#the professor has a 2/5 rating on rate my professor and i felt like a clown when registering for her class like yeah shooting myself

[sandsucks]

i need to invest in an animated series about my life in my organic chemistry class istg

[coffeedepressionsoup]

Somebody does love | MYG - They Meet

Pairing - Yoongi x F!reader

Summary - "What is grief, if not love persevering?" Two people are in love but that is not enough because sometimes loving requires courage.

This is the one where the two meet for the first time. Part 2 of Somebody Does Love.

Series Masterlist

Genre - fluff, strangers to lovers, eventual smut and angst

Word count - 3k+

Warnings - lil swearing, SMOKING IS INJURIOUS TO HEALTH! nothing else I can think of

Ratings - 13+

A/N - Apologies for the late update. But do let me know in the comments what you think of the chapter and what direction you want to see the narrative flow in. Also, this is not proofed, please excuse typos, tense, and grammar errors. And if you liked it, please please please engage with the post. Comment, like, repost. Your engagement is the sole reason I am pushed to write. 

Your flight landed with a two-hour delay at 5 pm at the Incheon airport. After collecting your baggage and going through customs, you shot a text to your friend and waited near one of the cafes inside the airport for the crowd to die down. In about 10 minutes you lugged your bags behind you, pulling your mask further up your nose and pulling the bucket hat to right above your eyes. 

It didn’t take long to spot Sammy. Dressed in all black, he had a casual gait that only he could have. It also helped that he carried a little cat poster. You could see his eyes crinkle with a smile as he saw you walking out, which mirrored your own.

“Oh it’s so good to finally have you here!” he said while hugging and slightly managing to lift you off the ground.

“I know. But I am so hungry and nervous and I have such a bad headache,” you mumbled into his jacket shoulder.

“Let’s get you washed, fed and rested. Come on,” he chuckled patted your back and took one of your bags before starting walking towards his car. Ah! His car. A black 2022 Maserati Ghibli Modena. One that he has been yapping about for months on end. 

You honestly found it ridiculous. The inordinate amount of money people would pay to procure “luxury” items always confounded you. Sure, wealth commands a certain amount of comfort- Your brain stopped as soon as you sat down on the passenger’s seat of the car. Your ass was far more comfortable than it has ever been on any bed or couch that you have ever owned. Maybe you can allow yourself to see why someone would spend hundreds and thousands of dollars on a car. 

Sammy closed the back of the car, with all your bags safely tucked in, and walked over to the driver’s seat. He saw you leaning back onto the seat with your eyes closed. He smirked behind the mask and sat down, swiftly starting the car.

“Still think this was an unnecessary splurge?” his mask had come off and he had that wide eye-crinkling smile.

“Maybe not,” you smiled to yourself. “How far is your place from here?”

“About an hour, with the school and office traffic now, some more.”

“My dead body will enter your residence, Kim Woosung,” you groaned and pulled at the seatbelt in annoyance. Both your mask and hat were now on your lap. Your head felt like the persistent beating of 500 drums all at once.

“Try to take a nap, I will play your sleep playlist,” he suggested. 

You could not move another muscle to bother with a response. His reply was like a command. With your eyes shut, you shifted your shoulders to place your neck relatively comfortably. The last thing you remember is the comforting, low hum of white noise filling up the space around you.

_______________________

You walked out of the SNU campus, your colleague and friend Samairah in tow. She is the reason you are in Seoul in the first place. You met at an academic conference in Edinburgh when you were still PhD researchers. Dr Samairah Nazli is now a full-time professor of Gender Studies at the prestigious Seoul National University. 

“It is just a contract for the coming academic year, Y/N! Come on! You will also get to spend time with Sammy.” You had scoffed back at your friend over the video call last November when she said her department wanted to invite you as a Visiting Professor for their newly-introduced Feminist Economics course and the existing Gender and Media course that a now-retired professor used to handle. 

But a week later when you found yourself in a virtual meeting with the Dean, Department Head and the Vice Chancellor, the opportunity did seem intriguing. They did want to eventually offer you a full-time position. You would be tenured at 32! Also, you can work with Samairah again, after working on your first book together, you knew you would work together again. 

And of course, you get to spend time with Sammy. One of your best friends. Kim Woosung of The Rose. But only Sammy to you. Crazy to think that you only met him about three years ago, at Friar Park of all places on the planet, but lord, did you love that dude to bits.

“Wanna grab a drink?” Samairah asks, as you both head towards the subway station.

“No, meeting the broker again.”

“This will be the 8th place she’s showing you?”

You shook your head as you dug in your pockets for the cigarette case. “No. Ninth.”

You lit a cigarette and said, “I really want to finalise a place and settle down before the semester begins.”

“Tough to do all that in what- 12 days now?” she counted the days mentally and grabbed the smoke you held out for her to counter.

“I wish I were a millionaire at times like these,” you took back the smoke and gave it a long drag as you stopped at the crossing. Samairah would go straight from here to catch her train and you will take a left and meet Hwang Seul-gi. Your realtor. Broker. Currently, the most important person in your life.

You could have opted to stay at the Siheung-Si staff residence for part-time and visiting faculties, but that would mean you would spend half the day in transit. And you hated transit. Motion made you sick. So yes, car trips with you are absolute joyrides for your friends. 

You also wanted time to work on the manuscript of the next book you are planning. And you want enough time to sleep. God, you wish to have a carefree night of sleep soon. Not that Sammy’s guest room is bad, it is comfortable, and luxurious even when you consider the free cuddles from Woolfie, but it still is not a place of your own. 

Although Sammy argued the opposite back when you told him about your year-long relocation to Seoul. He wanted you to live as roommates. Even offered you to pay for house-sitting in mirth, for all the times he would be away on tour. 

Again, you loved the guy. But his social butterfly stages of self are something you could take in small doses. You knew what his schedule was like, how many people dropped by for work at his home studio, and even just because to share drinks. But a whole year of it would drive you mad. So Sammy finally gave up trying to convince you and connected you to Seul-gi.

The lovely Seul-gi who yet again showed you a wonderful place, reasonably near the campus. But the deposit itself would require you to sell both your kidneys, maybe an eye and even a good chunk of your liver.

It was almost 7:30 by the time you left the apartment complex and headed towards Sammy’s place. You could take a cab, but the crisp late February air made a nice weather for a walk. You were passing through a park, almost deserted at the time, when you heard a noise that alerted you.

It sounded like someone was struggling. Some animal. You could hear low grunts, probably a puppy or a kitten, but you looked around and saw nothing immediately. The noise continued so you stopped and tried to follow the direction of the sound. 

You reached a bush at the side of the pathway and were sure that this was the location. But the sun was already down. Dim yellow lights sparsely lit the park pathway, enough for people to look and walk, but not enough to see within the bushes. 

By the noise you could now tell that there was also a metal scraping noise, but barely so. You turned on your phone's flashlight but still saw nothing. You looked around but saw no one. Trying your best to not step on any of the plants, you entered the bush and squatted down with the flashlight.

“Hey, are you okay?” a low but heavy voice from above you startled you and the phone almost dropped from your grip as you stood up to see who it was. A man donning all black with a mask, a cap and a hoodie looked right back at you. Only his eyes were visible and the eyes were filled with concern. In the commotion of your entry into the bush and stomping around, ever so mildly within it had now increased the noise. 

It sounded like a distressed kitten. You looked back down and could see one of the drainage grills under the dense foliage of the bush. You looked back up at the stranger and said, “I think a kitten has fallen into the drain.”

Before the man could respond, you squatted back down again and saw the drain and beady little eyes inside it clearly this time. You put down your bag beside you on the ground and put all your effort into pulling the iron rungs up. You could feel it move a little, but not enough to dislodge it. 

“Hey baby, don’t worry. I will get you out of there,” you cooed through your laboured breath. By now, the stranger had joined you. You both exchanged glances and without saying a word you went in and pulled at the grille together at the same time. It seemed a lot easier with the two of you having pulled at it. With one arm, the stranger shifted the grille aside. 

You peered down the drain and extended your arm to grab the kitten. The poor being was scared and cold and probably even more traumatised by all the strange and sudden commotion. You leant down completely, with your stomach on the ground and lowered yourself into the opening up to your shoulders to grab the kitten with both your hands.

The man next to you extended a cautious arm as if to make sure you don’t fall in. Well, the opening was not big enough for you to fall into. But you could get weirdly stuck. But soon he saw your body lifting up and his extended hand hovered over your body, never touching, but ready to help if needed.

You came back up with a feisty calico kitten in your hands who initially made a few tiny scratches on your palm but was now just shivering. The man beside you promptly took off the work jacket he was wearing over his hoodie and handed it towards you. How many layers is he wearing? A small part of your mind wandered, but you quickly grabbed it from him, giving him a thankful smile and wrapped the kitten up in the jacket and held her close to your body, for maximum warmth.

You looked down at the ground near your feet where your bag was and before you could bend over to grab it, the man swooped in and said, “I got this.”

After you stepped out of the bush, you turned to the man again and said, bowing politely, “Thank you for your help.”

“No problem at all. I have two cats of my own, I know the fear of losing them” he said in a calm but understanding tone. You looked at his eyes more closely while he talked, you could have sworn you had met him before, but didn’t know where.

You shook your head and replied, “Oh no, this is not my cat.” And then you explained the noise you followed. The man nodded his head and looked around probably thinking the same thing that you were. “Do you think the mother is around here somewhere?” you asked.

“If she were, she wouldn’t be too far away.”

You looked back down at the kitten, who had stopped shivering now but was still covered in a considerable amount of mud and dirt. You also considered checking if she was chipped and if the person could be notified if she was already a pet. “Do you know of any vet nearby? I am new here, so-”

“Yes, it’s on my way. I will drop you,” he held his arm out to point in the general direction of where you were headed to go back to Sammy’s. You started walking and the man joined you. Out of the park, and having crossed two traffic signals and taken two right turns, you reached the vet’s chamber. It was reasonably empty. You put your name in the register and waited. 

The man sat in a chair next to you but one. He looked over to see you making conversation with the kitten. Of course, she won’t be able to say if she lost her mother or forgot her way home. But the sing-song voice you used clearly worked. He could see the large dark beady eyes of the kitten staring back at your face with wonder and trust.

He too looked at your face with wonder and felt a strange sense of trust and comfort. When he saw a person climb inside a bush at a more or less empty park on a random Thursday evening, he half expected it to be a madman. But when he peered in and saw the glow of a flashlight, he grew more curious. 

He noticed how a part of your right elbow was scraped slightly, not that you seemed to notice. He also saw the muddy bits on your beige outfit. And then looked again at the kitten wrapped in his jacket, on your lap.

“Y/N,” the receptionist called out. You stood up and turned towards the man and gave him a curt nod. He blinked several times before nodding back at your retreating figure and gulped down a deep breath. Did you catch him staring? Even if you did, you didn’t let it show. Y/N. Y/N. He repeated the name in his head a couple of times. 

It was only after the doctor examined the kitten and told you that she has no chips, and is healthy but is slightly malnourished, that you realised you have so far, that is almost in 30 to 40 minutes’ time, not once asked for the man's name - the stranger in black, now at pet clinic reception.

You just followed a stranger through a dimly lit park and ended up where you are now. When put that way, doesn’t sound like the safest thing to do.

The groomers had taken the kitten to another room to clean her up. The vet wrote up some supplements that the kitten could be given and asked you to wait outside. You walked out and saw the man, right where he was, hugging your bag on his lap, scrolling through his phone. Cap, mask and hoodie - still intact. You went up to him and sat in the seat next to him but one. 

“Thanks for looking after my bag,” you smiled. 

The man looked up at you and held the bag out, you could see the crinkles of his smile near his eyes. “Is she alright?” he asked.

You explained whatever the doctor said. 

“Are you going to keep her then?”

Your eyes widened comically and then it dawned on you. You don’t even have a place for yourself. Where the fuck are you gonna keep her? And if the mother was still around, she would likely not be malnourished, so it is not like you can hope to reunite her with her mom. 

Sammy would not mind, for now, you knew. But Woolfie? How would he react?

Seeing you stunned, the man chuckled, “You hadn’t really thought so far, had you?”

“Not really. My immediate instinct was to just release the kitten. But she’s so small and frail, I cannot possibly let her be anywhere else. But-”

Before you could say anything else, one of the groomers approached you, with the kitten now in a cosy, little carrier, all clean and dried. And he carried the jacket she was wrapped in, in the other hand. 

You thanked him and then turned to the man next to you and looked guiltily down at the jacket on your right hand. “I am sorry about this. I will get it dry-cleaned and return it to you. And also, I am sorry I didn’t catch your name till now. I am Y/N Y/L/N," you draped the jacket over your other forearm and extended your arm for a shake.

“HI Y/N, I am Min Yo-,” he choked on his words before he cleared his throat and said taking your hand and giving it a firm shake, “I am Min Yong-Ho.”

You smiled back and walked out of the vet clinic. “I go this way now,” you pointed towards the left. 

“Oh I go the opposite way,” you could see the hint of a smile but also maybe apprehension.

You had bought cat food worth a week, food bowls, a litter box, litter pellets and a small cat bed. You requested the store to deliver the items to Sammy’s address. In the meantime, you had texted the bare bones of your encounter to him. So he was ready to greet a kitten into his home by the time you went back and for the time being had locked his bedroom door, where Woolfie was fast asleep.

You nodded and asked the man, “So, Yong-ho, how do I return your jacket?”

The man looked around, eyes seeming frantic, almost like a deer caught in headlights. Until finally he pointed at a cafe on the opposite side of the road. “How about we meet at that cafe on Sunday evening?”

“Sure, I will bring back a spick and span jacket, I promise,” you said and asked, “6 PM sounds good?”

“6 PM sounds perfect,” the man nodded and waved back at you as you went your way - the kitten in the carrier in one hand, his jacket in the other and your bag, now draped as a sling across your body. He doesn’t know how long he stood there. But he kept staring your way for five seconds longer after your silhouette disappeared over the horizon.

Taglist: @majiiisstuff, @starlighttaek8, @yoongrace

[astxrwar]

ties that bind [5/x]

SUMMARY: Quentin Beck– your old college biology professor– is still a bastard. Apparently, you’re kind of in to that.

RATING: M

WORD COUNT: 7k+

CONTENT + WARNINGS: Emotional manipulation (a given,,,). The general vibes associated with that. Sex scene will be chapter 6 because it got too long, this one is just plot and developing the AU + character. I take liberties with RC because you kinda have to in long-form works; if you're an experienced cook no you're not and if you're allergic to sesame seeds no you're not.

If you're still reading this series we're married now btw. love u babes, mwah.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4 | [PART 5]

Beck says nothing else between the car and the elevator, nothing as he presses the only slightly-tarnished silver button for the third floor, still nothing as the doors glide open and nothing when they close, either. The silence begins to coalesce like its own entity, something that pulses and breathes, alive, expanding to fill the rest of the too-small space of the elevator car; something he is, of course, unaffected by. Whatever tension is building inside of you feels precarious, uncontrolled, like a shaken-up can of coke in the seconds before an unsuspecting hand cracks the tab open, an unchecked ignition system with the fuse dwindled all the way down to nothing but a fine powder of ash, the silence before something explodes, because it has to, pressure building too high for too long, until there’s no other recourse or hope for respite. It’s nerves, and you know that, the feeling, but it’s not like anything you’ve ever felt before, better and worse and more, now, in ways that you still can’t fully comprehend or explain.

Beck studies you wordlessly from the opposite side of the elevator car as it moves upwards, the motion so fluid that if it weren’t for a small digital panel above the door, the floor numbers ticking by in glowing fluorescent red, you wouldn’t be able to tell it was even moving at all. 

“Have you eaten?” He asks, cutting clean through that silence. It calms whatever tumultuous thing is coiling in your belly, even if only temporarily, the mundanity of the question striking and strange enough to draw your attention away from it for the moment.

“No,” you answer, quieter than you’d meant to, eyes flitting up to meet his and then glancing away again of their own accord, skittering back to the panel with the glowing red two now displayed and then to the doors, gleaming and reflective, the carpet, brand-new, only faintly discolored along the common path into and out of the car, a dappled pattern of overlapping shoe prints beginning to wear into it there. “I have my wallet, we can order something, if you want—“

Beck makes a sound; not a laugh, more just a particularly harsh exhale, dismissive and uninterested. “I’m making dinner, you can get yourself whatever you’d like if you won’t eat real food.”

The display panel ticks over to three and the doors slide open, a pleasant, bell-like chime announcing the stop; you follow him out into a carpeted hallway that’s painted a bland shade of steel blue and lined with wall-mounted lamps, like a hotel. There are windows on one side, spaced evenly down the length of the wall, and from this height you can see past the lines of barren, skeletal trees, the lights of cars as they trawl like beetles along the winding length of the road in the distance. 

“What do you think I usually eat, then, if I don’t eat ‘real food’ ,” you say, instead of any of the other things that you’re thinking about— your nerves, still, trembling like the wings of a bird in the hollow of your throat, or the strangeness of him offering you dinner, or the entirely predictable way he can make that, even, sound like it’s a dig at your expense.

“Takeout,” Beck answers pointedly, mouth twitching up at the corners; you’ve arrived at his door, the numbers 34 pasted in neat silver leaf below the rounded inset glass of the peek-hole, reflective and glinting in the light from the hallway, and as he rummages in the pockets of his coat for his key and slots it into the lock you can hear your own pulse thrumming loud in your ears. “Frozen pizza, boxed mac and cheese, microwave ramen, anything they sell at the dollar store,” it clicks, and the door handle turns, and he looks at you, grinning in earnest now,  “Hot pockets, probably.”

“Oh my god,” is all you can really say to that— because, yeah, he’s described to a T the off-campus-student-with-no-meal-plan diet, and you’re not even really any good at lying to him even when you’re not feeling some dubious combination of off-balance and dangerously out of your depth, so you decide that you’re better off not even trying. “You don’t have to be an asshole about it.”

“I’m actually not trying to be, this time,” he replies, amused, as he pushes the door open and moves into the darkened foyer, hand sliding along the wall until he finds the switch and the hall is illuminated by the artificially-white glow of the ceiling light. “I was also a grad student once; I do still remember it.”

 As you pass the threshold and press the door closed behind you, he follows with, “Take off your shoes.”

You do, stepping on the heels of your well-worn sneakers to slide them off, one foot, and then the next, stacking them in the tray by the door next to his impeccably-clean and perfectly-polished black oxfords. There’s another set of sneakers there, too, much nicer and much newer than yours, and a pair of thick-treaded black winter boots, the laces wound up together in a neat little ring, tied off to keep them from unraveling, tucked in behind the tongues of the shoes. 

Ahead of you, Beck has moved further into the apartment; he sheds his coat and hangs it in a small closet at the end of the hallway, his laptop bag, too, and gestures for you to do the same with your backpack. There are other doors, one on each side of the hall, and you wonder briefly what might lay beyond them as you trail behind him, your footsteps muted and the hardwood floor cool through the relatively thin barrier of your socks. 

He flicks on another set of lights, brightening the kitchen enough for you to see the whole of it; a high ceiling and low-hanging light fixtures and clean granite countertops, the two-section sink and drying rack both empty of dishes, a keurig machine and a toaster and a blender and other assorted appliances all pushed back against the wall, spotless and free of dust. His apartment looks like a showroom, like some sort of facsimile edition of a place where real breathing people live, and you mean to say that to him in a way that you intend to be insulting, but you find when you go to speak that your mouth is dry and your tongue is uncooperative and the words don’t even arrange themselves correctly inside your head, anyways. All of this feels suddenly very real, the cool stone countertop when you press your fingers against it, the faint draft of air moving through his apartment, drawn from the windows lining one side of the wall– and his eyes on you, something you can feel without even having to look at him, like a warm, solid weight on your shoulders.

Behind you, you hear the sound of some door pulling open, the rush of colder air against your back; the fridge, probably. 

“What are you making?” you say without turning, suppressing that nervous tension, forcing it down inside of you as deep as it will go.

“Nothing complicated,” he replies. “Stir fry. Probably one of the easiest things, actually, if you ever decide to stop eating garbage.”

“Didn’t we just establish you also ate like shit during grad school?” You do turn, at that, so that he can see your face when you pointedly roll your eyes. “Besides, I just– I don’t really have time to cook. Or the energy, honestly.”

“Cooking doesn’t take much time or energy, that’s a poor excuse,” he replies, and you’re halfway through formulating a more-than-slightly-defensive response when he continues, “Learning to cook takes time and energy. You don’t have time or energy to learn , right now.”

The abrupt transition from what you’d assumed would be another insult to a gentle and even understanding correction– it makes something inside of you lurch like the feeling you get when you miss a step walking down a staircase, your balance thrown off and your center of gravity ending up somewhere unexpected.

“Really unnecessary amount of semantic nitpicking,” you say, the words tumbling out uncertain and unsteady, not sure if the warmth you feel is irritation or something else entirely.

He grins, one of those calculating ones that makes you feel like he knows something you don’t.  “It’s necessary if one statement is true and the other isn’t.”

You don’t respond to that, and in the silence you move further into the kitchen, taking residence on a bar stool on the side closest to the living room. You hadn’t seen, before, what Beck had taken from the freezer, but you can see it now; a block of tofu, semi-defrosted, dripping beads of condensation onto the countertop.

“You’re vegetarian?” You can’t keep the note of incredulity out of your voice, and you don’t try, either, knowing by now that he’d notice regardless.

Beck moves to the counter space by the sink, pulls a shining silver knife from the block on the counter and a cutting board from one of the cabinets below. “No,” he says, “But I don’t eat meat frequently. I assume you know enough about epidemiology to figure that out for yourself.”

He doesn’t say it like a compliment, more like a basic and trivial fact, but it still kind of– registers as one. That he just expects you to know things. You’d thought his general opinion of you to be markedly worse than that. “Lifestyle disease?”

He hums in affirmative—that, too, sounding expectant and unsurprised— unfolding the block of tofu from the plastic wrap which he discards, and placing it on the cutting board. “Bodies aren’t miracles, they’re machines. Machines need to be treated well if we want them to last.”

“Nice rendition on the much simpler ‘you should eat healthy because it’s good for you’,” you say, through something that you are deciding to call a snicker instead of a giggle, for– reasons. “You are so not beating the Patrick Bateman allegations.” 

