his voice casual, but there was a slight tension in his posture as if he wanted to brush the subject away quickly.

“So it did happen?” Beomgyu exclaimed, freezing his character mid-air on the screen.

“A couple of days ago,” Taehyun said casually, his attention still on the game. “I was surprised too. He didn’t mention anything about it, I only happened to walk past his little date at the cafe I frequent.”

Kai shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. “Yeah, it was just a setup my sister arranged. It was... fine.”

You felt a pang of jealousy and frustration, struggling to ignore the growing lump in your throat. You shifted in your seat, trying to refocus on the game, but your movements became increasingly erratic.

Your fingers pressed random buttons, desperately trying to regain control, but it only made things worse. The game character on the screen flailed aimlessly.

“Stop dying! You’re pulling us down!” Taehyun yelled, clearly exasperated with your lack of focus.

The criticism hit a nerve, and you snapped, unable to keep your frustration in check. “Oh, sure, blame it on me, Taehyun! Maybe if you hadn’t brought up Kai’s stupid blind date, I wouldn’t be so distracted!”

Taehyun looked taken aback, his eyes widening in surprise. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“It’s just... annoying!” you shot back, your voice sharp. “I’m trying to focus, and all I can think about is how—”

You suddenly noticed the three boys staring at you with wide eyes.

Realizing you’d let your frustration get the better of you, you quickly backpedaled. “I mean—sorry. I was just distracted,” you said, your voice trailing off awkwardly as you tried to recover from the outburst.

Beomgyu, ever observant, immediately noticed the shift in your demeanor. He shot you a sideways glance.

“Hey,” he said quietly, leaning in a bit closer so only you could hear, “I know you’re upset. Just take a deep breath.”

You met his gaze and saw the empathy in his eyes. 

“Thanks,” you murmured.

Meanwhile, Taehyun was still chatting away about the date, completely oblivious to the tension. “So, how did it go, Kai? Did you have a good time?”

Kai shrugged again, looking a bit uncomfortable. “It was okay. We talked, had dinner. Nothing special.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to mask the jealousy. You had no right to be upset, but the idea of Kai with someone else was expectedly hard to handle.

Like you said, curse.

—

It had been a couple of weeks since you last hung out with Kai, and you'd been avoiding him, using work as an excuse. You hoped everyone bought it, though Beomgyu didn’t seem convinced. But you didn’t care. You had already turned down Friday night dinners twice in a row, and there was no way you could get away with skipping a third time. So here you were, back at their place, feeling a knot of nerves twist in your stomach.

You wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but you were terrified it’d be awkward with Kai. Ever since you found out about his blind date, your feelings had been gnawing at you relentlessly, making every thought of him more painful. You feared how being around him might make those emotions harder to suppress especially since you almost gave yourself away the previous time.

But when you arrived at his house, all your worries evaporated the moment Kai pulled you into a tight bearhug. "I missed you so much!" he exclaimed, his voice warm and genuine. You found yourself melting into the embrace, forgetting every ounce of awkwardness and jealousy. For a brief moment, all that mattered was the familiar comfort of his arms around you, and everything else faded away.

You loved being in his arms. Kai felt like a giant teddy bear, soft and comforting in a way that made you feel safe. You had thought about it many times before—if comfort could take the form of a person, it would be him. His hugs were the kind that melted away stress, and being close to him felt like home. No matter how anxious or upset you were, being in his arms always made you forget, even if just for a little while.

“I missed you too," you fumbled out, your voice softer than intended.

"God! It's been two weeks, but it feels like a year!" he laughed, pulling you over to the sofa. His excitement and warmth made you feel like you’d never been away. 

"I knew you were busy the last couple of weeks," he said, reaching for his phone and opening the notes app. "So I made a list." He grinned, scrolling through it. "Here are just some things you missed during our dinners."

"You wrote them down on your notes app?" you giggled, genuinely amused by the thought of him keeping track of everything just for you.

"Of course," he replied with a playful glint in his eyes. "I can’t leave you out."

You don’t think he realizes just how sweet he is—or how incredibly frustrating it is that he's constantly this sweet. You're pretty sure he has no idea how much you want to scream every time he makes you feel this way. It was maddening, really, how effortlessly he could make your heart race with just a few words or a simple smile.

It had been about an hour since Kai filled you in on the events of the past two weeks. From what you gathered, Beomgyu sharted in his pants when he had diarrhoea from eating at a place down the street and Taehyun got drunk and wasted $500 sending TikTok gifts to Yeonjun during a live dance stream.

It seemed plausible enough. You missed them. Two weeks had passed, but it was more than enough time for you to fully feel their absence. Sure, they checked in on you every day, flooding the group chat, but you didn't respond—afraid you'd accidentally reveal your feelings for Kai. You weren’t about to make that mistake.

Still, you were starting to realize that avoiding them felt incredibly immature. You had forgotten just how much you loved your friends—and how much they loved you. Every part of you wished they wouldn’t change, not even a little. You wanted them to stay exactly as they were, unchanged and constant.

It was possibly why you were so adamant about keeping your feelings for Kai to yourself. The thought of confessing felt risky, one wrong move and the most precious friendship you’ve ever had could shatter. You couldn’t bear to be the one who ruined that.

Still…you wondered, how long you could take before you finally cracked.

“Do you think… we’ll still be friends when we’re older?” you asked, your voice soft and a bit uncertain.

Kai tilted his head, considering the question. “Like Yeonjun old or like my dad old?”

You laughed, trying to clarify, “Like, y’know, further into our adulthood.”

“Like when we have kids?” he asked, his tone casual but with a hint of curiosity.

“We?” Your heart skipped a beat, suddenly racing. The idea of him envisioning a future with you was both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Yeah?” He paused, looking at you with a thoughtful expression. “Like when you have your own family and I have mine.”

You nodded either way.

Kai looked at you with a genuine, reassuring smile. “Why wouldn’t we be?” he asked, his eyes warm and sincere. “We’ve been through so much together. Why wouldn’t we stay friends?”

Sure, you took some sort of comfort from his reassurance but there was a part of you still grappling with the realization that your feelings might never align with his. 

You took a deep breath, forcing a smile as you met his gaze. “Mhm.”

Kai’s smile widened, and he playfully nudged you with his elbow. “C’mon. We’ll still be annoying each other, like always.”

You laughed softly, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

"We won't change."

As you looked over at him, your eyes began to well up with tears. You looked away, pretending that you weren’t actually about to sob. 

Kai’s gaze softened when he noticed the glistening in your eyes. He placed his hands gently on your thigh, as if sensing that something was troubling you, though he couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was.

“I promise,” he said softly.

“Right…sorry..I’m just–”

“It’s fine. I get it.” He nodded, cutting you off. “You don’t have to explain.”

You often wondered how someone who knew you so well didn’t have any idea that you liked him. The thought was both comforting and frustrating. 

“Anyway, there’s still like 3 more things on my list.” Kai said, showing you his notes app.

You nodded, “All ears!” 

Despite enjoying Kai’s animated recounting of the ridiculous things Beomgyu had done the week before, your mind was a tangled mess of thoughts about his recent blind date.

You tried to focus on the present, nodding and laughing along, but the image of him with someone else kept intruding.

You hesitated, your fingers nervously tracing patterns on the armrest of the sofa. You took a deep breath as you waited for Kai to finally finish his last story. 

“Hey, Kai, can I ask you something?” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart pounded in your chest as you waited for his response.

“Sure, what’s up?” he replied, still looking relaxed and upbeat.

“So, about that blind date your sister set you up on…” you began, your tone more serious now. “How did it–um– go?”

Kai’s expression shifted slightly, and he leaned back, thinking for a moment. “Oh, that. It was... okay. We had dinner and talked a bit. It was nice, but nothing special.”

You tried to mask your disappointment, nodding slowly. “I see.”

Kai looked at you with a hint of curiosity. “Why? What’s up?”

You shrugged, forcing a casual tone. “Oh! Nothing. I was just–uh–curious!”

“Well, to be honest,” he started, “the date was actually kind of fun. She was really nice and pretty. We had a good time talking and hanging out. She’s been asking me out on another date, but I’m not sure if I should go.”

You felt a wave of jealousy bubbling inside you, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “That’s nice!” you said, forcing a smile. “You should go.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you winced inwardly, realizing the absurdity of what you’d just said. Here you were, encouraging the guy you had feelings for to go out on another date.

You looked down at your hands, trying to hide the flush of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks. “I mean… it’s your choice. Do what you think is right,” you stammered, trying to backtrack.

You tried to shake off the discomfort, but the conversation with Kai had left you feeling unsettled. As your phone rang, you seized the opportunity to shift focus.

“Hey, Beomgyu. What’s up?” you answered, trying to sound casual.

“Hey!” Beomgyu’s voice came through the speaker. “Just wanted to let you know we’ve got a busted tire. We’re going to be home 2-3 hours later than usual.”

“Shit, you guys okay?” 

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Beomgyu replied, chuckling. “Taehyun’s totally losing it with his insurance company. It’s kinda hilarious. I’ll send you a video in the group chat.”

You heard Beomgyu laughing, and then Taehyun’s distant shouting.

“Fuck. He’s coming over to yell at me to delete it,” Beomgyu added quickly.

“Yeah, okay,” you said, trying to ignore the awkwardness from earlier. “I’ll see you guys later.”

You hung up and looked over at Kai, who was watching you with a curious expression.

“Well,” you said, attempting to lighten the mood, “looks like it’s just us for dinner tonight.”

Kai grinned, clearly unfazed by the earlier conversation. “Perfect. More time for us to catch up.”

Whatever he had just said did nothing to quell the storm of emotions swirling inside you. You couldn’t help but think, Curse you, Huening Kai, you perfect son of a bitch, as you watched him move about the kitchen, completely unaware of the effect he had on you. 

—

“Can you pass me the salt?” “Hey…” “Dude!”

You suddenly felt a flick on your forehead and snapped out of your thoughts, turning to Kai, who had been trying to get your attention for a while.

“Oh! Yep. You should!” you blurted out. “You should totally try a new hairstyle.”

Kai laughed, the sound warm and reassuring. “We’ve moved on from that topic.” His expression softened as he leaned in, gently placing his hand on your forehead. “You alright? Are you feeling sick?”

His hand was surprisingly warm against your skin, and if his touch lingered even a moment longer, you were certain your cheeks would be hotter than the soup you were drinking. You nodded quickly, trying to brush off the heat rising to your face.

“Are you sure? It feels like you’re getting warmer,” Kai said, his voice tinged with concern.

Embarrassed, you pushed his hand away, the warmth of his touch still lingering. “It’s probably just the summer heat.”

“You sure?” he asked, still looking worried.

You nodded again, trying to sound more convincing. “Yep.”

“Hold on, you have a little…” He leaned in and gently used his thumb to wipe a small crumb from your lip.

The unexpected touch of his thumb against your lip sent a jolt through you. Startled by the sudden closeness and the tender gesture, you fumbled with the bowl of soup. In your flustered state, your hand slipped, and the bowl tipped over. 

You abruptly stood up, wincing as a sharp, stinging pain shot through your foot. “Fuck,” you cursed under your breath, your voice tinged with frustration.

Kai’s face immediately filled with concern. He hurriedly rushed over to your side of the table, reaching for the spilled food and trying to help you clean up. “Are you okay?” he asked, his tone anxious.

“I’m good!” you said quickly, trying to push his hands away. You didn’t want him to see how flustered and embarrassed you were. His touch was warm, but right now, you just wanted to avoid any more attention.

You noticed a flicker of hurt in his eyes before you shook your head, trying to reassure him. “I didn’t mean to—I just—I should go get this cleaned up.” You quickly made your way to the bathroom, your heart pounding as you tried to escape the situation.

You heard Kai’s footsteps follow closely behind you. As you entered the bathroom, he called out, “The first aid’s under the sink.” There was a sigh in his voice, a mixture of frustration and concern. “You sure you’re okay?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you through the closed door. “Yep,” you called back, trying to sound more confident than you felt.

Silence continued between the two of you as you carefully bandaged your scalded thigh. The faint rustling of Kai’s movements outside the door made it clear he was still there, waiting.

Then, you heard him whisper, almost too softly to catch, “There’s something wrong between us.”

You stayed silent, not trusting yourself to respond.

A moment later, his voice grew a bit louder as he repeated, “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yep.” You replied.

“You sure we’re okay?” Kai’s voice softened.

You didn’t answer, letting the silence stretch between you. Each second felt like an eternity, your mind racing as you tried to gather your thoughts. You could hear the faint rustling of Kai’s movements outside the door.

Finally, you took a deep breath and emerged from the bathroom, the bandage awkwardly wrapped around your leg. Kai stood there, looking at you with a mixture of worry and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Sorry about that,” you said, forcing a smile. “It’s just a minor burn. Nothing to worry about.”

Kai’s eyes softened, though he still looked concerned. “It’s not just about the burn, is it?” He stepped closer, his gaze searching yours. “Something’s been off for a while now. I can’t help but feel like you’re distancing yourself from me.”

You felt a lump form in your throat, the vulnerability of the moment making it hard to speak. “It’s complicated,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been dealing with a lot of emotions lately, and I didn’t want to drag you into it.”

Kai’s expression shifted from concern to understanding, and he reached out, gently touching your arm. “You don’t have to go through things alone. If something’s wrong, I want to be here for you. I care about you too much to let things stay this way.”

His words struck a chord, and you felt your resolve begin to crumble. The warmth of his hand on your arm, combined with the sincerity in his eyes, made it hard to hold back your feelings.

“I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. You looked down, struggling to find the right way to express what you were feeling. “I just… I didn’t want to make things awkward or complicated.”

Kai shook his head slightly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Please,” he whispered. “Just let me share the pain you're going through."

You met his eyes, finally allowing yourself to be vulnerable. “I… I care about you a lot, Kai. More than I thought I could.”

Kai’s expression softened further, and he took a step closer. “I care about you too.”

He didn’t get it. He didn’t understand the implication of what you were trying to say—that you liked him. That you cared about him differently from how you cared about Beomgyu and Taehyun.

You forced a smile. “Thank you. Let’s get back out there.” You nudged his shoulder.

He shook his head. “No.” He gently pulled you back, stopping you in your tracks.

“Kai…”

“No,” he repeated, his grip firm but gentle, careful not to hurt you. He guided you to the wall and leaned you against it softly. “I don’t want to leave it like this. I don’t know what this is, but I don’t feel like we’re okay.”

“We are.”

“You’re lying,” he sighed.

“I’m not—”

“Your eyes,” Kai said softly, “they tell me everything I need to know.”

“Are they telling you anything else?” you asked, your frustration clearly showing. “Since you know me so well, can you read anything else in my eyes?”

“Why are you getting mad at me?” Kai asked, his voice getting slightly louder, confusion and hurt in his voice.

“Because!” you snapped, your voice rising with anger. “Because!”

“Because what?!” Kai shouted back, his own frustration surfacing. “It’s like you don’t even want me around anymore!”

“And who said that? Stop assuming everything about me!” you yelled, your voice trembling with emotion. “Stop acting like you know everything about me!”

“Don’t I?!” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’re always going on about how much you know me, but do you really? You can’t even—” You paused, the words caught in your throat.

“Can’t even what? Notice that you’re avoiding me?” Kai’s voice was tinged with hurt and confusion.

The room was charged with tension. Your heart raced as you faced each other, your eyes locked with his despite your desperate urge to look away. His voice dripped with anger, and his eyes shimmered with a deep, wounded hurt. 

“Have you or have you not been avoiding me?” Kai asked, his voice dropping to a deeper, more serious tone.

“I wasn’t igno—”

“You’re lying.”

“I wasn’t intentionally ignoring you,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with apprehension.

Kai’s shoulders slumped in defeat, his voice cracking with vulnerability. “W-why? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong? Listen, whatever I did, I’m sorry—”

"You didn’t do anything." You sighed, burying your face in your hands.

"Then... why have you been avoiding me?" Kai gently pulled your hands away from your face, lifting your chin so you’d meet his gaze. His eyes searched yours.

“I–”

"You don’t think I’ve noticed? How you've barely been texting me, or the group? We used to talk every day. And now, for the past two weeks, it’s just been me... constantly asking about you. And the only person who seems to know anything is Beomgyu. Not even me." His voice cracked with frustration. "It used to be us. Just the two of us against everything. But now—"

“I—I’ve been going through some things on my own. You don’t have to know everything about me, Kai,” you said, your tone sharper than intended.

It almost felt ironic, and just as infuriating, that he stood there acting as if he truly understood you, when he didn’t even realize the most important thing—your feelings. 

“We’re supposed to be best friends. What happened to being friends till we grow old?” Kai’s voice cracked, as if the weight of the words would somehow pull you back to him.

“Some of us don’t want that,” you snapped, your self-restraint finally shattering. The words left your lips before you could stop them, sharp and unforgiving.

Kai froze, staring at you in disbelief. The hurt in his eyes was unmistakable. Slowly, the grip he still had on your arm loosened, his hands falling to his sides, as though the very act of holding on had become too heavy.

“Kai—” you sighed, realizing your words had gone too far.

“No. I’m—I—” he cut you off, sighing heavily as he pushed his hair back. “I’m an idiot.”

“Kai—” you tried again, your voice softer, unsure of how to fix what had just happened.

He stayed silent, inching away from you slowly. Then, without a word, he knelt down to look at your injured leg. “Feel better,” he murmured, gently tracing the edge of the hasty bandage wrapped around your thigh.

He stood up to walk away, the silence between you growing heavier with each step. But just as he turned, your frustration finally boiled over, pushing you past the breaking point. You couldn't hold it in any longer.

With a voice raw and desperate, you shouted, “I LIKE YOU!” Your eyes were wide and your chest heaved with the effort of the outburst. The words seemed to crackle in the air, and your hands clenched into fists at your sides, trembling slightly as the intensity of your emotions took hold.

Kai froze in his tracks, his back still turned to you. The air between you crackled with the weight of your confession, the echo of your words hanging in the silence. You stood there, heart racing, unable to believe you had actually said it.

Slowly, Kai turned to face you, his eyes wide with shock and something else you couldn’t quite place—hope, maybe? Confusion? Possibly.

You swallowed hard, “I—I didn’t mean to shout,” you stammered. “But I’ve been holding it in for so long, and I just… I didn’t know how else to say it.”

Kai’s expression softened, his brows furrowing as he processed your words. “You like me?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper, as if he wasn’t sure he heard you right.

You nodded, “I just thought if I kept my distance, maybe it would go away… but it didn’t.”

He took a tentative step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling as you spoke. Your hands fidgeted, fingers twisting nervously. “Scared that it would ruin everything between us. Scared you wouldn’t feel the same. And the blind date that Taehy—”

“It wasn’t even that serious to begin with, my sisters were just sick of hearing me complain about–well about you.” he interrupted, his tone gentle but firm. He took a step closer, his expression softening as he reached out, his hand almost brushing yours.

“Me?” 

Kai let out a breath, his shoulders relaxing as the tension between you began to fade. “I never knew,” he said softly, taking another step closer. “But… you didn’t have to be scared. I—”

He hesitated, his voice catching in his throat, before finally meeting your gaze. “I like you too.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Oh,” Kai mumbled, awkwardly scratching the back of his head, clearly unsure of what to do next.

You laughed, the tension breaking slightly. “No one ever tells you what to do after… a confession.”

Kai chuckled softly. “I figured Beomgyu might know what to do. He’s been egging me on to tell you how I feel.”

“He has?” you asked, surprised.

Kai nodded, and a brief silence settled between the two of you, heavy but not uncomfortable. Finally, he spoke again. “I’m sorry.”

