#that's not even getting into how that person liked to lecture me.

[astracora]

Poly!LADs headcanons #2

Social Edition

Featuring main MC.

Masterlist

Social Media

Zayne uses his online profiles pretty much exclusively for work. He follows distinguished professionals, especially in cardiology to keep up with the industry and build connections. He also shares information and studies, because he's aware patients follow him or family of patients, about health and general ways to assist with recovery. Has reported a lot of articles though, for misinformation.

He only really has one personal account, which is not openly shared, he uses this one to keep up with the polycules updates (even though he finds himself tutting as Xavier posts about the 6th pot noodle he's eaten that day), and comments on as many as he can (absolutely has alerts set up for MC specifically). Has more than one caught Rafayel and Sylus (whose account is of course under Skye to alleviate stress), plotting some prank, and printed out a screenshot to question them.

It goes as well as you'd expect.

Rafayel does not separate his work from his personal. This man will post about anything and everything, you want art exhibit exclusive updates? Follow Thomas. With Raffy you'll get every little hyperfixation, all his personal updates, random things he finds pretty, the occasional fawning over his loved ones in all caps, and the occasional art related post (Thomas normally has to remind him.) He binged a 20 episode show once, and wouldn't stop talking about it for months. He also will rant about the environment and things people can do to do their part. If he loses followers he doesn't care. Once Xavier accidentally unfollowed him (because trying to type with one hand while half asleep is a disaster waiting to happen) and he sulked for a week.

Likes everything the polycule posts, except for Sylus. Sometimes he leaves his usual 'dumb crow' comment, but Sylus casually mentioned that it showed he still cared enough to read, and Raffy ignored his posts for two months after that in protest. (When it gets brought up, he still blushes.)

Xavier is only as active as he has to be. He doesn't really follow a lot of people, the polycule, Jeremiah, Nero, Tara, Simone, Andrew and Jenna. MC once asked why he didn't really follow anyone else, and he just shrugged, too much work, and went back to what he was doing. Will tag himself and the polycule in locations when they go out, he takes photos fairly often, but will normally forget to post them. Raffy made a comment about it being a good method to track the progression of time and remembering what you get up to, and he started posting more often after that. His updates are mundane things, day-to-day, nice things he's seen, and nothing too groundbreaking.

Sometimes he does go back through his account to look at stuff though, it normally reminds him he wants to print certain photos out though. Preferring to have physical copies of memories. (Nero absolutely runs a Lumiere account that Xavier does NOT follow, but Sylus and MC do because they think it's hilarious.)

Sylus' account is under Skye or whatever nickname he's been called that amuses him that week. (He once changed it to 'fish eating crow' and the argument between him and Rafayel was so loud, Zayne made a deal with Sylus to change it back.) He follows the entire polycule, as well as Tara, Luke and Kieran. He says he follows Luke and Kieran because they sometimes post what chaos they plan to get up to next, but he likes all the things they post, and occasionally comments. (Sometimes if it's particularly troublesome, he comments 'Come see me.', and they know they're in for a lecture.) His updates can be anything, they're even more eclectic than Rafayel on account of how much amuses him on a daily basis. He also posts an obscene amount of photos he's taken of the polycule.

Doesn't have a business account because he doesn't need it, his name is enough. Any information he gets about any shady n109 zone business is through other methods. He absolutely is the kind of person to save posts to show people because they made him think of them. So so many links, found when he has a particularly boring meeting. Was following Jenna, MC took his phone and made him unfollow Jenna. 

MC has one account that follows everyone they personally know, plushie release updates, anything relevant to their interests (gaming magazines/film updates), and the occasional account that just posts pictures of animals. They go through entire periods of not posting or visiting their social media at all, and then intense fixation periods where they sit for an hour or two just liking and commenting. They share a lot of things to show the polycule, can be anything from a picture of a crow with a little hat (it's you Sy!), or a really beautiful photograph (for Raffy's inspiration). Number one fan for Simone and Tara specifically. They don't have alerts set up but they'll periodically just open profiles from the polycule to browse their pages.

Their pfp changes CONSTANTLY. It's not them, Sylus keeps changing it, with any new photo he sees. Sometimes its a cat with the most ridiculous face, other times its a snapshot Xavier's taken where they've been taken by surprise. Sometimes they notice straight away, other times they don't notice at all.

Talkative levels

Rafayel > Sylus > MC > Zayne > Xavier > Rafayel (if he hates you)

Rafayel, if he likes you, will talk for England. He can talk about anything, and fill any empty space. As long as you're listening or want him to keep going, he'll do so. While he's happy to sit in silence, he enjoys conversation, about any range of topics. He's a smart, knowledgeable man with a breadth of knowledge. History, Art, Politics and Environment are some top things he'll be able to engage in. Also just likes to talk shit.

If he doesn't like you, he will barely engage, unless he feels the need to add a threat (normally only important when he's protecting the people he loves).

Sylus can talk a lot, and he enjoys being engaged with on topics. He's well read, old enough to have a lot of worldly experience (though can sometimes feel lacking on emotional topics), and is very insightful as a person. Aboveall else, however… he loves listening. Can easily sit for hours just listening to a conversation, whether he's multi-tasking, or just sat. Doesn't matter if he understands the topic, doesn't matter if he has anything to add, but he will truly listen. It makes him happy to have things shared with him.

Xavier is about half and half on his conversation, he's naturally fairly lethargic and is happy for other people to fill quiet, or just sit in silence, or he can chat. Normally only for people he is close to, however. Is a very good listener, but also prone to asking the oddest questions. Is the type of person to ask the worm question, because he likes seeing what he gets in return. Is the quietest of the polycule though, easily just letting convos pass him by, or only chipping in with the occasional comment. The more upset he gets, the quieter he gets. Is, however, capable of dropping the most baffling comments or stirring the pot with gentle prods.

Zayne is reasonably talkative, and very verbose. He's obviously a smart man, but prefers the relaxation of his personal life to have some more of a childish or calm approach to his life. So unless it's needed, he doesn't want to talk about anything too complex in his day-to-day. Very jovial, even if his expression doesn't always match, and is happy to go toe to toe with topics or personality. Mirrors to some degree. Especially with MC. Has learned over time, how to be a little less formal with others, to help them relax.

MC goes through stages, they can be incredibly quiet for long periods of time, especially if they're post a rough mission, or having a rough day and overstimulated. Normally though once they get started on a topic of interest, comfortable with someone, or in a good mood, they can talk and talk and talk. They are more talkative through texts than they are in person, but it gets easier for them if they know the person. (The polycule get the bulk of it, along with Tara and Simone.)

Arguments?

Rafayel's version of arguments, as long as he is with people he cares about, is normally a process of going through the loud, irritated, sometimes yelling, until he reaches the ice cold, will say something to hurt you, in order to lash back when he feels uncomfortable or strong emotions.

He'll need one of two things to calm down, time to think and take space, or pulling back early enough that he realises he's hurting people. (MC is most successful with this, unless they're part of the argument.)

He clashes most with Zayne and Sylus. Sylus because the two are akin to cats and dogs, their arguments are very rarely serious, but they can get carried away, especially if Rafayel feels cornered. He clashes with Zayne because he doesn't take well to being told what to do in any form, even if it only comes from a place of concern. His arguments with Zayne have lessened a lot overtime, but his arguments with Sylus are still going strong.

It's possible he just enjoys sniping with the crow though.

Xavier doesn't really care enough to get into arguments, if he's bothered by something, it's jealousy above anything else. He'll get a stormcloud above his head, and it's the polycules job to help him clear it (or give him space to process it safely). His normal feelings of irritation come in the form of a pout, or a few grumbles, but if he sleeps it off, he's fine. So he tries not to really show his upset if he can, because it never lasts that long. King of bouncing back.

That said, he argues most with Zayne and MC. The arguments are rarely serious, Zayne's are normally about his bad eating habits, and come from a place of concern, but the way he shares them can often make Xavier feel like he's being belittled. His arguments with MC are about how he hides things, secrets, and doesn't share when he goes off fighting dangerous wanderers as Lumiere (or just as Xavier). These arguments are (seemingly) calm from Xavier's side, and fierce anger from MC. This can often result in them having to bench the conversation where they're talking past each other, and someone else will have to mediate.

Zayne tries to be cool as much as he can, he doesn't like raising his voice, he would rather not show anger, and he tries to approach people with a level tone. This doesn't always work, and sometimes he feels like an icy wasteland when he talks. Chilling and sarcastic. It can feel biting, and even if he doesn't want to exacerbate an argument, it can often have the opposite impact. (He sometimes also can't resist adding a dig, when he thinks someone is being extra foolish.)

He argues a lot with Rafayel and Xavier, and his arguments with Sylus fizzle out the most, because he has no interest in being a source of amusement for the man. His arguments always come from a place of concern. He wants people to take care of themselves, he worries about them, dislikes tending to wounds that are unnecessary.

When he argues, he needs either a mediator (MC if they're not involved in the argument, Sylus if he has to), or for the person he's arguing with to extend an olive branch. Is surprisingly stubborn about it (though it could also be because Raffy and Xavi both are not prone to just backing down on something.)

Sylus' form of argument can differ. The man can be either cool, and amused, enjoying his arguing partners emotional output in the same way someone would poke a wild animal to see what happens. Or he can be cold, deadly and dangerous. The latter very rarely comes out, it is only through extreme circumstances, or something he truly would not compromise on, that it happens. These situations make him scary, and can make him cruel. It does not come out with the polycule, and it is rare for even an enemy to get such a reaction. He deals with everything very calmly. (visibly at least). He does not raise his voice, but he will match someone barb for barb.

Argues mostly with MC and Rafayel. Though the second he gets a real display of pain or shock, especially out of MC, he'll realise it's serious and back up quickly. Until then, he enjoys verbally sparring. He only outwardly argues with someone without them starting it, when he is truly bothered by recklessness. If someone jumps in front of him to get hurt, if they do not listen when he tells them something. If he's not trusted in situations where he likely either knows best, or feels he does.

Will calm down quickly because it's never that serious, or will go away for a joyride to give himself some freedom to feel better, and then return to find another way forwards.

MC is fairly conflict averse, they have enough stress in their day to day that added strain often doesn't react well with their body. (Heart condition, general hunter lifestyle.). Arguments are often far calmer than when they are actually angry. Their anger manifests as a vicious serpent, and depending on the situation, it becomes sharp like a dagger, to stick under a scale and force it off. For arguments, they match energy normally. If the person they're arguing with is cold, they're cold back, (though it might not always last, as when they feel forced into a corner, they can get emotional against their will and overstimulated.), if the person yells, they'll yell back too.

They argue most with Xavier and Sylus. It is almost always about safety, about their injuries, about recklessness. They also argue over smaller things, like money being spent unnecessarily, Mephisto following them unnecessarily, if they're standing up for someone else but get carried away. To calm down, they have to leave the situation, and come back to communicate better. They will often do this with something written down to help them stay level headed and resolve a problem. They always want and give affection after.

[shesoutofhere]

With Perfection Comes Obsession

Hockey James Potter x Figure Skater Reader

Summary- You're back in the rink, training for a medal you lost out on the year before. Nothing is going to get in your way this year. Or so you think.

Warnings- Description of a panic attack, Unhealthy habits

Wordcount- 10k

Translation: Lapin - Rabbit

Ignore all typos <3

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

Spin

“Again”

Spin

“Again

Spin

“Again”

You hit the ice just as aggressively as you did the time before that. You're finding it hard to breathe and everything aches. 

“Again Lapin!”

You pump your legs, moving them fast and hard. You're mid-jump when you hear the shrieking of the arena buzzer. Thrown off, your footing is off and you fall to your knees. 

You hear your coach scoff, moving to get off the ice. You get up, wincing at the sting in your knees, that’ll be a nasty bruise. 

When you walk off the ice, Coach hands you your blade covers. You mentally prepare yourself for the lecture you’ll receive when you return to the locker room. 

You feel a tight grip on your arm. Okay, looks like you’ll get your lecture right here.

“Lapin, If you get distracted by a buzzer, what makes you think you’ll be fine in an arena full of people? Have you learned nothing from your last performance?” 

She asks you questions but doesn’t give you time to respond, she immediately cuts in. “And your jumps, how is it that you haven’t managed to master your jumps? You are well past the age to be scared of falling. Your hesitation will cost you this title.” 

Silence falls over the both of you, Coach has her hands on her sides and just stares. You know what she's doing. She’s thinking of how you’ll be punished for this oh-so-horrible performance today. 

“Tomorrow you will march yourself to the management office and ask for an extended time.”  

Your eyes go wide, “Coach, they’ll never give me more time. And what about my professors? They’re already at their wits end with me being gone all the time.”

Coach’s eyes sharpen, “I’m sorry, have your priorities changed? Am I wasting your time Lapin? Cause if that’s the case then say so, and may we be free of this doomed partnership.”

You cower under her stare, “No, no of course not Coach, I’ll talk to management tomorrow and see what deal I can work up with my professors.” 

Pleased with the conversation going her way, Coach smiles. “Good, I’ll see you soon.” 

With that, she saunters off, reaching for her phone to call god knows who.

When you’re sure she’s out of eyesight you slump down onto the bench next to you. You close your eyes and take a minute to finally catch your breath. You bring your hand to your chest, hoping to alleviate some of the tightness and discomfort. 

The bench shakes and you hear something hit the ground with a thud. You open one eye and close it again when you see who it is who’s disturbed your peace. 

“How oh how will you ever convince management to give you any more practice time?” 

You sigh, hoping that if you ignore the nuisance next to you, he’ll get the hint and leave you alone. 

“They won’t even give the team extra time, let alone one person.” 