Beck finally looks up at that, and his face does the same thing it did in the car– the mask, or whatever annoyingly impenetrable facade he maintains, it slips, for second, his face relaxes and his mouth twitches up and his eyebrow raises a little, maybe unintentionally, the sum of his features far more expressive than you’re accustomed to, surprise and amusement and something else you don’t recognize flickering across them in quick succession. “Allegations,” he repeats, nonplussed, almost a question, and then, with an undercurrent of humor, “You’ve seen American Psycho ? That movie is almost as old as you are.” 

“Not beating the allegations- it’s just a saying. It means, like, you’re living up to a stereotype.” You register what might have been a jab at your age a few moments too late to even really react to it, and you think that it should probably make you feel uncomfortable or uneasy or anything, really, but it doesn’t– which does make you uncomfortable. Because you should care. Presumably. “And, yeah, I had a computer. I think I pirated it when I was like, fifteen.”

“I had it on VHS, for a while, when I was in high school; I was too young to see it in theaters when it came out.” Beck has already turned back to the task at hand, moved to another set of cabinets under the counters further from you to pull out a large, high-walled pan. You can see, though, from the light in the kitchen, the way that his mouth tugs up at the corners still, like he can’t quite suppress it completely. “You think I could be a serial killer, and you still willingly came to my house?”

“Do I need to explain the concept of a joke to you?” you reply, intending for it to be sardonic and scathing but finding that it really just sounds like you’re teasing him. The way a friend might. And god, that’s–

(Weird. Bad. Maybe neither— is that worse?)

(You’re not going to think about it.)

He doesn’t say anything back, just hums under his breath, low and amused and barely audible, and takes out a set of bowls from a cabinet above his head that he places on the counter.

“Go in the pantry and grab me the soy sauce and sesame oil,” he says after a moment, fixing you with a look in the seconds before it registers, “I’m not your personal chef, you’re going to help.”

It still takes a moment, after that, for the request to click. Even when you do get up to do as he’d asked, you take a moment to stretch out, first, before moving anywhere, reaching your arms up to the ceiling– he looks sidelong at you and you think his eyes might linger on the revealed expanse of your stomach where your sweater had risen up, and something low and warm inside of you is fucking satisfied by that.

“You say that like you wouldn’t still be doing this if I weren’t here,” you say when he looks away.

“I would,” he acknowledges as you approach him, and tips his head towards the closed door to his right. “But since you went and lost your keys and are now intruding on my weekend, the least you can do is make yourself useful.”

The remark is so at odds with the series of events that had brought you here in the first place and in such direct contrast with his own behavior that the slight doesn’t even really register; rolls right off, like water. “Right, because this is such an inconvenience to you.” 

A smile twitches at the corners of his mouth, and there’s that new strange feeling again, like somebody’s filled your whole body with buzzing TV static. 

You find the pantry at his earlier direction, open the door and scan the rows of shelves, as spotless and impeccably organized as everything else in his apartment. The sesame oil and soy sauce are just below eye height and next to each other among a neat line of various other ingredients– cooking wine and white vinegar and molasses and more that you don’t take notice of in the time it takes to grab what he’d asked for and close the door again. 

“Fridge,” he says when you place the bottles on the counter beside him, having finished cutting the tofu into neat squares that he sweeps off the cutting board and into a bowl with the flat of his knife. “Broccoli and green peppers, they’ll be in the bottom drawer on the left.”

His fridge is one of those massive gleaming silver ones with the double-doors and built-in water and ice dispenser, and it, like everything else, is pristine and neatly kept; you find both items where he’d directed you, still wrapped in those paper-thin plastic bags from the grocery store. 

“There’s beer in the door, by the way, if you want any.”

True to word there are bottles lined in the trays on the left inside shelf— wheat and fruit varieties, mostly, light and tolerable and kind of surprising; you’d have pegged him as a snobby IPA type— though you decide that, despite his often incomprehensible devotion to being an asshole at all times, you still can’t abandon the weird sort of obligations that come with being a guest in someone else’s home. Namely, the feeling that it was somehow improper to accept an offer not also indulged in by the host. “Do you?” 

He considers it for a second. “Yeah, I’ll take one.”

“Anything specific?”

“No,” There’s that edge, again, more teasing than anything else, and you ignore that, too— the difference, the lack of overt malice— with an ease that should probably be concerning, “I like all of them, that’s why they’re there. Pick one and come here, you’re making this more difficult than it needs to be.”

The words come here, because you’re pathetic, they drag that winding coil of tension in the pit of your stomach back to the surface, but then the fridge begins to beep at you–you’ve kept it open for too long, presumably– and so you push the thoughts back down and blindly pick two from the bottom rack, allowing the doors to fall closed again. 

At the counter he’s already portioned out snap peas he must have pulled from the freezer earlier, and mixed what you assume to be a sauce together in another bowl.

“Start cutting them up,” he says as he takes one of the bottles from your outstretched hands, nodding towards the vegetables you’d grabbed from the fridge, and then the cutting board, moved further down the counter to a spot where you’d have the space to stand alongside him. Beck doesn’t wait for your response; he turns and flicks on the stove and pours sesame oil down the sides of the pan, not bothering with measurements, just eyeing it with a practiced and familiar ease. He’s rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, cuffs neatly folded and edges creased, probably while you were in the fridge, and the tanned and solid expanse of his forearms— you’re not staring, not exactly, but you’re aware of it as you rinse the peppers and the head of broccoli in the sink, the sight of him in your periphery. The oil crackles in the pan, browns and aromatizes, fills the kitchen with the smell, fragrant and rich like salt and nuts and caramel; your eyes keep getting drawn back to him, the muscles and the tendons flexing in his hands as he moves to add the already-prepared ingredients, sprinkles salt and red pepper, lifts and shakes the pan to toss the contents of it— 

“If you want to be of any use to me, that needs to be done before this is,” he says, tone deceptively mild. You’re barely halfway through cutting the broccoli up into approximately bite-sized pieces, and at his comment your eyes flicker away from where they’d drifted to him again.

You don’t say anything in response, just try to focus more intently on the task, slower and more clumsy and comparatively unskilled as you are at it; it’s not like it’s difficult, really, it’s just one of those things that’s borne out of practice, of which you had little, considering your circumstances. Begrudgingly, you acknowledge to yourself that he’d been right, before, about the challenge being less the actual cooking than the learning of it, something you had next to no energy for– much less the desire to do– as a seemingly perpetually-busy grad student. 

Some time during your finishing dividing up the broccoli and setting a pepper on the wooden surface of the cutting board he must have turned the stove down, set the pan aside; you feel him behind you before you really even know that he’s there, the air changing, growing warmer with his presence. 

“You’re going too slow.”

You hum, in response, before you try to speak, making sure your voice isn’t going to betray you and crumble the second you say anything in return, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he says, unconcerned, and for whatever reason that, too, feels like– something. Something weird.  “You’re learning.”

When he moves closer, his head above your shoulder, his arms bracketing yours and his hands lingering somewhere near your wrists, your breathing catches and your pulse picks up and that thing inside of you— the thing that had never really gone away in the first place, hadn’t ever faded or lessened at all since you first got out of his car, that ever-widening chasm of your own want like a fucking fault in the earth that you’d just somehow been managing to ignore this whole time— it rears its head again, dizzying, requisitions the bulk of your attention span to the point where you nearly nick your fingers. 

“Wow, actually, maybe you’re not learning,” he murmurs, gently mocking, low in your ear as his hands move down to overlay your own, steadying your grip on the knife. “So much for making yourself useful.”

“I’m not great at tuning out distractions,” you tell him, and in your head you imagine you say it with enough bite to imply that he’s being annoying, but in reality it just comes out soft, plaintive– a confession rather than an accusation.

“Oh, really? Couldn’t tell.” You can hear the smile, bleeding into the tone of his voice.

With him directing you, it goes much faster, turning with one hand and cutting with the other, the movements methodical and clean; rationally, you know it must have been no more than a minute or two, but it feels like so much longer and so much shorter, somehow, your perception defying all sense of logic, your entire body thrumming with the awareness of him, the broad span of his chest and the places it’s almost touching your shoulders, his hands, steady and warm and rough, his breathing, too, the rhythm of it against the shell of your ear, the goosebumps it sends prickling across your neck—

“There,” he says when it’s done, when he steps back and the air goes cold and that stupid thing inside of you twinges with an embarrassing amount of disappointment, “Not so hard.”

Beck returns to the stove, cranks the heat back up; you swallow and steady your breathing and reach for your beer on the counter, the top already having been cracked open for you; when he’d even had time to do that, you have no idea, but you murmur a quiet thanks as you reach for it and drain a long sip, if only to have something to do.

“Garbage is the drawer on the left by the wall,” he says over his shoulder, “Just throw out what’s left over and put the dishes in the sink. The bottles away, too,” he jerks his head towards the sesame oil and the soy sauce, “And then you’re good.”

“And then I’ll have made up for ‘ intruding on your weekend’ ?” you reply, still far softer than you’d intended it to be as you move through the tasks, tossing the seeded pepper cores and the stump of broccoli in the garbage alongside the scraps from the cutting board, placing that and a stack of bowls in the sink.

His answering chuckle is soft and low, the particulars of his expression blocked from view by the pantry door as you replace the items you’d pulled from there. “No, honey, then you’ll have helped with dinner. Making up for intruding on my weekend–” When he laughs again, the sound is a lot less kind than before; and maybe he’s amused by the reference, or maybe the circumstance, or maybe something else entirely, some other thing that only he knows about, a punchline to a joke that you’re not in on. “You will.”

It’s the way that he says it, probably, or the particulars of the words– the difference between you will and you can that seems impossibly large and unfathomably significant in this context– but it makes your breath catch and your pulse tremble and that warmth– the heat– it rages back before he’s even really finished speaking, searing and unavoidable like somebody had turned the gas on a stove up to the very top or just gone and broken the dial off completely. You could blame what happens next on the effect of all of a half a beer on an otherwise-empty stomach or the terrible realization of both being so far beyond outside of your depth and having lost control of whatever tenuous hold you ever really had on your own desire, but–

The last bottle– does not even matter which one it is and you don’t fucking care anyway– slips from your fingers a centimeter from the edge of the shelf, and though you catch it before it hits the ground and return it, more carefully, this time, to its’ place, you know— you just do, even though you can’t see him, even though he can’t see you, even though he’s ostensibly busy, preoccupied, not paying attention — that he still somehow notices it, too.

You don’t eat at the table, because he does not, strictly speaking, have one. What he has instead is just one of those chest-high dividing walls that acts to partially separate the kitchen from the currently unlit living room, outfitted with enough counter space to hold dishes for maybe a grand total of four guests. The food cools in the pan until the sound of crackling oil fades and then goes silent completely, leaving just the steam to rise from it and spiral up towards the ceiling in wavering lines; Beck brings it over to the bar, then, uses a fork to fill both plates, and sets the pan in the sink. 

You mumble a thanks, to which he responds with a noncommittal, wordless hum; you eat mostly in silence, perched on the stool you’d sat in before, on the end of the bar outside the kitchen. He sits across from you and you try not to look at him too often, but you’re certain you don’t succeed, as much as you’re certain that he must know, somehow, must be keenly aware of each and every time that you glance up at him— at his forearms, his sleeves still rolled to his elbows, his chest, too, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, the heat of the stove having softened the crisp, pressed lines of it, his tie gone, discarded at some point. He looks more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, more at ease, and you are affected by that, apparently.

He finishes eating before you, and you watch him then, too, as he moves around the kitchen, slotting his plate and the silverware and the used bowls into the dishwasher, scrubbing clean the cutting board, setting it to dry, washing the knife by hand with a sponge in the sink and returning it to the block on the counter.

“You’re so organized,” you blurt out, without meaning to, suddenly aware that your beer is less than half full, probably less than a quarter, and you’d drank most of it well before you’d eaten anything. 

“I take it I’m still not beating the Patrick Bateman allegations, then,” he replies, with a grin you could only really describe as conspiratorial. For a second you don’t realize he’s actually made a joke that wasn’t at your expense– one that was, actually, weirdly, at his own– and when it registers you’ll blame being halfway drunk for the involuntary and genuine and utterly helpless burst of laughter that escapes you before you can even so much as think to stop it. 

Whatever emotion passes briefly across his face in response to that seems almost pleased. But it’s late and you’re tipsy and unthinking and it’s easy to just not worry about it, any of it, to just let yourself react like you would in any other interaction with anyone else, for once unconcerned with the machinations of whatever game he’s always playing. 

“I was actually– ” you start, the words stumbling to a halt when you find yourself laughing again, and when they start back up they come spilling from you faster than your brain can comprehend, a precarious situation that results in far more honesty than you intended.  “That was— it was kind of a compliment.”

“A compliment,” he repeats, the tone of his voice mocking and sly; his expression has shifted to one of those pointed and intentional looks, the corners of his mouth curled up, not a smile and not even really a nice thing at all, but the rush of warmth that floods your face in response is still immediate and abjectly fucking damning. “And here I thought you would sooner drop dead than ever entertain so much as a positive thought about me.”

Part of the flush in your cheeks, you reason, is probably the alcohol, another part the way it’s gotten warmer in the kitchen with the stovetop on, but there’s still some that’s just due to whatever thing that’s been simmering inside of you this whole time– the way it’s buzzing, right now, nervous and flighty and alive as you watch him move back towards you. He’s grabbed two more beers from the fridge, with his empty, and yours nearly there; the thought occurs to you to decline, in the interest of preserving whatever remains of your ability for clear-headed and rational thought, but–

You realize, with far less shame than you figure you should be feeling, you don’t actually want to preserve that at all. 

“I don’t have to like someone to recognize they can have good qualities,” you say, flippant, more relaxed than you feel, “Everyone does. You’re still a human being, even if you do get on my nerves.”

Beck goes quiet and still for a second, takes a long, slow sip from his beer, and then fixes you with this look that’s so intense it’s unsettling. “So, what, you don’t like me, then?”

Something in your subconscious prickles at the question or maybe just at the fact that he’d even asked it; he doesn’t sound offended, or upset, or even like he cares much at all either way, which doesn’t surprise you. But you can’t figure out exactly why he would be asking, otherwise. You take another sip of your beer, finishing the bottle; wordlessly, Beck reaches across the table for the second one, and cracks the top open on the edge of the counter; you murmur a quiet thanks as he sets it beside you.

“I mean– you definitely don't like me, so I don’t see how that would be unexpected,” you say after a while, not really answering outright, unsure you would even be able to. Not knowing for certain what the answer even is, anymore. 

Beck blinks, expressionless for a second, before he breaks out into another smile, this one markedly unkind, suspended somewhere between derision and incredulity. “Of course I like you,” he says, in a tone like he’s talking to a particularly stubborn or particularly stupid child, and if he were saying anything else right then maybe you would have remembered to be irritated at him for that. “You’re— god, sometimes you’re so obtuse. I mean, you’re smart as a whip, really, but you’re just– clueless.”

And–

None of that makes sense to you, and you get the feeling that the alcohol isn’t to blame, that even stone-cold sober you would still be left parsing this same inexplicable and fundamentally contradictory amalgam of facts and secondary emotions– one, he thinks you’re smart, really smart, even, and there’s a part of you that does something awful and pathetic like fucking preens at that, and two, he also apparently and simultaneously thinks you’re stupid, which isn’t that much of a surprise, and three, perhaps most confusing of them all–

“What the fuck do you mean, you— you like me?” 

Beck exhales, this long-suffering sound as if you’ve proved his point by even asking, and says, “Really, just– it’s not complicated. Exactly what it sounds like.” He drains probably a quarter of his second beer, leans forwards on his elbows, and shrugs. “You said that I dislike you, and I’m saying that you’re wrong.” 

“Okay, I don’t–” you tear your eyes from him, stare hard at your plate, pushing a browned piece of broccoli around the mostly-empty edges of it with the tines of your fork, certain you can feel the actual cogs inside of your head as they turn, uselessly, stuck in place and uncomprehending. “That doesn’t make any sense. You– I mean, you’ve basically had a vendetta against me since I was in undergrad.”

“No,” he says, that patient, vaguely annoyed quality still lingering in the word, and when you look up again his eyes are fixed on you, dark and unreadable, “I had an interest in you.” 

“An interest in, what– bothering me?”

“Something like that.” The barest traces of humor infiltrate his otherwise still indecipherable expression. “You’re easily bothered, honey.”

“So, what, you—“ you stop to take another sip of your beer, head spinning, “You bother me on purpose, for years, and then you’re confused that I actually might not have liked you very much? At all, even?”

“I knew full well you didn’t like me. It didn't matter and it still doesn’t,” he says, with a level of disregard that you know, objectively, should concern you, “I’m not asking about then. I’m asking about now.”

Whatever your immediate response to that dries up as soon as you open your mouth, like your thoughts are flying by so quickly you can’t hold onto them long enough to figure out how to say them. You know, somewhere, deep down, that you should be angrier than you are about this. That you should be a lot of other things, too, things that are stronger and more important than anger– you should feel victimized, probably, violated , even, uncomfortable and uneasy and unsafe , knowing that he’d had some sort of fixation with you and with garnering your frustration for what amounts to numerous actual years. A subconscious part of you, though, might have already known a lot of that– or at the very least suspected it– since the very beginning of whatever the fuck this whole thing has even become, and there was that to contend with, too. But right now he’s admitting to it, all of it, explicitly; the intentional provocation and the unabashed harassment and the fact that he hadn’t cared at all about your feelings or your opinions or anything you thought that whole time– because it didn’t matter to him, not when what you felt had no direct impact on his ability to get what he wanted from you. He’s admitting that, presumably, the reason he feels some approximation of care– no, not even, just interest, cold and objective and impersonal– regarding those things now is because now it actually can impact things. What you feel about him now could absolutely stop him from getting whatever it is that he wants from you– sex, presumably, though he clearly still enjoys getting under your skin, too-- because now you have no contractual obligation to even so much as exchange pleasantries with him anymore, much less be here, in his house. You could leave, easily, never see him again if that’s what you wanted, if you really disliked him that much. 

He doesn’t want that, you realize, with a dawning understanding. He does not want you to dislike him, at least not enough to drive you away. Not now, because now– now it runs counter to his own interests.

“I don’t know,” you say finally, looking up at him and feeling unsteady just in doing it, not sure whether your instincts should be telling you to do now– because they aren't telling you to do anything more than what they’ve pretty much always done every time you’ve so much as seen him in the last four months. You still want him, the maddening and terrible way that you feel like you always do just at the sight of him alone, that desire simmering right under your skin, and maybe in the moment you could blame the one-and-a-half beers or the time or the circumstance, but none of that would really even be true. Your survival instincts, what little of them you even possess to begin with, have always, always been next to nonexistent when it comes to this. 

Him. 

Whatever.

God, none of this would be an issue if the sex was worse. If it was even just average. Or even–

“So you don’t, then,” he replies, and as soon as he speaks it’s like your awareness snaps to him, narrows and refines like adjusting a microscope, everything falling outside the edges of the lens drifting out of focus. Your thoughts; your ability to reason, too, probably. This was a terrible, terrible idea, you had thought that in the hallway in the biology building what feels like actual lifetimes ago, and you’d been right, then; you should not be here. 

It’s alarming, the way that you can’t even seem to summon up the will to care.

“I said I don’t know.” That horrible iniquitous thing in your belly coils itself tighter, twisting in on itself like a snake, hollow and starving, like it wants to sink teeth into him, and would do it, too, if he were closer.

“Right. And maybe you don’t,” Beck replies, as if to say, I do , a hard gleam of satisfaction in his eyes that betrays the otherwise light, conversational cadence of his voice. 

You don’t respond to that. In your belly, that heat pulses and burns brighter. 

There’s a silence, then, drawn out and excruciatingly unbearable, and during it you drain the rest of your beer, maybe just to do something with your hands, relieve that nervous itch in your fingers. Maybe to chase the feeling of being somewhere beyond your own control– because that’s what you wanted, isn’t it? Because– well,  presumably because there is something fucking wrong with you.

“Thank you,” you say, after a long while, “For dinner.”

Whatever you see in his expression then; it seems like enjoyment. Like he’s pleased. And while you could almost understand all the rest of the things you’d just seen from him–

You don’t understand that.

“It’s late,” he says, with a casual nonchalance, taking your plate from you to the dishwasher and waving a dismissive hand at your protests, you being an adult who is perfectly capable of putting your own dishes away, and all. 

When he turns back, you rise from the bar stool and meet him halfway, in the middle of the kitchen. Like this, you have to tip your head back to look at him, just a little, and whatever shameless thing inside of you that you try so hard to repress when you’re not tipsy and unthinking is way too into that, but seeing as you are both of those things at the moment, you don’t care. That feeling, the climbing, steady warmth; it just spreads further, sweeps through your limbs and fills every part of you, until you think it must overtake every cell in your body. Until it’s all you can think about.

He looks at you, for a second, and one of those slow, sharp smiles curves across his face. When he moves past you and towards the living room,he steps into your space to do it– on purpose, you know it’s on purpose, if there’s ever anything you’re absolutely sure about when it comes to him it’s that everything is always on fucking purpose– and you can’t stop any of the things that you know must happen; the way your body must go tense and strung taut with anticipation or how your breathing must catch somewhere in your throat or how your pupils must dilate, the breadth of your irises reduced to just a tiny sliver of color–

“Come on,” he says, without looking back, voice unbearably even. “I’ll put something on the TV.”

And–

That feeling inside of you– it pulses and trembles and wants, and then it doesn’t really matter what you do or don’t understand or what little sense you could ever make of his behavior or motivations, because–

You understand this, at least.

[undergaunts]

Call Me Baby (Chapter 2) (Chapter 1 here)

Sebastian Sallow x Ominis Gaunt (Modern!AU)

Summary: The text chat logs between Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt during their 6th and 7th year at Hogwarts. (or Sebastian and Ominis can't bear to be apart for longer than 5 minutes, so spend their entire summer, winter and spring breaks texting and calling each other)

Rating: Teen & Up (this will go up in the next chapter!)

Word count: 6.4k

Recommended to read on AO3 as the layout is better but it’s also below the cut <3

SUMMER

July 1st, 6:14pm

sebastian changed their name to ss

July 2nd, 10:02am

Ominis

Hello Sebastian. I just wanted to let you know I have one of your books. You’d left it in Transfiguration so Professor Weasley gave it to me. I tried to tell her but she wouldn’t listen. I’ll pass it on to Anne when we get back to school. 

From anne ^_^ to Ominis

July 4th, 11:07am

anne ^_^

has he responded yet? 

Ominis

No. I’m not surprised.

anne ^_^

to be honest me neither.

he’s such an idiot, I’m sorry. 