“What? Why?” you asked, confused.

“I should’ve told you sooner, when I had the chance. I didn’t realize that keeping it in would hurt you, and that was never my intention.” His voice softened, regret evident in every word.

“That makes the two of us,” you giggled shyly. “Well, I wasn’t exactly broadcasting my single status and going on blind dates, but still—” you teased playfully.

“For the record,” Kai said, scratching the back of his head with a sheepish grin, “my sisters were only sick of me complaining about how much I like you and how much of a coward I am for not telling you.”

“Oh. What exactly have you been complaining about?” You teased.

Kai’s cheeks pinked, “N-nothing. Nothing important.”

“Really? You do know I have Hiyyih’s Insta. I could probably just ask her myself,” you said with a mischievous grin.

“You wouldn’t.”

You nodded, a playful glint in your eye. “I absolutely would. So it’s either you give me a summarized version and keep the details to yourself, or I get the 100% detailed account from Hiyyih.”

“It’s not even—I just… you have to promise me you won’t laugh. Or make fun of me.”

“Promise.” You said, pretending to zip your lips with a playful wink. 

Your eyes were filled with genuine adoration for the man standing before you. His vulnerability was written all over his face, and it only made your heart swell. Your gaze softened, allowing the affection you'd kept hidden for so long to shine through. After years of bottling up your feelings, you could finally show them, even if only a little.

“Well, uh… this is so embarrassing,” he mumbled quietly to himself, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I’d tell them how… uh… pretty you looked every time we went out together,” he said slowly.

“Uh-huh…” You nodded, encouraging him to continue.

“And I’d tell them how you didn’t deserve the guys you were dating. How they were all assholes,” he went on, his voice growing louder and more passionate as he gained confidence with each word.

“And I’d tell them how much you deserve someone who genuinely loves you, someone who knows how funny you are, how quiet you get when you’re overanalyzing something, how loud you become when you're passionate, and how loving and protective you are to the people who matter to you.” He gulped, his voice shaking with emotion.

“How… much I deserved you,” he finished, his gaze searching yours.

You stood there, feeling a rush of warmth flood your cheeks. Your mind raced, but no words came. All you could manage was a soft, hesitant “Umm…”

Kai’s gaze was fixed on you, a mixture of hope and apprehension in his eyes. Seeing your struggle to find the right words, he took a deep breath and gently took your hands in his. 

You hated to admit it, but Kai seemed to be winning the confession game you had inadvertently started.

As his words settled, you found yourself slowly leaning in, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. Kai’s eyes fluttered shut, and he met you halfway. His lips gently brushed against yours, the kiss starting soft and tentative.

Your hands gripped his, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. You felt Kai’s arms wrap around your waist, guiding you gently against the wall.

“God, I like you so much,” he whispered into the kiss.

Just as you were losing yourself in the moment, the abrupt sound of the door slamming open ruined the moment the two of you had.

“WE’RE HOME!” 

Taehyun and Beomgyu burst into the room, their eyes widening in disbelief as they took in the sight of you and Kai locked in a kiss.

“What the—” Taehyun’s voice came out as a high-pitched yelp, his hand flying to his mouth in shock.

The room was filled with a jumble of screams—your and Kai’s shocked cries mixing with Taehyun’s and Beomgyu’s high-pitched shouts. The noise was deafening, with each of you trying to out-scream the other. 

“YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HOME!” you yelled.

“THE GUYS AT THE TOWING COMPANY SENT US HOME BECAUSE THEY LIKED ME! WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO?!” Taehyun shouted back.

“DO YOU EVER KNOCK?!” Kai yelled at the two of them.

“THIS IS A SHARED APARTMENT, YOU IDIOT!” Beomgyu countered.

“Enough about us! What the heck are you two doing? Spit-swapping in front of us like that?” Taehyun yelled.

You and Kai stood there, red-faced and speechless, your hands still intertwined but your mouths firmly shut. The embarrassment was palpable as you both tried to avoid eye contact, your cheeks burning with the sudden realization of being caught.

“We—uh…”

“We—”

The two of you glanced at each other, then back at Taehyun and Beomgyu.

“We…”

“Spit it out!” Beomgyu rolled his eyes, clearly impatient.

“We like each other?” Kai managed to fumble out, his voice trembling slightly.

At that moment, the room erupted into a new kind of chaos. Taehyun and Beomgyu, now visibly relieved and overjoyed, screamed with happiness.

“FINALLY!” Taehyun shouted, his voice a mix of triumph and excitement. “I KNEW IT!”

“Oh my god!” Beomgyu exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight. “We can finally sleep in peace!”

“No more emo Huening Kai nights!”

“No more sad songs!”

Beomgyu and Taehyun grabbed each other’s hands, jumping in circles and celebrating for reasons you couldn’t quite grasp.

“Emo Huening Kai nights?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Every time you went out on a date with someone, Kai would come home with this sad look on his face,” Taehyun explained. “He wouldn’t want to play any games or do anything fun.”

“He’d just pout, act like a baby, order Chinese takeout, and then moan about how the guy you were dating didn’t deserve you,” Beomgyu continued, trying to hold back his laughter.

You looked at Kai, who was now blushing deeply and rolling his eyes in mock annoyance. “Well, that explains a lot,” you said, chuckling.

“When you both explain it like that, it makes me sound pathetic,” Kai said, shaking his head.

“But it was pathetic?” Beomgyu asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I think it’s cute,” you said with a smile.

“Gross,” Beomgyu said, scrunching up his face in mock disgust. “Wait, does this mean we’ll have to see this more often? GROSS!”

“I can’t believe Huening found a girl before us,” Taehyun sighed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It’s possible that the two of you lack a certain charisma,” Kai replied with a teasing grin.

“Oh, and you have it?” Taehyun laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I do have the world’s greatest girlfriend,” Kai said, glancing at you with a proud smile.

“Girlfriend?” You teased, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Who said anything about me being your girlfriend?”

Kai’s face turned a shade redder as he stammered, “Well, I—I just thought—”

“Thought what?” you interrupted, a playful smirk on your lips. “That I’d be your girlfriend even if you didn’t ask? I’m not that easy.”

“I’m sorry,” Beomgyu interjected, “You’re a little confident right now. Aren’t you the same girl who messaged me about how Kai looked like he had the most pillowy, kissable lips you’d ever seen?”

Your cheeks heated up. “CHOI BEOMGYU!”

“Oh, and also that cute little private TikTok you did after you cried over Kai…? Really cute,” Beomgyu continued, his grin widening.

In a desperate bid to stop him from revealing more, you clenched your fists and lunged at Beomgyu. You jumped onto his back and covered his mouth with your hands, muffling his voice before he could spill any more secrets. 

Taehyun and Kai erupted into giggles, but Kai's laughter suddenly faltered as he realized, “Wait… what TikTok?”

“She did a TikTok where—” Beomgyu started, but you quickly shoved your hands over his mouth, pressing down firmly to silence him.

Unfortunately, Beomgyu was way stronger than you. With one swift move, he had you slung over his shoulder, your legs flailing as you tried to wriggle free.

“Fine. I won’t tell. Yet,” Beomgyu said with a mischievous grin.

[naturecalls111]

i love your drawings so much<333 your art is so perfect like the anatomy looks so beautiful!!!! how did you learn to draw that anatomically correct? like do you use a lot of references or do you just know how to draw bodies atp? bc im struggling with anatomy lmaoo

Wahhhhh!!! 🥹 Thank you so much!!! I'm holding this praise very close to my heart right now!!!! I've spent a lot of time over the years doing studies and having images of muscle group diagrams open while drawing, so I'm super happy to hear it paid off!

So I don't really use references anymore when I start drawing and composing the pose, but I absolutely still reference diagrams of muscle groups when I find myself hesitating with the way certain parts of the body may appear. Something like this, for example:

Something that gives me an exaggerated idea of what that part of the body looks like so I can soften it to my liking. My main goal when using reference isn't to do a 1:1 replica, but rather understand What I'm Drawing while I'm drawing it. At this point of my art journey, I'd prefer having more practise in manipulating these muscles than just practising drawing what I can see.

(Worth mentioning I absolutely still practise observational drawing, and it undoubtedly aids this aspect of my drawing, too. I used to use fanart specifically to practise it, but this year I've taken to separating my fanart from my study art because I find that it allows me to be less miserable when it doesn't come out good LOL now I just do oil painting which helps me focus more on general shapes and values)

Using these types of categorised diagrams has also helped me simplify that initial structure of the body when I'm sketching. Having general markers of what muscle goes where definitely helps me set the position of the body in the long run.

I very, very highly encourage the use of references always, but especially when still learning to get more confident with anatomy!!!! Me not using references for poses is very much at the cost of having anatomy that could be even More accurate LOL I merely know where to place the lines to make things look Passably believable. Buuuttt that's also just the process of improving. Imagination is a muscle that has to be trained too. What's been helping me find a happy middle nowadays is drawing with references that cover small parts instead of using the reference for the whole illustration. FOR EXAMPLE!!!

I had drawn this much of the catlaila I recently posted without a reference before I was like.. Huh. I can't really figure out what I want to with the arms, but I also don't know what is Physically Possible to do with the arms here, so I'll experiment with my 3D poser (WHICH BTW I LOVE AND USED TO USE RELIGIOUSLY FOR EVEEERYTHING SO!! GO DOWNLOAD LOL it's called MagicPoser) and I had adjusted the models up to this point before being like, ok yeah this is enough for me to go off of as something that is physically feasible. So the posing of the rest of the models is whatever because I just needed to know what Laila's arms would look like. This was the final linework:

Like, it's still not a 1:1 with the reference, but it's just enough that it seems feasible !! My personal opinion is that sometimes reference doesn't capture the Shapes that I want it to, even if it's more realistic, so it's ok to break rules and just go with your flow lol... It's shocking how many times I've thought references of real human bodies look unrealistic and ridiculous HAHA Hence focusing more on learning the muscle groups/shapes so that I can adjust to my liking without sacrificing the integrity of the anatomy...

Also, not necessarily on anatomy, but I use plenty of references when I need to see things like how tight shirts stretch over breasts, or how cloth sits at a certain angle, or, honestly, hands. I almost always draw hands by looking at my own. I cannot stress enough: I use plenty of references. I am not a magician and I don't have perfect memory, even after four/five years of studied drawing x)))

Anyway. I've yapped so much. I try to be detailed in my explanation of anatomy because god knows how much I struggled with it!!! I STILL do. If you ever catch the link to it, I often stream these drawings and you'll see how many times I duplicate these layers so I can erase whole sections and try again, or how often I'll attempt the position of a leg over and over before I feel its right. The final product is so quick to digest but the process is frustratingly finicky, I promise, LMAO.

I hope this wasn't too convoluted and long, and I wish you the super best on your anatomy journey! If you ever need help and catch me at the right time, I'm totally open to giving any work a second opinion ! :3c

[212-apricity]

mastermind, part four

ok ok ok here's part four i dont rly have much to say here bc i said everything on part three but i hope you like this one and dw guys im gonna try publish part five asap im starting writing it tonight, productive era fr 🙌💯

warnings: slight angst, swearing, injury, protective theo😋😋

masterlist

theodore nott masterlist

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y/n’s pov

“Hello Y/N.”

I look up from my place on the grass where I was tying my shoes.

Oh. Him again.

“Hi, Cormac.” I say with a tight-lipped smile, standing up, and walking over to where I left my broom when I was practising.

Cormac follows me like a lost puppy and says, “So uhm how’ve you been?”

It’s been almost four months of this. He comes over to wherever I am and follows me asking pointless questions about the weather or lessons and it would’ve been fine if he wasn’t making uncomfortable inappropriate jokes in between. It’s December now, nearly time for the Yule Ball and I need to shake Cormac off my tail sometime soon or I'll have no hope of finding a date this year.

“Just fine Cormac, what about you?” I say mindlessly, trying to devise ideas to get him away politely.

“I’m good…would be better with you in my bed though…” he says, smoking at me as I give him a disgusted look and stop walking.

Forget trying to be nice, this guy’s a creep.

“Okay Cormac, let's settle this. What’s all this really about? I mean you’ve been following- no practically stalking me for months now, and if it wasn’t creepy enough without the inappropriate jokes, it sure as hell is now. So what do you actually like me or just want to get in my pants?” I say angrily at him, clutching my broom in my hands so hard, my knuckles turn white.

He looks started by my outburst at first but quickly replies and says, “Uhm no, no! Of course I like you Y/N, I just wanted to know if you had a date for the Yule Ball yet?” with the furrows of my brows he leans forward and speaks lowly to me in a more threatening tone, “Sure would be a shame if the whole school found out the truth about your favourite uncle.”

Sirius? What the fuck?

I push him away, “Get the fuck away from me you freak!” I go to leave before he grabs me by my wrist and speaks again, “Come to the ball with me and I won’t say a word about him to anyone,”

“Cormac let go of me,” I say, struggling in his tightening grip.

“Just say yes. Say yes and I’ll let go and no one will have to hear about your uncle.”

“Get away from me!” I shout at him, stomp on his foot and punch his nose the hardest I could, feeling his bones crunching beneath mine. Or maybe it was both our bones.

I hold my now numb hand and leave him on the empty field holding his bloody nose and groaning while I run straight to the castle.

I run aimlessly for about three minutes, turning every which way not expecting anyone to be out in the hallways at this time, “Everyone would be in lessons right now” I think before, to my surprise, I turn the corner and I’m face to face with Theo.

He takes hold of me from my arms before I collapse into him and looks at me in surprise with a cigarette in between his soft pink lips.

I mumble out a quick ‘Sorry’ and move to leave, maybe go back to my common room to look for Hermione but he stops me before I can go anywhere.

His alarmed eyes and lifted brows look down at the tears on my face and the redness around my wrist and knuckles. He takes the cigarette out of his mouth, discarding it on the floor before putting it out with his shoe, takes me gently by the other hand and leads me to the hospital wing.

“Theo, no, I’m fine don’t worry.” I try and reassure him, “I don’t need Madam Pomfrey all over me right now, a potion from Hermione can fix me right up, I promise.”

He ignores me and takes me to an empty bed, telling me to rest my hand and sit still, before moving away to find Madam Pomfrey.

When shes checked me over and given me the right medications, he stares down at me but doesn't say a word until I ask, “What?”.

His reply is cold and quiet, “Who did this to you?”

I try brushing the question off, “Don’t worry about it Theo, I handled it fine.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” he says, looking down at my bandaged hand, and asks again, “Who did this to you Y/N?”

I sigh before answering, “You promise you won’t do anything illegal?”

“I promise.” he says and I extend my pinky on my good hand towards him. His hard expression softens slightly before he extends his and joins our pinkies together muttering another ‘promise’.

“Cormac. He got mad at me because I didn’t want to go to the ball with him and threatened to tell everyone some things about my family.” I say quietly, looking down.

theo’s pov

I don’t say anything as blood rushes to my head, my knuckles already forming into fists, my jaw clenching and my feet turning around to go find the prick.

“No Theo!’ Y/N says after me, trying to grab my arm and stop me from beating the rat up but I hold her hand as gently as I can and ask her to “Please rest Y/N, I’ll be back soon and I promise I won’t do anything too bad.”

“No Theo, please just drop it, it’s fine.” she tries to reassure me.

“What? No it’s not, first of all, he shouldn’t have touched you in the first place, but to hold you like that and threaten you? He’s begging for it now.” I turn to leave again, trying to find him somewhere in this massive castle, trying to calm down before I remember the look on Y/N’s face and all the anger comes rushing back like an extreme storm wave. Fuck this.

I walk around the castle quickly, keeping my eyes and ears open for any signs of the snake until I catch something near the bushes.

“No man, bitch fucked me right over. Broke my nose and everything. But I mean to be fair I do like them feisty if you know what I mean.” I hear his voice like venom before he laughs with his friends.

Before I know it, I’m being pulled away by Mattheo and Draco as Cormac’s friends grab him by his bloody torn shirt. Splatters of his blood are on mine but nowhere near as bad as his.

I had stayed quiet during the whole fight, speaking only with my punches and getting my message across.

A huge crowd has gathered by this point and I’m being assisted to McGonagall’s office by Mattheo and Draco patting me on the back with the teacher in front of us. I know I’ll get detention for a month, maybe two, and probably won’t be able to play Quidditch for a few weeks either but who cares.

It was for her and I don’t regret a fucking thing.

y/n’s pov

I walk down the great dining hall with everyone's eyes on me, whispering things to people around them. More than usual.

I take my usual seat next to Ginny and Hermione and look around at everyone, asking, “What’s going on?”. Ron, Harry and Hermione look at each other awkwardly before Hermione speaks up, “You don’t know what’s happened?”

“No?”

“That boyfriend of yours beat McLaggen up so bad he’s had to go to St. Mungo’s,” Ron speaks up against the silence and my blood turns cold as my stomach flips over.

“What?!” I say, alarmed.

“Yeah mate, everyone saw it… he was ruthless. Didn’t stop until the bloke couldn’t stand up by himself” Harry agrees with Ron as they turn to look at the Slytherin table behind and see Theo talking normally with his friends.

“He deserved it to be fair, I don’t blame Nott for beating him up the way he did.” Hermione says before asking about my hand.

“It’s all fine now, nothing major just a few broken bones.” I say turning my wrist and flexing my fingers before turning to Ron and answering his previous accusation, “And he’s not my boyfriend Ron, he’s just a friend.”

“Yeah well Harry and Cho Chang are friends but you don’t see him going around beating Cedric up.” Ron says stupidly, making Ginny tense up and Hermione glare at him from across the table as I take Ginny’s hand under it.

“Hey Hermione do you have a spare paper and quill?” I ask after we’ve all eaten our dinner and most of the people in the dining hall have cleared off.

“Yes of course, what for?” she asks, pulling a blank piece of paper and quill out of her bag and passing it to me. “I need to send a note.” I say vaguely before scribbling down:

meet me in the astrology tower after curfew.

I pull my wand out of my pocket and perform the paper bird charm, passing the note to Theo on the other side of the hall.

We all watch as he receives it, reads it and looks up at me, and winks. He asks Pansy for a quill and writes back:

See you there darling

I smile, putting the note into my pocket as Hermione squeals at me, Harry smiles and Ron makes a face of throwing up. “And that Ronald, is why you still don’t have a date to the Yule Ball. Speaking of which Harry do you have yours yet?” 

“Yep, I do actually.”

“Oh yeah? Who is it?” Ron asks looking over at Harry. Hermione and I give each other a knowing look as Harry says, “Uhm, I’m not at liberty to say.”

Harry gets up to leave to escape the conversation as Hermione and I laugh after him and Ron trailing not too far behind, pestering Harry and threatening him if it's his sister.

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“Hey” I hear a soft deep voice behind me as I stare up at the stars from the tower.

I turn around and find Theo wearing a deep red jumper and red plaid pyjamas, holding two cups of hot chocolate coincidently matching with my red plaid shorts and red jumper with my initial on it, courtesy of Mrs Weasley of course.

We smile at each other as he comes close and asks how my hand is, “All better, see” I flex my hand once again to prove it to him and we sit in silence for a few minutes drinking the hot chocolate he’d gotten from the kitchen.

“So,” he starts slowly sipping his hot chocolate and looking over at me in the dim light, “What did you want to talk about?”

I take a breath before answering, “Why did you do that?”

His eyebrows furrow, “Do what?”

I give him a knowing look and he looks away with a smile in response which drops quickly when thoughts of Cormac come back in his mind. “Guy’s a git. Doesn’t deserve you.” He says plainly bringing the cup to his lips again. I look at him for a minute, observing his long eyelashes and soft skin and look away just when he looks at me.