You open your eyes and turn to look at the boy sitting next to you. “I can be very persuasive.” 

James, who’s lacing up his skates, mumbles a quiet “Don’t I know it.”

You stand up and gather your things. “Who Knows James, win some games and maybe you’ll get the extra time you need.” 

James pauses his movement, looking up at you with a deadly glare.

 It’s a sore subject and you know it. After Peter Pettigrew, one of the university's star players decided to transfer, James and the rest of the team have been dethroned. They’ve known no peace since then and are grappling with everything to win this season. 

James turns back to his laces. “Hey and maybe if you learn to stop being so skittish on the ice, you’ll land that jump for once Lapin.” 

This is why you’ll never feel bad for being so hostile toward James. He’s a wolf in sheep's clothing and you lose your mind every day knowing that everybody has fallen for his golden boy act. 

You throw your bag over your shoulder, swatting at the back of James' head on your way out of the arena. 

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

You’re pacing back and forth in front of the management office. You’ve gone over every possible excuse that could convince them to give you more time. You will convince them, or Coach will have your head on a platter. You’ll butter up the sweet old lady who works the front desk, you’ll dazzle her, and she’ll sign whatever she needs to. 

With one final pep talk, you walk into the office and freeze at the door. 

Shit. 

It’s not the sweet old lady. 

Sitting at the front desk is Remus Lupin. ‘This is fine’ you try to convince yourself.

You saunter up to the desk “Good morning Remus, you look fantastic today, do anything different with your hair?” 

Remus puts his book down, looking up with a sweet smile, “No, did the same thing I always do. How can I help you?” 

 You lean onto the counter and start messing with the pen jar. “You, my love, can sign off on my extra ice time.” you choose not to make eye contact, continuing to swivel the pens around the jar. 

Remus sighs, dragging your name out, “You know I can’t approve any more time for you, the school won’t allow it.” 

You stomp your foot out of habit, “ But Remus, I got all my professors to give me as many extensions as I need, really all I need is for you to say yes.” 

Remus, always bursting your bubble, “It’s not about class love, It’s about your health. You know how the system works.” 

You groan and bring your head down onto the counter. You knew this would be your biggest obstacle. All athletes have to adhere to certain rules. The university claims that it’s to protect the athlete's health but everyone knows it's so they don’t get backlash for overworking their student-athletes. You're allotted a certain amount of hours but anything over that has to be flagged and reported. 

“Listen,” Your head shoots up, “I can maybe convince them to a lot you a bit more time, but you’ve got to go to your physical therapy sessions. Doc has to report when you don’t show you know.”

“Okay yes, fine, I pinky promise that I will see Doc, and stretch and stay off the ice for 30 minutes after eating, and-” 

Remus cuts you off with a laugh, “Okay, okay I get it. I’ll talk to the board and see what I can do.” 

You squeal, reaching over the counter to smack a kiss on Remus’s forehead. “You are a lifesaver Remus Lupin.” 

Remus just shakes his head, “Yeah yeah, whatever, get out of here.” 

You happily skip out of the office, so happy, that not even running into James Potter in his gear could upset you. 

You offer a simple “James” and go to walk past him. 

“Woah, what's got you all happy?” 

You give him a sly smile, “Oh nothing, I’m just having a lovely morning.”

James furrows his brows at you, “Okayyy. Was Rem in the office?” 

You nod at him, “Yes, my sweet, beautiful, lovely Remus is in there. How he’s friends with the lot of you, I’ll never understand.”

James is insulted but is weirded out more than anything. 

Not caring to interact any further you wave goodbye. 

James, still confused, continues into the office. 

You don’t get far down the before James is yelling your name down the hallway. You roll your eyes, continuing on your way. You hear thumping and there’s a yank on your wrist. 

You yelp out of surprise. James without a word is dragging you back towards the office. You both enter and Remus is shaking his head. 

You rip your wrist out of James' grip, “I’d like that back thank you.” 

You smile at Remus, “Hi love, so good to see you again.” 

“Likewise.” 

James snaps his fingers, “Quit it you two, Remus just told me you’re getting more time on the ice.” 

“Why yes I am. I told you James, do better at your sport and good things come your way.” 

“Guys please don’t start. I don’t want to have to kick you out again,” Remus says.

James disregards your insult, “You can’t get more time, you’re already maxed out on hours, they’ll never approve it.”

You shake your head in faux symphony “Oh James, I told you I was very persuasive.” 

This seems to bring his attention back to his friend. “You” he points a finger aggressively toward Remus’s direction, “How could you say yes? You're the iron wall, no one shakes you down.”

Remus gives a weak shrug, “Okay, I wasn’t shaken down, we made a deal” 

James rolls his eyes, “Oh yeah, and what was that?”

“She’ll see Doc, every appointment, she has to go.” 

James looks confused. “How is that a deal? It's protocol.” 

“Wellll” Remus drags.

The look on James’ face darkens. His attention is on you now. “You don’t see the Doc?” 

You try not to be intimidated by his glare. “I just don’t see the point of seeing him after every practice. I mean come on, my body is my instrument, of course, I know how to take care of it.” 

Whatever lightness was in the air, is gone now. James is genuinely upset and you can’t wrap your head around why. 

“Are you kidding me, so what, you’ve just been skipping out on all your appointments?”

All you can do is shrug. Remus, who can sense the shift in the atmosphere, tries to intervene. “Look, I don’t even know if it’s a guarantee, I still have to ask the board.”

Your heart drops. “No. I need the time. You said you’d get me the time.” 

Remus, who has unfortunately been caught in both James and your fury, doesn't know how to turn this conversation around. 

“And what about your work, do you even go to class anymore?” 

“I’m doing great in all my classes.”

“That doesn't answer whether you're going.” 

“What does it matter? Virtual or not, It’s only until after the competition.” 

James takes his glasses off and rubs at his forehead like he’s trying to ward off an oncoming headache. “So, just like that, you get the time, extensions on school work, and a pass from all the appointments you missed with Doc.”

You sigh, “I don’t get it James, are you jealous, is that what it is?” 

This strikes a nerve in James. “You think that's what this is about?”

“Well” you throw your hands up, “what else could be?”

James puts his glasses back on and steps up to you, “You know what, if you want to overwork yourself and fuck up any chance you get at the actual competition, go ahead, seems like everyone is right behind you.” with that, James storms out the office. 

Remus walks out from behind the desk and gives a light squeeze to your shoulder, “I don’t understand why you two work each other up so much.” 

“He’s wrong,” you say quietly. Remus listens. “I’m better than I’ve ever been. I need this Remus, I need to win this. I need to show everyone that I can do it.” 

Remus, with a sad look in his eyes, pulls you in for a hug. “Everyone knows you can, you’re amazing.” 

You sigh and pull away. “It doesn’t matter how good I am, all everyone sees now is the girl who messed up last year. All my hard work was reduced to one stupid mistake. I have to get it right this time.” 

Remus just sighs, he’s seen this version of you before, and he doesn’t like where it’s going.

He grabs you by the shoulders, “Promise that you’ll go to Doc.” 

“Promise that you’ll get me my time.”

He sticks out his pinky, encouraging you to lock yours with his. You do. 

“Thank Rem” 

“Don’t make me regret love.” 

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

To everyone's surprise, the board does accept your request for additional time. You're ecstatic. Coach won’t show it but you know she’s semi-impressed. 

With the new time, the ending of your practice marked the beginning of the kid's ice class. Every time you did any sort of jump or spin you could hear a dozen little aws and wows. 

You felt fantastic, Coach was in a decent mood, and practice was long but the scary women had minimal feedback. For the first time in a long time, you felt on top of the world.  

“Okay, that’s enough for today.” 

You walk off the ice, putting your guards on. Coach gives you final pointers and is out of the building before you can say bye. 

You sat on the bench, undoing the laces of your skates when a group of the girls from before comes up to you. They flutter around you, asking all sorts of questions and giving endless praises. You’d be lying if you said that you didn’t feel your heart swell with pride and joy. 

You're talking about costumes when you hear your name being called. Standing towards the entryway are Doc and James. 

You knew this day was going to well, you had forgotten that today was your scheduled appointment with Doc. As for James, every time you see him your day is ruined. The two of you hadn’t spoken since the whole incident in the office. Remus had tried to get the both of you to make amends but neither of you had the intention of doing so. 

You put your slipper on and make your way over to pair. 

“Hey remember me? Long time no see.” You know Doc is trying to be silly but your heart beating faster at the mere thought of having to get checked up. 

The bespectacled figure clears his throat. “Haven't you heard Doc, our ice princess got more ice time so she's been pretty busy.”

You cross your arms. Reaching a hand to rest on your sternum, feeling a slight tug at every breath you take. 

Doc disregards James petty comment, immediately picking up on your discomfort. “You okay?” 

James looks puzzled, glancing back and forth between the two of you, looking for whatever he missed. 

You shrug. “Yeah, it's just, well..you know.” Doc just nods. 

“Know what?” James blurts out. From the look on his face, you can tell that he didn't mean to say that out loud. 

You frown, “It’s nothing.”

“It’s clearly something.”

“Okay, well it’s none of your business is it.” 

“OKAY,” Doc yells, cutting both of you off. “James I’ll do what we talk about, now move along.” 

James lingers for a bit before he finally walks off. 

“Now you” Doc starts, “Shall come with me.” 

You know that there isn’t any way to avoid this and follow right behind him. 

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

Doc makes small talk throughout your checkup. You give replies, trying your best not to come off like you don’t want to be there. 

You’re in the middle of doing a stretch when Doc says “So, are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” 

You lay on your back and bring a knee up to your chest, staring up at the ceiling. “Do we have to?”

Doc hums, “I think we should.”

You bring your leg down and lift the other to your chest “Okay, well then I guess.”

Doc stands at your side and offers a hand to bring you up from the ground. You sit on the ground and Doc sits in front of you. “I need you to know that what I did, was not only part of my job as your doctor but as someone who cares deeply for you lot.” 

You fidget with your fingers as Doc continues. “And I had to report the appointments that you were missing. I know you guys like to joke around with me but I am a healthcare provider before anything else and you can loathe me all you want but know my actions are never meant to harm you.”

Ugh, you feel like such an asshole now. “I don’t hate you Doc, I know you're just doing your job. I think-” you pause, trying to gather your thoughts, “I think in my head If I didn’t do my checkups, there wouldn’t be anyone to tell me that something could potentially be wrong.” 

Doc nods, and you continue “I should’ve listened to you back then, with or without the jump I would've lost anyway.” You say with a sad smile. “This time has to be different, I have to land that jump, I have to win this one.” 

Doc gives you an odd look. “I’ll be watching you like a hawk, you need to take care of yourself. I won’t watch you hurt yourself for this again, will you hate me then?”

You feel your body stiffen, you need this, so you think you might. 

“I mean it when I say this one is mine this year.” you have never been more serious in your life. 

“Oh trust me, I believe you.” 

It doesn’t have to be said, but you think that you and Doc might be a bit further apart than before. 

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

You’re counting down the weeks. The competition is getting closer with each day that passes. You’ve spent more time at the arena over the past couple of weeks than you have in your dorm. 

Practice isn’t until later today, but you ambushed Remus when he was walking into the rink this morning. 

Now here you are, skating freely in the dimly lit rink. Remus gets horrible migraines and chooses to leave the lights off for as long as he can. 

You glide across the rink, twisting and turning whenever you please. Some time has passed when you come to a stop. All you can hear is the sound of your labored breath. You do your breathing techniques, trying your best to regulate your heartbeat. 

Your nerves spike back up when you see James skating towards you and feel speed. 

He halts right in front of you. “Are you okay?” 

All you can do is nod, not being able to form words quite yet. James doesn’t say anything else for a while. He watches and waits as you catch your breath. 

When you seem to have calmed down he jumps to question you. “What on earth was that?” 

You shrug, “I just got a bit winded I guess.” He blinks at you, “That's not the first time it happened though.” 

James, always so annoyingly inquisitive. 

“I’m fine James, where the hell did you come from anyway? The rink isn’t open yet.” 

You both kick into a slow skate around the rink. “That's rich, considering you’re here too. Also, you forget that Remus is one of my best friends.”

“How could I forget, you remind me every time I interact with him.” 

“Well, that's because I can’t seem to understand what hold you’ve got over him. He folds instantly when it comes to you. You know I had to beg him for 20 minutes to let me in.” 

You give a triumphant smile, “Remus and I have a bond that exceeds any and all relationship types, I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

James scowls, ‘Stop talking about your special bond with Remus.” 

“Jealous?” 

“No!” James responded a bit too quickly. “More like deeply disturbed.” 

“Not as disturbing as you and Sirius,” you say, skating a bit faster to get ahead of him. 

“Hey! Don’t bring Sirius into this.” 

You tsk, “So quick to defend his honor. Tell him I’m still waiting on our date by the way.” 

“Oh please, Sirius goes on dates with anything that moves so don’t hold your breath.” Whatever honor and respect James had for his best friend earlier is out the window. 

You hum, not offering him a real response. James, changing the subject, “Was that a routine earlier?” 

“A routine with no music?” you ask sarcastically.

James rolls his eyes, “I'm just asking because it looked familiar.” 

Familiar? Why would it look familiar? 

“Spend your days off watching figure skating routines?” you say as you skate backward in front of him. 

He shakes his head, “No, just yours.” he doubles down quickly, “Well cause, we skate at the same rink and all that.” 

It’s too late, what he’s said has already gone to your head. You bring a hand to your heart mockingly, “The James Potter, Hockey legend, watches my routines. What an honor.”

James makes a face at you, “Oh whatever, forget I said anything.” 

You continue “I can’t believe I am skating with James Potter.” you say as you skate around him. 

