#this is so rough it literally took a couple of hours to write

[rainbowcarousels]

I didn't have anything for Vc Smutty Sunday ready, but I whipped up a little of Daniel's blood kink on the fly. Please enjoy.

Sometimes Daniel thought back to Louis saying that he didn’t really miss the daylight, that there were too many other things, and he thought perhaps he might have been onto something. 

Most days, Daniel didn’t awaken for long enough to get more than a glimpse of daylight before the sun set and he was whisked away for another night of exploration of whatever Armand was fixated on this week. It meant that on those strange days where he awoke before noon and struggled to get back to sleep, the day felt like it was an alien intruder. Something from a former life intruding on his current one, an ex he couldn’t get rid of and lingered on and on no matter how much he was determined to ignore them. Outside the window, the sounds of cabbies, kids shouting and the occasional clip clop of horses made even putting the blanket over his head useless.

In a moment of lost temper, Daniel kicked off the blankets and plodded off into the bathroom to take a leak.

Through sleep blurred eyes, the whole flat looked like a bomb had hit it and the bathroom was no exception. There was a crack on the sink and all too clearly, Daniel could remember lifting Armand up onto it so he could kiss him more easily. In his desperation to be closer, Daniel had pushed him hard into the basin to the point that he’d accidentally pushed the water taps on and soaked his pants with hot and cold water.

Daniel had been helpful in pulling them off with his teeth, leaving the faintest red on Armand’s skin that would be gone within the blink of an eye. Armand had watched him do it, helped manoeuvre himself to allow for it but only in the cold light of day did Daniel notice the crack on the basin where Armand had been gripping onto it.

Proof of existence, proof it had happened and Daniel wasn’t losing his mind and proof that Armand had been enjoying himself enough to lose just a little bit of control. The thrill of that squirmed it’s way through him like a slow electrocution, lighting up every nerve and making him feel as if there was sweat beginning to prickle at the memory.

The couch was an oversized, ornate piece paired with some coffee table Armand had seen in one of the thrift shops in Camden. Completely mismatched, yet looking perfect together – or at least they had. The table was now missing a leg, kicked somewhere in the heat of the passion that had overtaken them and the coffee mugs that once sat on it had leaked into the shaggy carpet. There were scratches down the fabric of the couch and he didn’t know who had made them, but the translucent stains were all him despite his attempts to wipe it away with his tongue the night before. 

There was a blooming pink on carpet from where he’d cut himself on a shard, his hands either side of Armand’s shoulders as he tried to push inside of him in a way that showed him how he felt, the enormity of it, the fierce way their love clung to his insides. The memory of Armand pulling the bloody hand into his mouth and making a noise – and it had to be a conscious choice to do so because he’d definitely drank him down before without a single whimper – that sent him thrusting desperately for completion, for union, to complete the circle of Armand’s tongue digging ruthlessly into the cut on his hand hit him full force. 

Arousal hit like a tsunami and it was fucking summer so Armand wouldn’t be up for half a day yet.

There was only one thing for it. Taking matters into his own hands, Daniel lay on the floor with his back against the soiled couch and stroked himself roughly. It wasn’t the same – his hands were too warm, he had nails that didn’t feel right and his fingers felt too big, but it was just going to have to do and he’d always had an active imagination. It helped that the memory of last night was vivid, Daniel leaning back to have something to hold onto and something stung. Not in a memory way – in a bringing him crashing to the present way. 

There must have been another shard from a cuo or glass under the couch because there was an angry red line across his palm, leaking blood. Daniel pujlled at the skin, watching as it opened and shut as he pulled it and the blood dripped down onto him. Daniel stole a taste of it, but it didn’t taste right: too metallic, too human. Something Armand liked but reminded Daniel too much of the smell from science classes on dissection days. Maybe he should go and get stitches, but it looked shallow – there was blood but it wasn’t pumping out of him, just a slow drip that slipped down onto his stomach.

The idea hit him unexpectedly and he remembered Armand’s noise as he’d licked his hand the night before. Slipping his hand over his cock, it took a few times to see the smeared redness cover it and then, mixed with pre-come and sweat, Daniel started to thrust his hand over himself. In his mind, it wasn’t his hand but Armand’s mouth, enjoying the taste of the blood as Daniel thrust his cock into his mouth, making that noise again, the desperate one, the little whimper that had left Daniel feeling helpless and fuck, that was it, that was it, he came over his hand, his stomach and the carpet at the idea of it.

Fuck,Daniel thought, looking around at the mess he’d contributed too with the giddy clarity of the post orgasmic haze. We’ve really made a mess. At this point, might just be better to move.

After they ruined it more during a reenactment, anyway.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not having time to read my mutual's writing?

Met a mutual on here, bonded through fanfic, have been tight with them for a few years with pretty much no bumps in the relationship, just overall had a really good time hanging around them when I could. We both write a lot and share our writing, and occasionally we talk about that writing/workshop it in passing.

In the past few years I've gone through a ton of life changes. Most notably I went from a multi-person household to a single-person one, and I've been living alone in a prohibitively costly city for a while now working 40 hour weeks and barely scraping by. As soon as the transition started I spent the last of my free income on a shitty little laptop so I could still write, putting down words on my bus/train commutes in the morning and quite literally writing on my breaks at work because I feel insane when I can't create. I bring this up to really stress that I don't have the time for the hobby, I force myself to make the time and even then it never feels like enough.

The only thing I can really stand to do with my 3 hours of free time at night is hang out with my moots online. I'm an extrovert so being around people recharges me. If I don't have designated social time I get super depressed and can pretty much feel my soul withering away. I also feel like I should probably mention that I kinda have a slew of mental issues, personality disorders and PTSD and AuDHD and the works. Point being, shit is rough my dude, but I am a person who likes to work hard and face challenges head on and even though we strugglin, we doing it with a positive outlook.

But! I am an incredibly solution-oriented person and I have found what I personally believe to be a good balance. No one should have to live like this, but I do, and I have found a way to be happy. My writing and my social time is all load-bearing. It is not something I just choose to do on a whim, it's all planned and scheduled and I adhere to those routines very strictly because, I cannot stress this enough, I will go fucking bonkers if I don't.

I'm mutuals with a lot of writers obv, and I sadly don't have time to read their work anymore, unless I get some extra time on my days off or something gets cancelled or like, I end up taking a vacation. I carry a great amount of guilt for this, though, even though I logically know it's reasonable. I try to support them where I can, cheer them on when I see them writing and tell them how cool their ideas sound, hype them up even when I can't actually read & review.

One of the things I do is sometimes I leave a kudos on fic I haven't read. I'm not trying to be ingenuine, and if they asked me I'd tell them like 'Oh I didn't read it yet, just wanted to show support!' but to me it's kinda like ripping a paper tab off a poster so that other's feel inclined to do the same. Plus my pals get a little email and a hit of serotonin.

Except one of my acquaintances, the one I mentioned at the start here, saw that I left kudos on a couple pieces another mutual of mine wrote this year. They more or less blew up my DMs with a ton of accusatory (like, literally presented like a 'GOTCHA!') stuff about how I was selective in who's fic I read, more or less implying that I secretly held some sort of grudge or negative feeling toward them and was making the conscious decision not to read or interact with their writing because of. Something, I don't actually know what they were trying to say. They also told me they vented to their friends about this MULTIPLE times, but they never once approached me to let me know they were feeling paranoid or neglected, they literally just took the most bad faith reading of it possible and then presented that to me like it was something I intentionally did, while the whole time I was unaware.

I tried to explain to them the kudos thing, that I didn't do it to every story, just ones I caught/noticed in my busy schedule. And I laid all this out and asked, multiple times, what free time am I supposed to read with? They didn't answer, and doubled down, kept trying to show me 'proof' that I was shorting them and no one else. Once they started to realize how wrong they were they backed down, but they didn't really apologize, or admit they were wrong, and they tried to end our relationship and left every single server we were in together. Because of some other unrelated stuff going on in my life, I didn't really consider them to be a close friend, but they were someone I really held dear and would've walked through hell for if they'd asked.

I still feel like there is something I'm missing here, and that's why I wanted to ask if I'm TA. I'm a pretty good communicator but one of the things I told myself when talking down my disordered thoughts (guilt about this prior) was "no one in their right mind would use reading fanfic as a metric for friendship." Now that I've had that exact thing happen, I'm starting to think maybe those thoughts weren't so disordered. Maybe this IS a big deal, and I should think about it more, but I don't even know what the solution to that would be. I just. Don't have time to read something lovingly crafted and appreciate it for what it is. All the hours in my week are used up, I'd have to lose sleep for this and with my mental health the way it is that is not an option.

Feel free to be a brutal, my skin is thick. Thanks!

What are these acronyms?

[mykmi]

not that busy

summary: doing homework together gone wrong genre: suggestive, drabble pairing: bf!student!beomgyu x gn!student!reader warnings: none ig ??? tell me if there are any; english isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes!! a/n: the beginning was the dream that i had a long time ago with beomgyu, so i felt the need to write it down :))))

“beom?”

you were writing your essay for english classes, sitting on beomgyu's bed with your laptop. looking up at your boyfriend, you pouted. he did not hear you as he was too focused on his philosophy homework.

you never really liked this subject because of how abstract it was, and professor never even checked the homework, therefore there was no point in doing it. but beomgyu seemed to be actually interested in philosophy and thought it was important to do tasks.

sometimes it even annoyed you how he was such a good student without trying that much. and to think that's the only subject you had together, you've wondered how good he was in other ones.

“okay..” beom was busy and you knew, when he's concentrated it's almost meaningless to try to get his attention. after a few minutes, when he clicked to close the windows on a computer and adjusted his glasses, you repeated:

“beom?” he turned to you, watching you with kinda sad eyes.

“sorry, you called me?”

“i just wanted to ask about the essay, but i already figured it out”

“sorryy, i told you it's a bad idea to do homework together” he laughed, crawling on a bed next to you.

“i know, i just wanted to spend some time together..” you pouted quietly. beomgyu layed his head on your shoulder as you were still typing.

“we still have time, pretty” he gently caressed the skin on your arm. “you're literally staying here for the night”

“yeah, i know” you kept on going back to the research page to not forget any details to mention. by a few minutes of you typing the body part of the essay, gyu left a couple of pecks on your shoulder, smiling slyly. after no reaction, another and longer one followed, this time on your neck.

“it tickles” you let out a small giggle, slipping away from yet another kiss. beomgyu caught your hand with a grin and pulled you right back to him, catching you off guard. you looked at him surprised as he lowered his gaze to your lips. he watched your face just inches away from his.

“i haven't finished my essay tho” you whispered, unsatisfied. gyu slightly rolled his eyes through glasses, still grinning at you.

“do you think it'll stop me?” and the next second he smashed his lips onto yours, taking your breath away quite literally. the vanilla scent of his shower gel, his glasses rubbing against your cheeks and the sensation of his plush, soft lips being so rough on yours gave you butterflies and some warm feeling a little lower your stomach. his one hand cupped your face, the other one placed itself on your waist. all of the information for an essay flew right out of your head because you couldn't think about anything else than beomgyu kissing you so good and messily.

“wait, let me-” you tried to push your boyfriend away so you could just put the laptop away from your legs. instead of stopping, gyu turned your face back to him, deepened the kiss, now using his tongue in your mouth as he slammed your laptop shut and carefully threw it far away on the bed.

beomgyu's lips tasted like the strawberry ice cream you ate an hour ago with him, and his fingers going down to the hem of your shorts, squeezing your thigh only made you whine a bit into his mouth. you could feel gyu smiling at the sounds you made because of him, making him super proud and all you could is to playfully slap his arm in return.

“you were busy all this time-” you sighed between the kisses, holding onto beomgyu's shoulders. he took his glasses off and threw them in the same direction as the laptop. “it's not fair”

“well now i'm busy with you” he laughed while his hands grabbed your ass, pulling you onto his lap. “isn't it what you wanted?”

[eloquentlytired]

hi!! could you pls write a fic of nomad!steve rogers x reader where they discuss that one day steve can surprise reader with sex while she’s sleeping? like completely consensual! and a couple nights later, reader is like on her side, her back facing him while she sleeps and he’s pulling her panties to the side and going to pound town 🫡

18+ mdni

sweet sleep

pairing: nomad!steve rogers x fem reader

word count: a lot ?!

warnings: (consensual) s0mno — choking — just tons of sex once again — fingering — wet wet wet

summary: it takes a while for you to open up about your biggest desire to steve but when he finds out what you want, he doesn't disappoint.

steve is observant and also knows you like the palm of his hand so it doesn't help your case when you always appear so nervous or cancel your words every time you talk about things you enjoy in bed. it's a sensitive topic for you, not because you've been rejected in the past, but it simply had never come up and you'd never had a deep connection with someone else before — not like the one you have with steve. he doesn't pressure you but he mentions it occasionally, “you know you can tell me anything. I'd never judge.” and then he presses a reassuring kiss on your lips.

it should be fine, you tell yourself, because steve and you are so so close that it feels foreign to hide a part of yourself from him. when you feel courageous enough to tell him your biggest desire, with your hands literally shaking, steve accepts it without any judgement and suggests something before you do. “you don't work this week,do you?” you shake your head and steve’s smile widens. when you realize why he's asking you this, you blush and wrap your arms around him as a silent thank you. steve plants a kiss on your forehead and before he walks away he's sure to whisper against your skin. “I guess I should tire you out till nightfall?”

you spend another day discussing the basics such as what he is allowed to do and what he isn't; and of course to guarantee a final confirmation that you're both ready to do this. “I just want you to use me.” something flickers within steve’s eyes but he says nothing, except he uses one of his hands to give your thigh a rough squeeze. you gasp but no words are exchanged after. all you find yourself doing is wait.

and you do wait because steve doesn't act immediately. two days pass then three and by the time you know it, it's thursday. your day had been full since steve insisted on waking up for an early hike, then breakfast and then hitting the beach. you returned home at a late hour and you were completely exhausted, only mastering some strength to hit the shower and change into your favourite pajamas. steve bid you goodnight with a gentle kiss on your lips and you were absolutely gone, sleeping soundly.

steve knew that you were a light sleeper so for this to work,he only had one option and that was indeed to tire you out like he'd done tonight. it was almost cute how confused and unsuspected you looked when he prepared so many activities for today — but your naive mind didn't figure it out. it worked wonders for steve's plans regardless.

he took his time showering after you had fallen asleep and went for his sleepwear. steve pulled on some gray sweatpants, completely disregarding the choice of underwear, and walked into your shared bedroom where you were sleeping peacefully. his little angel. you looked like you were having a good dream judging by your body language and the way you were nearly smiling. steve climbed on the bed behind you with your back facing him as you laid on your side. he scooted over carefully and his bare chest brushed against your back gently while his hand disappeared between your bodies. he grabbed the elastic band of your night shorts and pulled it down to your ankles, exposing the white panties underneath them. steve had to suck in his breath at how tight they looked against your cunt, expressing every outline of it against the fabric. it was almost see through too which left little to imagination.

steve’s fingers carefully traced your panties, pausing at the side of your body to pull them down as well and leave your pussy exposed to the cool temperature. it was good that you seemed unaware so far, still very much asleep and nuzzling against your pillow while steve undressed the lower half of you. with your cunt finally free of any confinements, steve moved slowly and used his hand to lift your leg slightly and push it forward so that your cunt was completely exposed to his eyes. two of his fingers slid against your folds like a teasing caress and steve noticed your body shuddering but whether it was from the cold or his actions he could not tell. he poked at your entrance experimentally but your reaction was faint. he had really managed to tire you out for tonight and by confirming this he became bolder and a little rougher.