“Have you got a date to the ball yet?” He says in the comfortable silence.

I look back at him getting lost for a moment in his soft blue eyes. I shake my head in response.

He nods, looking down before downing the rest of his hot chocolate and standing up.

He reaches out a hand towards me and pulls me up from my place on the stairs and says, “Would you go with me if I asked?”

I look up at his eyes once again, seeing a hint of fear behind the blue, “If you asked dickhead.”

He laughs at this, nods and kisses me on the cheek before leaving.

“See you later star.”

“Star?” I say in question, my cheeks burning from his touch.

He doesn’t say a word or turn around, but simply holds out his middle finger, flipping me off which confuses me more until I see the silver ring I made him resting at the bottom of it.

I smile to myself as he walks away, leaving my face flushed and heart swollen.

What am I getting myself into.

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

part four done, lmk what you think!!

taglist: @timmytime17 @cherry-hoe @jetblackpayne @ash-tarte @coolestgirlhere

[alicesmindpalace]

I've decided that I'm gonna take the excuse of Anthony's birthday 🎂 as a chance to make a quick post to explain why I love and respect this guy so much.

For context, I have been a Smosh fan since 2013 and as you can imagine, it's been a real rollercoaster 😆, but I am glad I stuck around because in the end it was really worth it.

I think the main reason why I am still around and I'm still here in my late 20's (yeah, I'm old lol) is that Ian and Anthony as people more than as creators, always kinda hit a little different for me.

Ian and Anthony are so precious to me, and I will never shut up about how Anthony deserve a lot more praise and understanding.

Because sure, being good looking in our society is a big advantage but being known as "the hot one" in a comedy duo isn't that easy. Anthony's contributions get overlooked often because of this dumb old mindset and I think it's really unfair tbh.

Anthony has a great sense of humor, even if he doesn't make jokes 24/7 he can immediately recognize what makes something funny, hone in on it and use it to make the situation funnier. He built a media empire doing that if you really think about it! He really found a golden goose and immediately knew what to make of it. Anthony and Ian BOTH (that's right both) have a great sense of humor and it's very compatible, which is why Smosh became a thing imo.

Of course, the best part of this is that you can't have a sense of humor and be stupid, it's impossible, you can be funny and be an idiot yeah, but having a sense of humor needs quick thinking, an ability to recognize subtle patterns, the contradictions, making unexpected connections all of that good stuff, which means that these two guys are also really intelligent.

Which makes sense because Anthony was already building websites when most of the people his age were clicking around on Newgrounds. He created two successful buissness form scratch, the boy is smart! 🙌

He came from nothing and got to where is now which is very impressive.

That's also why another thing that I respect about him, is that he almost never mentions how hard it's been for him during his childhood or uses it to gain sympathy even though it would be really easy to do it. He only mentioned the difficult situation at home and his mother's problems a few times in all these years on camera. He still is mentally struggling these days because he didn’t have an easy life but he doesn't use it to get pity or attention, like a lot of people on the internet do.

He really is one of the only remaining unproblematic internet creators that there are left and he managed to be one of them for decades.

There is no dirt on him. He is a nice person and that's probably the most important thing for me tbh and the reason why I could never just forget of Ian and Anthony or get over them or just swap them for some else. Finding Smosh to me felt as mind blowing as finding two four leaves clovers right next to each other.

Even when things went south and they separated, they were never spiteful or malicious, like (a lot of) other people are in these situations, and both handled it with so much respect. They could have made up stuff and thrown shade or dirt to make themselves appear in the right but they didn't. We maybe not know all the details but even just the way they still love and think of each other now after the worst went down tells you who they really were and are behind close doors.

I have so much more to say but it would get too long, so, yeah, this is (part lol) of the reason I love and respect Anthony Padilla so much.

These are only my thoughts of course, I'm talking for me, but I hope you enjoyed (will probably do one for Ian's birthday as well and talk about more of the reason Ianthony are my all time favorites 🤞).

[hdra77]

hello hi I hope you don't mind me rambling to you but here we go anyway!! I'm brainrotting so hard over rw I need to ramble to someone From the deep magenta pearl from Shaded Citatel:

Trying to decipher the date system, this one seems to be yyyy.dd, or year.cycle. since there are three 0's on the cycle part, we assumed it goes up to 999 (since there are some numbers about as high as 700 in iterator chat logs) before resetting- like 1000.999 -> 1001.000. Now, here is the date on a log from the "I struggle to accept being a bug" conversation between 5P and 7RS. Takes place after the ancients are gone. (from dark blue pearl/dark green pearl in sky islands, the logs are chosen randomly from the ones i'll add below).

So, ancients left somewhere between 1514.008 and 1591.290. Here, the date on where Erratic Pulse participates in some silverist group. (I don't remember if it's actually sylverist or not, a (also from dark blue pearl/dark green pearl))

Here, when they find out about Erratic Pulse. (also dark blue pearl/dark green pearl)

Here, Moon announcing to the local group about Pebbles' increased water consumption. (from dark blue pearl/dark green pearl too)

BSM: Two cycles ago, my neighbor Five Pebbles drastically increased his water consumption to four times the normal amount. He has been unresponsive for a period of time longer than that. The two of us share groundwater, and I have been without water for almost a cycle.

On 1654.110, Moon announces that it's been two cycles since Pebbles increased their water intake. It happened on 1654.008.

Moon did the forced broadcast on 1654.116, 8 days after the increased water consumption started. 8 days of suffering Moon endured before she had no choice other than force communications.

On 1681.662 (keep in mind, we're assuming that each year is 999 cycles), 7RS and CW have a conversation about how badly rotted Pebbles is becoming, and about how Moon has been unavaliable for quite some time. From 1654.108 to 1681.662, which is 26975 cycles (and the average person lives about 29200 days), Moon is suffering with the lack of water degrading her structure (assuming she hadn't collapsed by that point,) and lost any way of communicating with somewhere between those dates.

Where am I going with this? I'm honestly not quite sure, but wanted to share with you just how incredibly long this all takes. All this time, all the effort Pebbles put into reaching ascention, fighting so hard for a freedom he couldn't even be certain he'd obtain- all worth nothing. And in the end, Moon still forgives him.

Ohh interesting!! I never even thought that those numbers were actually dates to begin with 💀 now i feel even more bad for moon

Also feel free to ramble! This is a safe space for any rainworld theories or just rambling about them in general! 👍 i love reading them

[words-with-wren]

@chrumblr-whumblr day three: Carrying

Fandom: Endeavour. Four and a half years and I am BACK I missed these boys even though they break my heart <3 kinda bad but all of these are. Barely any editing OR even proof reading I'm ready 20 minutes late and posting from my phone woopsies

Word count: 2,170

__

It was raining. Morse hunched in his coat, squinting bitterly up at the water coming through the trees. The sun hadn’t even started lighting up the area, and the whole morning had an air of misery about it. 

“Morning, Matey.” Strange’s greeting was altogether far too cheerful for the early hour of the morning and Morse turned his glare onto the other man. Dimly, he found himself for the first time a little envious of the uniform Strange sported--the hat and coat looked altogether far more suited for the weather than Morse’s own clothing. 

Morse just nodded in response, risking a hand from the safety of his pocket to wipe wet hair out of his face. 

“You really think we’re going to find something in this?” Jakes joined the two of them, an unlit cigarette between his fingers, looking positively damp. He was holding a torch in his other hand, the light illuminating the falling rain in a narrow beam. Morse found some small vindication that the sargent looked about as miserable as he felt. 

His vindication disappeared a moment later when Jakes flashed the light of the torch directly into his eyes for a split second. Morse squinted abruptly, blinking at the momentary blindness. He decided he wasn’t in the mood for a fight and assumed that was an accident.

“If there is anything, we should start looking soon,” Morse muttered. He hunched his shoulders, trying to find some comfort in his soaking coat and staring at a single point while waiting for his eyes to readjust. “The rain’ll wash it away soon.”

“If it hasn’t already,” Jakes muttered. He put the unlit cigarette between his teeth. It sagged disappointingly, wet through. Deserved. 

“The doctor said it’d be a knife, ‘bout so large.” Strange held up his hands as he was speaking, indicating a length about five centimetres long. Morse nodded, turning his attention to the woods. 

The chances were low that the murder weapon was still in the woods where the body had been found, but DeBryn had said there had been some kind of struggle, and likely not all of the blood found splattered across the scene was the victim’s. 

It was possible the weapon was still lying somewhere in the woods. Morse was of the opinion that their efforts could be better spent chasing other leads, but orders were orders and now here he was, standing soaked in the rain. 

“Right then,” Jakes said, taking charge of the situation. A few other uniformed officers mingled around and it didn’t take long for a search to be organised, starting from where the body had been found that morning and steadily branching further out. 

Morse found himself trudging through the wet forest, mud on the ground sticking uncomfortably at his boots, sweeping his torchlight over the muddy ground. At least he’d thought to pick up some wellys before heading out--his feet were about the only part of him not soaked through. 

He scanned the ground as he went, hoping something would come up soon so they could all go and get warm and follow more useful branches of inquiry. The route he was following started drifting steadily downhill, and Morse had to withdraw his hand from his pocket to keep his balance, grabbing onto tree branches and trunks as he went, torch held tight in his other hand. 

The mud was slippery and he almost lost his balance more than once, grabbing onto a tree to catch himself. His hair was back in his eyes and he wiped it out of his face again with frustration. 

They wouldn’t even be able to get anything useful out of any evidence they found--a murder weapon would be one thing, but after this rain there was no way they’d be able to get any prints off it. This was all a useless waste of time. 

Something flashed in the light his torch cast and he paused, one hand resting on a nearby tree trunk. He aimed the beam of the torch towards whatever it was, making out something sliver dangling from the branch of a tree. He stepped forward and suddenly a sharp pain bust through his foot. 

He was on the ground before he realised what had happened, face pressed uncomfortably into cold mud. Pain flashed through his foot and he gasped, pushing himself up onto one hand. 

Great, now he was wet and muddy. Not to mention his foot was throbbing in a concerning way. He shifted to sit but had to gasp out in pain, vision flashing white as he moved his foot. 

He managed to catch himself before he fell back into the mud, but the world twisted and spun around him dizzyingly. HIs torch lay on the ground nearby, a beam of light illuminating the mud in an almost golden hue, sparkling dots of rain flashing through the light. 

A root was jutting out of the mud just beside his feet and he glared at it--clearly the culprit that he’d missed in the wet and mud. 

He managed to awkwardly shift into a sitting position and retrieve his torch, eyes watering with pain every time he moved his leg. Supporting himself with one hand, he glared at his foot as though that would make it stop hurting. 

He wasn’t going to be able to walk on that he realised a moment later. With a groan, he started digging in his pockets with one hand, finally withdrawing the whistle Jakes had given him before they left the station. 

He blew sharply on it, automatically blasting out three short bursts, three long, and another three short. Someone would be near enough to hear and come to his aid. While he waited, he turned his torchlight onto the silver thing, still caught in a tree. It looked like some kind of locket, sparkling in his torchlight, and he hoped that whatever picture was in it hadn’t been ruined by the rain. That could be an important clue. 

“Morse?” Strange’s voice called from the trees a few paces away, and Morse could make out the flash of his torchlight. 

“Over here,” he called. “Twisted my ankle.” His voice carried a note of bitterness as he spoke, trying not to think too hard about how this was going to take a few days to come right again. 

Strange appeared through the trees a moment later, still looking positively dry. Morse, sitting propped up against a tree, his leg stretched in front of him, covered in mud and rain, glared up at him.

“You alright, matey?” Strange asked. Morse scowled. 

“I will be. Just give me a hand up.” Strange moved towards him but Morse spoke again. “Wait, before you do.” He flashed his torch at the locket again. “I found that.” 

“Of course you did,” Strange said good naturedly. He followed Morse’s torch beam and carefully tugged the locket off the branch it was stuck on. Tucking it safely into a pocket for later inspection, he turned his attention to Morse, in the process flashing the torchlight into his eyes. 

He squinted, holding a hand up and Strange apologetically dropped the light. 

“Sorry Matey,” he said, clicking the torch off and slipping it into another pocket. That unform coat really did have a number of pockets. 

“You’re as bad as Jakes,” Morse grumbled. But it was noticeably lighter now, and the torches were beginning to not be needed. Morse kept his on regardless--he didn’t want Strange tripping on an invisible root and joining him on the ground. 

“Up you get then,” Strange said, holding out a hand. Morse grabbed it with his free one, but the moment he tried to pull himself up, he jostled his leg and let out a scream of pain. He sagged back, eyes squeezed shut against the flash and steady throbbing coming from his ankle. 

“I’m okay,” he said, waving away Strange’s anxious hovering. “Just let me catch my breath.” 

“I don’t think you can walk on that,” Strange said. Morse just groaned in response. At least his boot was doing a better job at keeping his ankle tight than his usual shoes. Though taking it off was going to be a nightmare. 

That was a later problem, now he had to figure out how to stand up so they could get out of this miserable forest and somewhere dry. 

“Everything alright?” Jakes appeared through the bushes, the morning light strong enough to illuminate his pale face. Morse didn’t have the energy to glare up at him, his foot was hurting too much and his irritation at being seen in such a state by the sargent a secondary matter right now. “No time to be sitting down on the job, Morse.” 

“He’s twisted his ankle,” Strange explained. Morse just nodded. 

“Touch luck,” Jakes said. “Best be getting you to Casualty then.” 

“I would if I could stand,” Morse muttered. He shut his eyes as another wave of pain flushed through his foot. 

“I’ll carry you back,” Strange offered. Morse opened his eyes again, his pride battling for a moment with the pain emanating from his foot. 

“Morse is a skinny blighter but I dunno if you can carry him yourself,” Jakes said, staring down at Morse with a critical eye. Then he flicked off his own torch and tucked it away--it was more than light enough to see by now--and moved to Morse’s side.

Before Morse could really process what was happening, he found himself wedged in between Jakes and Strange, one on either side of him. Both of them tucked an arm under him and their other behind his back and Morse found himself lifted between the two of them. He instinctively threw an arm over each of their necks to stop himself topping forward. 

“Easy goes now,” Jakes muttered. Morse gritted his teeth as their movements jostled his foot, determined not to show any more pain. 

It didn’t take long to get back to where the cars had packed on the edge of the forest. The rain had slowed to a steady drizzle, and Morse felt bone wearily exhausted. He was lowered to the ground and somehow managed to remain standing, leaning almost all of his weight on Strange and holding his foot up. Jakes ducked forward to open one of the cars.

“You finish up here,” he said to Strange. “I’ll get him to Casualty. And then home.” 

Both of them fixed Morse with a long stare at that, but Morse just nodded. He was too exhausted to protest, and right now he wanted nothing more than to sleep off the pain. 

They managed to manoeuvre him into the back seat of the car, where he could stretch his leg out over the seats and Morse only briefly blacked out for a second. 

“Oh, here,” Strange said, fishing out the locket he had tucked away safely. “I’ll see you back at the nick,” he added to Jakes. Jakes nodded from the driver’s seat, a lit cigarette alright between his lips now he was out of the rain. 

Jakes didn’t say anything as he pulled away from the forest, moving quickly along the road. Morse bit down a groan of pain as the movement of the car jostled his foot, but it faded to a bearable dull throbbing soon enough. 

(He kept catching Jakes glancing in the rear mirror. There wasn’t anyone behind them, so he didn’t know why almost every time he looked up he made eye contact through the small glass.) 

“What’s the locket?” Jakes asked, finally breaking the silence. Morse couldn’t help be a little grateful for the distraction. 

He pulled it out, examining it closely. It had initials on it--F.C. The letters seem familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place it yet. Carefully, he pried it open. 

The image inside was of the victim--a young man named Joseph Ethans. 

“It’s got Ethans in it,” Morse reported. He caught Jakes’ eye in the mirror again. “Doesn’t seem like something he’d own though.” 

“A girlfriend’s?” Jakes asked. Morse frowned, biting down a hiss of pain as Jakes took a corner a little too sharply. 

“F.C.,” he mused. Jakes made a questioning noise. “The initials on the locket.” 

“That’s the girlfriend’s name, right?” Jakes said. “Felicity Clarke.” 

“What’s her locket doing out in the woods then?” Morse asked, closing it again and tucking it safely into a pocket. 

“Maybe he was going to give it to her?” 

“I think we may need to question her a little more closely,” Morse said quietly. “DeBryn did say the killing wounds were weaker than one would expect from a grown man.” 

“You think the girlfriend offed him?” Jakes asked. 

“Maybe--aah!” He said the last as Jakes skipped a curb. 

“Sorry,” Jakes said. “Almost there.” 

“We’d better be,” Morse muttered. He shut his eyes, feeling strangely satisfied despite the throbbing ankle. Maybe the morning hadn’t been a complete waste of time after all. 

The rain outside finally made way for a weak winter’s sun. 

[knickynoo]

Back to the Future Part II, The Novel by Craig Shaw Gardner: Thoughts, commentary, and general ramblings

Part 4: Someone buy Doc a gym membership

Previous posts here

• The McFlys are drinking KELP TEA with their pizza dinner. That is some Keaton family behavior. Elyse and Steven would 100% drink kelp tea.

• Ok, I’ve gotta talk about this scene where Doc is struggling to carry unconscious Jennifer to the car: “Doc stopped to catch his breath. Jennifer weighed down Doc’s arms until they were almost numb, and he had barely managed to drag her twenty feet!”

Doc. Are you for real right now, my friend? In part III, Marty slings you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carries you from the car and into the mansion ALL BY HIMSELF in the rain. Up several steps, even! Five foot, four inch Marty. Carrying a six foot one, probably close to two hundred pound man.

And you, sir, just having had a natural overhaul that made you look and feel younger, and being as tall as you are, cannot carry a 5’3” teenage girl across the street??

Perhaps you should set aside some time to start lifting weights, Doc. Not super heavy ones, little ones. Just enough that you eventually reach the point where your tiny little buddy Marty no longer has to be The Muscle in your relationship.

• I must bring attention to the fact that Marty has said, “You’re the doc,” three times, and it bothers me that it’s different from the movie. Where’s that extra “Doc” that’s supposed to be tacked onto the end?? You’re the doc, Doc. Sounds silly without it.

• When Marty climbs in through what he believes to be his bedroom window in 1985A,  and the young girl starts screaming, Marty takes a quick moment to stare at the room in confusion. Among the changes in the room, one of the main things he notices is that his model airplanes are gone, which is a detail that I am currently holding tightly to my chest in a hug.

Marty builds model airplanes! I love that for him. Does he build them alone? With Doc maybe? Dave?? Are they from when he was younger, or is it a hobby our 17-year-old Marty engages in? You know, Marty has to deal with so much and be so mature about things, (and also MJF was in his late twenties by part II) that it’s easy to forget he’s a kid. But then he looks around his bedroom and goes, “Hey, where are my planes??!” and you remember that he’s just a little guy who has been tasked with dealing with a lot of Horrors.

I have to find a way to work the model airplanes into a fic now  thanks.

• The sad, drunk Dave scene that was cut from the movie (but is in the deleted scenes) is in the book. Marty spots Dave stumbling his way through the town, and it’s really a bummer of an interaction. Marty’s pretty horrified at the state his brother is in and tries to get some answers as to what’s happened, but Dave isn’t really coherent enough to help at all.

At one point, Dave tries to convince Marty to go have a few drinks with him, which horrifies Marty further. After pointing out that he’s underage and can’t drink (good boy, Marty), Dave says this

•When Marty tells Dave that he has to find their parents, Dave is disgusted. “Dad? You gotta find Dad? That’s sick, Marty. That’s really sick. What’s the matter with you, anyway?”

