#up into a faculty position which like... not even sure if i would want that...

[swankpalanquin]

listening to other people talk about their library school experiences and early archiving careers makes me just realize how i've done everything absolutely wrong lol

[fairuzfan]

What's new(ish) in the settler-colonial state of the US is that a series of bills have been passed in the House (the Baby Senate as I like to say) and are on their way to the Senate that make it harder to voice support for Palestinians while also making sure your direct taxes aid the genocide in Gaza.

These bills affirm the US's stance on the settler-colonial Zionist Entity and the implicit ties that the government has with Israel and really — just goes to show you how Israel is just one big base for American Imperialism.

Anyways, there's still time to call your senate and tell them that you don't want these bills that only further spiral the US into fascism so even if you think it might not do much — it's important that we document our dissent in official sources. And while you're at it — call your congressperson and tell them that if they voted for this you're not voting for them next election. If they voted against the bills, still call your congresspeople and tell them you support their decision to vote against these bills.

Here are the bills:

📍Resolution: HR 6126

Resolution Name: Israel Security Supplemental Appropriations Act Description: Gives $14.3 Billion To Israel From The IRS (Taxes You Pay). Like straight up. Just takes it from an IRS project, which used our tax dollars to begin with, to give to Israel "defense." Link to check summary: https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/118/hr6126

📍Resolution: HR 798

Resolution Name: "Condemning the support of Hamas, Hezbollah, and other terrorist organizations at institutions of higher education, which may lead to the creation of a hostile environment for Jewish students, faculty, and staff." Description: Will Penalize Students On American College Campuses For Supporting Palestine. This includes "Free Palestine" Protests as according to Rep Owens who introduced the bill (Click). Link to check who voted: https://www.govtrack.us/congress/votes/118-2023/h578

📍Resolution: HR 3266

Resolution Name: "Tolerance in Palestinian Education Act" Description: They will be examining Palestinian education materials to see if it promotes "hate" or "violence" (aka are they teaching their children to become murderers??). Will inevitably require Revision Of Text Books In Palestinian Schools To Portray The Occupation In A Positive Light. Link to summary: https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/118/hr3266

📍Resolution: HR 340

Resolution Name: "The Hamas International Financing Prevent Action" Description: Claims to stop financial support for "terrorist" organizations but considering that Gaza's government is run by Hamas, then this would mean Gaza will receive absolutely no aid and donating to people in Gaza could get you in legal trouble. Link to summary: https://www.govtrack.us/congress/bills/118/hr340

There's a button for most of these bills that allows you to contact your representative directly. Please do take the time to contact them — while many of this isn't especially new to Palestinians, the difference is now that we have a larger power in numbers than we did in the past. Please make sure to advocate for you Palestinian comrades in the US whenever possible! Help us Free Palestine one step at a time!

[transmutationisms]

do you have any thoughts on declining attention spans? it kind of sounds like bs to me, but it also seems like there is pretty unanimous agreement from everyone that they can't focus on anything anymore, but ALSO these people feel like failures if they aren't "productive" so i can't trust them because i am lazy

'attention span' is a notoriously poorly defined concept, which makes it impossible to do high-quality quantitative research on it in the past or present, which means instead of having actual information to present people just make up shit about 'goldfish attention spans' (not something we know how to measure either) and invent the numbers for the human comparison too

even if 'attention spans' were shortening, it's not prima facie clear this would be an inherently bad thing. surely we aren't approaching this topic from some kind of reactionary assumption that the brain and human mental faculties have never changed and could only do so in a degenerative fashion... oh wait

i don't think talking about how well we can stay focussed is useful out of context and i think a lot of this is related to expectations that are frankly unrealistic for most people in like recorded history about how we 'should' be performing in offices and schools

a lot of these scary sounding claims about focus and attention span are literally just being sourced from online pharmacies or quick clinics that want to sell you stimulants lol and they're too cowardly and legally hemmed in to just commit to a drug legalisation position so instead they link into a lot of longstanding psychiatric discourses about why you have a brain disease that gives you an amphetamine deficiency and no they don't care that doing this both contributes to gatekeeping drugs and also propagates extremely misleading claims about what those drugs are capable of doing

[defectiveporcelaindoll]

Chapter 1: The Manuscript

“He thought about how they said-

Since she was wise beyond her years everything had been above board. Now he wasn’t sure…”

series masterlist

pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU AFAB!Reader

summary: an unsub with a taste for couples and power imbalances leads Doctor Spencer Reid not only back into the classroom but down the hypothetical aisle with the BAU's newest Probie for an undercover assignment that may change his life.

genre: slow-burn romance?

cw: age gap (Spencer is in his 40s, reader is 24), a couple y/n’s (I’m sorry, I know I’m sick of it too.), fake marriage, possibly eventual smut in later parts we’ll see, female reader she/her pronouns, bad writing! lemme know if I missed anything! And as always, lemme know what you think!

wordcount: 1.3k

“The professor said the write what you know”

Spencer sat at his desk, anxiously scribbling away at a case file that he knew he simply wasn’t ready to hand over just yet. Not ready to let go or say goodbye. The office was deserted with the exception of Emily still fussing around in her office like she always was these days, just like Hotch before her, and Gideon before him. Back in the days when he was the youngest member of the team— god how things had changed.

“Looking backward might be the only way to move forward-”

six months prior:

"Come on, Em. She’s too young. I’d hardly say she has any real-life experience, and as helpful as she’s been, she certainly doesn’t have the field experience. And you want to drop her into an undercover operation at a university thousands of miles away? I just can’t logically wrap my mind around how you think this is our best option,” Spencer sighed, anxiously pacing the length of Emily’s office. Maybe it was the lights, but more likely it was the outlandish plans being laid before him that were bringing on the all-too-familiar throb of a migraine.

Emily cleared her throat, glancing up at Spencer with a tight-lipped, not-quite smile. “If you would let me finish, I wouldn’t be sending her alone. I’d be sending her with you. The unsub—or rather, unsubs—are targeting couples where the man,” she pointed to him, eyes widening as if to say keep up, “in the relationship comes from a position of power above the woman.” She wildly waved her hand toward the door, motioning to the woman sitting just outside the office.

“You’d be posing as a professor, which technically isn’t anything new for you. Though we might have to rub a little dirt on your good name.” She shrugged, glancing back down to shuffle through the pile of files on her desk until she found the one she was looking for, holding it out for Spencer. “A handsome professor and his new, albeit young, ex-TA of a wife... forced to move after your relationship went public. Tragic.” She quirked a brow, offering Spencer a playful smirk. He did not return it, instead rolling his eyes as he thumbed through the file containing what could be his life for the next couple of months.

“Look, if we place you both at the university, she’ll fit in with the students, you’ll fit in with the professors, and now we have eyes and ears everywhere we need them. It’s logical enough, Spencer, and she’s already agreed as long as you’re up for it.”

There was a long pause as Spencer’s mind ran wild, figuring the probability of everything that could and likely would go wrong if he agreed to this plan.

“Look, we’ll even count this towards thirty days of teaching if that sweetens the deal at all?” Prentiss let out an exhausted sigh. Clearly, this was her only option, and everyone else, even the higher-ups, had approved this plan. It all now sat on Spencer’s shoulders. All he needed to do was agree.

“Fine…” he mumbled, his palm digging into his eye socket briefly trying to dull the growing pain behind his eyes. If Prentiss noticed, she chose not to address it. “Great! See, maybe it’ll be good for you? The faculty housing looks nice-ish..? And you’ve gotta admit, Y/N is sweet. I think she’ll learn a lot from you.”

Before Emily could finish her statement, Spencer turned on his heels, stalking out of the Unit Chief's office past the probie, her doe eyes fixed on him like he was a predator. Her gaze startled him in a way that sent him tripping over his own feet. He quickly righted himself, not daring to glance back at the younger agent on his way to the kitchenette.

An hour and several cups of coffee later, Spencer Reid found himself at the round table, sitting perfectly still as his breath caught in his lungs, watching the young woman in front of him sign her name on the dotted line. It’s official; Doctor Spencer Reid is officially a married man—sort of.

It felt so absurd, having to sign a marriage license. Though, logically, he understood. If they were using Spencer’s name and reputation as a backbone for this assignment, there should be a paper trail. At least when it came to this, he knew Penelope could fabricate anything and everything else they might need, but this silly piece of paper, declaring them man and wife—that was free and public information that needed to be real.

“So…” Y/N's voice was soft as it attempted to cut through the heavy weight of the awkward atmosphere. She fidgeted, tapping the pen against the table.

Spencer cleared his throat, eyes raking over her as the voice in his head told him once again that this was an awful idea, that she was too young, that she had no field experience, and there were far too many ways this could all go south. He tried his best to shake them off. “If you don’t mind me asking, I don’t mean this to be rude. I was a young agent—actually one of the youngest agents the BAU has ever had—” he caught himself in his ramble, his eyes searching her face for any kind of discomfort before blinking harder than necessary in an attempt to focus. “Sorry—uh, how old are you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I’ll be twenty-five in October… so twenty-four.”

"Right..." he chuckled, shaking his head, "that means...w-when you were born I already had two PhDs and was nearly finished with my third."

She groaned, a slight blush covering her cheeks as she fought the embarrassed grin threatening to take over her lips. “Doctor Reid—”

“Spencer.” He cut her off, offering a tight-lipped smile. “I—Uh… you can just call me Spencer. I don’t think couples typically use such formality when they’re addressing each other…”

“I guess you’re right,” she said, offering a little nod. “Spencer,” his name felt too personal on her lips, “I—” a rosy blush creeping up her neck as her mind went completely blank, every thought she’d ever had lost in the warm glow of his golden eyes.

As if on cue, Emily entered the room, a smirk on her lips as she observed the younger, seemingly awestruck agent gawking at her favorite genius. “Hope I’m not interrupting, but I thought these might be useful?” She shrugged, placing a velvet box down beside Spencer before sliding the other across the table to fall into the younger woman’s lap. “Congratulations. I now pronounce you man and wife or whatever they say—beware, Penelope is likely going to throw rice or glitter or whatever she found in her desk at you as you walk out of this room. You’ve been warned. And I’d say kiss the bride, but frankly, I don’t want to see that. Wheels up in thirty.”

With that, she offered the new couple a nod before retreating back out of the conference room, back to her office, leaving them to open the velvet boxes. The rings were simple, nothing too flashy, like something you’d expect a professor to be able to afford without breaking the bank.

“Right…” Spencer said, sliding his own ring onto his finger before rising to his feet, his fingers awkwardly clenching and flexing at the unfamiliar weight. “Maybe if we don’t leave together, Garcia won’t ambush us.” He turned towards the door, hesitating a moment to glance back at the woman he could now call his wife. “Unless—unless you’re ready to go… we could, uh, head out together?”

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Y/N nodded quickly, jumping to her feet as she organized the pile of papers back into their folders and into her bag. She crossed the room, stopping beside Spencer. She glanced up at him, her own ring feeling heavy on her finger as she hesitantly reached out, offering him her hand. He looked at her for a moment, his eyes going back and forth between her waiting palm and her eyes before reluctantly accepting the offer.

“Shall we, Mrs. Reid?”

“Now and then he re-reads the manuscript. Of the entire torrid affair~”

Chapter II: Guilty as Sin

Thanks for being interested in my silly little concept 🩵

@flowerpott1978 @olives-and-sunshine

[magicalbats]

never fallen from quite this high

Rating: R/18+

Word count: 21490

Warnings: afab!reader, chubby reader, size difference, age difference, desk sex, missionary position, cunnilingus, barebacking, vaginal fingering, cum eating, a hint of enemies to lovers

A/N: I put my whole badussy into this one, guys vmsksjfe I hope ya'll enjoy the fic, and major shoutout to my longtime friend, fellow writer and quality checker for this piece @abbacchiosbelt! Everyone should make sure to check out her page while you're here! She's got plenty of goodies for you to sink your teeth into!

⭐

As far as meetings in the back office of the Northland Bank were concerned, this one was an unmitigated disaster. 

The young man seated across the table had blown in like a veritable typhoon late that morning when the sun was just short of reaching its zenith. He came with neither a formal missive or a courier to precede his arrival, catching all the Snezhnayan natives off guard and woefully ill prepared. It wasn’t hard to figure out that the branch director, a stout bespectacled man in his middle years, hadn’t known he would be coming given the way he’d nearly fallen over in a dead faint at the first sight of him. It was almost nonstop chaos after that as everyone rushed about to prepare fresh coffee and snacks, and to arrange lodgings for their guest. A few staff members even quietly slipped off at the director's behest to double check that everything was in order behind the scenes, silently disappearing off into the shadows like phantoms returning to their dark crypts.  