“there we go.” he muttered to himself while sliding his finger down to his knuckle, stuffing your cunt with it. a whimper escaped your lips but you had still not awakened although your reactions to his touches were multiplying. steve began pumping his finger in and out of you and when he added a second one without waking you up still, his eagerness just kept growing.

he was knuckles deep inside your pussy and three of his fingers were currently being pumped into you, your walls swallowing them hungrily. there was a wet mess pooling in steve’s palm and he was laying there, observing your sleepy figure while your face formed countless expressions. at some point the back of your head was pressing against his shoulder as your mouth fell agape and small tears gathered in your eyelashes. the way you were whining in your sleep and with how your pebbled nipples brushed against your pajama shirt spoke many volumes about whatever you were dreaming.

steve eventually retracted his fingers from you but didn't bother wiping the juices that coated his entire palm. he shrugged off his sweatpants to his ankles and grabbed onto his own cock instead, pumping it to its full hardness and coating it with your wetness purposely. he guided the tip of his cock between your thighs then and offered an experimental grind of his hips, his body buzzing with excitement when his cock brushed against your wet folds. “shit.” he had done a good job prepping you surely and although the slide had been so smooth at first, your pussy entangled around his cock and suffocated it as you woke up with a startle.

your body jolted in both surprise and fear as you were absurdly woken up by something entering you. you could feel a pair of strong arms wrapping around you and holding you against a body so much larger than your own. when you registered what was really happening, your pussy clenched around steve’s cock and your mouth fell agape again. “steve—” both of you moaned at the same time when he began thrusting into you, pounding your cunt mercilessly to your waking point, and it was a surprise for the both of you at just how wet a situation like this had made you be. the sounds that emitted from steve fucking your weeping pussy were loud and extremely wet — and you couldn't recall a time when you were this turned on with another.

his arms surprised you by sliding underneath your armpits and his palms reached for your hair, pulling them on each side. in this current position you were completely under his mercy with his hips slamming against yours from behind and his strong arms forcing you into being just a helpless body. your hands could barely hold onto his elbows, scratching the skin there in response of his rough hair pulling. you cried out when steve slid his cock out of you and forced it back inside, stretching you into oblivion. “so soft,so pliant.” he rasped into your ear as you pressed your hips together, feeling yourself soaking around him even more because of his filthy words. steve fucked into you hard, his skin slapping against yours loudly. “so fucking unaware.” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as a particular thrust had your entire body trembling.

steve grinned and pulled you back by your hair just so he could see your fucked out expression similar to his own. it did something to him when you, usually so sweet and shy and quiet, had expressed your heavy interest in experiencing something like this. and his cock twitched with delight when his usually reserved angel acted so inappropriately just because he had been fucking her in her sleep. “stevie!” you mewled as he offered a particularly hard thrust straight to your sweet spot, your pussy tightening around him again. he could tell you're close ,he was too, but he didn't want to let go just yet.

a string of whines and gasps suddenly left your mouth as steve slid one of his hands between your thighs and reached for your clit, pinching the swollen bud between his digits. the arm that was once placed underneath your armpit had disappeared as steve moved it around your chest instead, squeezing it until his elbow was resting underneath your chin. your mouth formed a faint ‘o’ as steve picked up the pace and offered you overwhelming sensations. it was impossible to focus on one — be it the fat head of his cock assaulting your sensitive bulge of nerves, his thickness stretching out your hole, his hand on your clit or simply his entire arm wrapped around your throat and putting it into a literal headlock.

your fingers scratched against his bare arm weakly as he choked you, his lips brushing against the side of your head. “you wanted me to use you so I am.” he growled and one more pinch of your clit had you trembling against him, your orgasm washing over you like an endless steam. steve tightened his arm around your throat and you gasped for air, your mouth gaping as your voice refused to work. his hand didn't halt even after you came, his fingers caressing your oversensitive clit as he continued pumping his cock into you. he refused to cum — not fucking yet.

it was impossible to keep your eyes open and although he loosened the grip of his arm around your throat, the rest of his motions did not cease. the restless pounding of his hips against yours and his hand toying with your spent clit were amazing but nothing could’ve prepared you for whatever words he would speak next, as sleepiness drowned you.

“fall back asleep, sweetheart. i’m not stopping.” and then your eyes fell shut.

author’s note: HI DEAR ANON!! I hope this met ur expectations, I did my best. this was my first request so I'm rlly nervous. Thank you sm for trusting me with it 🩷🥹🌸 ILY ALL!!!

[gatitties]

Straw hats x speedy male reader during the marine ford arc where y/n literally ran out of his way in the ocean using all of his speed despite struggling through the rough waves manages to arrive just in time the middle of the war between the white beards and the admirals since obviously he just can't stand there and do nothing and since the place he got teleported to had nothing to offer and he had to find the others too (yeah sorry If I didn't add much on how it would go tho maybe we could have a moment where he crashes onto the ship so hard that the ship was literally shaking?)

I'm just gonna left this right here since I was suggesting an idea if you could write male reader where he awakened his speed devil fruit and now he has the ability to control the wind using his speed and being able to travel somewhere faraway using teleportation which takes a lot of speed and stamina to do it

(think of it as like a mixture between toothless in HTTYD2 and movie sonic during the baseball scene where they kept on running at full speed as the electricity begins to surround their bodies until they released it, creating a huge shockwave)

(this is something they forgot to put in the request)

—Strawhats x male!reader

—Summary: You seem to awaken some powers that you did not know and you try to help as much as possible but time plays against you

—Warnings: none

─ You separated from the Strawhats in Sabaody like everyone else, the thing was that you ended up on a completely remote island, only a few people lived there.

─ In your desperation to return to your companions you ate a devil fruit that according to the locals could 'teleport' you to other islands.

─ It took you at least a day to think about what you were going to do, and you thought that the villagers had tricked you because you didn't feel any power after devouring it.

─ It was maybe a few hours before the whole battle in Marineford broke out that you noticed some changes in your body, or rather on the outside, they all seemed to go in slow motion while you moved.

─ It was hard for you to come to the conclusion that the teleportation they were talking about was nothing more than supersonic speed, barely having been able to experience the use of powers and with complete inexperience you jumped fearlessly into the sea.

─ You thought you would die trying to run through the water, however when you noticed that your steps were lighter due to the speed you gained enough confidence to run more.

─ Nothing could stop your feet at this point, neither waves nor giant doors, although that was the problem, you didn't know how to stop your run so abruptly, you entered the battle overwhelming many soldiers without even wanting to.

─ You couldn't stop until you flipped a couple of times and crashed into a big ship, shaking the ground in such a way that some people staggered and fell.

─ Luffy was happy to find you there, although fate was already sealed, you tried to help as much as possible, but the exhaustion of getting to Marineford and the little experience with your powers were not the best help.

─ Events did not change and unfortunately neither Ace nor Whitebeard came out of that war alive, but at least you could be there with Luffy after all that.

─ As for the next two years, you dedicated yourself to honing your powers, improving your stamina, improving your speed, you used your 'teleportation' to visit others, although everyone wanted to keep their personal training a secret, you were their confidant.

─ Chopper was so scared to see you there, he gave you a revision and recommended activities so you don't wear yourself out with your new abilities.

─ Nami used you as a guinea pig to create air currents or move clouds.

─ You didn't visit Zoro much because Mihawk looked at you badly the times you went, he's just resentful because you accidentally knocked him down in Marineford.

─ Usopp was glad to share his little inventions and crops to someone, proud boy showing you everything he has improved.

─ Sanji will cry for you to take him to another island, but you just can't interfere with his training (it's a canon event).

─ Franky will ask you to bring him cola because there isn't much around there and Brook will give you a VIP pass to his concerts, he will also ask you to do some kind of show with your speed for his shows.

─ Robin will be glad to see that you're okay, surely she was the one who helped you the most to understand your powers and trained you with the revolutionaries, you needed to get stronger so that things like the Marineford incident doesn't happen again.

[drewharrisonwriter]

One Day at a Time - Ch. 4: Normal

Pairings: Dave York x Female Reader

Series Summary: A man washed ashore, with no memory, and no name, finds a home and a life in the middle of nowhere.

Author's Notes: This story has been sitting in my drafts for over a year, waiting for the perfect moment to see the light of day. It wasn't until recently that I found the inspiration to finally finish the last two chapters, thanks to the incredible Keri @absurdthirst. Her story, "Washed Up," struck a chord with me—it had such a similar plot and concept to what I had in mind, and it reignited my passion to bring this piece to life. Keri's writing has been a constant source of solace and inspiration, and I'm endlessly grateful for her creativity and the way she crafts stories that speak to the soul. If you haven’t checked out her work, you absolutely should!

Warnings: Please be aware that this story contains elements of violence, explicit sexual content, and pregnancy. Additionally, there are medical inaccuracies throughout—because I don’t work in the medical field, so please take it all with a grain of salt. Enjoy the ride, and thank you for reading! 😊

Read this on AO3 | Check out my Masterlist

The weeks had passed in a blur of routine and quiet moments shared between you and Dave. His migraines, though still present, had become more manageable with the medication the doctors had prescribed. Life on the farm had settled into a peaceful rhythm, and with each passing day, the bond between you deepened, the connection growing stronger with every shared experience.

One evening, as you sat across from each other at the kitchen table, the soft glow of the lamp casting a warm light over the room, you decided it was time to share some exciting news.

“I got an email today,” you began, your voice casual as you took a sip of your wine.

“Oh?” Dave looked up from his plate, curiosity piqued. “What’s it about?”

You couldn’t hide the smile that spread across your face. “I’ve been invited to speak at a convention in DC. It’s a big deal—a lot of people from the industry will be there.”

His eyes lit up with genuine excitement. “That’s amazing! When is it?”

“In a couple of weeks,” you replied, leaning back in your chair. “I was thinking… maybe we could make a trip out of it? You know, see the sights, visit the museums, take a little break from the farm.”

Dave nodded, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I like that idea. I’ve never been to DC, have I?”

You tilted your head, wondering aloud. “My guess is as good as yours,”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Beats me. But hey, if I haven’t, I guess it’s about time I checked it out.”

The two of you spent the rest of the evening making plans, mapping out the places you wanted to visit and the things you wanted to do. There was an air of excitement, a sense that this trip would be a new adventure—a chance to explore not just a new city, but perhaps something deeper between you.

–

The day of the trip finally arrived, and the two of you packed your bags and set off for D.C. The drive was long, but the hours flew by in a blur of easy conversation and laughter, the kind that had become second nature between you. 

The miles rolled by as you chatted about everything and nothing, which is pretty funny for the both of you considering he does not have memories of his past, yet he talks like he does. 

When you finally pulled into the city and checked into your hotel, the sun was beginning to set. The room was cozy, with a queen bed taking center stage, its crisp white sheets inviting after the long drive. As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, the air seemed to change—charged with the same electricity that had been simmering between you for weeks.

You both looked at the bed, then at each other. Dave smirked. “So… you think this one will hold up better than my bed back at home?” Referring to that moment a few weeks ago where you both were going at it so rough, that the bed literally collapsed. 

You laughed, shaking your head. “Let’s hope so. The last thing I want is for you to end up in the hospital again.” Referring this time to the first time you and Dave slept together. 

Dave raised an eyebrow, crossing the room toward you. “Are you saying I should be worried?”

“Maybe,” you teased, taking a step back as he closed the distance. “But if you’re up for the risk…”

“Always,” he replied with a grin, his hands finding your waist as he pulled you closer. “Besides, I love it when you get jealous when the nurses flirt with me…”

You scoffed at that, rolling your eyes playfully but kissed him anyway. 

“Hey…” He gasped, pulling away from the kiss “I’m yours…” He reassures you.

“Pretty sure?” you echoed, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah, very sure,” he conceded, his lips brushing against yours. “Let me show you…” He smirked. 

Your heart raced as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin.

“Only yours…,” he murmured before capturing your lips in a kiss, slow and teasing at first, his hands sliding up your back. The kiss deepened quickly, fueled by what felt like weeks of pent-up desire when it was only the hours-long drive that kept you both from being this close. Your fingers found the hem of his shirt, tugging it up over his head in one swift motion.

Dave grinned, his eyes dark with anticipation. “In a hurry, are we?”

“Just making up for lost time,” you quipped, your hands roaming over his chest as he pulled you closer, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“I like the way you think,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. His hands moved to your hips, sliding under your shirt, his fingers brushing against your skin. “You’re not the only one who’s been waiting hours for this.”

With a quick tug, he pulled your shirt over your head, his gaze raking over you with a mix of hunger and admiration. “God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, his hands trailing down your sides.

You felt a blush creep up your neck, but you met his eyes with a teasing smile. “Flattery will get you everywhere, you know.”

“Good,” he replied, his voice full of intent. “Because I plan on going everywhere.”

He guided you back onto the bed, his movements slow and deliberate as he settled over you. You wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, your hands tangling in his hair. The intensity of the moment made the world outside fade away, leaving just the two of you, wrapped up in each other.

“John…” you breathed his given name as his lips trailed down your neck, his hands skillfully unhooking your bra and discarding it without breaking the kiss, arching into his touch as his hands explored every inch of you.

His mouth found your nipple, teasing it with his tongue before he moved to the other, eliciting a soft moan from you. “You like that?” he asked, his voice full of warmth.

“I think you know the answer to that,” you managed to reply, your breath hitching as his hand slipped between your legs, his fingers brushing against the damp fabric of your underwear.

“Let’s find out for sure,” he whispered, sliding your panties down and tossing them aside. His fingers found your core, his touch gentle but purposeful, sending shivers down your spine.

“God, you’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire as he teased your entrance, his eyes locked on yours. “You’ve been wanting this as much as I have.” He murmurs as he inserts two of his fingers inside you.

Dave’s fingers curled upwards and moved slowly, deliberately, finding that spot inside you that always made you gasp. As he curled his fingers just right, his thumb began to rub circles on your clit, adding a new layer of sensation that made you cry out, your body arching off the bed.

"Right there?" he whispered, his voice rough with need, his breath hot against your ear.

Your response was a breathless moan, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Yes… please… don’t stop…”

He added a third finger, stretching you further, and you gasped, your back lifting as the pressure inside you built higher and higher. "God, yeah…just like that…”

His fingers moved faster, his thumb pressing harder against your clit. “Come on,” he coaxed, his voice low and encouraging. “I want to feel you come for me. Give it to me… let me feel you.”

Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as the pleasure spiraled out of control. “I’m… I’m so close…” you whimpered, your hips rocking against his hand, desperate for release.

“Come for me, darlin’,” he murmured, his fingers thrusting deeper, curling just right. “I want to feel you…”

And then you did, your climax crashing over you like a wave, your body convulsing around his fingers. You cried out his name, your hands fisting in the sheets, your muscles clamping down hard on his hand as he continued to work you through it, drawing out every last bit of pleasure.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his tone both commanding and full of adoration. 

When the last tremors subsided, he slowly withdrew his fingers, watching your face closely. His thumb rubbed one last circle over your clit, making you shiver and gasp again. “God, you’re amazing,” he said softly, bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting you. “So damn sweet.”

You smiled, still breathless, but with a teasing glint in your eye. “I think you’ve had enough fun for now…”

He chuckled, lowering his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. “Not even close,” he murmured against your mouth, positioning himself at your entrance. “I’m just getting started.”

He pushed in slowly, filling you inch by inch, his eyes never leaving yours. You gasped as he stretched you, the feeling almost overwhelming after the intensity of your release. “God, fuck…” you breathed, your hands gripping his arms.

He groaned, his forehead resting against yours as he began to move, his thrusts deep and slow, your hand moving up to cup his head, threading your fingers through his hair. “You feel so good… so perfect,” he whispered, each word a ragged breath.