He also says, “And since when are you and Mom on speaking terms again?” which is a pretty wild revelation. ‘85A Marty and Lorraine aren’t talking to each other?? This does not fit in with my headcanons of alternate Marty at all. I shall disregard it immediately. :)

• Book Lorraine’s demeanor is noticeably different than Movie Lorraine. She’s speaking to Marty “cheerily”, and as she shows him the newly decorated penthouse, it’s said that she “waved happily at their surroundings.”

What a different introduction from the Lorraine in the movie, who is broken and defeated from the start. I wonder if she’ll continue to be like this as the scenes with her go on.

Still thinking about Marty building model airplanes.

[alpimerealmsystem]

You Can Recover

ED recovery is the best thing I've ever done. I've struggled with orthorexia and then anorexia almost my entire life, it only got severe about a year ago though. About 4 months ago my best friend and honorary sibling more or less forced me to recover. It's been a long journey to say the least. 

When I started recovery I thought I'd never be able to go back to eating normally. My brain would always be running as a calculator. It still is, I can tell you a rough estimate of how many calories I've eaten today and tell you how many cups of cereal is in a bowl because I've measured my food so many times. It still hurts, but now? I'm not obsessively looking for calorie menus of places, and if I can't find one I'm not trying to calculate every thing that went into it.

ED recovery has been one of the most mentally challenging things I've put myself through, but my life has improved so much. Here are some of my favorite things about recovery

I just went to a family dinner and didn't make all the food because I needed to know the calories (still had to make some cause food allergies but y'know)

Choosing the foods I like, not the healthy or low cal versions

CARBS CARBS CARBS (speaks for itself)

I'm not a bitch cause I'm hungry all the time

My periods? They're regular now, I'm not skipping four months at a time (tmi BUT DAMN)

I'm not lightheaded cause I didn't eat and my vision isn't blurring because I didn't eat LIKE THATS AMAZING

SUGAR SUGAR SUGAR

Eating when I want, not what the clock says

I have gone 2-3 weeks without weighing myself (I EVEN LOST TRACK WHICH IS A HUGE DEAL) AND I DONT PLAN TO WEIGH MYSELF TOMORROW

The number on the scale doesn't equal my happiness, I am not mad because I gained 0.2 pounds

I've gained 20 pounds BUT IM HAPPIER WITH MY BODY I love my squishy stomach and back rolls and cellulite and chonky face because it means I am not starving

I don't feel worthless because I'm "too heavy" or "not pretty"

I don't have to buy new clothes every two weeks because my old ones were way to big <3

I'm no longer trying to make sure others see me eat so they don't worry

KEEPING MY STUPID ED BLOG A SECRET (god glad those days are over)

And so much more. Recovery is possible. Recovery is the best thing that happened to me. I know you may be struggling, but it gets better. Everything's not hopeless, even if it feels like it is. Feel free to DM me if you need support or send an ask ^^

I love you, for everything you think is a flaw, for everything you hate about yourself, no matter what it is.

[dangraccoon]

Still Remember

Day 8 ~ forgotten ~ (Alt. Prompt)

Crosshair

Word Count: 590 Content: torture, electric shock, injury, CX-Tech

Crosshair could feel that his eye was bruised and swollen as he groggily opened them. 

“You are awake,” the gruff voice of the clone assassin noted. “Perhaps you are more willing to answer my questions now, CT-9904.”

Crosshair glared at the CX-2. He spat at his feet. 

“How disappointing.”

Crosshair’s ribs pinched, his breathing heavy and ragged. He knew he was going to die here, but he would do so willingly if it meant Omega would be safe.

“It is quite interesting,” CX-2 said, igniting a shock stick. “You have formed such a strong attachment to a being for whom you could not care less only a year prior.”

The assassin turned sharply on his heel, the shock stick mere inches away from Crosshair’s chest. He didn’t flinch or struggle, choosing to stare into his enemy’s dark visor. 

The stick was pressed to his stomach, yet he didn’t scream as the waves of electricity rolled through him. His body shook and strained against the restraints.

“Though what I find more interesting is the loyalty you show to your old squad,” CX-2 continued after he removed the shock stick.

Crosshair fought to catch his breath as the restraints were all that held him upright. His waning weight pulled down against his wrists, lifted and restricted on either side of his head. Between the fatigue and his broken ankle, his legs were doing practically nothing to support him. 

“Even after they knew of the inhibitor chips’ ability to alter a clone’s mind, they still abandoned you on Kamino. CT-9994, you must be aware that during Omega’s time on Tantiss, she was never harmed. It is well known that she came to visit you quite often. You could easily tell me her location as revenge on your former sergeant.”

Crosshair glared, straining against the binders. 

“No one fought for you,” the assassin continued. “Except for… one.”

Crosshair failed at hiding his confusion. 

“One of them fought with the others to bring you back, to force you back onto the ship. The one person who had always been by your side, Crosshair.”

Crosshair’s eyes widened. Not once in the… three? Maybe four days he’d been imprisoned had the other man called him by anything but his number. CX-2 was setting the shock stick down, and had begun to remove his helmet. 

“Your twin,” he muttered. “The one brother who was always in your corner. The one who would give his own life for the chance of finding you. You have forgotten him, but I will ensure you remember.”

The helmet was set on the table and Crosshair realized he was face to face with a twisted reflection. 

The clone before him stood at his height. His face and build were so similar. His light hair had been buzzed down to the skin like Crosshair’s own had when he was with the Empire. Instead of seeing his own reticle tattoo, gnarly circles of scars ringed his eyes where his goggles should have been. 

“Tech?” was the first thing out of Crosshair’s mouth in the last few days, his voice hoarse and coming as barely a whisper. 

“No, I am CX-2,” he answered. His voice was almost the same as Crosshair remembered, but it was missing its melodic quality. “‘Tech’ died on Eriadu.”

“Y-you’re—”

“‘Tech’ died looking for you.”

“You’re still my brother,” Crosshair rasped, pleading with his twin. “I won’t leave you behind. Tech, I still remember you.”

“‘Tech’ is dead,” CX-2 asserted. “You will soon join him.”

The shock stick thrust into his chest.

« Previous Day Next Day »

Thanks for reading! - River

Whumptober 2024 Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @writing-positivelyexisting @nekotaetae @lokigirlszendaya @get-wr3ckered @jediknightjana @idoubleswearimawriter @lucyysthings @unstable-kiwi @6oceansofmoons @l3xi3luv @winter-phoenix1995 @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @Padawancat97 @flowered-bicycles @error6gendernotfound @techs-goggles9902

[chaotictarlos]

I’ve always dreamed of me and you, now here we are

ship: Tarlos | fandom: 911 Lone Star | author: chaotictarlos | read on ao3

Rating: Explicit | Warnings/Tag: Secret Dating AU, Social Worker!Carlos Reyes, Professor TK Strand, ex’s to lovers, warnings to be added, smut in later chapters, m x m, anal sex, m x m smut

Summary: It’s a tale as old as time, meeting the right person but during the wrong time of life. TK Strand and Carlos Reyes dated in college but parted ways when they graduated, not knowing they would ever see each other again. Six years later, Carlos is working as a social worker in Travis County and TK has just accepted a position as a professor at The University of Texas at Austin. They run into each other when a mutual friend invited TK out for the evening.

Authors Note: I stepped away from this fic for a few months because some people can be so mean and hateful that they made me feel like I shouldn't continue it because they didn't like the direction the story was going / how the characters were being. I'm still struggling with this fic, but I'm trying to overcome it because not every fic has to be liked be everyone. Not every fic is written for everyone. There are millions of fics out there and I don't like every single one of them. That's okay. There are plenty of Tarlos fics that I don't like, but I don't make it the author's problem because it's not their problem. If you don't like this fic, that's okay but keep that to yourself. If you do like this fic, I would like to hear about your thoughts. I'm going to try and get back into this and get it finished up soon, but we'll see how I feel about it.

Thank you to @noxsoulmate for beta'ing for me. I hope you guys are enjoying this fic as much as I am! Leave me a comment and check out my other fics!

Prologue | Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

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Chapter Eight

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When Carlos shows up at the place he’s supposed to meet the guy that Marjan has set him up with, he’s early - almost too early for it to be considered normal but he’s nervous. It’s been some time since he’s gone out on an actual date and not just found someone at a club or bar to hook up with for the night.

He takes a look around the restaurant, trying to decide if he wants to find a table to sit down at or get a quick drink at the bar - when his eyes land on TK.  

Carlos feels his stomach turn slightly. 

TK’s out on a date and for a moment that’s all Carlos can focus on. He looks hard at the man he’s with and realizes it’s not Michael. Carlos also knows Michael - there was a time when Paul tried to set him up with Michael but he wasn’t really Carlos’ type.

No, this is another guy. A new guy.

Carlos feels his stomach twist into knots and the unfamiliar and ugly feeling of jealousy fills his veins too. He hates the feeling but the longer he stares at TK and his date, the more it grows. He turns on his heel and heads straight for the bathroom, needing a moment to breathe and get his head on straight before his own date arrives.

Carlos steps up to a sink and grips the edges, looking down and letting out a deep breath. He’s being ridiculous, is what he’s being. There’s no reason for him to continue to pine after TK and what could have been. If TK wanted any part of that - of him - he’s had plenty of time to say something but instead he’s gone on a few dates with other men - which is fine, TK owes Carlos nothing and Carlos knows that.

He looks up at his reflection and reminds himself that he has also had plenty of chances to tell TK that he still has feelings for him and has thought about what it would be like to try again, but he hasn’t said anything either. He rubs a hand over his face and tries not to mess up his hair.

He squares his shoulders and looks at himself intently.

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tags: @strangefurychaos @sapphire11 @first-kanaphan @noxsoulmate @rangergurlgleek1211 @detective-giggles @lonestardust @bubblesandroses8 @thebumblecee @mooshkat @importantbailiffpaperpony @a-j-cowwley @meditating-honey-badger @paperstorm @otter-love-asl @kiloskywalker @angeltk @firstprince-history-huh @brouill3r

[armandgender]

I am trans dean content starved, so please gimme a little crumb, a little something something, a measly little headcannon (or 30), a rant, anything, I beg of you 🙏 I am on this hellsite only for trans dean Winchester content and I just know you know what's up fr

okay sorry this took SO long to respond to but nothing was coming to me. anyway here’s 822 words of a trans dean s12 rewrite where Mary comes back and they both have to cope with how much everything has changed

—

When he spots her, shrouded in that nightgown, long hair as golden as he remembers, he assumes that Amara lied—that her gift for him was to die, and to go to heaven.

That wouldn’t be a bad gift, actually. To finally rest.

But this doesn’t feel like paradise. There’s still an ache in his knees and his upper back, and he’s almost choking on the sticky summer heat.

He takes a few steps, hands flexing, cautious. “Mom?”

Mary rises from her seat and fixes him with a look that lands somewhere between fear and confusion.

When she doesn’t say anything, Dean struggles to fill the silence himself. “Are you.. really…” he struggles to find the words, heart hammering in his throat “…real?” One hand extends towards her shoulder, shaky. It might just pass through.

But before he can make contact, she whips both hands across to grab his arm, hooks her foot around his leg, and slams him face down into the grass. She plants a foot against his neck to hold him there, surprisingly strong.

Yeah, she’s real.

“Where am I?” She demands, the smallest waver in her voice giving away her fear. “Who are you?”

This is gonna be a hard one to explain. “Ah—“ he grunts as she presses her heel harder against his neck. “I’m your son.”

“…Sam?” She starts to ease up.

Oops. “The other one.”

The air hums with cicadas. Dean is suddenly grateful for the fact that he’s facedown in the dirt, because he hasn’t had to acknowledge this truth about himself with anyone in a long, long time, and his face feels traitorously red.

“Deanna?” He tries, the name feeling ancient and foreign, like something he’d read out of one of the old lore tomes back in the bunker.

“No… my Deanna is four years old, and…”

Dean shifts beneath her, taking in a shaky breath. “A girl? Yeah. Didn’t stick,” he jokes.

She tightens her grip painfully.

“Ah— mom. I was four years old when you died,” he reminds her, shaky.

In a flash her grip is gone, feet scuffing in the grass as she stumbles back. Dean rises, palms out to catch the next attack—but Mary is bracing herself on the bench, bent over at the waist like she might throw up.

Believe it or not, Dean knows the feeling. The human brain doesn’t really want to remember its own death, and it hurts like a bitch when it all comes racing back in. He keeps his distance, trying to remember how Mary sees him—imposing and unfamiliar. A stranger.

That’s what he sees reflected in her eyes when she finally looks at him again.

“Listen, I know it sounds insane. I know,” he starts, but trails off, losing his pace. That’s his mom. Not a ghost. Not a memory. She’s real.

“How long have I been gone?” She asks, finally getting her balance back.

“Thirty-three years.” Longer than she was ever alive. Long enough that Dean has all but erased any trace of the child she remembers. “And you’re…” she looks him over again, seemingly at a loss for words.

“Dean,” he supplies. He tries to take it as a compliment when she looks skeptical. It would be hard to imagine him as a four year old girl, looking at him now. He’ll give her that.

“Listen, I… I know you, okay? You met John Winchester in 1972. Didn’t like him much at first but he grew on you, and the two of you got married in Reno in 1975. Your idea.” He huffs out a laugh, trying to ignore the anxiety building in his gut. “Your favorite song is Hey Jude. We used to dance to it in the kitchen. I tried to cheer you up by putting it on when dad walked out on us for a few days.”

Mary’s gaze softens. Dean searches her eyes, dying for an ounce of recognition. Love, even. Would she still love him?

She takes a few steps closer, stretching out a hand to rest against his chest, over his heart. Like she’s making sure he’s real. “Dean,” she repeats, trying the name on for size.

“Hi, mom.” Nice to meet you.

They teeter on the edge for a moment. Dean is ready to turn away. To hide his face when she rejects him.

Instead she takes a step forward and wraps her arms around him, warm and tight and god, she even smells the same. It’s a scent that doesn’t quite have a name. Just the scent of home, and of safety. Somewhere under his thickened skin, there’s just a four year old kid hanging onto his mother, burying his face in the soft fabric of her nightgown.

They linger there. It’s Mary who pulls away first. Dean turns to look towards the road, desperately trying to blink away tears. “We should, uh… everyone thinks I’m dead. We should get going.”

[moonlite-drabbles]

Underwater Caves (must be mapped) - Freminet x Mika

cws: cave diving, awkward interactions (to start), earthquakes, non-fatal injury, technically canon compliant.

~

He first met him four hundred feet underwater.

Well, met is the wrong word. Freminet saw the boy—dressed in a deep blue Mondstadt Knight uniform, exploring the very same underwater caves that Freminet was diving in. And so, out of both curiosity and shyness, Freminet decided to neither leave him alone, nor introduce himself.

So, for the past few days, Freminet had been… trailing behind, so to speak.

Aside from his attire, it was obvious he was not native. It was almost endearing, watching him struggle to figure out how to use water spirits to fight beneath water, or watching him stumble into a current and get dragged across the rolling underwater plains.

Freminet knew it was slightly creepy—well, incredibly creepy—but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Lyney and Lynette were the public figures after all. And besides, Freminet had been diving professionally for years, and one of the most common types of job given to him are rescue missions; which commonly turn out to be body recollection missions. Freminet has seen his share of bloating, discolored corpses trapped in diving gear—both expensive and cheap.

Sure, the boy had a vision—cryo, like him—meaning he couldn’t drown within the bounds of Fontaine, but there were other ways to perish.

Still, stalking was… bad. Very bad. Unless Father requested it of him, he didn’t do it.

So, the next time he saw Mika surface in the air pocket of an underwater cave system, he resolved to actually meet the boy, planning to reveal himself and say hello.

He took a breath, steadying himself as he stood—hid, more like—a little ways away. Before either building up the courage or losing the nerve though, the other boy spoke.

“Hello?” The boy called out. “I-I know you’re there.”

Oh. Oh archons. The boy knew Freminet was there. Well—Freminet was going to show up anyway, but still, it was different when he was out on a timer.

Freminet shuffled out into the open where the boy could see him, giving him a small wave. “…hi.”

The blue eyed boy—and wow those eyes were very blue—smiled awkwardly, tilting his head. “Ah—well, I don’t mean to really be blunt, but, I-uh, have noticed you following me while I dive for the past two days.”

“Oh.”

“Ha—yeah. Um, what—may I ask what that’s about?”

“Oh. You… didn’t seem very confident diving. I didn’t want you to get trapped down here. Plus I was in the area... sorry.”

“Oh—well, that’s fine, I guess. My name is Mika.”

“Oh I’m Freminet.” The conversation lulled for a moment, then, with great effort, Freminet spoke again. “You’re a knight, from Mondstadt, right?”

“Yes, I am a frontline surveyor for the Knights of Favonius.” Realizing how that may sound, he quickly amended; “I’m not on duty though! I do a lot of cartography for the knights—and just cause I like it. I’m on vacation right now technically, ha… not making illegal Military maps for Fontaine.”

“This isn’t the best place to map if you were, anyways.” Freminet shrugged. “No use in mapping ruins if you were doing stuff in the military.”

“I suppose not… oh, sorry, you’ve been standing there so long. Feel free to sit! I always pack extra food too—“

“Thank you.” Freminet said, taking a seat beside Mika.

“So uhm, Freminet, right?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a diver.”

“I am.”

“That’s cool.”

“Thanks.”

Silence.

“Um… what do you do?”

Mika looked at Freminet, an almost concerned tilt to his eyebrows. Oh, right, Mika had already told him.

“Knight. Right. Sorry. I’m not good at this.” Freminet looked away, embarrassed. No. Mortified. Ah, of course he was messing this up. He should have never even approached Mika. Why wasn’t Lyney here—

Mika laughed. Freminet snapped out of his spiral, enchanted by the light chime of Mika’s bubbly laughter.

“Ha—sorry! Sorry! I’m not laughing at you I promise.” Mika struggled to restrain his laughter. “Don’t worry—really. I’m terrible at this too.”

Freminet smiled, a bit awkward, a bit strange, no teeth or mirth to it, but still, he smiled. “What are you mapping?”

“I-oh. Like I said, I’m mapping the ruins down here. I’ve not really worked underwater before, but these are all really interesting. The terminology and key signals for underwater mapping are very interesting too, ha.”

“Will the maps be damaged if they get wet?” Freminet asked quietly.

“Not these ones, the ink and the parchment are waterproof, and covered in a waxy layer. Still, I like to do my mapping on dry land, just in case. Writing underwater can be difficult.”

Freminet nodded, not quite feeling the obligation to respond.

“I'm headed in deeper, since I should have the supplies. I found the remnants of a cave-in earlier today. The—um, floor of the cavern up ahead was the ceiling to one under it, so when it shifted the new path was opened.”

Huh. Freminet would have to take note of that. Quietly, he spoke up. “Well, the deeper in, the more common underwater tremors are. If that part of the cave was unstable, others can also

Mika’s shoulders drooped a bit, catching onto what Freminet was saying. “So you think I shouldn’t proceed?”

“I, sorry, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Mika smiled a bit. “No—Don’t worry about it! I’d be a fool not to listen to the diving expert on this.”

Still, Freminet felt a small pang. Mika did seem excited…

“I could go with you. I’m good at recognizing the warning signs. Besides, I’ve been here a lot.”

“Oh, no, really, I’ll just head back to the surface, no need to accommodate me—that’s fine, r-really!” Mika rushed to reassure him, and Freminet suddenly felt even more bad. Still, the thought of helping the Mondstadt boy through the ruins and caverns made his heartbeat jump.