Ominis

It isn’t your fault, Anne. We both know how he can be when he’s upset. 

anne ^_^

yeah but to go like, what, 3 months now? hardly talking to you is SO weird.

he gets annoyed and is super stubborn a lot but to go this long being the way he is is just off

Ominis

It is how it is, I suppose. I can only see that he felt we were pushing boundaries too far and had to take a step back.

anne ^_^

but not like this, and what do you mean? 

Ominis

After we changed our display names, apparently several of our classmates contacted him asking if we were dating, or assuming we were. We do - did - spend a lot of time together, but the name change was purely a joke. I think it may have had more consequences than expected for Sebastian. 

anne ^_^

but he was the one who told you to do it, no?

Ominis

Yes.

anne ^_^

so why was it too far?

Ominis

I think it was more the questions of us being a couple. It’s a preposterous idea but if pushed too far, some people may believe it and unfortunately people did. I think he’s really just wanted to distance himself from me to prove it wasn’t true. 

anne ^_^

hmm. i just can’t see that being the issue though

he’s always been so touchy feely with you, just changing your names and having people ask if you’re dating doesn’t seem like something he’d just stop being your friend over.

and you never argued?

Ominis

Oh, we argued. A fair amount. But not recent to our last conversation. 

anne ^_^

and he didnt say anything to you over the phone or anything?

Ominis

No. Truly, Anne, I believe my theory wholeheartedly. And it’s fine. I still have you. I hope, at least. 

anne ^_^

oh ominis, always!

but he’s been really cold to me too, so i think there’s more going on. I’m certain it’s not just what you think. give me a couple days to try and speak to him, ok?

let me know if you want to talk at any point <3

Ominis

Of course. Thank you :)

from anne ^_^ to ss

July 5th, 11:15am

anne ^_^

where r u?

ss

dw

anne ^_^ 

smh where r u

ss

why?

anne ^_^

ffs seb

do i need to ask a third time

ss

on a walk it’s a nice day

anne ^_^

ok but where

ss

gods anne do u want me to just send my location or something ?!

anne ^_^

please

ss

really?? look i just want to be alone today ok

anne ^_^

uve wanted to be alone everyday for like 3 months

ss

im good company, what can i say

anne ^_^

not the way uve been moping about ur not. me and ominis r really worried abt u

ss

whats he got to do with it?

anne ^_^

everything???? he’s ur best friend and suddenly u act like u wld rather try to tame 50 graphorns at once than be around him.

look we r just worried ok? just want to know whats going on

ss 

anne im fine. look im just trying to come to terms with some things and id rather do it alone

anne ^_^

what? ur dramatic ass honestly

like what?

ss

like leaving hogwarts next year 

and stuff

anne ^_^

so u ignore ur favourite thing about it ?!

ss

what? hes not

there r other things i like way more than him

anne ^_^

such as ???!!

since the moment u met ominis u havent shut up about him, u used to wake up everyday at school and the first thing u would do would be go and wake him up because u didnt want to do anything without him

i mean just this last year u spent 24/7 with him at hogwarts and then u get home aND CONTINUE TO TALK TO HIM 24/7

and i know u didnt have an argument or anything, all that happened was that people thought u were dating for like 5 minutes and then u stop talking 

like if it wasn’t so insane to suggest id swear u were in love with him and people worked it out before u which made u work it out so now u cant deal with being around him and dont want to talk to anyone in case they mention him LOL

11:51am

anne ^_^

seb

12:07

anne ^_^

seb

12:12

anne ^_^

seb

ss

:/

anne ^_^

??

ss

…

anne ^_^

what?

ss

…

anne ^_^

WHAT?

oh

oh seb

im sorry i didnt mean to laugh i really didnt think

oh please come back home :( or at least tell me where u r. i dont wanna do this over text :(

ss

id much rather text, i think i would cry in person

anne ^_^

:( ok

im really sorry, i wish u wouldve told me

i knew u loved him i just didnt realise in that way

i mean ok maybe i sort of did if i guessed that but Gods seb :(

ss

yeah i guess everyone sort of knew before me then? which has been the craziest thing

when everyone was sending me messages asking if we were dating i was so confused cos the whole name thing was clearly a joke, then it hit me like a tonne of bricks and i realised it just wasn’t. i dont think it’s ever been a joke. like ive told people no no it was a joke stop acting weird

but the only one acting weird is me

anne ^_^

seb :(

i cant imagine how uve been feeling

i wish u wouldve told me at least, even if u werent totally sure i could’ve helped, i couldve still supported u

ss

im sorry, genuinely, its just been hard

i mean i assumed i only liked girls for my whole life, and i do, i think they’re pretty and stuff but then i realised every girl ive ever dated ive ditched to be with him? and when i have gone on a date ive just talked about him.

all i do is think about him

ive kept rereading our texts and merlin all i do is flirt, badly but still

it’s just so stupid 

fuck sorry it’s all sort of just coming out

anne ^_^

literally

ss

huh

anne ^_^

coming out, literally

ss

oh 

LMAO thanks i laughed out loud for probs the first time in months

anne ^_^

:D

sorry haha i didn’t mean to cut u off please continue

ss

no it’s ok

hes my best friend and ive ruined it by being in love, and then ive ruined it even more by just not talking to him. ugh I just...what do i even do? u kno he messaged me the other day and it made me cry. i was sitting on a rock by the lake crying like a loser. like wtf. i still haven’t replied

anne ^_^

i think he just wants u back. he really misses u. honestly he won’t admit it because hes sort of just accepted u hate him 

and u know how proper he is haha but he’s devastated

ss

u think?

anne ^_^

r u dumb?

don’t answer tht. of course he is. ur literally his best friend. his entire world. he loves u

it might not be in the way u want but he would die for u I reckon. PLEASE talk to him :( Ik it’s going to be hard but ur best friends at the end of the day, to throw it all away would be silly

ss

i know ur right. if i reply to him i might vomit

anne ^_^

worth it please?

ss

let me think. but i probably will at some point. ur right. he is my best friend first

gods im sorry

anne ^_^

don’t need to apologise to me but i think u should apologise to him

ss

yeah i will

thank u

anne ^_^

love u. come back home ??

ss

love u 2. i will soon

anne ^_^

<3

From anne ^_^ to Ominis

July 5th 2:43pm

anne ^_^

hey 

so news - he’s ok, he’s just dumb. he’s gonna message you soon

Ominis

Just dumb? I’m not sure I know what you mean. But I’m glad he’s well. 

anne ^_^

ah i’m not sure how i could explain it. it’s not really my thing to explain, but hopefully he will. well, he better or I’ll whack him over the head

Ominis

Could you do that anyway?

anne ^_^

LOL tempting

Ominis

Well thank you Anne.  I’m glad you got to the bottom of it, even if you won’t tell me!

anne ^_^

promise he will, one way or another. either he will or ive got a good sized book on magical beasts that might get his brain into working order 

Ominis

Haha. I shall look out for his message then. Thank you again. 

anne ^_^

no problem. speak soon :)

From Ominis to ss

July 2nd, 10:02am

Ominis

Hello Sebastian. I just wanted to let you know I have one of your books. You’d left it in Transfiguration so Professor Weasley gave it to me. I tried to tell her but she wouldn’t listen. I’ll pass it on to Anne when we get back to school. 

July 6th, 4:37am

ss

hi thank you that means a lot

sorry i didnt respond sooner

u can pass it on to me if it’s easier

<3

haha

8:45am

Ominis

Good morning Sebastian. I think I shall do that then. Thank you. 

9:23am

ss

kewl. sweet. sounds good

9:28am

ss

so are you

how have you

look im really sorry for acting the way i did recently. i know it probably seemed like i was angry at u but I wasnt, i was just going through something and i got a bit weird. but ive realised im stupid and im so sorry

i understand if u don’t want to talk to me anymore. i really do miss you. cutting you out like that was really horrible. ur my best friend and im really sorry :(

Ominis

I wish you would’ve spoken to me, Sebastian. If you were going through something - whatever it is - you know I’m here for you. Just like you’ve always been there for me. We can still speak about it, if you would like, but there’s no pressure. You don’t need to apologise. But I would like to go back to how things were, if possible? 

And you are also my best friend, by the way. You know I’m not one for sentimentality, but it’s true. 

ss

:’)

im honoured

sentimentominis haha

it’s really not important, im over it now

ok not really but

i would love to go back to how it was

but I love.

would u hate me if.

ive really missed u dude 

Ominis

And I you. Let’s put it behind us. But only if you promise not to shut me out again like that. Agreed?

ss

agreed :D

July 8th, 10:52am

ss

morning :)

Ominis

Good morning. 

ss

how u?

Ominis

Well. My mother, father and sister had gone to visit my brother for a fortnight, so I have the entire place to myself for the next five days. How are you?

ss

im good :) that’s cool haha why didnt u get dragged along?

Ominis

They left just before I returned from Hogwarts, thankfully. I may actually use their absence to my advantage this afternoon and choose a book from my father’s study. I’m not often allowed in there you see. 

ss

damn u sooooo rebellious 

well i guess u acc r with not being a bigot and stuff lol.

but i go looking for treasure in catacombs in the middle of the night and u go borrow a book from ur dad

Ominis

One must start somewhere. With your influence I may start a criminal trading ring. 

ss

wht wld u trade?

Ominis

Books, of course. The first book traded will be the one I pilfer from my father. The rest will then follow. 

ss

can i join?

Ominis

You’re my partner in this, so of course.

ss 

what kind of partner?

of course, travelling all over the country

Ominis

All over the world. On the run, mostly from my father for stealing that first book, but from all of the people we’ve swindled as well. It’s just the two of us, versus everyone else. 

ss

gods i love

Haha r u drunk?

Ominis

No. It seems like I should be though, doesn’t it?

ss

yes lol

so if ur home alone

ok crazy question, ik what ur probably gonna say but ill ask anyway - if ur on ur own why don’t i come over?

i mean i don’t have to come to the mAnOr but maybe we could walk around ur village or smth

it cant be that bad can it lol, i don’t have to stay over or anything, just might be nice to see u :)

Ominis

I’d like that. 

ss

really???? sure????????

Ominis

My house isn’t the nicest, I must forewarn you. It’s very old and rather grim and I’m certain is falling apart in places. It might be better to stay away from it, but I could probably at least show you the outside. 

ss

don’t care, have you seen mine lmao, me and anne literally had to nail the window closed because it just wouldn’t shut. trust me idc

Ominis

Mine may be worse than that. How does tomorrow around eleven sound?

ss

:D, yes perfect can’t wait 

Ominis

Wonderful. I look forward to it. 

July 9th, 11:43pm

ss

ik ur probably asleep but i just wanted to say i had so much fun today. ur house is so big haha im not susprised u used to get lost as a kid. but thank u for letting me see it and see u mostly

sleep well baby boy :)

July 12th, 5:18am

ss changed their display name to SEB!

SEB!

gmornin

9:22am

Ominis

Good morning. Did you sleep well? You were up early. 

SEB! 

kinda, someone has a rooster in the village so it woke me up bright and early lol there’s already plans to start a riot i think

Ominis

Well we can’t have that. Sebastian Sallow needs his beauty sleep. 

SEB!

oh you think im. so you do think im

im slowly growing uglier day by day as the rooster grows stronger, feeding off my youth 

Ominis

Ah, I actually don’t think it’s possible, your beauty is eternal, you see, but without any sleep you will not have the strength to fight back against the evil rooster and prevent it from world domination. 

SEB!

fuck so you do think im

swear ur drunk again haha

Ominis

I think it’s the fact I’m not having to deal with my mother and father, combined with the varying chemicals I’m certain are in the water here that are getting me ‘high’. 

SEB!

oh jeez haha srs? maybe u should come stay with me again then

Ominis

No. Well, there could be, but I don’t think that’s why I’m acting strange. I think I’m just happy to be talking to you again, in all honesty. :)

SEB!

i

ur

:)

what happened to Mr I’m-Not-One-For-Sentimentality?

Ominis

It seems I’ve grown soft, doesn’t it?

SEB!

is there another reason other than just

yea it’s weird!!

Ominis

I shall stop then. 

SEB!

no i love

no i like this Ominis :)

Ominis

If you’re sure. 

SEB!

totally, but i wasnt joking about u coming to stay again. could come stay the last 2 weeks again if u wanted

or even longer, up to u

Ominis

I’ll ask my father. But I would like that. I enjoyed last year, a lot. 

SEB!

me too, and this is our last summer at school so we should make the most of it!

Ominis

You’re right. I’ll see what I can do. 

SEB!

lmk wen u kno

Ominis

Will do. <3

SEB!

<3

<3

fuck

<3

July 16th, 10:32pm

Ominis

Would you like hear about my horrendous day?

SEB!

do tell. hold on

10:37pm

SEB!

ok, i have a cup of tea and some biscuits so im ready to listen lol

Ominis

I was very rudely awoken this morning by my sister, rather than the usual house elf, and ushered downstairs to where my entire family were huddled in the drawing room, as if someone had passed away. You see, apparently, after someone had tipped him off, my father had found out that the girl Marvolo was to marry was not pureblood at all!

SEB!

HORSE GIRL?

whaaaat really?

Ominis

Well, according to them, not pure enough. On her Mother’s side, her great, great grandmother was actually muggle-born. Which means her great, great, great grandparents were muggles. 

SEB!

oh my hahahahahahahaah oh i bet theyr all fuming

Ominis

That’s putting it lightly. Apparently the mother had not even told her husband or daughter about this until very recently, but they were still determined to go ahead with this marriage.

Of course my father and brother were out for blood. More so than ever before. Imagine what would’ve happened if the Gaunt name was tarnished by a minuscule percentage of muggle blood! And, God forbid, if she and Marvolo had ever had children, an even smaller percentage, ruining millennia of perfection!

SEB!

oh this is brilliant, i can imagine u standing there smiling the whole time

Ominis

I certainly would’ve, however we were then rushed to Paris by floo to call the whole thing off, if you can even describe it as ‘calling it off’. I wouldn’t have wished the sounds on my worst enemy, Sebastian. 

SEB!

all 5 of u??? wtf wait what happened, sorry i thought this was a funny story

Ominis

Thankfully I didn’t have to partake in anything this time around. Not like before. My sister made sure of that, I thank the gods for her. I know my mother wasn’t happy I didn’t stay to ‘help protect the Gaunt name’ as she put it. All I know was as soon as the doors closed, I’ve never heard sounds like it. And they tried to fight back. Of course they would, they’re wizards, not muggles, they’re not as easy to break. It was horrible. I hate them, this is so fucked up. Gods. I just 

SEB!

what?

Ominis r u home? R u ok????

Ominis

I’m home now, yes. I’m sorry. Saying it out loud has made me realise just what happened. It was utterly awful. 

SEB!

can i call?

Ominis

Please. 

SEB is calling Ominis

Call accepted

Call ended, 3hr, 11min

July 17th, 1:59am

Ominis

Thank you. For staying so long. You must go rest now, especially if that rooster is still about. 

SEB!

it is still here lol but idc, i wld stay on the phone all day with u if u wanted me to, ur so so undeserving of all this shit. u have done nothing wrong ok? ever. plz dont blame urself

ur so important to me. i promise this time next year u will be out of there. i will do whatever it takes. 

ur my

ur my baby boy and i love u lots

:)

Ominis

Thank you. I’m sorry. 

Love you too. 

Sweetheart. 

:)

SEB!

<3

7:34am

SEB!

i just read those messages again, and i mean it. I love you, Ominis. Like, full homo haha

i genuinely meant it when I said I love you, did you?

i love you in a gay way btw

marry me?

im not ever going to send any of these messages so idk why im even typing

July 19th, 10:33am

Ominis

Hi. Hope you slept well. Can we call when you're available?

SEB!

ofc!!

SEB! is calling Ominis

Call accepted

Call ended, 2hr 42mins

July 20th, 11:21am

Ominis

Good morning. Are you free to talk?

SEB! 

yea !!! 

SEB! is calling Ominis

Call accepted

Call ended, 3hr, 29mins

July 21st, 12:22pm

Ominis

Call?

SEB!

<3

Ominis is calling SEB!

Call accepted

Call ended, 4hr 2min

July 22nd, 11:15am

SEB!

Call me when ur around

Ominis is calling SEB!

Call accepted

Call ended, 4hr 19min

July 23rd, 10:48am

Ominis

Up

SEB! is calling Ominis

Call accepted

Call ended, 4hr 57min

July 24th, 5:01pm

SEB!

going for a walk can call?

Ominis

Please.

SEB! is calling Ominis

Call accepted

Call ended, 5hr 51min

10:53pm

SEB!

oh damn haha new record didn’t even realise

Ominis

What?

SEB! 

we were on the phone for almost 6 hours

Ominis

Merlin, really? What on Earth do we even talk about?

SEB! 

absolutely nothing. it’s great

Ominis

At this rate we won’t have anything to talk about when we get back to Hogwarts. 

SEB!

but u know we will. we could easily break that record tomorrow 

and the day after

and the day after that

Ominis

I think you are right. It’s a wonder I’m not sick of you. 

SEB! 

i love

same here

somehow I forgot to ask but did u ask ur dad if u can come stay solomon doesn’t care, he was like ‘ur almost 18 do what u want’

Ominis

Ah, no, not yet. He and Marvolo are, well, honestly, I have no idea what they are doing. As you well know I’ve spent most of my time in my room talking to you. I’m just trying to keep out of the way as I usually do. But when I’ve tried to speak to him he has mostly brushed me off. Again, as he usually does. 

I’ll try again at some point. There’s nothing more I want to do than to come and stay with you, but you know how my family can be. 

SEB!

i

yea that’s cool dude, whenever u can, if u can

anne keeps asking me about us

anne keeps asking like when is ominis coming and im like idk lay off!! lmao

Ominis

I’m clearly a wanted man. 

SEB!

yeah i want u so bad u don’t even kno lol imagine if i sent that

it’s our last summer at school, we wanna hang out with u :)

Ominis

Soon. Promise.

SEB! 

fingers and toes and arms and legs and eyes and wands all crossed  <3

July 30th, 7:54am

Ominis

How would you feel about me staying for a month?

8:23am

SEB!

overjoyed, ecstatic, thrilled, etc etc

why?

Ominis

My father pretty much said I could come for as long as I wanted. Not in so many words, but I think he’s far too focused on other things at the moment to worry about what I’m doing with myself. 

SEB!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ominis

Are you busy this afternoon?

SEB!

NO! NOW? TODAY?

Ominis

That is what I meant by this afternoon. Would that be ok? I’d wait another day or two but I don’t think I really can. Haha. 

SEB!

please come whenever

come now !!

Ominis

Are you certain?

SEB!

Super certain. I can’t wait to see you. 

Ominis

:) I’ll pack my things. I’ll let you know when I’m coming. 

SEB!

i’ll let anne and solomon know haha brb

8:27am

SEB!

anne’s really excited!! solomon got annoyed i woke him up hahaha but he doesn’t care he’s probably gonna be off somewhere in a few days anyway so

ahhhhh this is great news to wake up to, can’t wait to see u baby boy it feels like forever. only 3 weeks but 

9:04am

Ominis

On my way Sweetheart. <3

WINTER

December 23rd, 6:33pm

SEB! changed their display name to sebauble

sebauble

hello lovely

did u get back ok?

7:04pm

Ominis

Yes, thank you. Thank you to you, Anne and Solomon for having me. I’m sorry I had to return back home so soon. I would’ve liked to have stayed for the entirety of the break and not miss Christmas with you. 

But I suppose there is New Years, at least. 

sebauble

ik :( sucks

i don’t get ur family, one year they don’t care if ur there or not the next you HAVE to come home

so strange

but yeah new years woo woo

Ominis

It’s not as if we really celebrate the holiday. There’s a meal in the evening, but we usually spend the days to ourselves, gather in silence to eat and then return to our rooms. 

It’s certainly not a traditional Christmas. 

sebauble

EXACTLY

damn gaunts bunch of weirdos haha

Ominis

Careful, I’m still a Gaunt whether I like it or not. 

sebauble

o_o

no no i like to think of u as a sallow

my husb

like my brother

LOL

Ominis

I told you, don’t call me your brother. 

Or sister, before you start. 

sebauble

fine, but ur still a sallow in my eyes

Ominis

How so? As your husband? Do I marry in to the Sallow name? Or is it just an honorary title?

sebauble

oh fuck did u

yes just marry me

merlin did u just

yes u can be my husband

hm it would solve lots of problems

no gaunt surname, no dealing with ur family, im a pureblood so they wouldn’t care, u could live here, wouldn’t have to be married off to someone you hate

what say u

marry me baby?

shit I’m only joking

no I’m not

Ominis

I thought you’d never ask! Haha. 

Or I could just marry Anne. Be a modern gentleman and take her name. 

sebauble

oh

yeah that could work too

we would have to see if she would agree though

Ominis

I’m sure she would. I’m certainly the better choice than half the boys in our year. And we are already great friends, it seems like a good match!

sebauble

please don’t be in love with my sister i would die

Is this ur way of telling me u want to date anne or something haha

Ominis

Oh absolutely not, Sebastian!

No offence to her, but Anne is not quite my type. I thought we were joking?

sebauble

thank Merlin

wait so

Haha yeah i am lol

so what is ur type then lol

i shouldn’t have sent that fuck

Ominis

Oh, er, I don’t really know. I haven’t put much thought into it. 

sebauble

just enough to know def not my sister then

lol poor Anne

Ominis

I suppose so.

sebauble

THANK FUCK

So like

if u had to date someone in our year who would it be

How do u even know what ur type is when u can’t see

Is it just personality? face feel?

you’ve felt my face before, did u like it?

Ominis

I really haven’t put much thought into it.

sebauble

ok but u must like someone right ?

or have in the past

u seem to get on with poppy quite well

and there’s that girl in 6th who is always nice to u and she’s pretty fit, kinda boring but

Ominis

Look, Sebastian, I don’t know and I don’t really want to talk about this. We haven’t before, and I don’t particularly want to start now.

sebauble

sorry

i won’t bring it up again

i was just being nosy

Ominis

Let’s just leave it. I’ve got to go for supper anyway. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. 

sebauble

im a fucking idiot

now u hate me

ok, sorry

speak tomorrow

December 24th, 1:37pm

sebauble

hellooooo

8:22pm

Ominis

Good evening. Sorry for not getting in contact with you sooner. I’ve been rather busy today. 

sebauble

it’s ok!!

i thought u might be annoyed at me

did u do anything fun?

Ominis

My dear Aunt Noctua has come for Christmas. It was why my parents demanded me home, so I forgive them now. Haha. 

