#instead of just like every other professor I've ever worked with

[ladybonheur]

A professor tells me to call them by their first name: That's it. I've peaked. I'm gonna get a good grade at academic interpersonal relations. Which is both possible to achieve and normal to want.

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

A good grade.

Pairing: Perv Art Professor!Joel x afab!reader Words count: 4844 Rating: +18, MDNI Summary: You always thought you would have a future in the art world, until you met Mr. Miller, your professor who decided to make your life hell. What are you willing to do for a good grade? Tags: perv!Joel, soft!Joel, power imbalance, degradation, smut, blackmail, reader is described having female genitalia, no other description of her is given, unspecified age gap (in my mind 24/45 but you can imagine whatever, they’re both grown up anyway), unprotected p in v (reader is on the pill but you know, do better irl), oral (f receiving), mention of blowjob, edging, edging with a brush, creampie, pet names, slurs, Joel has a dirty mouth, a lot of swearing, some reader's thoughts marked in italics.

Disclaimers: English is not my first language, very poorly proofread, no beta, it's all my fault and I'm very sorry! I like art but I'm not an expert, I've never taken lessons (well, in high school I did but it was art history and it was only theoretical) and I don't really know how they work, I made it all up so if it doesn't adhere to reality please excuse me. I hope you like it anyway, the other morning I woke up with the idea of ​​Joel painting me as one of his French girls (heheheheh) and I started writing this thing 💀

If anyone wants to be added or removed from the taglist, please let me know. Thanks to anyone who reads, I hope you like it ♥️

You’ve always loved art, since high school it’s always been your favorite subject and drawing and painting your outlet, your way of expressing yourself. Your teachers have always praised you, considering your works not only perfectly executed but significant, mature, full of pathos. Everyone has always told you that you had an eye for recognizing artistic value, you’ve always been the best in your class and you’ve worked hard to get here.

You graduated with excellent grades and were accepted into a prestigious master's program. You would like to become a professional artist or at least an art critic.

You had a bright future ahead of you, until you met Professor Joel Miller.

He has done nothing but criticize you, your skills and your work from the very first day. 

And he always does it deliberately, in front of everyone else. No matter how hard you try, you never get more than F for every work you submit. The disdain with which he treats you makes you feel like a failure and your breath die in your throat every time he lays eyes on you and says the most hateful words you’ve ever heard about yourself. Today it happened again. You spent sleepless nights working on this portrait, begging the model called by Professor Miller to see you after class hours. You even offered to pay her and she was kind, she didn’t ask for an outrageous amount despite the fact that she could have taken much more lucrative jobs instead of posing for you. You’re just a master’s student trying to support herself by working nights in a bar. 

“What is this?” he thundered looking at your painting “You are only getting worse, miss, I have never seen anything like this. It is indecent that a person like you tries to make art, it should be prohibited by law. Look at this, wrong proportions, no harmony, no attention to detail, nothing. This does not even look like the same person I had pose for hours in front of you. You should be ashamed to present a work like this after 6 months of course” 

You won't be able to finish your master's degree unless you get a passing grade in Professor Miller's course, but he doesn't seem at all inclined to give you even a measly D.

It’s a nightmare.

You'd be forced to start all over again, ask your parents for financial help, which is the last thing you want to do when they've already sacrificed so much to help you pay for college, or do the unthinkable and give up on all your dreams, the career you have cultivated with strength and passion throughout your life up until now.

You decide to make a last-ditch effort and try to talk to Mr Miller during his office hours.

You've always avoided it until now because you thought things would get better but it's the third F you get and you can't afford to go on like this. 

The idea of ​​being alone with him doesn't excite you at all, but you hate losing everything you've worked so hard for even more.

You take a deep breath before knocking on the door, terrified of what he might say to you.

Mr Miller is also an established artist and his work has been appreciated abroad so his disapproval could really preclude you from many opportunities. 

“Come in” even from behind closed door his voice sends shivers down your spine.

You walk in muttering “good afternoon” feeling like a complete idiot, you are already convinced that it was a mistake to come to him, nothing will change his mind. 

Joel is sitting behind his desk, frowning as he corrects tests. He looks up from the papers only when you are in front of him “Oh. it's you,” he says in his usual dismissive tone of voice “What do you want miss?” 

You clear your throat and murmur, “I...” his gaze is already back on the tests, he doesn't even look at your face as he fills the paper with red marks and writes a big circled F at the top, the assignment of some other hapless person like you who will find himself failing his class. Incredible anger mounts in your body, you clench your fists and say "excuse me" in a stern voice. 

It infuriates you, it's maddening how he can't even treat you as a human being for a second. 

"What do you want?" he asks annoyed looking back up at you "and be quick about it, you are wasting my time." 

“I'd like to know what I need to do to have you evaluate me favorably” you try to keep your tone as detached and respectful as possible even though you despise the man in front of you with every fiber of your body. 

“Nothing, you can't do anything, I thought you had figured it out by now, are you also stupid besides not having the slightest talent?”

“Actually...fuck, I don't think I am that bad. And I think you are judging me too harshly,” you spit out feeling tears stinging your eyes. You promised yourself to keep calm but the way he is treating you only makes you want to insult him.

“I advise you to moderate your tone if you don't want to be expelled as well as failed in my class.”

He has the upper hand, you can't do anything about it. A sense of frustration and helplessness crackles under your skin as you plead with him, “Please Mr Miller there must be something I can do to change things. Anything...I…I don't want to fail.” 

An evil grin paints on his face “how much do you care about it?” 

“It's the only thing I care about, please, art means everything to me” you look at him feeling your whole essence crumble in front of him, you are desperate and tired of struggling, you just want to find a way to work things out. You have very good grades in all the other courses, he is the only one stopping you from achieving what you want most in the world.

“Actually you could do something to make it better,” Joel suggests, and you cry, ”Please, I'll do anything.” 

“Anything?” he probes ”are you sure?” His smug, dangerous expression unnerves you, maybe you shouldn't have made yourself so vulnerable in front of him, but there's no turning back now. "Yes," you shriek.

He leans against the back of the chair while continuing to sneer under his mustache “Well, then I have an offer for you. I'm working on a series of paintings of women, you could pose for me.” 

“Me?” you ask confused, the last thing you expected was for him to ask you to paint you.  

“Why not, if nothing else you're pretty,” he admits, and it's the first nice thing about you that's ever come out of his mouth. 

You wonder what the scam is behind his proposal, it can't be that easy, he's probably going to ask you to pose with some repulsive animal or in a way that makes you look completely idiotic or he's just pretending that this is the solution but then he's going to blackmail you and make you regret setting foot in his office.

He writes something on a post-it note and hands it to you “Meet me at this address tomorrow night at 8” he orders you “don't be late” 

“I really...” you try to say. 

“What? Is there something more urgent you need to do besides securing good grades?” he raises an eyebrow scrutinizing your astonished face. 

“No it's just that...I'm supposed to be working at that time.” You mutter.

“Well get your shift changed, or ask someone to fill in for you, pretend to be sick, I don't care, just show up.” He barks at you. 

“Okay,” you agree. You can't say no, it's your last resort, either that or total defeat. 

You walk out of his office with the feeling that you have gotten into big trouble. 

_____________________________

You get confirmation of this the next day when you show up at the address written by Professor Joel. It's on a suburban street with little traffic, in front of you is what looks like an abandoned former factory. A blast of cold air makes you shiver as you ring an old intercom near the front door. You huddle in your coat, wondering where the hell you are. Maybe he gave you the wrong address just to make fun of you, you took two buses to get here, at the very least you'll soon find out your professor isn't even here. 

Surprisingly, he answers you instead, his thick voice ordering you to come up. You enter through the doorway into a dusty, bare lobby, only an old freight elevator in front of you. You push the button and the elevator car begins to descend with a sinister, metallic sound. "What the hell is this place?” you ask yourself "my god, I'm going to end up dead and thrown in a dumpster". You get on the elevator with your heart in your throat praying that there isn't a serial killer waiting for you on the other side. 

The doors suddenly open wide onto a large room with concrete columns. You step out and look around, there is a large table in the corner, chock full of artists' materials, tempera, canvases, oil paints, watercolors, all thrown in bulk. Various canvases are resting on pedestals scattered around the room, and others lie leaning against the wall. There is an old leather couch in the corner and a double mattress resting on wooden pallets on the other side. Several rugs are spread on the floor. It's all messy and chaotic, but it definitely has the look of an art studio. 

"Oh, you're here at last," Joel grunts, popping up from behind a pillar holding a dirty brush stained with red tempera. 

He is wearing a pair of frayed jeans and a white T-shirt stained in paint, he is disheveled and barefoot. 

He doesn't even look like your professor; he always wears suits and perfectly ironed shirts at university. 

Two large leaded windows divided into small squares open on the wall in front of you. 

It’s dark by now, so the entire room is softly lit by several lamps and candles scattered around. 

“Where should I stand to pose?” you don't intend to put in more than is necessary; spending time with this obnoxious man is the last thing you want to do today. 

“Sit on the couch,” Joel orders, pointing to the old leather ruin to your right, ”I'll prepare the necessities and we'll get started.” 

You sit, quietly, dreading what lies ahead. 

Joel picks up a blank canvas and places it on a stand, takes a graphite pencil from the table and orders you " Undress" 

You squint your eyes, squeaking “I'm sorry, what?”

“I'm making a series of artistic nudes, didn't I tell you?” he grins 

“No, you don’t” you retort. 

Fucking bastard. 

“Strip” he repeats firmly. 

“But I don't-”

“Look, you're already irritating me, either take off your fucking clothes or get out of here” 

You've seen people pose nude in your art classes before, even in Professor Joel's class, and all you've ever cared about was doing a good job, but now it's different. It's just you and him, in a place in the middle of nowhere, you weren't warned before, and more importantly, he makes you uncomfortable. 

His gaze has done nothing but judge you from the first moment it landed on you. You don't want to lose that last bit of dignity you still preserve and let him see you in your most intimate form. 

“So what have you decided?” Joel presses you. 

With extreme reluctance, you begin to take off your coat, laying it on the couch. What else can you do? By now you have fallen into a trap, either you do this or your grade at the end of the course will be F. 

F for failure.

“Damn asshole,” you think, ”I hope I never see you again in my life after your fucking course is over.” 

The resentment must be clear on your face because Joel mocks you “Oh come on, don't pout like that. There's nothing underneath that I haven't seen a hundred times before. It's just tits and a cunt” he concludes in a dismissive tone, crossing his arms over his chest impatiently.

He rolls his eyes when after some hesitation you slip off the T-shirt you are wearing, revealing a light pink lace bra. 

He curls his lips "cute," he whispers in a lascivious tone " take that off too." 

“But Mr Miller I...” you try to retort

“Go ahead and take it off,” your arms reach for your back, you undo the hooks of your bra and drop it to the floor. You cannot believe this is happening, you are bare-chested in front of your professor. 

"Very well..." he acquiesces, "you see, everything is easier when you cooperate." 

He strokes his beard as he glances at you remove your shoes and pulling down your jeans, the same smug, dangerous smile he had in his office returns to peep across his face.

“Good girl.” 

You feel a knot in your stomach. And you who thought that commitment and talent were enough to get results...poor naive girl. 

You should get out of here and go to the dean and report him for unethical conduct but you suddenly realize that he may be the first, but he won't be the last. 

"Lie down on the couch," Joel whispers to you, his gaze not leaving your body, hungry and demanding. 

You don't want to be here, yet you feel you can't do anything else at this point. 

"Raise your right arm above your head," Joel instructs, "and bend your legs slightly." 

“Like this. Don't move," Joel stands in front of the canvas and begins to trace marks on the surface. His hand moves quickly, his fingers run over the traced lines smudging them. 

You remain still as he ordered you, feeling goosebumps across your body and your nipples harden from the cold. 

You have to admit to yourself that it is fascinating to watch him work; his gaze is alert and sure, his hands move expertly and competently. He is certainly talented. 

Joel observes the work done so far, scratching his chin, adding a few touches here and there as his eyes scan the entire surface of the canvas.

Maybe he really just wants to paint you and you're making a big deal out of nothing, maybe this will end well after all. He moves the easel to one side of the sofa you assume to look at you from another angle until he growls “Spread your legs for me, darling” 

“But I don't-”

“I need more shadows on your  body”

“What?” you glance at him, this sounds like a lame excuse. 

“Spread your legs” he repeats ”come on” 

You do so, feeling his eyes everywhere on you, feeding on every uncovered inch of your skin. And for some reason you cannot explain, you feel your body react under his gaze. You peak at the outline of his cock straining under his jeans, a rush of adrenaline rushes through you, a flush of arousal between your legs. 

No, you can't. 

You cannot crave for him to look at you. He's your professor who lured you here under false pretenses. 

Yet you realize how incredibly handsome he is. So far you had only thought of him as your teacher and had never truly paused to observe him, especially since he always treated you like a dirtbag. 

“Perfect, now stay still like this,” he mutters.

He hums as you do “Such a good girl for me” in a mellifluous and manipulative tone.

You feel his voice penetrate deep into your bones and another thrill of arousal runs through you all, gliding under your skin and straight to your pussy. 

This is so fucked up but on the other hand you are thrilled by the idea of ​​ending up in one of his paintings.

He makes a couple of changes to the sketch and then walks over to you, sitting on the armrest of the couch. He watches you intently, as if he wants to study every tiny detail about you, you still have your panties on but you've never felt more naked than that.

“Hmm, someone is wet.” he observes, gazing at the wet spot on your underwear. “It’s all for me?”

“I…uh…no, absolutely not” You don't want to admit it even to yourself but the situation is turning you on, no matter how wrong it is. 

“Honey, I advise you never to play poker,” he sneers. You look at him puzzled, and he adds, “You're not good at bluffing at all.”

When he reaches out a hand to touch you, you almost tremble, it's as if your body is crying out to him “take me. use me.”

All you ever wanted from the beginning was his approval and now somehow he seems to recognize something in you. You just want to stop arguing, to stop fighting, to stop feeling like you are worth less than nothing, you just want to know that you still have a future that consists of not settling for a job that you don't love and doesn't allow you to feel fulfilled and let you get the results you know you deserve. 

And most of all, you want him to be on your side.

“You're such a pretty little thing, you know that?” his voice gruels as his fingers run from your ankle to your knee and then up to your inner thigh. You stiff, feeling your heart raging up under your ribcage and a fresh flush of arousal dampening your cunt.

How did you never realize how sexy this man is? Now that his gaze has softened you notice the deep brown of his eyes, with some hazel undertones, and how he lights up as he stares at you. 

God, you want him so bad right now. 

You are almost on the verge of grabbing his wrist and placing his big hand on your pussy already, but you decide to let him. 

His fingers move slowly over your skin; instead of touching you where you need it most, his hand stops at your hip, fiddling with the hem of your panties. 

"Can I?" he grunts. 

You nod silently and he demands “I need you to use your words, baby. Speak to me”

“Yes” you breath 

He grins as he places his other hand on your hip and begins to pull down your panties. You lift your pelvis to ease him, and he comments, "mmm, so eager. You’re such a slut, aren’t you?”

You feel your cheeks on fire as you cannot take your eyes off him, desperately in need of his hands, his lips, his tongue and his cock. You want it all, right now. So maybe he’s right, you’re a slut and you don’t even care. 

Joel calmly moves your panties down your legs and brings them to his nose, inhaling your scent. “Sweet. I bet you taste even better.”

He gets up from the couch, tucking your panties into his jeans pocket, and takes a clean brush from a container resting on the table. He sits back right next to you, and grins. 

He caresses the inside of your leg with the brush, the feeling of the bristles flowing over your skin is incredible, soft and intense at the same time, leisurely moving on your inner thigh, raising up closer and closer to your pussy, his eyes set in yours, mesmerized by you.

You are subjugated by him as he fondles you, going up your belly with his brush, deliberately ignoring your pussy, moving deftly over every curve of your body. It is as if he is painting you, as if he has made you his work of art.

The bristles rub over your rib cage, slowly, then your breasts, moving in concentric circles from your areola to your nipples. He passes the brush back and forth over your hard buds and a deep moan escapes from your throat. “Please, Mr Miller” you whine. 

“You can call me Joel, darling” he whispers “what do you need?” 

“I…fuck” You’re dripping wet, your voice is a wail and your body is itching to be touched. 

“Say it.” he orders you, ”I want to hear it.”

“I want - fuck - my pussy” you blather, you are not even able to form a complete sentence right now.

Joel laughs faintly, descending again on your abdomen, very slowly, until he reaches your mound. He rubs the bristles from right to left lingeringly, then lowering again, descending on your outer lips, first one side and then the other. And then again and again. 

When he finally brushes over your clit, you are so pent up and needy that you arch your back, emitting a throaty moan. 