You moaned, your hips meeting his, and he picked up the pace, his rhythm steady and deliberate. "You like that?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

“Yes,” you gasped. “More… please, don’t stop…”

He grinned, gripping your hips tighter, lifting your bottom half off the bed slightly, changing the angle. The new position allowed him to drive deeper, each thrust hitting that spot that made your vision blur with pleasure. “How’s that, darlin’?” he asked, his voice rough with desire.

“Oh, God… yes!” you cried, your nails digging into his back as he set a relentless pace, the sound of your bodies moving together filling the room. “Just like that… don’t stop…”

He felt you tightening around him, your body trembling with the approach of another climax. His grip on your hips tightened, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard you knew it would leave bruises, but the slight pain only added to the pleasure. “Come for me again,” he demanded, his thrusts becoming harder, faster. “I want to feel you come all over me… then milk me dry…”

Your breath hitched, and with a few more thrusts, you were falling again, your body shaking as another orgasm tore through you. You cried out his given name, your muscles clenching around him, squeezing him so tightly he almost lost control.

He groaned, feeling you convulse around him, and he pushed deeper, harder, lifting your hips higher to angle even further into you. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he gasped, his voice hoarse. “I can’t… I’m so close…”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. “Come for me,” you whispered, your voice shaking. “Fill me up… I want to feel all of you…”

That was all it took. With a low, guttural moan, he drove into you one last time, his body stiffening as he came, emptying himself deep inside you. His hips jerked with every pulse, his fingers still gripping your hips like a lifeline.

He stayed buried inside you, panting, his head resting on your shoulder. “Fuck…” he breathed. “That was… incredible…”

You nodded, your body still tingling from the aftershocks. “I couldn’t agree more…”

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

You smiled, running your fingers through his hair. “You’re not so bad yourself…”

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his expression softening. “I mean it,” he said, his voice serious. “I don’t ever want to be without you.”

You pulled him down for another kiss, feeling his heart hammering against your chest. You didn’t say anything knowing that he’s not yours to keep, instead, you kissed him again. 

He grinned, his hands caressing your sides as he held you close. “I’m yours,” he murmured, and you felt his body relax into yours, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

–

Over the next few days, you and Dave played tourists, taking in the sights and sounds of the nation’s capital. You visited the National Mall, wandering through the museums that lined its expanse. The Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History captivated both of you, with its towering dinosaur skeletons and dazzling gemstone exhibits. Dave seemed particularly fascinated by the Air and Space Museum, spending hours admiring the aircraft and spacecraft on display.

“Can you imagine being up there?” Dave mused as you stood beneath the massive Space Shuttle, his eyes wide with wonder.

You smiled, slipping your hand into his. “I think you’d make a great astronaut. You’ve got the calm under pressure thing down.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Maybe in another life.”

Each day brought new experiences, and with them, a growing sense of ease and contentment. The city was vibrant, and full of energy, and you found yourself enjoying every moment with Dave by your side. Whether you were strolling through the U.S. Botanic Garden, admiring the lush greenery, or standing in awe of the Lincoln Memorial at dusk, there was a sense of connection that made the trip feel special.

Next Chapter 👉🏻

[mrs-dr-reid]

New Beginnings

(A Matthew Gray Gubler Fic)

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader gets set up on a blind date after being newly single for 8 months, and it goes better than she anticipated.

Genre: V fluffy

Warnings: None, I believe

A/N: Ayyyyy, my first MGG Fic! This fic is HEAVILY inspired by the song “Begin Again” by Taylor Swift because duh. Who am I if I'm not writing something inspired by Taylor? Hope you enjoy! (also, thanks to my discord friend Ozzie for reminding me of/sending me Gube's "what I look for in a woman" open letter thing)

Word Count: 1615

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Y/N was surrounded by a heap of discarded clothes on her bedroom floor as she tried to decide what to wear on the blind date her friend Y/F/N set her up on. She’d been single for eight months in the aftermath of a rough breakup, but she was finally ready to start trying to get herself back out there. However, she had to admit that meeting up with a complete stranger she’d only ever heard about through stories from Y/F/N wasn’t precisely how she’d planned on doing so. Y/N had been rifling through her closet for the past hour, and she just couldn’t decide what to wear. Eventually, she settled on a black skater skirt, a white short-sleeve blouse, her favorite brown crossbody purse, and a pair of simple dark red pumps.

Y/N had stood in front of her shoe organizer for a solid minute trying to hype herself up to go for the heels because she couldn’t help but remember that her ex never wanted her to wear them because whenever she did, she was taller than him (by barely an inch, but still) and he didn’t like that. She decided to bite the bullet and just put them on, because she liked wearing high heels, and it didn’t matter what her ex thought anymore. Y/N gave a satisfied sigh when she looked at herself in the mirror, then grabbed her keys and got ready to go. She locked up her apartment, then got into her car and turned on her music. “How To Save A Life” by The Fray began to play, and she almost skipped it out of instinct, because her ex always said he didn’t understand it every time it came on.

Y/N said to herself, “Don’t you waste another thought on that jerk, Y/N. This is a fresh start. You’ve got this,” then turned up the volume on her stereo and sang along to every song her ex hated with pride. She pulled into a parking space close enough to the café she was meeting her date that it wouldn’t feel like a workout, but far enough that she could hype herself up and work up her confidence. Y/N honestly wasn't in the mood to be going on a blind date, but it’s literally impossible for her to say no to Y/F/N. All she knew about the guy was that his name was Matthew, he was an actor, and he had met Y/F/N when she was catering a movie he was working on because Y/F/N had refused to tell her anything else for fear of Y/N chickening out (which was reasonable).

Y/N watched a handful of couples and groups of friends walking around as she approached the café, and she smiled to herself before taking a deep breath, pushing the door open, and going inside. She was half expecting her date to be late because that seemed like her luck, but to her surprise, he was standing there waiting for her. As Y/N walked over to him, she couldn’t help but notice that he was way more handsome in person. Y/F/N had shown her pictures of him at parties with her and their other friends, but they didn’t do him justice. He had messy short brown hair that suited his face shape really well, he was slightly stubbly but it looked good on him, and he was wearing a purple checkered button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, blue jeans, and black Converse All-Stars with mismatched socks, which immediately made him 5 times more endearing.

Matthew noticed Y/N approaching him, and he shot her a heart-stopping smile before saying, “Hi, you must be Y/N. I’m Matthew,” and holding out a hand to shake, so Y/N took it and said, “Yep, that’s me. Y/F/N’s told me a lot about you. All good things, I promise,” with a smile on her face. Matthew let out a playful sigh of relief and said, “Thank god. She has so much dirt on me that she could spill,” with a wink, which made Y/N let out an uncharacteristic giggle while she thought: “Y/F/N was right. This guy might be different”.

Matthew gestured to the seating area and said, “Shall we?”, so Y/N said, “We shall,” and followed him to a table by the window. He pulled out Y/N’s chair for her and helped her sit down, which momentarily threw her for a loop because her ex never did that once in the entire two years they were together. Y/N thanked him, and he smiled before saying, “Hey, a guy’s gotta treat a lady with respect,” and sitting down across from her. The two of them started making lighthearted banter, and Y/N couldn’t help but notice how amazing his laugh was. Whenever she told a joke, he would squeeze his eyes shut so tightly that wrinkles would form, and he’d throw his head back with laughter like he was a little boy. She was a little confused at first because her ex never thought she was funny, and Matthew clearly did, which made her feel good for the first time in a while.

They ordered coffee and a light lunch, then they continued talking. Matthew said, “I’ve honestly never met a single girl who had as many poetry books as me,” so Y/N replied, “What can I say? Edgar Allan Poe is my homeboy,” which made him laugh again before he said, “Okay, but I would totally buy a t-shirt that says that,” earning a smile from Y/N. She said, “I know a guy who has a silkscreen print shop, so I’ll have to get you in touch with him,” and took a sip of her coffee, which made Matthew grin and say, “I’ll be sure to hold you to that,” before shooting her a wink and going back to his food.

Y/N couldn’t help but blush into her mug, and she really hoped her shyness wasn’t too obvious because she’d barely spent an hour with Matthew and she could already see herself going out with him again. She couldn’t help but compare him to her ex in her brain, but only because he was so different from him. He was a gentleman, he laughed at her jokes, and the first thing he did when they sat down was compliment her outfit (which her ex only did to keep up appearances if they were out with a big group of mutual friends).

The date went on without any hitches, which Y/N was grateful for. Matthew even picked up the tab despite her protestations, and he said, “You’ll just have to get the next one, then,” which made her go pink in the cheeks at the implication that he was also already thinking about a second date. He offered to walk her to her car, and she eagerly accepted, not wanting the date to end just yet. Matthew held the door open for her, and then they walked down the block to where her car was parked, easy conversation flowing between them like they’d known each other for years instead of only two and a half hours.

Despite all of the positive feelings she was having about Matthew, she still felt the annoying urge to bring up her ex, but then he started rambling about how Muppet Christmas Carol was one of the best Christmas films of all time, which instantly snapped her back to reality as she countered with Die Hard (mostly because she wanted to see what his reaction was). A playful debate about what movies MUST be watched every Christmas season was sparked, and for the first time in a long time, Y/N knew that what was past was past.

They ended up at her car much sooner than Y/N would have hoped, and she was almost disappointed, but then Matthew said, “I hope this isn’t too forward of me, but I had a really great time today, and I was wondering if I could get your number?”, while scratching the back of his neck and holding out his phone with a hopeful smile on his face, and relief flooded Y/N’s body. She nodded enthusiastically and said, “Yeah, of course!”, before taking his phone and texting herself a simple “hey it’s matthew” so she’d know. She saved his number in her phone, then grabbed her keys out of her purse to unlock her car before turning to Matthew and saying, “Text me later?”, which made a grin spread across his face. 

He said, “Yeah. Absolutely,” and Y/N swore he went a little pink in the cheeks when she impulsively pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before saying, “Hope I see you again soon, Matthew,” and getting into her car. He stood there dumbstruck for a few seconds, then motioned for her to roll her window down so he could say, “I hope I see you, too, Y/N,” and do a dorky little bow.

Y/N giggled as she rolled her window back up and drove away, and as she watched him get smaller and smaller in her rear-view mirror, she realized that after spending eight months thinking all love did was crash, burn, and end, she just watched it begin again in a random café in downtown LA on an ordinary Wednesday afternoon. And also that she owed Y/F/N her first-born child for setting her up with the kookiest yet most endearing guy she’d ever met.

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MGG Taglist: @homoose

Let me know in the comments if you want to be added

[sadquickchristmassnowman]

Please please please post your Jeff Winger analysis that you wrote for your college class

fine. here it is.

for those of you that don't know, this my final paper for my abnormal psychology class I took last spring (at a community college lmao, I have since graduated and am now in university studying something completely different.) the instructions were to play therapist and write a case study on one of your hypothetical clients. we were supposed to make up a person and diagnose them with something. naturally, instead of making someone up, I chose a sitcom character to dive into. I somehow got 100%. read if you so desire, it's about 1600 words.

A COUPLE (sad) QUICK (christmas) DISCLAIMERS

I wrote this in literally an hour! it's Very Rough! that's not me being humble! that is an objective fact! please just accept right now that the grammar and syntax are sloppy as hell that's just How It Is

I changed Jeff's name to something stupid, I don’t even know what it was, just so I’d have less chance of being caught lmao

I stretched some canonical truths and made some shit up that doesn't necessarily apply to Jeff. I did this because the paper was due at 11:59 and I needed to make a compelling argument quickly. so I somewhat warped Jeff to be what I needed for the paper. it's still mostly canon compliant but just beware and don't come after me for any inaccuracies okay I did it on purpose

[seth-shitposts]

a thing that would not leave my mind halfway through my shift.

so I am disclaim right now that I really have no intention on doing something with this, it's just a cool concept that I didn't want to throw away, but... wmsjxhd whatever anyways here you go Kallus and Ezra AU- (aka Defectors AU??)

This is going to be a long post because it's going to he literally everything we were thinking about. So if you're ever wondering what your waiter is thinking about as they are serving you, know that this is a possibility.

If yall have any questions or comments, don't be shy. (I just don't *plan* on touching this because I have so many WIPs and other fics I am now working on. I love what I've gotten in the inbox! I greatly appreciate yall and 100% look forward to them!!!!!) 

Anyways. It took so much longer to record my thoughts than i thought it would so I wasn't able to get much of my actual writing done.

Word Count: 4k+

Tw for this one:  Violence , injustice , genocide , heinous crimes of the empire , vomit mention , mention of separation , non canon-typical of rebels

So the premise of this AU is essential a if Kallus had been assigned to the job of taking in the Bridgers and found the small child. 

What I specifically pictured was that Kallus would be talking the situation over with his superiors. He suggests that they place the kid into one of Lothal's orphanages, or one on a planet nearby. Find him a foster caretaker. One of his superiors suggests instead they enlist him. 

And Kallus goes "????I'm pretty sure this child hasn't even reached the age of 9, what do you mean you want to throw him into an academy?" As Kallus’s own academy experience had been brutal, but he had been 19 or 20 upon entering. The thought of putting a child that hasn't even hit double digits yet into such training, even if at a lesser form, is so beyond him. 

Another superior suggests maybe just bringing him in with his parents. And Kallus’s response is immediate "absolutely not." Because where the Bridgers are going is a rehabilitation center for rebels who have committed crimes against the Empire. A chance for them to learn better and find a place in the empire. They're worse than the academy. 

"Then what do you suggest? Dropping him back in the streets?" 

"I'll take him under my care. I'll teach him everything I know." Kallus says it before he can think about his answer. The foster suggestion had been shot down. He was not going to allow a seven year old child to be dropped into a military academy, a rebel prison, or thrown into the streets. 

The superior that had suggested throwing the kid into the rehab snorts. "You? Oh this is going to be good." 

His other superior shakes his head. "Agent Kallus. You're about to get promoted to the next rank. You won't get that if you do this." 

Kallus nods his head. This isn't something he has to think twice about. "I've already stated that I have no intention of accepting a promotion." 

And so it began. 

Agent Kallus was given custody of the child from Lothal. The first couple of weeks were… rough. The child missed his parents. Nothing Kallus did or said could comfort him except for offering to take him to visit them. The tiny little smile that the kid gave Kallus, the shiest tug at his sleeve, asking him if it were a promise… Kallus could only respond with yes. 

But he did not want to have his only visitations to his parents be of them in prison uniforms, so after hours of negotiating it with his higher ups and with the rehab facility itself, he was allowed to meet with them one on one, set a negotiation with the Bridgers and make arrangements for them to see their son, how they would want to. 

Kallus had expected them to be belligerent with him, or curse him for taking Ezra away or forsake him because they're under a misguided opinion of the empire. But they're very cooperative. Eager. 

Kallus explains to them that part of the agreement his supervisors gave him in allowing this visitation is that they have to put effort into their rehabilitation. 

Mira Bridger chews on the inside of her cheeks for a moment as Ephraim Bridger inhales deeply. The two share a look and nod. They tell him that they accept the terms, but Kallus has to be willing to hear them out. 

The two have been nothing less than compliant and cooperative to him thus far, so he is willing to extend the same courtesy to them. 

Ephraim Bridger explains that there are some people in the rehab that have done nothing wrong other than be in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that they did not have the resources for a proper defense case, and now they are facing years of confinement for it. Mira asks Kallus to see what he can do for those individuals. 

Kallus hesitates. He thinks about how willing one of his superiors was to throw Ezra in here, as just a child. And he knows that some of his colleagues don't always have the best judgment. "I… will look into it. Get the prison to send me their case files and I'll work it into my schedule." 

Ephraim nods, thanking him for his help. 

Mira speaks up, "and one more condition. Please." 