I’ve spent a long time talking to her today. She doesn’t often visit anymore so it has been a pleasure to be in her company again. 

sebauble

ahh that’s cute im glad she’s there !!!

how is she

Ominis

Very busy, as always. She was telling my sister and I multiple stories of her childhood with my father. He used to be quite kind, surprisingly. He wasn’t there to hear, though, or I fear how he would’ve reacted. 

sebauble

NO WAY 

Ominis

Indeed. He used to read her stories to help her fall asleep when they were both young. Unfortunately the weight of the Gaunt name and the expectations from my grandfather soon caught up to him and, well, you know the rest. 

sebauble

that sucks

is she staying long?

Ominis

Only until Boxing Day. Then she’s back to her travels.

sebauble

ah that’s a shame

but at least u get to see her

makes up for u not being here tomorrow haha

Ominis

Yes, I suppose it does. 

Well, not entirely. I’d much rather be with you, Anne and Noctua. That would be a much more pleasant Christmas. 

sebauble

maybe one day :)

8:52pm

Ominis

Sebastian? 

sebauble

…yeah? 

Ominis

I’m sorry for the way I reacted yesterday. 

sebauble

oh about the

no, i should be sorry. i was prying.

Ominis

Not at all. We’re best friends, I think it’s perfectly normal to talk about things like that. Especially at our age.

sebauble

yeah

i know we dont really

it’s just

im in love with y

we have almost finished school and u have never gone on a date or anything 

and don’t say no girls would date u cos they totally would

Ominis

I think that’s where the issue may lie. 

sebauble

wdym?

Ominis

I think my issue here is er the girls. 

sebauble

oh right 

none of them are taking ur fancy 

idk if u gave that 6th year a chance she might be alright 

or just date me lol

Ominis

That’s really not what I’m trying to say.

sebauble

ok then i don’t get it

Ominis

Merlin’s beard Sebastian I thought you were intelligent. Do I really have to spell it out?

I don’t like girls. I don’t want to date girls. They’re perfectly fine and I’m sure are very pretty, and actually I have been asked out before and didn’t tell you because I never went.

Because I like boys. 

sebauble

oh

Ominis

And I’m sorry I never told you but it’s just something I’ve had to keep to myself for a long time because I just never knew how to bring it up. 

I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable now, I really hope it doesn’t. You’re the first person I’ve told. 

sebauble

oh

Ominis

Well don’t just keep saying oh, say something, anything, I beg of you. 

sebauble

sorry

me too, i like boys too, i like girls as well but i really like boys, i mean u boys, u r a boy and i like u, i love u actually, fuck sake

Ominis, it took me a long time to see it, but I’ve been in love with you for years, you’re the person I want to spend every waking moment with and talk to about everything and oh gods i can’t do it

Ominis

Are you typing? Can you just respond please, other than just sorry?

sebauble

dude i

sorry

that’s cool!!!

u should’ve told me before

didn’t need to keep this kind of secret

i would’ve set u up lol

Ominis

With someone from our school? Disgusting, the lot of them. Filthy, smelly boys. 

sebauble

even me?

then how do u kno u even like boys???

Ominis

Well. That’s a good question. It’s just something I know, I suppose. Yep, that’s it, definitely. 

sebauble

oh no no no no no no no no please say no

…oh i see right through u

there IS someone u like

Ominis

Alright. Maybe. 

But don’t go pushing me, I’m not going to tell you. 

sebauble

fuck fuck fuck fuck just kill me

tell me who it is now, ill kill them

i wont. thats what the amortentia is for

i’ll get u to smell it, tell me what u smell and then ill work it out

im very smart

Ominis

You’d have to torture that out of me, Sebastian. 

sebauble

if it gets u on a date with someone then itll be worth it >:)

Ominis

That’s the other issue. I don’t think this person is interested in boys. 

At all. 

sebauble

dude

I have to know now

let me help

Ominis

I think we should really leave it.

sebauble

…

alright

only because im nice and respectful of ur privacy

sometimes lol

but if u need my help

i am here

Ominis

Thank you. I mean it, for not hating me. For being supportive. 

sebauble

ur my best friend

why would i hate u over this? don’t be daft

i could never hate u baby

in fact i

Ominis

:) Thank you. 

Well, I should go wallow in my own self pity now, it’s been a long day. I’ll talk to you in the morning?

sebauble

speak tomorrow

sleep well

love u

<3

Ominis

Love you too.

<3

December 25th, 9:31am

sebauble

CHRISTMAS

WAKE UP

Ominis

I’m awake! 

Merry Christmas Sebastian :)

sebauble

MEERY CHRISTMAS OMINIS

Ominis

Don’t forget to open the gift I got you. 

And the one for Anne, too. 

sebauble

I WONT

CAN I OPEN NOW?

Ominis

Yes!

9:36am

sebauble

oh dude thank you

i fucking love it

just what i wanted

Ominis

Is it the right one?

sebauble

YES

super cool

i wanted this quidditch jumper for forever 

so thank you

it’s perfect 

ITS GOT MY NAME ON THE BACK

i just saw

Hahahahah even more perfect 

brilliant

<333333

Ominis 

I’m so glad you like it. I had to get Anne’s help. Did she like her gift?

sebauble

hold on

yes she loves it thank you

she said ‘id been wanting this diary for ages, thank you ominis, u really shouldn’t have’

u need to stop being so generous dude

im sorry i couldn’t really afford to get u anything

Ominis

I just want to make you happy, it’s not about getting anything in return, honestly. 

I’m glad she likes it. Merry Christmas to you both. 

sebauble

…

Ominis

What?

sebauble

check ur bag

Ominis

What?

sebauble

just check it

9:45am

Ominis

What is this? 

sebauble

did u open it?

Ominis

No, what have you done?

sebauble

open it

9:47am

Ominis

I’ve opened it. It feels like a photo frame. What is it?

sebauble

so if u run ur hands over the whole thing it u should be able to feel some bits feel different to the other bits

Ominis

Yes, I can feel that. Some bits are raised and other bits aren’t. 

sebauble

yeah

its basically a picture with the outlines raised up so you can feel it. sort of like a drawing but u can trace over it so u can ‘see’ it

Ominis

What’s it a picture of?

sebauble

us

from mine and anne's birthday party

idk if u remember

she took the picture outside the dorm

i think we were both drunk but yeah

i just loved the picture

and wanted u to see it somehow

Ominis

Oh Sebastian. 

sebauble

is it any good?

can u sort of feel it?

im on the left side and ur on the right 

if it’s no good u don’t have to keep it

Ominis

Sebastian. 

sebauble

yeah?

Ominis

This is the most wonderful gift I’ve ever received. 

sabauble

haha

really?

Ominis

This is the most thoughtful, amazing thing I’ve ever been given. I can’t believe it. You shouldn’t have spent the money on me. 

sebauble

as u said earlier ‘i just want to make u happy’

Ominis

Sebastian. You’ve made me cry. 

sebauble

don’t cry :(

plz

sorry

Ominis

You idiot. I’m not sad. I just cannot believe someone has done something this wonderful for me. And for you to be the one to do it, well, is not surprising but.

I don’t think I can thank you enough. 

I love you.

sebauble

i

you

i love you too so much

Ominis

But probably not in the way I love you. 

sebauble

????

Ominis

Gods, I apologise, I didn’t mean to send that. Stupid phone.

Please ignore that message. How do you delete a message? I can’t delete the message, why won’t it delete it? Oh it’s still listening to me, for fuck

sebauble

what

Ominis

Please Sebastian, please ignore it. I think it must’ve heard me wrong or something, I’m sorry.

Just ignore it, I can’t delete it for some stupid reason but you’ve already seen it anyway so it doesn’t

I apologise. I don’t understand why it listens to me sometimes and then doesn’t the other. 

I hate these stupid things.

Just forget it. 

sebauble

do you

are you in love with me or something?

Ominis

I said just ignore it. Please. 

sebauble

no, just tell me

are you?

when u said there’s someone u like yesterday

did u mean me?

Ominis

Sebastian, please.

sebauble

tell me

please

u have to tell me

I’m begging u

Ominis

I can’t do this Sebastian

sebauble

please

please because if i say i feel the same way and u say u were joking i think i would die

Ominis

You feel the same way?

sebauble

i do

ominis please

im stupidly desperately in love with you and i truthfully have no idea for how long but all i know is that i love you with every fibre of my being and i spend every second without u wishing i was with u and every second with u wishing i was closer to u

all the times I’ve called you baby and perfect and gorgeous i was never joking

please tell me u weren’t joking

please

Ominis

I wasn’t joking. I didn’t mean to send it but I am serious. 

Are you serious?

sebauble

ofc i am 

i swear

Merlin

I love you Ominis

Ominis

Can I call?

sebauble

yes

please

Ominis is calling sebauble

Call accepted

[musing-and-music]

Royai week 2023 fic recs

In honor of Royai week in the Fruits & Roots server, I chose to highlight some of my favorite Royai fics I gathered these past years (not many years, since I've been on AO3 for 2 years and a half only). Each day, I'll recommend a few fics in a particular setting

Day 5: Body Art: Art 1 Art 2 Art 3 - E-Rated fics

Because Royai means yearning and forbidden love, it can also mean heated encounters and passionate love. And when great authors bring Riza and Roy together and give them the most beautiful intimate and hot scenes, it's even better!

So yes, all the fics bellow are rated E!

may i feel, said he by egoistas, tsaritsaa / @egoiistas @tsaritsa

“Professor Mustang.” He looks up. Like clockwork. “Miss Hawkeye.” Amused, he fiddles with the keys to his office door and says, “I’m starting to think you’re doing this on purpose now.”

This one could have been in the AU recs or in the day 7 recs, but it's in today's list mainly because of the rating. And I chose it to be here because it's also one of the fics that brought me to the Royai community (back in the time where I mostly read fics in ffnet)

eloquent by hanamuri / @hanamuri

Touch was forbidden between them for years. Until Roy lost his sight, and Riza had her throat slit.

Oh, this one. This one 😍😍😍 It speaks for itself (pun intended)

Starve the Ego, Feed the Soul by onthearrow / @onthearrow

Something has changed between them since the Promised Day.

One of my latest coups de cœur! I don't think "crush" would be good enough to describe what I felt while reading

it's time to go by priscilladm / @priscilla-dm

Barry the Chopper attempts to kill First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye, but when he fails, he develops an adoration for her. Colonel Roy Mustang is protective over his adjutant when he finds out what has unfolded, but it’s impossible to tell whether it’s professional concern or completely unrelated to work.

Holsters? Holsters.

Holding Out (Makes It Better) by Poppy Pelican / @poppy-pelican

“Why don’t we make a…competition of it?” Roy said, standing up like he was going to give orders. “A…team building exercise, if you will.” His eyes drifted to Hawkeye, giving her a meaningful look that he hoped conveyed: back me up on this or else. OR Mustang's team bonds over who can keep from touching themselves the longest.

A really fun way to bond!

[neurodivergent-fox-demon]

Stackson Week Day 1

The Bleeding Hearts Club

Rating: mature

Other tags: trans lydia, Derek Hale/ Lydia Martin, Isaac Lahey/Scott Mccall/Allson Argent , Peter Hale/Chris Argent, Minor Character Death

triggers: fighting, drug use

Please let me know if I need to add any more tags.

Archive of our own

Chapter 1: Bookworms and Delinquents. 

Stiles sighed, leaning against his locker. The hall was, like always, overly crowded and he just wanted to get to his next class. He pushed off the locker and began heading toward forensics. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to glare at whoever had touched him. “What do you want?” He glared at the chemistry teacher. 

Mr. Harris sighed. “Mr. Stilinski, you have been warned before, but that hair and jacket are not school appropriate. You are out of dress code, again. This is your final warning. Get a haircut this weekend and do not wear that leather jacket again.” 

Stiles scoffed and rolled his eyes. “And what are you going to do if I don’t?” He shifted his backpack higher on his shoulder and shifted his eyes around the hall. “You really should not have the right to tell me how long my hair can be. I’m not even in your class anymore.” 

The teacher frowned. “Stilinski, you are out of line. You have been here for 5 years and are well aware of the dress code.” He grabbed the lapel of the jacket and growled at him. “Can’t you just follow the rules for another 2 months? Your hair cannot be below your ears. Get a haircut.” 

“Fuck you.” Stiles glared, ripping himself away from the teacher. “Do not touch me.” He shook his head and began running toward the forensics lab. He looked back at Harris and sighed. That man has hated him since the moment he stepped foot in the Beacon Hills Boy’s academy at the start of his secondary education. He cursed as he ran into someone, feeling a stack of books hitting his feet. “Dammit. Sorry I wasn’t looking.” He looked up to see Jackson Whittemore in front of him.” 

Jackson coughed and sighed, pushing his glasses back into place. “It is alright.” He bent down to pick up his books. It was his free period, and he had a lot of studying to do. “Um… where were you rushing off so fast?” He blushed as the other man began helping him to pick up the books. 

Stiles sighed, handing the nerd a chemistry book. “Away from fucking Harris and his fucking rules.” He closed his eyes as he stood up. The hall was still so fucking crowded and he just wanted to get to his only enjoyable class. His hands shook as he ran his hand through his hair. “I have to go. Sorry again.” He blew out a breath and began running to his class again. Ha barely made it through the door as the bell rang. 

Jackson nodded, watching him go. He fixed his stack of books and headed towards the library. He really did not know who the other man was, but they had been sharing classes now for five years. Stiles Stilinski was a complete mystery to all the borders. All anyone knew was that he was one of the few students who did not live on campus. Jackson was the son of the head master and had lived on campus for all twelve years of his formal education. He hardly knew anything about the world outside these walls. He entered the library and waved at the librarian before he claimed his usual table, opening his classical literature book. 

📚

“Mieczyslaw!” 

“It’s Stiles.” Stiles groaned and turned around to look at the teacher. He had been at this school for 5 years and everyone still refused to use his chosen name. “How may I help you, Professor Martin?

The teacher smiled at him. “I’m sorry, Stiles. I wanted to talk to you about the upcoming trigonometry exam? In Calculus, last year, your work was phenomenal. I cannot say the same this year. If you cannot pull off at least a 90% on your final, I will be forced to fail you. She placed a hand on his shoulder. “You have so much potential Stiles. I would hate to fail you.” 

Stiles blew out a long breath and stepped away from her, letting her hand drop. “I’ll try to do better.” He stared around the room, glad that it was empty, except the two of them. “Can I go now? My dad is going to be upset if I am late.” 

She nodded and smiled sadly at him. “Yes, please let me know if I can do anything to help.” 

“Yeah, sure.” Stiles sighed, running from the room. He almost ran into Jackson again as he escaped, but the other student was able to step out of the way. “Sorry.” He grumbled, rushing to his locker. His father was going to be pissed if he was late again. 

Jackson watched him with a frown before turning back to the math professor. “Um, you wanted to talk to me, Professor?” 

Mrs. Martin nodded, gesturing to a desk. “Would you like a cup of tea?” She walked over to a table in the corner, putting on an electric kettle. She watched Jackson sit as she gathered her thoughts. “Jackson, you’ve been number one in your class for the last three years, Am I correct?” 

Jackson nodded. “Yes please. You are correct ma’am. Right behind your son, Levi, I believe.” He took off his hat, placing it on the desk in front of him. “Is that what this is about?” 

She chuckled, shaking her head. “No, Levi is a bit annoyed that he can’t seem to catch up to you, no matter how hard he tries. I imagine that your father puts a lot of pressure on you, but no. That is not what I wanted to talk to you about. I was wondering if you are interested in tutoring a student for me. He is in my basic trigonometry class, and is in danger of failing. I would not like that to happen.” 

Jackson blushed and nodded. “I do offer tutoring services. I usually charge $25 and hours. I can fit him in, if he agrees to this.” He smiled as he was handed a cup of tea. 

Mrs. Martin nodded and sighed. “You see, the thing is, he is a scholarship student, and I am not sure he can afford to pay for tutoring.” She pulled out a chair and sat in front of the other student. “I asked Levi to tutor him already, but he said he doesn’t have the time.” 

Jackson frowned. “Who would I be tutoring?” 

“Mr. Stilinski. You just saw him, running out of here.” She sighed. “He’s really a really bright student, but he’s been sliding the last year and a half. I really would like it if he graduated.” 

Jackson nodded, looking into his teacup. The leaves floated in the shape of a triangle. He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “Can I think about it and get back to you tomorrow? It’s not like I really need the money, but my course load is quite heavy this semester.”

“Of course, Jackson. Finish your tea, and let me know how your own classes are going? How is your father?” 

Jackson chuckled, sipping his tea. “My classes are fine. I will be happy to graduate in two months. Dad is fine. He’s a bit overly taxing about me getting into a good college. I’ve been accepted to Oxford, you know.” 

She grinned. “That is great. Levi is heading to the States to study at Brown or Harvard. He has not really decided, but I’m quite proud.” 

Jackson smiled, nodding. “That’s fantastic. I wish him luck.” 

📚

Stiles ran into the police station and knocked on his father’s door. “Come in.” He sighed and opened the door, stepping into the sheriff’s office. “You’re late. Your shift started 5 minutes ago.” 

Stiles nodded, placing his book bag behind his desk. “My trig teacher held me behind.” He went to his desk to start sorting the files. He knew his job was not really going to pay for his college but every little bit helped. Although, at the rate he was going, he was not going to get into college. 

“That’s one of the classes you’re failing, is it not?” The sheriff looked up at him, as he sighed another form. “What did she want?” 

Stiles sighed, slumping in his chair. “Just to remind me that I’m failing. I’m not sure what I am going to do, dad. I have to get at least a 90% on my final.” He chewed his lip, tongue flicking the clear ring he had on the right side. “I hate it. I hate all of it.” 

Noah stared at his son and sighed. “Mischief, you are such a bright kid. You were number three in your class until last year. Talk to me.” 

Stiles shook his head. “I’ve got it. I’ll figure something out.” He knew that he was worrying his dad, but he really could not talk about how the anxiety was destroying everything about him. “Maybe I just need to spend more time studying. The math is not that hard, it’s just… I don’t know.” 

Noah tapped his pen on his desk. “It seems the only class you are excelling in is forensics. That’s all well and good, but you need to do better if you are going to go to college.” 

“Maybe I don’t want to go to college.” Stiles huffed.

The man shook his head. “I know that isn’t true. You’ve always loved school. What’s changed?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it!” Stiles snapped. “Sod off it.” 

The sheriff raised a brow at him. “Do not talk to me like that, Stiles. You know I am on your side. I know you’ll be 18 years old next week, but you are still my friend.” He pushed his paperwork away and walked over to his son, “I know Erica dying hit you hard, but in the last year, I’ve seen you ditch all your friends, change your entire style. Where did you even get that hideous leather jacket?” 

Stiles rolled his eyes, letting his head fall back. “It was in a box of mum’s old stuff. I like the way I dress now. Is it so bad?” He picked up a file and placed it into an envelope for outgoing mail. He knew that he was being a bit of an ass but he did not know how to talk to his father anymore. “Just forget it.” 

Noah sighed and nodded. “Alright. Go home, today. There is not much for you to do, and you’re still grounded.” 

Stiles cursed and grabbed his bag. “Are you going to be home for dinner or am I on my own?” 

Noah shrugged. “I’m not sure. It’s been quiet. If I’m not home by 7pm, get some take out.” He frowned as he went to hug his son and he stepped back. “I’ll see you later.” 

Stiles nodded as he slung his bag over his shoulder and headed out of the station. He climbed into his jeep and headed to the edge of town where he knew his friends gathered. One of his mates from primary school was sitting on a pile of rubbish as he walked up a hill. “Hey.” 

Isaac smiled sadly at him. “Hey.” He tossed him a pack of cigarettes as Stiles sat down next to him. “How are you doing, Stiles?” 

Stiles shrugged, lighting a cigarette. “Fine. Dad is getting on my case. My teachers are getting on my case. You know, the usual.” He leaned back, blowing smoke into the air. “I’m going to flunk my maths.” 

Isaac shook his head, rolling a joint. “I hope you don’t. You’re the only one who is going to make something of himself and get out of this hell hole.” 

Stiles chuckled. “Dad brought up Erica again. You know, she would kick my ass if she saw how bad it’s gotten.” 

Isaac nodded. “She’d kick both our asses.” He lit the joint and passed it to Stiles. “Can’t you get a tutor or something?” 

Stiles laughed, taking a drag. “Yeah, like I can afford a tutor. I’m lucky I’m on scholarship or I would not be able to afford school.” He looked up at the sky. “I’m lucky grandfather was a legacy or I would have gotten kicked out a long time ago.” 

Isaac chuckled. “Not sure your grandfather is the legacy you want to live up to.” 

”Yeah, but it got me into one of the best schools in the five counties.” He grinned and laid back as he relaxed into the drug. “Have you heard from Derek?” 

“Not since he and Levi broke up last week. I know that he’s going to the States, but Derek would have waited for him.” Isaac sighed. “I’m giving him his space. He’s usually gone before I wake up anyway.” 

“Levi has been distant in himself from everyone. He hasn’t even picked up any of my calls.” 

“Yeah, but he’s been avoiding you since Erica died.” Isaac sighed, curling into Stiles’s side. “I have something to share. “Allison and I kissed.” 

Stiles laughed, wrapping an arm around him. “Isn’t she dating Scott?” He knew that Isaac craved touch more than anything and he was more than happy to provide it. He was one of the few people he trusted anymore. 

Isaac chuckled. “Yeah, but they are polyamorous. I really like them.” He took the joint from Stiles and took a drag. “Don’t judge me.” 

“I’d never judge you.” Stiles sighed. He was not sure what else he was supposed to say. “I wish Derek and Levi would talk to me. It’s not like I don’t feel guilty enough.” 

Isaac sat up and hovered. “Hey, it wasn’t your fault, Stiles. You have got to stop blaming yourself.” 

“We would not have even been out there if it weren’t for me, Isaac.” Stiles sighed,closing his eyes. “I drove us out there.” 

Isaac caressed his cheek. “Stiles, we all agreed to go out that night. If it were your fault, It was just as much my fault, or Derek’s. He’s just lost since losing someone he thought of as a little sister. He feels like he was supposed to protect her.” 

Stiles chuckled, wiping tears from his eyes. “We were all supposed to protect her. I still can’t talk about it, but every time I close my eyes I see her falling. I can’t get through a fucking day without panicking about it.” 

Isaac nodded and kissed his forehead. “I know. Look what it is doing to you. I’m the only one who you can stand being around, and I am all kinds of fucked up.” He sighed and laid his head back on his shoulder. “”Maybe you need to go to a counselor.” 