“Oh God! Oh my God”

Joel lowers the brush to your clit, surrounding it with the bristles, pushing and making concentric circles. He stops when he feels you on the edge. 

And then he does it all again, circling and pressing, jerking your bundle of nerves with the brush. And then a third time. 

You’re a crying mess at this point, mind completely numb and your body covered in sweat.

He spreads your folds with his thumbs and sighs, “Look at this pussy, all nice and wet for me, I can’t wait to dip into your sweet honey, babe”

He throws the brush on the floor, it falls with a dull thud bouncing on the carpet. 

“So fucking perfect” 

You squeeze your eyes whining “please" a riot of emotions assail you, your body is so on the edge you could explode just by the way he looks at you, moistening his lips with his tongue.

He puts his arms around your neck, “cling to me,” he whispers. You do as he says, instinctively encircling his waist with your legs, clinging to his body with all your strength as he carries you to the bed and lays you gently on top.

He undresses, staying in his boxers in front of you. 

You can't take your eyes off him, gazing at his wide shoulders, his broad chest, his soft belly with a thin strip of hair running down into his boxers. 

He kneels on the bed, facing you, gently spreading your legs and moving between them. 

He lowers himself on you, placing a kiss on your clit, making you whimper another pathetic "please." 

He sticks his tongue out and runs it flat across your folds, up and down, one hand firmly clinging to your hip, his fingers digging into your skin. 

"I was right, you taste amazing," he murmurs against your skin. 

You are no longer thinking about anything right now, not about your master's degree, evaluations or the fact that he is your teacher. 

You feel his nose hitting on your clit as he eagerly licks your folds, opening them with two fingers to sink his tongue in. 

You bite your lower lip, stifling your moans, burying a hand in his dark curls, pulling him toward you “oh fuck, yes”.

His tongue encircles your hard clit, swirling around, his lips lace over it sucking greedily.

“You don’t need to hold back, you can be as loud as you want in here, no one will hear us. Let me hear you, baby. I wanna know how you sound when you come” 

He doesn't stop sucking and licking until you feel your orgasm mount inside you like a flooding river, invading your body, curving your toes, clenching your fists on the sheet beneath you and rolling your hips on his face, wetting his lips, his chin, dripping onto your inner thigh. 

“Yeah, baby, come apart on my tongue, just like that”

He licks you clean until you calm down, devouring your juices to the last drop and then looks up at you “you have no idea how beautiful you are, starving for my cock” he groans “god, I must have you right now, I must make you mine, you hungry little whore”

You wait for nothing else, it seems your thirst has no way to quench today.

“Please, Joel,”

He pulls off his boxers, throwing them on the floor, his cock springs free and is incredibly hard, you can't stop looking at it. He's big, so big you don't even know how he's going to fit all the way inside you but you don’t care. “Fill me up, Joel, please”

“Yeah? You want this big cock inside you? Want me to fill you up so good baby?” He grumbles.

“Please, Joel, it’s all I need” you whine. 

He lies on top of you, tapping your lips a few times with the tip, running it along your folds and wetting it with your juices, aligning himself with your opening, “I'll give you what you want, then.”

He nudges at your hole a moment before he enters you, just the tip, pressing gently to let you get used to his intrusion. 

You moan feverishly, clinging to his back, bucking your hips toward him “more, please, more” you plea. 

As he plunges inside you, he stares at your face, as if he doesn’t want to miss a single second of your reactions, when he’s ball deep into you you let out an incoherent whine so graveling it doesn’t even sounds like your voice. 

He begins to pump into you as you circle his waist with your legs again, pushing to feel him deeper, your hands roaming in his graying hair. 

“Here you go, taking me so well princess, you’re so good to me” 

When his lips settle on yours you realize that you had not yet kissed until this moment. His lips are soft, demanding, his tongue penetrates your mouth licking eagerly, and you are more than happy to respond, savoring his taste of mint and cigarettes. 

One of his hands kneads your breast, his fingers close on one of your nipples as his cock doesn't stop sinking inside you.

You moan into his mouth feeling like you are on the edge of a cliff, ready to fall into the sinful pit of hell. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers in your ear, and your voice comes out broken from the back of your throat  ”Inside. please. I'm - fuck - I'm on the pill.” 

You feel him spilling his load inside you a moment later, painting your inner wall with his hot sticky cum. 

You feel delirious and exhausted, guilty for what you just did. Your moral code has just been shattered under the hot weight of his body.

He kisses you again, lingering on your bottom lip. “You’re so much better than I thought,” he chuckles. 

He moves away from you and stands up naked to return to the sketch. He traces a few lines and makes some adjustments as you stare at him in amazement.

“Can you show me?” you ask. “Yes, come here,” he replies. You get up and stand next to him to observe the canvas. Your body is sketched on it and it looks perfect, you have never seen yourself so beautiful.

“You can go if you want, I’m done for today” 

“I- I don’t want to”

“Do you want more?” he sneers “god, you really are a slut.” he comments as he gets closer to you. 

He fucks you two more times, the first time he makes you get on all fours, licking your pussy from behind and then sinking into you while he holds you by the hips, his cock slamming against your cervix and his balls against your ass. Then you’re too eager to have him in your mouth, to taste your flavor mixed with his, so you offer to give him a blowjob and he fucks your mouth before digging back into your pussy again.

He drives you back to campus. “I may be an asshole, but I won’t let you walk around alone at night,” he says. 

You get out of his car feeling like you’re in a bubble, like everything that happened was just a surreal dream you can’t wake up from. You collapse into your bed after throwing your clothes haphazardly on the floor. When you wake up the next morning you feel like shit. 

You don't know how boldly you will look your classmates in the eye, but you can't skip class, and the thought of seeing Joel again thrills you, no matter how wrong it is. 

When Joel enters the classroom, he ignores you, probably so as not to arouse suspicion; it would be too strange for him to treat you with regard after denigrating you for months.

He begins returning graded tests proceedings slowly as usual, moving between desks and laying down the papers without making any comment. The test that rests on your desk has a circled A at the top.

Tag list: @aurorawritestoescape @baronessvonglitter @lemon-nomel @almostempty @thundermartini @harriedandharassed @pedrostories

[janiehellion]

Troublemaker

ONESHOT

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Daryl Dixon knew better than to challenge you, yet the thrill of breaking the rules was too tempting to resist. He let you play your game—by his own rules—because certain forbidden lessons in trouble were just meant to be learned.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: TEACHER!DARYL DIXON X FEM!STUDENT READER

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: SMUT / LANGUAGE / BLOWJOB / CUNNILINGUS / TEASING / ROUGH SEX / TABOO

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.350

ꜱᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ: PRE-APOCALYPSE—ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

ʀᴇǫᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @mikes-babygirl

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ's ɴᴏᴛᴇ: A quick heads-up—I changed the setting from a typical school to college, and made Daryl a younger substitute professor, instead of a regular and much older teacher on purpose. I just wanted the story to feel more comfortable and kinda more mature overall. Even though it’s fiction, I don't want to cross certain lines. But I do hope that I've still done the request justice, after all...

MASTERLIST & REQUEST GUIDELINES

You walked into the room, already preparing yourself for another boring day at college. It wasn’t that you hated college exactly—it was just more of the same, day after day. You threw your bag next to your desk and sat down in your seat, scrolling through your phone while the other college students started to get ready for class.

But then you looked over to the door.

Of all people to be teaching today—it was him. Mr. Dixon. Just your luck. You’d always had a problem with this guy. Sure, he was good-looking—annoyingly good-looking, actually—but that just made it worse. Someone that hot shouldn’t have the right to be such a pain in the ass. And the constant lecturing like he knew everything? He had that whole "I’m smarter than you!" attitude, and it drove you crazy.

He hadn’t done anything yet, but just the sight of him was enough to piss you off.

And as soon as he started the lesson, talking and gesturing around, you immediately zoned out.

It just didn’t matter.

You were more focused on how he stood there, acting like he had everything under control and looking all arrogant. You hated that. And there was no way you were just going to sit through this class quietly.

So you raised your hand slowly.

"Yeah?" Mr. Dixon turned to you, raising an eyebrow in that way that made you want to punch his face.

You shrugged, leaning back casually. "Just wondering... what’s the point of all this? I mean, history? It’s not like we need this for our major. This has nothing to do with what we're actually studying."

He looked irritated but kept his cool. Of course he did. "It’s 'bout understandin' why the world works the way it does—no matter what field you’re in."

You rolled your eyes. "Yeah, right. Like learning this bullshit is gonna pay my bills."

A few students laughed, but Mr. Dixon's expression didn��t change. "The point of learning history is to understand how people like ya keep makin' the same mistakes—and why they're still broke."

"Sounds like a waste of time," you muttered loud enough for him to hear.

He paused, staring at you for a moment longer than necessary, so you leaned forward, looking into his eyes as if daring him to say something else. He wouldn’t. He knew better.

Daryl sighed loudly and continued with the lesson, but you weren’t done. Throughout the class, you kept at it—making comments or sighing dramatically in annoyance every time he explained something.

At one point, you put your feet up on the desk, pushing your chair back lazily. "Seriously, Dixon, can we speed this up? Some of us have better things to do."

His eyes looked toward your legs, then back to your face, but he didn’t say anything. He was trying hard to keep his cool.

With a yawn, you stretched your arms over your head, and as time went on, you decided to continue.

"So, Dixon," you said loudly, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Ever thought about getting a real job instead of just playing teacher?"

This time, he paused. Really paused.

You knew you’d provoke him eventually, but that’s exactly what you wanted. You wanted him to react.

But instead, he just gave you a small, almost unnoticeable smirk. "Careful, ya might just find out I’m more qualified than ya think."

Your heart skipped a beat. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

In one way or another, you spent the rest of class barely paying attention, since something about that smirk he gave you before had pissed you off more than usual.

As soon as the bell for the break rang, you waited near the classroom door, pretending to chat with a few friends until he left the room as well. Once the hallway was empty and everyone was out of sight, you slipped back in.

First, you walked up to his desk, staring at the pile of papers he's left there. It was all so organized, so... proper. You hated it. With one quick move, you knocked the papers to the floor, scattering them all over the place.

Your eyes then landed on his bag on the chair behind the front desk. Without thinking twice, you grabbed it and looked through it. There were a few personal items still inside—a notebook, some other papers, and a lighter.

"A smoker, huh?"

You then looked through the notebook. There were random notes, lesson plans, and other things you didn’t even care about, but something about it being his made you want to ruin it. Without hesitating, you ripped out the pages, tearing them apart.

"Not enough..."

You grabbed the lighter, turning it on, before you held it to some of the torn-out pages, watching it burn for a few more seconds before dropping it onto the pile of papers on the floor, while making sure the windows were open to avoid triggering the smoke alarm.

Anything to piss him off.

And just as you were about to leave, your eyes landed on his coffee mug, which he's left behind. That stupid mug he always carried around. Without thinking twice, you grabbed it, throwing it against the wall, and before anyone could catch you, you slipped back out of the room, blending in with the crowd of other college students outside, acting like nothing had happened.

Soon, the break was almost over, but the classroom was still empty. Mr. Dixon walked in first, and the second he saw the mess, his eyes widened—papers torn and burned, the broken coffee mug on the floor... He didn’t say anything; he just stood there, taking it all in.

"Ugh… Really?" He mumbled to himself. "Yer testing me, huh? Alright then."

He walked around the room slowly, closing the open windows and getting rid of the chaos you'd left behind.

"Ya want my attention?" He said quietly, almost like he was talking to you even though you weren’t there. "Ya sure as hell got it."

He should’ve been pissed, but there was something that made him more curious than angry.

Now, he quickly straightened up as he heard footsteps approaching from the hallway. He watched the door, waiting for you to walk back in, knowing full well what you’d done.

The college students soon began walking back into the room, and you were one of the last to come in, casually late, throwing yourself into your chair while your eyes looked to Mr. Dixon, standing at the front, but... with no hint of anger.

His eyes soon met yours for a second—just long enough to make your heart race—but then he looked away again.

"Alright," he began, "we’re gonna continue with something different now."

He walked to the front of his desk, grabbing a stack of books he'd brought with him to the classroom—Divided Loyalties. He held one up, flipping through the pages and then passing them out. As you grabbed your copy, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. American Revolution? Really?

"This play's 'bout a family torn apart by their opposing views," he explained, walking slowly in front of the board. "Patriots, loyalists, people choosing sides. The family in this play has to decide where their loyalty lies—what side of history they wanna be on. Some of 'em follow, others... they go with what’s expected. Either way, their choices split 'em apart."

He didn’t say it outright, but you felt it. He picked this damn play on purpose.

You tapped your fingers on your copy of the book, half-listening to him, half-lost in your thoughts. It was like he was waiting for you to make a move. But what move exactly?

"The point of this," he said, moving around again, "is that sometimes we get pulled in two directions. Loyalties get tested. But what matters is whether or not ya own yer choices."

That last line felt like it was meant just for you. There it was again—that feeling. Unspoken, electric. Like you both knew exactly what was happening between the two of you, but neither of you wanted to admit it.

He stepped away, continuing with his explanation about the play.

"Ya know," he continued, leaning back against his desk, arms crossed again. "A lotta people thought on either side they were just troublemakers. Pissin' off each other, causin' problems... all 'cause they couldn’t keep their mouths shut." His eyes looked to yours again, almost like a challenge.

You bit your lip, trying to focus on the book, but his voice, his presence—it was all too distracting somehow. He knew exactly what he was doing. And it was working.

One of the students sitting a couple of rows over raised their hand. "Mr. Dixon, did you ever have to deal with that? Like, divided loyalties? You seem like you know what that feels like."

He paused, smirking a bit, but didn’t answer right away. Instead, he was looking almost amused. "What makes ya say that?"

The student shrugged. "I dunno, just the way you talk about it. It’s like you’ve been through some stuff and things yourself."

"Let’s just say I’ve seen my share of... divided loyalties." He glanced at the board. "But that ain't the point of the lesson."

Another student chimed in. "What did you do before teaching, anyway? You weren’t always here. You don’t seem like... a regular teacher."

He laughed, shaking his head slightly. "That’s because I’m not. Jus' a substitute, fillin' in until I finish my graduate program. I’m workin' toward my Master’s in Education. Right now, I'm here until the regular prof returns. Ya don’t have to worry; I ain't stickin' 'round forever."

Your curiosity was growing, though you’d never admit it. He didn’t fit the type of a normal professor at all, and now it was obvious why. He wasn’t one. Well… Not really.

"Now, back to the lesson," he continued. "Troublemakers…" He said the word slowly, like he was testing it out. "Sometimes, trouble’s what shakes things up. Forces people to finally pay attention."

Your heart was racing faster and faster. He was toying with you, and you knew it. He was playing a game, and you hated how much it was getting under your skin. But part of you... part of you liked it. The push, the pull, the challenge between the two of you. He wasn’t like the other teachers who'd have scolded you by now. No, he was letting you come at him, daring you to make your next move and to fuck up.

And you couldn’t help but play along.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms with a bored look on your face. "It's just another pointless play to rot our brains with bullshit that we don't even need for our future."

He gave you a quick glare, but he was still rather unimpressed with your attitude. "If ya think it’s pointless, maybe ya ain't puttin' enough effort into understanding it."

"Effort?" You snorted and smirked. "The only effort I see is you trying to make us suffer with bullshit no one even gives a fuck about."

He narrowed his eyes at you, but he was still in control. "Perhaps if ya paid more attention, ya’d understand why this bullshit is still relevant."

"Relevant? Don’t make me shit myself," you snapped back, now leaning forward to rest your elbows on your desk.

The room was quiet, all eyes looking between you and Mr. Dixon, but no one else dared to say anything.

Daryl sighed, clearly fed up somewhere deep inside. "That’s quite a way to talk to a teacher."

"Yeah? But you aren't a real teacher, nor will you ever become a professor, so what are you going to do about it?" You shot back. "Get me suspended? From college? As if any prof would even do that! Or how about you give me detention? Oh wait, you’re already doing that with your shitty lessons."

He stepped closer to you, smirking as well. "Watch ya damn mouth an' shut it."

"Or what?" You taunted. "Are you going to make me?"

His eyes were burning into yours, and for a moment, it felt like there was something else there in them—something else than simple irritation and annoyance.

"Is that what ya want?" He asked, putting his hands into his pockets. "For me to give ya what yer askin' for?"

"Oh, please! Like that’s going to make any difference!" You laughed back at him, waving one hand in dismissal.

"Yer testing my patience," he answered, his voice still calm. "And yer 'bout to find out how far I’m willin' to go to get ya suspended, if that's what ya really want. Or maybe expelled. Even if this is college."

The room was dead silent, the other students watching with wide eyes and whispering to each other. But you didn’t care.