You hadn’t been sure what to make of it all at first, but had quickly caught on that this was someone important in their ranks. Someone with a great deal of power and influence who was in all likelihood a dangerous individual no matter how disarming his easy smiles were. 

But, truth be told, the mysterious man didn’t look like much no matter how you tried to discreetly size him up from a distance. He was tall yet lanky in build, moving with the thinly veiled grace of a warrior — or perhaps a dancer, but your mora was on the former if he was able to work everyone up into such a frenzy just by showing his face. And despite his lean physique, you could tell he was indeed quite strong simply by the way he carried himself, all boldfaced confidence and self assured the way only a man in his prime could pull off. He was definitely trouble. 

And you wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. You were just the PR ambassador, after all, and a token one at that. Your job was to help foster good relations between the icy foreigners and your fellow Liyuean’s, not to insert your nose in business it didn’t belong. 

With that in mind, you’d tried to beat a hasty retreat before anyone could notice your presence and subsequent absence, but the director was a crafty one indeed. You barely made it two full steps before he was suddenly right there beside you, as if he’d materialized out of thin air to cut off your escape route. Summarily ignoring your protests, he’d dragged you with him towards the conference room nestled in the far back of the building where the unknown youth was already waiting, depthless blue eyes dancing with good humor and mirth. The click of the door behind you had sounded like a death sentence.  

The following half hour was occupied (to your surprise) primarily with pleasant niceties and intermittent toasts over that potent firewater Snezhnayan’s seemed to like so much, but which you had primly declined. Even if the stuff didn’t make you gag at just a thought, the current situation was a bit too uncertain for you to risk compromising your faculties like that. None of the northerners in the room seemed to bat an eye at it though; not the director or his personal secretary, nor the ginger haired man who was evidently known to his colleagues as Childe. He seemed almost too casual about everything — the drinks and the banter, and the fond reminiscences of their homeland casually passed between them — to be here on official matters of business. You soon concluded that it was a personal visit, then. Perhaps even a holiday of sorts. 

You’re quickly proven wrong, however, when he unceremoniously flips everything on its head with the procurement of a sealed parchment from somewhere on his person. The director’s reaction to its contents was a stark one and it made you sit up straighter in your seat, half prepared to bolt for the exit should the need arise. But the next few minutes are a terse, confusing whirlwind as the three foreigners revert to their mother tongue, trading rapid volleys back and forth while the director’s tone of voice grows increasingly more tremulous by the minute, and you aren’t quite sure what’s going on anymore. You’re almost convinced that a fight is going to break out at any moment but a surreptitious glance at Childe shows him still at ease, apparently not even invested enough in the discord he’s sewn to give the other man his full attention. Rather, you catch him grinning over at you. 

“Is he always like this?” He poses the question lightly, the lilt in his voice bordering on playful, but you don’t trust it. Not by a long shot. 

The director sputters in thinly veiled offense but you ignore him completely, much more concerned about the yet unknown danger sitting across the table. Making a valiant effort to keep your expression pleasant and neutral, you offer Childe a polite smile. “Not usually.” 

He quirks a brow at that vague non-answer but doesn’t comment on it, swiveling his attention back around to the issue at hand. Finally pulling himself out of his confident slouch, he sits forward to take up the crystalline glass decanter sitting just within reach so he can pour more of that pungent drink into first the director’s cup and then his own. “Come now, old friend. Is this really something to get so worked up about? And right in front of our Liyuean guest too …” 

The director cuts you a sharp, slicing look and you get the sense that he was regretting the decision to drag you back here for this impromptu meeting, visibly struggling to rein his temper in with a deep, bullish exhale. Serves him right, you think bitterly to yourself. You never had any business sitting in on this bizarre exchange in the first place. 

“Apologies, my lord. I did not mean to forget my manners,” Another brief glance over at you, as if he were trying to warn you to keep your head down. As if you really needed any further incentive to do just that. “However, it is my deepest regret to inform you that I’m not confident if this branch of the Northland Bank has the means to accommodate your, ah … needs.”

Slowly, Childe lifts his strange eyes to pin the director with a look that sends shivers racing down your spine. You’d been relatively certain he was far more dangerous than he outwardly appeared but this was something far beyond even what you had anticipated. How did someone so young, still in the prime of his youth with his whole life ahead of him, manage to embody such a deep, dark sense of foreboding at the drop of a coin? 

“What are you saying, Krzysiek? Are we not in Liyue, the very birthplace of mora? There should be plenty to spare in your vaults.” 

The director hurriedly rushes to amend himself, trying to play it off with a laugh. “Yes, my lord. Of course, that is all indeed true. But even the amount of mora in circulation at any given time has its limits. You see, if I were to give you this very large sum here and now,” the director pointedly taps the parchment in his hand with a worn finger. “Then there won’t be anything at all left in our reserves. We wouldn’t be able to give out any new loans, pay our staff their wages or even let any of our customers withdraw from their accounts. I can’t imagine the owner of the bank would appreciate that very much, so I’m sure you understand my hesitation.” 

Mouth opening in surprise when you realize just how large a sum the request must be, you eagerly swing your head towards Childe in anticipation of his next response. 

Luckily for you, he doesn’t even seem to notice with the whole of his attention fixed singularly on the director, and you watch in something not unlike fascination as he slowly leans forward in his seat. “Are you an idiot? It was Regrator himself who signed that order.” He growls, flashing pretty white teeth. “Check it again, maybe a little more carefully this time. I’m not some lackey trying to pull one over on you.” 

“Certainly not, my lord. I never suggested - -“ 

“You may report directly to my colleague but I’m still a Harbinger, Krzysiek. I think Regrator would like your lack of foresight even less than not being able to let people take out withdraws.” 

A pair of sharp gasps echo inside the room and, in almost perfect unison, the director and his secretary both turn twin looks of horror on you. 

Pulse stuttering, you pointedly keep your expression blank even while the urge to reel back in shock threatens to overpower you. You’d heard rumor of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, whispers of their great influence and even greater strength, but the Snezhnayan’s stationed in Liyue weren’t very forthcoming about any of the details or specifics. You’d also never seen one in person before and hadn’t thought it was even possible for one to be so young as this. Childe looked like he was perhaps only a few years younger than you … three, or perhaps even four, but yet he held a title so grand? 

And judging by the way they were looking at you, you probably weren’t supposed to know that. 

Following their line of sight, Childe glances over at you and smiles. “Ah, you’re worried about our little guest here spilling the beans? People will soon start to gossip amongst themselves anyway, so I don’t think it really matters.” His boyish grin fades as he turns his attention back to the director again, tone losing all of its mirth. “I’d say you have much more pressing concerns right now.” 

Nervously, the director drags a stiff hand over his mouth to wipe away the beads of sweat starting to form along his upper lip. “Yes, my lord. Of course. You are correct.” He pauses to clear his throat. “I’m sure we can find a satisfactory compromise. Please allow me a chance to correspond with, ah, my lord directly and confirm his wishes first. Surely there are things you’d like to see or do while you’re in Liyue? This will at least give you the chance to explore the city at your own leisure while I await his response.” 

“You mean to further waste my time, Krzysiek? Is that it?” 

“No, not at all! I would never dream of such a thing and that is precisely why I brought her along.” He gestures at you then, making your back snap straight as board. You don’t think you can hide it any longer, the dread curling like a venomous serpent low in your gut, but if he sees any of the thinly veiled terror in your face he doesn’t acknowledge it. “As I said earlier, this is our personal relations ambassador at the branch and she knows the city like the back of her hand. Why, I dare say there isn’t a single stone she doesn’t know the history of. You’ll have your own personal tour guide to show you everything you might ever wish to see while you’re here.” 

Your mouth drops open in abject shock. You hadn’t agreed to that. Wouldn’t have even if he’d asked, not now and not in a million years. Not ever. 

But Childe turns his head before you can protest and anything you might have said catches in your throat when he gives you a chilling once over. Gradually, his expression thaws and his shoulders relax as he reclines back into his seat with a long suffering sigh for effect. “Fine. You have three days to get your clearance directly from Regrator then. That’s how long I was planning to stay in Liyue anyway so it doesn’t exactly change anything, although I still don’t understand why his signature on that letter won’t just as well suffice.” 

“My sincerest apologies, my lord. I only wish to make absolutely certain I do not go against his wishes in meeting yours.” The director reaches out to hold his cup up to Childe who disinterestedly eyes it for a beat before doing the same with his own, much to the older man’s visible relief. “Our ambassador will take good care of you, and see that your every need is met during your stay. This I swear on Snezhnaya’s honor.” 

“Enough, Krzysiek.” Childe grumps, clinking their glasses together. “Just don’t come up short handed when everything is said and done.” 

You watch them drink to it, tossing their heads back almost simultaneously to swallow down that deceptively clear liquid with neither a grimace or a seething hiss to show for its potency. It’s as if it doesn’t even register in their minds but you, on the other hand, felt disproportionately nauseous considering you hadn’t had so much as a sip of their aptly named firewater. You didn’t even really understand what was happening or how things had gotten to this point but if there was one singular truth you were sure of it was this: 

You desperately needed to find some way out of it. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Dejectedly, you hand the fresh grilled skewer of fish out to Childe who takes it with a smile and a quick word of thanks. He doesn’t even stop long enough to blow on the visibly hot meat before biting into it, and you watch him huff and puff between chews to let some of the steam escape from his puckered lips before quickly swallowing it down. Your patience with him was fast unraveling, and not even because of his questionable manners. If you were honest with yourself you would have had to admit that he was frustratingly charming in a boyish, borderline clumsy sort of way. Cute, even. 

But your desperate attempt to weasel your way out of this had fallen on deaf ears, the director insistent that you were the only person in all of Liyue who could possibly play tour guide for the visiting Harbinger. You’d begged, pleaded and even threatened to resign from your position at the Northland Bank right then and there if that was what it would take for you to avoid having to deal with the situation any longer. The director had finally wavered at that, looking like he might be slowly coming around, but before he could actually relieve you of this assignment none other than the devil himself had appeared, right on cue. 

He was eager to set out and get started on exploring the city after freshening up, and hadn’t taken ‘no’ for an answer when you’d argued against it. Your pleas for a little more time with the director were likewise summarily dismissed, and before you realized what was even happening he’d thrown a friendly arm over your shoulder so he could steer you towards the door. Completely undeterred by any of your hissing complaints or threats of retaliation upon him, he pulled you straight out into the midafternoon sun where he’d made a prompt request for lunch. He was so amicably pushy about everything that you’d had no choice but to comply or risk having him drag you all over the harbor by the arm.

That hadn’t been the best start to your time together but, somehow even worse, is that Childe had proven himself to be every bit as troublesome as you’d first expected him to be. He joked too much, for starters, and his penchant for eagerly pulling you off in whichever direction caught his fancy was quickly running you ragged. Excitable and full of unspent energy, it was all you could do just to keep up with him. You’d tried to tell yourself it would only be lunch, just one place and then you would wipe your hands of him, but he was undaunted and things were still not going in your favor. 

Even stopping at a small kiosk for a quick snack was not enough to keep him standing still for very long and the two of you are soon off again in a seemingly random direction, as dictated by his spur of the moment whims and fancies. You were going to be exhausted by the time this day was finally over. 

“Hey, what’s that all about?”

Bringing your head up, you follow his line of sight to a small congregation of people flocking around a lone figure in the center of all the bustling excitement. You recognize the bonnet immediately, and a smile slowly pulls at your mouth. “That is our very own star of the opera. Her name is Yunjin, and she’s very popular among the general public and aficionados alike.” 

But when you bring your gaze back around, you’re startled (and more than just a bit horrified) to find his attention fixated on you rather than the crowd. 

“Oho, so you do know how to smile! I was starting to wonder if you just didn’t remember how.” 

“W - what is that supposed to mean?” You snip, recoiling defensively. 

“Oh, nothing,” he sing-songs right back. “It’s just that all I’ve seen you do so far is scowl and look like a skittish kitten ever since we met. I’m glad to know you like something, even if it isn’t me.” 

Childe’s lilting laughter makes the blood rush to your face, and you quickly look away so he doesn’t see the fluster you were valiantly trying to stamp down. “Forgive me, xiansheng. I did not mean to be rude. It’s just — all of this was dumped on me so suddenly and you’re …” 

“Hm? And I’m what?” 

This shameless teasing was perhaps the worst facet of his personality of all. The pushiness and the refusal to acknowledge any protests were one thing, the strange dissonance in his behavior another entirely, but this … it was vaguely reminiscent of a boy who either hadn’t yet learned his manners or didn’t care enough about the consequences to keep his mouth in check. You suspected it to be the latter, his confidence as unerring as his energy, and you would’ve had half a mind to give him a good swat on the behind had he not been nearly double your height and only a few years your junior. Unfortunately, you were in no position to correct him. 