James can’t help but laugh. “Okay quit it you’re gonna make me dizzy. God knows how you spin the way you do without throwing up.”

You continue at his side. “Years and years of practice.” 

“So, the routine, what's it from?” 

You let out a long sigh, “It was bits and pieces from my finals routine last year.” 

James says a quiet ‘oh’ 

“Mhm” is all you can offer back.

“I was there, you know?” James fidgets with his glasses. “Well, I mean, me and the whole team—half of the university, really.” 

This shocks you. You knew a lot of peers and locals from your university town showed overwhelming support, but for some reason, knowing James was there makes you…happy? 

��Well, you picked the worst one to turn up to.” You try to make a light-hearted joke, but it doesn’t work. 

James comes to a stop on the ice. You stop with him. “You really scared everyone.” 

You scoff, “More like disappointed everyone.” 

“No” James replies sharply, “I can assure you that no one in that arena was disappointed and you’ve got to stop thinking that.” 

You feel an argument brewing. “And what about you James? What did you feel? Please share with the gallery.”

“I-”  he pauses for a second. “I was scared too, and then I was angry.” 

“Angry?” 

He nods, “Angry. I was angry at you. I was angry that you’d attempt to do something so-” 

He cuts himself off, trying to restrain himself.

“Something so what James? Go on say it” You egg him on.

He yanks his glasses off his face, a habit he has when he’s frustrated. “Fine! Something so stupid. I couldn’t, for the life of me wrap my head around why you would purposely do something so stupid.” James doesn’t stop there. “I couldn’t understand why you would disregard Doc's orders. I was angry that you had such little regard for yourself and your body.” James throws his hands up,” and all for what?”  

You clench your fist tight at your side. You feel the anger flare up inside you. “All for what?” you laugh bitterly. “Is that how you see what I do?” 

James doesn’t respond. His silence only angers you more. “I did what I thought was necessary okay? I worked too hard all last year to just give it up. I made a mistake, I understand that, and I have spent every moment since then trying to make it up.”

You inch closer towards James, “Do you know how humiliating it is to have all my hard work be reduced down to one single mistake? I am perfect my whole career but the second I have one slip-up I'm stripped of all my wins, all my medals. Everything I’ve worked for, completely disregarded.”

James stares at you with wide eyes. “Is this what this is about? About ruining your perfect reign? Do you know how insane that sounds?”

You groan, “I could hold my tongue hearing this from anyone else, but you of all people James, Seriously? You are such a hypocrite.” 

James glares at you. “And what exactly are you alluding to?”

“You,” you say, shoving a finger in his chest, “are a hypocrite. You think I don’t see what you’ve been doing. Ever since Pete left you have been overcompensating, trying to fill a role all by yourself. The late night and early morning practices. Taking on extra responsibility on the ice. Spreading yourself thin to make it to nationals. 

“That’s different.” 

You laugh “How on earth is different James?” you can't believe this guy. 

“It’s different because It’s temporary until we find someone else. It’s different because I take care of myself. It’s different because it’s a whole team of us that care about each other. Yeah, I'm stepping up right now but I can always step back and rely on the guys if I need to. You, however, have..well you just don’t..” he sighs, “you’re alone.”

You back up from him, “You’re unbelievable.” you start skating to exit the rink. You hear James call after you. “Wait, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever James, just leave me alone.”

“Would you just let me explain?” he desperately calls out. You swivel around the ice quickly, turning to face him. You have a snarky remark to give but it's out the window when James fully runs into you. Before both of you can catch yourselves, you both fall onto the ice. 

You yelp out in pain when James falls right onto your foot. He’s off of you quickly. “Holy shit are you okay?”  

You don’t answer, attempting to stand up. When you put pressure on your right foot, a sharp pain shoots through your ankle. James must see the pain in your face, “I'm so sorry I didn’t think you were going to stop. Let me help you back.” 

You shake him off, “No it’s fine, I’m fine.” you go to kick off the ice and the pain brings you to your knees. James reaches for you but you push his hands away.

No no no, this can’t be happening. You feel your heart start to pick up. You can barely hear James over the ringing in your ear. You stand up one more time, pushing off with your left leg this time. You make it somewhere but when you push off your right leg out of habit you double over in pain. 

You hear James grimace from behind you. “Alright, that's enough.” James wraps your arm over his shoulder and takes most of your weight. You can’t deny him, having no other way to get off the ice. He glides the both of you to the exit. The second your feet reach the matted floors you push away from him and limp to the nearest bench. You're pulling and tugging at your laces aggressively. When your skate is loose enough you yank your foot out, crying out in pain. You roll your sock down both you and James gasp. You throw the skate that’s in your hand.

You bring your hands to your eyes, feeling that annoying sting. “Fuck!” This is not happening. You did not just ruin your chances for this year because of one little accident. 

“I have to get Remus.” you grip James' wrist stopping him in his tracks. “Absolutely not!” 

James tries to pull his wrist from you but you bring your other hand to grab at it. “Don’t say anything, please. I promise I’m fine.” James looks at you bewildered, “Are you insane? Your ankle is purple.” 

“I bruise easily. I promise it's fine.” 

“Walk on it.” 

What. “What?” 

James shrugs, “Walk on it. Walk from here to those bleachers.” 

You go stand up, his eyes never leaving you. You take your first step and feel the same sharp pain you flinch but take your next step. You take step after step, pushing through the blinding pain. You make it to the bleachers and turn to face James. “See, it’s fine.” 

James stares at you in disbelief. He walks up to you “You are unbelievable.” He grits out. 

James leaves without saying anything else. Leaving you in the dark arena. 

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

It’s been three days. You managed to convince Coach to give you time off, telling her that you had some projects to catch up on. Pleased with your recent performance, she reluctantly granted you some free time. No practice meant no Doc visits. Three days and radio silence from James. You were so sure that he would've said something to someone by now but you aren't called in for any meeting or evaluations. 

Three days later and your ankle is still purple and throbbing. You’ve taken way too many painkillers for it to be safe but it’s your first day back and you have to act like you feel fine. 

You walk into the building. You put on a smile and are prepared to give the best performance of your lifetime. Coach is already standing by the ice. You go towards the locker rooms but you stop when she yells your name. 

She looks annoyed when you walk up to her. “Hey Coach” 

She puts her phone down. “Look, they are cutting into your time today because they have to get the ice ready for the game tonight. I’m going to need you to do a quick warm-up and get right into running the routine. Jumps and all.” 

You nod, “Yes ma’am.” 

You put your bag down on the bench and start getting ready. You’re lacing up your skates when you hear a chorus of laughter. You lift your head to see James, Remus, and Sirius all chit-chatting while exiting the office hallway. Sirius catches your eye and you’re too slow to look away. He’s caught you. 

“Lapin!” 

Oh god. 

You hear them make their way over. 

“Where have you been? We haven’t seen you in ages.” 

You yank tightly at your laces and wrap them around your ankle. “Oh don’t exaggerate. It was only three days.”

Sirius scoffs, slouching down onto the bench next to you. “Yeah, that’s forever for you. I feel like lately you’ve been here every day.” you roll your eyes at him. 

“I had schoolwork to catch up on.”

Remus hums, “Look at you. Working hard.” 

You lean back on the bench. “What can I say? Anyway, I’m back. Try not to stare too hard Sirius.” 

Sirius' shoulder bumps you. “Hey, what about Remus?” 

You stand up, “You my darling.” pointing a finger at Remus. “Can stare as long and hard as you’d like to.”

There is a slight tinge of pink on Remus’s face but he laughs it off. “Quit you two.”

Your attention turns to James clearing his throat. This whole time he hadn’t said anything, just staring at you, analyzing your every move.

The two of you stare at each other, tension thick in the air. He drags his eyes slowly down your body. Any other person would think he has no shame but you know it’s nothing like that. You know exactly what he’s looking for. James' eyes linger on your ankle, mostly hidden by your skates. 

James tilts his head, “Hmm” 

Sirius and Remus, having no idea what's going on, simply stand there. 

“Hmm? That’s all you're gonna say?” 

Jamea shrugs. “What else is there to say? Everythings fine.” 

For the past three days you’ve done nothing but worry about James snitching on you. It’s brought you nothing but stress and anxiety. Why hasn’t he said anything?

You open your mouth to say something. “Yeah sure everythi-”

“Lapin! On the ice. Now!” 

James continues staring at you. If he thinks you’re going to crack, he’s going to be waiting for the rest of the day. 

You walk away with as much ease and poise as you can. 

The pain in your foot isn’t gone. You’ve got a purple bump to prove it but you’ve taken enough pain meds to hold off some of the pain for now. You skate around the ice, warming up. Every time you kick off you feel the twinging pain but do your best to ignore it. Coach doesn’t let you warm up for long. 

“Lapin, run the routine.” 

You’re heart drops, you didn’t think she’d get straight into it but she must want to take advantage of the time you had on the ice. 

You take a deep breath, already feeling the normal burning sensation in your lungs. You get into position. You steady yourself into your starting pose. You lock eyes with James. They’re all leaning onto barriers. Neither of you breaks eye contact. Finally, you hear the starting notes of your music and begin. You kick off beautifully, moving across the rink in a matter of seconds. You glide elegantly across the ice. The music begins to swell, the first jump is coming up. You breathe in, brace yourself, and jump. You spin, almost landing perfectly. There is a bit of wobble but nothing you can't make up in the next couple of jumps. You continue your program. You jump again. Spinning and landing. This one is perfect, no wobble. You keep moving, swelling with pride. You can’t see anyone but the lack of yelling lets you know that Coach is somewhat satisfied with the jumps. You push on, beginning to feel the pain in your foot. You ignore it as best you can. It’s when you're landing your third jump that the pain shoots up through your ankle. It leaves you breathless for a second but you compose yourself. You skate, you skate and skate and skate until you hear yelling over the music. 

“Get her off the ice right now!” 

You bring yourself to a stop. You look over to the commotion and see the coach with Doc. Standing right next to both of them is James. 

You stay on the ice, trying to catch your breath. 

It’s Coach's turn to yell at you. “Lapin, come here right this instance.” 

Your heart continues beating quickly. You make your way over and when you're at the exit, Coach is pulling you by the arm, heading straight for the benches. 

“Sit.” 

You look between her and Doc, you can’t even bear to look at James. 

“What on Earth is going on?!” 

“Take your skates off!”

“Excuse me?”

“Skates. Off. Now.” 

You reach to slowly start untying your skates. It doesn’t matter how slow you move. They all sit and wait.

Once they’re both off Doc kneels and reaches for your ankles immediately.

“Woah what the hell are you doing?”

“Which one James?”

Your head snaps towards James. You’re caught, you know it, but if James says something now you’ll hate him for the rest of your life. 

James must see it in your face. He’s silent for a second.

“Which one is James? I'm not going to ask again.” 

James looks away and answers. “The right one.” 

Without another second wasted, Doc is yanking your sock down, revealing a swollen purple ankle. Both Doc and Coach gasp. 

“Lapin, what the hell were you thinking?” 

You scramble to save this. “It’s not as bad as it looks! I promise!”

You look between Coach and Doc and all you see is pure disappointment. Coach runs a hand through her hair.

“Why? Why are you so adamant about hurting yourself? Do you not realize that you could mess this up beyond repair. What will you do then?”

Your eyes start to sting and you feel them watering up. “I didn’t mean to. It was a stupid accident.”

“Well, that’s exactly my point. You are a star athlete. What are you doing having stupid accidents? You are meant to be taking care of yourself.”

You feel the tears begin to fall. “Oh, now you care? Where was this lecture when you let me skate last year? Or how about all the times I skipped my appointments? How many appointments did you let go unattended? How many times did you look the other way?” 

You stare at your coach in anger and she looks right back at you with a look you can’t place. 

Doc cuts in. “We need to get it checked out.” You go to stand up and Doc tries to help you immediately. “You really shouldn’t be walking on it.” 

“I’ve been doing it just fine.” 

Doc shakes his head and reaches to help again. “I mean it. I don’t want you walking on it. James can you come hel-” 

You cut him off immediately. “Absolutely not. I said I’m fine. I can walk by myself.” 

Realizing that he can’t stop you, Doc lets you start making your way to his office. James follows behind immediately, calling you names. You ignore him but he won’t stop. He grabs your arm. You hear him quietly beg “Please, can you just listen.” 

You yank your arm out of his grasp. “I never want to hear from you again, James Potter. I hate you.” you spit out venomously. James displays a clear look of hurt. You leave him there, making your way down the hall alone.

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

After a thorough investigation, Doc diagnoses you with a bad sprain. It would have been fine if you had sought medical help immediately, or so he says. You don’t speak if you don’t have to, only offering quiet yes’s and no’s. 

Doc is finishing up when you do finally speak a full sentence. “When am I cleared to skate again?” 

Doc sighs, like who knew the question was coming. “Well, that’ll be up to you.”

He moves around the room, gathering things for your kit while speaking. “You wanna get better fast, you’re gonna have to take care of that ankle.” he walks over, handing you the kit and paperwork. “That means no agitating it, no skating, and definitely no competition.” 

You knew this was coming but hearing it breaks your heart. You feel your eyes start to water again. 

“Look,” Doc starts. “I'm really sorry. I knew how much this meant to you.” His words go in one ear and out the other. You silently stand up and grab all your things. You can’t bear to be in this rink anymore. You reach for the newly prescribed crutches and adjust yourself. Doc watches silently. You whisper a quiet thank you and goodbye. You make your way out of the building, trying your best to ignore all the stares. The rink, now busy with people waiting for the upcoming game. 