Kallus rubs his neck, he's going to have a lot of extra work for this. But, if it makes a difference. "Yes?" 

Mira Bridger reaches for his other hand, holding him gently in a way that shocks him. "Please make sure Ezra doesn't change. He's so bright, he deserves to keep that light." 

Kallus swallows the lump in his throat as he nods. He sees where Ezra gets it from. "I'll make him my priority." 

So thus, Kallus took Ezra under his wing. Ezra was allowed regular visits to his parents, under the condition they put forth effort and in return Kallus looks into the cases given to him. Kallus can't believe just the sheer amount of oversights that were made. Ones that would have long and permanent effects on these people's lives. He was able to help with most of the cases. Get the innocent bystanders out. Over time it extended over into people who were there because they were pressed into a corner. Honestly, there's nothing they could have done. These weren't rebels. It frustrates Kallus to no end, but the Bridgers seemed pleased- more than pleased for what he has done to help. Kallus is conflicted about Mira and Ephraim. They're good people. They just have a misunderstanding about the empire. It was people like the Bridgers who inspired him into joining the academy, so he could help others. It isn't difficult for Kallus to find balance between this extracurricular, his ISB work, and raising Ezra. 

And raising Ezra. The kid will bring any animal or creature he finds back to Kallus and tell him all about how they met. Kallus just smiles as he listens intently, pausing his data work to do so. The kid honestly is very bright, he shines like a beacon, a sight for sore eyes. Kallus forgot what it felt like to have someone to look forward to seeing. It reminds him of friends he used to know. Vaguely of that feeling he used to have back in coruscant of knowing that he'll see the stars, with certainty. Honestly, he had forgotten what that was like. 

 Kallus was given a flat on Garel, with frequent visits to Lothal, and will take Ezra with him anytime he has to travel. The only time the two are apart is when Kallus has an assignment, or when Kallus feels that Ezra would be in danger by being with him. Mira and Ephraim had told Kallus about a family friend, Tseebo. He stays with Ezra during the times Kallus can't or won't bring the kid with him. 

Ezra also… expresses much distaste for his colleagues. And how Ezra explains it, the kid isn't wrong. But it's simply just how things work in the empire. The kid pouts and stomps about how some of the officers were harassing merchants again. Kallus files a report on it and follows up on every little story the kid tells him. His colleagues truly are an annoyance. Honestly, they have bigger things to worry about. 

Ezra attaches to Kallus’s hip, but more often, his sleeve. And Kallus feels a warmth of endearment wash over him anytime Ezra laughs or pulls a prank or tells him a story or tugs in him. Kallus teaches Ezra some of the skills he learned back in the lower levels of Coruscant. Of course, when Kallus learned them, it was for survival. When he teaches them to Ezra, it's to help him get away with pulling pranks on his coworkers who are still harassing civilians. Since the superiors haven't been taking Kallus’s reports seriously, why not teach the kid how to get away with pickpocketing, effectively use disguises, escaping from a pursuit, and infiltration? Pride swells in Kallus’s chest every time his coworkers complain about a "loth rat who won't stop causing problems for them, but keeps getting away". Some of the skills Kallus teaches Ezra are the same ones he used to take top of his class rank at the academy. The only thing that Kallus takes more pride in than having watched those upper crusts fume over being beat by a sewer rat is watching Ezra take what Kallus teaches him and does better. His little star has a natural talent. 

(And Kallus's heart softens from the way that Mira and Ephraim absolutely beam from the stories he and Ezra tell them. Kallus is still trying to figure out how to get the Bridgers out. They should be let out for "good behavior" soon. He’s been pulling every string he can to see through to it. He's simply fixing mistakes the empire made. Honest mistakes. Right?) 

_____

As Ezra becomes a few years older, his superiors try to press Kallus to put him in an academy, but Kallus says that he will see through to the boy's training himself. And he does. However, for assessments, Kallus does have to bring him to the academy on occasion. Kallus doesn't agree with it, but he is ordered that to prove that Kallus is competent enough to train Bridger by himself while still doing his ISB work and his sudden interest in HR extracurriculars, the assessments have to be done at Coruscant's Royal Academy. Kallus trains Ezra accordingly, but is far more gentle and encouraging than his own trainers had been. Ezra is eager to do well, to be the best to prove that Kallus has done well to teach him. That if they moved Ezra anywhere else, it would be a mistake. 

The first few assessments… well. Ezra does great, amazing, infact. And Kallus makes sure to tell him. But some of the children of high ranking officers feel upstaged by Ezra. And make it very loud and clear that they think Ezra cheated. Kallus defends Ezra, and takes the heat of the situation. 

Later Ezra apologies and tries to ask what he did wrong. 

"Star, don't ever apologize to me for anything. You did what you were taught and you were great." Kallus gives Ezra a smirk as he ruffles his hair, trying to make him feel better. "That's just how they act here. I'm the one who should apologize, in my haste to teach you how to be the best, I forgot to teach you to hide your cards. Don't let them see the full extent of your skills. If they can't find weaknesses, they will make them. So make them think they can find weaknesses. Keep an ace up your sleeve while you count the cards." 

Ezra doesn't fully understand why the other cadets act like that, but Kallus always makes things make sense, even if they don't. 

Ezra follows Kallus’s instructions and does well in his assessments without putting a target on his own back. Kallus tells Ezra not to use his street skills, but the skills taught by the academy. Yes, they are lack luster with not much practicality or room for field adaption, but it's what's be best for now. 

Once Ezra’s final assessment is completed, the two are allowed to return back to Garel. They have another visit before Kallus has to prepare for some major assignment. Something about riots breaking out all over a planet called Lasan. The thought of going to that place leaves more than a bitter taste in his mouth, but he has a duty to fulfill. It's probably just going to be making a few public arrests and enforcing a harsher set of codes that the Lasat will eventually adhere to.

Kallus is hesitant to leave Ezra on his own, but Kallus doesn't want him anywhere near this planet. Riots are violent and he doesn't want the kid to get caught in the crossfire. Or worse. 

During the visit with the Bridgers, Kallus is pulled out by the rehab warden. He is informed that his request to lessen the sentence has been vetoed. 

"Rejected? Why? They're good and honest people. I've seen their progress reports, warden. They've been cooperative. They haven't caused any trouble. They want what's best for others." 

The warden glares at the agent. "Anytime they're allowed to interact with other prisoners, things around here get thrown into disarray. They keep encouraging unruly behavior. They're lucky that you're the only reason why I haven't split them up and placed them into solitary confinement. If they insight another riot, they will be sent to a maximum level camp with no more little family reunions." 

Kallus feels his blood boil. "Maximum Facility? Have you lost your mind? Those two are non-aggressive! They've complied to your every demand-" 

The warden slams his fist on the table. "Agent, your welcome is about to be overstayed. Those two breed rebellion behavior everywhere they go! I'm half convinced they're doing it to you!" 

Kallus shuts his mouth at that. The Bridgers haven't done anything wrong. On fact everything they've done has to been to help other people and to ensure a bright future for Ezra. "How dare you insinuate that I bring about disorder? I've been working my arse off for almost five years to fix the mistakes colleagues of ours have made that got innocent civilians thrown into rehabs, prisons, and slave labor camps." 

The warden narrows his eyes. "Watch what you say, Kallus. You're talking dangerously similar to a rebel. Don't say something you'll regret. If you aren't careful, you could get them executed for bribing and corrupting an ISB Agent, and yourself for treason." 

The warden doesn't even have to say the next part for Kallus to understand. And the boy will be left all alone in this place. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Kallus registers that he hears a metallic thud, but he can’t process anything other than the sound of his own pounding chest.

The warden sighs, letting go of his tension. "Kallus, you're overworking yourself. You need to get some sleep. I understand that you have an incredibly large assignment in a few days. Please don't worry yourself with the Bridgers. I know that you're simply doing your best to establish a stronger sense of order. Sleep on it. We'll chat more next week." 

And with that, the warden dismisses Kallus to continue supervising the Bridger Visitation. When Kallus returns to the room, Ezra is noticeably quieter. His energy… dampened. And Kallus is much the same. The Mira and Ephraim notice and ask, but Kallus shakes his head. But he does say, "I need you to promise me, just for the next few days, to keep your heads down." He whispers so Ezra doesn't overhear. He hadn't told then that he's been trying to get them out. He was fully under the impression that he would, but didn't want to disappoint them in the case that he couldn't. "For every favour I've ever done, please promise me, just for the next few days." 

Mira and Ephraim don't say a word, but they give him a nod. 

Once they return to Garel, Ezra lightly knocks on Kallus’s door. Kallus opens the door with a switch, and the kid looked like he had been crying. Kallus feels a pull at his heart. This is his last night before his mission. "Nightmares woke you?" 

Ezra looks away from Kallus's eyes, not giving a response for a moment. Finally, he nods. Something about it is off, but that's not the most important thing right now. 

"Want to talk about it?" 

The kid shakes his head. 

"Do you want to sleep with me tonight?" 

It takes less than a few seconds for the kid to be crawling in next to him. It wasn't uncommon for them to share a bed, especially when Ezra was upset or simply couldn't stand being separated from Kallus. And Kallus deeply wishes that he had maybe tried harder to get Mira and Ephraim out before having to leave. But there's no time to dwell on what he cannot change. 

He focuses on gently papping away the tears on the kid's face, his cold hand softly sweeping over the hot trails before he starts to brush the hair from Ezra’s face. 

Kallus smiles softly. The unruly hair goes against so many regulations. But, Kallus would rather choke than make Ezra cut it or allow the officers to do so. 

As Kallus sings a lothal lullaby Mira and Ephraim taught him, Ezra inches in as close as he can to Kallus, trying to fight the sleep that's trying to overtake him. 

Kallus has never had any siblings. He never even had the chance to think about wanting them. But the way that Ezra's small fist clenches his sleeve, as if to hold him here… 

It breaks his heart that he has to leave Ezra in the morning. The kid never takes their separations well. So he indulged in him, probably a bit too much, making sure that they didn't happen too often or for too long. It makes him endlessly grateful to Tseebo, to know that he won't be alone. 

____

This is wrong… 

Kallus stands in the middle of a large Lasan village. The disruptor heavy in his hands. He's refused to activate it. This is cruel and barbaric. At first, he had been confused when the instruments were being handed out. He hadn't received any information about the lasat having any type of advanced fleet. So why… 

Kallus  feels sick. 

He had volunteered to be part of the first wave, so he could secretly push ahead to warn as many civilians- civilians, they were attacking civilians- to escape as possible. But… they didn't have many ships. Definitely not enough. 

He used the item in his hand as a defense staff, and deflection only. 

This isn't what was supposed to happen. This is barbaric. No one deserves this. 

Kallus pushes the thought away as he orders his men to push to an area that he saw with mainly warriors, not civilians. He pushes onward, being stopped by an honor Guardsman. Kallus isn't able to back out of the fight, and he refuses to let himself be killed. 

So he's just going to fight until the other runs out of stamina. It feels like hours that he’s in this one on one. The other doesn't give up. 

That's when the star destroyer starts dropping bombs from above, not caring that there are civilians or their own troops down here. One of the bombs causes a pillar to crumble at its base. Kallus is able to move in time to push both the guardsman and himself out of its path. The guardsman recovers from his shock quickly,  trying to sweep one of Kallus’s ankles out from under him, but Kallus deflects the attack and knocks the weapon from his hands. 

What happens next never leaves Kallus. The guardsman stops fighting him and retrieves the staff- the bo-rifle he heard it called- and hands it to Kallus. He doesn't understand. Kallus looks up to the other, and holds out the disruptor to him. The Lasat just glares at the weapon and knocks it out of his hand before running off to fight another officer with his bare hands before Kallus can stop him. Kallus watches as he is immediately hit with the charge of a disruptor. 

Kallus is in a daze as chest rattling screams are let out all over the planet before there's complete silence. 

They're all gone…

This… wasn't to settle rioters. This wasn't even to make an example. 

Who would the example of been for? There's no one else left. Few Lasat would have survived. If any did at all.

And he couldn't do a single thing to stop it. Or even slow it. 

Kallus looks up to Lasan's sun. 

It all happened in less than an hour. 

This was an ambush. 

This was a massacre. 

Kallus doubles over as his body purges the contents of his stomach. 

_____

No one had really paid attention to what Kallus did or didn't do. 

The entire way back, he kept getting fucking congratulated. They were fucking celebrating this like it was some grand victory over a rising rebellion. They think he took the bo-rifle as a trophy for the conquest of Lasan. 

He'll let them believe that. He'll play along with this. Because he's going to burn this house from the inside. 

But first… 

Kallus makes sure to clean up before his return to Garel. The smell of ash and smoke… it makes him nauseated all over again. 

Upon returning to the flat, Kallus sees tseebo out before seeking Ezra. 

Kallus isn't in the flat for much longer than a few seconds before he gets a full-body tackle from the small twelve year old boy. And Kallus returns the hug with the same amount of force. 

"Ezra," Kallus hates what has to be done, but he will not allow the Empire to have any direct contact to him. "I was wrong. I've been wrong for years." Tseebo will look after him. Anything has to be better than the Empire. 

Ezra pulls back slightly to let Kallus kneel to his level. "Alex, what do you mean?" 

Kallus had left all his equipment, even his uniform, back on base. "Your parents were right. The Empire is not what I thought it was."

"Alex, what happened?" 

Kallus shakes his head. "The Empire happened." Kallus is not about to go into detail about what he himself can barely handle. "Ezra, there's something I have to do. And do it, I need to get you to Lothal. And…" Kallus swallows a knot in his throat. "I can't go with you." 

Kallus has to spend several hours consoling and explaining what he can to Ezra without telling him too much. 

"I must remain here. I'll get in contact with people who can help. I'll get your parents out, I'll do my best. Tseebo should still be on Lothal. There'll also be Sumar. But I need you to promise me something." 

Ezra wipes away the last of his tears, Kallus’s cold hands cooling his face as he helps. "Anything." 

"I need you to promise me that you won't tell anyone about me. That when we meet again, if I am still in the Empire, you'll pretend not to know me. Evade the empire using the skills I taught you." 

Ezra goes silent for a moment as he tugs on Kallus’s sleeve. "I promise… but you have to promise that you'll come back. You always come back." 

Kallus can't hold back the smile that the kid pulls from him. "As long as you shine the way you do? Star, I'll always find my way back to you. Your parents will too." A frown seeps in for a moment. "Ezra, I'm sorry that I have to leave you." 

There's a tug at his sleeve. "Don't ever apologize to me about anything." 

______

**notes: 

-Kallus staged that he and Ezra got separated from each other on Garel. As predicted, his missing person reports to the empire went ignored. 

-Immediately after ensuring that Ezra made his way to Lothal safely, Kallus discovered that in the 3 days he was gone, Mira and Ephraim had gotten harassed by some of the guards and led an escape attempt, in which many were able to escape, but they got moved to another facility that he is not allowed access to and to make matters worse, a week later he discovers that Tseebo volunteered for a highly experimental program.

-in this au, Kallus is much more reserved during the first couple of seasons. The entire time he works as a Fulcrum agent. He takes on the task of The Ghost Rebel Cell and intentionally fails to keep any of them from getting caught, as best he can without blowing his own cover. 

-Ezra doesn't tell the Crew about Kallus until they find out. He was very conflicted about finally seeing Kallus for the first time in a few years, and having to act like they were strangers. And then having to not say a word of his old brotherly figure to his new family. 

-after having gone so long without hearing from Kallus, of Tseebo having been MIA, and of still having had no word of his parents, he came to same/similar assumptions as in canon. With Kallus, Ezra holds fear of him getting caught, of Kallus maybe having changed his mind and decided not to leave the empire. Or maybe even that he had forgotten about him entirely.