So you school your expression into a professional mask of indifference and turn your head to pin him with the most bland look you can muster. “A Harbinger. It’s true, isn’t it?” 

He quirks a brow at you, evidently not having expected that to be your response. “Is that really what’s had you so on edge this whole time? You’re worried about my title?” Abruptly throwing his head back, he laughs up at the sky. “Goodness, I had no idea that upset you so much. If I’m being honest, you were so stoic back at the bank that I wasn’t even sure if you knew what a Harbinger was!” 

You can feel your cheeks starting to turn hot again and you quickly try to wrestle it back under control. “Of course I’ve heard the rumors! It would have been a little hard to avoid them in this position but you Snezhnayan’s usually aren’t the most talkative bunch, you know. I’m sure there’s plenty of information I’m still not privy to.” 

“Ooh, and is that your way of asking me to help you understand a bit better?” Childe sends you a slow, knowing grin, and you have no choice but to admit that you were in a bit over your head with him no matter how much you might try to fight it. He was regrettably adept at embarrassing you, it seemed. 

“It might be nice to know what I’ve got myself mixed up with.” You softly, grudgingly admit, earning a chuckle out of him. 

“Alright. I suppose I can share a few details with you, but I want to ask a few things in return. How does that sound?” 

Your head snaps up and you fix him with a surprised, questioning look. Ever unperturbed, he ruefully wags his skewer stick at you with an unmistakable, mischievous gleam in his strange eyes. 

“It’s only fair, right girlie? I’ll tell you what you want to know and you’ll tell me what I want to know. Isn’t that what alchemists call equivalent exchange?” 

Huffing, you cross your arms under your breasts and pin him with a flat look, trying to impart just how unamused you are with his silly little shenanigans. “Don’t call me that. And I don’t know anything about alchemy, but … okay. I’ll play along. Within reason.”  

Your answer seems to delight him to no end, and he promptly flies off into a rather expressive tangent about Snezhnaya, her majesty the Tsaritsa, the Fatui and the eleven Harbingers that command their numbers. He gesticulates eagerly throughout his explanation, primarily touching on rank and hierarchy, but it soon becomes gibberish that simply goes in one ear and out the other. You were not intimately familiar with the inner workings of either government or military, and you had no desire to be, but you decide to let him keep talking anyway. It was clear he was only telling you very surface level information that would neither give away too much or reveal any national security secrets, but there were still a few things you were able to glean from listening to what he did say. 

One was that the Harbingers were not only a very, very dangerous organization as a whole but even on an individual scale each was more powerful than the last. It was a little hard to believe at first when you were looking at Childe — so young and long-limbed, and seemingly unfettered by any greater concern than where his next source of entertainment would derive from, but recalling the intense shift in his demeanor back at the bank … yes, you were willing to believe he stood among the most elite warriors in Snezhnaya. Although you hadn’t seen his physical prowess in action yet (and hopefully never would) it was a decidedly good idea not to take him at face value. Doubly so for the rest of his colleagues, including the one you yourself indirectly worked for. 

The second was the nature of his visit to Liyue. He danced around the subject for the most part but he did let it slip that he was headed to Fontaine after securing the funds, presumably per his orders to personally transport the mora himself, and you supposed that did make a certain amount of sense. If he was as strong as you believed him to be then it would explain why he would have been saddled with such a task. Though, it also didn’t escape your notice that he spoke on the subject with no shortage of annoyance coloring his voice and it was hardly any wonder why. Childe was clearly the type who preferred hands-on, proactive roles that put him in the heart of conflict rather than acting behind the scenes like this. He wasn’t exactly trying to hide it, after all. 

Regardless, it was somewhat reassuring to know that many of your initial assumptions about him had been correct and you now knew with absolute certainty that you needed to be careful in how you approached these interactions with him. It wouldn’t do to somehow offend him and invite his wrath upon yourself or your family, because clearly there would be no stopping him in that case. But did that in turn mean you were stuck playing tour guide for the duration of his stay, lest you risk upsetting him?

This was turning into quite the conundrum, indeed. 

“And that’s about it.” He says at last, much too cheery for your liking. “For what I can tell you, anyway. I know it probably seems like I left quite a bit out but trust me, girlie, you don’t want to get tangled up with this more than you already are. Hopefully I was able to satisfy some of your curiosity though.” 

“You did,” you murmur slowly. Then, with more conviction, “And don’t call me that. Didn’t I already tell you that once?” 

Laughingly, he waves you off. “Yeah, yeah, I get it. But let’s put that aside for right now. It’s my turn to have some questions answered. Think you’re up to it?” 

You hesitate, wondering what he could possibly want to know. If it was information about Liyue you would have gladly divulged it without the need for this trade between you and him, but you’d long since picked up on the fact that he just liked being difficult for the sake of it so it didn’t exactly come as a surprise. It was a bit annoying though, having to humor these silly games of his like this. 

“Alright, I’ll do my best.” You say at last. “Just keep in mind that I can’t tell you something I don’t know. Your questions have to be within reason, remember?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. I’m sure you won’t have any problem answering this.” 

Growing ever more suspicious, you quirk a brow at him but he just offers you that same boyish grin again. If the circumstances had been any different you probably would have found yourself giving in to its magnetic pull despite your (well founded, in your opinion) reservations about doing so, but even that attractive smile was not enough to distract from who — or rather what he was, and you brace for the worst. Was he going to ask you about the Qixing or maybe Lady Ningguang specifically? The Milileth? 

Your thoughts are abuzz with the possibilities but the very last thing you expect him to ask is precisely what comes out of his mouth next. 

“Do you have any siblings?” 

Stopping dead in your tracks, you stare up at him in abject disbelief. That was what he wanted to know? 

“Hey, let’s keep it moving, girlie.” He can’t seem to get his laughter under control as he pivots on his heel and takes hold of your elbow, pulling you back into motion again. You fall in step, stumbling slightly, as he pins you with the most mischievous grin you’ve seen yet — the unapologetic rascal! “Wouldn’t want anyone to run you over, now would we? I’m not sure if my poor little heart would ever recover.” 

Lips pursing, you narrow your eyes at him in warning even while he whoops it up, drawing the attention of more than just a few passersby. How humiliating it was to be seen with someone like this in broad daylight. 

“I’m an only child.” You grit out, snatching your arm from him with a prim huff for good measure. 

Your prickly attitude doesn’t deter him half as much as you would’ve liked though, and Childe merely takes it in stride as if you weren’t doing everything in your power short of stomping on his toe to dissuade him from continuing on in this manner. So on and so forth, he eagerly poses a seemingly never ending series of questions that range from as benign as how old you were (three years older than him, you come to find) right up to your relationship status. You try very hard to shut down his more intrusive queries, refuse to humor them with a real answer, but his pushiness returns with a vengeance. Any attempt to side step or discourage him was just met with the same question worded a different way until you finally gave in with no other choice and no escape in sight. More than once he even pretended to move on from a topic to placate and soothe you before eventually circling right back around to it again when you least expected it. 

He was exhausting in the worst possible way. Unrepentant and shameless, utterly hopeless, he badgers you incessantly for the rest of the afternoon until you could scarcely tell what was what anymore. You’d never felt quite so harried or like a cornered rabbit in all your life. 

By the time you finally make your way back to the Northland Bank, hours later when the sun was sitting low on the horizon and you’d had to put your foot down about returning before dark, you practically have to drag yourself up the winding staircase just to reach the entrance. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been so tired, and not just physically but mentally as well. Childe, on the other hand, did not seem to be flagging at all and he takes the stairs with ease and that same innate grace you’d first noticed in him earlier, bounding ahead to reach the landing first. 

Assuming he’d already gone inside, you achingly pull yourself up the last few remaining steps only to come to an abrupt halt when you find him standing there with the door held open. Waiting. For you? 

He snickers at your expression, further putting you on guard. “Don’t look so surprised. It’s the least I can do after nagging you so much.” 

That was the very definition of an understatement.

You don’t budge though, slowly curling your hands into loose fists at your sides when it occurs to you that just returning to the bank did not necessarily mean an end to your suffering. Hadn’t you already endured enough? 

He was incorrigible and confusing, and more than just a little bothersome — like a too-friendly dog with an overabundance of energy that just wanted to play and have all of your attention to himself. You may have been able to make peace with that for the sake of your own wellbeing and that of your family, but when coupled with the barrage of questions that had persisted wherever in the city you’d walked together, whatever you’d stopped to point out in an attempt to distract him from his continuous questioning … you just couldn’t seem to reconcile the problem he presented in your mind.  

If not because you were nothing more than a PR ambassador, not a babysitter, then certainly because being in such close proximity with him was looking even more ill advised than it first had that afternoon. If you didn’t know any better you would have almost thought he was actually interested in you, the way he’d asked you so many personal questions about yourself. But you do know better and you’re well aware that someone like him would never want someone like you. It’s not as if you were blind. The stature of him had certainly not escaped your notice, nor had his boyish good looks. He was tall, a bit gangly at the moment, perhaps, but that was sure to change over the years as he settled further into his own body, into his muscle mass, and finished filling the rest of the way out. And even those most peculiar eyes of his weren’t enough to detract from the high cheekbones of his face or the strong jawline that framed pale pink lips. By contrast, you were soft and round, diminutive compared to him, and not at all the sort of woman a man such as him pursued in good faith. 

Of course he didn’t want you — why would he? It was laughable, if you were being honest. As much as anyone else might have been flattered and charmed to be on the receiving end of his attention, you were finding the whole thing to be a rather nightmarish experience. As if worrying about offending a powerful Harbinger had not been bad enough, now he was teasing you too … And somehow, even knowing all this, that still doesn’t stop it from hurting just a little bit. 

You’d reached the end of your rope as far as he was concerned. You couldn’t do this anymore and you refused to be the butt of his little inside jokes any longer. It was simply too much, even for you.  

“I’m going home.” You blurt out, clearly surprising him given the way his brows shoot up to disappear beneath that haphazard tousle of reddish-brown hair. “My shift ended a while ago. I just wanted to make sure you got back without getting lost, or the director would start to worry if you were late to return.” 

Childe doesn’t even try to hide his disappointment, expression falling as he unceremoniously lets go of the door so that it swings and bangs shut with a heavy thud. The Fatui guard standing on duty, Nadia, sends the two of you a slow look from the corner of her masked eye, making your cheeks grow hot. As if you really needed an audience for this. 

“Aw, don’t say that.” He wheedles you with the added bonus of a frustratingly effective puppy dog pout to really drive the nail home. “At least come in for some coffee and pyshka. I’ll ask them to make it fresh for you, so - -“

“No.” You cut across him with enough vehemence that it earns you another surprised look, those depthless ocean blue eyes widening slightly. Good. Maybe he would finally start to take you seriously now. “I do apologize, xiansheng, but I am tired and I would like to go home and rest. I’m sure your countrymen will be more than happy to entertain you for the rest of the evening, so you shouldn’t be without ample diversion in my absence.” 

He silently regards you for a long beat, the vibrant orange and red cast of the sun washing over him to set his hair aflame, glowing like a hot, smoldering ember. Somehow that same light doesn’t seem to even touch the void in his irises, though, and a faint chill races up your spine with that realization. You’d never seen anything quite like it before. 

But then his smile slips back into place and his posture relaxes — so disconcerted by his strange eyes, you hadn’t even noticed the way he’d been holding himself, as if he were poised to strike — and you quickly take a subconscious step back. For better or for worse, Childe pretends not to notice, merely lifting a hand in farewell while the other comes to rest against his hip in a casual stance. He was completely at ease again. Just like that. 

“Goodnight, then. I hope you rest well. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Every single hair on your body instantly stands on end. There wasn’t going to be a tomorrow. Not with the way he was acting. “Xiansheng, I can’t - -“

“Don’t worry. I won’t ask you to be here first thing in the morning or anything like that.” He smoothly interrupts you, his expression still pleasant and amicable but somehow … sharper. You back up another step when he shuffles forward but your back hits the edge of the bannister and you freeze, knowing the top of the staircase was not the best place to try testing your luck like this. All you can do is watch as he comes closer and closer until you finally have to tip your head back to look up at him. “You’re welcome to sleep in if you want. I’d hate to put you out, and I’ll just come pick you up if it starts getting too late.” 

You swallow hard in an attempt to lubricate your suddenly bone dry throat. “I won’t tell you where I live.” It’s barely more than a whisper, but it still gets a chuckle out of him. 