“I would like to help, if you’d want me to.”

“I—well. If you like to. But only if I can pay your commission fee. You’re a professional, right?”

“…Yes.” Freminet answered. “But I’m really willing to do this free of charge.”

“No, really, I want to pay! Especially if I’m taking your time.”

“…alright.” Freminet agreed. Then, suddenly, he remembered he was down here for a reason. Right, work. “But, we’d have to do it tomorrow. I have to finish my current job.”

“Is it anything I can help with? Since you're helping me?”

Freminet shook his head. “I already completed it. I just need to surface and turn it in.”

“Alright, then I’m probably going to resurface as well, I’d rather not stay here overnight…”

“We can go together…?” Freminet offered, somewhat nervously, as if he might be rejected. But Mika just smiled.

“Sure!”

~

Mika followed Freminet’s route back through the water to the surface, trusting him to lead them correctly. The thought made Freminet feel sickeningly nervous and a little prideful all at once.

Mika was a sight, gliding through the water. Of course, Freminet knew this when he was watching him, but it was different up close. He was slim, not containing the specific muscle build that a diver like Freminet had, lean, with long legs despite his stature. He was almost doe-like. The wetsuit he was in helped too. Freminet wondered how he’d look against the Fontainian countryside, or bounding through forests, over fallen logs and exposed roots.

He pretended the chill of the water was to blame for his blush. Mika didn’t notice after all.

He probably should have taken the direct path back up to the city, but something in Freminet had him taking Mika through the scenic paths, past the sea otters and the titalgia, the kelp and the spirit creatures.

Mika let out a small laugh as a stingray weaved around him, reaching his hand out to skim over its back. Freminet paused in the water, waiting for him, face carefully blank. Mika apologized sheepishly, flashing a small smile and a scratch to the back of his neck, before swimming to catch up.

Coming to the harbor, the sky had darkened, even if the sun didn’t quite dip over the horizon yet. It must have been late, dinner time. He usually didn’t stay out this late.

Probably why both Lyney and Lynette were waiting by the docks.

“Freminet!” Lyney called out, waving before trotting over to them, Lynnette following slowly.

“Hi.” Freminet responded.

“You’re later than usual.” Lynette said, her eyes catching on Mika. “And you brought… someone.”

“H-hello.” Mika greeted his siblings with a small wave, a bit of a nervous tint to his voice. He turned back to Freminet. “Thank you for your help, Freminet. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

Freminet nodded. “It was of no issue. Have a nice day, Mika.”

“Bye!” Lyney waved after him, Lynette simply watching as he disappeared.

As soon as Mika was out of sight, two, catlike eyes snapped to him.

“Who was that?” Lyney asked, a grin stretched across his face.

“Nobody.” Freminet answered, too quickly. Immediately he regretted it—Mika obviously was somebody. And now he caught the catlike attention of his siblings. He should have just said he was someone who got lost. Freminet mentally steeled himself. “Well—I mean. I met him in the bay. He’s not from around here.”

Lynette, who had at some point summoned a cup of tea, tapped her spoon on the edge of the porcelain cup, “Mondstadter accent. Rented wetsuit. Seems true enough.”

“Meeting up with him tomorrow though? How interesting. Did you accept a commission?” Lyney wondered.

“I—yes. I suppose I did.”

“You don't accept spontaneous commissions though.” Lynette said.

“Not once!” Lyney added, suddenly at Freminet’s side.

“Seems our baby brother made a friend.” Lynette added too casually, before sipping her tea.

“Hm, by the looks Fremi gave him though… maybe not…”

Oh no. Oh nonono. Freminet stood, mortified as his siblings took the situation and sprinted with it, matching catlike mischief on their faces. “Guys…”

“Sooooo…” Lyney’s voice startled Freminet from his trance. His brother practically danced around him, ignoring Freminet’s attempts to bat him away before he flung himself over Freminet’s shoulders. “A Mondstadt boy? How unexpected!—especially from my sweet baby brotherrrr—”

“Lynette.” Freminet said quietly, calling out for his sister to save him. To have mercy.

“It is intriguing.” Lynnette said. “What was his last name again?”

His only savior, betraying him. “It’s—it’s not—we’re—I’m not-!”

“Shh.” Lyney cut him off. He was in front of him now, tutting his finger. “Don’t worry, big brother Lyney is gonna help you get the boy.”

“After a background check.” Lynette reminded him, tapping her spoon against the rim of her teacup.

“Aaand a little bit of reconnaissance.” Lyney agreed.

“Please don’t.” Freminet whispered, head hung low. This was the worst outcome.

“Don’t worry your dear little head, baby brother. Everything will be just fine. Just let your wonderful big siblings work our magic!”

“I’m not interested in him, I’m just helping him out a bit—he’s not an experienced diver.”

“You were staring at him like you wanted to tear open his back panel and look at his components, Freminet.”

“I wasn't—what does that even mean?”

“Bad analogy, brother.” Lynette, finally, decided to have mercy. “And don’t worry about it Freminet, I’ll keep Lyney out of trouble.”

“I’d prefer if you kept out of it entirely. It’s just a commission, you don’t need to stalk him…” Freminet tried one final time.

His siblings both just smiled, and Freminet decided maybe it was time to die.

~

Freminet had woken up early, prepared all his gear, and was out the door before the sun was even over the horizon, the sky that light blue that came before sunrise. Perhaps it was a bit overkill, but without a specified time, Freminet didn’t want to be late.

When he arrived at the docks though, he mentally berated him for his stupidity. Who would come out at six in the morning? Likelihood was that Freminet would wait upwards of two hours for Mika to arrive. He paces the empty docks. What should he do? What would he say?

Ultimately, Freminet decided that, since Mika had shared his food with him yesterday, he’d go to a nearby cafe and grab something for the both of them. To pay him back, of course. Besides—His client etiquette was something he needed to work on, according to both Lyney and Father.

Somewhat impulsively, he spun around, heading towards a cafe near the docks.

He stared at the pastry displays, would a Mondstadter like coffee? It’s not very popular over there, he thought. Mondstadt was known for wine, and if not wine, grape juice. Eggs were a safe bet—Everywhere eats eggs, right?—maybe a breakfast sandwich. Or would he like something sweet? Fontaine was very good at sweets.

Eventually, Freminet decided on a Fontainian classic. A couple sweet croissants—Fontaine was incredibly good at executing them, and unless Mika disliked sugar, he should like these.

But what if he did? Freminet hesitated, should he also grab something else, maybe something less sweet? Before he could make any changes, the cashier had wrapped up the breakfast and Freminet had no choice but to scuttle out the door.

He trotted back back to the docks, the little to-go bag clutched in his hand. Upon arriving, he nearly jumped seeing Mika, sitting on the pier. Mika heard him apparently, head turning.

“Oh! Hello Freminet, sorry if I’m a bit early. I set out early then realized maybe that wasn’t the best idea, ha.” Mika looked… bashful, maybe. People were difficult.

Freminet froze a moment, taking in the sight of Mika sitting at the dock, legs dangling off the side, tips of his feet skimming the water, making little ripples. He was in the wetsuit from yesterday. It looked good above water as well. Mika was lean and a little on the shorter side, but it helped him. Freminet took a small breath.

A moment of silence, before they both spoke: “I brought us breakfast-”

Another moment of silence, staring at one another. Freminet’s face felt hot—he really hoped he wasn’t blushing.

Mika smiled awkwardly. “Oh—wow. Ha. Seems we both had the same idea. If you like, we can pack one of ours up for a snack later?”

“Sure. Um—We can eat yours now?” Freminet carefully lowered himself to the dock, sitting next to Mika.

“If you want.” Mika said, a bit quieter. He handed Freminet a small, paper wrapped piece of food.

It was a homemade breakfast sandwich. Sunny side up egg, lettuce, ham, and cheese on some sort of bagel like bread. He felt sort of embarrassed, since this was obviously homemade. Freminet wasn’t often one for this type of food, but it tasted really good, and he couldn’t help but finish it in mere minutes—something he quickly felt embarrassed about when he looked back to Mika and realized he was only about halfway through his sandwhich.

Mika just laughed though. “Ha—I suppose it’s not just the other knights who enjoy my cooking.”

“It was good. Thank you.” Freminet used the excuse of wiping his face to turn away.

“I—Well—You’re welcome.” Mika turned away as well. “Uhm—so, I have all the maps written out, leading up to the caves we’ll be going into. I’m not sure if we’ll have access to those little ocean spirits—you know, the blue sea creatures that give you abilities underwater?—I don’t know if there'll be any inside the ruins so I marked off the places where I spotted some yesterday.”

“They’re called aberrants. And that’s good. We should steer clear of the destructive ones… the crab and the jellyfish.”

“Y-yeah. I’d rather not trigger a cave-in. Perhaps you could grab a blab—uhm, sorry; I’m not sure how to pronounce it, ‘blubber beast?’, and I’ll grab the hunter's ray.”

Freminet nodded once. “That’s a good idea.”

Mika smiled, cheerful. “Alright. Ready to dive in?”

~

The plan was this: acquire the aberrants needed, based on Mika’s map, head into the caves and ruins they were in before, and dive as deep as possible while Mika mapped and Freminet kept them safe.

It was an easy job. An easy order—and Freminet was excellent at blocking the world out and following commands.

But he just couldn’t seem to tune the world out when Mika was there. Freminet looked to him often—not unusual, for him to try to gauge the emotions of an employer, but he was looking far to much, and was far to invested in how much Mika was enjoying himself.

So much so, he didn’t heed to warnings the ocean gave him when the shallow fields where hunter rays would roam were strangely empty.

He just shrugged, gesturing for Mika to follow him to the next spot, the trench where blubberbeasts liked to sleep.

No aberrants there either.

The sea was… tranquil. Barren. The way the shallows got when a downpour would scare the fish away. The ocean still as it’s residents hid. It wasn’t the most unusual, but…

They had until dark to get into and out of the ruins—it was a one day trip, and swimming home in the dark wasn’t a good idea—even in the shallows. The two of them were operating on a clock, so to say.

When their search came up empty yet again, Freminet bit his lip, hesitating for a second, before he made the gesture for the two of them to surface.Mika, of course, nodded, following him up until they broke the surface of the water, treading.

Mika’s breaths were a bit heavy. Despite the fact his vision allowed him to breathe in water, swimming was still an exhausting task that strained certain muscles—ones that a foreigner wouldn’t have developed. It was strange to think swimming wasn’t a way of life within Mondstadt. Diving? Sure, it’s dangerous as a baseline and not many in Fontainians even do it. But swimming was basically a part of the people of Fontaine. Some learn to swim before taking their first steps. Mika didn’t have that experience.

Watching Mika’s slightly red face, Freminet suddenly became aware that time wasn’t the only limit they had. Mika could only swim for so long. This was really strenuous for him. “We should take a break on the shore.”

“Hm? Oh—right. We should… probably come up with a plan.” Mika nodded, beginning to swim for the nearest beach.

Freminet moved to grab his forearm, the way he usually did when pulling drowning men to shore, only to realize before he touched Mika. He was fine—just panting. No need to coddle him.

They came to the shore, Mika sitting down in the sand, feet still in the water and Freminet following suit.

It didn’t take long for Mika to catch his breath. Just a minute—Freminet kicked himself for overreacting. He was to busy kicking himself, he didn’t realize Mika was speaking.

“—anyways, really sorry about the aberrants. They were marked down but it seems I didn’t account for everything.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Freminet responded. “Sometimes that happens. Probably just means something big came through, or the currents changed suddenly.”

“Y-yeah. I guess you’d know. Shame though, that we can’t go down today. Suppose this will have to wait until the next time I’m in Fontaine.”

Wait—“You leave soon?”

“No—not quite, but the time up until my departure I’m busy—there are some requests that will take a few days to carry out, and then I’ll leave the night after I finish. Sorry about wasting your time—I-I’ll be sure to pay you in full though!”

Freminet froze, somehow the concept of Mika’s departure hadn’t even crossed his mind. “Oh.”

“S-sorry.” Mika said sheepishly.

“I mean. We still have time—If you’re alright with it, we can go down and try to find an aberrant in the cave. Or we can just go without one. Only if you’re fine with it though.”

“I… I guess I won’t get this chance for a long while.” Mika shot a look towards the tranquil waters of the sea in front of them. The blue curtain of the ocean, with the glare of the sun reflecting off it. It looked so calm, and the feeling of <em>this-will-go-fine</em> was tempting.

Freminet waited.

Mika took in a breath, “Alright. Let’s go.”

~

In retrospect, Freminet should have dragged them back to the surface

The quiet scratch of the quill against Mika’s parchment. The clicking of Pers’ clockwork insides.

The small air pocket they were resting in was silent. But it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Mika was content to map. Freminet was content to tinker.

They’d been in the caverns for nearly an hour, and they’d just recently reached the stretches of the cavern that was unmapped. So far everything was fine—they hadn’t come across any aberrants, but hadn’t met any enemies or obstacles that necessitated them either.

Aberrants were strange creatures—or ‘spirits’, as some people referred to them. They were incredibly in tune with their enviroment, and recided in the same ecosystems as their more physical counterparts.

Still, as a diver, Freminet felt a little… bare, without the power of an aberrant on his shoulder. He had his claymore, but that would be difficult to wield underwater. Oh well.

“One moment. I’m just about done.” Mika said distractedly. His eyes were trained down on the, parchment, quill scratching across the paper quickly. Freminet didn’t know anyone could write that fast, let alone draw.

Mika suddenly stopped, looking over his work with a scrutinizing eye. He set his quill aside for his ruler, carefully measuring each line of his. Making sure they were proportional.

“How often would you say these caves shift in measurements?” Mika asked. “I want to add notes about margins of error in case anyone needs to travel these.”

“… well, the water currents will slowly widen the passages over time by wearing down the walls and carrying off the minerals, but that takes multiple decades. Other than that, it’s only really cave in’s, or thermal vents acting abnormally that will change the layout… or earthquakes.”

Mika nodded, noting that down. “How frequent are earthquakes?”

“The lower you get the more common they are. Usually they’re small, and hardly ever noticed on the surface. Just one won’t affect the caves too much. But unsteady rocks can shift, or weak rock can crack.”

“Alright, what’s the correlation between depth and their frequency? Is there any specific checkpoints where they get more—”

They went silent as the very rock they sat on, shook.

“… uh, F-Freminet?” Mika whispered, staring at the ground, frozen.

The shaking continued for four, long seconds. Neither of them moved, except for Mika turning his head to him, eyes wide, silently asking him what to do.

The shaking stopped, and Freminet could finally breathe.

He, alone, was used to the phenomenon. It wasn’t too common, something he’d only experienced a handful of times, but not something that’d freak him out. Usually.

Still, with Mika next to him, actual fear flooded his veins, icier than his vision.

“Well, I—uh… didn’t expect that. Haha…” Mika joked, but he was obviously uneasy, what with his labored breaths and the way his hands shook as he packed up his mapping equipment.

Freminet didn’t respond, turning to his depthometer.

“W-Well. You said this was pretty normal, right? Are we able to continue or should we surfa—”

Archons damned, the ground shook again.

The second tremor set the entire day into context. The missing aberrants—they’d follow their living counterparts, who could sense the changes in the earth, heading out of the region affected by the tremors. The region they were in.

“We have to surface.” Freminet said immediately, grabbing Mika by the wrist and summoning his helmet.

“Wha—you said this was normal, though?”

“We’re not deep enough for a small earthquake to be this strong, or have multiple tremors. We need to surface.”

“I—alright, let’s go.” Mika, for a moment, seemed… scared. A moment later though, he nodded, schooling his face. He hopped up, securing his extra things—his bag, notebook, etcetera—to his body, “Are we in immediate danger?”

“It’s hard to tell. Let’s go.”

They left the air pocket, returning to the underwater caves, traveling through them, working together to retrace their exit.

With Freminet’s underwater experience, being used to remembering his path and turning tail, as well as Mika’s maps, it wasn’t the most difficult to start on the path back.

The rock around them only trembled once as they started to leave. Five minutes in, everything seemed calm. Seemed.

Then, the ceiling happened.

The ceiling. The damn cavern ceiling.

They were in a smaller corridor, easily fifteen feet tall, with deep sea foliage splattered throughout it. Coral and kelp framing the dark cave. It wasn’t even claustrophobic. It should have been safe. Safe-ish. Until he heard it.

It shifted, once, twice. Tettering, deciding whether to collapse. The creak of stone—

Freminet swam faster, hand tightening around Mika’s upper arm as he got close, pulling him along that little bit faster.

Then, the collapse.

Behind them, luckily. They could feel the rock fall behind them—the muffled slam of it against the cavern floor, the force of it sent ripples through the water, propelling them forward a bit. The real danger was a chain reaction.

Mika made a frightened noise as a shard of rock fell strangely close, but kept up well enough.

More bits fell. Freminet didn’t dare glance behind them, but the sound was enough to convince him they were big enough to kill. He couldn’t hear his labored breaths, and could only feel his pounding heartbeat over the sounds.

He almost didn’t notice it. The rock slammed into his side. Bluntly, he felt himself shoved, as well as heard a crack.

Mika yelled something, and vaguely he realized the crack was his ribs. Definitely. Huh.

He looked down, helmet making it a bit hard, he wasn’t trapped, but there was red swirling in the water. His blood.

He closed his eyes, only for a second. Opening them, the two of them had moved.

Mika must have been pulling him along, as his arm was over the smaller’s shoulder, and the boy’s hand was wrapped around to cradle his ribs. He also must have been healing him as he swam, as it didn’t hurt.

“Frem—”

“Y-yeah?”

“Oh thank Barbatos.” Mika muttered. Distantly, Freminet was a little surprised to hear the gods name. It made sense though, Mika was a Mondstadter after all. “— earthquake is stopped for now, and we’re close to an air pocket. Should we—“

“Y-yeah, l-let’s…” Freminet said, even though talking strained him. Mika got the idea.

He was strangely calm, as Mika pulled him over his shoulder and dragged him. Sure, they were in immediate danger, but his mind couldn’t help but drift.

Growing geothermal pressure must have been building up for some time. Leading to small tremors in the earth below the region, driving away the fauna. In years past, the institute would monitor these things, but with the—oh, was Mika saying something? Between his helmet and heartbeat thumping in his ears, it was a little difficult to make out the words.

Mika must be worried, Freminet thought distantly. In a pathetic attempt of comfort, Freminet grabbed his arm a bit, squeezing once. I’m still here. Don’t worry.

They must have gotten to the pocket, as suddenly, they broke the surface of the water, and Mika heaved him over his shoulder, dragging him up and laying him down on some rock.

The tremors in the earth had been silent for a bit at this point. How long, Freminet didn’t know. It was a little difficult to process stuff.

Mika tore his helmet off him, tossing it to the side. Freminet kind of wished he didn’t, as sometime during the event, a few tears had slipped down his cheeks.

“Freminet?” Hands on his face. “Freminet? Can you count to five.”

“I-yeah. One, two, three, four, five.” He croaked out.

“Good. And where are you?”

“…underwater. With you.” Probably not enough information. “On a commission.”

Mika let out a shaky breath. “Alright. No concussion probably. I healed you a bit while we were still underwater, but I couldn't do too much. I’m going to continue, alright?”

Freminet nodded, closing his eyes.

A cold mist filled the little air pocket. Freminet peaked one eye open. Mika was holding his notebook again. When the healing flooded his body, cold and numbing against his skin, he nearly cried again. Thank the archons. Thank the Tsaritsa. Thank—

“Thank you.” Freminet’s voice was hoarse, dry, despite the wretched, humid air of the air pocket they surfaced in.