Stiles shook his head. “I can’t... I can’t talk about it. Not yet.” 

Isaac nodded. “Well, I hope you can before you completely come apart.” 

📚

Jackson placed his bag behind his desk and placed his laptop on the surface. He walked over to his bed and fell back, letting out a long sigh. He only had about an hour before he was expected to attend dinner with other boys in his year. He wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with their problems today, but he was head boy. He had a job to do. There was a knock at his door and he groaned as he got up and answered it. “Hello, father.” 

“Jackson, my boy. How are you doing tonight?” The man walked into the room and looked around. “Just wanted to talk before we went down to dinner, tonight,”

”I’m alright.” Jackson smiled, taking his glasses off and polishing them. “I’ve already completed my homework, and I was debating getting started on a couple more admissions forms, for oxford.” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “What did you want to talk about?” 

“Are you sure that Oxford is really where you want to go? You have so many choices.” The headmaster sat on his bed and looked up from him. “Never mind about that though. The librarian was telling me that you are spending all your time in the library? Don’t you want to spend some time with your mates?”

Jackson sighed, sitting at his desk. “I really don’t have a lot of mates, dad. And the ones I do have, we’re all getting ready for finals. I’m too busy studying and tutoring to worry about that right now.” 

The man nodded, frowning a bit. “I’m glad to hear you are keeping up with your studies, and helping your fellow classmates, but you need to make more connections outside of class. You cannot get into politics if you do not make the right connections, Jackson.” 

“I know, father. It’s not like I don’t already have a seat in the House of Lords.” He wiped his hand over his face. I just… Don’t I have plenty of time?” 

Mr. Whittemore sighed. “You would think but you have two months until graduation. These walls cannot protect you forever and I want you to have the best in life.” 

“Yes, father.” Jackson smiled at him. He knew that his father meant the best, but the pressure would eventually get to him and he would burn out at the rate he was going. “One of my Professors wants me to take on another student, pro bono.”

The older man grinned. “Great. I’d say you should do it. It would look great on your applications. Who is it? Does he go here? I’m sure that anyone going here could afford to pay, so I assume he goes to another school.” 

Jackson groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Stiles Stilinski. I asked her to give me the day to think about it.” 

“I want you to stay away from that boy.” The headmaster sighed, changing his tone so quickly, it had Jackson jumping slightly. “He is bad news.” 

Jackson frowned, shaking his head. “He’s quiet but he doesn’t seem that bad. He was number three in our class until last year. Other than that, no one really knows much about him.” 

The headmaster shook his head as he stood and began pacing. “He is part of a gang out of north Beacon Hills. One of them got herself killed last year, and Stilinski went around the bend. He has been caught with drugs on campus, and been arrested for fighting on numerous occasions. The only reason I have not expelled him is that I was friends with his grandfather, and his father is the sheriff.” 

Jackson frowned. “I… should you really be telling me this? It seems like he needs someone in his corner.” He pulled out his bag and pulled out a notebook. “It won't hurt to tutor him. If I can get him to pass maths, maybe it’ll help him at least graduate.” 

David sighed, rubbing his eyes. “I won’t forbid you from tutoring him, if he agrees to it, but do be careful. Don’t let him talk you into anything dangerous.” 

“Yes, father.” Jackson sighed, taking a few notes. We should probably go down to dinner. My responsibilities are waiting.” 

“Yes, yes. Let’s go. They are serving my favorite pudding tonight.” He chuckled, squeezing his shoulder. 

Jackson nodded as he left the room. 

📚

Stiles sat at his desk and opened his forensics book. He looked up and frowned as Mr. Hale wrote out some questions on the white board. “I thought we did not have a final in this class?” 

Peter looked at him, sighing. “I had not planned on it, but the headmaster is insisting on it. How are you, Stiles?” The teacher smiled, leaning against his desk. “How is my nephew?” 

Stiles looked down at his notebook and shook his head. “He is not talking to me right now. He’s not really talking to anyone since he and Levi broke up.” He leaned back and placed his feet on the desk. He wiped away a tear. “It’s alright. I think he just needs time.” 

Peter nodded and winked at him. “You all are going to be alright, Stiles. Are you coming over later?” 

Stiles chuckled. “I’m grounded, remember? Dad still is pissed about the pcp.” He rolled his eyes and chewed his lip. “Once Derek comes out of hibernation, I’ll let him know you asked about him.” 

Peter nodded, sitting on his desk. “I should talk to the sheriff. You’ve been grounded for months.” He looked at his watch. They still had a few minutes before the class would start trickling in. “Chris and I don’t see you anymore. And you know how much Allison loves you.” 

Stiles smirked at him. “You see me everyday, Mr. Hale.” He rolled his eyes. “And Isaac keeps me up to date on how Allison and Scott are doing.” He swirled his pen through his fingers. “I miss Chris too, but you don’t need to talk to dad. I think it’ll just piss him off more.” 

Peter nodded. “Well, we’ll be having a dinner party this weekend. Chris would love to see you.  Maybe he would let you go for the night, hmm? I can get you some really good cocaine and watch the new movie you wanted to watch.” 

Stiles groaned. “Fine, I’ll ask him if I can go. I’m sure I can convince him that my favorite teacher invited me to a dinner party.” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Will Scott and Allison be there?” 

“Of course.” Peter smiled, bowing his head. “And Cora, Boyd, and Isaac are coming. I just wish I could get a hold of Derek.” He shrugged. “He’s really torn up, isn’t he?” 

Stiles nodded, pursing his lips. “That’s what I hear.” He looked up as the students started entering the class. “I’ll talk to my dad and call you.” He grabbed Peter’s attendance book and started marking off names. 

Peter nodded as he hopped off his desk and began getting ready to teach his class. 

Jackson walked into the class and smiled at Peter. “Mr. Hale, could I borrow Stiles, please?” 

Peter nodded and motioned for Stiles to get up from grading papers. “Take your stuff with you.” 

Stiles sighed and grabbed his backpack, following Jackson out of the room. “What do you want?” 

Jackson sighed, leading him out to the courtyard. “Sorry, this is my only free period and Mrs. Martin asked me to talk to you.” He led him to the fountain and sat on a bench. “Please, have a seat.” 

Stiles licked his lips and rolled his eyes as he sat beside Jackson. “Let me guess, she wants her golden boy to talk to me… find out why I gave up in her class. I know she wants me to stay away from Levi.” 

Jackson raised a brow at him and sighed. “No, actually she asked Levi to help you first, but he doesn’t have the time.” He pulled out a calendar from his bag and smiled at the other man, adjusting his glasses. “She just wants to know if you would be interested in me tutoring you until the final. If I’m correct, you need at least a 90.” 

Stiles chuckled, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. He lit one and leaned back on the bench. “No thank you. I know how much you tutors cost and I can’t afford it. I don’t want to hang around anyone that I don’t have to. I can’t be bothered.” 

Jackson frowned, wanting to tell the other student off for the cigarette. “I will not be charging you, if that is your only reasonable objection. It would only be an hour after school. I just want to help.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes, looking the man over. “You want to help? Why would the headmaster’s precious son want to help me?” He took a drag of his cigarette and looked away from him. “Why would Professor Martin put you up to this? I nearly destroyed her little girl.” 

Jackson cursed,  and slammed his date book on the bench. “There is no reason for you to be rude. You know Levi prefers he/ him pronouns, and is a man.” 

Stiles chuckled sadly. “Yes, I was one of the first people he came out to. I helped him pick the name Levi. He was one of my best friends until last year. Do not tell me about Levi. I fucking know all about Levi.” He tossed his cigarette and stood up. “You can take your tutoring and shove it up your arse. I’ll study on my own.” 

Jackson reached out and took his hand. “Please…” 

Stiles ripped his hand away. “Do not fucking touch me.” 

Jackson licked his lips, pulling his hands back, folding them in his lap. “I just want to help, Stiles. I can’t begin to fathom what happened between you and Levi, but I won't ask. I am just here to help you through your maths, and any other subject you might be having trouble with.” 

Stiles stood there, holding his hands behind his back. He felt terrible for snapping at Jackson, but he had stepped a little too far over the line. “I have a job. Let me talk to my dad about staying after school to study.” He turned and began walking away. 

“I always have this hour free. You can find me at the library.” Jackson called out to him.” 

Stiles nodded and waved at him before disappearing back into the school. 

📚

Stiles walked into his dad’s office and sighed as he plopped on top of his desk. “Hey, daddio.” 

Noah sighed, looking up at his son. “What are you doing here? You have today off.” He pushed his paperwork away, folding his hands on the desk. “And no you cannot go out tonight.” 

Stiles groaned, folding his legs up on his desk. “One, the dinner party is Saturday and I was invited by one of my teachers. Just think about it. Two, I needed to ask you about staying after school to study. Mrs. Martin arranged a tutor for me. But you can say no. I know I have a job, and…” 

“Stiles. You’re fired.” Noah smiled. “I want you to study.” The sheriff raised a brow at him. “And let me guess, this teacher is Peter Hale, the uncle of Derek Hale.” 

Stiles frowned at him. “You can’t fire me. I need the money for college. And you like Peter. It’s just one dinner party and don’t you think I’ve been grounded long enough?” 

“We’ll talk about college later.”  The sheriff sighed. “Peter is fine, but you were arrested for carrying angel dust, Stiles. Do you know how dangerous that drug is?” He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. “Who else is going?” 

”Cora, Boyd, Isaac, Scott, and Allison.” Stiles grinned at him. “We’re trying to get Derek to go, but we can’t get a hold of him.” 

“Fine, you can go, but I want you to come directly home.” The sheriff smiled at him. “If you are lying to me about this party, you’ll be grounded until you graduate. Do you understand me?” 

“I swear. It’s on the level, pops.” He grinned. “Now about the job? Because I really need the money.” 

The sheriff sighed. “You have not applied to one college, Stiles. You need to graduate, and I would rather the money go to a tutor than your cigarettes. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been smoking.” 

Stiles chewed his lip. “He’s not charging me. It’s not like it’s illegal to smoke.” 

“Then what is the problem? Please, just take his help.” Noah chuckled. “For you it is. You are 17 for another week.” 

Stiles groaned. “It’s no big deal. Can we not argue about that? I do not want to hang out with Jackson Whittemore for an hour a day.” 

The sheriff raised a brow at him. “Jackson? The headmaster’s son? I don’t think you can turn this opportunity down, Stiles. He is a good kid, and he will make sure you pass your classes. Do you want to spend another year in high school? If you repeat a year, you’ll have to go back to Beacon Hills High school. Beacon Hill’s school for Boys has been amazing for you. You don’t want to screw that up.” 

“Pops. I… How do I put this? He is posh in carnet. He is bred for politics.” Stiles sighed. “I could just study harder, and ignore all that.” 

Noah shook his head. “If you want me to lift your punishment, you’ll start studying with Jackson. I’m sorry, Mischief. Those are my terms.” 

Stiles cursed. “Fine, but I am going out with Isaac tonight.” 

His father nodded. “Fine. Be home by 10. I would like to not worry about you tonight. Please don't come home smelling like pot.” 

Stiles grinned, hopping down from the desk. “Thanks daddio. I promise that I won’t do any drugs tonight. Just a few drinks.” He chuckled running out of the office.

“You’re under age.” The sheriff grumbled. “Dammit. Don’t drink and drive.” 

📚

Stiles chuckled, tossing back a shot of tequila. “Isaac, I swear. My dad is all hung up on this tutor thing. I have to spend an entire hour a day with Jackson fucking Whittemore,” 

Isaac sighed, sitting in his lap. The club was not very crowded on a Thursday night and they both were feeling a bit loose at the moment. He leaned his head on his shoulder. “It’s only an hour. You will survive.” He took a sip of his beer. “Jackson can’t be that bad. We don’t know him and you are jumping to conclusions.” 

Stiles chuckled, wrapping his arm around his waist. “Yeah, I really don’t know much about him, but he is the headmaster’s son, and a complete nerd. You should have seen him today when he offered to tutor me.” He rested his chin on Isaac’s head. “We are from two different worlds.” 

“You’re not dating him, Stiles. You are just studying.” Isaac smirked as he squirmed in his arms. “Your dad is right, Stiles. You don’t want to flunk out of school.” He kissed his chin. “You’ve got this, babe.” 

Stiles nodded. He ran a hand through Isaac’s hair and sighed. A man walked by them and grumbled something about the club going to hell with fags. Stiles growled at him and stood up, placing Isaac back in the chair. “You got a problem with us?” 

The man smirked, getting in his face. “This club does not need faggots stinking up the place.” 

Stiles laughed loudly. “Trust me, this place does not help stinking up the place. You are doing a pretty good job yourself.” He pushed the man back. “Just go on your way and let us enjoy our night.” 

“Did you just push me?” The man growled, pushing him back.

Isaac stood up. “Come on guys. Let’s just go our own separate ways.” 

“Sit down, Isaac.” Stiles growled, glaring at the asshole in front of him. “I’ve got this taken care of.” He knew that Isaac hated violence, but he would not allow anyone to push them around. ”You think you can come in here and be a homophobic asshole? Where do get the fucking balls? Cause from where I’m standing you’ve got none.” 

The man cursed and threw a punch at him. Stiles laughed as he ducked and punched the man in the stomach. About five minutes later Stiles had been thrown into the table and the man was being pulled off him. Isaac helped Stiles up as the bouncer began throwing all three of them out of the club. Isaac sighed, glaring at Stiles. “You just could not let it go, for once? they just let us come back to this place and we’re going to get banned again.” 

Stiles sighed, wiping blood from his lip. “You are so used to letting people push you around.” He took the other man’s hand and began walking back to his Jeep. “You’re driving. I have had too much to drink.” 

Isaac rolled his eyes and sighed. “You can’t fight every asshole who insults you.” He took the keys to the jeep and helped Stiles into the passenger side. “I’m sleeping over, and you should get some ice on that eye.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure dad will be cool with that.” Stiles sighed, leaning back in his seat. 

📚

Stiles groaned, sitting across from Jackson, “Fine, I’ll let you tutor me. My dad seems to think it’ll be good for me.” He glared at the man sitting across the table. 

Jackson frowned, looking the kid over. “What happened to your face?” That was probably a bit rude but he was not really sure what else to say. 

Stiles chuckled, pulling out his trigonometry book. “It was nothing but a little bar fight. Some homophobic asshole. Trust me, he got the worst of it.” 

Jackson nodded, opening his lap top. “Oh, I did not know you were gay. That’s cool I guess.” He blushed, bringing up his notes. He had no idea what he was saying. This was not a topic that he knew a lot about. He went out with a few girls but he just did not have time for dating and he never could find a connection with anyone. “So… should we get started?” 

“I’m not gay. I’m just an equal opportunity lover.” Stiles smirked, winking at him.  He chuckled as he pulled out his notebook. “I suppose. I think we have a practice test monday. I wasn’t really paying much attention yesterday.” 

Jackson's blush deepened. “Um…okay. Maybe that is your problem, paying attention in class.” He smiled, pulling out five notebooks. “These are my notes from when I took Trig, last year.” 

Stiles frowned, leafing through the notebooks. “This is like 3000 pages of notes. Do you want me to write a textbook?“ 

Jackson chuckled. “It’ll help you learn trigonometry.” He shook his head and sighed. “Maybe I could break it down for you a bit more.” He looked at the notes flipping to the section Stiles class was currently studying. “This is the bit that you need for the test on Monday.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes and began reading over the notes. “I know all of this, I just can’t seem to remember it when I take the tests. Honestly, I’ve never been this bad at tests before.” He looked up at Jackson. “Do you think you can just give me the answers?” 

Jackson gasped, shaking his head. He pushed his glasses back up his nose and sighed. “That is not exactly how this works, Stiles. That would be cheating. You’re never going to learn if I give you the answers.” 

“But you have them, don’t you?” Stiles smirked, twirling his pencil between his fingers. “I can make it worth your wild.” 

Jackson closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He could not believe this guy had ever been any sort of competition for him. “Mrs. Martin gives the same test every year, but I am not going to just give you the answers.” He looked up at Stiles. “Why don’t I just let you read over the notes for the weekend and I’ll quiz you before her class, Monday.” 

“No can do, baby doll. I have a party tomorrow night.” He smiled. “There has to be a way for us to come to some sort of agreement?”

“If you are not going to take this seriously, I don’t know why I am going to waste my time.” Jackson growled at him. He rarely lost his temper but this kid was really starting to get on his nerves. “I know that you are capable of passing this class, Stiles.” 

“You know nothing about me, Whittmore.” Stiles scoffed and closed the notebook. “You’re right. We don’t need to waste either of our time.” He gathered his books and stood up, ready to leave. “Fuck you.” 

Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes. “Let me talk to Mrs. Martin and see if we can’t reschedule your test and you can study here Monday instead.” 

Stiles glared at him for a moment before letting his shoulders drop. “Fine. Why don’t we try one more time?” 

Jackson licked his lips and nodded. “You have to really commit here, Stiles. I won’t sell you the answers, but if we buckle down, I can guarantee that I’ll have you pass your final.” 

Stiles slumped in his seat and nodded. “Give me the bloody notes.” 

📚

Jackson sighed and threw his bag under his desk. He laid on his bed and looked at the ceiling. Once he had broken down the test with Stiles, the tutoring had gone a lot smoother. He could not understand Stiles Stilinski. He was smart, but he had zero work ethic. He took off his classes and closed his eyes. He had developed a bit of a headache and he just wanted to go to bed. 

There was a knock on his door and he groaned as he got up. He answered the door and smiled. “Hey, Levi.” 

Levi smiled at him. “Jackson… Can we have a little talk?”

Jackson nodded, gesturing for him to come in. “Of course, Levi. You are always welcome.” He went and pulled out a chair for him before sitting on the bed. “What did you want to talk about?” 

Levi sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “My mum is so excited about me going across the pond for college. I have the opportunity to go to Brown or Harvard. I should be excited right?” 

Jackson nodded. “But you’re not?” 

“… Did your dad ever tell you what happened a year and a half ago? Levi sighed. “It was right before I came out.” 

Jackson shook his head. “He told me the other night that Stiles got your friend killed,”

Levi shook his head. “It wasn’t Stiles’s fault. He blames himself, and he really went off the rails about it. He started pushing us all away. Anyway, he had just gotten his license and we all went out partying. We went out to the preserve… and up to the cliffs.” Levi licked his lips. “We got so drunk, and Erica tripped. She fell so far. Stiles blames himself because he suggested we go out to the preserve and he got ahold of the beer.” 

Jackson chewed his lip. “He could not have predicted that would happen. Why are you telling me all this?” 

Levi sighed. “I don’t want to leave with all of us still so distant. I broke up with Derek because of all of this. We’ve been dating for four years and I dumped him because I could not handle the pressure anymore. I mean I’ll be leaving and I don’t want to make him wait for me. I did not tell my mum that I also got into Oxford. Maybe I should stay here.” 

“That is completely up to you, Levi. It seems like you have a lot to think about.” Jackson smiled and took his hand. “I suggest you talk to your friends though. I think Stiles really needs help, Levi.” 

“I know.” Levi groaned. “We used to be such good friends and I feel like I let him down because I was going through so much. I feel like a terrible friend.” He felt like he was really letting everyone down. 

“You’re not terrible.” Jackson smiled. “You were hurting too. All you can do is reach out and try to make things right now. Now, about the three colleges…” Jackson chuckled. “Your mom will be happy with whichever you choose. She is so proud of you.” 

Levi nodded. “I guess I’ll call Stiles. Allisoon said something about a party tomorrow night. Do you want to come?” 

Jackson shrugged, shaking his head. “No, I wasn’t invited, and I would hate to intrude.” 

Levi laughed. “I’m inviting you and you would not be intruding. It’s at Professor Hale’s house. He’s married to Allison’s father and they throw dinner parties all the time. Mr. Argent always says the more the merrier.” 

Jackson smiled, rubbing the back of his neck. The only parties he had ever attended were business functions for his father. “If you’re sure. Should I bring anything?” 

Levi shook his head. “No, just yourself. I’ll text you the address, and I’ll let Mr. Hale know you are coming. 

Jackson grinned at him. “Thank you for the invitation, then. I would love to come.” He chewed his lip. “Can you tell me a little more about Stiles… He confuses me.” 

Levi raised an eyebrow at him. “I really don’t know who he is anymore. He used to be my best friend. Now he does nothing but drink, party and fight.” He chuckled softly. “He’s pretty hard to forget, isn’t he. He gets under your skin. “ Levi smirked. 

Jackson sighed. “I just feel like he doesn’t want to rise to his potential.” 

“Oh, he doesn’t, Jackson. He is on a path of self destruction. I wish I could tell you differently. I’m just glad my mum has been keeping an eye on him when I couldn’t.”

Jackson chewed his lips. “If you say so. Your mum has me tutoring him. She said you did not have the time.” 

Levi gaped at him. “She never asked me, actually. I guess I can see why. We haven’t really talked in so long. Isaac is the only one who really talks to him anymore.” 

“Isaac?” Jackson smiled, putting his feet on the bed. 

Levi nodded. “His father was the swim coach, but he is in prison now.” He blushed softly. “Isaac doesn’t really like to talk about it, but Mr. Lahey used to beat him and lock him in an old freezer. Derek found Isaac in the freezer and reported it. Derek’s mom Talia took Isaac in.” Levi sighed, curling up in the chair. “Don’t tell him I told you that.”

Jackson nodded. “I knew Coach Lahey went to prison, but I never knew why. Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”

“But Stiles never stopped being there for Isaac, and he was the same for Stiles.” Levi smiled. “I don’t think anything could break the two apart, but Stiles gets him into so much trouble.” 

Jackson sighed, nodding. “Sounds like they’ve had a hard time.” 

“But that is no reason to self-destruct.” Levi groaned “Stiles got himself arrested for angel dust. How stupid is that?” He looked around the room sighing. “He’s so stubborn. He would not even let his father know where he got it. He’d hate it so much if he knew that I know all this, but the Sheriff gives me updates.” Levi sighed, wiping his eyes. 

Jackson shrugged. “You sound like you really care for him.” 

Levi chuckled through his tears. “I love him. He is still my best friend.” 

Jackson smiled. “Must be nice. I’ve never really had that.” 

Levi blushed. “I thought we were friends.”

“Oh, I… I guess we are. I mean, I like that you feel comfortable enough to confide in me.” 

Levi nodded. “You’re a good listener. All the boys in this house think so.” 

Jackson shrugged. “It’s not hard to offer an open ear.” 

Levi chuckled. “You are so weird.” 