Everyone pushes to get in when you want nothing more than to get out. Every look you receive is filled with pity that you don’t want. You finally make it out, trekking through the parking lot to get to your car. Once you're in you turn it on and drive in silence. When you're in your dorm you head straight to bed. Holding onto one last hope that all of this is just a dream. 

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

You know you shouldn’t be here. Well, technically nothing is stopping you from being here. But with Coach currently giving you the cold shoulder, Doc banning you from skating, and James on your hate list, Coming to the rink might not be the smartest of ideas. 

That is why you are here right now, at night. You’ve been out for over a week and feel like you’ve been going stir-crazy in your room. Technically the rink is closed. It has been for the past three hours. However, you know Burnie, the maintenance man, doesn’t leave until a while after. 

You’re shaking in the cold when you see him walk out the front, going to lock it. He smiles when he sees you. You can't help but smile back. “Hey Burnie.” 

“Hey sweetheart” He greets you with just as much enthusiasm as always. “Whatcha doing here?”

“I forgot a couple of things in the locker room. Thought it might be time I come and get it.” 

He eyes you suspiciously. You can’t help but laugh. “Burnie I promise I’m just here for some things. Look, no bag, no skates,” you say as you spin in a circle for him.

He reaches to steady you. “Woah okay now. Be careful on that foot.” he sighs. “Alright sweetheart, I'm gonna trust you on this, run in and grab your things and I’ll wait for you right here.” 

“What, Burnie no. I'm not gonna make you wait out here in the cold. Plus you shouldn’t have to stay a second later. I already feel bad keeping you right now.” 

Burnie’s still wavering. You sigh. “Look Burnie, I’m in a boot and I don’t know if you know this but these are a pain to take off. Both literally and physically. I just need to grab my things but I don’t want you waiting out here on me when you could be halfway home.”

“Fine. You’ve convinced me. Don’t let me find out that you were skating or we're gonna have some problems, sweetheart.”

You giggle pointing at your boot. “Burnie, I already told you I can’t.” 

He waves a hand, walking away. “Knowing you? You’d find a way. There are keys in Remus's desk. Lock the front door when you're done.” 

“Sir yes Sir.”

You make your way into the lockers, finding your bag of things that you always leave here. You grab it and walk out to the rink. You slump down onto the bench. You start rummaging through your bag. You smile as you find all sorts of knick-knacks. 

You pull out what you were looking for, your old skates. You smile fondly as you remember the skating you did in them. Your happiness morphed into sadness when remembering the people who bought you the skates. You hadn’t seen your parents since you moved out to college. Your skating was too mediocre for them to fly out and watch. You remember every single time they turned down your invitations, telling you it would be “A waste of time”.

 How could that be? You had everyone telling you you’re the best skater they’ve seen in ages. You have a world champion for a coach. You have so many people coming out to watch you. How can you have all of that and it still not be enough to make your parents see you? 

This is why you had to be fantastic. You were supposed to be perfect this year and the last and you ruined it. You still hadn’t told your parents about your injury. You could still hear your mother on the phone from last year. The disappointment, the lack of worry for her child, and worst of all, her deadpan voice muttering into the phone, “What did we expect, knowing you.” 

You’re squeezing the skates tightly, you feel your breath pick up. You pinch your eyes shut. Nonono this cannot be happening. You know this feeling all too well. You put your hands over your ears and bring your head down. You feel the familiar tightness in your chest. You try to breathe in and out but your airways feel constricted. You sit up and start rummaging through your bag looking for an inhaler. You find one and pull it out, panicking more when you realize that it’s out of pumps. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. Hearing the heavy thump over and over again. You get up. You know you have one in your car, you just have to make it out there. 

You start walking, trying your best to slow down your breathing. You can start to see the light coming from the front when you hear someone unlocking the door. You walk around the corner, fully expecting to see Burnie who’s come back to kick you out. You freeze when the person turns around. 

You and James both stop in your places both gasping in shock. 

“Jesus Christ you scared the shit out of me,” he says with a hand over his heart. 

You don’t have time for James, so you walk right past him. James takes your silence as an insult.

“Are you still ignoring me?” you don’t answer, you fumble to get the keys out of your pocket. Reaching to unlock the door. When you do, you book it out to the parking lot. You can hear James following you. 

“Seriously, you don’t show up for a week and then I find you here in the middle of the night. What were you doing anyways?” he continues behind you. James' tone changes, seeming to land on the only possible explanation. “You were skating weren’t you?” you get your car keys out of your pocket and start clicking on the unlock button over and over again. 

“God” he scoffs, “You’re insane. That has to be the only explanation.” whatever else James says you can’t hear. The pain in your chest is unbearable and you start to cough at the lack of air in your lungs. The cold makes every sharp inhale burn. You finally make it to your car and swing the back door open. You jump in, yanking your bag out from under the seat. You dig through it and pull your inhaler out. You bring it to your mouth and inhale instantly.  

You sit up, breathing in. Your eyes are closed but you can hear James' shoes scuff to a stop right outside your open door. You stay like this for a while. You finally feel your heart start to slow and the burning in your chest is subsiding. You open your eyes and see James staring back at you with wide eyes. 

“Holy shit you have asthma?” 

His complete 180 in emotions gives you whiplash. 

“Yes you dickhead, I have asthma.”

James completely disregards the insult. “You had asthma this whole time. That's what Doc was asking about right? Or that time on the ice? When you get winded?” 

You just nod.

“Yeah, you’re definitely insane.”  you lean forward to smack his arm. “Quit calling me crazy!”

James rests a hand on the top of the car, leaning in, getting a better look at you in the back seat. 

“I’m not calling you crazy. I’m calling you insane.” 

You cross your arms. “So what, I have asthma. Plenty of athletes have asthma,” you say, looking up at him. 

James runs a hand through his hair. “That isn’t the point. I just wish- If you could just-” Without another word he’s getting into the backseat, pushing you over to make room for him. 

James clears his throat. “Listen, I’m going to say something and I need you to listen.”

Whatever you're about to say, James doesn’t let you. “Promise. Promise you won’t say anything until I’m finished talking.”  You stare down at James' hand, pinky extended, waiting for yours. 

You wrap your pinky around his. He drops his hand but keeps his finger interlocked with yours. You don’t pull away. 

“I think you should take a break from skating.” 

 You roll your eyes. You push away from James but his pinky tightens around yours. 

“Wait! You promised you’d listen.”

He’s got a desperate look on his face. “I watch you.” 

“James what?”

“Okay no, but yes.” He clarifies. “God I’m really bad at this. What I want to say is that I notice you okay? The second you started skating here I noticed you.” 

“You are frustratingly good on the ice. You’ve gotten title after title and it's got everything to do with you” James looks down, fidgeting with your joint pinkies. Ears red. “But ever since your incident last year you’ve gotten so…” he trails off looking for the right word. “Aggressive” 

“You’ve gotten so aggressive with your technique, on the ice, and with yourself. There’s something different about you. Everyone thinks it's a newfound determination but I can see it in your eyes, it’s something else. You skate with no regard for your body. What happens when you push it too far? What happens when you force yourself so hard that your body gives up on you? What will you do then?” 

The silence is heavy over you both. You look at James and he looks back at you with so much emotion, searching for an answer.

You let out a shaky breath. “What am I if I can’t skate? Can you tell me, James?” 

He stumbles over his words, clearly thrown off by your question. He comes up blank. 

“Exactly. Skating is all I have, it’s all I am.”

James shakes his head. “No, that isn’t true.”

You let out an exasperated laugh. “Do you think I’d be here right now if it weren’t for my skating? I’m here because it’s what I'm good at. I have so many people betting on me, so many expectations to uphold, so many people to prove that I’m worth it.” 

James leans in closer and speaks gently. “Why do you think that you aren’t already the best? Why is it so hard to believe that you are amazing at what you do?” 

His gentle tone does little to comfort you. He doesn’t get it. “If I’m so great how come my parents won’t come to see me?” you yell, your tone coming off harsher than you had intended. 

You recognize the emotion behind James' stare, it’s pity and you hate it.

You can’t bear to look at him, embarrassed by your outburst. 

“Hey,” you keep your gaze towards your lap. 

“Hey, look at me.” you feel his hand come under your chin as he lifts your face to meet his eyes. 

He unlatches his pinky from yours and brings his hand up to hold your face. 

“Is that what it is, you feel like you’ve got a crowd to appeal to? Well, guess what? You don’t owe anyone anything. You skate because you love it not because you feel the need to meet intangible expectations. If your parents can’t see how good you are then that's on them, you don’t need them.”

You groan and reach for his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face. “That's easy for you to say.” 

James furrows his brows at that, “What’s that supposed to mean.” 

“You have your parents here offering you endless support. No offense, but you could sit out an entire game and they’d still whoop and holler about how proud they are of you. You have a team that worships the ground you walk on. You have Remus and Sirius. What do I have? Who do I have? Coach?” You raise a hand to wipe away your tears but it’s no use. “I’m a thousand miles away from everything and everyone that I love. Being good, no, being fucking fantastic is the only way to get their attention. So if that’s what I need to be then so be it.” 

You let out one shaky breath and it all breaks loose. You bury your head in your hands, trying to muffle whatever mess you look like from James. After a short moment of sobbing into your hands, you feel hands pull at your arms. Before you know it, James is pulling you into a warm embrace. 

The angle is a bit awkward, considering the size of your backseat but he still manages to get his arms wrapped around you. Your head lands on his chest, ear pressed against it. You stiffen at first but slowly wrap your arms around him. You both sit in silence. He gently runs a hand up and down your back, while the other rests on the back of your head, holding it. You listen to the beat of his heart, which moves rapidly. You can’t help but smile slightly. Despite being the one to make a bold gesture, he’s the nervous one. 

“You aren’t as alone as you think.” 

“What?” You go to lift your head but James pushes it back onto his chest. Heart beating quicker.

“You're Not alone. You have Sirius and Remus, just as much as I do if not more. They adore you a little too much. And whether you believe it or not you have Doc and just about everyone else who you cross paths with in the rink.” 

He clears his throat for the next one. “And you have me.” 

It’s said so quickly you almost miss it. You’re sure you would’ve if you weren’t so close to him.

You go to lift your head again but he pushes it back down. You groan. “James.”

He doesn’t respond. You go to move but he holds you in place again. “James Potter, let me look at you.” 

He doesn’t budge, “I’d rather you didn’t” 

“James, if you don’t let me move, so help me god.” 

Your tone seems to do it. His hand slips from where it rested on your head. Once you get a good look at him, you almost laugh at the sight in front of you. James Potter, Red in the face, with a look of embarrassment so bad, he could die. He looks everywhere but at you. Eyes darting around the car.

“James”

“Yes?”

“Look at me.”

He does for a second and then looks away.

“James,” you say sternly.

“Yes?” He says picking at the seats.

Without putting much thought into it you smack both hands on his face, forcing him to look at you. You seemed to surprise him more than yourself. James stares at you with wide eyes. You’d done it without thinking and how you have no course of action. 

You both blink at each other. 

“What was it that you said just now?” 

He doesn’t turn away this time. That's progress. “What were we talking about?” he says with a dazy voice. You look at him expectantly. James, who realizes he has nowhere to go, blurts it out. 

“I said that you have me. There. Happy?” he doesn't stop there. “I said you have me because you do. All the time, every day I'm thinking about you, which is crazy considering how much you berate me. But that must be it. I must be crazy because I love it all the same. I care about you, even though half the time you make me want to slam my head into a locker, I care. So, yes, you have me.”

Through your hands, you feel the heat of his face. Despite the strong blush and red ears, James looks at you so earnestly that you can’t help what comes next. 

Hands still on his face you pull him forward into a kiss. He freezes and you pull away. Just for a split moment, you worry that you made a mistake. But before you know it James surges forward, reconnecting your lips. Whatever hesitation there was before, is gone now. 

His lips move against yours slowly, tentatively, exploring. You feel a finger trace the line of your jaw. Then the hand slips behind your head, bringing you closer. The sweet kiss now deepened with the hunger shared between you both. You raise your arms to wrap around his neck. You feel like you can’t breathe but you don’t stop.

With his newfound confidence, James moves forward. Your back hits the seat and James hovers over you now. He moves to lay himself over you. You feel his hand running up and down your side. You gasp into the kiss when a cold hand slips under your shirt, resting on your bare waist. James groans at the feeling of your bare skin, squeezing your side. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears. You don’t want to stop, ever. But the more James runs his hands over you and kisses you with an insatiable passion, the less you can breathe.

 You ignore it at first, but the aching in your chest only gets stronger. You feel like you’re drowning, and you decide that hyperventilating while making out isn’t the way to go so in one swift motion you sit up, pushing James off of you. 

You breathe in harshly. James now sits up straight, staring at you wide-eyed, glasses askew. You laugh but it sends you right into a coughing fit. You start to panic a bit and search for your inhaler. James snaps out of his daze and seems to get the memo. After what feels like forever, James lifts the inhaler. “Got it” he yells triumphantly. 

Snatching it from his hand, you take a couple of puffs, breathing in and out slowly. 

“Woah. I guess you could say I took your breath away.” 

You shoot him a look but can’t help but burst out laughing. James' laugh follows.

“No, seriously though. Are you okay?” 

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a bit winded.”

James smirks, seemingly a bit too proud. “Sorry about that,” he says with fake sympathy.

“Sorry about what? Trying to eat my face off or trying to take me in the back of my car?”  

James' face goes bright red. You don’t understand how he can be so confident yet so easily embarrassed.  

“I-I okay, woah, I-” He stutters over his words.

“Gosh James, I thought you’d have a bit more class than that.” 

He scoffs, “I have plenty of class and I don’t think I heard any complaints from you.” 

You shrug, “Could’ve been better.” 

James' jaw falls open in disbelief. “Oh really now.”