The cool rock beneath him soothed his hot body. Thoughts came easier.

“It’s no issue, really. It’s what I’m trained to do.” Mika sounded relieved, snapping his book shut.

“I’m supposed to be the one keeping us safe. That was my job. I’m sorry I failed.”

“No—really. I’m a healer. I’m supposed to keep people alive. I asked you to be my guide and you did that amazingly.” And then Mika smiled, Freminet could tell. Wanting to see it, Freminet gathered himself and forced his eyes open and looked at the other boy.

“You did well.” He mumbled, glancing away.

“No pain?” Mika scooted closer to him. “Abnormal heart rate? Lingering feelings of cold? Numbness? Do you mind if I check your pulse?”

“I—uhm.”

“O-oh, sorry—procedure. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, but I do need to make sure everything is working order now that you’re lucid.”

“… alright. Can… Can I wear my helmet while you do it?”

Mika looked confused for a second, but nodded. “That’s fine, so long as you can answer my questions.”

Freminet summoned his helmet, reveling in hiding in the silky velvet inside. But, even hidden behind the glass of the porthole, he couldn’t help the way his breath caught as Mika expertly grabbed his wrist.

Two fingers pressed to the vein there—caulloused slightly from wielding a polearm—Mika lips twitched as he silently counted.

“I-It’s a little fast…” Mika said, face twisting into slight concern. “I’m going to have you lay down on your back. Focus on your breathing, it could just be shock, or an issue with the cryo I healed you with.”

Or it was a product of Freminet’s sudden flustered-ness.

Probably that, because when he laid back down, counting his breaths, and caught sight of Mika sitting above him, his breathing stuttered.

Mika heard it immediately, but didn’t connect the dots, eyes immediately snapping to him. “Any pain or strain with exhaling and inhaling?”

“… no.”

Mika nodded. “Alright. Just keep calming down. Cryo healing has a small chance of connecting with the blood in the veins and freezing it. This usually never happens without the wielder realizing—the freeze reaction is very tangible—but being surrounded by water may have made me miss it. With your heartbeat being fast your body may be heating up to try and melt it. I—it’s a bit awkward, but I’m going to have to feel around your limbs. Just your fingers, for arms, and calves—! I’ll be quick, tell me if you feel anything.”

“I… I think I’ll be alright.”

“This is just standard, to ensure your safety. Rushed healing jobs can really hurt people. Especially with the cryo element, and more so underwater.”

And what was Freminet going to do? Tell Mika that he was probably the reason for his high heart rate? Absolutely not.

Deft fingers trailed up down his forearm, pressing lightly into the soft skin.

“—well, It’s a highly valued heating element for its ability to numb and painkill, but blood being a liquid makes it dangerous. D-don’t worry though! I haven't killed anyone with healing! Not yet!”

Freminet barely tuned in, trying to keep his breathing even and calm down so this could <em>stop</em>. He was definitely going to keep his helmet on for a while after this—his face was hot, and no doubt red.

Fingers pressed against the pads of his own, one by one, before moving to the next one. Mika was soft, softer than him, but his hands were calloused from wielding a polearm and being a cartographer.

Freminet closed his eyes when Mika moved to his calves, these were quicker, Mika using his palms to feel down the tendons. He pulled away soon after.

“T-there we go! All good. I didn’t find any blockages or cryo constructs, so you should be all good.”

Freminet opened his eyes, looking at Mika through the protection of his helmet. Mika…

His own face was painted with a blush.

“If you’re all good, we should head up. Healing is great, but you should always get looked at by a doctor. Also, I’m not sure how bad that earthquake was, but if it was heard on the surface then your siblings must be worried.”

“Right.” Ah. His siblings. Freminet was not mentally ready to deal with them. Today was… rough. But his body was fine. Tip top shape actually—he’s pretty sure Mika fixed that crick in his neck he’s had for years.

He took Mika’s hand, letting him help him to his feet.

~

As soon as they were on shore, Mika was herding him towards a doctor, no matter what Freminet said. Which was why he ended up laying on the white sheets of a hospital bed, arm hooked up to the IV bag. It was a little uncomfortable, under his skin, but he dealt. Tearing it out would only make everyone upset. The doctors, Mika, his siblings if they were here. He sighed, laying still as a soldier on the bed.

“A-Alright, tell them what happened, I’ll inform your siblings you’re here. Do you know where they might be?”

“…If practice ended on time, they’ll be at our house. Here—I’ll write down the address.” He forced himself up on shaky arms, only for Mika to protest, softly easing him back down and promising to remember it.

Which was also why both Lyney and Lynette burst through the door nearly ten minutes later—the walk would be twenty, did Mika run to get them? Did they also run to arrive?—immediately at his side over him, Lyney’s voice overlapping with the doctor as question after question after concern was fired off. Honestly, it was too much for Freminet, who wished he had his helmet.

“You’re alright—right?” Lynette said through the chaos, the only person who’s voice made sense. Thank god. His savior.

He turned his head, grabbing her hand and squeezing once before nodding. She nodded once in response.

“I figured. Ignore Lyney’s loudness, he’s just concerned.”

“Concerned?” Lyney whipped around from where he was facing the doctor, a look of indignation on his face. “Of course I am! An earthquake with my little brother trapped underground—it’s a miracle he’s even—”

“Indeed. He’s quite lucky he was swimming with a healer when the incident occurred. Any prolonged injury would have made it especially easy for him to become disoriented and trapped underwater.” The doctor agreed. “With the healing—which was quite potent—your brother should be discharged in just a few hours.”

“Oh… right.” Freminet said distantly. Mika. Where’d he go? He glanced around, hoping to find him in the room, except for the fact it was void of the other boy. “Mika… where’d he go? I need to thank him.”

“Mika stepped out after he brought us here, I believe.” Lynette said, looking to Lyney who nodded in agreement.

“He did seem to slip away—oh right! We also need to thank him for taking care of our brother, Lynette!” Lyney hopped up, spinning around and heading for the door, sticking his head out. Only, a moment later, he stuck it back in the room, turning to the rest of them. “Huh. He’s not in the waiting chairs outside. It seems he left.”

“Oh.” Freminet said, masking his disappointment. Alas, nothing could be kept away from his siblings cat-sharp eyes and ears.

“You really did make a new friend, huh?” Lyney smiled.

Lynette shot him a glare. “Knock it off.”

He huffed. “Whatever. I’ll talk to the doctors, see if we can’t get you discharged sooner rather than later.”

They needed to tell Father, of course. And they’d probably tell Father about Mika. Depending on how they think Father will react, they may even tell her about his dumb stupid dumb crush.

Freminet sighed, laying his head back against the scratchy hospital pillow.

He closed his eyes, listening to the ambient noises of the hospital. The chatter of Lyney speaking to the doctors on the other side of the hospital room. The muffled beeps of pagers. The rhythm of a heart monitor. He sighed, body abnormally heavy.

“I’m sorry.” Lynette said. The unprompted apology made Freminet open his eyes again, looking at her questioningly.

“…for what?”

“Your day with Mika is ruined. You seemed to like him a great deal. And you’re injured, so you will have to refrain from diving for a time. Which you enjoy.. I'm sorry about that.”

“Not badly. And… yeah. I think I liked him.” Freminet looked to the ceiling, blankly. “He was… nice.”

“It’s alright, Freminet. I’ll make this all better.”

Once again, Freminet opened his eyes, turning to his sister, and… oh no.

Sometimes, it is hard to remember that Lynette and Lyney are, in fact, twins. Near identical in many ways. Many of their physical features are close, but there were other things they shared.

Lynette met his eyes, and Freminet’s heart stopped when he saw a small smile and a spark of mischief in her eyes.

“Whatever you’re planning, please don’t.” Freminet quietly begged.

“Big sister will take care of it.” She stood slowly, walking to join their brother by the doctors.

~

A couple days later, after Freminet had gone home, and resolved himself to never seeing Mika again, there was a knock on the door.

Lyney answered, aware of the other sibling’s general hatred for small talk, and Freminet hadn’t paid it any mind, continuing to tinker with Pers at the dining room table. That was, until he heard Lyney’s frankly too loud voice.

“Oh, Mika! How nice to see you, yes, Freminet is home—”

Freminet was up from the table in seconds, darting over to the door. He ignored Lynette’s snort, coming up right behind his brother to greet Mika. “Hi.”

“H-hi! I—well, I didn’t get to pay you for the commission, and I’m about to head back to Mondstadt. I—well, sorry for showing up at your house unannounced.”

“It’s fine.” Freminet said quickly, before catching his wording. “I—it’s good. It’s nice to see you again.”

“It’s nice to see you too! I’m happy you’re alright!” Mika chirped, taking a small step forward. At some point Lyney had slipped back into the house, leaving them alone, face to face at the door.

They were quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. At least, Freminet didn’t find it so. They just kinda… stood, looking at each other.

“Oh!” Mika broke the silence first, turning to ruffle through his satchel. “Right, payment!”

Payment? Oh—“…you don’t have to.” Freminet did fail after all. Both of them almost got hurt.

“No no, I got much deeper than I ever thought I would with your help, plus you risked your life for me. I-It’s only fair.” Mika pulled out a pouch, heavy with mora. “H-here.”

Freminet opened his palms, letting Mika drop the pouch into them. “…thanks…”

Mika just smiled, nodding once before waving, and turning tail to run off, probably to catch the aquabus.

Alone now, Freminet stood in the doorway, mora heavy in his hands, and Mika was gone.

He took a deep breath. It was at least nice to see him one last time. He’d shake off his dumb crush soon enough, forgetting about their fairly short time together. A few days at most. They hardly knew each other.

He sighed, turning into his house and shutting the door behind him.

Lynette and Lyney sat at the dining room table, Lyney with a smug grin, and Lynette with a cup of tea.

“I like him.” Lyney commented as Freminet tossed the mora on the counter.

“I like him as well.” Lynette agreed. “Everything turned up well about him.”

Freminet sighed. Of course, leave it to his siblings to find out anything they could—probably everything—about his dumb crash. Quietly, he responded, voice flat. “Doesn’t matter. He’s going home.”

“Oh? Really? How tragic!—my own dearest brother, his first dalliance into love, left heartbroken as the subject of his affections must return home—” Lyney’s concern was exaggerated. Faked. He had something up his magician’s sleeve. Freminet narrowed his eyes.

“Just say it Lyney.” Lynnette scolded.

“We’ve put a request in to travel to Mondstadt and perform there—with the intention of bolstering international camaraderie… and doing some intelligence gathering, of course! If The Knave agrees we’ll be going next month.”

“N-next month?” So soon? What the hell, Lyney!” He turned to his brother, shellshocked.

He was going to see Mika again. In a month. Lyney said something else, but Freminet didn’t register it. He would get to see Mika again.

[pillbug-armor]

Professor x Student slow burn

8k words

summary: When Professor Jonathan Holbrook meets his new TA, Emma Morgan, he is struck by her magnetic, charming personality. Before long, he finds himself drawn to her in ways that violate every rule of professionalism in the book. When they find themselves alone in his office after a long semester together, Jonathan finds that his resolve is not as unbreakable as he would hope...

cw: age difference (legal), prof-student relationship, protected seggsual activity, p in v, unequal power dynamics

original characters,  any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

this is a pretty slow burn, with full consent from both characters bc i think it's important also find it really hot. Also has a bit of a softer feel, the characters like each other a lot/have a relationship outside of the seggs. hope you like it, bc i had a great time writing it! also if you are a compsci nerd this one goes out ya'll bc holbrook is a data science professor haha

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first day of a semester was always simmering with energy. Professor Jonathan Holbrook was still getting used to the fact that it was his job to capture and direct the attention of an entire lecture hall full of early twenty-somethings. 

He looked at the clock on his computer screen: 9:26 AM. In four minutes, he wouldn’t be Jonathan, the newly 30 year old man who had struggled to drag himself out of bed two hours earlier with a sore neck. He would be Professor Holbrook, sharp, alert, assertive, ready to share his passion for data science with approximately 250 people who may or may not feel the same. 

Absent-mindedly, he tipped his chair back and forth, bracing one foot against the podium from which he’d soon be delivering an icebreaking personal introduction. 

“Professor Holbrook?”

With a slight jerk, he righted his chair. A student was standing in front of him. 

Shaking her hand, he replied, “Yes, that’s me.”

Her grip was as firm and assured as her voice. She smiled and said, “Hi, I’m Emma. Emma Morgan. I’m your TA for this semester.” 

“Emma! It’s great to finally put a face to your name. Would you want to sit up here? Or would you rather sit with the students?” He noticed that she had curly brown hair and freckles, neither of which had been apparent in her tiny email profile photo. 

She turned to look out at the lecture hall. “I think I’d like to sit with the students. I mean, I feel more like a student than anything else.” The corner of her mouth quirked up, and she walked over to a seat in the front row and set her backpack down.

Jonathan nodded, then glanced at his laptop again. 9:29 AM. He turned back towards Emma, who was looking at him with a slight furrow in her brow. 

“You ready for the semester, Emma?”

Her face relaxed, and her brown eyes met his. “Ready as I can be, I guess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, Professor Holbrook”. 

Jonathan looked up from the email he had been typing. “Hi Emma. You don’t have to call me Professor Holbrook, by the way. You can just call me Jonathan.”

Shrugging her backpack off her shoulders, she replied, “If you say so. Where do you want me to sit?” In the current emptiness of his office, her purple and blue striped shirt was the only pop of color. 

Hastily, he reached out and pulled a chair up next to his own. “Here’s fine. And would you mind closing the door before you sit down?”

She shut the door gently, sat down, and turned to face him, legs crossed at the ankle. He pushed up his sleeves and turned to grab his planner. As he was about to ask Emma how her morning was going, he noticed her gaze had settled on his forearm. 

Almost as quickly as he’d noticed, she flicked her eyes back up at him. Her mouth opened slightly, soundlessly, before she said, “Sorry. Uh, I like your tattoos. Is that a parakeet?”

“Yeah, it’s a blue winged parakeet. I had one as a kid and it was my favorite pet of all time.”

She smiled, crossed her arms, then uncrossed them and set them in her lap. She ran a hand through her hair, then said, “That’s cool. Birds are my favorite animals.” For a second longer, she held his gaze, then she looked down, waiting for him to continue. 

Her nervousness was making him slightly nervous as well. He laughed politely, then said, “So anyways. Let me give you the rundown of how recitation is going to work. Then, we can discuss when you’d like to have your office hours, and anything else you have questions about.”

This first weekly meeting went by smoothly. Jonathan found that he did most of the talking; Emma rarely interrupted him to ask questions. She took notes in a somewhat battered, plain notebook, writing unhurriedly. Her hands were delicate, nails perfectly painted a light shade of pink.

As their meeting came to a close, Jonathan said, “Do you have any questions for me?”

“No, I don’t think so.” She paused, then said, “Do you have any for me?”

He thought for a brief moment. “How has your first week back on campus been, Emma?”

She blinked at him, then said “Good. I mean senior year is going to be super busy, but I’m really glad that I get to see all my friends all the time.”

He replied, “Well, that’s good. I’m thankful to have you as a TA. You seem very organized and on top of it.”

At this, she laughed. “Don’t be fooled by the notebook, Jonathan.” He found himself smiling as she said, “I actually have no idea what’s on most of these pages”. 

She pulled her phone out of her pocket, checked the time, then said, “I have to go to my next class. I’ll see you in lecture tomorrow?” 

“See you tomorrow.”

She stood, threw her backpack over one shoulder, then turned and walked into the hallway. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Aaaaand voila. Ok, if you’ve been following along, you’ll see that the output of this function should match the correlation coefficient given in the answer key.”

By now, a month into the semester, Jonathan had eased back into the swing of lecturing. He felt he’d established a good rapport with his students; a decent number of them even showed up to office hours. 

He hit the Enter key to run the code cell he’d just written, only to be shown a red “error” message. A murmur broke out through the lecture hall. 

He sighed, then said, “Don’t panic guys, this is only the 8th time this has happened this week.” He scrolled to the top of the cell, combing through the lines to find his mistake.

“Jonathan.”

He looked up, and saw that Emma had raised her hand. “What’s up?”

She grinned mischievously, then said, “You spelled “scipy” wrong at the top. Like where you include the libraries.”

He made a show of scrolling very slowly back to the top of the cell, and saw that she was correct. 

The students laughed, and he laughed with them. He raised his hands in defeat and said, “I’m a computer guy, not an English major.” 

As the noise died down, Emma said, “You do know that “python” starts with “p-y” right? Not “p-i.”

He shot back, “Emma. You double indented like 7 lines in a for loop last week and you couldn’t figure out what was wrong with your code.” As he spoke, he moved to the front of the podium so he was standing in front of her. 

In mock outrage, she put a hand on her chest. “That’s because I was using your stupid new IDE that runs on GitHub Copilot”. 

As he stepped closer to her chair, she bent her neck to look up at him. He looked directly into her eyes and said, “Let us know when you’re ready to leave the stone age and join us in 2023.”

He was acutely aware that everyone in the classroom was looking at them, as their banter had become a regular occurrence in every lecture.

She raised a hand to the side of her neck and took a breath in. He saw the rise and fall of her chest, the way her hand brushed the smooth, soft, skin of her jaw. 

After a beat, she extended her hand towards him. He stepped even closer to her, and grasped her hand in his. He swore he could feel her pulse in her fingers. 

She shook his hand, then said, “I’ll send a smoke signal to your iPhone.”

He grinned as the class laughed, and stepped back behind the podium. As he continued on with his lecture, his gaze kept falling on Emma, and the soft smile that never left her face. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

8:30 AM was too early to be on campus by any metric. Yawning unabashedly, Jonathan walked towards the undergraduate lounge, the only room with an espresso machine in the engineering building. He couldn’t wait for a shot of raw caffeine to jolt him awake. 

When he pulled open the door, he was surprised to see Emma there, sitting on the sofa, laptop perched on one thigh. 

She looked up at him briefly. “Hey.”

He blinked. “What are you doing here so early?”

Her fingers brushed the touchpad of her machine as she said, “I have interview grading downstairs in like 20 minutes, and I figured I’d get here a bit early to add some final comments to my code.”

Jonathan leaned one hand against the table, then said, “What’s the project?”

She grimaced, then replied, “It’s an optimization lab.”

“Hmm.” He thought for a second. “Want me to take a look at it?”

“Sure,” Emma said. 

At the same time that he moved to sit on the couch, she stood to place her laptop on the table. Jonathan froze. Emma was still, both hands clutching her laptop, eyes shifting to the side. After a beat, he said, “Let’s just sit on the couch, you were already there anyways.”

Nodding, she sat back down. He took a seat next to her. 

Without looking at him, she went back to scrolling. She brushed a few curls away from her face as she explained her code to him.

As Jonathan gave his feedback, he noticed, for the first time, the light brown, almost shimmery hair on her forearms, and that she had a thin gold chain around her neck, the small pendant resting against the junction of her collarbone and her throat. Her white sneakers were scuffed, and she had purple ankle socks on. Suddenly, he was very aware that his thighs were only a few inches away from hers, and that he could see the outline, the shape of her crossed legs through her blue jeans. 

He folded his hands in his lap, looked over at Emma, and asked her why she had written a particular line of code with recursion instead of a loop. 

She smiled and nodded, pointing at the line of code he’d referred to. She had a perfect cupid’s bow, and her teeth were rounded and had slight gaps in between them. 

Jonathan’s mouth felt dry. He cleared his throat and said, “I think you’ll be fine. There are a couple places where a little restructuring could make the code run even faster, but honestly at that point it’s diminishing returns, you know?”