“Perhaps not, but Krzysiek certainly will. Oh, don’t make that face, girlie. I already explained it to you, didn’t I? We Harbingers carry out the Tsarista’s will and our word is almost as good as hers. Krzysiek is just trying to cover his own ass by checking in with my colleague first, but if I’d really wanted to start throwing my weight around he would have given me that mora without a fuss. Don’t assume he would shoulder the same risks just to protect a citizen of Liyue.” 

He lifts his hand then, reaching out for you with a deliberate slowness, and you jerk back. Grabbing behind you for the bannister to steady yourself before you can topple head first down the stairs, you glare up at him with as much vitriol as you could muster. “Stop calling me that.” You hiss. It’s the only thing you can think to say. You believed him. 

There was no need to ask for proof or challenge that assertion, because you wholeheartedly believed he was telling you the simple truth of the matter. The director certainly wouldn’t stick his neck out on the line for you and you knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. If appeasing him meant throwing a Liyuean girl to the proverbial wolf then that was exactly what would happen. But that doesn’t make it any easier to accept how signed and dotted your fate actually was though. 

Unperturbed, Childe retracts his hand in favor of crossing his arms over his chest instead. “So it’s a date then? I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

You don’t even dignify that with a response. Giving him a quick, bitter look, you turn and start to make your way down the staircase, gripping the bannister so tight your fingers ache in protest. You couldn’t believe him! Couldn’t believe the director for putting you in this situation in the first place. But most of all, more than anything else, you couldn’t believe you’d ever thought he was charming. The pain you’d felt at his insistent teasing was well deserved for ever being such a fool but it wouldn’t happen again. You would continue to play tour guide for as long as you were expected to, for as long as you were forced to, but he wouldn’t be getting any more laughs at your expense. 

You promise yourself that as you hit the next landing, feeling his eyes linger on your back before you disappear down the attached corridor and out of view. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The following morning you find Childe already sitting in the lobby of the bank, slouched in a chair and talking animatedly to a masked Fatuus standing next to him. You’d wanted to avoid inviting him onto your doorstep and, having no idea what he might choose to consider as ‘getting too late’, you’d set off from home at the same time you did every day. If he would’ve allowed you to treat it like any other, you would have gladly done just that. 

But as soon as he spots you coming through the door he’s up out of his seat and making a beeline straight towards you, that big, almost dopey smile already in place. You hold your ground though, offering the coppery redhead a look of pure and utter disinterest at his approach. He was not going to get under your skin today no matter what he did or said. If you were not effectively being held hostage against your will you wouldn’t have shown up at all, and you intended to make that very clear to him. 

“Good morning!” He greets you, bright and cheery, and decidedly puppy-like. “I hope you slept well. Would you like some coffee? Tea? Maybe some delicious syrniki to start your day?” 

You quirk a brow at him, a little surprised that there was nary a hint or even a sign of that imposing, dangerously uncanny side of him today, and he wasn’t offering up any apologies for it either. He was acting like nothing at all had happened when you’d last parted ways. Well. That wasn’t entirely true. He actually seemed to be … somehow even more overbearing than yesterday. You hadn’t thought it was actually possible, nor are you sure how he’s managed to find even more energy for today, but you refused to fall for it. The guy was nothing but trouble no matter how overly friendly he tried to be. 

“No, thank you.” Brushing him off, you try to move around him but he surprises you by stepping in the way to block your path. With a huff, you cross your arms and pin him with an unamused frown. “What do you want?” 

“Aww, come on. You wound me, girlie. I thought we were getting along just fine yesterday so what’s with the cold shoulder all of a sudden?” He asks, putting an emphatic hand over his heart as if his feelings were really hurt, and your hackles start to rise. 

“How many times do I have to tell you - -“

“My, my, what’s all this?” The director suddenly cuts in, appearing beside you as if he’d dissolved out of the very shadows themselves. You jump in surprise but a quick look at his pale, vaguely harassed expression tells you he’s likely been faring no better with Childe than you had. Served him right, as far as you were concerned. 

“Good morning, xiansheng Krzysiek. I was just about to go get started on that project you gave me since I didn’t have a chance to - -“

“Nonsense!” He cuts across you so forcefully it makes you snap your mouth shut with an audible click. “Of course that can wait. What’s the rush? I’m sure you’d have a much better time showing my esteemed lord around the city, no?” 

Your stomach lurches and you fix him with a vitriolic glare but he just narrows his eyes and returns the look twofold. It seemed neither one of you wanted to be responsible for Childe today and the resulting stare down between you and your boss is a statically charged one. You’d been hoping to bide some time for yourself so you wouldn’t have to spend the entire day with him, dammit.

“Well, if you ask my opinion,” Childe offers, making you bring your attention back around to him. “I think we should go get breakfast since you don’t want any of our delicious, homemade syrniki and then do a bit more sightseeing. We had a lot of fun yesterday, and there are still a few more places I’d like to go.” 

‘Fun’ was the very last thing you’d call it. In fact, there were an infinite number of things you would rather be doing besides spending more time in his presence, and throwing yourself into the ocean was right at the top of that list. But, seeing that there was no point in arguing when you were effectively trapped, you relent. “Fine. We can grab something to eat first, and then I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” 

“Excellent!” The director barks, clapping you on the shoulder a little too hard, and you turn your head to glare daggers at him. Taking the hint, he quickly composes himself with a discreet, appropriately apologetic grumble. “I do hope you two have an enjoyable time together, my lord, and please let me know if there is anything at all you need.” 

Pivoting on his heel, Childe abruptly steps right into the older man to get in his space. “What I need is for you to stop wasting my time, Krzysiek.” He murmurs, that easy, unbothered smile playing at his mouth doing absolutely nothing to distract from the hard edge in his eyes. Growing nervous now, you take a self conscious step back to put some distance between you and them. “But since that obviously isn’t going to happen, I think we’ll be off. Ready, my little pieróg?”

The director suddenly chokes and sputters, shooting a disbelieving look from one to the other even as you suspiciously narrow your eyes at Childe. Something told you you liked this new nickname even less than ‘girlie’. “Now what are you calling me?” 

“Oh, nothing,” he teases, his demeanor flipping just like that as he reaches out to take hold of your arm even when you valiantly try to snatch it out of his reach. “That, as they say, is for me to know and for you to find out. You’ll have to earn it if you want me to tell you though!” 

And with that, the two of you are off. 

Breakfast at a little stall tucked down a narrow side street turns out to be surprisingly pleasant. Shockingly, even. You admittedly feel a great deal of relief when Childe manages to keep his hands to himself for the rest of the morning and he even seems to have given up on the previous day's inquisition all together. He neither says anything out of place nor does he undergo another of those disconcerting shifts in his behavior. Rather, he is consistent and charming again, as if that offputting display in front of the Northland Bank never even happened. Like it was merely a figment of your imagination and nothing more. 

You know better than that though, and you weren’t going to be persuaded by it. Luckily, keeping him entertained was a relatively easy task so you don’t even have to try very hard to keep things moving. After your meal, you take him to the theater hall to show him where the opera is hosted and even get a chance to introduce him to a few of the staff members who were setting up for a performance later in the evening. He does catch you off guard though when he suddenly asks about seeing the show together, not having expected him to have any such interest in the performing arts. But when you tell him it’s too late to purchase tickets when they were in such high demand he, strangely enough, accepts that answer without a fuss. 

You think it all very strange given how he’d acted yesterday — as if the world itself was his to lay claim to and everyone was expected to just go along with it — but you were certainly not in any position to complain. The more he cooperated the better your nerves would fare. 

From there, you take him to a ceramics shop, a bookstore, a calligraphy studio, a toy makers stall and even to a small perfumer after he’d mentioned having an older sister he might want to buy a souvenir for. He truly seems like a completely different person today, politely listening to what you tell him about this or that, attentively focused and tuned in. You’re ashamed to say it almost makes your resolve falter but you hold firm. After that, a lacquer studio, various boutiques and seamstress shops, a few antique stores that quickly prove much too dusty and boring for his liking. You stop for lunch at Third Round Knockout, enjoy some fine food and entertainment together, and then it’s back to the streets. At his request, you take him down to the docks and show him around the markets there, only to realize somewhere along the line that he must have some kind of background in fishing. The way he talks about it, fond yet distant, like an old hobby he might like to revisit some day, strikes an odd little chord inside you. You hadn’t expected him to have room for sentimentality when he was so busy bouncing around from one extreme to the next. 

The day wears on in this fashion until you at last take him up to the Yujing Terrace gardens, having saved (what was in your humble opinion) the best for last. Childe appears to appreciate the scenery well enough, oohing and aahing at appropriate intervals as you show him through the public grounds, but you can tell he found the docks much more exciting. Hardly any wonder there. A hot blooded young man such as himself rarely had any need for flowers or ornamental fountains, decorative lanterns or the architecture laid throughout. You got the sense he didn’t dislike the pavilion, exactly, but rather he just wasn’t as invested in it as he might be in other things … and yet he was still trying to stay engaged and interested. Truthfully, you found this more than just a little odd. You’d taken him for an entitled brat, and with good reason. 

But the whole situation was strange once you got right down to the heart of it, and you’re understandably glad to finally start making your way back towards the bank shortly after dusk has settled over the gardens and the lamps have been lit. Unlike the previous day where you’d had to all but force him to return before full dark, he acquiesces without a fuss or even any attempt to weasel another half hour out of you. Even putting his penchant for cruel tricks aside, it was almost like you’d spent the whole day with a completely different person than the one you’d first met and this was somehow the most confounding detail of all. At some point you’d started to think he was planning something insidious, just waiting for the right moment to spring the trap, so you had truly expected him to put up more of a fight about it. 

So lost in thought, you don’t realize he’s speaking until he shifts close enough to amicably bump your hip with his narrow thigh. Giving a start, you turn your head up only to find a suspiciously eager smile tugging at his rouge’s mouth and you think, this is it. He’s finally going to say something cute or shocking after all this time and, feeling vindicated, you brace yourself for another taste of his nonsense. You’d known he enjoyed provocation too much to resist the temptation forever. 

“I was saying thank you for today. You make a pretty good tour guide, if you ask me.”

You stumble a step, feeling like the ground itself is opening up underneath you to swallow you whole. That hadn’t been what you’d expected him to say at all. “You’re welcome,” you respond slowly, mouth tugging into a frown. “But there really isn’t any reason to thank me. I was just fulfilling my duties, that’s all.” 

“Aww, don’t say that. You did a great job despite all the trouble I’ve given you so I’d say credit is due. No need to be shy.” 

Heat rushes to your cheeks and you quickly look away. “I am not being shy, xiansheng. I just have no need for your praise.” 

“Oho. Is that so, girlie?” 

You suck in a sharp breath, prickling at that insufferable name he insisted on calling you every time you turned around, but you don’t get the chance to snap at him. Before you can utter so much as a word, his hand is suddenly on your wrist and he’s pulling you away from the main, bustling street into a cramped little alley. Your heart stutters a beat but you can’t quite seem to dig your heels into the ground when his forward momentum seemed to be in full swing, so you just inelegantly trip after him with a tiny squawk of protest. 

Finally stopping towards the far end of the path, Childe turns to grin down at you. Issuing an incensed huff into the still air, you give your arm a quick jerk to try and free yourself of his hold but it’s no good. He refused to budge, and you have no choice but to give up, pinning him with a look of pure exasperation. 

“What are you doing now, xiansheng? This isn’t the way to the bank.” 

“I know, I know. I just wanted to properly show how grateful I really am to my cute little tour guide. You just said you’re not shy, didn’t you?” 

Catching on that he was up to something — for real this time — you once again try to extricate your arm from him. Gingerly, this time. “I’m afraid I don’t know what that has to do with this. I think we should go back to the bank and - -“

He suddenly swoops down and silences you with a hard kiss. You jolt, gasping when his fingers tighten around your wrist to make it clear that there would be no escape until he decided to let you go. That hardly seemed the most pressing issue right now, though. Stock still, you just stand there and try to make sense of what’s happening. The sensation of his mouth against yours, his warm breath mingling with your own and the vaguely citrusy scent of him assaulting you all at once. It was just as overwhelming as the rest of him and you can’t figure out how to react. Finally, eventually, he pulls back to peer at you through the gloom of night, far from the dull glow of the distant streetlights. 

“I know you’ve thought about this. You’re so cute, the way I catch you looking at my - -“

Your free hand flies up, hitting him across the mouth as hard as you can. The gruff sound that bursts out of him is surprised, but not half as hurt as you would have liked it to be. 

“How dare you.” Your voice is a barely there, faltering hiss in the relative quiet with only the distant sounds of city life to act as a backdrop. “I’ve thought of no such thing, and you’ve got a lot of nerve trying to force yourself on me like that!” 