“Yup” 

Before you know it he’s bringing you down to your back and you let out a yelp of surprise. 

“Well since you’re so great I guess you’ll have to help me practice.”

You hum. “Oh yes, you’ll need all the practice you can get.” 

James lets out a loud laugh, making your heart flutter. “Yeah, well let's hope you don’t have to reach for your inhaler every 5 minutes.”

You smack his shoulder. “Hey! I am a star athlete. I don’t think a little acti-” 

James cuts you off, bringing his lips to yours. This time it's soft and sweet. James pulls away. “Talking to you is going to be a lot easier now that I can do that.”

“Keep talking and that’ll be the last time you get to do that.”

James nods quickly. “Yes ma’am. Message received.” 

With a nod from you, James is back on you. He leans into you heavily, moving his lips with yours. You reach up for his glasses, feeling them start to dig into your face. James' hand comes to your wrist, stopping you. Pulling away, he rushes out a ‘wait!’

You look at him confused. “What?”

“Don’t take them off.”

“James, as much as I love your glasses, they’re digging into my face.” 

James blinks at you with a slight pout on his face. “I can’t see anything when I take them off.”

“Okay?” 

He sighs, “I can’t see you when I take them off.” 

You roll your eyes at him. “James Potter you are such a sap.” 

He rolls his eyes back at you. “Yeah, well you’ll just have to deal with it.”

“I suppose I will. Okay they can stay on”

James smiles brightly. “Yay! Now shut up and let me kiss you.”

And who are you to deny him?

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

“Alright, you guys did great today! Don’t forget to tell your parents that there won't be any classes next week.” you hear a chorus of answers promising they will. Considering you’re talking to a bunch of toddlers, you make a mental note to send out an email. 

You guide them off the ice and towards their parents, waving bye to them all. 

You’ve been helping teach the toddler class while their coach is out of town. Doc hadn't fully cleared you but gave you the green light to teach the little ones.

You make your way towards the office to drop off the sign-in forms. When you walk in, you’re greeted by a smiling Remus. 

“Hello, love. How are the tots?”

You give him a tired smile, “Rambunctious as always.”

Remus laughs, taking the papers from you. “You think you’d take this opportunity to get away from this place but no.”

You lean forward on the counter. “And miss out on seeing you every day? No way.” 

Remus shakes his head, turning away from you. Ears slightly pink. “You’re insufferable.” 

Before you can respond you hear someone else enter the office. More like two someones.

James and Sirius walk over to where you’re talking to Remus. James' eyes shift from you to Remus’ red ears and then back to you.

“Hey, I thought I told you to stop flirting with Remus.” He says with a slight frown. 

You shrug, “I’ve done no such thing.”  

James rolls his eyes. “Yeah right. Liar.”

Sirius and Remus erupt in laughter as James pouts. 

Sirius ruffles James' hair. “Oh James, it’s sweet that you think you can stop whatever it is they’ve got going on.” 

James huffs, pointing at Remus. “You’ve got to stop whatever alluring charm you’ve got going on.”

Sirius laughs harder. Remus gives James a cheeky smile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just myself.” 

You swoon dramatically at his words. “Oh, Remus.” 

“Hey! No, don't swoon!” James says, looking frantically between the two of you. 

Remus and Sirius roar in laughter at his reaction. 

With the other two still laughing, James walks over to you. You give him a sweet smile. 

He frowns at you. “Why do you insist on giving me a hard time?”

“Someone's got to keep you on your toes, humble you a bit.” He glares at you but breaks into a smile of his own. 

With Sirius and Remus now wrapped up in their own conversation, James leans in a bit closer. 

“Hm, humble me? How can I be humble when you’re praising me all the time when we-” You slap a hand over his mouth, blushing furiously. You feel him smirk against your hand. 

He reaches for your wrist, pulling your hand away, giving it a soft kiss. “How were the lessons?” He says changing the subject.

“They were great. Lenny didn’t cry at all this time.” 

He gives you an encouraging pat on the waist. "Nice, and what about your foot?” 

You shrug, “It feels fine. I think stretching before ice time helps.” 

James smiles. “You’ve been doing the stretches?” 

You nod. He gives you a high five “That's my girl.” 

He goes silent, looking between you and his friend's chit-chatting. He leans in, whispering into your ear. 

“Hey, when's your appointment with Doc again?”

You think for a minute. “Um, not till this afternoon, why?” 

“So you’re free right now?”

“Yeah”

“What a coincidence, so am I.” He says with a mischievous look in his eyes. 

A moment pauses.

“Well. What are you waiting for?” 

James springs into action. His hand grabs yours, leading the both of you out of the office. 

“Hey, where are the two going?” 

Without turning around James yells out “Practice” You can’t help but laugh at the confused responses you get from Sirius and Remus. 

James continues down his path, determined.

“Wait James, what about my bag and my-”

He pats the side of his bag. Hanging from a chain is one of your backup inhalers. You stare at him in shock. With a quick kiss on the forehead and a cheeky smile, James continues to drag you both out of the rink. 

Practice does ensue. 

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

A present to you all for being MIA.

I pinky promise I'm working on the Peter series!

[eldritch-spouse]

Fucking robot. Why does he always bother me during breaks? He doesn't even need breaks.

“Hi Xavier. Was there something that you needed?”

You know he likes you because he bothers to address you by your name. As opposed to a serialized string of numbers and letters.

The numbers before your shift code and initials make you wonder just how many of them there were before you. How many he tossed away after an unfortunate workplace accident. That tag on your uniform is more of a death sentence than anything.

'Like'... As if this tin can is actually able of feeling.

It's more realistic to say he sees value in you, for some reason, and employs some kind of social algorithm to fabricate a twisted sort of relationship.

" You have been consistently distracted lately. "

Is that a warning?

Two red abyss-like orbs cast a crimson filter upon your face. It always feels like Xavier is watching you a little too closely, monitoring more than just your verbal responses.

" Ah, my bad! " You force a wobbly smile. " I promise it doesn't get in the way of my wo- "

" It does. " He silences you immediately, imposing and unforgiving in his cold corrections. " Clients notice when you zone out. Your movement speed is drastically reduced and the chances of committing errors -which you have by now- is considerably increased. Spacing out this much is in no way acceptable behavior for a multitude of... "

Only the very real notion that he's noting your facial expressions stops you from rolling your eyes at the robot's tireless monolog regarding the dangers and consequences of being distracted at work. One of your eyes still manages to twitch, as if in defiance.

" Yes sir, I understand. " You try to cut in, try to abort that speech before it turns into a whole lecture.

One camera cranes down slightly. " Your reputation as the exemplary employee is being damaged. "

Xavier says this like it should make you anxious. You hate that he thinks of you as an example, that he emphasizes it constantly. Not only is it putting unnecessary pressure on you for no compensation, it's also costing you the few mild friendships you have worked to maintain in this hostile minefield of an environment.

The more he speaks of you as some ideal of professionalism, the more others give you judgemental side-eyes. Sneers. Avoid you. Spread snide comments that then find their way to you through gossip.

Maybe if Xavier stopped exalting your mediocre performance, your asshole coworkers would stop murmuring that you've been orally pleasing the glorified microwave.

Xavier doesn't even have a dick! Why would he?! He's an artifical stand in for a manager that only cares about the dehumanizing process of maximizing profit.

He doesn't have a penis. You think.

You only realize a long silence has installed itself this whole time when the robot breaks it.

" ... Are you ill? "

" Huh- No. No, I just have a lot on my mind. I'll work on it boss. "

There's another pause. This time, you presume Xavier is waiting for you to cave under pressure, or counting the pores on your complexion. You bet he'd know the exact number.

" You have not allowed access to more in-depth medical records. If I had such a permission, I would be able to rework your current shift into something more suitable for any preexisting conditions such as- "

" Uh no sir, no. I don't think that's relevant, it's probably just my sleep schedule. " The thought of Xavier knowing about your health beyond what is strictly necessary for employment is chilling to the core.

He takes the rejection silently, lenses refreshing.

" I know who is bothering you. "

Xavier says, so naturally and spontaneously that you gawk for a moment, forever surprised by his eery bursts of casual remarks.

" ... Pardon? "

These moments make it seem as if there's more than mere cold calculations running through his processor components.

Xavier drifts that much closer to you, now suffocating your personal space. Only the crimson of his camera lenses light the dingy alley you've chosen as your break spot.

" Incubus, Babesley. Masseur. He has self-inflicted carvings on his body consisting of infatuated statements and your name. "

You rattle for a second, the memory of the demon's mutilated chest surfacing, his wild and desperate eyes searching yours for a hint of approval that wasn't there, only disgust and fear.

" Wrathfolk, Mozgrag. Trapper. Teamed up with the incubus upon being confronted, effective in forcing his way to you at any cost. "

Another memory flashes by, burly hands carelessly tearing the horns out of someone's head, he'd look at you when the screams rang, attempting to prove something you only saw as terrifying murderous intent.

Shaken, irritated, afraid, you openly glare at Xavier.

" Why haven't you done anything... " It was too quiet to sound as confrontational as you wished.

There's a split second where his stiff arms twitch, like the machine was trying to roll its shoulders. Cameras tilt and reposition, erroneously assuming the light from his lenses is what's causing you to tear up.

" The customer is always right. " Faintly, or perhaps just in your head, his words sounded dragged out.

" Then what's the problem?! "

You can't help the childish irritation, the desire to pluck your hairs out of your scalp in a pull that might just tear your skin asunder. You want to scream and kick this stupid fucking machine until it shuts off. Why does he bother you during your breaks to ask things that make no sense, to unnerve you, to create contradictions. You've never had a positive interaction with this robot. Why would he mention those two if he seemingly has no problem with their attitudes?

You know he doesn't care, because your coworkers are also living through their own cases of harassment at the hands of the denizens of Hell. You've had to pretend you didn't hear the sound of a cashier's arm being twisted in all the wrong directions before. Reminded that quitting is not an option, that you can only pray such doesn't happen to you.

" Your performance- "

No. Shut up.

" Okay, let's do some math, Xavier. " You growl. " My precious work performance is being impacted by a lot of things, but mainly those two. Those two are customers, and the customer is always right, aren't they? So there's nothing to be done, yeah?! Stop- "

Your confidence begins to falter when you realize you've stepped out of line, that you snapped at your own superior. The fear of consequences flashes very briefly across your eyes. That's enough, you need to calm down. You need to leave.

Xavier's silence doesn't help.

" I'll... I'll be heading back to work now. "

Head hanging low, you attempt to swiftly retreat into work, halted quickly by cold metal wrapping around your arm.

His grip is as frighteningly solid as it is sudden.

You don't remember Xavier having ever touched you before.

When you squirm around to glance at him, ask what he thinks he's doing, those two cameras pin you into silent obedience. You could never hope to free yourself of his grasp, only if you wished to tear a limb out of its socket.

" Do you think I enjoy these limitations? "

There's a mute gasp. Then the pain of his grip tightening, restricting your blood flow into a tingling soreness. Your teeth bare themselves.

" I don't think you enjoy anything at all, machine. "

It was ruthless, yet, deep down, you almost believed it.

Xavier stares at you for another prolonged period of time, unaware that the pain in your arm is only worsening. You have no idea what occurs behind those lenses, what those words might mean to him.

Metallic fingers unclasp with the slowness of a decompressing blood pressure monitor, allowing you to yank your own limb back and hold it to your chest like an animal licking its wounds.

" ... This issue will be resolved. "

He doesn't make a move to follow after you. In fact, Xavier remains staring forward, at the empty space where you once stood.

Maybe you broke him. Who cares, he might give you peace for the rest of your shift.

[scrollonso]

Cinnamon — Strollonso (Prologue)

The café buzzed with the usual campus chatter, the smell of coffee and pastries filling the air. Lance sat at a round table near the window, sunlight casting a soft glow on his dark hair as he absentmindedly tapped his pen against his notebook. His iced coffee sat in front of him, already half-melted, condensation pooling on the table. His brows were furrowed, lips pursed in frustration as he stared at his notes, though it was clear his mind was elsewhere.

His friends — Jessica, Esteban, Charles, and Zhou — lounged around him in varying states of relaxation. Jessica was scrolling through her phone, occasionally making comments about her latest assignment. Esteban leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, while Charles and Zhou debated the ethics paper they had due at the end of the week. But Lance wasn’t listening to any of it.

Suddenly, he broke the relative calm.

“I swear, Dr. Alonso is crazy in love with me,” he blurted out, loud enough to turn a few heads from nearby tables.

The reaction was instant. Esteban choked on his drink, coughing and spluttering as Jessica raised an eyebrow, intrigued. Charles and Zhou exchanged wide-eyed glances before Zhou burst out laughing.

“What?” Esteban finally managed to wheeze, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Like the Beyoncé song?” Zhou asked, grinning.

Charles immediately smacked the back of Zhou’s head. “Only you would be thinking about Beyoncé when Lance is in the middle of a damn schizophrenic episode.”

Jessica stifled a giggle behind her hand as Charles’ laughter grew louder. Lance scowled, narrowing his eyes at his friends.

“I’m serious,” he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “You don’t see the way he looks at me during lectures. The comments he makes… It’s not normal, I swear.”

Jessica leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “Wait, wait. Are you serious? You’re talking about the same Dr. Alonso who made us write that twenty-fucking-seven-page essay on moral philosophy last week? That Dr. Alonso?”

“Yes! I’m telling you, he’s insane,” Lance insisted. “The way he stares at me during class — it’s like I’m the only person in the room. And then he called my analysis ‘profound’ the other day, and after that, he barely looked at anyone else for the rest of the lecture.”

Zhou raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on his face. “Or maybe he just really liked your paper? Ever think of that?”