[bluezey]

Bathtime and Chill

Wade relaxes with a long soak in the bathtub.

Just wanted to do a fluff one.  Writing smut is fun, and I do like writing smut, ngl.  (And I keep the smut on A03). But relationships aren’t all about sex, and Ember and Wade are a great romantic couple.  I also wanted to show off some headcanons of mine that Wade loves to soak in long baths, and Ember likes to smoke.

Wade closed the apartment door behind him.  He leaned his back against the door, closed his eyes and sighed.  He slouched down so much his legs gave way into a puddle on the floor.

It’s been a rough week at work, but being a city inspector isn’t easy.  He hasn’t done anything incredulously wrong such as get washed into drain pipes or accidentally cause a cement explosion that encased half a dozen construction workers in concrete.  But seeing people react to getting citations is stressful enough on his emotional heart.  The responses for tickets are usually people angrily shouting curse words or verbal threats at him, or just crying about how they can’t pay the fines for one reason or another.  Wade wishes there was something he could do, but not every fine or ticket can be pled away to his supervisor.  At least that’s what his supervisor says, and this new one is more hot headed than Gale.  But what else can he do?  It’s his job, and he wants to keep this one, and provide for his and Ember’s lives in the city.

At least tomorrow is his day off, and he knows the perfect way to relax his overworked nerves.  Besides a good cry, of course.

Wade made a beeline straight into the hall bathroom and to the bathtub.  It was a big bathtub, big enough for two people to soak in it with room to spare.  Though Wade uses it, Ember unfortunately can’t bathe, as she is a fire person.  Ember mentioned something about how fire people don’t need to bathe as they usually burn off whatever dirt they have on their body.  Water people like Wade do something similar: they filter any debris out of their system.  While they don’t need to bathe, a good shower or bath can speed up the filtration process.  Also, bathing is a great pastime for water people.

Especially for Wade.  He finds it so relaxing that he could spend hours just soaking in the tub.

Wade almost has it down to a science.  He starts by running the bathwater, not too hot, not too cold, just perfectly warm.  He turns on the smart speakers to play some music he likes:  usually something soothing such as rainfall or classic piano, basically some white noise involving calm music or the sound of water, or both.  As the bath begins to gradually fill, he begins to prep the water with bubbles, soaps, oils and such.  By the end of it all, the tub is basically a soothing smelling concoction full of bubbles and water.

With everything prepped, Wade took off his shirt and hung it neatly on the back of the door.  Then, he dimmed the bathroom lights til he could barely see through the ambience.  He then stood by the tub and started by gently placing one foot into the water, as if he was testing it to see if it’s perfect.  It usually is perfect, but sometimes a little more bubbles or oil couldn’t hurt.  He then slowly steps into the tub, then sits into the water.  He usually fills the tub up to his chest, that’s as deep as they go without overflowing.  Overflowing is not a big issue in a water apartment, but it kinda is when he’s sharing an apartment with a fire woman.

Wade leaned back and took a big sigh of relief as he closed his eyes and laid in the tub.  By this point he literally sinks into the water.  Literally literally.  He literally loses his humanoid form and his water becomes one with the bath water.  Wade closed his eyes and took deep breaths, feeling his chest fill with air with every inhale, and his water mingle with the bath from the chest down.  He listens to the music, smells the sweet scent of oils, and feels the occasional tickling tingle of the bubbles.

After a while Wade gradually sinks lower into the tub, each time becoming more and more relaxed, and more and more at one with the bubbly soapy water.  Before long just his shoulders are above the water surface, then his head, then his whole body is submerged.  At this point, his body is barely a set of eyes floating under the layer of bubbles, as his whole body has become the bath water.  Even he can’t tell where the bath ends and his water begins.  And it’s one of the most relaxing feelings he’s ever experienced in this elemental world.

Time passes before he barely hears the sound of the bathroom door opening, though he can feel the hall light pour into the dim room.  He opened his eyes, stinging a bit as he tried to peer through the layer of bubbles floating on the surface.  He can barely make out the silhouette of Ember as she entered the bathroom and turned up the lights.

Wade reforms from the shoulders up as he rises from the water.  He squints his eyes from the bright light, but blinks them open as they adjust.  He could then make out Ember amusingly catching the sight of Wade soaking in the tub.  “Did I interrupt your me time?” she asked.

“Not really.  Maybe a little,” Wade admitted.  He then caught sight of a cigarette pursed between Ember’s fiery lips.  “Uh, Em?” he asked, pointing to his lips.

“Hm? Oh.  Sorry,” Ember plucked the cigarette from her lips and dashed it out into the sink like it was an ashtray.  She remembered that Wade wasn’t a fan of her habit, but forgot that she still had a lit cigarette in her mouth as she entered the apartment from the balcony.  The balcony is the only place they decided she could smoke.

“I’m still surprised that your parents never caught you smoking,” Wade commented, remembering how Ember admitted that Bernie and Cinder didn’t like their daughter smoking cigarettes either.

“They kinda did.  They did find a pack on my nightstand once,” Ember admitted as she sat on a metal stool in the bathroom.  She then turned on a small dehumidifier to remove some of the humidity in the room, so the air was more tolerable for her.  “I usually smoked when they were asleep.  Didn’t have to worry about hiding the scent of smoke when everything in the building is burning.”

“Hey,” Wade exclaimed a bit as he caught Ember trying to remove the humidity from the room.  Of course he knows Ember is more comfortable in a dry environment, but he just got the air in here perfect without the need of his oil diffuser.

“Oh, sorry.  Hold on.”  Ember left the room for a moment.  She returned with two wine glasses and two bottles of alcohol.  One was a bubbly wine cooler for Wade, and one was a hot cider for her.  After pouring a glass for her and a glass for Wade, she dimmed the lights and closed the bathroom door.  Now the room was mainly lit by the light of Ember’s body.  “Does that make up for it?” she asked.

Wade took a moment to watch as Ember’s light reflected off the bath water and Wade’s water, painting the walls with the golden rippling hues dancing gracefully on the walls.  “So much better.  I love when your fire does that.”

“I know what my water guy likes.”  Ember clinked her glass against Wade’s and they both took a sip of their drinks.  She watched as Wade sank back into the tub until he was shoulders deep.

“Of course, it’s funny,” Ember thought aloud before taking another sip of her hot cider. “Some of our fire traditions do include smoking a hookah.”

Shocked and curious, Wade sat up from the bath until he was chest high above the water.  Ember had to lean back a little to avoid getting splashed.  “Your parents let you smoke one of those?”

“Yeah, but only on some of our very traditional fire holidays,” Ember commented.  “Hey, I have it in the bedroom closet somewhere.  You wanna try it?”

“No thanks,” Wade replied, laying back down in the tub.

“Okay, but I’m breaking it out next month for a traditional smoke,” she told Wade.  “You’re still welcome to try.”

“Would that be bad taste for a water guy to participate in a fire holiday?” Wade asked.  “Like, some cultural appropriation thing?”

“Hm, I dunno,” Ember thought aloud.  “I don’t see a problem with it, but I wouldn’t want to offend my culture.”

“I wouldn’t want to offend your culture either,” Wade added.

Ember shrugged.  “I’ll ask my parents, next time I call them.”

Wade sighed and watched the golden ripples of Ember’ light dance across the ceiling.  He sank back deep enough into the tub that he disappeared under the bubbles again.  “I’m so glad you joined me,” Wade thought aloud as he felt his water become a part of the bath again.  “Sometimes, when I’m enjoying a good soak, I wish you could join me, somehow.”

“I just felt like checking in on you.”  Ember leaned over carefully and gently blew some of her hot breath on the bubbles, causing them to pop.  She then caught sight of her reflection in the exposed water surface, before seeing two eyes and a smile emerge and look right up at her.  The two shared a laugh, with Wade’s laugh causing the bath water to ripple, and cause the golden ripples on the walls to dance even vibrantly.

Ember leaned back in her metal stool, took another sip of her cider then grinned.  “Hey, though I can’t join you in the tub, it’s still kinda fun hanging out with you.”  She swirled the drink in her glass a little as she thought aloud, “Maybe next time, if you want company during one of your soaks, you let me know.”

Wade smiled big, a happy tear or two leaked from his eyes and into the bath water.  “Yeah, of course.”  He then added, “but you still can’t smoke in the apartment.”

Ember rolled her eyes, “Fine.”  She glanced back over at Wade and asked, “Can I play some music I like then?”

Wade nodded, or what appeared like nodding.  “That’s fair.”

Ember asked the smart speakers to play fireside jazz.  The speakers were now playing the sounds of a crackling fireplace and smooth jazz.  Ember poured another glass of hot cider, leaned back, enjoyed the music, and watched as Wade closed his eyes and basically disappeared into the bubble bath.

Once realizing that Wade fell asleep in the bath, Ember silently cracked open the bathroom door, lit a cigarette, took a deep inhale, and blew the cigarette smoke out the door and into the hallway.

[spidermans-l-o-v-e-r]

Engagement for Two

Yo today was ROUGH like I was going THROUGH it but it was super funny so I’m chill

Pairing: Timothèe Chalamet x reader

Word count: Oh my god I ACTUALLY have the word count this time ⭐️3,318⭐️

Notes: Literally I don’t know where the need to write came from but zoo wee mama I did it Ps. I was looking through gifs of him and oOoOooOh my good he’s cute p.ps I HAVE TO EDIT THE WHOLE THING I ACCENTED THE WRONG E

⭐️Day 20: Oral sex⭐️

It wasn’t often the entire family was together, but after your sister had announced her engagement to her boyfriend Harry your mother threw together the best party she possibly could for her.

Harry arrived early the day of the party bringing five or six friends in tow to help set the place up. It was going to be at your parents house which had more than enough room for everything.

Harry was holding the ladder for you when another man walked over, his curly brown hair bouncing with every step. He stopped next to the ladder and leaned against it.

“Hey Harry, Molly needs you to go help in the kitchen real quick.”

“Oh- uh okay I guess? Hey Y/N I gotta go help Mols, will you be okay up there?”

You looked down at him, stopping putting up some balloons.

“I mean I should be? I’ve been on the ladder before…” You wearily looked at the rest of the wall you had to set up

“I can watch out for her!” Mr bouncy hair smiled and took Harry’s spot “Go on, don’t worry about us.”

You didn’t miss the look Harry gave him as he walked away. The man turned around to you and smiled, reaching up to hand you some more balloons.

“I’m Timothèe, Timmy for short. Mr. Chalamet if you want to be fancy” he winked and you rolled your eyes playfully, taking the balloons from him.

“I’m Mollys younger sister Y/N. Thanks for coming to help out”

“Oh I know who you are.” He said as he watched you tying balloons to the posts. “Molly talks about you”

You paused for a moment before you reached for another bundle

“All good things, all good things” He reassures you with frozen and you snort, reaching down for more. He smiles at you, his eyes shining brightly as he looks at you. He seems big on eye contact. Your cheeks feel flush as you grab the next bundle and you know he made sure you felt his fingers brush over yours.

You spend the next couple of hours setting up the party, and “Timmy” doesn’t leave you alone for more than a couple minutes to get whatever you ask of him or do something your mom wants. He does however talk your ear off. About anything and everything he’s got a story for it, you’re laughing about the time he and Harry got locked out of their apartment naked after a dare gone wrong when your sister walks over.

“Y/N! This is looking great!” She claps her hands together excitedly as she comes to stand next to you and Timmy. He’s got his hands on your hips, steadying you on a wheeled chair as you finish putting up a banner your mom made.

“And this is actually really dangerous are you almost done?” His voice is playful and light but you can hear the slight hesitancy in his tone. He’s definitely holding onto you tighter than he should be.

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, I’m perfectly fine up here” you turn in the chair to face him and he almost has a heart attack

“Okay nope you’re done no. Let me finish it.” He physically picks you up off the chair and sets you down on the floor, your mouth drops as he puts you to the side and gets on the chair real quick, putting the banner up and hopping down.

“All done!”

You stood next to Timmy, drink in hand. After your little chair debacle it was time to start actually getting ready. People were gonna be showing up soon. You leave Timothèe with Molly, who pulls him away whispering excitedly and go upstairs to your mom’s room where she has your dress all steamed and ready for you. You could have done it on your own honestly but she practically begged to do it. Ironing and steaming helps her calm down she claimed and you shrugged handing it over that morning. That probably explained why all the napkins and tablecloths were pressed so cleanly.

You looked in the mirror, and smoothed it out a bit. The green tulle compliments your dark skin nicely, the boning inside giving you a snatched waist. You do a little spin watching as it flows around you. There’s a knock at the door and your sister walks in

“Who you dressed for??” She puts her hands on her hips as she looks you over

“You literally bought me this dress for this specific party!”

“I know but I didn’t think I picked one that good damn girl! I have talent.” She fluffs the straps on your shoulders a bit and then turns to the mirror herself, checking over her white dress with puffy sleeves.

“So Harry and I already talked about the wedding party… obviously you’re my maid of honor. But Timotheè is his best man, so I really think you should get to know him y’all are gonna be spending a lot of time together.”

“If it’ll make you happy sure. He seems pretty interesting anyway and nice enough I guess”

“How nice?” She raises an eyebrow at you and you shove her towards the door while rolling your eyes.

“I swear to god if you start that-“

“I’m just saying! You leave the room together coming downstairs for the party “he’s really freaking cute okay” she whispers in your ear as she goes ahead of you. Harry is standing at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes are wide as he looks at your sister. They’re full of love and adoration and it makes your heart melt a bit. He reaches out for her and she wraps her arms around his neck putting her forehead against his.

You smile softly at them as you’re stopped in your tracks. Timmy is leaning against the banister, staring up at you. Your cheeks feel flush as he offers his hand, helping you down. He whistles and makes you do a little twirl for him.

“I swear you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever laid eyes on Y/N I’m gonna have to stay glued to your side to fight off the guys with a stick.”

You laugh as he grips your hand a bit tighter “Oh you think I’m joking? Mols tell your sister I’m serious. I’ll protect her.”

Molly and Harry give each other a look before she turns in his arms, he holds her by her waist.

“He’s way serious Y/N” Molly smirks as the four of you enter the party. Timmy puts his arm around your waist pulling you into him as your father makes a toast. Your heart begins to beat a bit faster as you all raise your glasses, cheering for the soon to be wed.

You talk with guests for a while, it’s a lot of people to handle at once. You have to introduce Timmy to all of them and he has absolutely no problem laying on the charm. He does however keep you by his side, he moves with you as if you were a couple yourselves. After introducing him to what seemed like the millionth person he takes your hand, leading you over to the bar and ordering you a nice frozen fruity cocktail. You’re really surprised he got your order right. Molly really had been talking about you… or more like informing.

“You know this is a really nice house.” He says as he sips his drink, watching the party around him.

“Thanks, lived here all my life.” You joke as you lean against the bar

“I’d like to see more of it… if you don’t mind. Your mother seemed very adamant I ask you to show me around.”

You rolled your eyes as you looked over at her. It was your sisters engagement party of course she’d want to try and pair you off as well

“How could I say no when she was offering such a pretty girl as my guide?” Your cheeks felt flush as you set your drink down on the bar.

“Come on I guess”

He grinned excitedly as he followed after you. Your parents really did have a beautiful house. It was large, your parents had worked their asses off to make sure you all had a good life. And it was a good life, there were ups and downs and the usual generational traumas… but they’d done the best with what they’d had and it turned out pretty okay in the end. Not to mention having four kids wasn’t easy in the least.

“My parents bought this house when houses didn’t cost six spleens and a lung.” You say as you lead him through the many rooms. A game room, a sitting room your mother’s sacred sewing room.

“What’s upstairs?” He smirks, backing up the stairs to the second floor.