The look that briefly flashes across his face seems almost impressed, if not a little cowed by your reaction, and for a split second you’re sure he’s going to rise to the challenge you’ve presented. But then it’s gone just as quickly as it had appeared, replaced once again by that overly confident smile. “Oh, come on. You don’t mean that. I can see how you look at me. I’m not blind, you know.”

“I’m allowed to look at someone without wanting to kiss them!” You insist, vehemently shoving at his chest. 

To your great surprise, he actually lets you push him back a step and he releases your arm in the process. You quickly take that chance to back up towards the waiting lip of the alley but he follows you with his eyes, a predator tracking its prey, and you hesitate to make a run for it. One quick look at his long legs assures you he could outpace you all too easily. You’d never make it far against someone like him and the eager gleam dancing in those strange, strange eyes discourages you from trying. That didn’t mean you had to quietly stand there while he played his stupid little games though, and all at once the dam suddenly gives way. 

“I've had enough!” You shout at him. “I refuse to entertain you at the cost of my own dignity any longer, xiansheng! You have done nothing but harass me the entire time I’ve known you and I am done! I’m sorry, but you’ll need to find a new guide for the rest of your stay in Liyue because I refuse to do it even a moment longer.” 

“But I want you.” He shoots right back, surprisingly calm and collected given the intense state of your own emotions which only spiral further out of control at his response. 

The true meaning behind those words was obvious, and you feel the stab of it in startling high definition. Fighting back the sting of tears when a humiliated flush rushes into your cheeks, you glare at him with as much hate and vitriol as you can possibly muster. “I will not fall for it no matter what you say, xiansheng! I’m not stupid! You can have your fun teasing someone else for all I care, but I will not humor it anymore!” 

His eyes widen, brows shooting up in surprise. “Wait - -“ 

You have no interest in hearing what he has to say, quickly turning on your heel so you can march down the alley and out onto the main street again. Consequences be damned. 

Predictably, the shuffle of his boots picks up behind you and it doesn’t take long for him to catch up. The way he can easily keep pace with your hurried strides without even having to try only further annoys you but you pointedly ignore him, keeping your attention locked straight ahead. Maybe he would take the hint and leave you alone if you just pretended like he wasn’t there. 

“Hey, let’s talk, girlie. You don’t really think I was just joking around back there, do you?” When you refuse to dignify that with a response, he breathes out a quiet sigh. “Look, I’m sure I can convince you I’m being sincere if you just give me a chance, but why would you assume something like that to begin with? I haven’t given you any reason not to trust me, have I?” 

You shoot him a quick, flustered look of warning, and, to your horror, he responds with that charming, roguish smile that speaks of confidence and ego. It was clear he thought he could persuade you to his side with enough time and you weren’t so sure he was wrong about that. 

Whipping your attention back around, you desperately scan your surroundings in an attempt to get your bearings straight. You weren’t far from the Northland Bank now. Thank the archons. If you could just make it to the relative safety of its doors, you could dump him off on someone else for the night and beat a hasty retreat with your tail tucked between your legs. It certainly felt like you deserved that much after enduring all this grief from him.  

“It doesn’t matter.” You murmur, more to yourself than to him, but that doesn’t stop Childe from pouncing at the chance to keep going. 

“Sure it does. I think I deserve to know why my cute tour guide feels this way. Is there someone I need to take care of for you?” 

Finally spotting the stairwell that leads up to the bank, you hurry towards it as fast as your legs can carry you. He doggedly keeps at your heels, looming just over your shoulder the whole time, which does absolutely nothing to lessen the fast pumping adrenaline coursing through your system. 

It feels like your heart is lodged somewhere in your throat when you finally reach the foot of the stairs a moment later and, gripping the bannister with a clammy hand, you pause to look back at him. “There’s not. You can stop following me now.”

“We’re headed to the same place, I’m afraid.” He responds easily enough, still smiling that infuriating grin at you. Stamping down the urge to scream at the top of your lungs, you turn to make your way up and the procession of his footsteps trailing behind you quickly follows suit. “Seriously, I don’t mean to pry but - -“

“Yes, you do.” 

He laughs, but just keeps going anyway. “I want to know why you’d be so quick to write me off like that, that’s all. Am I not allowed to want you in my bed or something?” 

You outright choke at that, practically collapsing right then and there on the stairwell, and he positively whoops it up as if you’d just delivered the most hilarious, knee-slapping joke he’s ever heard. Your face feels like it’s on fire now while you wrestle with the urge to slap him again, thinking he more than deserved it, but you didn’t want to tempt fate like that again if you could help it. Or invite any misunderstandings with the Snezhnayan guard on duty, just another flight up and almost directly above you now. It takes every ounce of strength you possess but, at last, you finally manage to hiss over your shoulder, “Maybe I’m just not interested. Did you even consider that?” 

“Ah, ah, that’s not what you said though. If memory serves, I do believe the exact words you used were ‘I won’t fall for it no matter what you say’. You don’t think I was being serious, do you?” 

Teeth clenched, you turn to look back at him again and you’re not at all surprised to find him still grinning like he was having the time of his life. But once again, and just like every other time, his eyes give him away. It seemed that no matter what he did, they would always show an intimate glimpse into his soul and what you see in them now chills you a great deal. There’s an edge to them, a sharpness lurking just beneath the surface like a blade that has been submerged in a tumultuous ocean current. It was no less sharp for all the salt water buffeting against it though. In fact, you got the sense that it would only add to the sting of the wound once it finally cut you — and it would. Eventually. You harbored no doubts about that. 

Evidently seeing your uncertain hesitancy, Childe softens his expression slightly, as much as he was able to, at least, and moves up to stand on the same step as you. Fingers tightening on the bannister, you lean as far back as you can when he bends close to put his nose inches from yours. You’re sure he’s going to kiss you again, and the thought alone is enough to make your cheeks burn red hot in what you try to tell yourself is indignation. But, to your surprise, he merely studies you up close for a long moment before finally putting his head to one side like an inquisitive dog. 

“Let’s continue this discussion inside.” 

“What is there to even talk about?” You grit out. 

“You,” he says it softly, almost like a prayer. “And me.” 

“This isn’t up for debate, xiansheng. I want nothing more to do with you.” 

The corner of his mouth tugs, inching up into a decidedly mischievous smirk. “You say that, but do you really want Nadia to get the wrong idea? I’m sure she can hear us, you know. It’ll look much better if you come inside with me instead of causing a scene out here on the stairs. I don’t know what she might tell Krzysiek but if you cooperate, I can protect you.” 

“Blackmailing is illegal in Liyue …” 

“As it is in Snezhnaya. But the Fatui operate on a somewhat different rule set, and I’d hate to see you get tangled up in this more than you already are. There’s nothing I can do for you if you don’t meet me in the middle, girlie. Let me help you.” 

You search his face for any sign of deceit or falsehoods, desperately looking for even a hint of insincerity that would give you the push you needed to shove him away again. But he is, frustratingly enough, perfectly sincere. Or so he seems to be. And that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it? In the short time you had known him, he’d consistently maintained that same perfect mask of earnest candor no matter what nonsense came out of his mouth … he was either a very good actor who could put most professionals to shame or he really believed what he was saying. Perhaps even a frustrating combination of the two? 

Either way, you could see that you were once again stuck between a rock and a hard place with him. You were damned if you did and damned if you didn’t. It’s been like this since the very start. 

“Fine.” You relent with a heavy, long suffering sigh. “I will go inside with you but I really don’t care what you have to say, xiansheng. You’ll just be wasting your breath.” 

Evidently that doesn’t bother him one little bit. He’s much too giddy for your liking as he bounds ahead of you, taking the last handful of stairs two at a time so he can reach the landing first. You realize why when, upon coming up after him, you find Childe waiting at the front entrance of the bank with his fingers already wrapped around the door handle, ready to pull it open for you and grant you entry. Same as the night before.  

Surreptitiously glancing at the Snezhnayan woman standing on nighttime guard duty, you’re relieved to find her pretending not to even see either of you standing there. Although she certainly was not on your side in the strictest sense, you still appreciated her discretion. Perhaps if you survived this ordeal, you would treat her to lunch someday as thanks. 

Gathering your resolve before you have a chance to change your mind, you quickly shuffle across the landing, hoping to get inside before he says something incriminating in front of her. The Harbinger looks quite pleased with himself as he pulls the door open and lets you pass through first before following right on your heels. You’re immensely glad to find the lobby all but deserted save the one on duty teller and the older man quietly talking to her about something you can’t quite make out from the entryway. No sign of Krzysiek lurking about in the shadows or any Fatui operatives loitering around. At least that would save you the embarrassment of having an audience to witness the no doubt awkward conversation that was sure to follow. Strangely, that didn’t make you feel any better about being forced to do this, though. 

Discreetly glancing up at the redhead as you make your way across the room together, you contemplatively regard him for a moment. Maybe you could still worm your way out of this situation if you appealed to his ego enough. It was worth a shot, at least. 

“Forgive me, xiansheng. I believe I misspoke earlier.” You murmur, hushed and quiet so that hopefully only he could hear. “I did not mean to insult you or imply that there was some deeper meaning in my rejection. I promise I meant nothing more.” 

“I don’t buy that for one second, girlie.” He says, thankfully matching your conspiratorial volume. “You really think I was just teasing you back there, right? You called it a game, if I remember correctly. Why would you go and think something like that about me, huh?” 

You chew at your bottom lip, weighing the odds. It didn’t exactly look good, no, but neither had the last thirty-six hours. If you gave in now and admitted the real reason for your distrust of his motivations you would simply be putting yourself on the chopping block, inviting further humiliation at his hand, and you weren’t so sure you were ready to admit your own shortcomings like that. But there was no denying his abilities of perception or his quick wit. If you tried to delicately skirt around the subject, would he just try to force your hand? 

So caught up in your own thoughts, debating between the truth or another attempt at deception, you don’t notice him slyly reaching for you until it’s too late. The weight of his hand abruptly squeezing around the plush of your waist nearly startles a squawk out of you, and you choke on it when he pulls you against him. Ignoring your incoherent blubbering, Childe tucks you into his side so he can pull you along even when your legs threaten to give out under you, turning you into deadweight against him. 

All at once you’re bombarded by a million, frantic thoughts as the scent of him envelopes you and drowns out your senses. What if someone were to see the two of you like this? What if they assumed you’d be willing to betray your homeland for this troublesome Snezhnayan man? And what if word of this got back to your mother? You’d be disowned by morning! 

But he pays no mind at all to the shy, flustered stammering going on under your breath as he steers you right past the front desk toward the stairs that are tucked off to the side. You feel faint with disbelief when the teller seems to pointedly keep her attention fixed on the man she’s speaking to and doesn’t even glance up at the spectacle when you pass. A heady rush of relief washes over you but, still, your erratic heartbeat won’t relax as long as you’re in such close proximity with Childe. No matter how good he smelled or how warm his body was, or how firm and invitingly masculine he felt against you, you just couldn’t make peace with it in your mind. 

You try to push away from him, politely at first and then more insistently, but he won’t let you go. Doesn’t even seem to register the weak struggle you’re putting up which leaves you with no choice but to stumble along beside him up the staircase and then down the curved hall. It was either that or risk having him physically drag you. 

“X - xiansheng!” You hiss at him, of course to no avail. 

“Hush. If you’d just tell me what the problem is, I could fix it for you.” He tells you lightly, giving your waist what you think is supposed to be a reassuring pinch. “I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to put your pretty little head at ease, you can count on that.” 

“You could start by knocking that off!” You give him another shove that goes completely unheeded. On one hand you were glad to be away from any potentially prying eyes now that you were up on the second floor, but on the other … you give a frightened jerk when it suddenly occurs to you that he’s leading you right past the row of smaller managerial offices (including your own) and further down the hall. “Wait — where are we going?” 

“Don’t try to change the subject.” He snickers softly. “We’re just gonna’ have a little chat in my office, that’s all. We’ll get to the bottom of this, don’t you worry!”

As if that was your main concern right now! “B - but that’s not your office, xiansheng! That room is for the - -“

“Yes, it belongs to Regrator. I’m well aware, of course, but I’m sure he won’t mind. It’s not like he’s using it right now, is he?” Pulling you up to the door in question, he reaches for the knob. All you can do is watch on in horror as he gives it a twist and the resounding click of the inner mechanism giving way echoes inside the space between your ears. You almost couldn’t believe it. Both his unrepentant audacity and the fact he’d already gained access to the owner's personal office space. 

“But how - -“

“Come on, girlie. Where do you think I slept last night?” 