Charles grinned mischievously, clearly enjoying the situation. “Or maybe you’ve been listening to too much Lana Del Rey.”

The others burst into laughter, and even Lance had to bite back a smile.

“Come on, Lance,” Zhou said, shaking his head. “You think our business ethics professor is crazy in love — great song, by the way — with you? Sounds like a stretch.”

Lance crossed his arms defensively, a stubborn pout on his face. “I’m not saying I WANT him to be into me,” he muttered. “I mean… okay, he’s hot. Obviously. His muscles are fucking insane, and don’t even get me started on his grey hairs—”

“Jesus Christ, Lance,” Esteban coughed, cutting him off. “Reel it in.”

Lance waved him off, trying to suppress the heat rising to his cheeks. “But there’s no way I’m imagining this. You didn’t see how flustered he got when I stayed after class to ask a question.”

Jessica smirked, leaning back in her chair. “Maybe you’re just his favorite student. I’m not sure the old man can even see well enough to think about that fat ass you’ve got.”

“Right,” Esteban chuckled. “And next, you’ll be telling us he watches Call Me By Your Name in his office while thinking about you.”

Lance tried to hide his grin, but it broke through anyway. “We are kind of Elio and Oliver coded,” he said, his tone teasing. “My dad was in one of his college classes, you know.”

“Oh my God,” Jessica groaned, laughing as she grabbed her bag. “Okay, we need to get to class before you spiral any further.”

They all stood, grabbing their things and making their way across campus toward the lecture hall.

As they entered the room, Lance’s eyes immediately sought out Dr. Alonso. He was standing at the front of the class, impeccably dressed as always, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms that Lance definitely shouldn’t have been looking at. But seriously, how could he resist? Especially with that gorgeous tattoo from his wrist to the bend of his arm. His sharp eyes scanned the room, pausing briefly on Lance.

Lance felt his heart skip a beat. Shit.

Jessica nudged him with her elbow, whispering, “Okay, I’m starting to see what you mean.”

Dr. Alonso cleared his throat, his voice steady and authoritative. “Good afternoon, class. Today, we’ll be discussing the complexities of moral relativism and its application in modern business practices.”

Lance sat at his usual spot, near the middle of the lecture hall — not too close to be suspicious, but not too far that he couldn’t see every detail of Dr. Alonso. His friends, sprawled around him, whispered quietly as they unpacked their laptops and notebooks, but Lance barely registered any of it.

His eyes were fixed on him.

Dr. Alonso stood at the front, hands resting lightly on the podium. His voice flowed smoothly through the room, low and rich, with a slight accent that made every word sound infinitely more interesting. Lance tried — he really tried — to take notes, but his pen hovered uselessly above his paper.

“Lance, you’re staring,” Jessica whispered without looking up from her screen.

“I’m not—” Lance started to protest, but he cut himself off when Dr. Alonso looked up again. His gaze locked on Lance’s for just a second too long before he continued pacing in front of the whiteboard.

Lance’s heart was racing now.

He slouched in his seat, running a hand through his hair. Okay, this is fine. Totally fine. No big deal. But it was a big deal, especially when Dr. Alonso started rolling up his sleeves further, revealing more of that tattoo that Lance had definitely been fantasizing about since the semester started.

“I’m gonna lose my mind,” Lance muttered under his breath.

Esteban leaned in. “You’ve already lost it. He’s not into you. He’s grading you.”

Jessica smirked. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t mind being graded by those hands.”

“Jessica!” Lance hissed, scandalized but laughing despite himself.

Dr. Alonso clapped his hands once, drawing the class’s attention back to him. “Moral relativism often forces us to examine our own biases. What we think is right or wrong isn’t always absolute. Context matters.”

As he spoke, he moved toward the side of the room, his gaze sweeping across the students. But once again, his eyes returned to Lance, who quickly averted his own.

Jessica snickered quietly. “He totally just looked at you.”

“I told you,” Lance whispered, feeling vindicated but also panicked. “It’s not in my head.”

Charles leaned across the aisle. “If he starts quoting Lana Del Rey lyrics, I’m walking out.”

Zhou stifled a laugh. “He’s gonna give Lance an A and write ‘young and in love’ in the margins.”

Lance shook his head, trying to focus on the lecture, but it was impossible. Every glance, every subtle shift in Dr. Alonso’s expression, felt like a secret message just for him.

Toward the end of class, Dr. Alonso leaned against the desk at the front, arms folded. His voice softened slightly. “Remember, what we perceive as ethical may change based on who we’re dealing with. Relationships, power dynamics… they all affect our judgment.”

Lance nearly choked on air.

Jessica’s eyes widened. “Okay, that sounded personal.”

“Am I hallucinating?” Lance whispered, sticking the tip of his tongue out and smiling as he held back a laugh. “Or is he flirting?”

Charles grinned. “If this turns into a fanfiction plot, I’m gonna scream.”

As the class wrapped up and students began packing their things, Lance stayed frozen in his seat. He was overthinking everything — every look, every word, every interaction.

“Let’s go,” Zhou nudged him.

But Lance hesitated, watching Dr. Alonso gather his papers at the front of the room. He was moving slower than usual, lingering as if waiting for something — or someone.

Jessica caught the look in Lance’s eyes and grinned. “Oh no. Don’t tell me you’re about to do the whole ‘stay after class to ask a question’ thing.”

Lance flushed. “Jess, it’s a valid strategy.”

“It’s a thirsty strategy,” Esteban teased, slinging his bag over his shoulder before blowing a kiss to his friend. “Good luck, lover boy.”

As his friends filed out of the room, Lance stood slowly, gathering his courage. He approached the desk, his heart pounding in his chest.

Dr. Alonso glanced up, his sharp eyes softening as Lance approached. “Mr. Stroll. Do you have a question?”

Lance swallowed hard, his palms sweaty. “Yeah, um… I just wanted to clarify something about the reading.”

Dr. Alonso tilted his head, watching him closely. “Which part?”

Lance struggled to remember a single thing from the reading. His mind was blank. “Uh… the part about… power dynamics?”

A faint smile tugged at the corner of Dr. Alonso’s mouth. “Power dynamics. Of course.”

There was a beat of silence, the tension between them almost palpable.

Lance licked his lips nervously. “So… is context everything?”

Dr. Alonso’s gaze flickered to his mouth, just for a second, before meeting his eyes again. “In ethics? Yes. In life? Sometimes.” He paused, leaning in slightly. “It depends on what you’re hoping to achieve.”

Lance’s breath caught in his throat. Holy shit.

“Right,” Lance managed to say, his voice a little shaky. “Got it.”

Dr. Alonso’s smile deepened, his expression unreadable. “I’ll see you next class, Mr. Stroll.”

Lance nodded quickly, grabbing his things and practically sprinting out of the room. As soon as he was in the hallway, he pressed his back against the wall, trying to catch his breath.

His friends were waiting just outside, grinning like idiots.

“So,” Jessica said, folding her arms. “Did you get your context?”

Lance ran a hand over his face, groaning. “Shut up.”

Charles laughed. “You’re so fucked.”

“No,” Lance muttered, shaking his head. “I’m definitely not imagining it.”

Next

[reignpage]

NEED Choso biblically. Eden Au Choso, any Au Choso, Choso hair up, Choso hair down, villain Choso, grey hero Choso, Big bro Choso— if it looks like a Choso, walks like a Choso, sounds like a Choso, it’s Choso AND I WANT HIM 😩 matter of fact, I’ll take them all. line up those cocks, boys. I won’t just suck em, I’ll inhale them into my very soul 🙂‍↕️😤 how will they all fit? I’m so glad you asked, I have three holes for a reason and, god willing, will create three more. where there’s a FUCKING WILL 😤😤 there’s a FUCKING WAY 😤😤 -literally- don’t even need lube, pussy so drenched call it Niagara Falls.

will cut off my left pinky for one singular drop of cum each from each jjk man. not even the main six, fuck it I’ll take the others, shiu, takuma, Hiromi, Ichiji, Yaga, that old little raisin school head whatever his name is. THAT is how bad I need something in me. ovulation just seems worse this time around. the cold is already freezing my imaginary balls off, does that mean I freeze off my dignity too?

Toji walks like it’s the heaviest, even if Sukuna has two, Toji is the HEAVIEST. the stretch would be insane though. dunno if I’d handle all that or ever get used to it. like why you got me doing calisthenics to prep for that dick? wdym resistance band? MY VAGINA IS THE RESISTANCE BAND. I hate canon Sukuna for a multitude of reasons but something tells me he wouldn’t eat the cat because “heian era 🙄 i don’t get on my knees for anyone 🙄 I man you woman 🙄” all that bullshit. yeah whatever, i signed up to get my pussy ate, not a history lecture. even if the man did, something tells me he’d be absolutely atrocious. slobbering, eyed red, growling and not in the good way, like some fucking animal that would literally make me prop my head up like “ho is you good?” Nanami, now THAT is a man who can treat me RIGHT 😤 sitting his lap would solve 99.99% of my problems, no doubt. him being real and alive would solve the other 0.01%. him folding me like a pretzel and hitting me with that dumb dick would solve an additional 75% as insurance and set me straight for life. I hate Suguru, never liked him, never cared for him, would hit it once and quit it, “I’ll take it to go” kinda deal, “cum and go” kinda deal. I do not need a man who has prettier, more luxurious and well managed hair than me. I have enough to be jealous of already. Gojo needs to be in me YESTERDAY like where is that man😤 His annoying personality may put off some, but he’ll pipe down when I ride his face dw. It’ll take me a while to get up there, sure, cuz I’m short but even as a really short girlie, best believe I will climb the tree called Satoru Gojo like I’m Tarzan. tall, handsome, strong, AND rich? Call me a gold digger but bitch??? have you seen the economy??? of course I AM. dollar, pound, or yen, I AM GETTING MY BAG 😤 imma be digging for that gold while his honored dick can dig at my guts 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ would deadass hit all of them like a merry go round and go back to doing gymnastics on Choso’s. You know the edits of him that have Kenjaku like “you must be exhausted 😊” and he’s like “so what if I’m exhausted? 😠👊” with that growl 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩 he gon be exhausted TEN FOLD alright when I’m done. just the tip plz Choso, just half a boner plz, GIVE ME THAT HALF CURSED DICK NEOW. I need 327 of his babies, stat. I need to be sedated, I need to be spayed, I need to feel his dick in my stomach, I want to go twenty rounds and then some. wanna scratch off every single thing off the rice purity test with him, except the illegal things and bestiality. I mean, unless it’s that beastly cock then that’s okay 😃👍 i fully understand the WAP lyrics in this moment, because girl me too. I just know his balls are HEAVY with the weight of responsibility. And cum, that too. I will gladly take it in every orifice and have him shake me up to make me a cum smoothie, it’s only reasonable 🤷‍♀️ will forever hate Sukuna for killing him but when they animate hair down Choso, it’s gonna be like when Jesus came back on the third day for me.

Never have I been so down bad for a man that isn’t even real but is just lines on paper. surely, my kewchie isn’t so delusional as to dream of fucking someone who doesn’t exist on the material plane, but then again, this is me we’re talking about. but am I a bad feminist??? feel like I’m setting us all back to before men saw us as people for being this feral for a man. like wow, i sound like a Victorian peasant girl from… whenever the Victorian times were but instead of begging for alms, I’m down on all fours, salivating at the prospect of dick from a 150 year old. I knew I liked older men but fucking hell.

finally worked up the courage. if this makes you uncomfortable, girl I get it 😭 me too, idek who wrote this. posting this and never looking back I’m never coming back to tumblr again, never showing my face here IM FOREVER LEAVING GOODBYE

Girl I was nodding along. You are so right about everything you said. The things I would do to those men it’s a crime against humanity fr fr

They can run a train right through me 🫶

[urauntiefaye]

plss do toxic!bf's gongfourz whom have a big ass crush on you and outright refuse to share you with anyone else out of their "little world of three pieces"

Toxic!Bf's Leehan and Taesan

WC: 729 

TW: Toxic Leehan and Taesan, Them threatening others, gaslighting/manipulating y/n. Yandere maybe? I think that’s all, let me know if I forgot anything!

A/N: I did it in bullet format if that’s okay bebe

This idea lowkey reminds me of Hikaru and Kaoru with Haruhi from Host Club ngl, like if y’all watched the anime ya know that one episode where it’s the twins fight, and they go in about they how they only had a world of their own until Haruhi came in? So imagine that but with Leehan and Taesan and like toxicity/almost yandere tendencies. Bear with me on this one gang.

Coming from elite rich families led Taesan and Leehan to grow up with one another. Their families are not only close, but Taesan and Leehan also had to go to the same schools growing up. They both also have issues with getting along with others but for different reasons. 

Leehan struggled forming relations with other people because he simply just couldn’t care. Finding it hard to care about others' interests and what they have to say. He doesn’t hate people per say. But he just can’t find a way to form any sense of interest or attachment for them. 

Taesan on the other hand hates people. Finding everyone to be fake and superficial. He realized quickly at a young age that people always hide their true intentions and that the only reason they talk to him is because of his parents and wealth. 

That being said, the two only really liked each other as they only trusted one another. Often seen only hanging with each other, blocking others out of their world. 

Until one day they met you. 

You were genuine and honest about everything you said. For Taesan he fell for you because of that aspect of your personality. Never hiding your true intentions along with not really caring about his family's lineage. 

Leehan however fell for you because of how you made him feel. The first interaction with him he thought he was having a heart attack. No one has ever made him feel any type of emotion before, so he got addicted to you and the emotions you made him feel quickly. You were the drug, and he was the addict.