“Bedrooms?” You answer suspiciously.

“Your bedroom? I’d love to see it! Let me guess which one it is!” He races up the stairs and you run after him.

“Timmy you can’t just-“ you get to the top of the stairs and he’s already gone. You groan when you notice your bedroom door is open. Of course he managed to find it that fast.

He’s standing in the middle of your room, his mouth wide open. It’s a bright two toned pink room. With large windows and a little bay seat. Your bookcases are floor to ceiling on one wall and your gaming corner is set up on the other. Lots of little trinkets and posters adorn the walls and a large mirror hands beside your closet doors.

Timothèe sits on your bed. “C’mere” he pats the soft pink blankets next to him and you raise a brow, coming to sit next to him.

“You know you have great taste?” He smiles as he lays back on your blankets. You look down at him as he nods, gesturing you to do the same. You lay back, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Thanks, I’ve been working on it for a while…” you look at the sparkly canopy over your bed, little stars trapped in the drapes.

“I bet those glow in the dark.” He nods at the stars and you get a bit excited.

“Actually- wait you have to see this!”

You get up and walk around, shutting all of your blackout curtains making sure they’re secure.

“Can you get the light?” You ask as you finish up the last one and he gets up from your bed, stepping around a fluffy pink ottoman and shuts them off.

Your room automatically starts glowing. The ceiling lights up with painted on glow in the dark stars, his mouth drops open as he looks over at your bed and the stars wrapped up in the drapes do in fact glow.

“Oh this is cool” he laughs as he spins around taking in everything “Even your shades glow??” He points to the blackout curtains behind you also covered in glow in the dark fabric paint.

You walk over to the bed and get back on it, holding out your hand.

“But wait! There’s more!” You laugh as he takes it, you pull him down and he looks up, the Milky Way is across your ceiling. You can only see it laying down in your bed. His mouth drops as he reaches up to it

“How did you do that”

“I saved up for months and commissioned a local artist I knew could do it”

“Helping small businesses too? Could you be anymore perfect?” He laughs to himself “I think Harry might have picked the wrong sister” he mumbles quietly as he stares at the ceiling.

You both lay there for a bit, just looking at the stars. You feel his pinky run over your fingers for a minute before he grabs your hand. You look over to him and he smiles, kissing your nose.

“You know your sister talks about you a lot?”

“Yeah you mentioned that earlier.” It’s like he’s constantly seeing into your soul whenever he looks at you. Eyes may be the window to the soul but apparently he just walks right in like they’re a couple of open doors.

He sits up. “Yeah… I know a lot about you I guess. Which okay that sounds a little Murdery ” you both laugh “but I just… I can’t get you out of my head. This doesn’t feel like the first time we’ve met you know?”

“Yeah I think I know…” you say quietly, sitting up next to him, your legs curled up.

“I uh-“ he laughs awkwardly. “I’ve been into you since your sister first showed me a picture of you.”

“Oh really? I couldn’t possibly tell” you laugh and he blushes, looking away from you.

“You think maybe you could give it a chance to like me…?”

Timmy leans over and kisses your cheek sweetly. You blush lightly, turning your head and giving him a real kiss. His eyes widen a bit and he kisses you back, putting his hand on your cheek he deepens the kiss and closes his eyes. He gently rubs your cheek with the pad of his thumb, you nip at his bottom lip and he opens his mouth for you, your tongues weaving together. He moans hotly and pushes you down onto the bed, pulling you against him.

“Yeah I think I can give you a chance”

You wrap your arms around his neck and he pulls you closer into him, groaning as you begin to run your hands down his chest, toying with the buttons on his shirt.

“Y/N” he asks breathlessly as he pulls away for a second. “C-can we… can I do something?”

Your cheeks heat up and you nod, his hands slide their way up your thigh and under your dress. He looks at you as he starts to pull at your panties.

“Can I taste you? Y/N?… I’ve dreamt about it and I just need to try and satisfy this craving I have for you…” His eyes pierce through you once again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips… lips that are so pink and pouty… and it had been a long while since you’d gotten that kind of attention.

You lift your hips and wiggle out of your panties, letting them drop to the side of your bed. You nod up at him and he looks ready to devour you. He kisses you almost aggressively and pulls away leaving you winded in the best way possible. He goes to the end of the bed and lifts your dress up, bunching it around your waist. He looks to you watching your eyes nervously dart to the partially open window.

“Why are you so nervous?” He chuckles as he reaches up, gently intertwining his fingers with yours. He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb and smiles. He’s staring into your eyes, he’s seated between your legs with your pretty cunt right in his face and he’s staring into your eyes.

“How about the fact that my entire family is just outside that window?”

“Y/N we’re on the second floor. They’re down and a little to the left actually.”

You hit his head with your thigh and he throws his head back laughing

“Relax sweet girl, they won’t hear you okay? If you get too loud I’ll tell you.” He lays his head on your thigh, dragging his thumb over your wet juicy lips causing your hips to buck up. He holds your hips down and smiles lazily.

“So fucking eager”

He lays properly between your thighs now, putting them over his shoulders carefully. He licks his lips slowly and his eyes light up, a burning fire in them.

“Hold on tight spider monkey”

You throw your head back, ugly laughing as you grab a handful of his hair and pull him closer to your clit

“Just shut up and fucking eat me Timothèe”

He laughs through his nose as he kisses your lips, making out with your soaked cunt. Your jaw drops slowly as you lay your head back. He pulls you closer burying his tongue deep inside you, letting out a deep moan as your juices flow over his tongue. He slurps messily as his tongue rolls around your clit sucking on it softly

“Fuck you taste as good as you look. God I knew you would the moment I saw you.” He lifts you higher by your hips and pulls you closer, licking a long stripe up your folds. You pull at his hair, your legs shaking as you moan, high pitched and breathy. He gives your leg a bit of a whack and you jump.

“Shhhh baby” he whispers against your heated cunt as he kisses it his eyes rolling in the back of his head. He closes his eyes for a minute almost like he’s savoring you as he dips his head back in, his nose against your clit while his tongue works you over. You tug at his hair as he drags his fingers through your juices, he pulls them away and you watch his fingers drip. He smirks up at you as he slides them inside you, they slip in embarrassingly easy and he begins to pump his fingers slowly in and out in time with the licks and light flicks of his tongue to your clit. He uses the tip of his tongue to toy with you, pressing down on your clit causing you to buck your hips against his mouth. He chuckles as you begin to fuck his face, grinding yourself against it and using him to get off. He moans lowly as his fingers start to go faster, your eyes widen as you see his hips grinding into the bed underneath him. His slutty little waist pushing down into the blankets as he tries to get whatever friction he can.

“I wanna see how pretty you look when you cum” he pants as he makes out with your pussy, your juices starting to drip down his chin as that coil inside you winds tighter and tighter. “Please Y/N? God-fuck please let me see you cum for me.”

Who knew Timmy could be such a good beggar? And he wasn’t even trying

Your legs pull together and he holds them back a bit as you cum, your back arches and you grind against his face as he fingers you faster. You cry out his name, your eyes shut tightly, tears sliding down your cheeks from having to fight to be quiet. Your body falls limp, your eyes blinking open softly just in time to watch Timothèe come undone on your sheets, he cums in his pants as he grinds roughly against the bed his head still buried in between your legs. You feel him panting against your fluttering cunt as he calms down. He weakly lays his head on your thigh and looks up at you.

“I’ll clean that up, I promise.”

You giggle as he drags his tired body up the bed and plops next to you, wrapping his arms around you and snuggling into your neck.

“You think they’d notice if we took a nap?”

“I think our phones have gone off at least seven times each and people are wondering where we are.” You smile and look at him, your hands lying over his.

“It’s fine Harry can handle things. I told him if we happened to wander off he needed to cover for us.”

“Timothèe Chalamet did you plan this?”

“Are you joking? I literally told you I’ve been into you since the very first time your sister showed us a picture of you. I’ve been flirting nonstop and glued to your side for the last 12 to 15 hours. Of course I planned this!”

[folliesandfolderols]

Writing prompts day 76

From this prompt list. If you’ve read this far, I’m not sure you need any explanation, but the short version is I hadn’t written any fiction since 2019, I set a goal to write at least 150 words/day in 2024, and this list was my way to restart. Also I abruptly decided on day 2 I would write an entire Tim/Damian story connecting all the prompts, because I am Good at Judging My Limits. /sarcasm Anyway, I finished the rough draft a while ago and am now unlocking the old entries as I edit.

Read from the beginning here, or on ao3 here.

Days 71-75 here

***

147. "Fuck, you have such a tight hold on me, you don't even know."

***

Tim pulled out every shred of his acting training and then some to get through the next hour. Damian woke up again after a 20-minute nap, made a face over having to put on the same clothes he'd worn the night before, and then kissed Tim goodbye before leaving.

On the cheek.

He didn't seem to notice anything wrong, for which Tim was grateful. Because he knew he didn't have the right to feel literally anything about Damian having slept with Jon. (There was no other real possibility for a partner, of course.) He especially didn't have the right to be outraged that Damian had allowed Jon to fuck him while saying he didn't want Tim to do the same. It wasn't as if he belonged to Tim. It wasn't as if they'd had a conversation about exclusivity. It wasn't as if Tim had even known he wanted Damian to choose only him, before he'd seen those bruises and instantly realized what had happened.

It wasn't as if Damian getting fucked by Jon took something away from Tim.

But goddamn, it felt like a violation.

Fortunately, he had work of the overt and covert varieties to keep him occupied. Everyone at the office had stopped giving him concerned looks, which was good—at least he wasn't completely losing his shit—and he was able to focus on his previously neglected projects. It was amazing what not experiencing constant emotional pain could do for a person's motivation, even with the throbbing in his ankle to replace it.

Unfortunately, he also remembered his previously developed (and since neglected) facial recognition program algorithm and couldn't stop himself from calling up the results of weeks of searching for Damian's face during the time period Tim had been avoiding him.

Damian was good. Very good. In the same time span most people would have been captured hundreds if not thousands of times by cameras. Tim found only a couple dozen matches for Damian, and two of those were false positives. That wasn't surprising, although Tim found himself smiling with involuntary pride when he reviewed the statistics.

On the other hand, it became immediately apparent that, far from spending his time rotating between several different partners, Damian had mainly focused on one. Oh, sure, there had been a few weeks when he and Nika had appeared to be spending a significant amount of time together, but they had come to an abrupt end with no further contact. But Jon was the real problem.

Tim watched, then rewatched the video feeds. Scraps of time, each of them, mere seconds in Damian's life before he got them to a more secure location, but Jon had never seen much point in subtlety when it came to Damian. In those few clips there was way more open attachment between them than Tim would've ever wanted to see.

So stop looking, dumbass, he told himself.

Instead, he played them again. Damian's eyes were so soft when he looked at Jon. He was far too wary with Tim to be the same when they were together.

Because Tim had trained him to be.

Tim swallowed against the complicated mass of hurt, fury, self-recrimination, and longing tying his throat into a knot. This was why it was stupid to want things. It was too distracting. And what if in the end you didn't get them? Stupid.

He needed to quit looking.

He pushed play again.

***

Tim was grounded from patrol because of his ankle, so he spent the nighttime hours reviewing the information Jason had added to their shared folders and listening in to the comms with a desultory ear. Weirdly, it looked like the organized crime connections Jason had uncovered revealed two similar but separate operations that converged into a single point in the Metropolis-Gotham arenas. Tim frowned, clicking through the transcripts of various interviews and interrogations Jason had conducted. It was unusual for two different organizations to cooperate at one particular juncture of operations like that. That would indicate something or someone bigger than both pulling their strings together.

Every once in a while he would have to talk himself out of clicking back to the open tab of video surveillance footage of Damian and Jon. Sometimes he even succeeded.

A tapping on the nearest window pulled him away from the computer screen while he was watching it again and cursing himself for idiocy at the same time. Damian, as Shrike, hung upside down on the other side of the pane. Tim hurriedly closed the video and hobbled to the window.

"In costume? Not very subtle," he said, shoving it open. He couldn't keep his smile completely dampened, though.

Damian slipped in, feet first, with an unnecessary but very pretty full rotation on the grappling line. "Everyone knows Batman is underwritten by WE; if someone sees, this will simply be interpreted as a consultation between mutual interests." He tapped his domino to clear the lenses. "Which it is. What are you working on?"

"The human trafficking case, actually." Tim closed the window and limped back to the computer. "Jason's uncovered some weirdness with the flow of commerce, so to speak. Check out the video for this interrogation."

He called up the footage from Jason's mask. A redheaded man with shoulders like a bulldog's and a pugnacious glare to match on his bearded face sat zip-tied to a chair in what looked like a warehouse filled with shipping containers.

Jason's voice, distorted by his mask, asked, "And where do the Russian connections start moving the women and kids?"

"What fuckin' Russians, you freak?" the man spat out, Southwest twang clear in his voice. "Fuck them, they got nothing to do with us."

Tim paused the video. "That's pretty much the response from both sides until he got to the Eastern seaboard. After that, they start spilling a little more, but I'm guessing the reaction is genuine from most of the people further west. Which makes me think there's someone running the show from our part of the country, with enough power to make Russians and Irish Mob play nice."

"Which is quite a bit of power." Damian rubbed his chin. "Maybe actual villain levels of power."

Tim smiled. Although the entire family were skilled investigators, few of them were able to draw conclusions as quickly and accurately as Bruce and himself. It was always nice to work with a brain that moved in the same direction as rapidly as his own. "Right. So now we're left asking who that is. This time."

"I can ask Jon to keep an ear out on his side," Damian said.

And just like that, any pleasure in their interaction fled, banished by mingled rage and hurt. Tim busied himself clicking randomly on various open tabs to hide his face. "Oh. Are you going to go visit him again?"

Whatever his voice did caught Damian's attention. Tim could see his head cock in inquiry in the reflection on the screen. "I hadn't planned on it, but he can be here in less than a second regardless."

"Yeah, I bet he comes fast," Tim muttered, smashing a click on the trackpad with unnecessary viciousness.

Quick as a thought, Damian reached past him and flipped the laptop shut. "Why are you angry?"

"I'm not." Tim flipped the screen back open again.

It slammed shut almost before he could yank his fingers out of the way, then was gone, tossed onto a nearby sofa cushion by Damian. "Let me revise the question. Why are you angry, and why are you lying about it?"

Tim gripped the edge of the table, hard enough for the wood to make his palms sting. One deep breath. Another. Don't lose your shit for no reason. The problem was, there was a reason. It was just a bad one.

Damian circled around and leaned on the table beside his hand, one careless hip on the surface. "You changed when I mentioned Jon. Do you not want him involved with the case? He doesn't have time to work with us anyway. He would just be listening for a name and reporting it to us if he heard it."

Tim's jaw clenched around the words but couldn't quite corral them. "I bet he'd make time for you."

"Wait." Damian reached for his chin. Tim jerked it away, knowing it was petty but unable to stop himself. Damian ignored that and grasped it between his thumb and forefinger too quickly for Tim to repeat the action. He examined Tim's face, eyes narrow. "Are you seriously angry about my having spent time with Jon? He's one of my oldest friends. One of the few who exist, as a matter of fact."

"It's not you 'spending time' that pisses me off, Damian." Tim rose to go get some water and maybe cool down in the process, but Damian blocked his path.

"Then what is it? Don't run. Your avoidance of direct conflict is downright pathological sometimes."

Tim clenched his fists at his side. He wanted to deny the accusation, but it was too justified. "Okay, one, I can't run anywhere right now, and two, I don't have any right to be angry and I know that, so just let it go."