You’re so dumbfounded by that information you momentarily forget to protest or fight him, and you stumble through the doorway under the ever present guidance of his hand around your middle without even fully realizing it. Only when the door creaks shut behind you do you comprehend the severity of the situation, going ramrod stiff as you dig your heels into the floorboards, but he merely pushes you further in before you can kick up a fight about it. With a sudden burst of adrenaline, you wrench away from him and spin around to find Childe already turning the lock on the door with a resounding clink of metal sliding into place. The way he smiles at you, all bright and cheerful, and innocent, turns your veins to ice. 

“Now fess up. I’ve let you stall long enough, haven’t I?” He takes a step towards you, hands coming up as if to grab hold of you again, and yours fly up to defend yourself. It’s as if he expected as much though, or maybe his reflexes were really just that quick, because he switches gears faster than you can blink. Lacing his fingers through yours before you can properly react, he pulls your arms out to either side and backs you up even further into the room. “Tell me why you think I’m only teasing you. I made sure no one would eavesdrop on us so tell the truth.” 

You jolt when your back hits the stately, imposing desk in the office, a fresh surge of fear racing through you with all the thoughts of what he could do to you like this. But to your immense relief he simply pivots to the side, half turning you to stand in front of it rather than pin you against it like you’d initially thought he would. Still, he won’t let go of your hands where he’s holding them out away from your body and you were clearly trapped in here with him and no way out. Dammit. 

Drawing a slow, stuttering breath to calm your nerves, you decide you’ll just have to be blunt with him. Even if it means humiliating yourself in the process, you couldn’t see any other way out of this. Clearly he wasn’t going to let you slink away with your tail tucked between your legs or let you preserve any of your dignity. Not that it came as a surprise considering who you were dealing with but that doesn’t make it hurt any less. 

“I’m sorry, xiansheng. I just … I know I can’t possibly be to your liking. That is what I meant by not falling for your tricks.” 

“Who said that?” He growls, drawing a quiet whimper out of you. 

“It doesn’t need to be said.” 

“Bullshit. Tell me why it’s so impossible for me to want you.” 

“Because I’m fat.” You say it plainly and without inflection, but softer than a whisper, and his eyes go big in surprise. 

“What’s wrong with that?” 

You hate the way your chest tightens, flushing hot in humiliation. You hadn’t expected the sting to your ego to hurt quite so bad when you knew you were merely stating the truth. Maybe it’s the simple act of saying it out loud that drives the nail home or perhaps it’s the way he’s looking at you as if he couldn’t possibly conceive the issue with it, but the backs of your eyes start to burn all the same. Looking at him like this, in the gloom of the dark office, you start to wonder if it’s so painful precisely because you secretly wanted his interest in you to be real, not feigned. Was there really no greater anguish than having a strong, handsome man flirt with you while knowing you weren’t deserving of any of it? You certainly couldn’t think of anything worse. 

“What’s wrong with it is - is men like you don’t like that. I’m not stupid, xiansheng. There are plenty of women who …” You give your head a shake. “It doesn’t matter. You could do much better than me, and I know that just as well as you do.” 

He relaxes his broad shoulders, chuckling faintly as he pins you with a rueful if not taunting look. “Men like me, huh?”

“T - there’s no reason to deny it.”

“Oh?” Childe’s smile sharpens, showing a brief glimpse of the dangers lurking just beneath the surface. “And what else do you know of men like me? Hm?” 

You whimper softly and he gives your hands a quick squeeze before releasing them in favor of reaching tentatively for your waist again. You simply let him do it this time; half in defeat and just wanting to get this over with, and half under the assumption that he would finally drop the act and recoil in disgust at the soft give under his palms. But that’s not quite what happens. 

On the contrary, he actually looks rather pleased as his large hands comfortably settle around your middle like they belonged there. Possessive, almost. 

“I don’t know who made you believe such nonsense but I’ll happily take a list of names though, if you find the time to jot them down for me. But I’m afraid we don’t all think the same way, cutie. I’ve been daydreaming about having you under me since we met.” 

You suck in a sharp breath, still somehow shocked by the outrageous things that come out of his mouth even now. “But you could have anyone.” It’s little more than a whisper. 

“And like I said, I want you.” 

Swallowing hard, you lift your hands to lightly rest them on his forearms. You can’t decide if you want to push him away or pull him in closer, so you just leave them sitting there for right now. “I don’t understand why though.” 

“I could show you.” 

You don’t know what to say to that. Aren’t even sure if you could respond to it without choking on whatever you may have said, because he was brash and provocative, and more than just a little combative, and you weren’t used to dealing with someone like him. What could you possibly say that wouldn’t make you sound like a stammering ninny?

But he evidently takes your continued silence as his cue to proceed, and he slowly palms his way up your sides until blunt thumbs brush the underside of your breasts. A shudder races down your spine at that much too brief contact and you whimper again, louder this time, when he adjusts his hands to cradle your chest in them. His attention remains locked on your face though, intently observing the way your mouth warbles open as if to let out a tiny, faltering mewl but you stubbornly bite it back. Turning your head so you don’t have to look at him any longer, you raise a hand to cover your mouth when he pushes up, lifting your tits slightly, so he can feel the full brunt of them resting in the curve of his fingers. 

You’re ashamed to realize it felt nice having him paw at you like this, your nipples growing stiff and pointed against the brush of his hands. It makes your stomach curl itself into a tight, pulsing knot that has your knees going weak. Grudgingly, you think it might be okay to let this go on for a little while longer. Hesitantly, you have to accept that perhaps you liked him a bit more than you were willing to admit or let on. 

That mental shift must reflect in your expression though because he suddenly grins at you, all mischief and trouble. 

“These are my favorite.” He tells you softly, almost like he was sharing a precious secret with you. Giving your breasts another slow, kneading squeeze to make you sway slightly on your feet, he bends closer until just a scant few inches remain between you and him. “The bigger the better, don’t you think? What else is a man supposed to rest his head on at night? What else should we suck and lick, and bite on until your milk floods our mouths, hm? You seem to know an awful lot about men, so tell me … what would you have us do if not worship the very fertility you represent?” 

Dragging his hands higher, he lets your breasts bounce back into place under your shirt and he watches with a great deal of interest etched across his face. You have to force your lungs to expand, inhaling painfully slow to try and steady yourself. A very real part of you was still anticipating the pin to fall, for him to realize this game of chicken wasn’t worth it and to finally drop the farce, but that wasn’t happening. You were suddenly finding yourself faced with the very real possibility that he wasn’t just running his mouth with no intention of backing it up. He really did want you. He thought you were attractive — innately drawn to your figure, not put off by it. 

And he would have you, right here and now, if you just gave him the chance. 

Childe reaches for the button on your collar with clear, deliberate intent, giving you ample time to rethink this and tell him to stop. But you let him work the first one loose and then the next, and the next, so on and so forth until your shirt was hanging open down to the waistband of your skirt. He grabs at your middle to ruck it up and possessively pinch at your love handles underneath before finally grabbing onto the hem to untuck it the rest of the way. You’re a little surprised at yourself when you lift your arms to help him get it off, but you start to have second thoughts when the cool air hits the front of your silk chemise. 

Feeling uncertain and exposed, you cross your arms over your chest to hide your stiff nipples from his line of sight. He tsk’s softly as he tosses your shirt somewhere on the desk before taking hold of your wrists, gentle yet firm as he moves them out of the way. You can’t quite bring yourself to look him in the face though, self conscious and afraid of what you might see there, so you glance down at yourself instead. The weight of your breasts under the thin, breezy material is obvious, as are the stiff points sticking out in the center of them. You may as well have not even been wearing anything at all. 

With a quiet sound, he seems to reach the same conclusion. He releases your hands so he can slip his fingers underneath the thin shoulder straps and lift that over your head too. You have a split second of thinking you’ll back out after all, that you’re not prepared to have someone as tall and handsome as him looking at your naked body, but the roiling heat deep in your gut seems to have a differing opinion. The thought of walking away from this and going home to an empty bed brings with it a great deal of distress, so you slowly repeat the same arms up motion as before. 

Childe lets out a breath you hadn’t realized he’d been holding as the silk slips away and your naked breasts are finally bared to him. That gets tossed on the desk too and then his hands are on you again, groping and squeezing at you appreciatively with renewed excitement. “These are gorgeous.” He breathes. 

“Y - you don’t mean that.” You whimper, desperately glancing around the dark room for something to focus on that isn’t him. 

“I do.” He insists, and his lips are suddenly on the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at the vulnerable skin there between hot, rushed sentiments. “I really do. You have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” 

You feel well and truly lightheaded when he once again palms your breasts in his hands, lifting their weight the same as before. But this time he allows his thumbs to brush up, and you outright gasp at the first contact to your nipples. The noise he makes in response sounds suspiciously like a growl and it reverberates in your veins, making you shudder against him. He takes his time casually flicking over the stiffened buds for a moment longer before pressing your tits together and leaning back to admire the meaty squish. Abruptly, he lets go and watches the heavy bounce of them before setting his sights on your waist instead. 

“Archons, you’re perfect.” He groans, digging his fingers deep into the cushiony give around your middle. “I want to fold you in half on top of that desk, you know that? How’s that sound? Huh?” 

Your mouth warbles open, cheeks burning up. “Xi - xiansheng - -!”

He stoops down to press his face against your neck, growling again, a little louder this time, and you jolt when he blindly fumbles to grab one of your wrists. With a bit more force than was probably necessary, he drags your fingers to the front of his pants and manually curls them around the weighty bulge there. Your eyes widen in stark surprise, not at the size of him but, rather, at how very hard he is for you. He’s indescribably heavy against your hand, and stiff enough to strain the zipper holding him back. 

“You want this, cutie?” 

Like you really needed to think about it at this point. “I … I do. I want you, xiansheng.” 

Breathing deep the scent of your neck, he lets it out again with a bestial huff that makes goosebumps erupt across your skin. It takes a visible amount of effort for him to unlatch himself from you, reaching to unfasten the single button done up on his jacket. This he carelessly shrugs out of and tosses to the side, eyeing you with a hungry lick of his lips before stepping into you again to take hold of your waist. It doesn’t escape your notice that he seems to be fascinated with this part of you, the way he insists on continuously grabbing and squeezing it in his hands, but you don’t get a chance to comment on it. 

He’s pulling you against him then, all but flattening you against the hard line of his body, and you suck in a sharp, frazzled breath at the press of his cock against your stomach. Never before had you found yourself in this sort of position so you don’t really know what to do, standing there just breathing him in while he yanks at the hidden latch on your skirt. You think you should be doing something, should probably be reciprocating in some way, but your overloaded brain just can’t seem to make sense of it. 

Luckily, he takes care of the decision making for you. Once the band of your skirt is hanging loose around your waist, he lifts his hand to nudge it under your chin and tip your head back. You have but a split second to realize he’s going to kiss you, and then he’s devouring your mouth, kissing you much harder and much more forcefully than he had in the alley. You realize now, as you succumb to the hungry pull of his lips, that he’d only been testing the waters earlier. He was far from normal if that had been his idea of tentative and, evidently, you were just as crazy for entertaining it. 

Greedy hands roam down your body, grabbing tight, pinching handfuls of your sides and your hips before dipping lower still. Childe takes hold of your ass like a starved man grabbing onto a lifeline and you rock forward on your toes with a muffled little squeak. He gladly swallows it down even as he kneads and pinches, rolling the meat of your backside in his palms. It’s just shy of being too much, toeing the line of discomfort, and you blindly reach back to clutch at his powerful wrist. Of course that doesn’t stop him though, and you suck in a much needed lungful of air when he finally pulls back some moments later. 

He doesn’t even give you a chance to catch your breath, quickly swooping down to shimmy your skirt over your hips so you can step out of it. You expect him to go after your garters next so he can get you completely undressed, telling yourself to relax and just breathe while you could, but nothing is ever that simple when it comes to Childe. 

To your squawking surprise, he grabs you around the waist yet again and suddenly hauls you up to perch on the edge of the desk. You can’t even think straight as he bullies your thighs apart with his narrow hips so he can settle between them, pressing himself tight against you. Unable to hold it back any longer with the weight of his cock digging into you and the hard muscle mass of his chest right in your face, you reach up to loop your arms over his shoulders with a needy little mewl. Grunting in approval, he bends at the waist to hunch over you so he can take a nipping bite at your neck and then your ear while his arms snake around you. For as deceptively gangly as they are, the strength in them is staggering and he practically crushes you against him, firmly holding you in place so he can slowly grind up into your core. 

Delirious, you frantically clutch at him when every stilted push of his cock against your panties only seems to highlight how wet you already were for him. That in and of itself would have been inconceivable not even twenty minutes ago, but somehow even worse is how that sedate, repetitive motion of his hips just seems to encourage yet more sticky slick out of your cunt. You can feel it bleeding into your panties, leaving them increasingly damp, and you grimace when they soon start to stick to your labia. 