“Thanks… I think.” Jackson laughed. “So, there is a party tomorrow. What should I wear?” 

Levi grinned evilly. “Oh, you have to let me pick out your outfit.” 

To be continued…

[myloveforhergoeson]

ash's april 2024 reading round up

find all the books and fics i read this month under the cut with a link to the synopsis and my reviews/ratings attached :)

this is just for fun! i'm not a professional, i just like to read <3

booklist!

The Fake Out by Stephanie Archer (18+!)

review: ALKGNALGBLGSLBVLSHGWL i don't even know where to begin!!!!!!!!! so good! so good! i don't know what this woman puts in her books that make them so good! not only were the main characters rory (pro hockey team captain) and hazel (team physiologist) so interesting, but the way they help each other accomplish their goals AND grow into the people they want to be was beautifully done. rory, stepping into his first year as team captain wants to make sure his less than steller reputation stays in the past and agrees to fake date the team physiologist to maintain good image... all the while she needs to fake date him in order to get back at her shitbag ex who was drafted onto the team this year. one problem though, hazel hates hockey players (see: shitbag ex) and rory's been in love with her since she tutored him in high school... oh my god... their struggles, while sensationalized, still felt realistic for their situation, and i specifically loved rory's arc of becoming the hockey player he wanted to be instead of the player his father wanted to be. and hazel's dream of opening her own inclusive fitness studio to help her mother work through her body image issues... sobbing... a whole wealth of untapped love and affection all coming from this fake relationship and i lapped every little bit of it up. the dragon imagery (and rory's dunk dragon tattoo) was adorable! the multiple perspectives really solidified their story for me - archer just kills the he falls first storyline and i loved the way hazel fell even harder even after swearing she wouldn't!!!!! i can't decide if this book was better than the first one... i think i liked the story of this one better, but the characters in the first more? why am i pitting two bad bitches against each other??

tw: mentions of a secondary character (hazel's mom) struggling with body image issues

rating: 4.5 times i was kicking my feet and giggling and shit throughout the story!!!!!

2. Secretly Yours by Tessa Bailey (18+!)

review: if you're a regular here you know tessa bailey is my favorite author <3 she's literally incapable of writing a bad book i'm pretty sure. anyway! what happens when you mix an out of control, free spirit gardener (hallie) and an uptight, schedule oriented history professor and vineyard heir (julien)? one of the best opposites attract romances i've ever read! while i know nothing about wine, the napa valley setting felt so cozy and homey; i felt like i was right there with hallie and julien! despite being so wrong for each other, of course their romance was so right!!!! hallie's secret admirer letters to julien were so so cute, and julien's struggle of wanting to be with hallie so bad while writing back to his mystery admierer was so captivating. little did he know (though he'd been dreaming) it was hallie all along! also... god... the way he spoke to and about her... i don't think a man has ever been more in love in the history of ever. also he literally couldn't stand to see her sad so he literally revitalized the local economy????? hello?????? i <3 fictional rich men <3!! and lucky for me this book is part of a duology, with the next novel focusing on julien's sister which i just started yay!

rating: 4.5/5 times i was embarrassed reading this book in public because i was worried someone would look over my shoulder...

fic list!

Gotta Dream Big Time by WeAreBTR (641)

fandom: big time rush (tv)

pairing: logan mitchell & kelly wainwright (note the & and not /!)

SOOO CUTE! i've never seen a fic written about these two and the dynamic the author formed between them was so sweet :)

We're Much Better Together by WeAreBTR (1,790)

fandom: big time rush (tv)

pairing: lucy stone/jo taylor

yeah. this is how it should have gone down in the show. sooo much characterization packed into such a short fic. really incredible to read... and lucy and jo are so adorable! <3

3. You Just Can't Walk Away by WeAreBTR (537)

fandom: big time rush (tv)

pairing: carlos garcia & katie knight (& not /)

the emotion in this one literally had me worried for katie... such power in so few words!

[sweeter-innocence-fics]

You Brought Your Worst and I’m Right Here - Chapter Eight: I can't even blink

Pairing: Gale of Waterdeep x female Tav

Work Summary:

After an explosive falling out between Gale and his academic adviser, Mystra, Tav is left to pick up the pieces.

Modern/College AU.

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 Epilogue

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1453

Read on AO3.

Masterlists.

Taglist: @mrs-kai-anderson @ang3l1te @missryerye

Taglist info

Previous Chapter

The motivational kitten poster had once been held up by staples, but one of the top corners had long since torn, drooping like the dying houseplant on Tav’s windowsill. Even so, the kitten stared back at her with dead eyes. She found it hard to look away.

When the door to the dean’s office finally re-opened, Tav stood up too fast. Her chair hit the wall with a thunk.

Gale’s expression was drawn as he stepped out into the hallway, but when their eyes met, he smiled at her. He shut the door behind himself. The click was far too loud in the quiet of the hallway.

“How did it go?” she asked.

His hands fluttered nervously at his sides. He hesitated for a moment, and then said, “It’s done.”

“Do you want to go get a drink?”

“Please.”

Against their better judgment, they found themselves at the on-campus bar. Of course, there was no chance Professor Mystryl would be caught dead here, so they were safe from running into her, but all of campus still felt like a potential minefield.

But Gale had been tired and wanted to decompress and drinks were cheap here. They got themselves a booth far from the window, just to be certain.

“How are you feeling?” asked Tav as Gale nursed a glass of red wine.

“I feel…” He sighed, putting his elbow on the table and leaning his face on his palm. “I feel like my body won’t relax. Like I’m having heart palpitations. I guess I’m nervous? I’m afraid of what happens next.”

Tav took a deep breath and stretched across the gap between them, laying her hands palm up, inviting him in. He stared at her hands for a moment, and then took them in his own.

“It’s going to be okay,” said Tav, feeling the heat spreading from the base of her neck and up to her cheeks. “Whatever happens, I’m here. And you have friends all around you. We won’t let her hurt you anymore.”

Gale looked up from the table, his eyes finding hers. His gaze was searching, but Tav had no idea what he was looking for. It made her feel naked.

“What?” she asked, self-consciously.

“Nothing, I’m just… re-evaluating some things,” he said, slowly. “Tav, I’ve been a fool. I don’t know-”

“I am sorry to interrupt,” came a voice from beside their table. Neither of them had heard the person approach. Tav pulled her hands out of Gale’s instinctively, leaning back like she’d been burnt.

Standing over them was Jaheira, a biology professor whom they were both peripherally aware of.

“I just wanted to say to you, Gale, that what you’re doing is very courageous,” she said. Gale looked up at her, stunned. “I am ashamed to say that you are not the first student to have been put in this position by that woman, but by doing this, you can ensure that you are the last. I have been trying to get the dean to fire her for misconduct for years, but since I have been unable to provide evidence of wrongdoing, there was nothing to be done. None of her victims have ever been willing to come forward before. She is manipulative. She has this hold over people. So if she or the university make any trouble for you, come find me, alright? I will be happy to provide my testimony.”

“Thank you, professor,” Gale stuttered.

“I will leave you and your…” She regarded Tav for a moment. “…friend to it. Good evening.”

Gale looked back at Tav, eyes wide, as Jaheira walked away. “That was unexpected.”

“It’s good to know you’ve got faculty members in your corner. If Jaheira knew what Mystra was up to, then surely a lot of people must’ve known. That can only help your case.”

Gale frowned. “How did she know I was coming forward about this, though?”

“Maybe the dean told her? She’s been trying to bring this to his attention for years, from the sound of it.”

“I’m just concerned. I didn’t expect it to escape containment so fast. If Jaheira knows, who else does?”

His breathing was speeding up. Tav reached across the table again and grabbed his hands.

“It’s okay,” she murmured soothingly. “Don’t panic. We prepared for this, remember? It’s all going to be okay.”

Gale swallowed and squeezed her hands. “Thank you for being here with me. I don’t think I could do this without you.”

“You’re my best friend. I would never make you go through this alone.”

*

Their hands kept seeming to find each other after every separation. The two of them were walking home now, enjoined hands lightly swinging between them. It was dark and cold, but thankfully not wet.

“I told Wyll I was going to cook tomorrow night,” said Gale conversationally.

“Oh really?” Before all of this, Gale had cooked most nights, although the others pitched in where they could. He hadn’t cooked since his hospital stay. “What are you going to make?”

“I was going to start simple with a vegetable lasagne.”

“Sounds divine. I’ve missed your cooking.” Tav moved closer to him, leaning into his side for warmth.

“Cold?”

“A little.”

He let go of her hand to wrap an arm around her shoulders. “Better?”

She put her arm around his waist. This close, he could smell her deodorant and the fabric softener she used. “Much, thank you.”

They stayed that way until they reached the end of their street. They stopped on the corner, reluctantly pulling apart from their embrace. It was unspoken, but since the movie night, they had been a little more careful about showing physical affection to each other in front of their friends.

Gale wouldn’t have minded, but Astarion’s words to him kept swimming around in his head, never too far from the surface.

Don’t break her heart.

“Before we get back,” he said, stopping her, “I just wanted to say thank you again, Tav. I wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you.” He smiled at her, but her face fell.

“Don’t say that,” she said, her voice breaking. His smile faded immediately. “Don’t say that.”

“I’m sorry, I- Oof.” He was cut off by her burrowing her way into his arms, pressing her face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her again and, after a moment’s hesitation, dropped a kiss on the top of her head. “I know it’s not a pleasant thought, but it’s true. I was a wreck and you put me back together.”

Tav was crying now. He could feel the way her shoulders were shaking. She rubbed her face into his shirt, dampening the fabric.

“Please don’t cry, Tav. I hate that I’m hurting you like this.”

She shook her head, pulling away so that she could look him in the eyes. She grasped his biceps, locking her elbows.

“Promise me something, Gale?”

“Anything.” It was probably an unwise thing to say, but it was hard to be wise when she was looking up at him with doe eyes and a tearstained face.

“If it ever gets that bad again… If you ever want to end your life, you call me. No matter where you are or where I am. Even if we haven’t spoken to each other in twenty years. You call me. And I’ll come to you. And we can get through it together.” There was a fierceness in her expression that made his heart jump.

The idea of going for twenty years without seeing her sounded preposterous, but he knew that people grew apart. The thought of growing apart from Tav made him impossibly sad.

“Promise me?” she repeated.

“I promise.”

“Good.”

She was still looking up at him. For a brief moment of insanity, he thought about kissing her, just to see what it would feel like. His feelings were muddled and maybe kissing her would clarify things. Or maybe it would make this whole situation ten times messier.

The moment passed. She leant in and squeezed him one more time before pulling away completely.

“Come on,” she said. “I’m cold. Let’s get inside.”

*

After dinner, Gale decided it would be best to get an early night. It had been a very fraught and emotionally exhausting day.

Tav had hugged him goodnight even though they weren’t alone, which was enough to put a smile on his face. Astarion met his eye over Tav’s shoulder and gave him a warning look.

As Gale settled into bed, freshly showered and bone-tired, his phone starting buzzing. Someone was calling him. He turned it over to see the screen lit up with the last name he wanted to see right now.

Mystra.

Next Chapter

[variousqueerthings]

Rating Jodie Whittaker first season episodes, best to worse? yeah best to worse. subjective, of course:

1- Demons Of The Punjab

Clear winner for me, beautifully written and shot, with the science fiction element really interacting with the plot. I have some things I wish for this episode -- I wish it was even more explicit how much this situation came out of British colonialism, I wish Yaz had wanted to know about the origins of the watch even though she was there, because I kind of felt like it was for her grandmother more than for her (I would looove to pick the brains of the writer and actress), I wish the science fiction element had tied just a tad more explicitly to the plot, but to be honest considering how hamfisted and sometimes fully off-base the politics has been this era, especially in the next season but in this one occasionally too (THE SYSTEM ISN'T THE PROBLEM!) I am happy to take simple witnessing. But it's a great episode, it comes together well, it's... a rare... episode... about Yaz

2- The Woman Who Fell To Earth

I think this is a great introduction to Thirteen as a mad professor type Doctor. Simple. My favourite Doctor intros are the RTD and RTD2 eras (Nine, Ten, Fifteen), but I think Thirteen is fantastic in this, and it does introduce the companions well -- my one thing I'd change, probably grows gradually as I go through the era, and it's simply that I like Grace as a character more than Graham, and I did not like how she died, and especially not how throughout her death seems to be centred more on Graham than on Ryan

3- It Takes You Away

Frog. Frog. Frog. Also Scandinavian softcore horror for the intro. I mean generally this episode is just a fascinating little ride. So many twists and turns for something that's also so contained. And FROG! -- I do think this episode faltered just a tad on exploring why the dad stayed there, I mean, grief yes, but he's only in this one episode and so you're left with this guy who abandoned his daughter and played spooky noises to keep her inside a hut, while he lived it up in his fake reality with his fake wife, and initially I thought there was a bit of alien hypno or something involved, but no. Just a mess of a father, and then we move on. And also again, Grace only interacts with Graham and not with Ryan. BUT LISTEN! FROG! UNIVERSE FROG!

4- Rosa

Rosa is suuuuch a tricky episode to pull off and I think it being made at all is such major props. It's one of the (if not the) episodes where I genuinely have felt so much real-life fear for one of the companions, and it not shying away from that while attempting to balance it for kids, and having it educate people on Rosa Parks and that history, and Rosa is a fantastically written character as well. it's something I think really is indicative of consciously thinking about who matters in history/for the history episodes than dead white British guys. I rate it further down (although not far down) because I don't know if it was able to nail the ending properly. there was a fatalistic element to the idea of them having to stay seated so that Rosa could protest, and structurally I have questions about the villain, who is very thinly written, and the build throughout the episode being kind of anti-climactic to me. It's kind of pivoting around Rosa as the really interesting part of the episode and I'm glad that she is what works for me, but I don't think it works as an episode of science fiction, nor am I sure about what the ending in the bus is meant to tell us. it also features the first of the "feels like it's spoken directly to the camera" type speeches at the end, which we see more of in the next season.

5- The Ghost Monument

I mean, the ending where the Doctor speaks to the Tardis is it for me. I've heard some people don't like this episode, I think it's solid. it does suffer from Chibnall era sl-o-o-o-o-w pacing at times, which is a thing I've been finding more and more throughout and having checked which episodes feel like major offenders to me, they are ones that tend to be written by him. did just look back at previous seasons episodes by him, and actually he didn't do that many, but some of them are similar in structure, but perhaps not so noticeable when couched in other writers/showrunners. there was some mistake made in the ending of this episode when the companions finally see the Tardis and either the writing or directing decided that they needed to react to this with an understated "wow." Be big! this show is Big!

actually I wonder if that's at the core of some of the things I don't vibe with with Chibs (that and the trying to appease everyone appeases no one and the centre politics with some serious missteps), but structurally I don't think he quite accepts the Doctor Who-ness of it and sometimes tries too hard to turn it into Serious Scifi. sometimes I like that, and often DW is serious, but it's also silly and Camp. it's soul is Camp and Chibnall in his era is not (this the man who wrote Power Of Three, sir!)

but I'm ok with this episode not being so camp. it's serviceable, it gives us back the Tardis and she is Be-a-utiful and gives me one of my favourite little moments between the Doctor and the Tardis

(oh the other thing is Chibnall in his own era has Important Backstory come in oddly artificially and off to the side of the plot/doesn't smoosh the two together well enough. does that in a fair few of these, not just this one)

6- The Witchfinders

I enjoy this one. Alan Cumming plays James I as suitably gay and unhinged with an evil bent to it, there's some wild tree alien zombie witch action, the Doctor namedrops Houdini, I just quite enjoy it -- also it goes more off the rails than I feel like this era allows itself. This is "bad" but it's of the enjoyable kind in my opinion. I may actually in my soul put it one higher/switch it with Ghost Monument, but I'm too lazy to

7- The Tsuranga Conundrum

I like the lil alien in this. I think it suffers froooom... Pacing issues again! And it's another Chibnall written episode! I think I do enjoy the male pregnancy, I mean, I know several men and nbs who've been pregnant so I'm coming at it differently than I'm sure a large swathe of the UK audience, but it (from memory) didn't do any weird "now a man can know what this feels like" type commentary, it's just a planet where men give birth to men, and women give birth to women (sidenote on that, I read this as a Tardis mistranslation or a "close enough" type translation -- so it's just that one part of the species gives birth to one part of the species, and another to another, and Ryan and Graham and Yaz read that as Man and Woman so that's how the translation does it, cos they're not up on the queer lingo... makesya wonder about how dimorphism and potential intersex and trans ideas look on that planet too)

but yeah, a lot of this episode drags for me. I don't not enjoy it, but I think it comes at a point in the season where you wanted something a bit more adrenaline-filled. After the first episode we had the quiet Rosa, then the somewhat messy and also downstated Arachnids of the UK and then I felt kind of owed a big space to-do, which it did seem to start as, but then tapered out a bit. that being said I like a lot of the space ideas (neurological spaceship piloting!!!) and yeah. I don't dislike it

8- Arachnids Of The UK

ARACHNIDS IN THE UK THEY JUST LOCKED YOU IN A ROOM AND WAITED FOR YOU TO DIE I GUESS!!!!??? I think this is the... not the first episode, I think Rosa was the first for me, where it felt like the Doctor sometimes just doesn't act. As if the resolution is "things happen the way they happen and all we can do is hang about I guess"

which is a bit of a Chibs Politics issue and of course most obvious in our bottom rung, but yeah. Not so much of a fan of centrist Doctor, I need me some of that anarchic energy of the past!

we do meet Yaz's mum (hi Yaz's mum!) who asks if Yaz and the Doctor are dating and the Doctor is like... "is that what this is? if you say so" which is kind of hilarious, and Ryan's grime playlist. but overall a bit of a miss

9- Resolution

this was the first episode I hadn't seen before, and it featured one of my faves in the single episode lead and she was great. Unfortunately it felt to me like a rehashed Dalek plot that we've seen done better several times before

we did get Ryan's dad, which I appreciated, because I was under the impression we'd never get to see any of that. I like that he saw the Tardis and decided not to come, but is happy to see his son is cared for, and also that it's a complicated relationship that's being fixed. and I just grab at all the Ryan plot I possibly can!

10- The Battle Of Ranskoor Av Kolos

IIIIIIIIII thought this episode was boring (aahhhh sorry). which feels so damning in such a terrible way, almost worse than things I've said about M*ffat but maybe I should've said more of his episodes were boring, because many of them were, but they were like. maximalist boring, because he thought if he just blasted you full of enough images you'd not pay attention to whether or not there was any plot or character development, whereas this episode to me just... drags

I like the duo alien species, I think they're very cool. I don't think Tim Shaw was compelling enough to come back as a finale villain, I feel like they banked wrongly on that and that's why this episode suffers (well, that and the pacing)

it also shows a bit to me that there's a struggle in this era to do long-form character development at times. A lot of things get brought up in one episode and immediately dealt with within that episode through just... deciding to deal with it. sometimes this isn't the case (Ryan's dad was set up in episode 1 so we could sit with that for a bit, and he featured a lot in the episode he was in, Grace's memory has appeared several times throughout the season in some form or other) but Graham going "I'm gonna shoot this guy -- no never mind I thought it through and I won't" is a bit weak

there's also not a whole lot of this finale that deals with any of the companions or the Doctor in any deep way, they don't reaaally change or grow in a way that makes you go "ah yes, I see where you've come from and potentially where we're setting you up to go next." To be honest this was also a problem with M*ffat, specifically with Clara, who was three different characters depending on season, but in this one again it's not a mad forgetfulness of his own lore that's making Chibnall do this, it's just kind of static

11- Kerblam

aaaaand Kerblam. Honestly. opening salvo of this? Great. and then. it loses the fucking plot. and calls space Amazon alright actually. and just... I mean all of it's a mess. Capitalism Propaganda, from the characters to the resolution. make you blink a few times and worry perhaps that despite episodes like Demons of the Punjab and Rosa that ol' Chibs (who to be fair didn't write this one, but would have had final say on it and potentially commissioned the idea) is not the guy to be writing Progressive Doctor Who... maybe... who knows...

[the-jellicle-duelist]

random movie every week week 4/1498 - Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

hello, i have a lot of movies and i have not seen that many of them. so every week i will watch a movie at random, and then wright a little blog about it and give it a rating out of 5 stars Previous Posts, Chronologically: google doc link

THE RULES

i can skip any marvel movie i want (because i have seen them and i don't want to watch them again)

i can skip any movie i have seen more than twice (the goal is to watch movies that are new to me, but could be interesting to return to a movie i have only seen once, hence the rule)

ratings are out of 5 stars, with NO HALF STARS. half stars are for babies

If a film is part of a series, i reserve the right to start the film series from the beginning HERE WE GO

Raiders of the Lost Ark (1981)

i did roll another Indiana Jones film but i instead opted to watch the first movie of the series. i have never seen any of these films!

Raiders of the Lost Ark is about a professor of Archaeology, Indiana Jones, who is hired to find an ancient artifact before the Nazis get it. And then after a back and forth and some perils, the treasure they wanted haunts all the nazis and they all die and they're faces melt off.

i can see how if you were like, 10-16 years old in 1981 and you got to go see Raiders in a theater it was probably a blast. it has some real peak summer blockbuster energy and action. as for me, being in my mid 30's and it being 2023 and i am sitting at home, and everything is different now, i found the story and the characters feeling pretty empty. and overall it was not really ~that~ enjoyable. sort of fun, mostly mindless, pretty unoffensive.

ROTLA has the energy of a hong kong cinema film without any of the charm or skill of those kung fu movies, so the action sequences feel pretty empty. the latter half of the film has a little more tension as indy and marion are trying to escape from the tomb and everything. but as action movies go it falls beneath even like many james bond films in terms of the feeling and fun of the action.

the central tension of the film is like 'well certainly the nazis shouldn't have artifact' and while i agree, it's not really compelling that Indy wants the artifact either, when his aim is to put it into a museum. it reads pretty strangely in a time when i am questioning the legitimacy of foreign artifacts in white owned museums. Indy is not even trying to get the artifact for an Egyptian museum. so for me it doesn't really matter other than a devil you know vs. the devil who are nazis type situation.

and the ending, even tho it included nazis dying, didn't really feel earned? they died of their own hubris sure but like that wasn't Indiana Jones melting nazi faces. in a movie that was otherwise 'straight' (read; no magical stuff happening) to just have at the end some magical shit happen doesn't sit well with me

maybe i should have turned my brain off more, but i felt it was pretty off throughout the movie so i'm not sure what else i could to enjoy it more other than pay less attention, which for a series of reviews like these is not really an option.

i give Raiders of the Lost Ark a 2/5. i bet gen x dads are obsessed with it but i am not them, and it really didn't do anything for me.

as always my during the film notes as a screenshot are here:

[liladiurne]

10 Lines Tagging Game

Thanks so much @givereadersahug for tagging me!