"Expelled, huh? Those are some serious words for someone who’s barely even qualified to be teaching," you smiled.

Daryl didn't respond immediately; he just stared at you with that still calm expression. Like he was holding back.

Finally, he took a step back. "Ya think this is a joke?"

You shrugged, yawning and smirking at him. "Well, I’m not exactly learning anything here, so yeah, it really is kinda funny."

But the smirk on your face faded the second he slammed his hands down loudly on your desk, making you jump.

"Enough!" He said, his voice only a growl.

You opened your mouth to snap back once more, but he cut you off before you could even speak.

"Detention," he continued. "After school. We’ll see how ya will act when there’s no one else 'round to laugh.”

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back, trying to seem unimpressed. "Fine. But I’m not scared of you, Dixon."

He walked back to the front desk, giving you one final look. "Ya will be."

The bell rang soon enough, and everyone else went to walk out of the room. You stood up slowly as well, watching Daryl write notes down on a paper at his desk like nothing had happened.

But that last glare? That look in his eyes? You couldn't think about anything else as the hours passed.

And now you had detention with him. Alone.

Detention had seemed more appealing than getting suspended or expelled, of course, especially from college by a substitute teacher who still didn't graduate himself yet, but it wasn’t exactly what you’d hoped for in one way or another. Mr. Dixon had made it clear you’d be staying after the lessons, and now here you were, sitting at the front of the room, waiting for him to show up.

The minutes ticked by until Mr. Dixon walked in, his face looking as neutral as ever.

"Well, well, well," he started as he stood near the door, closing it slowly. "I didn't think I'd actually be seein' ya here." He crossed his arms over his chest. "But here we are."

"Guess I just wanted to make it all a little more exciting for myself," you shot back.

He stepped closer, not invading your personal space but close enough. "Excitin', huh? Or just plain stupid?"

"Depends on who you ask," you replied, crossing your arms. "What’s next, more boring lectures? Another dumb play?"

"Maybe... or maybe I’ll find another way to keep your attention," he said, taking another step closer.

You smirked, rolling your eyes. "Yeah, right. As if you could keep me interested. You don’t scare me, Dixon; I've said it before, and I'll always say it again. Why? Wanna try me? I dare you to try."

Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, the move sending adrenaline straight through your body in an instant. "Careful what ya wish for."

His eyes moved down to your lips, and for a short moment, you thought he might actually kiss you. But as fast as that thought came into your mind, you quickly pushed it away again.

"Maybe ya wanna find out how far I’ll go to teach ya a lesson," he challenged, his breath smelling like cigarettes.

"Maybe I do," you replied. "Or maybe I don't."

He let go of your wrist and walked back to the front desk, but the distance between you still felt nonexistent.

"And I don't care," he answered, setting the book from all those hours before down on the desk. "Yer going to reread Divided Loyalties again. I want ya to pay close attention this time. Maybe ya will finally learn, or at least shut up."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a laugh. "Like learning how to deal with your bullshit?"

He ignored the comment. "Start readin'. I’ll be gradin' some papers in the meantime."

You shrugged, picking up the book. But as you looked through the pages, an idea started forming in your mind. If Mr. Dixon wanted you to take this seriously, you were going to make it interesting—by your own rules.

You looked over at him, already busy with his grading. Perfect. You began to read aloud, but not in the way he might have hoped, interpreting the text in your own way and playing around with the words.

"Forsooth, thou hast a long and sturdy lance," you read, your voice now louder on purpose. "I’d wager it could penetrate any barrier with ease."

His head moved up and his eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing, choosing to let you continue.

You pressed on as you read. "Verily, thy bedchamber is most inviting. I am most eager to partake in its pleasures."

You leaned back in your chair, watching him closely as you continued. "Our loyalty lies not just in our words, but in the way we... entertain each other behind closed doors."

His eyes looked at you again, and you could see the struggle on his face to keep his calm. It was clear you were getting under his skin, and you loved it.

You let out a rather quiet laugh, closing the book and stretching yourself. "You know, Mr. Dixon, I think I’m starting to understand the ‘divided loyalties’ part. Sometimes, it’s hard to stay loyal to something when there are so many... distractions."

Daryl raised an eyebrow with a small yet almost unnoticable smirk. "Okay, enough," he said. "Let me tell ya somethin'. In this room, I'm in charge. Ya will do as I say as long as I am yer teacher."

"Fine," you answered him through clenched teeth, glaring at him. "But let me tell you something as well, Dixon. In this room, I'm not going to just sit here and do shit! And I want something in return. Deal?"

Daryl leaned against the desk, crossing his arms over his muscular chest. "And what exactly would that be?" He asked, his blue eyes looking at you with a frown.

"I want..." Your voice trailed off as you tried to find the right words. "I want... you," you finally said, the words surprising even yourself.

Daryl just stared at you, his expression unreadable. Finally, he nodded slowly. "Alright," he said. "If ya wanna play that kinda game, then I'll play along. But only if ya agree to my terms."

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart racing in your chest. This just got too real, even for your taste, but what were you expecting? You didn't know. But part of you wanted this as much as you tried to deny it. "Wait… What? What terms exactly? What…"

"First, this stays between us. No one can know about our... arrangement. Second, ya will do whatever I say, both in and outta this room. And third, ya will keep up with yer damn work from now on and calm down with yer shitty behavior."

You nodded slowly, feeling your pulse racing at the thought of what you're about to agree to. "Fine," you answered. "I accept your terms."

Daryl then moved towards you again. "Good," he said, reaching out to cup your chin with his hand. Then it happened. He leaned in closer once more. Your breathing stopped for a moment as his lips brushed against yours, teasing you with a hint of a kiss.

"Dixon," you breathed, half a protest and half a plea. "Don't you fucking dare."

"Shut up," he murmured against your lips before kissing them fully, his hands framing your face.

The kiss was intoxicating—all heat and urgency. You melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepened the kiss, feeling the world around you fade away while tasting nicotine on your tongue… and you wanted more.

"Yer gonna do everythin' I tell ya to do," he mumbled, his lips brushing lightly against your ear after he broke the kiss. "And if ya disobey me, there will be consequences. But I think ya know that by now, don't ya?"

You gasped as one of his hands moved away from your chin, along the side of your neck, before slipping beneath the collar of your shirt, grabbing it, and pulling you out of the chair toward the front desk.

"Yes," you whispered, feeling yourself already getting wetter with every passing second. "I know and I understand."

Daryl's grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly, and you let out a small moan. "Good," he said, smirking a little. "Now, ya better be gettin' down on yer knees."

You hesitated for just a moment before slowly sinking down onto the floor of the room, watching as Daryl undid the button of his pants. "Take it out," he commanded.

You reached out with trembling hands, fumbling around as you pulled his thick, hard cock out.

"Now, put it in yer mouth," Daryl said. "And don't ya dare bite down on it."

You smirked and leaned forward, wrapping your lips around the head of Daryl's cock and sucking gently while looking up at him. He let out a groan, his fingers holding your head and playing with your hair as he began to guide you and move his hips.

"That's it," he murmured. "Jus' like that. Suck it harder. Show me how much ya wanna be good again."

You obeyed his command, applying more pressure with your lips as you worked your way further down his swelling shaft. His breathing got more uneven, and you could tell just how much he was enjoying this already.

"Yeah, jus' like that," he said breathlessly, his hips beginning to thrust forward a little harder. "Oh fuck, yer so good at this."

You felt yourself getting even more turned on by his words and reached down between your legs, sliding your fingers inside your pants and beneath your panties, stroking gently at your swollen, aching clit.

Daryl must've sensed the change in your behavior because he suddenly pulled away from you, his cock slipping out from between your lips. "That's enough for now."

He reached down, helping you to your feet before leading you over towards the desk at the front of the room. He bent you over it, your tits and stomach pressed against the surface.

"Now, get those pants off and spread yer legs for me," he said. "I wanna see how wet ya are."

You obeyed his command again, parting your legs as wide as they'd go after pulling down your pants and panties. Daryl let out a growl as he took in the sight of your wet pussy, his fingers sliding over your wet folds.

"Oh shit, jus' look at how fuckin' wet ya are," he mumbled. "Ya really wan' it, don't ya? Since when, huh?"

You let out a gasp as Daryl's fingers found your clit. "Who knows?" You moaned quietly. "Maybe I did want you to fuck me all along."

Daryl didn't respond right away; instead, he continued to tease you with his fingers. "Good t'know," he finally said. "First, I wanna taste ya. I wanna feel that sweet lil' pussy against my tongue. But don't ya worry. I promise it'll be worth the risk."

With that, Daryl got onto his knees, with his head between your legs, his tongue moving out to make contact with your swollen, aching clit from behind, licking it and sucking at your folds, his tongue moving slowly on purpose.

"Oh fuck, Dixon," you moaned quietly again, your legs starting to tremble a little. "Right there. Yes..."

"Fuck, ya look so sexy like this," Daryl said and kept licking and sucking before sliding two fingers deep inside to pump them in and out of you a few times. "Ya taste so fuckin' good," he continued. "Could eat ya out all day an' night. But I wanna feel ya cum all over my cock next. Hell, I love how yer pussy looks when 's all wet an' ready for me," he mumbled, sliding his fingers out of you again.

You gasped softly, your hips bucking back, trying to meet his hand and face once more. "Hell, just... I need more," you pleaded, your voice shaking while you tried not to tremble too hard.

"Jus' wanted to make sure that yer wet an' ready for me 'fore I give ya what ya want," he said, gripping and stroking his hard, leaking cock.

"Dixon," you begged with a whimper. "Just fuck me already, okay?"

Daryl smirked, clearly unable to resist your begging any longer. "Alright, sweetheart," he answered, positioning himself between your legs before slowly pushing his cock inside you from behind. "I'm gonna make ya feel so fuckin' good, girl."

You let out a gasp again as his cock pressed up against your dripping wet pussy, tormenting you with the tip for several long moments, then sliding the thick, hard shaft of it back and forth over your wet folds, before he filled you up completely, his thickness stretching your pussy walls deliciously. "Jus' take it. Take every single inch of my cock deep inside ya."

You obliged eagerly, pushing back and pulling him even deeper inside you with each passing thrust, trying not to groan out loud at the feeling of being stretched and stuffed so deeply.

"Oh fuck, ya feel so damn good," he said, his fingers digging into your hips as he started to pound away at your pussy with a little bit more force. "Shit, I could fuck ya all the damn time an' never get tired of it."

"Oh, fuck yes!" You groaned in response as Daryl continued to thrust in and out of you.

As he soon fucked you harder and deeper, you could feel your orgasm building up inside you, threatening you to make you scream out loud.

"I'm so fucking close already," you panted as you held onto the edges of the front desk for dear life. "Please... don't stop! Don't fucking stop!"

"Oh shit," you moaned and whimpered as he continued to fuck you. "Harder, please, harder."

And Daryl didn't disappoint you. He fucked you hard, his cock pounding in and out of your pussy in quick, rapid thrusts.

"Ya wanted this, didn't ya?" He growled out. "Ya wanted me to fuck ya like this."

You nodded eagerly. "Yeah, shit, I did… I do!"

"Ain't gonna stop until I've made ya cum all over my cock, sweetheart," he said, increasing the speed, which immediately brought you to the edge like you've never experienced before.

"I'm cumming! Oh fuck, I'm cumming!" You whimpered, your entire body tensing up, and just as you thought, your orgasm exploded through you like a bomb, your pussy clenching around him, gripping his cock as if not wanting to let go. But Daryl didn't stop, even after you've finished.

And just as you were coming down from your orgasm, he suddenly pulled out, his breathing ragged. "I’m 'bout to cum," he groaned, wanting to finish himself off, and started to stroke his cock, ready to let go, but then you acted on instinct. You couldn't just let him finish without you, not like this.

Quickly, you dropped to your knees and took his cock back into your mouth, sucking him hard just as he began to cum, brushing your teeth ever so lightly over the throbbing shaft. Daryl let out a deep moan, surprise and shock written all over his face as he found himself clearly unable to resist.

You sucked his cock hard, moving your tongue around the tip before taking him as deep as you could. His hands immediately found your hair, urging you on, and you responded by increasing the pressure of your lips. "Oh fuck, jus' like that," he groaned, losing himself in the feeling of your mouth.

"Jus' a lil' more," he urged, his voice trembling, but you wanted to draw it out. You picked up your pace, pulling back fast just to tease him before taking him deep into your mouth again. You could feel his cock throb and pulse against your tongue, and you knew he couldn't hold back any longer.

Finally, he lost it. "I can’t—oh fuck!" He tried to keep his groans quiet as he began to cum, his warm load filling your mouth as you swallowed down every drop, refusing to simply let him cum all over you like he'd wanted to.

Once he was finished, you pulled away, but not before licking his shaft from the base to the tip once more and looking up at him with a smirk.

"Shit, ya really are one hell of a distraction," he mumbled, catching his breath and slipping his cock back into his pants with trembling hands.

You stood up, pulling your clothes back on as you caught Daryl’s eye. He suddenly seemed different now—annoyed, maybe? But you couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of it all.

Daryl cleared his throat, straightening up and sitting down on the desk with a serious look on his slightly red face, while also trying to adjust his still half-hard cock in his pants. "This was a one-time thing. Got it?"

"Sure, just a one-time thing, Mr. Dixon," you replied innocently, but you couldn’t resist adding, "I mean, it’s not like I’ll ever forget a one-time lesson like this while having something as ridiculous as detention... but I bet reading Divided Loyalties won't be a one-time thing, isn't that right?"

He narrowed his eyes at you. "Yer such a damn troublemaker." Daryl shot back, crossing his arms over his chest as if he could shield himself.

You sat down on the edge of the front desk as well, pushing your luck further. "Maybe I really am. How else could I have gotten you to break the rules?" You bit your lip, watching the way his jaw tightened.

"Ain't 'bout that. Ya really need to get yer shit together, or I’ll have to start disciplinin' ya for real," he warned, but the look in his eyes betrayed him, showing you he was still fighting with the thoughts about what you both just did.

You couldn’t help but laugh all over again, rolling your eyes playfully. "You disciplining me? That’d just make me want to misbehave more. Besides, who would ever believe you? The hot substitute who gives other collegians detention and an extra special lesson? Sounds like something you only find in certain writings, if you ask me. So, don't shit your pants about it."

"This ain't a joke. I may not be a real teacher yet, but I have to follow the damn rules."

"Sure, but isn’t it fun to break the rules once in a while?" You asked to provoke him and leaned in. "Let’s be honest, Dixon. This was way more exciting than any discussion about Divided Loyalties."

His breath hitched, and for a short moment you could see the real man beneath again. But then he straightened up, shoving any emotions aside. "Get outta here. We’re done now."

"Sure… We’ll see about that." You grabbed your bag, trying to hold back a smile as you turned to leave. But just before closing the door, you glanced back over your shoulder at him. "Do not be fooled; I am but a mere troublemaker in thy class, yet my mischief will find thee again—so prepare thyself."

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: I've been late posting this entire series 😭. i explained a bit when anon asked, but i LOST my compression gloves and got a new pair relatively quick on top of my $200 medication 💔 my wallet is in shambles guys

ANYWAYS thank you all for sticking around and bearing with me!! i kiss and hug everyone!! even though i haven't responded to comments lately, i read every single one and it always makes me giggle ♥️♥️

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 5

The drive back to your university with your mom was excruciating. You hadn’t told anyone what’d happened which meant you had to keep a happy demeanor around them throughout the holidays up until now. Dread had settled in your stomach once the drive began and continued to spread the closer you got, similar to when you’re headed to the doctors or the dentist, just a million times worse.

Texting Ella and Sky had helped a surprising amount, turning the majority of your anxiety into rage. Ella was furious when she found out, so her fury, and Sky’s, quickly became yours.

They hyped you up, ready to be at your side and assist in tearing “that shitty fratfuck” to shreds. The support meant so much after everything, especially after the reality of it all set in; you’d seen the picture via snapchat from someone you didn’t know, so how many others had seen it?

Your worst fear was being seen as easy, being used like you were. But you weren’t, were you? Your friends had made sure to try and convince you otherwise, you had to give them that, yet even with the facts laid out in front of you, it was still hard to divert your thoughts away from that ever-looming self-doubt.

Seeing the campus come into view only served to solidify those thoughts and feelings. No matter what Sky and Ella had tried or are willing to do for you, it just wasn’t enough to fix what’s been done.

Your mom helped you bring your suitcase up to your dorm, giving you a tight hug and a kiss on the temple before saying goodbye and heading on her way. Playing okay around your family all winter break was exhausting, so you just chose to sit in silence on your bed instead of unpacking your stuff. Always prepared, you wanted to get here a few days early, using unpacking and settling back in as an excuse, when really you just needed time to collect yourself before the inevitable happened.