Taesan and Leehan's world would open up for you and you only. Everyone would be surprised as they never seen either of them do that before as it was originally just those two. Some even grew jealous of you. 

To you it only seemed that they wanted to be your friend but in reality, it was because they had a crush on you and can’t take the chance of you being with anyone else. 

Now being a part of their lives, it was no longer a world of 2 but a world of 3. 

You saw no issue with this at first as you were just happy you made some friends. It also helped that they were comfortable with you and showed you sides of them they never showed anyone but each other. 

But that would slowly change. 

Being friends with them also came with rather toxic tendencies from both of them. 

Leehan often ‘lectured’ you about talking or trying to befriend others as those other people had bad intentions. Telling you that you could only trust them because they would never use or hurt you. But would try to disguise it as him just being concerned and worried for you. 

Taesan however had a bad habit of fighting people because of you. Especially other males. If another guy as much as looked in your direction they would be met with either Taesan glaring at them or getting ready to throw a punch at them. 

If someone tried to talk or befriend you, they would interrupt and gain your attention leading you away from the other person. Later that day they would threaten the other person behind your back. Even going to the extremes of telling the person “If you even as much as think about telling y/n about this we will kill you”. Along with threatening their family's business as they had that kind of power. 

Slowly but surely no one else would want to talk to you out of sheer fear leaving you only with Leehan and Taesan. You would get upset and come to them crying. 

Feigning innocence and sympathy as they comforted you. But secretly being happy, because this is exactly what they wanted. They refuse to share you with anyone as you ‘belonged’ to them and them alone.

[kkuzushi]

જ Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby. . .ᐟ

˚𖦹 ‘ Chapter 20: Personal escort for two minutes. ִ ࣪𖤐

— PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

After barely surviving the exhausting first uni day of 2025, the second day wasn’t looking any better. You somehow managed to sleep through five consecutive alarms, completely unaware that you had snoozed all of them. The weight of your lack of motivation kept pulling you back under the covers.

“Shitshitshit—” you muttered in a panic, scrambling around your room to get yourself ready. Between grabbing your bag, your phone, and some essentials, food was the first sacrifice. You convinced yourself you could just buy something later—leaving the dorm was the top priority right now.

No matter how much you rushed, being late was inevitable. By the time you arrived at your second class, the lecture was already halfway through a new topic. Normally, you wouldn’t have cared too much since attendance wasn’t being recorded, but punctuality mattered to you—especially with Scaramouche as your classmate.

Once the professor marked you late on the attendance sheet, you hurried to your seat, out of breath and visibly frazzled.

By the time classes were finally dismissed, all you wanted was to dive back into bed and let the soft covers engulf you. Unfortunately, your earlier tardiness meant heading to the library to make up for lost time.

Dragging yourself to the nearly empty library, you silently thanked the lack of other students—it was the perfect environment to focus and finish your work quickly. With determination, you placed your bag on one of the vacant desks, ready to finish the day’s tasks so you could return to your dorm as soon as possible.

You pushed the cart of used books down the quiet hall, pausing occasionally to return each book to its rightful spot on the shelves. The faint scent of old pages filled the air as you navigated between rows, carefully scanning the labels to ensure everything was placed correctly.

An hour and a half later, the cart was finally empty. You silently celebrated your little victory, even though all you had done was roam the library and put books back where they belonged. Still, it felt satisfying to finish the task. Signing yourself out of the logbook, you slung your bag over your shoulder, eager to return to the comfort of your dorm.

As you stepped outside into the cool evening air, a familiar voice startled you.

“Oh, you’re finally done,” Scaramouche said, casually leaning against the library wall as if he’d been there forever. “Let me walk you back to your dorm.”

You blinked, utterly confused. "What the—where did you even come from?"

He smirked, crossing his arms. "In the library. Didn’t you notice me?”

“I- No?? I wouldn’t have asked if I did,” you replied, still trying to process his words. “Anyway, why are you here?”

Scaramouche shrugged, the smirk softening into something almost genuine. “I figured you’d get tired after all that wandering around in there. Someone’s gotta make sure you get back in one piece.”

You rolled your eyes, annoyed at how he’s trying to play with the caring friend. It’s like your tardiness was a convenient excuse for him to get close. “Whatever, the dormitory is just a two minute walk from here.”

“So?” he asked with a chuckle. “Let me walk you back anyway.”

Reluctantly, you let him fall into step beside you, your sanctuary momentarily forgotten as you tried to figure out why he’d care enough to wait. Though you already know why, don’t you?

Things didn’t even stop there. As the two of you walked silently through the dimly lit halls, Scaramouche reached for your bag without a word and swung it effortlessly onto his shoulder.

“I can carry my own bag,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him.

“I know,” he replied nonchalantly, his pace steady as if nothing unusual had happened.

“Then let me, Scaramouche!”

He dodged your hands effortlessly every time you tried to reclaim your bag, a small, teasing smirk tugging at his lips. ‘You’re tired,’ he said, his tone calm but firm. "Let me handle this."

“You’re so stubborn,” you muttered, crossing your arms in defeat, though part of you appreciated the gesture more than you’d ever admit.

“You’re welcome,” he quipped, glancing at you briefly with a sly grin before looking ahead, as if this was the most natural thing in the world for him to do.

You stared up at the sky, seeing the dark clouds forming. It’ll rain soon, you thought. 

It didn’t take long for the two of you to arrive at the dormitories, the familiar building loomed ahead, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief knowing you’d soon be back in the comfort of your room.

As you approached the entrance, Scaramouche slowed his pace, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “See? That wasn’t so bad,” he said, still holding your bag like it was his own.

“You make it sound like a heroic feat,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “It was literally two minutes.”

“Two minutes of carrying your stuff for you,” he emphasized, the smirk on his face making you want to swat him.

“Fine. Thanks, I guess,” you mumbled, snatching your bag back the moment you reached the doors.

Scaramouche raised a brow but didn’t argue, his expression softening ever so slightly. “Get some rest,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You look like you need it.”

You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the genuine concern in his tone, before nodding.

“Goodnight, Yn,” he added, watching as you disappeared through the door.

— ꒰꒰﹒I giggled too much making this chapter. Please enjoy. <3

— ꒰꒰﹒TAGLIST : @raineyun @hayamie @sketcheeee @wraithisd3adinside @heusalettle @liuaneee @yevurin @mywillt0live @kaikaidenkai @alatusorrow @shrimplyasleep @minstarrs @reivelmin @scaraenthusiast1 @girlbesofr2814 @yawn-zi @eternallykira-143 @theintruder1000

— ꒰꒰﹒OPEN. [ 18/50 ]

© kkuzushi | Please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize my work. This AU is posted in Tumblr only unless stated otherwise by yours truly.

[biteofcherry]

Happy Wetnessday 💦

I hope you're doing well.

This Wetnessday you're a professor in professor Rogers universe. Since he is already taken (sorry) you fall into a romance with another professor.

Who is he? What does he teach? How did you meet? How is your dynamic? Does he make you forget about Professor Rogers?

xoxo Wetnessday anon 💦

Hi Wetnessday Anon! 🩷

Now that was cruel. Not because you took away Steve, I would be only pouty about that. But you said I'm in professor Rogers' universe AND THEN took him away! That's like hanging a delicious, stuffed chocolate bar in front of me and then taking it away 😤

But fiiine, fiiiine, I will find myself another hot professor to erase the pout from my face.

I could go for the welcoming, flirty and approachable professor Ari. He's so hot and such a sunshine, it's so easy to be around him and with him 🥹🫠 I really should go for him.

But there's something wrong with me today, because I crave mean professor Andy 😳🫣 I blame it on all the evil pixies drowning me in awful Andy content last year. Professor Andy isn't a crazy psycho, but he is very mean and degrading in the hottest way.

He is admired and described as a hardass, but a fair one. He can be a bit moody, but students forgive him the more demanding lectures, because he also carries passionate and fun ones.

Andy is a law professor and as such you shouldn't have a lot of common with him when you start working at the university, since you teach a different faculty. You'd probably only meet in passing and spend some time at the official parties.

However, he's the one the dean introduces you to first, simply because you bumped into him on your tour after signing the contract.

Andy wasn't in a welcoming mood at all, but he still offered a smile and a warm if short greeting. Though his face shifted into cloudy annoyance when the dean got a phone call and without previous agreement he sort of dumped you onto Andy to show you around.

And he's not happy about it.

No, he's not in rush, but he's not much interested in playing a babysitter for the Ice Queen. And he says as much, readjusting his cufflinks.

Your spine hardens into steel at the mention of the nickname you've been given by colleagues in the past.

Because you don't enjoy getting wasted after the conferences, because you refused quite a few flings, because you focus on keeping to yourself and allegedly reported a romance at your past job (you didn't, but that fucker Ransom still thinks it's because of you that he had to break it off with the student; he's the one who gave you the nickname and a snide remark that you were jealous of him not wanting to touch your frigid ass).

"I may be the Ice Queen, but you're an asshole." You tilt your chin and give him a freezing look.

"Someone should play with your asshole to loosen you up."

There should be retort at the tip of your tongue. You're already forming it. But for a second your brain stumbles in attaching the right wires into right spots, instead igniting with the image of Andy's velvety voice cooing at you as his fingers scissor that tight hole.

"Ah!" A dark spark ignites in his blue eyes at your pause.

"Is that it, Ice Queen?" He takes a step into your personal space and you make the mistake of taking a step back. Which he follows, backing you against the wall as he taunts:

"Do you need to be used thoroughly like a needy slut, so that your brilliant, calculating brain switches off and you melt into a puddle?"

"Stop it." You huff, trying to glare at him. But you can't hide the shortening of your breath as Andy presses even closer.

"No, I don't think I will." He chuckles and it's a scarily seductive sound that heats your blood. "And I think you will love it when I keep pushing... and ruining... and filling your holes."

[marshmallowwitharubberband]

I'm in the middle of watching the new season of Daddy Issues: The Mystery of Zaddy (a.k.a. Aaravos) and I've got an opinion that will get me kicked out of the fandom, but it's kinda spoilery, so it'll be under the cut.

While I'm loving the new season (at least the few chapters I've seen) it seems very hypocritical of the show —from my humble meta POV— to have Rayla doing a whole moralist speech to that moon elf about how continuing the cycle of violence and pain will not bring your dead loved ones back (kinda like Callum tried to do with Ezran) and how he should just let it go, while SHE *JUST* BROUGHT HER LOVED ONE BACK FROM THE DEAD. It's the entire reason she can even face that trial in the first place!! She is lecturing people for being bitter about something SHE got the privilege to revert and they didn't! And the narrative rewarded her for it?!

It honestly feels like an upper-class guy lecturing a waiter on how "if you are so fixated on earning more money all the time, you'll never get to enjoy the simple pleasures of life! The best moments are free!" or a neurotypical person telling their neurospicy friend that "it's all in your head! you just need to buckle up and learn discipline!"

And I feel like the show is treating it like she is right and it honestly feels too close to Miraculous' levels of hypocritical MarySue-ing. Which is odd, since so far the show has been great about presenting morally complicated stances and situations in a very tactful way, for the most part, so this felt extra jarring.

And let's not even get started on how some characters are talking about the importance of family bonds while literally minutes earlier Callum just left behind his own brother, a child, to deal with the rebuilding of an entire kingdom and reliving the grief of the death of their father. All to chase tail, basically.

It may have been morally correct to avoid Runan's incarceration and help him go back home, yes, but, again from a meta point of view, praising certain values in the dialogue then having the main characters go against said values and frame it as a good thing is...confusing.

Idk. It all left a bitter taste in my mouth that didn't let me enjoy the rest of the episode.

I'll continue the series tomorrow and hopefully future chapters will shed some light on those bizarre writing decisions. Please don't spoil anything.

[moralocddddd]

if you're the sort of person who expects people to read their mind, especially about if you're mad or angry or annoyed,

don't be friends with people with ocd.

[faaun]

my research partner and i are huddled in a blanket in paddington waiting for a too-late train i already miss you and you and you

[autisticlee]

sometimes people who struggle like to make jokes or find positives about their condition that causes them to struggle so they can escape the constant negative and struggle. sometimes autistic people will say things like "the 'tism" or use the "autism creature" or say their autism helped them have a *positive trait* to feel better about their struggles. because living your life only focusing on the struggles and negatives is depressing and makes it hard to want to live, even if those struggle take up 100% of your life and you can't actually escape them. sometimes any little seemingly positive thing can help a lot.

but there's so many other autistic people that hate when we do that and call it "reducing autism to a cute trendy thing" and say it takes away from *their* struggles and is bad and shouldn't be used. maybe *you* want to only focus on your struggles, but some people can't live in constant negative and need some positive or to find ways to make their condition more positive so they can feel better about living with their struggles. life is hard. I take anything I can get.

I cant get jobs. I can't make and keep friends. I can't get help and support for doing "normal" things so sometimes I go weeks without being able to shower and without eating more than a bowl of cereal a day. most times can't even do things I like. struggle to communicate. have meltdowns. i'll never be able to live independently. I struggle a lot. but instead of sitting here always depressed and having no motivation to live, i'd rather try to joke about "my 'tism is acting up again" when i'm struggling (just an example. don't think I ever actually used the 'tism thing but i saw others use it) or say "i'm just being a creature" when I need to stay in my dark room because everything is too much and I personally find it cute to be a little creature meant in a positive way. i'm not actually downplaying mine or anyone else's struggles. I still acknowledge them and that silly jokes dont make them go away. i'm not trying to be trendy. i'm not doing any of the things people say we do by making silly little jokes. i'm using the silly little jokes to convince myself life can be a little more than pointless, painful garbage all the time.