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

I don't know if we're meant to share ONLY the first line of each but... I guess I took liberties then. Sorry about that.

1. Brighter Than Bright

(Rated E, WIP, slow burn, a/b/o, Pride and Prejudice adaptation)

The sun rises, bright and beautiful. Harry looks up just in time to watch it pierce the horizon, igniting the field with golden light. The warmth is overwhelming already, even in the cool, misty air of dawn, and though the grass is wet underneath him, he knows his clothes will dry long before anyone can see the poor state of them.

2. A Strange Fate

(Rated M, based on the myth of pygmalion, statue!Harry, sculptor!Severus)

For the longest time, nothing happened. He rested at the heart of the mountain, in silence and darkness. He felt no fear, no loneliness. He lay cradled in the bowels of the earth, as he had been from the very beginning.

Perhaps, even then, he waited for something. But he did not know yet what waiting was.

3. Miraculous

(Rated E, muggle AU, escort!Harry, rich!Severus, pining)

Severus barges into the gents just in time to see Lucius tucking his shirt back into his trousers. If it weren't for the attendant standing near the row of gleaming white urinals, he would lunge at his friend, grab him by his priceless silk bowtie, and threaten him with violence. But since there is a witness present, he settles instead for a menacing scowl.

4. An Escape

(Rated E, muggle AU, underage, coercion, abused!Harry, very bad!Severus)

Severus is deep in slumber when the call comes. So deep it seems to takes ages for him to emerge, like trying to crawl his way out of a pit of wet cement. When finally he manages to fully wake, for an instant the world is still so blurry he thinks he’s imagined the ringing. But then he pries open his eyes, and his ears come to life to the aggressive shrill of his mother’s old rotary phone echoing through the house.

5. Certain Dark Things

(Rated E, Malfoy!Harry, summer in italy, CMBYN-inspired, first person Sev pov)

Some years ago, a trap was laid out for me. Make no mistake, however, I was not fooled or tricked in any way; I was aware of it all along. I had been a spy, after all, and I tended to notice these things. It was an obvious sort of trap too, nothing like these strange metal contraptions left on the forest floor, half covered with leaves, into which any innocent doe’s leg might get snapped up. No, my trap was always present, never hidden, ever watchful. It shone like a beacon, calling me out from the darkness like the flame would lure an unsuspecting moth.

6. Compulsory Figures

(Rated E, muggle AU, figure skaters!, confident!Severus, shy but thirsty!Harry, smutty)

It’s not yet eight in the morning when Severus gets to the training centre, but already the usual crowd has gathered by the rink to gawk and gasp and gossip. And though he pauses to watch with them, huddled up in a thick scarf and cradling his old thermos in both hands, he stands apart, keeps a careful distance. Lest anyone decides to talk to him before he’s had time to finish at least half of his coffee.

7. On the Deficiencies of Translation Spells

(Rated E, post-war, Beauxbâtons professors, bad French, pining)

The bloke’s name is Florient, and he is so French Harry almost snorts when he introduces himself. He has unconventionally large eyebrows and a strange little moustache that Harry tries very hard not to stare at fixedly. He is dressed in a crisp white shirt, but he wears his trousers with the legs tucked into his socks – so they don’t catch into his bicycle chain, he explains when Harry frowns at the sight.

8. Sudden Light

(Rated E, post-war, memory loss, angsty, based on Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind)

First is the sound of retreating footsteps and the muffled, distant slamming of a door. Then Severus startles awake.

The drapes are open, filling the room with pale light. He winces and shuts his eyes against it quickly, but the pain assaults him at once. Acute, violent, and throbbing.

He moans a pitiful sound, cradling his head in both hands.

9. with great outbursts and lightnings

(Rated E, muggle AU, poet!Severus, violinist!Harry, angsty angsty, pining)

Severus wakes up late, clutching the sheets around his body, curled up as if he’d been repeatedly kicked in the stomach while he slept. Eyes still shut, unwilling to face reality just yet, he chases sleep as far as he can. It comes and goes for an hour or so and then it’s gone, leaving behind unidentifiable wisps of dreams. When finally he opens his eyes, it’s already past noon. The bedroom is drenched in sunlight and the pillow wet against his cheek.

Here goes. That only makes nine, but decided not to include my French translation of Certain Dark Things, nor the short smutty sequel to with great outbursts and lightnings.

I don't really know who to tag. I'm sure everyone I know has probably been tagged in this already, and I wouldn't want anyone to feel any pressure to do this. So please, if you follow me and want to do this, you are more than welcomed to pretend I tagged you. xx

[mediaevalmusereads]

Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands. By Heather Fawcett. Del Rey, 2024.

Rating: 4/5 stars

Genre: fantasy

Series: Emily Wilde #2

Summary: Emily Wilde is a genius scholar of faerie folklore who just wrote the world’s first comprehensive encyclopaedia of faeries. She’s learned many of the secrets of the Hidden Ones on her adventures . . . and also from her fellow scholar and former rival Wendell Bambleby.

Because Bambleby is more than infuriatingly charming. He’s an exiled faerie king on the run from his murderous mother and in search of a door back to his realm. And despite Emily’s feelings for Bambleby, she’s not ready to accept his proposal of marriage: Loving one of the Fair Folk comes with secrets and dangers.

She also has a new project to focus on: a map of the realms of faerie. While she is preparing her research, Bambleby lands her in trouble yet again, when assassins sent by his mother invade Cambridge. Now Bambleby and Emily are on another adventure, this time to the picturesque Austrian Alps, where Emily believes they may find the door to Bambleby’s realm and the key to freeing him from his family’s dark plans.

But with new relationships for the prickly Emily to navigate and dangerous Folk lurking in every forest and hollow, Emily must unravel the mysterious workings of faerie doors and of her own heart.

***Full review below.***

CONTENT WARNINGS: blood, violence

OVERVIEW: I enjoyed the first book in this series and was eager to pick up book 2. To my delight, the sequel was every bit as charming and whimsical as it's predecessor, and now I'm a little salty that I have to wait for book 3. If you like fantasy where fairies are definitely not human (or human-like) and main characters who are smart but also make mistakes, I would highly recommend this series.

WRITING: Fawcett's prose is very quick, which means that you can get through it fast. This isn't to suggest that it's poor - though there isn't a lot of heavy description, it's atmospheric enough and very playful. I appreciated the pace in part because it meant there were few moments that felt slow; the plot was always advancing, and Fawcett didn't take her eyes off her story.

PLOT: The plot of this book follows Professor Emily Wilde as she attempts to help her colleague and lover, Wendell Bambleby, find a door to his home kingdom. Emily suspects she can locate a nexus - a door that leads to more than one place. Following in the footsteps of missing scholar Danielle de Grey, she traces the evidence to a village in the Alps, hoping that Wendell can avoid the waves of his stepmother's assassination attempts in the process.

What I appreciated most about this story was that although it was focused on Wendell's kingdom and Wendell's mysterious illness following an assassination attempt, it never ceased to be Emily's story. Emily is always making plans and using her expertise to piece things together, and even when she's out of her element, she knows how to use Wendell as a resource. Emily also makes mistakes and faces obstacles, which means that it feels like she continues to grow even after having a while first book.

I also enjoyed how Fawcett weaved together several different threads in a way that was very conscious of storytelling conventions. This plot it filled with marvelous coincidences and foreshadowing, but rather than feel lazy, it feels deliberate - like Fawcett is playing with fairy tale structure.

All that being said, I gave this book 4 stars because there are moments which felt a little hand-wavey. Fawcett's worldbuilding is fun and whimsical, but there are times when something is just chalked up to "fairy logic" or something without much sense of reason. This isn't to say that fairies need to be rational, but there were things that felt rather too convenient.

CHARACTERS: Emily, our protagonist, is as loveable as ever, what with her confidence and her intelligence and overall awkwardness around people. I loved that she was unafraid to stand up for herself and her expertise, and I appreciated that her arc contained a balance of wins and losses. It made her feel less of a superhero and more of a clever scholar who struggles to find real human connection.

I especially liked Emily's relationships with supporting characters. Her romance with Wendell is charming, and I love their back and forth banter (which doesn't go away!). I also liked how Emily struggles to show affection towards her niece (who has become her assistant) and how she has an antagonistic-turned-mentorship connection with Professor Rose. It made for character arcs that felt complex but not so complex that it overshadowed the plot.

TL;DR: Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherworlds is a marvelous second installment in the Emily Wilde series. It has a multi-layered plot combined with all the magic and whimsy of traditional fairy stories, and I'm excited to see what happens in book 3.

[oliviainjapann]

May 15th- Musashi University and Tour

Today was a rough start for me. I got less sleep then I had hoped to get due to hanging out with my friends until late, so I rushed down to breakfast and forced myself to eat some. I need to start going to other places for breakfast. We then all traveled to Musashi University. At the station I quickly realized I did not have my Suica card and I began to panic. (I really did lose it as I turned my room upside down trying to find it when we got home and it has vanished). Dr. Smith stayed behind with me as I loaded a suica card onto my phone and it was all good, just unfortunate that i lost 8000 yen on the card that was left. However, I now feel superior that I can just tap my phone to the scanner without even opening the wallet app and don’t have to worry about a card anymore. The university was very small, but very cute and pretty. The lecture we sat in on was about Futurism, which was interesting and made me really think about what my version of a utopia means. We then got to hang out with university students and get to know them and their interests. It was very wholesome and they seemed to really want to get to know us, despite my previous understanding that Japanese students are typically very shy. We then got lunch at a “kitchen car”, their version of a food truck. I prefer the name kitchen car. The food was so fire, and my garlic butter steak and rice hit. We got to take cute pictures with all the students and taught them the gator chomp, and exchanged instagrams! Then, we traveled to Tokyo Station where we met up with some more university students, and 3 of us were paired with 1 uni student to show us around the station. Tokyo station was pretty cool, and I got some cute things for myself and for friends, but then we were kind of not feeling it anymore. We also were very confused and did not understand that we were supposed to leave the station to explore with our student. Our student thought that we just stay at the station for 2 hours and then meet up with the rest of the group at 5 pm. But by the time we realized that this was not correct, it was too late to go anywhere else and we were all tired and wanted to go home. So we awkwardly parted ways with our tour guide, and we felt bad that there was such a big misunderstanding. She also felt bad and apologized profusely which made us even more sad and we assured her everything was fine and that she was amazing and that nothing was her fault!! We then came home and Ryder and I decided to do a yoga session. I am now on a train to Shimo-Kitazawa to go thrift shopping with my friend Chandra who lives here. Today was a great day, and I’m so thankful to be here and to have made these incredible friends!! I’m so sad we’re almost halfway done already wow.

Academic Reflection

Today’s reading on Future Studies clearly aligned with the lecture that we got to sit in on today at the university. It was a very interesting read because I often try not to think so much about the future and try to stay in the present moment, but this made me start to think about what our future will be like. What really struck me was when the reading discussed how the future cannot be predicted as it does not exist, and that any useful idea about the future will appear ridiculous at first. We often think that these crazy ideas about the future that are so technologically advanced and dystopian are just that, crazy, but that’s really not true. At the rate that we are progressing in terms of AI and VR, these ideas are very much so probable.

The professor asked us to write on a piece of paper what utopia means to us. I wrote about how in my perfect world, everyone is happy and that there is peace for everyone. I think that a major reason why there is so much hate and inequality in this world is due to people’s search for power, as well as disagreements about religion. As a very religious person, I truly hope that everyone is able to experience the love of God and connect to one another in this way. We were all created equal, and through loving each other and showing each other grace and kindness, I believe we can achieve a better world. I hope that our future is in good hands, and I hope that more people begin to understand the importance of this soon.

[facefullofsadness]

my head, shoulders, knees, and toes

내 머리 어깨 무릎 발

university!au

tutor!karina x student!reader

prompt - you're failing one of your classes, so your professor assigns a tutor to help you, a pretty girl in glasses named karina

content - smut (masturbation, fingering, praise kink, slapping, vibrator usage, edging), karina referred to as jimin, time skip usage

wc - 4703

a/n - tysm for 100 (now 200 <3) followers! I've been getting more support than I ever expected to get and it's extremely motivating so ty ty. tutor rina won the poll so hope u guys enjoy! (okay she's blonde in the pics but she's black haired in the fic, it's not a continuity error if it was on purpose! ignore it!)

good lord, I'm so fucked.

it's really not my fault that the class was notorious for being insanely difficult, to add on to everything I was already struggling with like my other classes or personal responsibilities. however, it showed that while I tried my best in the class, my efforts would fall short.

literally being called out of my thoughts when my professor calls me over to his desk after lecture was over, saying he wanted to talk.

"sir?" I ask, voice nervous but evidently knowing what the discussion was gonna lead to.

"miss y/n l/n, I know you're working hard, but these grades? these just cannot do," he states simply, gesturing to the laptop he scrolled through with my grades on it.

I sigh, "I know sir, there's just so much material and so little time for me to get everything down. I'll make it work."

"I'm sure you want to but exams are coming up soon, at this rate, I don't think you'll be able to pass."

my heart drops to my stomach hearing that. gradually failing was one thing, to actually fail the entire thing was another.

"so I'll do this for you. I've arranged for a tutor to help you with the material so hopefully you can get back on your feet. she's really great, one of my top students and a good teacher too, I think you'll be able to get along with her well."

I swear I could cry and fall to my knees in gratitude, "thank you sir! this is definitely gonna save me!"

"no problem miss l/n, the class is hard so I understand, and I want you to succeed. check your email regularly this week, she'll email you soon. you're dismissed," he nods and smiles at me.

I say my thanks repeatedly before leaving, a slight pep in my step as I make my way back to my apartment, feeling determined and excited. all I wonder is who must this top student tutor be and what will she be like?

I checked my email over and over again like a madman for 2 days, literally refreshing the page religiously waiting for something to come in. and so when I finally received my email, I was ecstatic. being at a local café with my friend aeri when I felt a vibration come from my phone.

I shoved my hand into my pocket to get my phone and check the notification that was in fact an email.

"why are you acting like you got a text back from your crush? is it THAT serious?" aeri scoffs at me.

"yes it's that serious! I've been waiting for days and the sooner I can start, the better!" I open the email and read:

Subject: Tutoring Sessions

To: Y/N L/N

From: Jimin Yu

Hi Y/N! I'm sure Sir has already talked to you by now about assigning a tutor to you. I'm Jimin and I'll be your tutor from now until the exam. I've planned for our first session to be tomorrow and from then on we'll have 2 sessions every week. To make it more comfortable for you, I decided that it'd be better to hold our first meeting at your place, so reply soon with your address and I'll see you there tomorrow at 5 P.M!

"at your place? she wants you so bad," aeri laughs next to me as I finish reading the email.

"what do you mean?! she said it was just to make me comfortable! she's just being nice... I don't even know what she looks like yet! god, you're annoying," I roll my eyes.

"geez calm down, we'll get your coffee soon don't worry, I forget how grumpy you are without it," she says, poking my cheek and smiling at my pout, "but don't say I didn't tell you so when she starts flirting with you."

I brush her off, "I doubt it's even gonna be like that, it'd be too difficult to focus if she was pretty, so don't jinx me!"

aeri fucking jinxed me.

I spent the entire day cleaning and making sure my apartment looked presentable in preparation for the girl named jimin that was coming to meet me. all day, I kept repeating in my head what aeri had said to me. I tried to brush it off and remember the real reason as to why there was a girl coming over to my home in the first place, but it never left my mind.

and so when I heard the soft but resonate knocks on my door at 5 pm that indicated she was here, my heart started picking up its pace. I hesitantly open the door and holy fuck. a tall dark haired girl in all black, denim jacket resting on her shoulders, book bag slung across her chest, and black framed glasses that were a little too big for her small face rested on her nose stood in the hallway outside my door. I swallow a lump in my throat at the goddess standing in my doorway and try my best to not be speechless at the sight of her.

"h-hi! you must be jimin, right?" I ask.

"yes I am, you must be y/n?" her voice soothing and deep.

"that I am! please, come in," I move to the side to let the girl walk in and she follows.

I close the door behind her and release a heavy sigh, fuck you aeri uchinaga.

I lead her to the desk in my room and let her sit down in one of the two office chairs I had.

"today, I wanted to get started on some studying, but also get to know you a little. we're gonna be spending quite some time together so I wanna know who you are, be someone who you can get close to," jimin tells me and I nod.

"so tell me y/n, every little detail I should know about you," she says lowly and, seductively? I have to be imagining it already.

I just let out a nervous laugh before I introduce myself, parts of my past, how I got into the school, my academic strengths and weaknesses, my hobbies, my goals coming out of each tutoring session, everything I thought she would want to hear. but as I would ramble on about whatever I had to say, when I would look up at her, she seemed to listen intently, legs crossed and leaning forward against her fist, her eyes trained on my moving lips.

her stare intimidated me and made me feel small, wanting to shrink into my chair and look away. every time I would make an attempt to tear my eyes away, jimin would shift closer to me, forcing my attention onto her. either she was just really interested in my introduction or she demanded my eyes to only lay on her. after some time when I finished, she sat up, smiling at me with her lips and her eyes. a kind expression laid on her face, a 180 from the alluring girl from just seconds ago.

"that's great y/n, I'm glad I got to know more about you. I'll keep mine short and simple. my name's jimin yu. I was one of sir's students from a previous year but became a tutor for the subject since he strongly suggested I should, so I've been doing this for a little while now. just a few one-off sessions with people that come into the library. however, this is the first time I'm directly tutoring someone, so I look forward to working with you, a lot." jimin's voice deepens with the last two words she says, sending chills down my spine.

"so, shall we start getting to work?"

it was already late by the time jimin left my place.

I clean up the area and washup, deciding it would be best to just call it a day. I lay down in my bed and close my eyes, trying to sleep. but the only thoughts that run through my head are filled with jimin. the way her lips would slide into a small grin, the way she'd tuck a strand of hair that would fall in front of her face behind her ear, the way her nose would scrunch slightly when focusing on checking my work, the way her touch lingered on my skin when she would brush against me, the way she told me "good girl y/n, you did so well today" at the end of our session.

I was intoxicated by the thought of her. my skin still felt on fire in the places she touched and I couldn't get enough, I needed her, my body craved more of her. my hands had a mind of their own when they start to undo my shorts, slipping under them to trail my slit through my underwear. I hear my own short breaths come from my mouth when my finger brushes my clit, my hips rising and falling on their own at the feeling.

it only whirrs me on when I see jimin in my head, her body hovering over me, her hand sliding down my shorts and over my clothed core, finger trailing up and down my entrance.

"do you like that y/n? does it feel good when I touch you like this?" I hear her voice echo in my mind ask me, low and seductive.

my breath hitches when her finger presses against my clit and rubs, my back arching. I can feel her hot breath against my ear when she whispers.

"what happened to my good girl? turns out you're just so naughty, aren't you?"

her hand slips under my panties and slide against my slit to gather my wetness, "myyyy, you're leaking so much, precious. all this for me?"

a whine escapes from my throat, "fuck jimin yes, just for you."

she chuckles, "it better be." I feel two of her fingers push all the way into me.

I moan out loudly, her digits slowly thrusting in and out of me.

"that's it, you take me so well. you feel so tight around my fingers."

her palm rubs against my clit as my other hand flies to my mouth as I bite down on it to muffle my intense whimpering.

"ahh fuck, yes jimin..."

her pumping is slow and patient, but each push feels so pleasurable and delicious, my mind goes blank. a particular thrust of her fingers brush against that spot in me that makes me moan loudly, not even I could muffle it.

"there it is," jimin whispers, voice deep.

she starts to speed up, her digits hitting that spot over and over again, making me bite down harder on my hand. my hips grind against her palm to rub my clit on, desperately chasing my incoming orgasm.

"ji- shit, jimin... please don't stop," I plead.

"give it to me, let everything go," she tells me.

the last deep pump of her fingers and rub of my clit is enough to push me to climax. my hips buck against her hand as waves of pleasure release from my body and the hand on my mouth can't stop the moaning and whines that escape. my body falls against my plush mattress and I catch my breath. when I finally come to, I open my eyes and jimin's gone.

she was never there to begin with of course, my shirt hiked up my chest and hand dug into my panties. I slip my fingers out of my entrance with a groan and stare at the sticky substance dripping down my wrist. I can only imagine how much more intense it'd be if jimin actually fucked me.

today's the day I see jimin again. sure, it's supposed to be a tutoring session, but academics are one of the last things on my mind when it comes to thinking about meeting up with her. instead, I think of what to wear. we'd be meeting up at her place for today's session, much to my excitement but also nervousness. sure, it's really soon to start thirsting so hard about this girl I've known for less than maybe two days, but I had to make my time count while it lasted.

I stand outside her apartment door in a crop top that really did nothing to cover my top half and a skirt that left no thoughts to the imagination. aeri was so gonna make fun of me for "slutting myself out" for my tutor as quickly as I did. god, I hate when she's right.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when jimin answers the door and my breath hitches. there she stood in a tight tank top that outlined her body way too well and sweatpants, like a stereotypical fuckboy. although instead of being disgusted, it bothered me how good she looked, those black framed glasses again sitting on her nose, her hair in a high ponytail with strands of her hair falling to frame her face. I stand there, dumbfounded, looking at the beautiful woman.

we both stand there for awhile, seemingly both of us taking in the sight of each other, though to me, it was mostly me looking fucking stupid gawking at the taller girl.

jimin giggles at the realization, "you wanna come in?"

I blink myself back into reality, scratching the back of my head and feeling my cheeks heat up, "y-yeah, sure." stupid answer.

I walk into the sizeable and humble apartment and take off my shoes, jimin closing the door behind me and leading me inside.

studying was going well, joined by a few questionable moments.

we were sat at jimin's coffee table on the floor of the living room since we both agreed it would be comfy, being near the kitchen too, her insisting that snacks were necessary when wanted. I had zoned in on a practice worksheet she had sent me over email and felt productive knowing that all my answers were correct. once in a while, she would check on me and my work, her chest tight in her tank top that when she would lean over, I would get a flattering view of her cleavage.

my cheeks would heat up at the sight and how disrespectful it felt to look, and I know she would take notice, giggling at my embarrassed expression. it made me think whether or not she did it on purpose. sometimes her free hand not writing on her paper would land on my leg closest to her, resting atop my exposed knee and rubbing the skin. my breathing became uneven with every movement of her thumb up until the moment her hand would leave to turn the page in her notebook.

these moments lingered in my mind but I tried to power through them, knowing they probably meant nothing and it was just my mind playing tricks on me. a particular question popped up on the worksheet and it stumped me. I wrote down an answer but I was unsure of how correct it was.