Emma’s gaze met his, and he was momentarily struck by the warmth in her brown eyes, despite the tired, purplish shadow that lay beneath each one. She yawned, and Jonathan almost looked away, but he didn’t, instead noticing the way her head tipped back, exposing the skin under her jaw, the way her tongue rested against her bottom teeth. 

She closed her laptop and slid it into her backpack. Jonathan blinked, feeling like some charge in the air had just vanished. 

“Thanks for the feedback, Jonathan. I appreciate you taking the time to help me out.”

He nodded, and said, “Anytime. You can always Slack me if you have questions about this kind of thing.”

She got up, and moved so she was standing directly in front of him. His knees were directly across from hers. she said, “I’ll let you know how interview grading goes. See you later, in lecture.”

“Sounds good,” He replied. She left the room, and for a few seconds, Jonathan stayed on the couch, not moving. 

He couldn’t believe that he’d thought to himself that, if he’d just reached out, he could have slid his hands under her t-shirt and onto the soft curves of her waist, and pulled her down until she was sitting on his lap.

Uneasily, he looked around. Nobody was there. He took a deep breath. It wasn’t as if people could see his thoughts anyways. 

It was going to be fine. It was just a fleeting thought, and, of course, Emma was beautiful. Anyone could see that. He was sure his mind wouldn’t betray him like that again. 

He got up, made his espresso, and went back to his office. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the next few weeks went by, Jonathan was starting to think that maybe he should request a different TA for the next semester. Emma was extremely helpful to him, always attentive to student’s questions in lecture, always completing tasks he asked of her on time. She was never late to a weekly meeting, and she was smart and funny to boot. 

But. Ever since running into her that early morning in the undergraduate lounge, his thoughts had become more and more intrusive. Rationally, he knew that the more he tried not to think them, the more they would take over his mind, but he couldn’t help it. Some kind of floodgate had opened, and he was powerless to stop the contents of his imagination from bursting through. 

During lecture, they bantered and conversed as usual in front of the class, and he was starting to feel like the student’s eyes were too much. Surely, every time he spoke to Emma, every time he walked out from behind the podium to stand in front of her seat, they could see that he was drawn to her like a magnet. Surely they could see that his eyes flickered to her lips, her hands, the delicate lines of her chest visible through her clothes. Surely they had noticed that he smiled every time she smiled, that he was inventing excuses to tease her and get her attention as he spoke. 

Emma was a student, a good student. It was completely unfair to her that his wayward thoughts threatened the professionalism of their interactions. 

But he couldn’t help it. When they had their weekly meetings, where it was just the two of them in his office behind a closed door for 30 whole minutes, he was overtaken by thoughts of what they could be doing instead of discussing curricular materials. He felt like he was gripping onto a mask of normalcy, struggling not to let even a hint of these imaginings show on his face when she was there. 

But when she left, and the door to his office closed, he would lean back in his chair, and his mind’s eye would open, hungry for something he could never see. He had given up trying to restrain it. 

He could see himself asking her how she was doing, how she was really doing. She would sigh and tell him that senior year was stressful, that she was struggling to figure out her next steps post undergrad. He would place his hands on hers, tell her that she had nothing to worry about, that she was so smart and capable that he was sure she would find her way. She would look into his eyes, the warm, melty brown color blooming in his vision, and she would incline her head towards his. He would lean in, breathe in the clean scent of her skin, brush his lips against her jaw, her neck, lace his fingers through the soft curls of her hair. He could see her breath quickening, her eyes closing, her fingers tightening their grip on his. He could hear the way she would try not to make a sound.

He could make her feel so good, he knew he could. He knew his hands could wrap around her waist, support the weight of her body if he held her close. He wondered what she had experienced in the past, if anyone else had touched and caressed and kissed and tasted her in the ways that he couldn’t stop imagining. 

He also knew that none of this could or would happen. It was probably in their best interest that he found a new TA for the next semester. He dreaded having to tell Emma this, knowing that she couldn’t know the true reason for his request. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he knew it was the right thing to do. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The last day of the semester before winter break had arrived. All day, Jonathan had been helping to run the fall undergraduate showcase, where top students from various engineering disciplines displayed projects that they had worked on this year in class. Some highlights had been a web app that summarized terms and conditions, a working smartwatch prototype meant to help remind people to take medications, and a 3d printed fully articulating human hand with working motors that could theoretically be modified into a prosthetic limb. 

He checked his phone. 9:00pm. All that was left to do was fold up the last few tables and chairs, put them to the side of the engineering lobby for the cleaning crew to put into storage, and then finally, he could go home for the night. 

“Hey, is there anything else you need help with?” Emma’s voice brought his attention back to the tasks at hand. 

“If you just wanna fold up those chairs over there and put them on that rack over there, that would be great.”

He watched her walk away. For a second, he braced his forehead with his fingertips, and suppressed a sigh. 

He still hadn’t told Emma that he was going to be requesting a new TA for the upcoming semester. At this point, he was going to have to send her an email over break. Maybe it was better that way. Simple and quick. Impersonal. Professional. 

Even now, he had to measure his actions around her. It was starting to become unbearable, being near her and being unable to give substance to the thoughts that had been plaguing him. 

Another faculty member caught his eye and waved. “I’m gonna head out. Have a good break!”

He smiled tersely and waved back. His eyes surveyed the lobby, and he found that it had been tidied up satisfactorily. 

“Emma.” He called her name. She turned to look at him. “I think we’re good on cleanup. You wanna come up to my office with me to grab your stuff?”

She nodded. “Sure. It’s getting late.”

Side by side, they walked down a long hallway, footsteps echoing in the emptiness. After climbing a stairwell and turning a corner, Jonathan rummaged in his pocket for a key, unlocked the door to his office, and flicked on a light switch. 

He grabbed a couple notebooks off his desk and put them on a shelf, then looked over at Emma, who was blinking at the sudden onslaught of bright light. She pulled a jacket out of her bag and started putting it on. 

“Do you have a way of getting home? It’s getting cold out there.” 

Emma responded, “Yeah, the bus runs for another hour, so I should be good. Thanks for asking.”

He nodded, surveying his office for any other things that might need to be stored away during break. 

“Jonathan?” 

He paused. Emma stood, leaning on his desk, arms crossed. Her curly hair fell loose around her shoulders, slightly frizzy from rubbing against her jacket. 

“Yes?”

Emma moistened her lips with her tongue, then swallowed. Jonathan tried not to look at the way her throat bobbed up and down. 

“Thanks for having me as a TA. I had a lot of fun working with you this semester.”

She was staring into his eyes. She smiled at him, and he felt like he was going to lose his mind. Continuing on, she said, “Also, I appreciate you helping me out with looking for internships and stuff like that. And for giving me advice on projects. Seriously, you didn’t have to take the time to do all that. I really…I really felt like you were looking out for me.”

Against his will, Jonathan took a step forward, closing a good portion of the distance between them. She was now standing between him and the desk, neck craned slightly up to meet his gaze. 

He chose his next words carefully. “You’re a good…person, Emma. You really helped me out a lot this semester. I’m thankful to have had you as my TA.”

Emma swallowed again. Her eyes hadn’t left his, not even for a second. She uncrossed her arms, and gripped the edge of the desk with her hands. 

He added, “If you ever need help with anything else, Emma, you can always email me. Or Slack me. I’ll be here.”

She blinked up at him, and nodded her head. “I appreciate that, Jonathan. You’ve helped me out a lot too.” He saw that her knuckles had tightened on the desk. 

His heart dropped. Oh no. He’d failed. Somehow she knew all the wildly inappropriate thoughts that had passed through his brain for the better part of the semester. He was finished. 

But then, he saw something else. A pink flush had begun to creep up her neck. For a beat, he didn’t say anything. He felt like if he looked at her any longer he was going to go blind. 

After a moment, he said, “Emma. Are you ok?”

She let go of the desk with one hand, and pressed it against her neck, trying and failing to cover up the redness that was now flushing into her cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry. Yeah I’m fine. I’m just…I’m just tired.”

“You should probably go home, Emma. Get some rest. It’s been a long semester and a long day.” He couldn’t believe that he was taking a step closer to her, even as he said this. He didn’t know if he’d ever stood this close to her. He didn’t know what in the world was possessing him to act like this. Every rational fiber of his being was screaming at him to step away from her, to let her go. 

Emma looked down at her shoes, then crossed one leg over the other, one hip jutting out as she shifted her weight. For an agonizing second, she didn’t say anything. 

Jonathan’s heart was starting to race. She was going to report him. She was going to tell someone that he shouldn’t be a professor at this school any more. 

Without looking at him, she mumbled. “The bus doesn’t get here for another 20 minutes. Maybe I could wait in here?”

No. She couldn’t wait in here. If she stayed in here, in his office, in this empty building where everyone else had gone home for break, his final thread of rationality and self control was going to snap.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. I mean, you can also probably just wait in the lobby. I mean, not that I need you to leave. Like I can wait with you. If you want. In the lobby. Or here. Whatever makes you more comfortable.” Christ, this was bad. He sounded nothing like the grown, adult professor that he had to be while he was on this campus. 

She leveled his gaze with her gorgeous, endlessly alluring brown eyes. “I’ll just wait here.”

He stared at her. Her cheeks were fully flushed pink now, and he suddenly noticed that her breathing had become measured, as if she was struggling to exert control over it. 

This wasn’t happening. This was definitely happening. This couldn’t be happening. 

Slowly, slowly, he leaned towards her. He was easily almost a foot taller than she was, so he had to bend down quite a bit. He put his hands on the desk, one on each side of her. Without touching her at all, he moved his head until his mouth was a breath away from her jawbone. 

Her eyes closed, and her head tilted back. She inhaled, and he swore he could see her pulse jumping in her neck. 

Into her ear, he said. “Emma.”

At the sound of his voice, she exhaled deeply. She said, in a voice lower than he’d ever heard her use. “Professor Holbrook.”

He hovered there, still holding himself back from fully closing the space between them. For a second, there was no sound in his office but their breathing.

Jonathan knew at that moment that it was over. He was absolutely powerless to stop whatever happened next. He’d spent months resisting, fighting himself off, just for it all to end like this. 

Softly, he pressed his lips to Emma’s ear. She shivered, but made no motion to move away from him. Into the warmth of her skin he said slowly, “You should just call me Jonathan.”

She let go of the desk and placed her hand on his exposed forearm, onto the tattoo of a parakeet that she’d commented on all those months ago. He felt her fingers land on his skin with every single nerve that he had. After a moment’s hesitation, he said, “Emma. Are you alright?”

She turned to look at him, their noses inches apart. She nodded, fingers stroking over his arm softly, eyes searching his face. 

“Good” He rasped. He lifted a hand and cupped the side of her face, bending her head slightly away from him to expose the flushed skin of her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed once more, and she sighed softly. She placed her hand on top of his, lightly encouraging him to hold her. He bent his head down and kissed her right beneath the ear, firmly and slowly, savoring the way her breathing had become ragged and uncontrolled. As he pressed into her slightly with his tongue, fingers nestled in her curly hair, she softened, leaning into his touch fluidly. Jonathan’s mind had completely fogged over, and he was aware of nothing but the feeling of her skin, the heat now radiating off of her. 

She moved to unzip her jacket, and he helped her shrug it off her shoulders, letting it land unceremoniously on the floor. She jumped up so she was sitting on the desk, and he knelt carefully in front of her. Her hands were resting on her thighs; he grabbed them and placed them onto his shoulders. They felt warm even through his shirt, and Jonathan was remembering the sheer number of times he’d imagined her perfectly painted nails dragging against his skin. The upper part of her chest was exposed by her sweater, and he leaned in and kissed his way down her sternum, breathing in the vibrations in her chest as she gasped. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, and he had to stifle a groan. He nudged her knees apart with one elbow, and moved forward so she was bracing her inner thighs on either side of his torso. Placing a hand on each of her hips, right where her jeans met the curve of her narrow waist, Jonathan reverently pulled her body closer to his, relishing the feeling of her hips pressing up against him. 

As he moved his mouth lower down her chest, she squeezed her legs tighter around him. Her breathing deepened, he could see the haphazard rise and fall of her shoulders. He wanted to feel more of her skin, more of her warmth. He slid his hands up under her sweater, fingers splaying against the smooth muscles of her back. 

Emma moaned softly, and Jonathan stopped, resting the side of his face against her stomach. 

“Jonathan.” He looked up at her face, and saw that her mouth was slightly open, her skin starting to dampen slightly with a light sheen of sweat.

“Yes, Emma?”

She started to say something, but then slowly moved her hands onto his forearms instead. Without breaking eye contact, she pulled his hands up higher, so that her sweater slid up against her body, exposing her navel and the lower part of her ribcage. Her skin was beautiful, rosy and smooth and soft to the touch.

Jonathan couldn’t hold back. He stood, gently pressing on her with his hands so she reclined onto his desk. She looked into his eyes as she laid back, searching his face. Her legs were still on either side of him as he bent over her, pressing slow, methodical kisses onto her stomach, her ribcage, where her bra concealed the lower curve of her small breasts. 

Her hips lifted against his thighs, and tension pooled in his lower stomach. He felt himself hardening against the fabric of his pants. He couldn’t remember the last time that he’d felt like this, so single mindedly focused on the task at hand. 

He pulled her sweater up, over her head, and off her body. She was perfect, every bit as perfect as he’d imagined her to be. Her jeans hung loosely off her hips, her shoulders were sloped and elegant and curved perfectly into her neck, and he could see the peaks of small nipples nudging at the gray cotton fabric of her bra. One of them was intersected by a horizontal barbell. Jonathan felt a surge of heat course through him, upon finding out that his TA had had someone run a needle and metal jewelry through such a sensitive and hidden part of her body. 

He grabbed her by the waist and moved her farther up onto the table. He brushed the sides of her ribcage with his thumbs, and he pressed his mouth to the upper curve of her breast. A small sound escaped her throat. 

“Is this okay, Emma?”

She nodded soundlessly. He knew it was in fact not okay, that he was breaking every single rule about student-faculty relations he could think of.  But he didn’t care, he couldn’t care. Deftly, he pressed his tongue onto her nipple, wetting the thin fabric covering it. She jerked against him, and a moan left her lips. She traced her hands up to his head from his shoulders, fingers pulling slightly at his hair. The sensation shot through him and settled low into his hips, and he sucked in a breath. Without thinking, he surged forwards, pressing himself into her, and she responded by arching her back up off the desk. The thought that she could feel his length, that his stiffness felt as good to her as her softness did to him, made his pulse race. 

Jonathan reached up to cup her small breast; it rested perfectly in his hand. He used the pad of his thumb to brush lightly over her nipple, and he felt it harden at his touch. The color was high in her cheeks now, and her face had an expression that he’d only ever seen deep in the recesses of his mind. He hooked his thumb under the elastic band of her bra and pulled it up, fingers pressing soft dents into her skin. She was beautiful, her nipples perfectly round and a warm shade of light pink, accented by the gold barbell she had chosen. Even here, she had a light dusting of freckles on her skin. 

She tightened her grip on him, knees pressing into his sides urgently. He looked up at her, locking onto her brown eyes. Her lashes fluttered gently, and her eyes fell closed. Carefully, gently, he took her nipple into his mouth, softly licking the tip of it with the flat of his tongue. The hard metal jewelry clicked against his teeth, and he tugged at it ever so slightly.

Emma moaned, loudly, breath quickening. Encouraged by the sound, his hand softly stroked the bare skin of her other breast. Jonathan was coming undone, and he needed to feel more of her. His own desire was a white hot flash burning through him, filling him with need. He pulled her bra up over her head, and the sight of her naked torso spread all across his desk gave him pause. She really was perfect, and he couldn’t believe he was touching her like this, making her feel things she maybe hadn’t had the chance to feel before. 

He continued for a few minutes, sucking gently on her nipple at first, then gradually harder. He relished the textural contrast between her velvety skin and the smooth, hard jewelry. He slid his hands under her back, tracing them up and down, feeling every contour and curve. At this point, she was no longer silent. Every sound that escaped her went straight through him, eating away at whatever shred of his restraint might have remained.

When her hips started to jerk up, pressing into him involuntarily, he moved his hands down to the waistband of her jeans. He asked, “Emma. Do you want me to take these off?”

She sat up, and his hands stilled. Gently, he grasped her shoulders, bending down so he matched her eye level. 

He tried to slow his breathing as he waited for her to respond. After a beat she said, “I don’t know if we should.”

Immediately, he pulled back. “Of course, you’re right. Here, let me-”

She cut him off. “But also, it’s my senior year.”

Slightly dumbfounded, Jonathan just looked at her. A small, earnest smile was creeping its way onto her face. 

Her gaze darted down to the zipper area of his pants, then back up to meet his eyes. Jonathan found himself feeling a bit exposed, which did nothing to remedy the situation that had caught her eye. 

Emma spoke again. “I feel like…I’ve had a lot of fun getting to know you this semester, Jonathan. I think you’re a cool person. You’re really good at your job, you’re smart, you’ve been looking out for me. I guess, you know, whatever happens next, I still just want to keep having fun getting to know you.”

She was complimenting him. Genuinely complimenting him while she was sitting on his desk with no top on. His brain felt like it was going to explode. 

After a pause, she took a breath and continued. “I don’t want you to get in trouble or anything. Like for real, nobody is going to find out about this. If you’d rather stop that’s ok too but to be honest, I’m having fun.” She let out a laugh. “Jonathan, you have to know, you’re the hot professor. I feel kinda dumb saying this, but everyone says it. You - you’re gorgeous. During our first meeting in this office I felt like I couldn’t even look at you because you’re so…you know. And now I’m back here again and-” She laughed again, and he found himself smiling too. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Jonathan was at a loss for words. Finally, he gathered his thoughts enough to say, “Thank you. For the compliments, I mean. I really appreciate everything you said. And Emma, you have to know too, you’re beautiful. Everything about you-” He stopped and leaned forwards, placing his hands on her waist. She looked up at him, head tilted to the side. 

“Do you remember that morning when I helped you with your optimization lab?” Her eyes widened, and she nodded. He continued, “After you left the room, I thought to myself-” He hesitated. Was it a good idea to tell her?

Her brown eyes were so lucid, and he decided he didn’t care if it was a good idea or not. He wanted her to know how much she turned him on. 

Her inner thighs were pressing against him. He cupped a hand around the back of her head, lacing his fingers into her hair. Her breathing hitched. He said, “I thought to myself that I should have put my hands up your shirt and pulled you down onto my lap.”

While tugging slightly on her hair, he traced his other hand up until his it brushed over her pierced nipple. A small sound escaped her throat, and she shuddered. Back and forth, he delicately smoothed his thumb over the tight bud until a pink flush was blooming across her chest and neck. After pressing a kiss to her jaw, he said, “I’ve been thinking about you ever since. Every time we had lecture, every time we had a meeting, I was picturing you like this.” He took in the sight of her, brown hair cascading over her shoulders, the perfect line of her spine, the slight protruding curve of her exposed lower belly, and he felt his heartbeat pick up again. 

She reached out a hand and grasped the front of his shirt. All she said was, “Take this off.”

And at that, the next several minutes were lost to a haze of flurried movement and agonizing sensation. His shirt disappeared, flung to some random spot on the floor. Her hands haphazardly explored his skin, and he was hyperaware of the way her nails dragged lightly against him. Her breasts pressed into him as he drew her close, and the warmth between her legs surrounded him deliciously. His pants were starting to feel like a lid screwed too tightly onto a jar. 

He moved his hands to the top button of her jeans, and paused to look into her eyes. She nodded at him, chest rising and falling in a rapid rhythm. 