Damian reared his head back, shock making his mouth drop open the slightest bit. Tim didn't have time to enjoy the unusual effect he was having because Damian's lips immediately curled into a sneer of disbelief. "Are you angry because I slept with him? After your enthusiastic endorsement of me fucking my way through the younger superhero set? Your hypocrisy knows no bounds."

Tim shoved past him. "It's not that."

Again, Damian refused to give him space, stalking ahead of him to stand in front of the fridge, arms crossed and brow stormy. "You're going to give me a straight answer."

"Fine!" Tim threw his hands in the air. "I fucking hate that you let him fuck you! You told me before I left that you didn't like that, but clearly you found out you did like it as long as it was with him, and it's killing me inside to know you trusted him with something you weren’t willing to do with me!"

Damian, for once, seemed completely nonplussed. He stood there, unmoving and unreacting except the rapid rise and fall of his chest, and said nothing.

Tim dropped his arms again, breath labored with fury and humiliation. "Are you happy now? I know I'm being irrational and a hypocrite and I hate that too. But I don't wanna share. Fuck, you have such a tight hold on me, you don't even know."

Damian opened his mouth and closed it a few times, wordless, in the following silence. Finally, he managed to say, "I cannot know what you do not tell me."

Tim hugged his own torso, miserable with having exposed himself. "Well. Now I've told you. So you can go laugh at how pathetic I am with Jon or whatever."

"That is unfair."

They stood, frozen, for a few more moments. Damian broke first and stepped forward, his arms reaching as if to embrace Tim before he yanked them back. Tim struggled with himself, sick of his own weakness, but then he couldn't keep up the pretense of a desire for freedom any longer. He moved to lean his forehead against the armor protecting Damian's heart and said, low-voiced, "I'm sorry. I know it's ridiculous of me."

Damian stripped his gauntlet off with his teeth and fit one big hand around the back of Tim's head. "Don't apologize. It's flattering." He caressed Tim's hair, settling him. "Does this mean you wish us to stop seeing other people?"

Nice of him to assume they would both need to stop. Tim nodded into his chest, still feeling too foolish for words to come easily.

Damian's smile curved against the top of his head. "Very well. I'll explain more when I come see you again later, but I'm amenable to that as well." He drew back and kissed Tim's forehead. "Put some ice on that ankle and elevate it. I'll return after patrol."

He left before Tim could do more than blink in surprise.

"Okay, then, guess I should have meltdowns more often," he said to the empty room.

days 77-83 here

[its-a-hil]

ok. random question. literally from the random question generator at randomwordgenerator dot cahm: What's your go-to funny story now, but was horrendous at that moment?

(i think it gave me a question i already know but eh shoot)

hm.

alright i think this is actually more of the reverse than the forward direction, but sure

when i was in middle school, i was such a horrible procrastinator (note: i am still one of those) that i often wrote rough drafts of essays during lunch

(the one year in middle school i didnt do this was when i had english 1st period. tbh i wish my schedule had worked out like that all 3 years, but alas)

but i got so comfortable just throwing out words with a pencil that i kept doing it and now i almost never edit anything bc i need to write it all in one go or it's wrong

but final drafts still had to be typed & printed, so it was only my rough drafts that were like this

fast forward to high school, and rough drafts became less of a thing

my compulsion to procrastinate did not.

oh also relevant here is that i was emotionally incapable of asking for an extension or submitting online after class or anything

so.

senior year of high school. we had an essay to write on Twelfth Night, where we had to pick a word that was repeated a few times and discuss its effect on the story

i picked 'fancy' and used it to argue the absolute bullshit point that it meant the whole thing was a dream, because i had no other ideas and my brain refused to set aside time to do something more reasonable

except.

i did not begin writing until lunch of that day.

i did not have access to the computer lab i had planned to write the essay in.

i pleaded with a friend to lend me his laptop, on which i did the most frantic writing of my life. i dont remember if i ate any food during that lunch period.

(according to my diary i also said something shitty to that friend even as he was doing me a massive favor, which. god.)

looking at the document now (ty google drive), it seems that i didnt actually finish the essay, just wrote notes on the different uses of the word

im not sure if it was just a rough draft or notes kind of thing that was due, or if i lucked out and the essay was extended or something? unclear

but what is clear is that i wrote 440 words in just over an hour, and that's not counting the quotes i had to transcribe (which also made up over 400 words)

the following night i turned it into an actual 750ish word essay in also about an hour, bc. yeah. (i still didn't write an intro until i printed it out during study hall the next day lmao)

so anyway the essay was shit, the teacher was genuinely confused and pulled me aside after the class where she handed the essays back

note: she was also the theater teacher & that semester i was doing the play afterschool, and i think she knew i was better than what i handed in

:/

in my defense i was fairly depressed that couple of months, partially due to an responsibility that i did not realize i could easily say no to. the only consequence that refusing that responsibility would have had is that i would have hated myself less and possibly liked engineering more

oh also looking at my diary apparently that was also the week that i taught precalc bc the teacher's partner was suddenly out for paternity leave and i had an essentially free period during the precalc class

so yeah that's probably the third most interesting week of my senior after the week that we had the play performances and the week i was out in the hospital when my lungs spontaneously collapsed

the funniest part of that story is that it took me another 3ish years to realize that i wanted to be a teacher, and another 2 years after that to act on that desire. lmao

anyway bc im sure you freaks want to see it, im putting the essay under the cut

Actual essay:

Twelfth Night is one of Shakespeare’s most fantastical plays. Even without the use of magic, the supposedly realistic events are completely improbable. There is evidence that the play was intended to be a fantasy, and throughout the play, the word “fancy” is used to suggest to the audience that the events of the play are little more than a fanciful construction of Orsino’s mind. 

Orsino speaks four of the six instances of “fancy” or “fantasy.” Two of these instances come in his first monologue, right at the beginning of the play. He claims that “so full of shapes is fancy that it alone is high fantastical” (1.1.14-15). As Adams says, in this passage Orsino claims “that his own imagination is so fertile that it is supremely capricious and whimsical.” (Adams 58). It is odd that the play would start with this double mention of fancy, especially when the word is not mentioned again until the end of Act two. It is even stranger that the plot concludes with Orsino making Viola/Cesario his “fancy’s queen” (5.1.415). Although Feste finishes the play with his final song, this line is the last spoken by any other character, and is a natural conclusion to the play nonetheless. There must be a reason why the play both begins and ends with a word only used six times throughout. This is the most direct clue that the play does not merely describe events in Shakespeare’s mind, but instead describes events in Orsino’s mind. 

More clues can be found by examining the other uses of fancy in the play. Sebastian remarks “Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep” after encountering a smitten, and unfamiliar Olivia (4.1.65). This line comes in one of the more fantastical scenes in the play, where Sebastian enters Illyria and is mistaken by everyone for Cesario. Sebastian can only conclude “this is a dream,” and calls upon fancy - imagination - to keep him from waking up. Sebastian addresses fancy as a powerful being, that has the ability to manipulate the world he sees. If the play does take place in Orsino’s imagination, fancy would have this power. Another thing to note about Sebastian’s mention of fancy is that it is in reference to Olivia. Her love for him, and reproach of the men who were dueling him, is the only reason he would want to continue living in this dream.

Olivia is a common subject of fancy, as used in its alternate definition of love. Malvolio, just before seeing Maria’s letter, thinks aloud that “should [Olivia] fancy, it should be one of my complexion” (2.5.24-25). Almost all references to fancy are directly related to Olivia. In fact, every major male character, except her uncle, is in love with Olivia. It is difficult for Orsino to conceive of a character who is not enamored when in the presence of the beautiful lady Olivia.  To him, when Olivia enters, “heaven walks on earth” (5.1.99). 

Regarding the rest of Malvolio’s scene, it is no less strange than Sebastian’s. The dour puritan begins with a statement of love for his lady, and then follows the insane directions of a letter that apparently describes her love for him, while the pranksters hide and watch in a nearby bush. Orsino’s mentions of “fancy” also take place in strange scenes. Without touching on the chaotic mess that is 5.1, 1.1 regards a Duke, who has been laid low grieving over his unrequited love for Olivia. She, in turn, decides not to admit any suitors until she has spent seven entire years mourning her dead brother. This scene feels almost surreal, setting the stage for the play that is to follow. Since almost every instance of the word fancy comes during a surreal scene, it can be inferred that the word is an indicator - a message to the audience that this play is a fantasy in the mind of Orsino.

There is one more use of “fancy,” however. During the argument between Orsino and Viola, Orsino speaks of men’s fancies as “more longing, wavering… than women’s are” (2.4.41-42). Twelfth Night is certainly long, spanning three months in Illyria, and the play constantly wavers from uplifting to demeaning, from reasonable to insane. The play as a whole fits so well with Orsino’s description of his “fancies” that one must wonder why that particular description was used. Interpreting Twelfth Night as a fancy conjured up by Orsino’s stricken mind makes a good deal more sense than attempting to reconcile the events with the real world. 

Work Cited:Adams, B. (1978). Orsino and the Spirit of Love: Text, Syntax, and Sense In Twelfth Night, I. i. 1-15. Shakespeare Quarterly,29(1), 52-59. doi:10.2307/2869169

The notes i wrote during the lunch period:

The first appearance of the word comes during Orsino’s monologue. The grief-stricken man describes his lovesickness by referring to his imagining of fantasies involving Olivia. Fancy is “full of shapes” to hear him tell it, filled with all kinds of images (1.1.14). This implies an interesting idea of the plot; it may be nothing more than a lovesick dream conjured by Orsino’s mind. After all, the plot is as “high fantastical” as something a distressed lover might imagine. (1.1.15). 

Malvolio’s mention of fancy is also about love and imagining it. He talks about “her [Olivia’s] fancy,” but the context of the scene and the rest of his dialogue imply that he is the one who fancies Olivia (2.5.24).. Malvolio claims that Olivia has said she would fancy “one of my complexion,” indicating that Malvolio has, through confirmation bias and imagination, convinced himself that Olivia was in love with him even before reading Maria’s letter (2.5.25). The fact that Malvolio, the outwardly stalwart Puritan, is as fanciful and in love as Orsino is a strong device for making fun of the Puritans as Shakespeare was wont to do. 

Sebastian has his reference to fancy when he meets Olivia and finds that he is the object of her fancy. 

[Discussing of the other two quotes]

In Twelfth Night, characters mention fancy when in fantastical scenes. Orsino had neglected his duties as a Duke to be lovesick over Olivia, Malvolio convinced himself that Olivia was in love with him moments before happening upon a letter regarding Olivia’s love, Sebastian came to a foreign city and found that a woman he had never seen was madly in love with him, and the final scene is perhaps the most fanciful of them all. Everything comes together in a hilarious, satisfying, and utterly unrealistic way. The use of the word fancy indicates that a scene either was or will be fanciful. This implies that Shakespeare is breaking the fourth wall, drawing attention to works of the imagination when the audience may be considering the play as imagination. In that way, Shakespeare implies that this comedy, however nice it may seem, is just a lovesick fantasy in the mind of Duke Orsino. 

Note also that almost every mention of the word is in reference to Olivia. The only exception is when Orsino calls Viola his “fancy’s queen,” but Orsino could just be (Inception-style) trying to prove to himself that he can love another. That is why the timeline does not make sense; Orsino needed to believe that his mind was not so changeable, that he would need three months with another woman to move past his love for Olivia. 

Quotes:

1.1.14-15:

Orsino: “So full of shapes is fancy 

That it alone is high fantastical.”

Context: These lines conclude Orsino’s opening monologue about his lovesickness and passion for Olivia. The monologue is discordant throughout, and this line sounds very arrogant, that nobody but a lover could have an extreme imagination.

This quote illustrates Orsino’s arrogance about his position (which is expanded upon in his later argument with Viola) and tells the audience that Orsino has spent some time cooped up in his mansion thinking of Olivia. 

2.5.23-25

Malvolio: “I have heard herself come

thus near, that, should she fancy, it should be one

of my complexion.“

Context: This comes just before Malvolio finds Maria’s letter, when he is fancying that Olivia might be in love with him. He has almost convinced himself of her love even before he sees Maria’s letter, which would be a strange coincidence if Twelfth Night was not a comedy. 

This quote describes Malvolio’s desperation to be loved by Olivia. He uses a few choice words and actions of Olivia as a justification for her love, indicating confirmation bias and lack of perspective. 

4.1.63-66

Sebastian: “What relish is in this? how runs the stream?

Or I am mad, or else this is a dream:

Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep;

If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!”

Context: This comes just after Sebastian enters Illyria and finds a beautiful woman suddenly wish to marry him. It is so illogical that he believes he must be dreaming, and he wishes for fancy to keep him from waking up. 

This quote tells us that Sebastian is wondrous at his entrance to Illyria. He forgets about Antonio as soon as strange men wish to duel and a strange beautiful woman claims to be in love with him. Sebastian is far more relaxed than most people would be in this context, especially if they could not find Antonio, the only person he was close with for the past three months.

5.1.412-415

Orsino: “Cesario, come;

For so you shall be, while you are a man;

But when in other habits you are seen,

Orsino's mistress and his fancy's queen.”

Context: This is the last line spoken by any character except Feste. It comes after Orsino learns of Viola’s true identity and gives up his love for Olivia. 

This quote implies that Orsino still thinks of Viola as Cesario, at least while she is in men’s clothing. 

[ms0milk]

Hi lovely 🎀

I just wanted to say hello and send some hugs your way. My last couple weeks have been pretty rough, but your writing always finds a way back to me, and brings me back to a little comfy and calm safe space. I don't know how you do it, but the world you created, makes me feel incredibly safe. I appreciate you so much, even though you didn't do it with me in mind, and don't write for my sake, you still manage to make me feel the safest. You created a world that feels so real that I could just sink into it, as if it were a refreshing and holy bath, cleansing me of all my worries from the day, and just exist in a world you created in your head. It's an honor to be allowed to view that world in my own small way, and I appreciate it more everyday. Thank you for the gift you gave to the world. It may not change entire world, but it changes mine.

Wishing the best for you always♡

- Romie🫶🏼

first, i’m so sorry your month has been rough with you. i am constantly reminded how unnecessarily difficult people i will never meet have decided everyone’s lives should be, on top of personal struggles, and things can just be so shit sometimes. I hope you’re safe! And isn’t it a beautiful thing that time never stops in one place for too long

Second, it took me a few days to respond to this because i didn’t want to let it out of my inbox! Romi thank you! Before anything, I need you to know that I literally do write this story for you. I look forward to seeing your thoughts every time I post. After weeks of working on a single chapter until my brain is numb, seeing a handful of comments and reblogs and theories and excitement is one of the only reasons i’ve continued writing this long. The story will have an end because of the five people that consistently show up for me, even when my posting is inconsistent, so thank *you!

I’m over the MOON that you feel connected to this world. Writing it and imagining it brings me into a safe space while I adjust to big changes in my life. I have an hour or two of free time every day and I have been **cramming** in writing time because I’m so excited to show you whats to come. I don’t say this as advertisement ofc, but hopefully something to look forward to in a difficult time

This was genuinely one of the kindest and most genuine messages I’ve ever gotten and I want to say thank you so much for taking the time to type it out for me. It’s impossible to express how meaningful it is. I’m sorry that you’re in need of such comfort atm, and I’m honored that you picked Hymn to be a safe place for you. New chapters will be arriving soon :)

xoxo

[penny00dreadful]

First Impressions - Chapter 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 AO3

All in all, Eddie was in a good place right now. 

He hadn’t been forced to interact with Harrington in days. 

He was making great tips at work too, a fact he attributed to his new round of ancient band tops that he’d recently slashed through and cut up, removing the ratty hems and collars, turning them into crop tops that left him chilly but he looked damn fine in.