I call out for jimin, "hey, can you check this one? I'm not sure if it's right."

it alerts her attention and she turns towards me. jimin leans against me and looks down at my paper, her chest pressing against my upper arm. I feel her arm prop her up behind me as her other arm reaches over to mark up my notes. my body stiffens at the contact, her face near my neck too, feeling her breath brush against my exposed shoulder. I bite down on my lip and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force away the intrusive thoughts shooting into my mind and open them again to see that she had stopped writing.

I turn my head cautiously towards her and glance at her impossibly close face. jimin's eyes lock onto mine and I can't look away. her lips are parted and gaze darts between staring deep into mine and at my lips, the bottom one still between my teeth. I tear my eyes away, looking back down at my paper.

"n-nevermind, I can figure it out..." I stutter, scooting myself towards the table, away from her.

she lets me go but her hand on my paper never leaves.

"you sure? you can't suddenly figure out the physiological functions of an anatomical part, can you?" she challenges, amused.

"I can try! I just have to use the elimination process right? I already know from what we've done so far that-" she interrupts me.

"then tell me, what's the function of the small intestine in the digestive system?"

my mind goes blank. I know this, this is one of the basic things we learned. but for some reason, in this moment, I can't think straight. I feel her scoot closer to me, invading my personal space moreso than just a moment ago.

"uhm..."

"well? you know we don't have all day. I suggest you get the answer right," she hums, the last sentence laced with some sort of venom with the way she says it. the threat scares me.

"absorption... of water?" I'm wrong, it's nutrients.

but before I can correct myself, my head gets pulled backwards by my hair and I choke on air. my wide eyes look up at jimin's, her eyes are half-lidded through her glasses and she's intimidating. the grip on my hair hurts but her expression is what I'm more afraid of.

"that's wrong sweetie, do you wanna try again?" she whispers, her voice sweet, but actions dangerous.

I feel the gulp travel down my throat as I try again, "it's for n-nutrients. the large intestine absorbs water."

a smile travels across her lips before the hold in my hair leaves slowly, "good girl."

she pulls away and marks at my paper, correcting the notes I had jotted down. I lift my head back up and take a deep breath, blinking my eyes rapidly in disbelief. what the fuck just happened? I ask myself the question again when the hand that was just gripping my hair travels around my side and caresses my exposed waist. that arms pulls me into jimin's body, my back fully flush against her front.

"hm, try answering this one y/n," her pen taps at the question, "how long does it take food to completely pass through the body?"

my hand in my lap clutches at the hem of my skirt, "it depends."

her hand on my waist trails up and under my shirt as my breath hitches, "more specific."

I exhale a shaky breath when her fingertips trace my nipples through my lacy bra, "th-that's not fair."

a squeal leaves my throat when she pinches one in her fingers, "that's not good enough princess, try again."

I squeeze my eyes shut at the stinging contact of her fingers pinching my sensitive bud and try to think of the best answer I can give, "f-from ten hours t-to two days?"

her hot breath releases next to my ear before she whispers into it, "good job." with that, she lets go of my pained nipple and gropes the boob softly.

my breathing is uneven as I write down the answer, "ji-jimin, I don't-"

she interrupts me again, "next question y/n."

her other hand leaves the table and pen behind, moving it to sneak under my skirt, feeling up my sensitive thighs. I sink my teeth into my bottom lip when her fingertips trail the material of my underwear.

I can hear her let out an amused chuckle, "only panties? myyyy, darling, how naughty of you."

the dialogue coming from her mouth rings in my ears as it reminds me of the way I imagined her speaking just a few days ago. the realization makes my head spin and so does the throbbing of my center.

"I can't focus if you touch me like that..." my voice trails off when her fingers slide against my slit through my panties.

"you will," she states firmly. "now go, write down the answer to the next one."

I try to focus, I really do, looking down at the paper and thinking of the answer. but the pen in my hand is shaking, my body being the cause of it, and jimin being the one to blame. her hands were greedy, both of them under my skirt, one caressing my thigh and the other going up and down the wet spot of my underwear.

I shakily write down the answer, but apparently the wrong one because then, jimin's hand caressing my thigh suddenly slaps it, causing me to yelp out her name.

"that's wrong honey, try again."

I cross out the answer to try another one, but when I feel the other thigh get slapped, I know it's wrong, the stinging sensation a painful reminder.

"go on y/n, answer the fucking question," it's a demand that leaves her lips.

rewriting another answer to finally get it right since the red marks forming on my thighs suddenly are rubbed against soothingly.

"that's correct princess," I feel her mouth mumble against the skin of my neck, "I should really reward you for that one, that was a hard question."

I have no time to question what she means when she pushes my panties to the side and slides her long fingers against my wetness. I release a long moan at the sensation, eyes clamping shut and my hands stilling their movement.

"you're soaked sweetie, all this yummy juice just for me?" she smiles against my skin.

"mmph, yes jimin, everything all for you..." I whimper and whine.

she leaves a kiss on my jaw, "good girl, I love to hear that."

with enough slick on her fingers, she pushes two digits smoothly into my cunt, curling them once she's down to her knuckles.

"fuck!" I moan out, clutching the skirt material and pen in my hands.

"do the next question darling," jimin urges me with a light voice, her fingers pumping in and out of my aching pussy.

each thrust makes my head spin, but I try to obey her and flutter my eyes open to glue them to the page again. with every question I answer correctly, her pace quickens. my hand on my skirt flies instead to her legs on either side of me, clutching her sweatpants as the speed of her fingers amplifies. but with every question I answer wrong, her pumping stills, my hole clenching tightly around her digits.

the next question I answer correctly, her fingers struggle to move with how clamped down my entrance was on her. but she breaks through the tightness, jimin's pace extremely fast. she curls her fingers perfectly to hit that delicious spot in me, back arching against her body.

"found it, good to know I can easily find it," she whispers into my ear, biting at the lobe and railing her hand into my loud sopping cunt.

"jim-in! I-I'm!" my voice trembles with her fingers in me.

"answer this question for me sweetheart, if you get it right, I'll let you cum," jimin's voice low, "name 3 causes of a stomachache."

not even one cause comes to mind with the way my own stomach aches to release the tension. I get so close to orgasm, but it all gets taken from me when jimin rips her hand away. I whine and my legs thrash at the loss of contact.

"answer me y/n," her voice is firm and my eyes are squeezed shut.

I try and think of an answer as I hear her rummage around the stuff she had under her table. my eyes spring open at the feeling of a solid and phallic shaped object pressing against my entrance. I look down to see a dark colored vibrator collect my pleasure before pushing into me, ripping a deep groan from my throat.

"start with one," her gentle kisses plant across the length of my neck and shoulder.

I stutter out a single answer, "m-menstrual cramps..."

she's satisfied with my answer, humming against my skin. with that, jimin reaches over and presses a button on the toy, a low vibration flowing through my legs and a heavy sigh leaves my lips.

"second?" she inquires.

she starts to thrust the toy in and out of me lazily, the vibrations making my head dizzy.

"con-stipatio-tion..." I struggle to say, the pleasure gradually building in my stomach.

she hums again, kissing my cheek before increasing the setting on the toy, making me drop my pen and take both hands to fly to her legs, the material of her sweatpants bunched up in my grip.

"third and last darling, you're doing so well," her praises fill my body with warmth, both the sweet and lustful kind.

I feel my hips begin to roll against the vibrator, chasing the pleasure I so desperately needed.

"in- fuck, indiges- ah! indigestion!" I moan, jimin increasing the setting even before I could get the full answer out.

"oh princess, you're so good at this. we're almost done."

she begins to speed up the thrusting of the toy, the wet noises of it sloshing in and out of my pussy filling my ears, along with my pathetic panting and jimin's heavy sighs.

"fuck jimin! please!" I moan out, the intensity of the vibrator in me making me lose any form of coherent thought.

the pleasure was so much, but it wasn't enough to make me cum yet, and she knew that.

"c'mon sweetie, you know I won't let you cum until you get the question correct, right?" jimin's words in my ear are soft but so sick.

she's teasing me, playing with me like I'M the toy, and it's working out for her.

"you can do it y/n, I know you can. what can pale stool indicate?"

the last thing I wanna think about while getting fucked by my tutor is what color shit means what, but here I am. I desperately moan against her, my hips pushing against her hand keeping the vibrator in me, hands clutching the material of her sweats.

"fuck, it's- fuck jimin! b-bile! lack of fucking bile!" I cry out.

she chuckles lowly into my ear and places a kiss under it, "that's my girl, I knew you could do it."

with that, her other hand pulls away from holding my other leg open and her fingers part my pussy lips, gathering the juice and rubbing my clit. I yell out her name and throw my head back against her shoulder. my legs shake and I feel my pleasure build up impossibly high. my hips move against her hands on their own, thrusting against her like a rabid dog, whimpering desperately into the air.

"cum y/n, cum all over my hands," jimin demands lowly against my skin.

"jimin, ah!" I call out finally, my climax hitting me. my hands form fists against her gray sweatpants, eyes clutch shut, mouth falling open and spilling cries as I feel my thighs stutter and hole clench around the vibrating toy. my clit throbs and my hips shake, my body falling limp against jimin and becoming weak in her steady hold. the pleasure continues to wash over me in waves, my chest heaving to catch up with my breathing. slowly, jimin slides the vibrator out of me and turns it off, caressing my slit with it, sending shocks throughout my body.

I flutter my eyes open to look up at her, a content expression lying on her face. she brings the cum covered toy up to her lips and sticks her tongue out, dragging it across the lengthy object. wrapping her mouth over the toy and closing her lips at its base, watching her cheeks hollow as she sucks all of my cum off of it until it's only covered in a thin layer of her spit. jimin licks her lips and smirks at me, eyes meeting mine through her glasses.

her hands maneuver me to hoist me onto her lap, holding my limp body against hers, my face burying into her neck and my arms clutching her torso. she kisses my cheek and giggles against my ear, "shall we take a break?"

a/n - and then they had many a tutoring session after that :) this fic beat my ass, I could not get the pacing right and didn't know what I wanted to happen, so sorry if it took so long and if it's not that good ;((( I need to get to writing more aespa stuff since they're actually the whole reason I wanted to start on here, but rockstar!yunjin is just always on my mind, it's hard to keep up!! ningjeong I will write about you soon I swear!

[iloveabunchofgames]

2/12/23 - Week In Review

#JakeReviewsItch Week In Review Archives

This week's reviews:

🧡🧡🧡🧡🤍 a new life. 🧡🤍🤍🤍🤍 A NIGHTMARE'S TRIP 🧡🧡🧡🧡🤍 A Normal Lost Phone 🧡🧡🧡🤍🤍 A Planet of Mine 🧡🧡🧡🧡🤍 A Short Hike 🧡🧡🧡🤍🤍 A Sketchbook About Her Sun 🧡🧡🧡🧡🤍 A Snake's Tale Later in this post, we're going deep Nintendo news and capitalism:

The return of the Touch Generation

Freshly Announced Zelda's Pricey Rupeeland

The relative value of old games But first...

Game of the Week:

Without a doubt, this is the strongest week so far. There's a clear winner in this batch (as well as a clear loser), but the runners-up have been on my mind a lot over the last few days.

The above screenshot comes from the early moments of this week's best game, a new life. Although May, on the verge of admitting she has a crush on August, is referring to the vulnerability of emotional intimacy, I snapped this image because I wasn't sure yet where this story was going. Friends, the most embarrassing about this game might be that I myself out of giving it a 5/5 rating. My review's harshest criticism was that there weren't enough opportunities to connect to the characters and their tiny world. While I don't think changing scores is in the spirit of this project, having now had time to reflect, the story a new life. tells is bigger than its fictional narrative. A recommendation carries more weight when it's back up with details, but I'm asking you to take my word on this one. On that subject, this week's review of A Normal Lost Phone (currently the second-best reviewed game in the ranking) is largely about the frustration of recommending games that are best played cold. Look, I would love to talk freely about the content of these games, but if you've played them, you already know what I'm talking about, and if you haven't, please do. Finally, while I can't recommend A Sketchbook for Her Sun, I will be forever grateful to it for introducing me the Red Ribbon. I can't very well name an indie musician "Game of the Week," but it's been a Red Ribbon party in this house for several days already, and the party won't stop until somebody calls the cops.

Tears of the Wallet

The latest Nintendo infomercial was met with a mixed reception. Those who tune in for ultra-modern blockbusters from the biggest franchises were disappointed. (I guess I get that. As pumped as I am for a new Pikmin and a new Zelda, I'm already sold on both, so those trailers don't count, in some weird way.) As a fan of the kind of experimental, unmarketable B-games that have largely gone out of fashion in the last decade, this was a monumental advertisement. Samba de Amigo, Professor Layton, Fashion Dreamer (yes, this is a Style Savvy sequel), Ghost Trick, Fantasy Life, and the freaking GBC adaptation of Alone In the Dark: The New Nightmare??? I don't know why a multi-billion dollar put together a 45-minute commercial aimed specifically at me, but I'm not complaining.

I am complaining about the news that The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom will have a higher-than-expected MSRP. I rarely pay full price for games, but I've been scrimping and saving in anticipation of this one. Money is tight, and that extra $10 stinks. In more financially stable times, I paid $60 for Zelda's Wild Breath, though, and I felt like I got my money's worth. Then I paid, what was it? Another $20 for the mildly disappointing DLC? Remember the "Everyone is here!" trailer line for Super Smash Bros. Ultimate—the game that was called Ultimate because there's nowhere to go after you get everyone. I purchased the full DLC subscription, the contents of which were still unannounced, because you guys, everyone. And then they announced a second DLC pack, and dozens of costume microtransactions, and I said no, I have put enough money into this game. I Tears of the Kingdom is a bigger, better Breath of the Wild, I don't think charging a little more is unreasonable, just like I don't think it's unreasonable that LABO, Ring Fit Adventure, and Mario Kart: Home Circuit cost more than $60. Value and profit margin should be factors in pricing. (That goes the other way, too—more on that in this post's final topic.) If I'm paying a higher base price, though, I don't want to be asked for more money later. Go the the eShop and sort by price. Look how many games get away with charging $100 just because they tack "+ DLC bundle" to the end of their titles. It's sick, and we should be worried by anything and everything that conditions us to feel like maybe everything should be more expensive. No one is forcing big corporations (not just games; this is everywhere) to charge more for less. Video games are already too expensive for me, and I do not want them to get more expensive. I do not need them to get more expensive. Let games be small and freaky!

One, Two Remakes Stand Before You

Metroid Prime (Left) and Metroid Prime Remastered (Right). Official screenshots from Nintendo, hosted on ModyGames.

Metroid Prime is a masterpiece. This is not a unanimous opinion, but it's not a controversial statement, either. I don't know how many times I've replayed it, and it still fills me with the same sense of awe I felt twenty years ago. I've not played Metroid Prime Remastered, but by all accounts, it is even better. Some information about the remaster was leaked months ago, so its official announcement and release this week didn't come as a big surprise, and yet I was taken off guard by just how much work went into making it look modern. Now I'm looking back at Metroid Prime, a game that's always been beautiful in my eyes, and it's so...old. The remaster is priced at $40, which seems fair, given the apparent development effort behind it. (Super gross that Nintendo doesn't share my appreciation for hard work.) Fair, but more than I'm willing to spend on what is essentially a game I've already bought twice. (Hey, Metroid Prime Trilogy was only $20 on Wii U, and I didn't own Metroid Prime 2.) You know what I did buy this week?

WBSC eBASEBALL™: POWER PROS isn't a remake, per se. I can't point to one entry in the long-running Power Pros series and say, "See? They brought it back!" but that's only because they're all basically remakes. Although the series hasn't been a global concern for several console generation, Konami put out one or two of these every year in Japan from 1994-2016—not counting spin-offs, which came out at a comparable rate—before switching to an every-other-year schedule. They're all remakes. Clearly, releasing the same game over and over again with minor tweaks is a viable business strategy. Like, Konami has the game, and suckers are willing to buy it again each time they slap a new number on the title. It's the dream of every greedy publisher! And that's why I have to rave about the new Power Pros.

I don't care about baseball in the slightest. I've played an obscene amount of Bases Loaded on NES, and I'm always up for some Wii Sports baseball, but I can't think of one other baseball video game that's left any impression. WBSC eBASEBALL™: POWER PROS is no exception. It's more complicated and demanding than the cartoon characters imply, and attempting to manage a team's lineup makes my head spin. I'm not going to give up until I manage to get at least one run. Hopefully I'll get a feel for it and start having fun. For now, I stink, and I don't like it. Here's the thing, though: This game, the first Power Pros game released outside of Japan in years, the latest in a long-running line of shameless cash grabs costs...

$0.99

This isn't a sale. It's not an introductory price. And here's the part that sold me: It's the complete game. No DLC. When you've already produced a game, already sold it at a premium price, and already watched watched sales numbers plummet to zero/week, what do you, a game publisher, have left? What is the value of that intellectual property? What good are the code and the art assets when no one's buying? (Besides exploiting your fans with low-value junk?) You can sit on it, hording properties in the hopes that one day they can be rebooted, remastered, or resold in their original condition. You can sell the rights to other publishers. Forgo profits now to (possibly) profit later, or profit now and forgo the ability to (possibly) later. I never would have expected Konami to instead sell a game at an irresistibly low price, but it's absolutely the best move. So what if they only make a couple cents per sale? Low cost + high volume = cha-ching! And public goodwill. And a chance to reach people like me, who would never buy a new baseball game. How many new fans will pay full price for the next generation of Power Pro. Zelda sticker shock is getting headlines right now, and it should, but we should refocus the story, not on games getting more expensive, but on games being priced appropriately.

Let's also remember, this week, that some games are not appropriate for purchase at any price.

Friends don't let friends enable bigots.

#JakeReviewsTwitch is a series of daily game reviews. You can learn more here. You can also browse past reviews…

• By name • By rating • By genre

[luanna801]

Jack Seward Portrayals, Rated According to Strong Jaw and Good Forehead

Aka, a post that exists because I think it’s hilarious that the only physical description we get of Jack is “the lunatic-asylum man, with the strong jaw and the good forehead”, and, as Lucy has decreed that these are the only characteristics of his that matter, I will be rating his portrayals accordingly.

Please note that I have seen some of these adaptations and not others, and I definitely have Opinions about which I prefer, but that is not what this post is about! How much I like the adaptation overall, or even its portrayal of Jack Seward in terms of writing or acting, is not what we’re talking about here. These ratings will be SOLELY on the basis of Strong Jaw and Good Forehead, and as such I will be expecting to see full DCAU Superman jaw action, and... uhhhh...

... Look, I’ll be honest, I have no dang idea what a ““good forehead”” is supposed to look like. Or at least, I didn’t when I started writing this post. This was a journey, friends, and I hope you’ll join me on it.

1) Gustav Botz in Nosferatu (1922)

This is Off-Brand Discount Dracula because F.W. Murnau didn’t legally get the rights to the book, so Dr. Seward is called Professor Sievers here, but he’s still recognizably the same character and gets a couple of his iconic scenes with Renfield. What he does not get, sadly, is his strong jaw and good forehead. I think the scruffy hairstyle and beard aren’t helping, but this actor isn’t really bringing the jaw-and-forehead action regardless.

1/10, a very disappointing start to the list.

2) Herbert Bunston in Dracula (1931)

In this version, Seward is Mina’s dad (???) and thus considerably older than his book counterpart, but this doesn’t automatically disqualify him! Older gentlemen can have strong jaws and good foreheads, too! And honestly, I don’t think we’re doing too badly here. His forehead is certainly high, which... I guess is good? And his jaw is definitely decent. I can kind of imagine this being not too far from what book!Jack Seward would look like a few decades down the line.

6/10

3) Charles Lloyd-Pack in Horror of Dracula (1958)

This man has the furthest thing from a strong jaw I’ve ever seen, and he has Donald Trump’s hairstyle. ABSOLUTELY no to all of it.

0/10

4) James Maxwell in Dracula (1968)

James Maxwell!! I loved you as Henry VII in Shadow of the Tower!! I honestly think he’s a great casting choice, but that will NOT be biasing my rating here. And unfortunately, the feathered 70s bangs are keeping me from accurately assessing whether he has a Good Forehead(TM), and after careful consideration, I’ve decided that he leans more toward “pointy-chinned” than “strong-jawed”.

5/10

5) Mark Burns in Count Dracula (1977)

Okay! Now we’re getting closer! Decent jaw, good cheekbones (not technically part of what we’re rating, but feels relevant) and he has a nice square forehead. A good effort overall!

6/10

6) Donald Pleasence in Dracula (1979)

... Aaand, here we go again. You guys. You guys literally could not have gotten this more wrong if you tried, could you.

1/10

7) Richard E. Grant in Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992)

Okay, I have to admit, this guy has a GREAT forehead. Like, I literally couldn’t have told you what a “good forehead” is until I saw him, but now I understand everything. I get why Lucy would have felt the need to comment on it! Look at it! It’s IMMACULATE. If Francis Ford Coppola got nothing else right, we have to give him this.

His jawline is also fine, maybe a bit more oval-faced than what I’d typically think of as “strong jaw”, but I have to rate this one high purely for the forehead excellence.

9/10

8) Tom Burke in Dracula (2006)

I actually think he comes the closest to having a Strong Jaw of any of the actors we’ve looked at so far. His forehead, on the other hand, is kind of a milquetoast effort. In fairness, it’s all going to be downhill there after Richard E. Grant. If we could somehow combine them, would we have the perfect physical embodiment of Jack Seward?

(... That sounds like the kind of Mad Scientist-Curious question Jack Seward would ask himself and make readers raise their eyebrows for the next several centuries, honestly.)

7/10

9) Matthew Beard in Dracula (2020)

Okay, I have never seen this adaptation and never plan to, but purely in terms of looks? Dang. I’m impressed. This guy has a GREAT look for Jack Seward. Nice forehead, nice jaw, but I’m going to briefly break my own rule and note that I really like his look as a whole. The hair is great, the intense broody emo boy vibes, the sense that he might just be very sad or might be about to snap entirely at any moment? Chef’s kiss.

... Knowing what I do about this adaptation, there’s a decent chance I’d hate the actual writing if I ever saw it, but that just makes it good that I haven’t!

9/10