He was here, and you were sure he’d seek you out eventually once he spotted you, or maybe when one his friends did and the word made its way back to him. Whichever way it happened, you knew it’d be unfavorable. 

“Hey,” Ella’s voice from the doorway caught your attention, “you look miserable..” How hadn’t you heard the door open? 

“I am miserable, but uh.. let’s just pretend I’m not, okay?” You replied, barely cracking a smile as you glanced up at her. 

She gave you a weak laugh in return, letting the door close as she slowly sauntered over to you, plopping down right next to you on the edge of the bed. “Fine, yeah. You haven’t shown me your schedule yet, by the way.”

“Oh, right-” you paused to reach over and grab your bag, rifling through the various papers in there until finally pulling out the schedule you printed out a couple weeks back. “It’s mostly the classes that aren’t fun.” You stopped to look at your schedule for a brief moment before passing the paper over to Ella, who quickly snatched it from your hand.

She squinted dramatically, holding the paper only a couple inches away from her face. “Yeaaah, these aren’t the best. At least it looks like you’ll have the majority of your pre-reqs out of the way for next year though.” Her observation made you chuckle with a nod.

“Which is what I’m trying to do. Work myself to the bone now, chill out later.” 

“Don’t kill yourself trying to do everything in one fell swoop.”

“I promise I won’t Ella, this is just how I-” A knock on the door drew both yours and Ella’s attention away from each other, an immediate scowl settling on her face. You wanted to ask, but it seems she already knew what you were going to say, quickly shushing you in a hushed voice, “Sky won’t be here until tomorrow night. Don’t answer that.”

You paused, thought for a moment, then nodded once with pursed lips. Ella was a pretty serious person, the mom of the group you could say, so when she pulled that tone, you knew better than to test it. Besides, you didn’t want to see who or what was on the other side of the door, you needed more time.

The next day was a little better, if uneventful. You finally brought yourself to unpack your suitcase, a chance to reorganize everything since you’d gotten a few new things over the holidays. Ella stuck close, bringing food up and into your dorm to take advantage of the empty mini fridge while the two of you binge watched a few random movies.

You stayed cozied up in your bed, having already mapped out and memorized your walking path for each class; longer, less foot traffic to and from. All you had to do was get through the rest of this year, that’s all. Little extra walking never hurt anyone, right?

When classes actually started, the long and complicated walks actually worked for a time; no one gave you strange looks, no one tried to talk to you, and it was pretty quiet. Scenic. But everyone knows everything good must come to an end eventually, and of course it had to be when you were just starting to forget all of this mess.

He caught you between classes. Scenic walks backfired massively when you realized there wasn’t anyone else around on that part of campus. Guess you didn’t think this one all the way through.

You couldn’t help but notice he looked pretty roughed up, sporting a few bruises along his cheekbone, a split lip, and a healing black eye. Seems he’s been busy over winter break.

“Listen, please listen-” Leon pleaded, holding his hands out in a weak attempt to trap you in the hallway. All this did was make you even more uncomfortable. “I know what I did was wrong, but I was not the one who sent that picture around, I swear.” You just stood in place after a few tries to get around him, giving him an almost bored stare. He didn’t really expect to finally catch you, so he stumbled over his words as he continued to ramble.

“I-.. I’m so, so sorry for doing that to you,” he slowly lowered his hands back down to his sides once he was sure you’d stay to listen, “I know that what I did was terrible, and I mean it when I say that I am sorry. I wish there was a way to turn back time and undo it, but I can't. I can't even explain why I did it in the first place, but that's not an excuse. I just- I messed up big time and I was- am stupid for letting it happen.”

To you this seemed sincere, but you really couldn’t be sure and it was safe to assume it wasn’t. Leon managed to trick you for months, who’s to say this wasn’t a trick as well? 

Your look turned skeptical, crossing your arms tightly against your chest with a shaky breath. Despite handling this better than you thought you would, it was still nerve wracking having this kind of talk.

“I'm not good at this, but I'm more than willing to do whatever it takes to make things right, if that's even possible..” Leon breathed out, panting as he tried to catch his breath after talking so fast. “I managed to uh-.. to find everyone who had the picture and I made them delete it.”

“I made them delete the picture.” He repeated, taking another moment to breathe before suddenly looking down to yank something out of his pocket. “I-I got your uh-.. these-” 

Seeing him hold up your panties so casually made you gasp, immediately looking around the hallway to make sure it was still empty before shooting him a glare, whispering a harsh “Put them back! Put them back!” which made him scramble to hide them in his pocket again. 

“Right- right, sorry! Sorry…” Leon was sweating at this point, growing increasingly anxious under your gaze. He didn’t want to mess this up any further, but man he was doing a pretty shitty job at that right now.

His hands were shoved into his pockets as well, both of you blushing with embarrassment, and also shame on Leon’s part. Once he managed to slow his breathing, he started to talk again, a noticeable frown tugging at the corner of his lips. “You don’t.. have to forgive me or anything, I just wanted to make sure you knew that hardly anyone knows and-” His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed dryly, turning his head to the side to look at the wall, “.. and that I’m sorry. I really do like you, I guess I just took a little too long to realize it…”

You made another quick glance over your shoulder before looking back at the man trembling in front of you who was still avoiding your gaze. You wanted to hate him so bad, so bad, but it was hard when all you could see was the Leon who was so sweet, the Leon who let you cry to him when the weight of the world was on your shoulders and made you feel so wanted and loved.

“Can we-” you cleared your throat and pulled the strap of your backpack further up onto your shoulder, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet. “Can we talk later, maybe? Like, in my dorm? I don’t want anyone overhearing any of this..”

Leon perked up when he heard you talk, pulling his hands from his pockets to nervously rake his fingers through his hair, which was now partially damp from the sweat beading off his forehead. “Oh- OH! Yeah, of- of course, yeah, I’m sorry I didn’t- I just needed to-”

You waved your hands in front of your chest, shutting him up so he didn’t spill any further. "And throw those away." He nodded silently, wiping a hand down his face until it settled right in front of his lips, probably knowing he was talking too much at this point. 

There was one more class you needed to go to that day, so you hurried off after telling him to wait outside your dorm until you were done, and he promised he would. Very adamantly, too. At least he held true to his words, standing in the hallway right in front of your dorm room like a lost puppy when you turned the corner. It was cute for a second, though annoyance quickly replaced that feeling as you walked over and let him in.

You weren’t exactly ready to have a full blown talk, but then again, no one ever was. What made it easier was your roommate never returned that semester, assuming she dropped out, so you basically had the whole dorm to yourself for the rest of the year. Or until someone had a roommate issue and needed a change. Didn’t really matter to you at that point.

There was really only one thing on your mind and that was getting Leon to explain this whole ordeal to you. You needed detail, clarification, anything to help you understand what’d been going on behind your back during that time. And he did, telling you just about everything he could; who suggested the bet, who roped him into the idea, the second guessings he had since the start, how he could’ve done literally anything else to avoid the way it all played out, everything.

Obviously you couldn’t just forgive him like that, even though he kept telling you how sorry he was and how terrible he felt about it. You wanted to forgive him, but you weren’t ready, and he understood that. He would’ve been satisfied with any response you gave him, so having been given the chance to really explain and have you listen was more than enough in his eyes.

“And just so you know, my friends aren’t going to let you off the hook,” you pulled your legs up so you were sitting criss-cross on the bed, looking across at Leon who was sitting on the bed opposite of yours.

“Yeah, I know..” he chuckled awkwardly, reaching a hand back to rub at the nape of his neck. “I was honestly expecting them to jump me, but they just give me evil looks whenever they see me.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, making a mental note to question Sky and Ella about that later. “You’ll never get nice looks from them again and I won’t be vouching for you.”

Leon nodded, silence blanketing the room as you’d finally run out of things to discuss. Though it was awkward, it was nice to have him hanging around again. “Anyways,” you started, standing up from your bed slowly as you vaguely gestured towards the door, “I need to study, sooo…”

“Oh, yeah, totally, uhm..” he followed suit, standing up from the other bed before sauntering over to the door as you held it open for him. He walked out and turned around almost instantly, a small smile suddenly appearing on his face once his eyes met yours, his arms jerking upwards slightly as if to suggest a hug.

“Don’t push it.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik @animesnowstorm @lexi-zsy09 @mylifedoesntexist @ifeellikedying @yourmommylol04 @ravioli19 @dakiniii @papichulo120627

(few of your blogs won't pop up, i tried though 😩)

[harrypotterandthefandomaccount]

brushing of noses

pairing: neville longbottom x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns)

request: Hello! I'd love to order from you, Neville x female reader. Reader is Snape's goddaughter, reader's parents trust Snape a lot so they made him reader's godfather and he can watch her almost ALL the time at school. Reader and Neville become boyfriend and girlfriend (THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH), you know, reader is extremely affectionate with Neville even in public, hugging him, wanting to kiss him every so often and although it's nice to have his bubble of love, it also gives Neville some fear since he feels Snape's murderous gaze on himself every time his girlfriend wants to express her love xD Snape would be like a jealous father and Neville the son-in-law afraid that Snape would poison him

warnings: yule ball is in fifth year instead of fourth, snape being snape

note: i've been WAITING for someone to send me a neville request, he deserves all the love in the world <3

your parents trusted your uncle severus a whole lot, and part of you believed most of that trust stemmed from the fact that he works at hogwarts and is able to keep a watchful eye on you.

they, as in your parents, have never denied your suspicions, but simply respond with, "uncle severus has shown how much he cares for you, and being a professor at your school is just a bonus."

oh, it was indeed a bonus. but at times it was as if you were suffocating.

you loved neville longbottom more than anything in the world, and him, you.

ever since that god-awful professor gilderoy lockhart had unleashed pixies into the classroom and strung neville high up into the air, questioning, "why me?" neville genuinely believed that he was never going to get a break. however, that changed once he heard the incantation, "wingardian leviosa!" and he felt his body being lifted until he hit the floor.

your second-year self had rushed over to him, asking if he was alright after the fiasco. he looked up at you, eyes wide in admiration while nodding his head, "t-thank you, y/n!"

you had smiled brightly, "of course neville! now, let's give those pixies a piece of our minds, yeah?"

from then on, you and neville were two peas in a pod. he knew of you and your family, yet was never one to judge too quickly. sure, your family had power in the wizarding world, but he never heard of any ties to you-know-who or even the malfoys. maybe you were good.

and that you were.

as time went on, well into your third year, neville had learned that you were genuinely the nicest, sweetest person he had ever known. he knew you like all of his plants, and had even named one of his mallowsweet leaves after you. you had patience for him, were willing to hear him talk about herbology or his parents, or how much gran upset him whenever she said that he would never live up to their family's expectations.

as your friendship evolved, you had eventually told neville of snape's relation to you in your third year, calling him "uncle sev" as neville looked at you as though you had three heads. you wanted neville to know that professor snape just wanted to look after you, and if snape was ever mean to him, you would talk to him.

by fourth year, it was evident that you and neville longbottom were best friends - and uncle severus was not a fan. his rude comments toward neville seemed to intensify and though he wanted to say something to you, he was not one to step into family business. he had never told you about what your uncle would say, but just the glares that he would get from snape if he were around you was enough to shut his mouth.

then, by merlin, on the train to hogwarts in the beginning of your fifth year, neville had asked you to be his girlfriend. while he was unbelievably nervous because he did not want to face snape's wrath, you held his hands in a hidden corridor of the express and he calmed almost immediately. your eyes had lit up and allowed neville to hold your face between his hands, your noses lightly brushing. you had considered that your first kiss.

neville loved you with his whole heart, but sometimes he thought that you actually wanted him killed by professor snape.

you loved showing neville attention, whether it be holding his hand when walking to class, kissing his cheek at breakfast, rubbing noses in the transfiguration courtyard, or, at this present moment, kissing under the starry night of the great hall during the yule ball.

neville had asked you weeks ago when you cuddled in his bed, poster curtains giving you both privacy as he gently ran his fingers over your back. your head was on his chest as his head laid atop of yours, pressing his lips into your hair ever so gently.

"petal," he began, "i know this is probably a given, but would you like to go to the yule ball with me?"

you lifted your head, an adoring smile on your face as you lifted a hand to his cheek, "of course, handsome. i would love to."

neville blushed and pulled you closer, his free hand catching your cheek as you both leaned in, lips meeting in a soft kiss. with a rub of your noses as you both pulled away, you gave a soft laugh, "I'm going to blow your socks off, longbottom."

neville brushed some hair out of your eyes, "you do everyday, petal."

you were right, of course. your dress had simply blown neville away and he was rendered speechless when you had walked down the stairs. you met your boyfriend at the bottom of the staircase, "where are your socks?"

neville chuckled, dipping his head as he grabbed your hand, "off somewhere in the world, i suppose, dove. I'm not sure that I'm ready to show you off to the school, you uncle especially."

you blushed, brushing your nose with his, "I'm only focused on you, nev. plus, my uncle can shove it tonight. now c'mon, i wanna dance with you."

the ball was spectacular, and it was an experience to be within a huge group of students dancing together as music played beautifully in the background. however, through the night, a slow dance was needed, and though neville hadn't seen your uncle severus yet, he was still nervous to put his hands on your waist.

you had looked up at him, settling his nerves immediately. with a small smile, you wrapped both arms around his neck, "just me and you, handsome."

he grasped onto your waist, breathing a bit steadier, "just us, petal." neville leaned down, capturing your lips in a kiss as you sighed, relaxing into him. he had that effect on you, calming you and just allowing you to feel him.

he pulled away, admiration clear in his eyes, "i love you, flower. with all my being."

tears found themselves at your waterline as you smiled at him, holding his cheek in your hand, "and i love you, nev. more than you could ever know."

soon enough, the song ended and you had excused yourself to the bathroom, kissing neville's cheek before you left. he watched you go from one of the pillars, eyes following your figure as far as he could just to see you.

that was until one professor severus snape stepped into his view.

neville let out a yelp, taking a step back and meeting the cold stone of the pillar. severus towered over him and his eyes were the most unkind he had ever seen.

"pr-professor snape, didn't see you there! enjoying the ball?" neville asked, voice full of nerves as he prepared himself for his untimely death.

snape almost growled at neville as he whimpered, "don't play coy with me, longbottom. who do you think you are, kissing my goddaughter like that? did you poison her with amortentia? I'll have you found out, longbottom, and torture you until you are deemed worthy of mercy."

neville stopped shaking, his fear turning into...anger? he furrowed his brows, "amortentia, sir? you really think i would do that to someone as, as beautiful, as kind, as loving as y/n? no, sir, respectfully, you have it all wrong."

snape glared, "watch your words, longbottom."

"no, sir - i think you better watch yours," neville began, "i love your goddaughter, and i am doing everything in my power to keep her safe, to protect her from this world, and she has shown me what it is like to love so strongly, that it hurts. she is my world, professor snape, and while i am deathly afraid of you, she is worth it. so, in the words of my girlfriend, shove it."

both men hadn't realized it, but you were back from the bathroom, directly behind your uncle as neville had confessed everything to snape. your breath hitched, and snape turned around, eyes meeting yours as a smile appeared on your face. snape glanced at neville, the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face, before he turned and kissed your forehead. then, he was off.

you immediately pranced onto neville, kissing him with all the love you could muster. your heart was full, as was his, and neville couldn't stop his heart from beating so fast. neville pulled away, letting you breathe as you laid your hands on his chest.

you played with the buttons on his suit, "he wasn't too mean, was he?"

neville shook his head, "nothing i couldn't handle, flower. all for you."

with a small nod, you looked at neville, "just give him time, you'll grow on him. with the way you put him in his place, seems like you've already proven yourself. not that you need to, nev, uncle sev is just-"

neville rubbed his nose with yours, "i know what you meant, petal. i just hope i didn't overstep and he poisons me tomorrow morning."

you giggled, "oh, my love. you did exactly what he wanted you to do."

neville cupped your cheek, "you're my world, petal. you know that?"

with a smile, you leaned into his hand, "and you're mine, nev. forever and always."

[seriouslysnape]

hello! can i get a severus lazy sunday morning with the reader? 🖤

Severus Snape x Fem! Reader Tags: None. Word Count: 1.1k "You can stay right here. I'll call you when it's ready."

It was the pattering of rain on the roof that initially woke Severus up. It drummed on the house and sprinkled across the windows. The trees outside rustled from the wind that whistled outside. He let out a slow exhale at the sound of the low rumbles of thunder rolling off in the distance.

Three days of solid rain was more than enough, and frankly, he was missing the sunshine. Nonetheless, there wasn't a thing he could do about the weather, so he supposed that griping about it wouldn't do him any good.

After all, it was hard to complain when there was a beautiful woman curled up next to him.