He was still completely devoid of inspiration when it came to Eirwen, but there was a small short story he was working on in the meantime to burn off his writer's block. It had started with the thoughts of red lighting he’d had a couple of weeks ago and the flipped world mirroring this one called the Upside-Down. He’d originally envisioned a completely inverted world like a capsized ship but then started thinking of alternate worlds and planes and maybe an alternate dimension would fit better? So it wouldn’t be literally an upside-down world but more like a mirrored dimension.

It was leaning a bit more sci-fi than he wanted but that’s what was currently leaking out of his brain so he took it and ran with it while he waited for Eirwen to tell him what her next step was.

The bastardising traitorous fluttering in his stomach had eased away to a gentle wave that was almost non existent and Eddie thanked whatever gods were out there that he seemed to finally be getting over it. Whatever it was.

Just a biological reaction probably. That’s all.

He’d considered getting it all out of his system with someone else, hit up a few bars or clubs in the city, see if someone caught his eye and then he could just fuck the stupid biological urges out of himself.

But the idea really didn’t appeal to him anymore. He was tired. Tired of hookups, tired of short and sharp relationships that only lasted a few months until the honeymoon period wore off and they both realised they didn’t even really like each other under all the hormones. 

People always assumed Eddie was a quick fuck, no call afterward kinda guy. The hard edges and rough denim and the rings and the chains boxed him in in some aspects. But they kept him safe too. The fuckers of the world who liked to toy around with emotions left him alone because he looked like a tough bastard.

He wasn’t though. Chrissy said he was just a soft pink teddy bear on the inside and yeah, you know what? He really felt that way sometimes. But if his teenage years had taught him anything it was that people love to fuck around and hurt that little thing inside him for their own validation and that was not the most fun thing in the world.

He wanted… He wasn’t sure of exactly what he wanted. Maybe to be comfortable. To have a relationship that felt easy and simple and was so effortless to fall into because they clicked, they had chemistry and shared interests and were so compatible that it barely felt like work. He wanted companionship and love, not just hot bathroom or alleyway sex. 

Fuck.

Was this what getting old was like?

At least he had his passion for music back again. He’d been writing songs and the whole band had been more dedicated than every to getting their shit perfect , spending hours losing themselves in it. While he and the boys were just excited to perform for their friends, for the kids, Gareth was acting like his whole life depended on it. He had nearly erupted into flames when he’d heard that a recently single Will would be there to watch and he was almost militaristic with his orders to get their shit together and put on the performance of their life.

When he’d asked for a shift change so he wouldn’t have to go back to work after the gig, Charlie had whined and complained and started to rant at him but he just blinked his big wide eyes at her. He’d learned to weaponise them years ago.

She’d huffed and puffed and lamented that she shouldn’t even be here in her position. She was destined for a big city office job, or a rich husband so she could stay home.

Eddie had asked her once what would she even do sitting around at home all day under the thumb of said rich husband? It resulted in him being on the end of a mind numbing one sided conversation about how she’d keep the house straight or raise the kids and how hard could it be? And if it did get to be too hard, well wasn’t that what nannies and maids were for? She said that was the dream. Eddie thought it sounded like a lobotomy, but he kept that opinion to himself. He needed the shift change after all.

He’d tried to have a good bitch about it with Lionel but Lionel thought it wasn’t so bad. True love always had a way of working out, he said. If two people were happy together then nothing else mattered. Eddie held his tongue on that one as well. He just couldn’t break the poor boy's naive little heart. True love often didn’t survive when one side was incredibly dissatisfied or unequal in the relationship. His parents were an example of that.

*

Jeff tossed him a soda from across Gareth's garage as they ended practice. “Be advised, Dustin is working on getting Chrissy a date again.”

Eddie let his head drop back with an exasperated groan, shaking his fists. “Christ, what is that kid's problem? I swear to god, he thinks he’s the foremost authority on relationships because he’s been with the same girl since he was, like, five.”

“Thirteen.”

“Same thing.”

“Apparently his whole thing with playing matchmaker isn’t new. He used to do this shit to Harrington all the time.”

Eddie snapped his head back up to look Jeff in the eye.

“King Dick needed relationship help from a teenager? There’s no way that’s true. Harrington was famous for his sluttiness.”

“I don’t think it was that he needed his help, I think Dustin just forced his help on him.”

Eddie scoffed. “Typical. So why’d he stop? Tell him to start again, get back on Harrington’s case and off Chrissy’s.” 

“Nah, I’m not getting in the middle of that minefield. Sources say it went badly. And he spent a solid six months trying Robin and Harrington together.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. For a genius that kid could be so damn dense. There was an irritating itch in his brain, in his blood, in his skin. He didn’t want to ask. He didn’t care what kind of history was there. He didn’t. But apparently his mouth was running away with him again. “Did it go badly last time because it was Buckley or was it someone else? What did he do to fuck it up?”

Jeff raised an eyebrow at him and Eddie was forced to crack his soda can and gulp it down to avoid eye contact.

“Awfully presumptuous of you to assume he fucked it up. Some might even say you’re being judgy.”

“I’m not being judgy.”

“Prejudiced.”

Eddie spun back around. “Prejudiced?! Jesus Christ, what is this? A Jane Austin novel?”

“You’re being very dramatic right now.”

“Bite me.”

*

Dustin was a truly awful matchmaker and Eddie was forced to watch the whole awkward thing unfold from behind the bar.

Chrissy and Mr. Normal-Guy-Whatever-His-Name-Was were in a booth off to the side and he hadn’t stopped talking for the entire forty-five minutes they’d been there. Chrissy looked like she was in between falling asleep and pulling her own teeth out but she’d asked Eddie not to intervene. Yeah he could be a little… protective of her at times but that’s what best friends were for. He was just looking out for her. She was just too damn polite, too sweet to cut shit short. She didn’t want to be rude. Eddie had absolutely no problem being rude if he had to.

But she hadn’t looked in his direction the entire time, almost like she thought if they made eye contact he’d be activated like some kind of sleeper agent to swoop in.

Maybe she wasn’t too far off.

Was he being clingy? Overbearing? Was this red flag behaviour? There’s only so much he could excuse by being trauma bonded from the earthquake. It was how they’d first met, outside of passing each other in the highschool hallways. They’d both lost their homes and had arrived at the shelter at the same time resulting in their cots being situated right next to each other.

Chrissy had smiled at him under the settled dust in her hair and the cut across her eyebrow. She looked like Veronica Sawyer at the end of the movie and Eddie knew he looked more intimidating than he ever had in his life before. He’d been dressed for a show, all leather and tears and chains and mesh and denim. His eyeliner was smudged around his eyes, he had bruises blossoming over his arms and back, he had blood under his nails and in his hair and soaked through his jeans into his lap. None of it was his. None of it was Wayne’s either, thank god.

And she’d still smiled at him in her sweet open way and said “I guess we’re neighbours, huh?” while her mother sent them the stink eye.

They weren’t even that close in the weeks afterward, but she was always civil to him and his uncle, no matter what her mother whispered to her. Until one afternoon when he’d found her forcefully emptying her guts out in a secluded corner behind the building where he’d usually go to smoke. 

She looked terrified, guilty and in pain and it just about broke his heart. 

He sat with her after meal times then, to give the food time to digest and whisked her away from the soul sucking presence of her mother whenever he could.

In the intervening years between then and now they’d been through more than their fair share of shit and stuck by each other's side for all of it and he’d be damned if he stopped looking out for her now.

If only she’d look out for herself. He knew why she’d said yes to this doomed date. She was trying to cover up, to mask, to run. There was something there about her feelings for Robin and she couldn’t or wouldn’t acknowledge them. 

Eddie knew the dance well. 

She was trying to convince herself she was as straight as could be, trying to hide from the really scary self realisation that maybe she wasn’t straight. 

Or that could be Eddie projecting. 

He had plenty of denial in his own past and usually he hated to put a label on someone without their say so, but he knew Chrissy too well.

He was snapped from his inner thoughts as they both stood and began to make their way towards him. Chrissy looked withered and the guy looked earnest but intense, like he was trying to investigate a puzzle.

Eddie busied himself behind the bar, trying not to make it obvious that he’d been watching them like a hawk.

“Hi. How’s it going, you two?” He asked, as casual as possible which apparently wasn’t that casual if the strained smile Chrissy was giving him was anything to go by.

“It was a fun time, but we think we’re better off as friends.” Her expression to him was nothing short of ‘thank god’. Eddie couldn’t help the corner of his mouth lifting slightly but his expression dropped when he glanced back and saw the guy giving him a quick once over.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no please. Not a boring, normie guy I can’t even remember the name of. Please no.

The guy turned his watery blue eyes back to Eddie’s, his gaze unsettlingly intense but it seemed like he didn’t even realise he was giving off that kind of vibe.

“Well, I must not overstay my welcome. Bad etiquette, you know.” 

Oh jesus. 

His accent was overly posh, English and snooty as all hell. He inclined his head in Chrissy’s direction before offering her his hand. When she took it, he raised it to his lips and placed a stilted but innocent kiss on her knuckles before loosening his grip, not letting his hand linger too long. “‘Till we meet again, madam.”

“Uh…” Chrissy looked like she’d been thrown into the deep end of a cold pool. “Sure. Bye.”

With that, the man sent a curt nod in Eddie’s direction again, with another wandering eye, a gentler nod towards Chrissy and swept himself out the front door.

As soon as he was out of sight, she slumped forwards over the bar. “Eds, honey. I need a Cosmo date, now. Like right now.”

“Why don’t you just open your mouth and I’ll put a funnel down your throat?”

“Please.”

Eddie looked around the bar. There was barely anyone in, Jeff was recovering from the dentist so there was no lunch break gig tonight and Lionel looked like he was falling asleep from boredom at the opposite end of the bar.

“Okay, go back to your booth. I'll bring them down in a minute.” 

He tried to saunter down the bar as nonchalantly as possible, plastering on his best winning smile.

“Lionheart, darling.” The kid was startled a little at the sound. Maybe he really had been drifting off. “You know you’re my favourite little baby gay?”

Lionel’s gaze grew scrutinising as he took in the cocktail glasses Eddie was pulling down from the rack. The Hideout didn’t do cocktails. They were strictly a cheap beer and whiskey kind of place. But Eddie did cocktails for the people he liked and he was damn good at them. 

Lionel rolled his eyes but the sting was taken out of it by the sweet smile he always seemed to have on his face.

“Thirty minutes?”

Eddie placed the back of his hand over his forehead and swooned. “You’re my hero.”

Chrissy practically snatched the drinks from the tray when he brought them over, taking a large gulp before starting.

Apparently the guy had loved to talk about himself, his job, his hobbies, all with an uppity accent that had started to grate about fifteen minutes in. 

“Why didn’t you just stop him then? Cut the date short?”

“Because Edward , that would have been rude.”

“Not really, Christine . Rude would have been just getting up and walking out.”

“I still don’t understand how you can do that.”

“I don’t waste my time with people I don’t want to waste my time with.”

“Mm-hmm.” Chrissy hummed through another mouthful.

“Where did Dustin even find that guy? Did he just pick him up off the side of the road?”

“I dunno, apparently he knew someone who knew someone at work or something. Honestly,” Chrissy hesitated, hiding her blush behind her drink. “I kind of zoned out.”

They talked for a little longer, it was always so easy to talk to Chrissy. More than once they’d been kicked out of a diner or cafe because they’d lost track of time and had been hogging a table for hours. He wasn’t sure just how long they sat there before there was a sharp knock at the bar behind them. Looking around he saw Lionel nodding his head towards the back office and gesturing him over.

“Shit.” He nearly tripped over himself in his haste to run back with a happy tipsy buzz in his gums. He barely had a second to lean casually against the bar before Charlie stuck her head out.

“Anyone fighting?”

“No.”

“Anything broken?”

“No.”

“Good.” She was gone again the next second. Chrissy joined him at the bar a few seconds later, their conversation never letting up, not even once he finished his shift and they’d walked home.

Chapter continues on AO3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

[umichenginabroad]

Week 3: For Real this Time

Hello, hello! Declan McGrath is back to update you all on what has happened in the third work of the UCD Summer Physics program (yes I did accidentally label my last post ‘Week 3’ when it was actually only the second week of the program but we’re just gonna ignore that).

It has been an interesting week so far! We started off the week on Monday with some more physics as usual. However, after our lectures wrapped up for the day, the program took a trip to the historic Kilmainham Gaol. This gaol is where many of the leaders of the 1916 Easter Rising were held before their executions. It was a pretty fascinating historic site as we got to see the same cells where these leaders were held and where they were executed as well. We also got to see a restored painting of Mary and Child that was done by Grace Plunket, a cartoonist and wife of one of the Easter Rising leaders, Joseph Plunkett. Grace and Joseph were married in the gaol just hours before Joseph’s execution. After the marriage was finalized, the couple was granted just ten minutes together while watched over by soldiers who literally counted down the seconds aloud they had together. 

On a bit more of a happy note, later that night UCD hosted a trip to the coast of Dublin to see and jump off of the 40 Foot! The 40 Foot is a famous Irish swimming spot that has been used for over 250 years. My group of friends and I decided to get to the 40 Foot before the rest of the program as there were so many people going we knew that we could not all fit on one bus. What this decision led us to was us sprinting between multiple bus and train stops, just barely catching the necessary transportation. We just barely managed to catch the last train we needed and got to the 40 Foot almost an hour before the rest of the group did. We spent the time walking along the shore and taking pictures of the beautiful scenery around us.

It was honestly not the greatest weather for swimming. We had all walked to the 40 Foot in jackets to combat the strong winds and cool temperatures, so the idea of swimming in the Irish Sea was… not exactly appealing. However, we had already paid the bus fare and got all the way out there and might never come back, so as soon as the rest of the program showed up we doffed our heavy jackets and got first into the line. We climbed the rocks and got to the jumping off point and took the plunge! I did a flip off the ledge and splashed down. The water was colder than ice and incredibly rough. The waves were really tall and crashed down on me as I scrambled to get a hold of the nearby ladder so I could pull myself out of the water before my blood turned into a slushy. It was so much fun! I had somehow cut my toe while getting out of the water and was bleeding a bit but that didn’t stop me! I almost immediately got back in line and did another flip into the water. Somehow, the water was colder the second time around and I immediately regretted going back for seconds. 

After we all got out of the water and dried off, we decided to warm our bones in the most obvious way possible… getting ice cream. We walked about half a mile to the closest open ice cream shop to get some soft serve and it was pretty good.

The next morning we continued with more physics. In the afternoon the program showed us the movie Belfast in the university’s own movie theater! The movie was pretty good. The reason they chose this movie to show us was because we will be visiting Belfast this Saturday as part of a day trip in the program (don’t worry I will write about it next week :) ). The rest of Tuesday was pretty relaxing, with a bunch of us just meeting up and playing some more cards.

Not much happened on Wednesday. There were no planned activities and I was pretty tired from staying up late last night so I just took a small break for myself. I read a book and caught up with some friends back in Michigan over the phone which was very nice. Thursday was also a fairly relaxing day. We finished up lecture and my friends Jackie and Allie planned to meet up and watch the new season of a show on Netflix called Bridgerton. I had never heard of or seen the show before but it sounded like a fun time. We went to a Centra (Irish grocery store) that was on campus, bought some popcorn and a birthday cake, and made a night out of it! I had almost no idea what was going on (despite Jackie and Allie’s best attempts to explain it to me) but I still had a good time :). 

Friday has also been a pretty chill day. At the time of writing this blog we are just now finishing up with all our classes for today and after dinner we are planning on hanging out for a bit and getting ready for Belfast in the morning. Something I have learned from this program is that it is not a great idea to try and start packing for your day trip at 7 AM when your bus leaves the station at 7:15 AM. Wish me luck on my travels and I’ll see y’all next time!