“Xi - xiansheng! Wait a second …” 

“How do you expect me to wait after all this time, girlie? Huh?” Snarling against your neck, Childe leans further into you and uses his weight to push you back, tipping your pussy towards him. You cling to his shoulders, whimpering and whining low in your throat as he increases the pace, humping into you with even greater enthusiasm than before. “Wanna’ know what’s funny?” He laughs, breathless and hot against the side of your face. “I actually expected you to tell me a completely different answer earlier. You really caught me off guard, you know?” 

Legs quivering around his hips, you dig your nails into his back and tip your head up, gasping at the ceiling. You felt dizzy and hot enough to burn. Was he really going to make you cum, just with this? “Like — ahhn! Like what?” 

Dragging his hands down to grip your plushy hips, Childe shifts against you to look in your face. His eyes were strange and unsettling even now when you felt like you were going to shake right off the desk if he kept digging his cock into you like that, but there was something else in them now … something far removed from the light of day but no less blinding. It was like looking at ice fire — so dark and blue, yet hotter than any normal flame could ever hope to burn. You weren’t sure if you were looking into a vast, bottomless trench under the sea or the very sky itself, so deep and fathomless it would swallow you whole without a trace, never to be seen again, but it doesn’t really seem to matter anymore. You would gladly give yourself over to the void, drown in its oceanic embrace, so long as he kept looking at you like that. 

“Tell me.” You gasp when he doesn’t immediately respond. 

“I thought you were going to tell me I was too young for you.” He suddenly says, surprising you so much you have to do a double take. 

“What?” 

Laughing, he gives his hips one last, lingering roll that has you biting down on your tongue to silence yourself as he unhurriedly moves to extricate himself from you. 

“All that fuss you were making, it was the only thing I could think of. I know you were worried about my title and I probably didn’t help that very much when we parted ways last night … but still, you refused to have me even after I went out of my way to show you I’m just a man. Albeit a supremely powerful one but,” Shrugging as if it didn’t really matter, Childe bends over your lap to start unhooking the clasps holding your stockings up. He’s surprisingly gentle and patient with such a benign task and you let him do it without intervention, even when your pussy clenches at the sight of him half naked and focused on the task of undressing you. “I figured you just didn’t think I was mature enough or something like that. Not that that wasn’t bad enough but I certainly didn’t expect your real reason.”

You start to say his name but catch yourself at the last second. “Xiansheng …” You say instead. “It’s true that I’m older than you but it’s not that big of a difference from my perspective. I don’t think you’re immature. Well, not in that way, at least.” 

“Oh, is that so?” Sending you a slow, mischievous little grin, he slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts to slowly slide them down over your thighs, leaving the garter and stockings in place. “Good to hear it. Because I’m prepared to show you just what I’m capable of, and I have no intention of leaving this room until you understand exactly what kind of man I am.” 

Eyes widening slightly, you watch him pull your underwear free from your ankles so he can carelessly toss them somewhere on the floor. Those big, battle hardened hands slide up your inner thighs and roughly shove them apart so he can swoop down, dragging the flat of his tongue through your wet cunt without so much as a word of warning. You jolt so hard you nearly come right up off the desk, a startled ‘oh!’ bursting out of your mouth. He pays it no mind though, keeping your legs spread wide as he devours you, swirling around your entrance to taste the excessive slick accumulated there before directing his mouth higher to knock against your clit. It’s all you can do not to shriek, chest heaving as you jerk and twist against him. 

“Wait —!” 

Coming up off your cunt with an obnoxiously loud slurp and a smack of his lips, Childe gives a breathless laugh. “There’s no time for that, girlie. Today you’re going to learn how a real man handles a woman like you.” 

With a low, hungry snarl, he dives back in and your hand instinctively shoots down to grab at his hair. He pays it no mind though — in fact, he actually appears to enjoy it. Groaning hotly against your pussy, he presses his cheek to one side so he can batter your clit with his tongue, making your toes tightly curl in their little heels. The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before; intense and overwhelming, indescribably sticky and wet, and hot, and it doesn’t take long for you to start shaking in earnest. 

Unable to sit up any longer when the tremors threaten to overpower you, you slowly sink back to lay across the top of the desk but he just follows you down. Shuffling closer so he’s bent nearly in two over your cunt, Childe possessively grabs at your thighs so he can toss them over his shoulders and lock you in place. Having your legs up in the air like this is somehow both deeply embarrassing and indescribably arousing at the same time, and you writhe like some mindless beast while he eats you out. Your fingers in his hair start to cramp but you refuse to let him go when it felt like the only thing keeping you grounded to reality anymore. 

You quickly lose the fight though when he slides his hands up your thighs, over the pudge of your belly and higher still to grab your breasts. His long fingers dig in, squeezing them tight enough to hurt before redirecting his attention to your nipples. The way he pinches and rolls them has you arching hard enough to make the desk groan underneath you, legs clenching around his head in an attempt to block him out for even just a moment's reprieve. It’s a losing battle though. He’s as dauntless as ever, and he just keeps working you over with his mouth even when your thighs threaten to crush or suffocate him. 

Blindly, you claw at his wrists and forearms but it is much too late. The scale starts to tip and you feel yourself desperately clinging to the edge, scared of that free fall and what it would mean even as you give your hips one last, pitiful jerk. Just like that, the chord snaps and you plunge into the void, pussy clenching so tight over the course of your orgasm that it actually brings tears to your eyes. Your whole body seems to roil with it, wildly twitching as you choke back your moans until only quiet, gasping mewls manage to escape, but somehow it still isn’t enough. 

You’re not sure when or how it happened, but at some point you’d come to realize that Childe’s mouth on you was perhaps the greatest feeling in the world, and you desperately wanted more of it.  

“Please!” You hiss, blubbering faintly when he starts to untangle himself from you. 

“Well, well,” he taunts, clearly pleased with himself as he straightens up. “I’d say you rather enjoyed that, wouldn’t you? Who would have thought the prim and proper ambassador of the Northland Bank was so needy?” 

Groaning softly in the back of your throat, you cover your face with a still trembling hand and press your thighs together now that he’s not occupying the space between them. You didn’t know whether to beg for more of his attention or cry from embarrassment. Both options seemed perfectly reasonable in this situation, and you finally settle on some combination of the two. 

“I’ve never felt like this before, xiansheng. I'm sorry.” You let out a sound that is half sob, half groan. “My body is on fire but I — I still want you to keep touching me. I don’t really know what I’m doing but I want more. I need more of you.” 

Childe snickers softly, and the sound of him shuffling close again has your heart threatening to jackhammer straight out of your chest. “Aww. Well, when you put it so nicely …” 

His hands find your hips again, giving them a savory squeeze before dragging his palms lower to feel the give of your thighs under his fingers. One long digit slips into the band of a stocking and tugs on it, letting it snap back into place with a quiet smack. He can’t seem to stop pawing at you, kneading along the soft pudge of your inner thigh until broad knuckles brush against your cunt. You shudder at the sensation and lift your head to peer down at him, struggling to keep your voice in check when he presses two fingertips into the meat of your labia and spreads them apart. Sensitive tears sting your eyes as a fresh wave of humiliation crashes over you, threatening to drown you. To be looked at like this was not a feeling you were mentally prepared for but, carefully watching Childe’s face, you’re relieved to find that he doesn’t seem to dislike it. 

In fact, his expression actually pinches with a low, rumbling groan that makes your pussy excitedly clench. His eyes take on a distant, dreamy sort of look, and he bends down to give your cunt another savory lap of his tongue, making you twitch at the contact against your clit. Exhaling slowly, he rises up enough to crowd his finger in and slowly rubs the meaty little nub in faint, barely there circles. You seethe through your teeth, still overwrought so soon after your orgasm, but you quickly relax into it when pleasure rushes in to replace the sensitivity. 

“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmurs, drawing a quiet whimper out of you. “And so receptive, too. I wonder how sensitive it is on the inside …” 

You realize what he’s saying a moment too late, far too gone in the hazy, post-orgasmic bliss to function at your usual level, and you don’t get the chance to protest. The finger on your clit abandons it’s target in favor of a new one, slipping lower to find your entrance and — slide right in. He doesn’t even hesitate. Just a quick, sudden pressure on your interior and he’s inside of you right down to the knuckle and you wheeze, going ramrod stiff on top of the desk. 

“Shit, you’re tight.” 

“I … I’m sorry.” 

Childe sends you a quick look, his mouth already cocking into a smirk, but the expression on your face gives him pause. “What is there to be sorry about, girlie? It is not a bad thing to be tight, you know.” 

“Yes.” You agree, even though you don’t really know what it is you’re agreeing with. “It’s just … I’ve never done this before so I hope it’s not too much trouble.” 

A terse beat passes through the room, completely still and quiet save the hushed sound of bustling nightlife in the near distance. Then it seems to click, and he blinks up at you owlishly. 

“You’re a virgin?” 

“I'm sorry.” You say it again, because it’s the only thing you can think to say. 

A half choked, disbelieving laugh slips out of him and he straightens, looking at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. There’s a new understanding in his eyes now, as if everything suddenly made sense, and you quickly turn your head so you don’t have to see the way he’s sizing you up. You’d glimpsed that predatory hunger in him more than once in the short time you’d known him but had always written it off as a hunger for life and all it had to offer. Excitement and battle, and the driving urge to test his own strength. Now, though, that voracious appetite was not only centered entirely on you but it also seemed to solidify into something tangible. Something far more dangerous than anything you’d seen in him before. He wasn’t merely going to have you, take you, claim you. 

He was going to devour you. 

With a reverberating growl, Childe reaches out to palm at your lower belly and he gives it a tight, pinching squeeze. You whimper faintly in response but that only further encourages him. His opposite hand, the one between your legs, withdraws for but a moment before returning with two fingers this time, and they slide straight up into you with a wet little click. Your guts are so slippery and soft for him that there’s hardly any resistance at all even when your body instinctively tries to clamp down around the intrusion. You can feel the burn of the stretch in a far off, dreamy sort of way, but it does absolutely nothing to dissuade or discourage you. If anything, it almost seems to spur you on. 

He laughs again, low and raspy, when you stutteringly roll your hips and squirm for him, idly giving your stomach another savory pinch. “I’m sure you don’t need me to tell you this,” he says quietly, in such a soft register that you almost miss it over your own gasping breaths. “But I’m probably not the best candidate for someone’s first time. You sure you want to do this, girlie?” 

You think that’s a massive understatement. He was rough and excitable, easily carried away and impatient. Whatever he may have lacked in fine tuned precision was more than made up for in so much puppy-like enthusiasm that it bordered on being too much, and even now you couldn’t ignore how good just his fingers felt inside your pussy. You wanted him perhaps more than you’d ever wanted anything else in your life, and that wasn’t up for debate. But you hesitate to say it, whether for your pride or just the simple fact that you didn’t know how to say it. 

Faintly wheezing, you struggle to sit half upright so you can look at him, for once unconcerned with the heavy weight of your breasts or the crease along your tummy. You simply look at him, as a woman, and he looks at you as a man, primal and starved, practically chomping at the bit to sink his teeth into you. If he was the wolf then did that make you the lamb? 

“You said you would show me …” Hesitating, you quickly swallow down your nerves before they can get the better of you. “Show me how a man handles a woman like me. I’d like to see that, xiansheng.” 

The snarl that comes out of him is more animal than human, and the most frightening one you’ve heard yet. It sets your guts vibrating, heart hammering wildly in your chest with the instinctive urge to flee, to run, to hide — but you couldn’t have even if you’d wanted to. You were already trapped in his clutches, his fangs locked around your sensitive jugular, ready to tear through you and rip you open for him to feast upon. It flashes across his face, settles deep in those strange eyes. The bloodlust. The thrill of the hunt and the subsequent kill. He was the predator and you, his prize. 

You gladly give yourself over to it when he leans down to claim your mouth again, kissing you so hard and so voraciously it steals the air from your lungs. His hand stays busy between your legs, working your cunt open with those long, calloused fingers, while the other one roams over your body. Grabbing at your love handles, your tits, the small of your back where it’s arched up off the desk in silent supplication for more. More of him, more of the pleasure and the threadbare pain that comes with it. More of his fingers, more of his tongue. You wanted all of it, and you plaintively moan into his mouth when he reaches up to palm the back of your neck. Holding you in place like that, he increases the speed and the pressure between your shuddering thighs, and the incessant clicking increases with it. Already an ache was forming deep in your body and you could tell you were going to be sore for days to come but you revel in it, bask in the heightened pleasure of knowing you were his to lay claim to. 