Severus was a bit of a stirrer in the mornings. He wasn't typically one to lounge around in bed, typically getting up and on his feet the moment that his eyes opened. But you, on the other hand, liked to gradually wake up instead of getting a fast start to your day. If there wasn't an immediate reason to get up, then you were more than likely going to stay snuggled in for a little while.

With that being said, he tried to keep his movements to a minimum to avoid waking you. He could bear staying wrapped up in the sheets if it meant you getting some extra rest. He was perfectly content with holding you close and watching the weather rage on outside through the window.

Unfortunately, he couldn't control the volume and intensity of the thunder that accompanied the rain. One booming crack of thunder spooked you awake with a hard flinch and a light gasp. The sudden reaction even made Severus jump a bit, his arms holding you tighter as a gesture of protection.

"It's all right," He nuzzled his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss just above the tip of your ear. "You're safe. It's just a storm."

His morning voice always sent a chill down your back. It was deeper than usual, groggy and sluggish. You relaxed at the sound of it, releasing a relieved sigh when you realized that your house wasn't being attacked by some outside force.

"Mm. Still raining I assume?" Your eyes fluttered closed again in an attempt to slow the hard thumping of your heart.

"Unfortunately." He grumbled, his focus on you instead of the storm.

"It's not all bad. I've had you all to myself for three days straight." You giggled, the sound of your laugh spreading a warmth over his chest.

"Darling, has there ever been a time where you didn't?" He answered.

He pushed some fallen strands of hair out of your eyes, a small smile appearing on his features as he admired your calm expression.

"Generally, no. But sometimes the duties of being a professor steals you away."

He couldn't deny that. Just being a professor could be overly demanding -- adding in being the head of Slytherin and some occasional administrative responsibilities could most definitely dry up the well of his free time.

Before he met you, he spent pretty much every night at the school in his personal chambers. He didn't see the need in traveling home every night (as easy and convenient as it might've been) if he had no real reason to. He spent all of his time at Hogwarts from September to June.

But after meeting you and having the pleasure and blessing of your lives intertwining, he had to learn how to balance his work life and personal life. Now, he traveled home almost every single night, unless he just couldn't get away from his office and/or classroom.

He did everything that he could to ensure that you were his top priority...although, sometimes he still fell short.

"We still have well over a month before the term starts," He remarked. "Plenty of time before my schedule gets overly full."

"What's on your schedule until then?" You asked, eyes opening just enough to peer up at him.

He let out a low chuckle when he kissed your temple, the vibrations running down your side and causing a brief tingle in your toes. He exhaled a satisfied hum when one of your legs settled between his.

"You."

Another roll of thunder rumbled, yet not quite as vigorous this time. You smiled at him, which caused a tint of a blush to appear on his cheek.

"Doesn't sound too busy then." You ran your index finger's knuckle across the apple of his cheek with a feather-like touch.

"Just the way I like it." He smirked.

A round of silence followed. The two of you were just enjoying each other's presence and taking advantage of the fact that you had absolutely nothing to do...not to mention having a great excuse not to come up with something to occupy your time.

The rain was relentless after all. Who in their right mind would want to go out in this kind of weather? It was a perfect setup for a day inside.

There were plenty of things to do around the house. The only problem was that you had already been doing them for three days now.

You could only take a crack at raiding and reading your entire library for so long. The house was spotless and lemony fresh, so cleaning was crossed off your list. You were looking forward to trying a new recipe for dinner, but you assumed that you still had an entire day to get through first.

"What time is it?" You asked, realizing that it could've been noon for all you knew.

Severus raised his head just enough to peek over you to get a glimpse of the alarm clock on the bedside table on your side.

"6:47." He answered.

"Oh, that is so early," You gawked. "I'm too awake to go back to sleep though."

"Shall I make us some breakfast then?" He suggested. "You can stay right here. I'll call you when it's ready."

"Pancakes? Coffee?" You asked, a glittering admiration for the man talking sweet to you shining over your face.

"Of course," He nodded. "Whatever you want, angel."

He peppered kisses across your nose and down your neck, bubbly giggles and squeaks sounding out from your chest. You managed to squeal out an "I love you" through laughter and shrills.

He couldn't understand how someone like you could love him so much. He liked to think that he had done something in his life to deserve some like you. But in reality, he knew that he was just plain lucky.

"I love you," He returned the endearment before whipping the covers off of the bed, ignoring your hiss of disapproval. "Pancakes are on the way."

Once he was on his feet, he pulled the covers back over you, chuckling at the way you shimmied further down with a gleeful whimper. He pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving to whip up the best stack of pancakes you had ever tasted.

"Enjoy the rain, my love."

[megwritesriddles]

Hi, could you write a headcanon/drabble for Snape with a vampire s/o? Maybe because of some new laws, they aren't allowed to work at the ministry anymore and Dumbledore takes them in as a professor due to their knowledge and they get fixated on Snape because he's showing a cold shoulder (or whatever reason fits lol)?

It's my first time requesting something and I'm just in an extreme Vampire Diaries/Harry Potter phase rn, sorry if it sounds weird :'D

hii! thanks for ur request!! you didn't specify smut so I am gonna stay away from it just in case (though if you've ever read my stuff before you're probably cool with smut lol)

I wanna preface that I've never seen the Vampire Diaries so my vampire lore will be different than in the show but I hope you still like it!! also the political situation for vampires is maybe too real rn sorry

word count: 1.7k words

warning: brief discussions of blood, systematic racism against vampires?

all fandom masterlist | hp masterlist

At first it's a bit of an adjustment, you never really saw yourself being a teacher, but with the new Minister of Magic being who he was, this was the best job you could get.

You have to keep your identity as a vampire a secret, which is hard considering what you look like.

You're very grateful, really, even if the students all make fun of your long black clothing and overall dark aesthetic.

That's what made you notice Severus at first, he dressed a lot like you.

Long dark robes, pale skin, long dark hair, it was all very vampire.

You had asked Dumbledore if he was also a vampire, but he'd said no. You weren't quite convinced.

You always bumped into him at night, as a vampire, you didn't have to sleep so you would roam the halls in the moonlight, looking for something to do.

You seemed to bump into him every other night, gliding about the halls in his elegant robes.

He would nod at you and keep on walking, being terse but polite if you tried to engage him in conversation.

It bummed you out a little that he didn't seem to want to speak to you, as you wanted desperately to know more about him, feeling like he was in some way a kindred spirit.

The ministry cut funding to vampire support programs, meaning you were without your appetite suppressants.

It seemed backwards, hate vampires because they're 'dangerous' then make them even more potentially dangerous.

You feed on various small animals for a while until it becomes unsustainable.

When you come to him, the master potioneer, for help, you expect to be sent away.

Instead he is outraged on your behalf, muttering about the state of the ministry as he gathers up the ingredients to make your suppressants.

But it turns out he really isn't a vampire, to your surprise.

With a little convincing he agrees to make big batches so they can be sent out to other vampires too.

You start to spend much more time together as you help him brew and otherwise continually find yourself trying to repay him for what he's doing for you, despite him never asking for anything in return.

You bring him coffee and pastries, gorgeous blackbird feather quills, top-ups for his personal potion ingredient supply.

Yet he still seems tense around you, like he can't relax and he doesn't want you around, despite being polite.

It hurts, but you continue being kind and helpful, you owe him a lot after all.

You wish you understood why he disliked you, at first you thought it might be prejudice, but he has proven that isn't the case.

Every morning, like clockwork, a vial of suppressant appears on the windowsill of your quarters, delivered by one of the school owls.

On the morning of February 14th, an owl arrives with your suppressant, but also a dark red rose clutched carefully in it's talons, which it insists on dropping into your hand rather than onto the windowsill.

Severus has sent you a rose, on Valentine's day.

When you finally find him to ask him about it, he admits to being enchanted with you, but not really knowing how to act around you because of it.

Despite his nerves and apprehension, you begin a secret relationship (you don't want the students finding out).

You look like quite the couple as you walk around Hogsmeade arm in arm, him holding your black lace parasol to shield you from the sun, both in dark billowing robes.

You spend nights sat by the windowsill, reading your respective books in blissful silence.

Your limited ability to go outside during the summer months is hardly an issue for him, happy to stay home with you.

He often asks you to turn him into a vampire with you, but you refuse, knowing the ostracism he would face.

You agree that perhaps one day, in lieu of a traditional marriage, you will turn him so you can remain young together forever.

But it's a serious commitment so you want to wait, and he promises that he will wait as long as it takes.

He would probably fantasise about you biting his neck (that's as much as I'll say about that)

He will often sit and trace your face, describing your beauty to you as you can't see yourself in a reflection.

Then you will return the favour, even though he could easily go look for himself, yet he enjoys your kind words greatly, the handsomeness you describe not being what he sees in the mirror.

He is now a firm vampire advocate, harshly correcting students who express backwards opinions or pushing Dumbledore to demand changes in the ministry that might help you.

There is no doubt in his mind that he will one day be a vampire too and after a few years together, you finally turn him, binding your blood forever.

Not much changes in his life from being a vampire, only a life-long commitment to you is new.

But in his opinion, it is a great change.

ཐི ❤︎ ཋྀ

hey you! want to get tagged in my work when it comes out? click here! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[olderthannetfic]

I know about the origins of the Bechdel Test, but I do think it's inaccurate to say it's not meant as a criticism of movies that don't do that. I think that when people stop thinking in binary terms of "is this feminist?" or "is this anti-feminist?" and instead look at things more holistically, that you can recognize both that a character like Mako Mori is great, a step in the right direction for female characters in action movies and especially WOC, go forth and stan her and write all the fanfic you want.... but yeah, it is also a valid criticism of the movie (and many others like it) that she doesn't talk to or have relationships with any other woman in the film.

I think one thing to help people realize just HOW much of women's lives are being left out of media representation when we never talk to other named women about something other than a man in movies, is to just think about your own life. I talk to my mom every day, and if we are not talking about my stepdad or my brother-in-law (and I don't think we've ever had a conversation that wasn't at least IN PART not about them or another man), then it passes the test. I'm a professor and when I talk to a female student about her homework or project (which is, again, something that happens pretty much every day I teach), that's passing the test. If I order food from a female cashier and she has a name tag, that's passing the Bechdel Test! It's literally just constant for the vast majority of women on the planet, and that's what's being left out of our stories.

Like, I like the takes I've seen about how part of the joke in Dykes to Watch Out For is that this is *particularly* alienating to lesbians - as a lesbian myself I agree - but I also think it should be frustrating to straight and bi and ace women as well, because like unless you are like exclusively interacting with your husband or male relatives every single day + you work in a workplace where you are literally the only woman, you are almost certainly passing the test constantly. That's a pretty big part of women's lives that Hollywood is leaving out!

But I think it's important to view it as just one piece of the discussion about feminism and women's representation in film, not the final judge on if a film is feminist or not. Which it wasn't intended to be - as you said, it was mostly a joke on the extreme maleness of 80s action movies. Honestly, I do not miss those days on Tumblr where people were obsessed with declaring certain movies/TV shows/other fandoms they liked as "feminist" or "anti-feminist" and the really bizarre granular discussions people would have between two works that BOTH had a long way to go in terms of representing women. I remember people in the Fullmetal Alchemist fandom would use this to argue about if the original anime or Brotherhood/the manga was better - when both have some fantastic female supporting characters, but are ultimately male-centered stories where even a lot of those women's lives and stories are centered around their male love interests and family members. It's better than a lot of shounen, but if that's your bar for feminism - either version - you have a long way to go (and need to watch WAY more anime because there's sooooo much of it that is female-centric). I also remember people coming up with other tests that were blatantly silly: like I thought the Mako Mori test about "if a woman has a motivation/story that isn't centered on a man" was fair because it did point out a legitimate criticism, but there was that ridiculous "Tauriel Test" where it was "a woman who is good at her job." And it was entirely about someone just disliking that movie critics and feminist commentators alike were down on the Hobbit movie trilogy, which a) were bad movies, sorry you have bad taste, b) are absolutely not where you should focus your attention if you're so concerned about women's representation in film, Tolkein has always been a sausage fest! And her big thing was being mad that people thought Judi Dench's M in Skyfall was a better female character, and so she arbitrarily decided she was "bad at her job" and Tauriel was "good at her job" even though that's completely subjective and can be challenged in both cases.... but also, once again, why are you looking to the fucking JAMES BOND franchise for movie feminism! There's nothing like comparing the relative "feminism levels" of JAMES BOND and LOTR to make it obvious that this is 100% about validating your subjective taste preferences by giving it a "progressive" excuse, not actually about feminism and not actually caring about women's representation beyond how it makes you look good. And yet SO many people took that transparently stupid post seriously. I'd see professional articles mention the Tauriel Test as "one of the new tests" like there was anything serious about it.

And then on the flip side, over-reliance on the Bechdel Test alone led to some clueless conclusions especially in anime fandom, given that anime has an abundance of shows that exclusively feature female characters in school clubs being cute, where those characters are nonetheless two-dimensional archetypes designed for the male gaze. Someone like fandomsandfeminism did a presentation at an anime con that called one of those types of shows "feminist" and some Japanese user eviscerated it, but that just led to the equally shallow fandom analysis of "everything a Japanese person says about anime is automatically more valid" and "any Westerner who wants to criticize anime on feminist/progressive grounds is culturally appropriating and ultimately coming from a place of ignorance, even if they literally have a degree in Asian studies."

Wow, this turned into a rant about the history of bad "feminist media criticism" on this website. Sorry about that, I think I had a point in here somewhere. I guess that the Bechdel Test is indeed a joke and those origins should be understood, but also, I don't think it's wrong to say that it identifies a real problem and one that people could probably take MORE seriously than they do - but as just one part of the conversation, not the Feminism Litmus Test, and certainly not as a dick-measuring contest about whose fandom gets them more progressive brownie points.

--

I think as long as we grasp that the joke is "The bar is so far under the ground that we might as well go home and eat popcorn there", it's fine.

The real issue with the test is that people started thinking a pass was meaningful.

If you say something like "X% of 2020s movies can't even manage this weaksauce level of women existing", that's a meaningful statistic. Even if you got a couple of data points wrong, you're not factually wrong enough for it to matter because X is going to be some massive, massive percentage, and the overall trend is so clear.

But a pass is nothing to celebrate, and that's where we went wrong.

Like you say, litigating which of two big franchises that barely do anything with women wins on tumblr points is idiocy.

I think people are so unaware of what media that genuinely centers women even looks like that it's hard for them to even begin having a discussion.

I personally have been a massive fujoshi type from adolescence, and media that centers female characters isn't actually what I typically want. (Though media that is by and for women and that doesn't give a fuck what men think of this is.) I am also not much of a fan of slice of life in general...

But when I was coming out and figuring my shit out, being able to go buy collections of Dykes to Watch Out For was incredibly valuable to me.

Ditto the other lesbian comic books that were just sitting there in the bookstore. I'm sure if I went back and reread them all now, I could find things to nitpick or ways they were more for lesbians and less for me as a bi girl, but the really distinctive thing they did was let me exist in a world where media isn't all 80s sausagefest action movies where women are not people.

In fact, they were a world where men don't matter terribly much—not because they're dramatically rejecting men in some facile and reactionary way but because... who cares? They just had other priorities... and this was normal.

It feels like people who've never taken a vacation from really mainstream media just have no concept of what it would feel like to exist in some other space.

And I think that's a pity even if, like me, they later choose to go read mostly BL later instead of focusing on female characters or they genuinely love trash 80s action movies despite everything wrong with them. It's not just sexist media that's the issue: it's that feeling like the fish can't see the water it's swimming in.

[attention-k-mart-shoppers]

Touch-Tone Telephone is Dib-coded

For context:

Dib Membrane is a character from Invader Zim. He is the only human in the entire Skool who knows Zim is an alien. He often claims himself to be a paranormal investigator, but nobody ever believes his theories, even with proof, especially his theory that aliens are real.