He unbuttoned and unzipped, then hooked his fingers into the waistband and tugged them down. She rocked her hips so he could get them off, and then Emma was sitting on his desk in nothing but a pair of blue cotton panties. 

She started to lie back on the desk, but he braced a hand against her back to stop her. “Sit. I want to see your face when I put my fingers inside of you.”

Her mouth dropped open slightly, and a blush rose into her cheeks. Jonathan couldn’t believe how turned on he was. He wanted to wind Emma up until she was tight like a coiled spring. 

He pressed the palm of his hand between her legs, closing his eyes as he felt the damp heat through the thin fabric. 

For a second, he rested there, before saying, “Emma, if you want me to stop, tell me now.”

Immediately she shook her head. 

“You want me to keep going?”

She nodded. 

“Say yes.”

In a slightly choked voice, she said, “Yes.”

He pushed the fabric of her underwear to the side with his fingers. Her smooth folds were slick already. Slowly, deliberately, he pressed a finger into her warm depths. 

She moaned, and clutched at his arm. Encouraged, he slid his finger out almost all the way, then pressed it back in, repeating the motion methodically. As he did so, He watched Emma's eyebrows furrowing, her lips parting and wrapping around broken, uncontrolled sounds, her hips rocking forward to meet his thrusts. 

When he felt her relax around him, he pressed another finger inside her. He lightly drew his thumb across her clit, and her muscles clenched. 

“Ah! Jonathan-”

He bent forward to press kisses into her neck. “Yes?”

Her breathing was ragged. “Jonathan, you-you feel-”

He pressed the flat of his tongue onto her nipple, dragging wetness across her skin. He sucked on it before pulling away to say, “What? What do I feel like?”

Her hips rocked forwards, as if of their own accord. He flexed his fingers inside her, reaching for the spot in her lower belly that he knew would drive her crazy. 

She gasped, and he felt her tighten around him, drawing him in. “Oh my god, Jonathan. What-? how did you-? nngh-”

He flexed his fingers again, marveling at how sensitive she was, how she responded so willingly to his touch. “Tell me how you feel, ” he said hoarsely.

“Your hand. I can’t-I feel like-ah!” Her sentence was cut short as he started drawing gentle, tight circles around her clit with his thumb. With a little more force than before, he thrust his fingers into her again. 

“Emma? I didn’t quite catch that.” She opened her eyes to look at him, and he saw a glow in her dark eyes that would be seared into his brain for quite some time. 

“You’re- you’re teasing me. You feel like-” She breathed in sharply as he sank his fingers into her once more.

He grinned, and said, “Well, if you won’t tell me what I feel like, I’ll tell you what you feel like.” He was in a rhythm now, steadily moving in and out of her, relishing the friction between the pads of his fingers against her walls. “You’re so, so warm. And wet, and I can feel how tight you are.” The only response he got was her breathing, the sound of her starting to lose control. 

With his arm, he pulled her closer to the edge of the desk so he could sink his fingers into her even deeper. 

“Agh! Ah, nngh-” Her voice was strained beyond the formation of clear words.

Gently, he pressed his thumb to her swollen clit. He felt her clench inside of him, and he knew she was close to coming undone.

Suddenly, Emma reached down and grabbed his wrist, stopping the motion of his hand. After taking a moment to steady her breathing, she said, “Wait a second. Wait- I don’t-I don’t want to come yet.”

Jonathan, with his fingers still inside her, pressed a kiss directly onto her pierced nipple. “No?”

“Oh-Jonathan, hang on. Do you have condoms in your office?”

He looked at her. Matter of factly, he said, “Yeah, I do. In my bag.”

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, urgently. Her curls were starting to frizz up, and her skin shone under the fluorescent lights. She squeezed his wrist, and said, “Do you think-do you think we could use one?”

It was all Jonathan could do not to moan out loud as a wave of lust crashed into him. As if aware of the possibility of release, his dick became almost unbearably hard against the stiff zipper of his pants. 

Gently, he withdrew his fingers from inside Emma’s body, watching as her eyelids fluttered closed and her lips parted at the sensation. He looked into her eyes and said, “Yes. Anything you want.”

She smiled, and for a moment that was all Jonathan could see. He reached for his bag under the desk, and rummaged around in the innermost pocket.

He pulled out a foil wrapped square, then said, “Do you want to do it? Or should I?”

Almost primly, Emma crossed her legs at the ankle. “I want you to do it.”

Jonathan’s head felt like it was full of electric current, waves of energy humming and building up in a dizzying way. A whole semester of restraint, and it was all coming down to this. 

He unbuttoned the waistband of his pants, pulled down the zipper. The faint sound of the teeth separating was drowned out by the blood rushing through his ears. He pulled his pants down just past his hips.

His boxer briefs provided only scant separation between him and Emma now. He paused, and saw that Emma was looking directly at the outline of his dick against the tight fabric. 

He stepped close to her, closing the space between them. Sometimes, he had lamented the fact that his desk was a bit too high, even for a tall man like himself. 

But in this moment, when he saw how their hips aligned perfectly, he was glad he’d never asked to switch it out. 

She looked up into his eyes, chin tilting up to reveal the satin skin of her neck. As he bent down to kiss her throat, he pulled her forwards so that her legs splayed on either side of him, and their hips pressed together tightly. 

As soon as her wet, warm center met his cock, every coherent thought he may have had evaporated from his mind. Even through two layers of fabric, the feeling of her against him had him harder than he had been in a long, long time. Having her fully pressed against him, flush against his body, was better than anything he had imagined. His eyes closed, and he let out a groan. 

Emma placed a hand on his chest, and used the other one to brace herself on the desk. Without warning, she rolled her hips forward. 

Jonathan suppressed a moan. “Emma-you can’t-”

She rocked her hips into him again. “Why not?”

The friction increased the pressure in his lower stomach to a boiling point, and he was struggling to control his breathing. 

He growled, low and deep in his throat and placed his hands on the soft curves of her pelvis right where the edge of her panties were. His thumbs pressed soft divots into her skin, and he said, “Do you want me to open the condom or not?”

She was leaning into him; his torso was the only thing keeping her from falling off the edge of the desk. Her skin was so soft and smooth against his, her curves felt exquisite under his hands. 

“Open it, Jonathan. I’m not doing anything to stop you.” The huskiness in her voice was hot and velvety in his ears. 

He picked the condom up off the desk, tore it open, and hastily discarded the wrapper. He pulled down the waistband of his underwear, finally freeing his erection from the close-fitting fabric. Carefully, he rolled the condom on, trying not to let the sensation of his own fingers push him closer to the edge. 

When it was properly in place, he nestled himself back in between her legs. With one hand, he pushed her underwear to the side, dipping his fingers into her once more. She moaned out loud, and he said, “Are you ready?”

She leaned forwards into him, and said, “Yes. Do it.”

He couldn’t believe that Emma, his ever reliable and diligent TA, was now almost naked sitting on his desk, legs splayed apart, looking at him with an almost feral expression, ready to take him inside. He was never going to be able to look at her again without imagining this in agonizing detail. 

He placed a hand at the base of his cock and slowly guided it towards her entrance. The head met her folds, and he pushed forwards into her carefully.

She was so, so warm, and wet, and soft and pliable all at once. He groaned and said, "Emma, you're unbelievable. I can't believe how tight you feel." He pressed into her halfway, and then withdrew. 

Her face had an indescribable expression on it, she looked like she was atmospheres away from the reality of where she was. 

“Do you want the whole thing?” Jonathan needed to hear her say it. 

“Yes. All of it. Put the whole thing inside me.” She was almost panting as the words fell out of her, eyes half lidded in bliss.

Jonathan didn’t hold back, he couldn’t. He thrust himself into her, until he was buried inside all the way. 

“Oh my god. Jonathan-”

He pulled out, and thrust into her again. Already, the pressure inside him was building to a dangerous level. Having her wrapped around him was a feeling more delectable than anything he could remember. 

“Your voice sounds so pretty when you say my name, Emma.”

He placed his hands under her ass, so he could lift her off the desk slightly. The change in angle sent him in even deeper. Trying to maintain control, he entered her with a slow, methodical rhythm, making sure he was hitting the most tender spot rooted deep inside her, where he knew the pressure of his cock filling her would send shockwaves through her system. 

With each thrust, he could feel her response deep within her body. Each gasp, each breath that escaped her went straight from his ears to the pool of heat coiling up low in his hips.

“Jonathan, this feels amazing. I can’t even-I feel like I’m on another planet.”

Despite everything, Jonathan laughed. He couldn’t string together a response, but he was charmed by her candidness.

The slickness inside her was destabilizing; it was taking everything Jonathan had to stay in control. He felt himself teetering on a precipice, but he knew Emma wasn’t quite there yet. 

He stilled momentarily to gather himself, knowing that if he kept going he wasn’t going to be able to last. While buried inside her, he leaned down and spoke into her ear, lips brushing against her skin. “Will you come for me, Emma? Can you do that?”

She arched her back in response, tilting him deeper into her. She turned her head, nose brushing his cheek. Breathily, she said, “I-I want to. Yes.”

He put his hands on her lower back, hugging her close. She was rocking her hips into his every thrust, and he could feel how much he filled her up, how her innermost muscles caressed and squeezed him from all sides. 

When Jonathan felt like he couldn’t possibly inch himself closer to the edge, her hands came up to clutch at his chest. With her head thrown back, she took in a sharp breath. Urgently, she said, “Jonathan, I’m gonna-I’m gonna come. Don’t stop. Jonathan-nnngh. Oh!”

Feeling his own release building, he pressed into her insistently, feeling her warm walls surrounding him tightly with each thrust.

The weight of her body resting on his hips, the sheen of sweat on her skin, the uncontrolled sounds coming out of her mouth, her inner thighs squeezing him, it became too much all at once. 

Months worth of tension, of sleepless nights and afternoons spent alone in his office, of listening to Emma’s bright laughter and looking at her soft smile burst forth as Jonathan came, hard. As his release rippled through him, he felt the muscles in her core clenching down on him forcefully, with abandon. Her body rolled and arched against him, and the pressure and warmth enveloping every inch of him shattered his inhibition. He groaned at the intensity of the uncontained raw energy that crackled through every nerve ending on his body.

Once all the waves had flowed away and calmed, he pulled out of her. At a loss for words, he just stared at her face as she stared at his. 

Finally, after a protracted silence, she said, “That was crazy.”

Jonathan nodded. He felt like crazy was probably an understatement when it came to describing whatever the hell had just happened. 

Gently, he grasped both of her hands in his. “Are you ok?”

She grinned at him. “Yeah. Yeah I’m great.” Leaning forward, she rested her forehead on his chest. “Thanks for being such a good professor. And thanks for…this.”

He nodded, unsure of exactly what to say. He reached behind her to trace small circles on her back with his fingers. 

After he felt fully grounded in reality again, he stepped back. The fluorescent lights were harsh, draining his surroundings of color, and the breeze from the air conditioning in his office felt slightly grating against his skin. Gently, he said, “It’s getting late, Emma. You should probably get going.”

He picked up her jeans from where they had landed on the ground, and handed them to her. 

Wordlessly, the two of them got dressed, covering up all the parts of themselves that had been so close only a few minutes before. 

Once they were both put back together, Emma slung her backpack onto one shoulder and moved towards the door of his office. She hovered there for a second, and then said, “Have a good break, Jonathan. See you next semester?”

He nodded. “See you next semester.”

She smiled softly, one corner of her mouth curving up more than the other. As she gripped the door handle, Jonathan said, “Emma?”

She turned to face him. “Yeah?”

“Get home safe. “

For a second, she just looked at him. Then, quietly, she said, “I will.”

She walked into the dark hallway, and the door fell closed behind her. 

Jonathan was alone in his office once more. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

New Message

To: ea.morgan@norcalu.edu                                                      Cc      Bcc

Subject: Next Semester

Emma,

Due to personal reasons, I have made the decision to choose a different person to TA for DATA1450 next semester. Please do not take this as an indication of any shortcomings regarding your character or performance. You were an excellent TA and a joy to interact with during lecture and meetings. I am more than happy to be a reference should you need a professional recommendation for other job opportunities on or off campus. 

I wish you the best during your final semester. If you need anything please don’t hesitate to email or Slack me, and my office door is always open if you would like to meet in person. 

Have a great rest of your break, a happy holiday season, and a happy new year. 

Keep in touch,

Jonathan Holbrook, Ph.D

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[builtbybrokenbells]

ive stuck to posting mostly fic content on this blog, and i will remain doing so from here on out. but in light of a certain post made, I came here to air out some feelings, I suppose. not in attempt to draw the light away from anybody, but more like a reflection in response.

from the minute i discovered gvf it was almost like a breath of fresh air. in the time listening to them, as an aspiring musician, artist, writer, or whatever the fuck I am, I’ve found great solace and inspiration in the four boys we love so much. today, i found a piece of home within them, too, but more specifically, from Josh.

i grew up and, unfortunately, still reside in a little, homophobic town that is nothing if not dedicated to normalcy. it has been a devastating twenty years of life knowing that my existence is abnormal to others, including some family and friends, and they would prefer if i remain quiet about it. ive lost friends, family, acquaintances, you name it, just because i was born the way i am. just the other day, there were news reporters in front of my apartment building seeking opinions on a lgbtq+ bill for youth passed by the government. that’s right, opinion, on the human rights of very real children that walk on the same streets they were spewing their hate on.

I’ve always been quite comfortable with who am sexuality-wise. from a very young age, to now, it has never been a debate or shameful idea to me. I’ve been very loud and proud, and will remain so. my gender, not so much. less than a month ago, i finally voiced my proper pronouns to the first person ever, after years of struggle with it. i still haven’t told family, or properly ‘came out’ (because, if you know me, you would know that i think the whole idea of coming out is quite ridiculous) and i have no plans on doing so in any intimate manner. but, today, a bit of courage bled into me from one of the people I look up to most, and i told a bit more of the world about myself.

to say i am beyond proud of josh for his transparency is not enough. what he did, although some would disagree, was one of the most courageous things a person in any type of spotlight could do. i surround myself with only a few people, and i have yet to find the power within myself to tell the closest to me, who i am. what i am more moved by, is that he used his platform to not only make himself known, but vocally and actively join an ongoing battle that many believe is already over. he was already such a beacon of light and love, that i did not believe he could be any more so. today, i happily admit that the idea was wholly untrue. not because of his sexuality or anything like that; he’s still the same Josh he has always been. but because his own moral was so strong that he, without fear, showed an intimate part of himself to the entire world, and guided others on how to help the cause in the process. it is admirable to be proud of who you are, but even more so to educate and inspire others while doing it.

being so vulnerable, especially in the public eye, is terrifying. being a beacon of light and love in a world full of hate and darkness is also terrifying. he did both today with grace and strength, and as someone who’s been actively fighting this fight for my entire lifetime, i am beyond words. i said a lot of things here, but nothing can truly amount to how i feel. i cannot articulate the feelings accurately, and in place of that, i ramble.

basically, if you stuck through this, thanks. if you use this angels sexuality against him in any way, i will find you. if this changed the way you view him, you didn’t deserve him in the first place. together, these four boys have created a community of love and all things that come with it; if you are not willing to give it back to them, or right now, him specifically, this is not the place for you. remember, as proud/happy/whatever you’re feeling about this, he’s still a person. the same one who you knew months ago, who worked to create the community and music we love and appreciate. that did not change, and there is no need to view him any differently. im certain that if he’s been so private about this for so long, he does not want the world to see him only as such.

so, from the bottom of my heart, the message of my rambling is to say im proud of him, and that im incredibly grateful for the chance to live in the same time as him. I’m even more thankful that his courage has given me some, too. be respectful of him and his privacy, because he is deserving of such (and much more). and, if you also find a piece of his courage within you, im proud of you, too.

as always, be kind, thanks for reading, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes ;) 🫶🏻

[reallyrunnyegg]

Last Lunch in Paris.

The Sun’s pure, golden light embraces me as if I were his own, surrounding me and the other occupied seats at the cafe with its radiance. All occupied but one. Regardless, it is still a glorious day, almost regrettably – often when I am on holiday I catch myself secretly hoping my last day is obscured by clouds and bombarded by rain, of course this doesn’t really matter as I am leaving, I just like believing I am heading somewhere brighter. You are late. This is not a rare occasion, the opposite actually, I knew you’d be late as much as I knew I’d accidentally be early. There’s little to do to kill time at the Mer de Bulles, I am growing restless just from thinking about all the stillness I must perform here, yet I can take some solace in the friendly faces around me. Around my intricate, metal island where I await your arrival, is an archipelago of tables, all of which are occupied by two to four people. Some faces are familiar, Monet sits across from me alongside Foucault and my eyes catch and hold eerily long eye contact with Nostradamus. A sea of bodies. Despite this flood of people around me I still feel quite alone. I suppose it is not the people themselves that remedy the loneliness but the connection that is birthed from familiarity, which I find very unfortunate as I struggle being a familiar presence anywhere and towards anyone. That is why I sit harbored alone, with only the light on my back for company.

‘On my way! now’

I read on my phone and begin my preparations, once again donning my light coat and changing my relaxed sitting position to a more rigid “I just sat down” look. If asked I could not tell you why I do these little irrational acts of pride, struggle discerning if it's for You or Me nowadays. I unlock my phone and respond to your message.

‘Here’

I survey the area, performing a balancing act of searching for you while appearing to be doing nothing at all, another exercise in pride that I’ve welcomed into my routine. And then there You are. I spot You first, timid and careful, bumping your way through the crowd like a salmon upstream, until eventually you see me. That moment of connection, of mutual observation, is electric. We embrace. We sit. We talk. You tell me about the trail your mind led you down to be late this time, apparently it was something to do with physics and soap, to which I respond with a scoff and an affectionate smile as my face betrays my thoughts. You finally ask me about my day, I say it was fine.

Now as we sit I begin to observe us from a birds eye view, the world going dark apart from our two seated table. I can’t believe how much we’ve changed while we remain exactly the same, You are still simple, soft and scared, while I remain solemn and cynical - well from my perspective. You treat me like a saint - no a visionary; you react to my murmurings like I’m a leading visionary in philosophy and art, like I’m the genius behind millions of unwritten best sellers. I wish I could meet the Me you see, just as much as I wish I could meet You as someone who isn’t Me. I feel slightly irritated as I continue my mental analysis of our relationship while you ramble away, maybe it’s because I know you don’t share these thoughts of mine, yet it is likely the same reason I’ve been attached to you all these years..

Then the sky bursts.

I’m flung through you, our skin becoming one just for a fleeting moment, I feel your teeth where mine should be, feel your hair falling onto cheeks that are not my own. We crash and fall backwards, individuals once again, witnessing the descent of a billion bubbles that warp and skew the reality of Paris, France. The cream floor splashes onto windows and walls making a passage that I grab you and run down. I see people dancing, or at least what were once people, their forms sharing the geometric freedom of a Picasso painting - in fact I believe he’s among them. They circle a bonfire of colors, all of which I have not been introduced to yet and refuse to embarrass myself in an attempt of description, we press onwards. You’re crying… something? Something foul and putrid, like death’s big brother, I find us sanctuary under a weeping bridge and begin licking your face. The sickness from your eyes doesn’t seem to relent so I wipe your other eye as I work my tongue into the other and I see you smiling. What an untimely moment to be captivated by such a beautiful smile. In my stupified state I’m thrown off by an amass of hungry arms bursting from one of the bubbles, I attempt to wrestle myself free of them but it’s clear this strength is not human, it’s clear nothing here is anymore. They take my eyes, they take my hands and my hair. They strip my clothes and my features, all the identifiers I once clung to in my performance of individualism, and then I’m gone. I thought. But then there’s You.