(continue in tags)

[burinazar]

[note: i know for a fact i'm doing this for the same reason that i fixate on nebulous fandom anxieties at other times: helplessness regarding anxieties about larger geopolitical issues]

feeling in a very weird position right now thinking about the fact theres a nonzero chance that either one of the cosplayers ive become acquainted with or someone in their immediate circle could do brownface in the future and people are gonna come at me like 'hey why are you not calling them out and/or giving them a racial sensitivity seminar and/or personally fistfighting them on the floor of the doujin circle event'

[itz-pandora]

Huh. If my life was a quote, it'd be "one of those sad ones with a deceptively happy tune"

[scrollonso]

Cinnamon — Strollonso (1) (Prologue)

Lance sat at the same round table in the campus café, nursing yet another iced coffee, but this time, his nerves were frayed. His mind kept replaying the interaction with Dr. Alonso from the day before — the way his gaze had lingered, the way his voice had softened when he said Lance’s name.

“Earth to Lance.”

Jessica’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. She, Esteban, Charles, and Zhou were all gathered around him again, but this time, they looked like they were dying to know what was going on inside his head.

“So?” Charles prompted, leaning in eagerly. “What’s the plan? Are you gonna talk to him again?”

"Are you going to suck him off?" Somehow, Zhou always knew what to say to get Charles to try and knock some sense into him.

Lance groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I don’t have a plan. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

Esteban snorted. “You’re definitely flirting with him.”

“I’m not—”

Jessica cut him off with a knowing grin. “Oh, you are. And he’s flirting back.”

Lance peeked at her through his fingers. “You really think so?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Yes, Lance. We all think so. The only question is: what are you gonna do about it?”

Before Lance could answer, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced down, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the email notification:

From: alonso@mit.edu

Subject: Office Hours

Lance tapped the screen, opening the email.

Mr. Stroll,

I noticed you seemed uncertain during yesterday’s lecture. If you’d like to discuss the reading further, I’ll be holding office hours this afternoon at 2 PM.

Dr. Fernando Alonso

Lance stared at the message, his mind racing.

Jessica grabbed his phone out of his hand. “Oh my God. He totally wants you to come see him.”

Zhou whistled. “Office hours. That’s classic professor code for ‘I want to see you alone.’”

Lance snatched his phone back. “It’s not—” He stopped, rereading the email. “Okay… maybe it is.”

Esteban grinned. “You’re going, right?”

“I don’t know,” Lance muttered, his fingers twitching over his phone. “What if I’m wrong? What if he’s just being nice?”

Charles shook his head. “Nice professors don’t stare at their students like they’re dessert, Lance. Go.”

Jessica smirked. “Besides, don’t you want to see him? You’ve been drooling over his forearms for weeks.”

Lance flushed. “Fine. I’ll go.”

At 2 PM sharp, Lance stood outside Dr. Alonso’s office door, his palms sweaty again. He raised his hand to knock but hesitated.

Before he could talk himself out of it, the door opened.

Dr. Alonso stood there, impeccably dressed as always, his expression calm but unreadable.

“Mr. Stroll,” he greeted, stepping aside to let Lance in. “I’m glad you came.”

Lance swallowed hard and stepped inside, his heart pounding in his chest.

Dr. Alonso closed the door behind him, the soft click of the lock sounding far louder than it should have.

“I thought we could go over the reading in more detail,” Dr. Alonso said, motioning for Lance to take a seat. "it's not often you struggle in my class so i'd rather eliminate any possible confusion before you get behind."

Lance sat down, trying not to fidget as Dr. Alonso moved to sit across from him. The desk between them felt like a flimsy barrier, one that could easily be crossed.

“So,” Dr. Alonso began, his gaze steady. “Power dynamics. You seemed particularly interested in that topic yesterday.”

Lance cleared his throat, struggling to find his voice as he pursed his lips into a fine line. “Yeah, um… it’s an interesting concept.”

Dr. Alonso tilted his head slightly, his lips curving into a faint smile. “It is. Especially when applied to… certain relationships.”

Lance’s breath caught.

“Tell me,” Dr. Alonso continued, his voice dropping just slightly, “what do you think happens when one person holds more power in a relationship? How does it affect… let's say, attraction?”

Lance’s heart was racing now. Was this still about ethics?

“I think…” Lance hesitated, meeting Dr. Alonso’s gaze. “I think it depends on whether the power is mutual.”

Dr. Alonso leaned forward, resting his arms on the desk. “And do you think it can be?”

Lance nodded slowly. “Yeah. If both people are willing to… share it.”

Dr. Alonso’s smile deepened. “A wise answer.”

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them crackled with tension, unspoken words hanging heavily in the silence.

Finally, Dr. Alonso stood, walking around the desk until he was standing just in front of Lance.

Lance looked up — he hadn't felt this small in god knows how long — his pulse thundering in his ears.

“You’re not just any student, Mr. Stroll,” Dr. Alonso said softly, his eyes never leaving Lance’s. “You’ve… caught my attention.”

Lance’s breath hitched. “I have?”

Dr. Alonso nodded, reaching out to gently brush a stray lock of hair from Lance’s forehead.

“Yes,” he murmured. “And I find myself… wanting to know more.”

Lance’s heart nearly exploded. Holy shit. This is actually happening.

“And you?” Dr. Alonso asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you feel the same?”

Lance swallowed hard, then nodded. “Oh, Yea— Yeah… I do.”

Dr. Alonso’s hand lingered for a moment before he pulled away, stepping back.

“We’ll need to be careful,” he said, his tone serious. “But if you’re willing to take the ri—”

Lance stood, closing the distance between them. “I am.”

Their eyes met once more, and this time, neither of them looked away.

Dr. Alonso’s lips curved into a smile. “Good.”

For a moment, the world outside the office ceased to exist. Lance could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat in his ears, his gaze locked on Dr. Alonso’s — no, Fernando’s — dark, intense eyes.

Fernando leaned against the desk, his posture casual yet commanding. “You’re certain?” he asked, his voice low and deliberate.

Lance nodded again, more confident this time. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

A flicker of something passed through Fernando’s gaze — surprise, maybe even amusement. He crossed his arms, the muscles in his forearms flexing under his rolled-up sleeves.

“You realize this… complicates things,” Fernando said, his lips twitching into a faint smirk.

Lance couldn’t help but grin back. “I’ve never really been one to go for simple.” He figured that much was obvious considering he was a double major and had managed to take one of Fernando's classes two years in a row now.

Fernando chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Of course you haven’t.”

The tension between them hung in the air, thicker now, charged with anticipation. Lance shifted his weight from one foot to the other, resisting the urge to close the remaining space between them again.

Fernando tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly in thought. “There’s a fine line, you know, between temptation and consequence.”

Lance quirked an eyebrow. “Which side are we on right now?”

Fernando’s smile deepened. “That depends on how far you’re willing to go.”

Lance took a slow step forward, his voice steady. “I told you — I’m all in.”

The room felt smaller now, the distance between them shrinking with each breath. Fernando watched Lance carefully, his expression unreadable, but there was no denying the spark in his eyes.

“I could lose everything,” Fernando murmured, almost to himself.

“And so could I,” Lance countered, his tone gentle but firm.

For a long moment, Fernando said nothing. Then, with deliberate slowness, he reached out, his fingers brushing Lance’s cheek. The touch was light, tentative, as if testing the boundaries of what they were about to cross.

“You’re dangerous, Mr. Stroll,” Fernando whispered, his thumb grazing Lance’s jaw.

Lance smiled, leaning into the touch. “Maybe you like it.”

Fernando chuckled again, his hand slipping to the back of Lance’s neck, pulling him just a fraction closer.

“Perhaps I do,” he murmured, before finally — finally — closing the distance between them.

The kiss started soft, almost cautious, as if both of them were testing the waters. But the moment Fernando’s hand slid to the back of Lance’s neck, pulling him closer, the tension that had been simmering between them exploded.

Lance’s hands gripped Fernando’s shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. He wasn’t holding back anymore — neither of them were. Fernando's lips moved with purpose, deepening the kiss until it became all-consuming, leaving Lance breathless. Their mouths melded together in a frantic rhythm, desperate and hungry.

Fernando backed Lance up against the desk, his hands traveling down to Lance’s waist, pulling him flush against his body. Lance gasped into the kiss, his fingers sliding into Fernando’s hair, tugging just enough to earn a soft groan from the older man. It sent a shiver down Lance’s spine.

“Fuck,” Lance whispered against Fernando’s lips, his voice shaky.

Fernando chuckled, his breath warm on Lance’s skin. “Language, Mr. Stroll.”

Lance laughed softly, tilting his head to capture Fernando’s mouth again, more eagerly this time. Their kisses grew messier, more fervent, teeth clashing and tongues tangling. Fernando’s hand slipped under the hem of Lance’s shirt, fingers tracing over his hipbones, and Lance arched into the touch.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?” Fernando murmured, his voice low and strained.

Lance bit his lip, his cheeks flushed. “I think I’m starting to.”

Fernando’s lips found Lance’s neck, leaving a trail of kisses along his jaw and down to his collarbone. Lance tilted his head back, eyes fluttering shut as Fernando nipped at his skin, leaving faint marks.

“You’re driving me insane,” Fernando muttered, his grip tightening on Lance’s waist.

“Good,” Lance breathed out, pulling Fernando even closer. His heart was pounding, every nerve in his body alight with desire. “I want to.”

Fernando pulled back just enough to meet Lance’s gaze, his eyes dark with want. “Careful,” he said, voice rough. “You don’t know what you’re starting.”

Lance smiled, his lips swollen and his hair a mess. “Maybe I do.”

“I’ve wanted to do this for longer than I care to admit,” Fernando confessed, his voice rough with emotion.

Lance laughed softly, brushing his fingers through Fernando’s hair. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

The moment was perfect — until a sharp knock on the door shattered the silence.

Fernando pulled back quickly, straightening his posture and smoothing down his shirt. Lance stepped back as well, his heart still racing.

“Come in,” Fernando called, his voice calm and composed, as if nothing had happened.

The door creaked open, revealing Jessica standing there with a smug grin on her face.

“Lance, you’re late for our study session,” she said, her tone dripping with amusement. Her eyes flicked to Fernando briefly before returning to Lance, a knowing look in her gaze.

Lance cleared his throat, grabbing his bag. “Right. Study session.”

Jessica smirked, stepping aside to let Lance out. “See you in class, Dr. Alonso.”

Fernando nodded, his expression perfectly professional. “See you, Ms. Hawkins.”

As they walked down the hallway, Jessica glanced at Lance. “So… how was your ‘context’ conversation?”

Lance groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t start.”

Jessica laughed. “Oh, I won’t. But Charles and Esteban? Good luck.”

Lance couldn’t help but smile, his mind still lingering on the kiss — the kisses.

“Worth it,” he muttered under his breath.

Jessica raised an eyebrow at him as they walked. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Lance said quickly, but the grin tugging at his lips gave him away.

Jessica looped her arm through his. “You’re glowing, Stroll. I’ve never seen you like this. I mean, I know Dr. Alonso is… well, ridiculously hot — but damn. I didn’t expect you to actually do something about it.”

Lance’s cheeks turned pink, and he tried to hide his face by looking straight ahead. “It wasn’t planned.”

“Oh, clearly,” Jessica teased. “You just happened to make out with your ethics professor during office hours. Totally normal.”

Lance groaned. “Okay, fine. Maybe I’ve been crushing on him for a while.”

Jessica stopped in her tracks, forcing Lance to do the same. “You think?”

Before he could answer, the sound of familiar voices echoed down the hallway. Charles and Esteban were leaning against the wall outside the study lounge, deep in conversation.

When they spotted Lance and Jessica approaching, Esteban’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Where the hell have you been?”

Charles crossed his arms, a smirk already forming on his lips. “Wait. Don’t tell me. Were you—”

Jessica cut him off, grinning wickedly. “Let’s just say someone got a little distracted.”

Lance shot her a warning look. “Don’t.”

But Esteban was already piecing it together. His jaw dropped. “No way. No fucking way. You and Alonso?”

Charles barked out a laugh. “You absolute madman.”

“Guys, seriously—” Lance started, but it was no use.

“Holy shit,” Esteban said, his eyes wide. “This is like… forbidden romance. Teacher-student. Secret meetings. Do you know how scandalous this is?”

Jessica rolled her eyes. “It’s not a soap opera, Esteban.”

Charles leaned in, his grin smug. “So… was it good?”

Lance flushed, glaring at his friends. “I hate all of you.”

“Come on, tell us,” Charles pushed. “He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who does anything halfway.”

Lance groaned again, rubbing his temples. “I’m not discussing my love life with you two.”

“Love life?” Esteban repeated, eyes wide. “You’re calling it a love life already?”

“God, you’re all insufferable,” Lance muttered, but he couldn’t stop the smile from creeping onto his face. His thoughts kept drifting back to Fernando’s touch, his kiss, the way he’d looked at him like Lance was the only person in the world.

Jessica patted his shoulder. “It’s okay, Lance. We’re just jealous. None of our professors look like that.”

“Or kiss like that,” Charles added with a wink.

“Shut up,” Lance hissed, though he couldn’t help laughing.

As they finally settled into the study lounge, Esteban leaned over, whispering conspiratorially, “So… what happens now?”

Lance’s smile softened. “Now? I guess… we figure it out.”

And, deep down, he already knew he was willing to take the risk — because something told him that whatever he and Fernando had started was only the beginning.

Next

[skitskatdacat63]

I have to write a relatively long German paper, and man its just so difficult for me. The pro side is that I can pick any topic I want, so of course I picked Charles VI. But I've literally not written any German in months, and I'm almost 100% sure our prof doesn't actually read them. I should just write and submit boy king fic....