(to know more about Dib, you can watch Invader Zim on Paramount+ if you have a subscription)

Now, let's get to the main post

Before you read, just know that i've never done one of these analysis posts before, so it's a little rough

"I think it's time for you to know the awful truth

Mm, the truth about me, and the truth about you"

This lyric reminds me of Dib standing up in front of the class and talking about his theories, specifically the first episode when he first meets Zim and tries to prove to the class that he's an alien (which nobody believes, of course)

"'Cause you're a brand-new species

Big cat (oh-oh), space [people], Robert Stack (oh, oh)

God-damn it, gonna snap, Leonard Nimoy (oh, oh-oh-oh-oh)

Call me back (call me back)"

In the original song, this is the singer talking indirectly to his idols (i forgot who they were specifically). This reminded me a bit of how Dib always tries to get on Mysterious Mysteries, his favorite TV show, but the people behind the show never believe the truths in front of their eyes, but only the silliest stuff, for example, a man in a chicken costume was believed to be a chicken-human hybrid just because the zipper got stuck and he couldn't get out of the costume

"I try to call you every day

I'm rehearsing what to say when the truth comes out (of my very own mouth)

I've been working on a unified theory

If I make it through tonight, everybody's gonna hear me out"

'Cause I'm the right one

On my touch-tone, touch-tone telephone

I'm the only one

On your AM, AM radio

Oh, I'm crying now, authentic tears

They flow out of me when I think about you

'Cause you're the only person in the world who'd understand

'Cause you're the only person in the world who'd understand the meaning of this

Oh my god

I try, and I try, and I try to make you listen to me"

All the highlighted stuff here is once again probably about Mysterious Mysteries

"I try to call you every day

I'm rehearsing what to say when the truth comes out (of my very own mouth)

I've been working on a unified theory

If I make it through tonight, everybody's gonna hear me out

'Cause I'm the right one

On my touch-tone, touch-tone telephone

I'm the only one (hey)

On your AM, AM radio"

"Don't hang up yet, I'm not done"

The people behind Mysterious Mysteries often hang up on Dib when he tries to tell them about things that they deem nonsensical

"I'm an expert, I'm the one

The one who was right all along

Better to be laughed at than wrong"

Dib often gets made fun of at school, behind the scenes of Mysterious Mysteries, and even by his own dad for his theories, but he never gives up

"I'm an expert in my field

UFOlogy, yes, it's all real

Ancient aliens, it's all true

I'm an expert just like you

And like you, I'm a genius before my time"

I watched a Touch-Tone Telephone animation with Dib a while ago, and during the lyric highlighted here, it showed a poster of Dib's dad, Professor Membrane, who's a world-famous scientist who always tells Dib that he should study "real science" just like he does, instead of studying aliens and other things. I like the theory that Dib is indirectly talking to Professor Membrane here about how he'll become famous one day just like his father

"Disbelieving, that's the real crime

Pretty soon, they'll discover me

In the Super-Sargasso Sea

I try to call you every day

What can I say when the truth comes out? (Of my very own mouth)

I've been working on a unified theory

If I make it through tonight, everybody's gonna hear me out (now)

'Cause I'm the right one (now) on my touch-tone telephone (now)

On my touch-tone, touch-tone telephone

I'm the only one on your AM radio

(On your AM, AM radio)"

Thanks for reading! I was very excited to write this since I love Touch-Tone Telephone and relate to Dib a lot.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for calling my (24m) brother (20m) out for a bad habit he's sensitive about?

To preface, this isn't that dramatic of a story. We've always had a good relationship, and still do. Nothing in this story has affected that, and hopefully it stays that way. He's a good guy, and always means well.

But he is a huge, HUGE know-it-all. In almost every conversation he *has* to be the expert. He'll lecture my mom on how to cook, telling her stuff like what the best spices are and tells her how she could improve her technique. When we play games together, he'll always tell me what I should be doing and when to do it. He's a philosophy major, so if you EVER get into a disagreement with him he'll bring up Deleutze or Aristotle or some bizzare thought experiment, always using it to justify himself and admonish you. I'm a full time professional programmer, and he'll lecture *me* about software and do the classic elitist "why are you using x instead of the obviously superior y?"

I could really go on for a LONG time, because this is a constant with him. He can't go 20 minutes without "helpful corrections". I sometimes poke fun at him if I can get a harmless jab in, calling him "professor" or something. It irritates him a lot, but we're brothers, so of course we get on each other's nerves. He annoys me, so I annoy him.

A recent breaking point was when I was drinking this horrible tasting laxative stuff because I was constipated (somewhat embarassing to admit in a public post, but here we are). He began telling me how if I just chugged it, it would be easier. I told him that no, actually, chugging it would make me barf.

Instead of letting it go, he just couldn't. He almost turned it into suffering olympics. "I don't know why you won't listen to me. Do you even know how often I've had to drink that? If you've done it as much as I have, you'd know what I mean."

He said that to me; his brother with severe gastrointestinal disease, who had 5 colonoscopies by the time I was his age. I've drank literal gallons of this exact stuff, and he knows that. I snapped at him more than I probably ever have before. I told him that, actually, it's possible for OTHER people to know better than him, and sometimes he should just learn when to shut up and let people do it their way instead of his way.

He did NOT take it well, but he didn't get mad. I kinda wish he did, because instead he got REALLY sad. Not in a manipulative way, he was actually trying to hide it. He mumbled some kind of defense about how i "misunderstood him" and he changed the subject. But for the next few hours his "light" was totally gone. He forced himself to smile and act like everything was fine, but he was clearly hurt by it. I remembered that a few months ago, he mentioned that he had self-hatred problems he was trying to work through. I think I hit that nerve inside him.

I don't know what to do going forward. I don't feel like I was wrong to say what i did, but feels like the emotional damage he took was way worse than the frustration at him I felt in the moment. If I could go back, I genuinely don't know whether I would say it again or not. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[eponymous-rose]

Wednesday!

It's super foggy, so my bus gets in later than I'd like and there's no time even for the cup of tea. :( I tell my students how great they did on the first homework assignment and then launch into a lecture about the various methods we use to measure the wind. It's a fun lecture, but I'm most excited for getting into the discussion of radar next week! We also have a lecture on Friday about scientific writing that I think will be pretty interesting. Good times all around.

Lunchtime! I threw a bunch of random stuff into my bag this morning, but there's a good soup and some veggies and fruit, so I'm happy. I should probably be using this time to catch up on (SO MUCH) e-mail, but I'm just sort of zoning out and have a busy afternoon ahead, so instead I hang out and enjoy my lunch, watch some silly videos, and pay for my table vending at a card show on Sunday! Protecting an hour for lunch each day has actually been a big lift in terms of rearranging my schedule, but I notice a huge difference in my afternoon energy levels. (I do check my e-mail long enough to promise my forest service colleague that I'll get back to him tomorrow on the financial stuff.)

Now it's time for a 90-minute meeting with the team on my National Science Foundation grant - 3 professors (including me), a postdoc, and my PhD student, across two universities. The mood is considerably less panicked than it would have been yesterday! For context, all five of us have some fraction (up to 100%) of our salaries paid through this grant. One of the professors on this project is the most Eeyore person I've ever met - every statement that comes out of his mouth is a worst-case scenario or a reason why something won't work, but I've known him since I was a student, and I'm kind of used to filtering that view on life to a degree (I remember some friends and I taking him out for dinner at a conference and him saying in a morose deadpan what a good time he was having - he's just hard to read!). The other professor is an energetic ray of sunshine, but he was a little frazzled today since his kid got sick on the way to daycare and was now jumping on the couch behind him and demanding more crackers.

But it was a great meeting! We got a plan laid out for the next steps of research, and managed to put some blinders on my very, very ambitious and slightly scattered PhD student (every project leads to five side-projects with him, which is amazing... but he's meant to be defending his dissertation this summer). The highlight was when he showed some figures and promptly said "anyway, none of that's interesting, but the paper I actually want to write is--" and everyone cut him off like "WAIT WAIT PUBLISH THAT EARLIER STUFF FIRST IT'S AMAZING". I think we managed to encourage him to just publish this early stuff and also lock in the methodology so the postdoc can get started on next steps, and I got some support from sunny-professor (who was my PhD student's undergrad research advisor back in the day) to help keep my student on track - we decided to see where he's at early next week and set a deadline accordingly. We all finished the conversation in much better moods!

On to a quick half-hour chat with the student who defended his PhD last week - he has a couple questions about my comments on his dissertation and mostly just wants to pick my brain about where to put some figures in his upcoming paper. We agree that this is a job for Supplemental Materials and have a few minutes to chat about how wild the whole process feels. Since we finish a little early, I manage to get my signature on a letter supporting yet another student who recently took his PhD entrance exam.

Onward! Up next is an hour-long meeting with my first-year Master's student and her co-advisor. (Our department is very collaborative - this is my second co-advising experience, and I genuinely do really like that balance, although logistics can be a big pain.) I admire her co-advisor a lot, and I know his students think the world of him, but I think he's a little too hands-off as a research advisor sometimes - there's a time and place to let students investigate and come up with their own ideas, but a new grad student returning to academia after three years working in industry is likely going to need a little extra guidance. We do manage to throw some ideas around and I finally get a little fed up with the vagueness and point her at a dataset that I think will start to get questions going in her mind. Her co-advisor did have the excellent idea of having her put together an application for a national graduate fellowship to put a deadline on solidifying an idea for her Master's topic, and that's really helped. I also talk a bit about a Department of Energy proposal a colleague and I put together that might be a good fit for her research as well. A good chat!

Next is an undergrad research assistant (one of the amazing students taking my class this year, actually!) - she is also co-advised by another of my colleagues and I. That colleague and I have a really fun project we've been developing, also for the National Science Foundation, and one of the biggest comments on our initial submission was a lack of proof-of-concept data. Before sending in the resubmission (which is something I have to work on tomorrow), my colleague and I decided to bring on an undergraduate researcher to do some preliminary research and to get some experience working on this kind of project! We've already sent her to one conference to present her results, so she and I catch up on things (her co-advisor just left for an eight-week field campaign in a remote location in the Rockies, but will be kept up-to-date via e-mails) and she talks a bit about some of the feedback she got on her poster at the conference a couple weeks ago. That sparks some ideas about new data we want to investigate, and I think we manage to thread the needle so that we're going to be able to get substantial science done without overcommitting (she's graduating this spring!).

My final meeting is an hour-long check-in with another grad student prepping for the dreaded PhD entrance exam! He's doing extremely cool work - I like being a committee member for grad students because I get to see the work in these snapshots representing massive leaps in understanding and scientific maturity. I have just a few minor suggestions, and we agree to chat again in the next couple weeks before the exam.

Okay! It's time to make some to-do lists.

Stuff that needs to get done tomorrow (no meetings, work from home all day, sheer bliss):

Send my forest service colleague the financial info he's been waiting so patiently to get from me. This will involve coordinating with our terribly understaffed grants team and may involve me writing a few pages of justifications, so I'm anticipating this one will take a few hours.

Write letters of support for my PhD student. These are a joy to write and shouldn't take too long.

Provide comments to the postdoc out in Switzerland about her proposal. It's not a super long proposal, but it looked a little rough the last time I saw it, so I'm steeling myself for what may be a long read.

Decide whether I want to submit an abstract to a conference that'll be happening in June. It's not needed for me, but it's close by, a good friend is running it, it looks relevant, and I have some travel funds that will be deleted if they're not used by November. If I decide to go for it, writing the abstract won't take long at all.

There's a questionnaire asking how my research would be impacted by various political things going on, so I need to fill that one out.

I have a peer review for a scientific journal due on Monday that I've already delayed once - I simply gotta write it. I'm good friends with the editor, so I want to help him get that off his to-do list as well.

There's some required grants training that expires after four years, so I guess it's time for me to do that again.

Oh dang, speaking of expired, my driver's license is up and I need to apply online for the renewal (no huge inconvenience - I don't have a car and I use my passport for travel anyway).

There's a possibility of applying for a major grant with a friend in the computer science department. I don't know if either of us can put this on our plates, but we should at least chat about it quickly.

Reply to my absentee finishing-remotely-while-starting-a-new-job-but-has-been-incommunicado Master's student who reached out yesterday for the first time in three years.

Work on revisions to a grant proposal - I promised my co-author that we'd have the proposal draft ready to go by Feb. 7.

Work on revisions to the review article I have to cut down by about 5,000 words.

Stuff that needs to get done that I don't have to touch tomorrow necessarily:

E-mail my contacts in Canada and Europe re: my PhD student and future job opportunities (it's a little early to e-mail them now).

Figure out the no-cost extension process for my grant that's expiring at the end of the year - I know it has to be done at least 45 days before the grant expires.

Fill out a form that was sent to me about becoming affiliate faculty with a cool multidisciplinary institute on campus.

Make some fresh recordings for my distance-learning class next quarter (the old ones are from 2021 and I look quite frazzled).

Order copies of a couple of textbooks I'd like to evaluate for next quarter's 100-level class.

Grade the second homework assignment for my students (not due until Friday, but some may hand it in early).

Read a couple of articles recommended to me during my meetings today.

PHEW. Tomorrow is work from home! I'm excited - these have been fun days, but there's been SO MUCH one-on-one intense conversation and I'm ready to be a hermit for a bit.

[soli-nepenthe]

More Caleb Thoughts (Spoilery):

I just want to preface these rambling thoughts by saying that I have not completed his Myth Story (trial) or Anecdotes yet, as I'm just taking my Caleb doses little by little. So there may be pieces of Caleb that are missing from my whole picture.

I've never viewed him as a romantic interest though I did feel sad when he died (MC handled that PTSD situation better than I ever could've with or without nightly calls to Rafayel on the nights she couldn't sleep, but I digress...) but I wanted to try and give him a fair shot as an LI instead, though I understand why for some that is not something they can or want to do. And that is perfectly fine.

......

Well, I've managed to work my way through his main branches, and while some parts made me want to back up (the extreme measures he takes to ensure MC's safety) the general tone was heavy and heartbreaking. Caleb is not a one-sided "yandere" (if that's what you want to label him as) and even that label narrows him down to an unfair caricature.

I'm not condoning his unhealthy behaviours (which are rooted from a good place, I want to believe) but because he is in the deepest shit situation-wise with Ever and Professor Lucius (and perhaps others we don't yet know about moving behind the scenes) his actions are a desperately painful way to keep the one person he's always loved from getting hurt.

From MC's perspective, there's a lot of pain, hurt, and Catholic guilt when confronting the Caleb in the present to the the boy from her past. He knows her intimately, her pet peeves and what buttons to push or not, in ways that the other LIs would envy. That means every wound or arrow they pierce each other with has the potential to be very devastating on a mental and emotional level. And because MC knows the past Caleb so well, there's that potential to enable behaviours (both sides) that aren't exactly healthy but realistic given how long they've known each other.

I also read his New Years story, but it felt like there was something I missed (maybe answered in his Myth or Anecdotes?) because it felt like some rough patches or misunderstandings had been addressed at some level. His biggest fears seem to be losing MC forever --physically and emotionally. He doesn't want to disappoint her or to have her hate him.

I would say that Caleb's story has another dimension of that Gothic Romance, like a revenant coming back from the dead and becoming something of an unrecognizable "monster" to the person he loves. I think the developers have successfully fleshed out a complex character different to the other guys, having borderline unhealthy coping mechanisms but struggling to pull back from crossing uncrossable lines. With Caleb being a pawn in an even bigger game means that his actions will always be tainted with what he morally knows is wrong versus his own will.

We will see if my impressions of him will change when I finish the parts I need to read in the present timeline (not sure if Anecdotes is set in the present or past) but Caleb has given me a lot to think about than I anticipated.

One other thing I don't know about, or if it has been mentioned, is his feelings or thoughts towards Josephine's involvement with Ever in those experiments. She worked with a team until such a point (the Chronorift Disaster/Explosion?) before turning on them. I mean, even Ever has labeled her as a 'traitor'. I can't see her as a sweet old grandma. So for me, it's just a bit jarring that Caleb and MC visited her "grave" and seemed genuinely sad about it. In my personal opinion, her adoption of these former 'test subjects' doesn't atone for what she did. If he knows and is keeping silent to not hurt MC's feelings, it is that much more painful for him to keep a lid on those feelings of anger and resentment...

I also thought that Zayne gave MC documents (I forget which chapter) that hint at or mention "Gran's" involvement? And even Sylus hinted to MC that the people closest to her were responsible for the explosion that day...

Anyway, these are just some of my thoughts about Caleb. If I got anything wrong or if someone can clarify the Zayne point, that would be most appreciated.

EDIT: Just finished his myth story and yeah, it is HEAVY. Also, people always keep mentioning how Caleb is unhinged about MC, well, it goes both ways -- like willingly putting the Toring Chip in your own body knowing the consequences cannot be good, to try and understand/close the gap you feel between someone who has been a big part of your world since you were young? Yeah. MC is that wild. I was kind of taken out by that reckless move.

Anyway, Caleb is a man who is deeply and devotedly in love with MC, his anchor in the dystopian world that they live in (second Earth?) and like the hanged man in tarot, his options of living freely with MC are currently tied down by Lucius and Ever, the chip implanted in his body (and the 'old foxes' who have stakes at play with the Fountain of Atei/Fountain of Eternal Life??). He needs to be saved. And it's reasonable why MC doesn't want to lose him again, since he was and is still such an integral part of her life.

Loving and romancing Caleb will not be a path of flowers for MC, and there has to be room for healing the hurts on both sides as their relationship develops further.

I can only hope that groups like Onychinus (Sylus) continue to be a massive thorn in Ever's plans.

(Gonna leave it here, but Zedd's Clarity really encapsulates their dynamic perfectly.)

[web-messages]

The sound is annoying me a lot, but I play it cool - it's my fault after all. I never remember to wipe off the bottom of the coffee pot with a towel, so when the little hot plate turns on beneath it the moisture pops and crackles in anguish like a pan of turkey bacon.

My shadow, Zeebzint, turns to me in curiosity. I anticipate his tone well before he vocalizes. "Biixiibibibi bi bibishzi?" I shake my head. "-not normally, no." He tilts, confused. "I made a mistake using the machine. It typically just gurgles." I gesture lazily with my hand, pointing to the pot. "It's not supposed to be wet." He doesn't seem satisfied, but his large dark eyes trail off into the distance, I take it as an okay time to stop explaining.

As we walk back to the lab (each with a mug of black coffee) I can tell he's going to be especially inquisitive today. When this started a few months ago I genuinely thought it'd be like an employment thing. This job isn't great but I've at least worked here long enough that I can explain it. Instead - I don't know how else to say it but it's like he never bothered to read about Earth at all. He asks me about every interaction I have, about the speed I drive and the time I spend asleep, and the frequency has yet to slow. Thank god he at least knows not to follow me into the bathroom.

----

As he promised, Professor Hallgrin has decided to grace our little field expedition with his presence this morning. He's not wearing his usual slacks and jacket. Instead, he's in a t-shirt and jeans that look at once both poorly made and expensive. He gravitates eagerly towards Zeebzint, but despite his availability and interest yet again fails to capture the little alien's interest. Maybe Zeebzint can tell when Hallgrin's institutional pride dulls the usefulness of his answers? Could also just be that Hallgrin's cloying gaze is just as annoying to the green man as it is to me.

After burning my tongue on my stupid coffee I rescue him from Hallgrin's outreach. "I pre loaded the truck yesterday, we can head out as soon as you're ready." He perks up. "Well of course! I'm plenty ready. Lead the way." I don't move. "You said you were going to bring a camera, right?" The professor softly palms his tall forehead and steps out of the lab, returning shortly with a beautiful camera dangling perilously from his pale neck.

I grab the keys and the three of us pace out the building and up the slopes of the nearby parking tower. "Biizeeziisizo bibizi?" I manually unlock each of the doors of the old truck before getting seated. "Well yeah, we do have cameras in our phones but they don't take nice pictures. Hallgrin wants high quality pictures for the website." Zeebzint settles between us.

"Borzoizoibs, bizizizobii? ba biiyo?" I tense up slightly. He has a habit of asking this exact kind of thing in front of people where I can't answer honestly. "No they won't take long." He looks at me, unconvinced. "We should still be able to grab soil samples and spray at each of the sites, might just be an hour or so late back to the lab." He looks at his wrist as if there were a watch. I'm not sure what he's feeling.

----

The 40 minute drive to Rockville was not unpleasant per se, it had far fewer questions with Hallgrin around. I begin to wonder if maybe Zeebzint is nearing the end of his studies. It seems like rather than go for a fixed amount of time most of these work study abroad students simply return to their planet once they're satisfied with what they've seen. Can't say for sure though, nobody has ever given me a straight answer about it.

We arrive at one of our many field sites, an upscale home with rose bushes and little cherubic statues throughout the garden. I knock on the front door. This can be the worst part. Some people are pleased to have an "invasive insect team" personally checking in on their roses - others, though, will object pretty violently to the presence of science. Sometimes you just get a look from someone and you can tell they're worried you'll try to vaccinate them. It's better when they see us more like lawn guys.

A woman no younger than 50 answers the door and recognizes me and my shadow. She seems almost giddy. "Hey miss, it's us from the university again. Gardening going ok?" With two dry palms she clasps my hand. "You're here at the perfect time! We found an egg sac!" My eyes widen and I exchange a glance with Hallgrin. Zeebzint is mumbling something to me, but I can't answer him. "Could you show it to us?"

She leads us into her manicured garage. Large gardening tools hang high up on tool boards. The smooth pavement floor is being loudly stomped as several voices cheer.

Zeebzint tugs on my sleeve but I shrug him off. Dazzling ruby insects dot the floor. From a freshly cut rose branch a clutch of newly hatched Rove Beetles of some kind scramble beneath the eager feet of two children and their father - gleefully stomping out the pests and congratulating one another. The woman watches my reaction carefully, so I keep my eyebrows raised in faux surprise. The children do not stop and attend our arrival, overcome with euphoria as they pop the creatures like pimples.

"Xorzii! Ziibibi? Ziibibi bor?" - Me and Hallgrin make a silent decision. I shake her hand and say "Thank-you for doing your part in science!" and she seems quite proud - wonderful. I sigh as we step outside to begin taking measurements on the bushes. The air was uncharacteristically silent.

----

I have to assume that Zeebzint knew enough about our work to know that the invasive pest we study does not hatch from large clutches, or even from external egg structures of that kind at all. Were it possible to have stepped aside during the event to explain why I didn't tell them - I would have. But he was never patient enough. Always asking questions in the moment, never after. I won't miss the weird urgency with which he interjected into everything.

All that said, I would have liked to get a goodbye. You see all these articles about Martians giving their mentors these heartfelt goodbye gifts, these moments of tenderness where all the education pays off - it's not like I need that but I was curious what it'd look like, what he would have found most informative from his time here.

He was probably upset at me for some weird alien faux pas, I dunno. After that day I didn't see him again. The lab is quiet.

[knightyoomyoui]

Tzuyu x M/F Reader - "A Depressing Resemblance"

I'm back for the nth time lmao. Yeah, college life is SO stressful and tiring. I couldn't get to build up interest on writing on my free time because anytime I would just rather use my day off by taking a long rest from all the hectic school tasks to accomplish. Anyways, I know I said from the previous Chaeyoung fic that it would be the last one-shot for Set 5 lineup? I changed my mind. THIS is the last one. I had to make it... uhh organized, I guess? Like, you know... I don't want to just end it off right away to Chaeyoung for Set 5 unlike what I've been doing from the previous line-ups where Tzuyu who is the last member based on their age order (yeah, i'm depending my line-up pattern from their age order) should originally be the last one to close the line-up. So yeah, the Set 5 INDEED ENDS HERE. For Set 6, I'm scrapping off the Tzuyu fic of my idea and I 'm going to move Cry For Me PART 3 after Momo's (which means PART 3 and 4 will be next at each other) so that would make me start the line-up with Nayeon's in usual. Basically, there's gonna be only one Tzuyu solo fic for Set 6 and that will be the "Red Thread Of Fate" which was suggested by ShaShaSha029. Again, I deeply apologize that I'm uploading very slow now for this book. Being a college/engineering student is very difficult, guys. I can't promise anymore that I'm going to do better on releasing works, but I can assure yall that I will not stop and I will finish this book in the future. Enjoy reading guys!

Walking back and locking yourself alone inside your office on campus was a typical habit of yours to do every day. You couldn't help it either, as long as you found all of the professors who taught the subjects, especially the major ones, to be lame.

Brilliance might be a curse for you to possess, but you wouldn't deny at least that it does save you at a point where you need to escape from something you wouldn't be in.

Your hand stopped from rotating the doorknob, just as your heart ached as you had that thought again.

The thought belongs to one of the biggest what-ifs you will ever carry for the rest of your life.

What would you be right now if that brilliance of yours had assisted you to make on time and save someone rather than yourself?

Exhaling deeply to regain your composure, you unlocked the door and stepped in immediately.

You dropped your bag on the couch and went near the bulletin board of your club's room.

It was clean; there were not many cases you had to check to place yourself in enjoyment and impress everybody with your remarkable deductive skills.

But there was always a thing that would distract you amongst the rest—nothing to seem care about anything once you got a glimpse of it.

It happens everytime, whether you do it intentionally or not.

No matter what, it still remains the same.

It's hard to look.

You stared at the display of a photo of your club featuring you, who seemed completely united, even facing the other direction instead of the camera with your grumpy face.

To your side was a girl. She was your co-member... Well, technically, your only partner and member of your "club" since you were known to be a terror, cold individual around the campus, all of the students except her had the interest to join alongside your student-detective role. But most importantly... she was the one you adored a lot. She was the only exception, and truly did prove you right from the day you met her.

Her smile was very bright; it could've been like her future if it weren't for that to happen. She could've still been here with you, ready to solve mysterious cases and chasing culprits with you.

You flinched as the reality of it tugged at your heart painfully again.

That was the last photo you've taken with her, and that was on the same day you'd lost her afterwards.

To quit hurting yourself too much, you went on to be preoccupied with other things to get busy with. In your desk were some papers to finish, including the main case you're currently investigating which seems like the truth is about to set free sooner now that you've captured the mastermind's greatest ally.

As you were reviewing all the photos and other informations regarding the case, your door was received with knocks.

"Come in." You yelled from the inside.

The door opens, revealing someone that put you again in pleading for mercy.

Mercy that she would stop bothering you anymore.

"What is it this time, Sally?" You asked her without much of energy in your voice.

"Any updates within my application? It's been like days now since I applied." She said as she plants down her bag on your couch as if she owned the place with you.

"Wh- huh?" You clenched your face in confusion. "Did you really listened to what I've said for the past days or you're just doing it all intentionally to mess around with me?"

"What did I do? I was just asking."

"Sally..." You paused as you slammed your papers on the table to try holding your temper down as you were about to get mad again. "For how many times, I already told you that your application is rejected. What's in there that's so hard for you to understand?!"

"Ohhhh..." Sally reacted, gasping her mouth in fascination. It was then her expression transformed back into a serious one. "Wait, you sure?"

You slumped your back on the chair in defeat. Rubbing your hands on your face in frustration, you squinted your eyes and furrowed your eyebrows as you stare at her fiercely.

"Just... what do you want? What you need for me to make you stop?" You said wearily. "I have no time to play with your games, Sally."

"Nothing more. I just want to be on your detective club. That's it." Sally shrugged as she looked around the room. Her smile became forced for a while at something before she returns her focus at you.

"Well guess what, Sally. Hate to break it to you but whatever you do, even if you wont stop annoying me with your application, I won't give it to you." You make things clear to her. "You are not qualified to be in this club. Now please, I'm begging you. Get out."

Sally stared at you for a moment before she pouted and picked up her bag. "Guess you need some more convincing. I'll you show then."

"Wait, hey!-"

She closed the door and left the room, rudely interrupting your complaint that was about to come. You groaned in irritation as you ran out of ways to get rid of that woman.

It's kind of ironic that you both don't even know why she is so desperate to join your team and why she introduced herself when it was during the time that you were still grieving.

The scenarios have made you feel like this isn't even a coincidence anymore. Something strange must be behind all of this.

Later at night, you were reporting all of the insights you'd constructed to your senior police inspector, who is assigned to your campus' main security and protection team, when you received a call from an anonymous number.

"Hello hello, have I interrupted you with your silly job, YN?" The voice of a violent cruel person has got your attention to be in complete alert.

You quickly stood up from your seat and made a distance to excuse yourself.

"Yishin? What's with the sudden call?"

"Just wanna show you something~" he turned the call into a video one, and what showed into your screen had you tremble in fear.

"No. W-what are you doing there? W-why are you spying on h-"

"Karma is a bitch, YN. Look's like this girl's been so interested in joining your rotten club that already lost its charm ever since your precious charming girlfriend gone forever that she couldn't stop coming in your office."

He said as the video continues to record Sally who seemed like she was writing something on her notes while sitting down on one of the steps in front of the building.

"You took out my informant, and I'll give it you. You probably did that in return for what I've done to you, but here's what I had understand very clear about you. You're stupid and dumb, YN. This fight between us is far from over. It's like a cycle, on and on and on, and payback's going to be on repeat not until one of us gives up and simply drop dead.

So... what do you say, should we play a game by losing your next partner in justice?"

"YOU SON OF A BITCH, LEAVE HER ALONE ON THIS!" You clenched your fist tighter on your phone as your screamed, shocking everyone on the police station.

"Oh yeah, you're going to succumb to her desperation right, hmm?" He laughed maniacally as he watches her start to fix up her bag. "Oh come on, don't tell me you won't! You've always been so soft whenever it comes to her."

"I'm going to go there, so I can finally end this once in for all, you fucker." You blatantly warned him. "It's time that you finally came out of your hiding, but I expected better from you to face me rather than putting innocent life here at stake."

"Well, that's what you've been so wrong about me, YN." He teased you. "I never play fair." He ended the call, leaving you in a panic state as you hurriedly returned to the desk.

"INSPECTOR, WE HAVE TO MOVE FAST AND GO BACK TO THE SCHOOL. SOME STUDENT THERE IS ON DANGER BECAUSE OF STRYKER. PLEASE, CALL SOME BACK UPS NOW."

"On it."

You went into your car and drove fast into the campus where you searched for the building that you've last seen Sally at.

Fortunately, you got there pretty much on time for you to locate Sally, but in your surprise, what you've seen had you in suspicion.

Sally was stomping Yishin also known as Stryker on the stomach as his hands were tied in the back using a duct tape. His face were beaten up badly, but his craziness won't allow him to stop laughing at his pain and defeat.

"I knew it, I knew there's something interesting about you! But this wasn't what I have in mind-"

Stryker was shut up by Sally who punched him back and forth in the face. "Then now you know, because you deserve this. I hold vengeance, I'm going to hit you with it and have you feel my wrath of punishment."

Sally plastered another duct tape into his mouth before she turned around and see you standing, watching her in disbelief.

"What's going on..." You breathily said. "How could you do this by yourself?"

"Hey YN! Look what I have here. How's my performance? Am I qualified now?"

You stepped forward at her and eyed her sharply. "Tell me, who the hell are you?"

"Didn't I gave you my biodata-"

"Quit spinning my words and don't give me any bullshit. Answer me properly, WHY DO YOU KEEP ON PESTERING ME?!"

"Can you please stop yelling? Why are you even so mad about me, I haven't even done anything wrong to you?!" She returned. You turned around face her away as you took some time to breathe out.

"I just wanted to be part of your club, join you on exploring cases, I even helped you finish one, what's your problem?! There's something that's holding you back, why couldn't you just share it to me!"

"IT'S YOU! THE PROBLEM IS YOU!" Your voice cracked as you snapped at Sally and glanced back angrily at her, making her flinch. "I don't even know you and I don't like you being around me, especially when you're... wearing the same face as my friend who passed away months ago!" "On top of that, you also started to act the same way how she applied for my club too!" you revealed to her.

You pulled out your phone and opened it, revealing your wallpaper with a picture of your girl, captured by you when you decided to sneakily take one because she looked so cute thinking deeply while solving cases with you.

You gave it to Sally who hold the phone as she looked at your wallpaper. You began to cry as all the emotions took over you when you felt you had to reminisce the memories she left for you.

"Her name's Chou Tzuyu. She was just like the same age as yours, I don't even know how it's possible that you look exactly like her." you got choked in your words as you traced Sally's figure in bitter amazement. To describe Sally's appearance, she sports a curvy black long hair, a thicker jawline, and more well-built compared to Tzuyu who has straight blonde long hair, round face structure with less visible jawline, and slimmer figure. The rest were literal similarities of them together, speaking of being skillful, beautiful, adorable, tall, smart and lively but can be very intimidating when gets serious and many more.

"She died 7 months ago, because of that bastard." You glared at Stryker who is now unconscious. "I didn't want her to get involved too much about his case knowing how dangerous it is. He killed a lot of students whether a part of his scheme or not.

But she insisted. She wanted to stay and help me, because she didn't want me either to be in danger and get stressed out with this along with the academics. I just... let her because I didn't wanna make her sad but..."

You sobbed between your words as the flashbacks ran into your mind, starting from the time your feelings bloomed for the first time because of Tzuyu's undeniable charm.

"I just wanted to protect her because I love her. I grew in love for my partner. I couldn't help it, she's the exact opposite as me, she's beautiful and very lovely. I never had the courage to tell her because I was scared that she wouldn't like me back."

Going back, she invested herself more on the case, to the point that Stryker and his allies started to target her as she collected too much infos from them.

Then one night, I came into her dorm because I wanted to ask her out to eat with me outside to loosen ourselves a bit with the case,

But I found her instead, her door was slightly opened..."

You recalled as you entered her room and what greeted you was too devastating and sickening of you to endure.

You had to witness the cold dead body of Tzuyu laying down on her bed with her own pool of blood. She had a knife stabbed in her stomach, with a note saying that "she has seen too much.

As the police arrived, you had to help them bring Tzuyu to the ambulance as you joined them there to have her get treated. Unfortunately, your prayers didn't worked as she was pronounced dead on arrival from lost of much blood and organ damage.

You collapsed at the hallway in torment as you witness Tzuyu lost her life forever. You realized that you won't be able to hear her soft voice that keeps you awake everyday, her laughs and smile that brightens up your mood, and her presence that got you moving with enthusiasm.

Tzuyu showed the colors in your personality, and now that she's gone, it's like your entire self had gotten back to dull and dark, even worse than before.

Before ofcourse, she was the love of your life, the girl of your admiration, and the only one who makes you feel alive.

It took you time to heal, even halting your investigations against Stryker organization for 3 months before you returned as all the memories with her you revisited had you encouraged that you will bring her the justice she deserves once you figured out that Stryker is still on the roll on unleashing havoc around the campus.

Your words were cut off when you saw that Sally started to cry too, sniffing as she wiped her tears while she stares at Tzuyu's picture. "What's with the tears?"

"I'm sorry... it m-must've been... very tough for you." She said in her shaky voice. "I know because I went the same as yours. It hurts to lost a loved one. Even now I still couldn't wrapped it up in my head that my only sister is gone."

You sprung up your head as you looked at her in astonishment. Sally was staring at you, with her dreadful eyes.

"What did you just said?"

"Tzuyu is my twin sister. My plans of joining your club were true; I wanted you to believe me, but I hope this time it will get you to consider mine," she said as she began to clear her throat to speak out her explanation. You were trying to process it in your head as the thought of Sally being another replica and a depressing resemblance to Tzuyu turns out it wasn't just like that for the entire time as the revelations led to tie up everything to make sense that the reason was that they were indeed connected and related to each other in blood and flesh.

"I was studying at the other university. One day, she went on my room, giving me a favor. She told me about you and this case of hers that she's been solving with you."

"Oh god."

"She asked me to get to know you someday and in case of what happens, I'll be the one who'll replace her." she said as you shivered. "Do you know why she wanted it to happen, YN?

She wanted me to continue taking care of you. She doesn't want you to be alone. She wanted me to keep on protecting you, YN."

You sobbed heavily on the ground as you fell on your knees and covered your face with your palm. Sally kneeled beside you and hugged you tightly while caressing your back.

"I was worried for her, but I knew I couldn't stop her. And so, I accepted her offer because I always want to do what's best for Tzuyu. As long as my sister is happy. And when the tragedy happened, I had no choice but to transfer here, search for you and come here with my face that resembles a lot like Tzuyu, like the girl you admire. I didn't intend to spook you or hurt you further, I shouldn't have played with you more but I already had the culprit in my hands at that given time too.

You think you're the only one in hellbent taking him down, you're not. I wanted to give my sister justice too, and that's why I want to help you. I'm deeply sorry again, YN."

You wiped your tears away as you looked at Sally closely. "Day and night, I still can't forgive myself for what happened. Tzuyu won't be dead because of me. I failed to save her."

"Stop it, YN, Tzuyu didn't want it either to happen, but now it did and it's unstoppable. It hurts but we have to move on and go forward. Do you think Tzuyu would like seeing you drowning in grief and guilt blaming yourself for something that you haven't caused at all?"

She went to comfort you, wrapping you in her arms for a gentle embrace. "For Tzuyu. We will have each other's backs from now on,. Please, move on. It's harder to stay."

You nodded as you sniffed and eased your heavy breathing. "I-I understand now. I'm sorry if I was being too harsh. I just... couldn't stand doing the same mistake again."

"Don't worry, YN. It's been a rough time for you to contain it all. Let it out on me."

You and Sally stayed for a while, holding each other in solace to finally free yourselves together from the burden of grieving Tzuyu's passing.

"So... am I qualified now?" Sally turned to look at you as she joked.

You chuckled as you nodded your head. "Yes."

"Well, finally I did it." Sally released a long sigh. "Thank you and it's nice to meet you properly this time, YN."

"Me too, Sally."

The police finally came, they arrested Stryker and the inspector congratulated the two of you while he tried to convince himself that it wasn't really Tzuyu that he is seeing, but rather her twin sibling.

You and Sally are sitting at the back of the police car, resting as you observed the police team going around the place as part of the investigation.

"Oh, I forgot." Sally reached out to her pocket, revealing your phone. She handed it to you as she opened it, showing your wallpaper of Tzuyu again.

"Thanks."

Sally watched you look at Tzuyu admirably. She smiled at how mellow your eyes went as you traced Tzuyu's features. You truly did loved her sister a lot. She would probably liked it if she witnessed Tzuyu being with you earlier.

"YN.

"What is it?

Sally roams around the pitch black orbs of your eyes, a simple curve formed within her lips. "Tzuyu loves you too. A lot. The way she mentions your name to me and shares her stories being with you, it's pleasantly different."

"Yeah, now I know."You looked at her as your eyes became watery and nodded with a tightlipped smile. "I just wish I had the chance to tell her mine."

"If your fate did, I bet you two will be fun." Sally guessed as she smirked at you.

You lowered your head and smiled sheepishly as you muttered. "Like you wouldn't imagine." "I look forward to get to know you more, YN." Sally stated as she daggered her sight equal to your level then proceeded to playfully bump your shoulder. "So am I, Sally." You patted her head in which she giggled, exactly like Tzuyu would react at your sweet gesture. It did kinda made you miss her again, but it'll take some time for you to completely heal.

You meant what you said. With Sally to accompany you through everything, no instances that she'll leave you staying in the dark anymore, it's confirmed that you'll learn to maintain yourself to be calm and create a closer relationship beside her.

In return, you'll be there for her while she continues what Tzuyu has always desired to do for you.

[saulweissberg]

Last night I told a stranger all about you They smiled patiently with disbelief I always knew you would succeed, no matter what you tried And I know you did it all in spite of me —IN SPITE OF ME, MORPHINE

content warnings: neglect, abuse mention, drugs, alcoholism, death, depression, grief, homophobia, allusions to antisemitism.

I’m a bad father. This is an unfortunate truth about myself. I am a loving father, but a neglectful one. I do not hit my son, I don't yell or mess with his emotions, I haven't gone to jail or drunk myself into a stupor or picked drugs over him, but I am still a bad father. I am a loving, affectionate father, and I try to give Micah everything that I can. I buy him whatever he wants. I take him on trips—or I did, when he still allowed me to—to wherever he wanted. I told him how smart, how handsome, how funny he is, a million times over. But none of that will make up for what I didn't give him—my time. I chose work over him. I chose work over everyone. 

Every attorney I've ever known has done the same. 

My own father had done the same, to a lesser degree. A lawyer just like me, though our specializations are different, and sometimes I wonder if he would be disappointed by me going into family law instead of criminal law like he had. (By that metric, would he be even more disappointed by Levi, my twin, choosing academia over the law?) My father was there, physically, but his mind was often somewhere else. He was busy thinking about how to get his client off on man two instead of man one, or expatiating on the meaning of mens rea, or just something. Just something that gave him a faraway look in his eye, something that captured his attention instead of us and we could only get it back if we were too loud, or if we called his full name in our boyish, shrill voices, which he hated to hear because children should always respect their parents. So, he was there in body, but the mind…

Our mother made up for that. Where my dad was distant until it was time for a lecture or a punishment, my mother was overly involved. She wanted to know what Levi and I were talking about so late into the night, or if we had girlfriends yet, or who was better: Bon Jovi or Van Halen? As if we didn’t know she thought good music consisted of two names only—Frankie Valli and Meat Loaf. She was sometimes a little outnumbered by her hyperactive children, but she has always been a strong woman, and she has always taken everything in stride. The only thing that ever got in her way was my father’s death. It was so sudden, so abrupt, that it changed the very nature of all three of us for the rest of our lives. My mother fell into a deep depression for a few years, a fugue that was only broken by our high school graduations and an opening on the country club’s board. Levi and I were always codependent, but our father’s death made us circle the wagons—mom was too distracted, dad was gone, and we were mostly on our own. We only had each other. We kind of preferred it that way.

That’s not to say that I had bad parents. My parents loved me. My mother still loves me. Even for the generation that they came from, or being New England Democrats in the eighties, my parents were rather progressive. They hated Reagan deeply and looked… favorably upon gay people. They never taught us to hate anyone—except Conservatives—and we were told to look at the world through a lens of understanding. The Weissbergs were proud to be contemporaries of the Kennedys and the Wadsworths. A long, long blue blooded lineage of doctors, lawyers, professors, and authors. We were like the rest of high society, except for our differing religions, and I think that kept us humble. To know that we could waltz right into a party, but know we wouldn’t be entirely welcome. That there were some doors that would always be closed to us, no matter how long we have lived here or how far back our family tree goes. We weren’t as stuffy as the WASPs. We know how to have fun… as long as we don’t bring any shame to the family name. 

My parents knew something was different about me, and in their own way, they had accepted that. They accepted it in the way someone ignores someone’s drinking because at least it’s not meth. Particularly at that time, when my father was still alive. Now, my mother’s a sweet old lady, but even she had some reservations about my behavior when I was a teenager. I made sure never to do anything in front of them, but in the microsociety that I grew up in, rumors were told more often than truths. Part of what came back to them was true. I was… lecherous. Despite barely clearing 5’5” for most of high school (until a last minute growth spurt), I had a natural ease with people. Especially girls, but not only girls. Even after the death of my father, I have always been able to just walk into a room and now I’d be leaving with someone that night. My parents tutted and shook their heads at my antics when it came to making out with a senator’s daughter at the country club, but my close relationship with my childhood best friend Aharon was outright ignored—denied—best as they could. Not because they thought it was wrong that I liked another boy, but that I'd do it so openly.

Again, I did not have bad parents. It was the eighties, so all things considered, my parents were a liberal safe haven. That’s as best as we could ask for back then, just the right to exist. To be acknowledged. Because even if they were turning a blind eye, you’d still have known something was there to turn away from it. And, despite all the petty arguments I used to get into with my father, I know he loved me. I know my mother loves me, but she’s not always proud of me. I don’t know if my father would be proud of me. I have every success in the world, but I don’t have my son. I don’t have a wife anymore. My firm is all I have. My work is all I have. Sometimes, that’s okay with me. Because it has to be. I have nothing else, and that’s by design. I just didn’t realize what that design was until it was too late. It made me successful, but it made me a bad father.

It’s not that I didn’t want to be there for him. Or my wives. I just wanted more than anything to be able to do both. To be the father and husband that they needed, and the lawyer that I am. I couldn’t do both. I don’t think anyone can. Most of my colleagues in New York came from the same type of background—rich families, a legacy admission to whichever ivy league, an expectation for success, a wife and kid at home. The majority of them had the same kind of proclivities. Some were actually worse than me, if you can believe it. Drug and alcohol abuse runs rampant in the legal circles in any city, but particularly Manhattan. Particularly in prestigious white-shoe firms. A few of them would proclaim they’d hate for their children to follow them into law, that the stress and environment wasn’t worth it, but most of us would be lying if we said that. It’s sort of the ultimate validation, isn’t it? Your children wanting to follow in your footsteps, to be like Daddy because that’s exactly what we did. Even if we did things slightly differently, like choosing a different specialization, we still became lawyers like our fathers.

That’s the thing, though. I never pressured Micah to pick law school. I never pushed it on him, or said ‘you’re going to Columbia like I did and that’s final, anywhere else—especially a state school—is a betrayal’ like some other men did. I have always wanted him to be happy, to find his own path. If he wanted to be a lawyer? Then that would be amazing, it would make me glad, but it was never a requirement for my love and attention. I never wanted anything for Micah but the very best. I guess the very best doesn’t happen without a more attentive father. That was what he needed and I hadn’t realized it until it was too late, because I thought what I was doing was the very best—giving him whatever he wanted with the money I earned. Showing my devotion to him through setting him up for life, so he could go to an ivy league school or climb mountains or just whatever the fuck he wanted to do. The freedom to do what he wanted, to be who he wanted to be.

Okay, yes, there were some days where I convinced myself that it was okay because Micah didn’t need me. He had Terry and he had Tamara to give him the parental affection he needed. The long hours and the missed baseball games and postponed dinners were okay in the long run, because I could fix that later. I couldn’t represent Kelsey Grammar’s ex-wife again. I couldn’t impress the partners with my work ethnic by doing all my work later. The success would be long term, but the actual work was temporary. Opportunities lost at the firm wouldn’t come back again, even with the last name Weissberg to do the heavy lifting. I had to sacrifice my relationships in order to just be a tenth successful as the guy above me, and for some stupid reason, I thought Micah would always be there. I don’t know why I thought that, since my own father wasn’t there forever, but I did think that. I thought Micah would never stop being excited to see me. I thought I’d always be his hero. I thought he would never stop loving me, simply because I am his father. I was wrong. 

That’s the most horrible part, I think. That I was so stupid to think that Micah would always be okay because I’ve always been okay. I’ve come through my father’s death, all my divorces, every horrible case being okay. Maybe Terry, Tammy, and Thalia would say otherwise, but all things considered… I guess I just figured Micah wouldn’t suffer any hardships, or if he did, he’d bounce back just like I had. I was wrong. If I was a more attentive father, maybe I would have figured that out years ago. Decades ago. I’d have been able to help him in some way. If I had known… If I had forced myself to know, maybe he wouldn’t be so bad off. Or I’d be able to get him treatment earlier. Protected him from whatever happened in high school. I don’t know what it was, Ravi wouldn’t tell me, but if it set him on this path where he can’t handle goodbyes or keep his head on straight or just be okay, maybe I could have stopped that. I don’t know. 

Terry says self-pity does not become me or some shit. But it’s all I have sometimes. Am I not supposed to be sad about how I failed my child? Would it be better to act as if I have done nothing wrong? It is an unequivocal truth: I have failed Micah, and I cannot fix it. I cannot be forgiven for it. But I won't stop trying. Never.

I am a bad father. But I love my son, and nothing will ever change that. 

I repeat, nothing will ever change that.

I repeat, I love my son.

I repeat, I am a bad father.

[raspberry-gloaming]

I'm currently at a point where because I've got into Gallifrey, I follow or have at least browsed people's blogs who love other dweu stuff. And I thought it might be fun to say what I currently think and know about eu characters/companions so when I have in the future delved deeper into the eu I can look back and compare and laugh and see how much is accurate! There's gonna be a "read more" here because this gonna get Long.

Also please let me know what I've got right and not and also tell me more about these characters if you are fans of them!

Benny: starting off strong i know some stuff about her! she's an archeologist from the future (wonder if she ever met River) and she travelled with... one of the doctor(s)? Possibly Seven? She is besties with Brax and sometimes works for him and his collection. Probably must be able to put up with bullshit because of those last two points. Has a husband called Jason and at least one kid, which, iconic, female adventure and action protagonists should get to be mums more often its always the childfree so big up Benny for that. made a cameo at the end of Gallifrey IV.

Evelyn: I have heard her. A little. I basically skipped through the apocalypse element because I wanted to understand some of the reasons that Romana is the way she is in Gallifrey, but didn't listen properly because I got bored. Is an old lady, which is great - its great to see ages mixing it up a bit, instead of the 19-25 year old girl primary companions we consistently get in nu-who. Travelled with Six and is/was a professor at a university. Not sure for which subject though.

Fitz: Canonically bisexual and wears a leather jacket. I've seen A Lot of shipping him and Eight, and these shippers seem to have a similar vibe to Two/Jamie shippers. I don't know much else, except that his time with the doctor is probably fucked up because from what I have gleaned, Eight's companions Go Through It like big time.

Compassion: Faction Paradox which I believe is in an alternate universe (also the faction paradox timelines seem to have have a different vibe of names to the main universe ones, every time I'm on the "Individual Time Lords" category on the wiki and see a name that seems out of place it turns out to be a character from Faction Paradox.) Is a person (human i think?) but is also a TARDIS? Like you can go into her and travel? Where tf is the door this is very cursed. Also used as a breeding machine to make more TARDISes as well? By Romana? Idk but this seems pretty fucked up in an icky way. And fucked up in a non-icky way too. I'm just confused tbh. Not sure which doctor is involved in this one.

C'rizz - Possibly people can't say his name right? Is that him? Alien boy, travelled with Eight and Charley. That's about all I know.

Chris Cwej: I know even less about him, hes the other possibility for people mixing up his name or something. Think he travelled with Seven. Idk why but he gives me dick vibes.

Hex Schofield: Travelled with Ace and Seven. Is from 2021 or something and says "sus." Which yh that was a thing but he was made before among us existed that's a cool coincidence that it turned out like that.

Liv and Helen: They exist. That's it I know nothing more.

Molly O'Sullivan: Also exists. Travelled with eight?

Charley Pollard: Has a Nazi for a sister - Blind Eye my beloved. Calls herself Edwardian even though she's from the 1930s, idk if its like a character point or an accidental fuck up by the writers. Has a romance with the doctor in some form. And also a pretty messed up relationship with him i think. Actually just a pretty messed up time. Especially because I think she was in Scherzo which I hear Wild Blue Yonder was inspired by. So good luck girl you're gonna need it.