You think you’re starting to get close to another orgasm when he abruptly pulls his fingers out with a wet little pop, and you tear your kissed-raw mouth from his to groan in disappointment. He doesn’t give you a chance to complain though, and you suddenly find yourself shoved down on your back as he crawls up onto the desk with you, pinning you under the sturdy weight of all that lean, hard muscle. Eyes widening slightly at having him over you like this, you reach up to clutch his shoulders hard enough to make the joints ache. Jostling you slightly while he positions himself, Childe issues a heady grunt into the scant space separating you from him and then you feel it. 

The nudge of his cock. The press of the glans against your slit, seeking out the warmth of your body even as he slips over sticky lips and folds. You gasp sharply, mouth hanging open in a silent scream when he finds your entrance, catches and starts to sink in. It was something completely different from the stretch of his fingers, something much more intense, and you give a small jerk against him as tears spring up in your eyes. He is firm and unbudgeable on top of you though, hissing in deeply felt pleasure when you take him. More and more of him, until your eyes start to roll back in your head. 

Twisting back against the desk, you sob up at the ceiling. It feels like you’re being crushed under him, your guts squishing and compressing against the weight of his cock bullying its way into you. He pauses, shifts slightly, and then his large hand is cupping the side of your face. The blunt of his thumb hooks under your jaw and he demandingly angles you towards him so he can kiss you again, muffling the frantic, whimpering moans you let out when he sinks the rest of the way inside. 

With his narrow hips pressed tight to the backs of your thighs, you’re really, truly trapped underneath him now. It’s so hot and heavy between you two that you can barely manage to squirm, weakly shaking and writhing underneath him instead of wildly bucking like you would like to do. You feel frantic and mindless, your neck lolling bonelessly in his hold while the room seems to spin around you at a frankly alarming speed. You’d never felt so full, stuffed to bursting, or drunk on fast pumping endorphins in all your life. 

“Archons above, you feel so damn good.” He rumbles against your cheek, voicing the very sentiment you were trying (and failing) to come to terms with in your own cotton stuffed mind. You weren’t sure if you would ever be able to fully recover from this. Not this intimate meeting of your flushed, sweaty bodies or Childe’s raucous entry into your life. 

Groaning, he starts to move. The stiff flex of his hips is slow at first, drawn out and savory, like he’s merely enjoying the wet heat of you squeezing around him, but it doesn’t last long. He begins picking up the pace in just a matter of moments, driving his pelvis against your harder, faster, until the embarrassingly loud squelch of your cunt sucking him in deep rings on a near endless loop. You lurch underneath him, clawing at his shoulders and back while he relentlessly carves out a space within you, drilling you into the desk with reckless abandon. The creak of the wood barely even registers though when you’re so swept up in the sensation, the mind numbing experience of being fucked senseless by the beast heaving above you. 

He seems almost feral now, and you can feel the ache within you growing with each plunging thrust of his cock as it drives into you again and again, reaching deep inside to knock something that has you seeing stars. It leaves you reeling, dizzy and overwhelmed, but there’s no stopping it now. Childe is like a man possessed and he eagerly ruts into you, losing himself in your pussy, and all you can do anymore is cling to him in high strung desperation. His hands are everywhere at the same time, a blur of pinching squeezes and kneading gropes, but he soon gives up on trying to press you somehow even closer to himself in favor of reaching higher to grip the opposite edge of the desk. He seems to use it as leverage to reinforce the power behind his thrusts, and he slams into you with enough force to nearly send you into a vertigo-inducing free fall. 

“Shit!” He grunts, fanning warm breath across your face as he seeks out your mouth again. “I don’t think I ever want to leave this pussy, you know that?” 

Tipping your head at him, you catch his lips in another searing kiss and he seems to sink further into you, defying all logic and reason when his body moulds so tightly to yours it’s hard to tell where one of you starts and the other begins. It’s like you’ve become one entity, one being — the wolf and his hard won prey joined together until you were one and the same. Sharing the same body, the same mind, and the same pleasure. His appetite only fed into yours and heightened it, and the reverse seemed to be true as well because he moans, low and faltering, when you lock your ankles around his waist to hold him against you. 

He surprises you then, his heaving motions stalling to an almost complete standstill while his tongue intertwines and dances with yours. Unhurriedly exploring your mouth, claiming it as his own, Childe starts to slow fuck you with a grinding roll of his hips. His cock is wedged so deep inside you it feels like he’s poking at your ribs, and you all but sob at the staggered, barely there thrusts that churn your insides and increase the pressure tenfold. It was like you were on the brink of implosion, shuddering so intensely that the desk heaves a sympathetic groanin response. 

And somewhere in the back of your mind you still manage to find the wherewithal to hope the two of you don’t accidentally break it. 

Gradually, he winds you higher and higher until you’re frantically gasping for air, practically hyperventilating even while he keeps kissing you and fucking you like he has all the time in the world to enjoy this. He just might, for all you know, and you didn’t doubt that he would make the time if he didn’t. So incorrigible, so demanding and entitled to your body … as if he thought you were made just for him and maybe you were. Maybe you’d been born just for this purpose and he, the hot headed man from Snezhnaya, was likewise meant to have you in this way. 

You whine low in your throat as the tremors threaten to overpower you and he finally breaks apart from the kiss to groan heavily into the statically charged air. The reverberation seems to bleed into you and trigger a chain reaction that has every nerve ending in your body lighting up one by one, in rapid succession. It floods your system in waves, working lower and lower until it finally hits that tight, aching coil deep in your gut and it instantly snaps. You cum with a shriek, shoving your face into the bend of his sweat dampened neck to smother the sound while you fitfully twist and jerk underneath him. Your pussy spasms, wildly milking his cock, and he moans in response with a faint tremble of his own sweaty, heaving frame. 

Muscles flexing, he rides you through it at that same, sedately steady pace until you at last start to come down from it, chest heaving uncontrollably as you try to catch your breath. You’re lost in it, soaring somewhere far outside your own body, high above the very city itself, but you’re still acutely aware of the way he seethes and grunts when he moves to push up. Lifting your head, you blearily watch him go up on his knees to kneel between your legs, cock glistening in the sparse light coming in through the window even as he takes it in hand. He strokes it, hard and fast, with his heavy lidded eyes alternating between your well used cunt and your face, panting heavily and groaning softly as his shoulders begin to shake. You can tell he must be reaching his limit by the growing strain in his voice, and it seems to finally hit its peak with a keening, borderline whiny whimper that goes straight to your pussy. 

You hadn’t expected him to sound like that, so needy and desperate, and you find it inexplicably arousing. Your body clenches with renewed excitement and you mewl, very quietly, when his hips give one last little jerk and white, creamy ropes shoot out of him to splatter across your stomach. It’s hot and sticky where it settles, and Childe outright snarls at the sight of his cum painting your skin. 

“Xiansheng - -“ 

He doesn’t stop long enough to hear you out or give himself any time to recover before he’s swooping down, hunching over your prone form so he can drag his tongue through the mess he’s made. You give a jolt of surprise, gasping in shock, but the slow look he sends you under the fall of his tousled hair assures you he was capable of much worse than this and he was not your average man no matter how you tried to rationalize it. 

The two of you take a moment to catch your breath, just looking at one another through the gloom and basking in the afterglow. He touches you with idle confidence, like he was already secure in his ownership of your body and didn’t even need to think about it anymore. Emboldened now, you allow yourself to touch him too, feeling across the definition of his chest and arms, his abdominals and hips. Just like before, his energy seems to be bottomless and it doesn’t take very long for his spent cock to start stirring again when your hands were on him like that. 

Shamefully enough, you have him two more times over the course of the long night — once against the side of the desk, standing up so he could grope you to his heart's content, and once on the ornate chaise lounge, tangled up in a mess of limbs — before finally succumbing to exhaustion in the early hours of the morning. Neither of you spoke of what would come next or what it all meant in the long run, but you didn’t really see the need to. 

There was only so much room for negotiations where fate was concerned, after all. 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Pausing outside the bank to check that your hair was still in place, you make a valiant effort to smother the butterflies flitting about inside your chest. You were a little nervous, yes, but you try to remind yourself just how silly that actually was. Childe had not only seen you naked already (which was embarrassing enough) but he had also had you multiple times, in multiple positions. Surely you should have been beyond the point of being shy around him after all of that. 

Though that’s easier said than done, of course, and you can’t quite figure out how you’re supposed to behave now. Should you just pretend that nothing had even transpired between you and him? Should you proceed with confidence and surety that he did indeed want you? He’d made that abundantly clear last night so there wasn’t any reason to pretend you didn’t believe him anymore, and you’d likewise had to accept that you wanted him too. But were you allowed to act on it? Archons, they didn’t make manuals for this sort of thing. 

He’d helped you sneak out in the early pre dawn glow when everything was soft and hazy, and you’d recovered just enough to make the walk home. You’d insisted on it, citing that you needed to bathe, among other things, and he had of course tried to convince you to just stay with him before finally conceding defeat. He’d even offered to escort you but you hadn’t wanted to run the risk of being seen together in such a compromising position. Nadia was bad enough even though she’d politely looked the other way when the two of you had emerged from the bank, completely ignoring you both, but anyone else would have been pushing your luck. Or so it seemed, anyway. The situation was just way too strange for you to say with any certainty but you got the distinct feeling that not everyone would be so willing to look the other way on this. Whatever this was.  

Anxiously, you fiddle with the front of your dress to make sure there weren’t any creases or wrinkles in the fabric. This was so stupid. You had no business acting like a lovestruck teenager over someone like him. He would have outright laughed at you if he saw you right now, and that was to say absolutely nothing of the on duty guard sending you odd looks. You were just going to have to get this over with. 

Steeling your resolve, you push through the doors with your head held high, determined to maintain a confident appearance, but it quickly falls away when you find Childe standing in the lobby with the director and about ten other Fatui agents. Your heart immediately sinks. Had something happened? 

“Oh!” Childe notices you right away, and he perks up like an excitable dog. The stormy glower he’d been wearing fades as soon as he lays eyes on you, replaced by that big, boyish grin, and you stand up a little straighter when he shuffles toward you at an unhurried pace. You weren’t sure what was happening here but you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was nothing good. “We were just discussing you, actually. Good timing.”

“Me?” You blurt out, disbelief coloring your voice. 

“Don’t sound so surprised, girlie. Of course it’s nothing bad. Come, stand over here with everyone.” 

You’re so dumbfounded that you don’t even have the presence of mind to act embarrassed about it when he casually slides his arm over your back, steering you towards the small congregation. You frantically search their faces for some kind of answer or clue but you can’t get a read on most of them thanks to their masks. The only one whose face was uncovered was the directors, and you have to do a startled double take at his pallid complexion. He looked like he’d aged ten years since you last saw him! 

“Don’t be nervous.” Childe says, giving you a playful nudge that makes you hope things were not as dire as they seemed. That quaint little notion is immediately quashed, however, when all the good humor drains from him upon turning his attention on the director. “Go on, Krzysiek. Tell her about the letter you received this morning.” 

The older man winces as if he’d been struck, his wild gaze darting from the Harbinger to you and then back again. “Ah. Yes. Yes, of course.” Forcing out a single brittle laugh, he lifts a trembling hand to wipe at his damp forehead. “Lord Regrator sent a very prompt response to my missive. Very prompt indeed. He made it quite clear that the original order had not been signed by mistake and he was well aware how much mora was in question. I’m afraid he isn’t, erm, very pleased with me at the moment but I am working very hard to rectify my mistake at the current time.” 

“And?” Childe prompts, the cold tone of his voice sending chills up your spine. 

“And I fear I owe you an apology,” the director shoots you a harried look. “It was remiss of me to put you in such a vulnerable position. It was not your responsibility nor your place to be in such close proximity with this … ah, particular situation. It was Fatui business and that’s how it should have stayed. Lord Regrator also made that quite clear to me in his letter” 

You have no idea what to say to that. Not that you didn’t agree, because you most certainly did. You’d tried to tell him all of this right after that initial meeting with Childe in the back office but he hadn’t listened, far too determined to foist the problem off on you rather than deal with it himself. But if he’d taken a moment to consider reason and rescind his decision then you wouldn’t have gotten to know Childe the way you now knew him. You wouldn’t have felt his warm hands all over your body or his searing kisses on your neck, and even for as much grief you’d endured because of it you couldn’t be mad at him for it. You were at first, and very much so, but not now. 

“It’s alright.” You finally murmur, turning to glance up at the redhead standing beside you. “Does this mean you’re leaving?” 

You hadn’t meant to sound so sad about that — for all intents and purposes you probably should have been jumping for joy — but his expression softens in as much as it ever does, and he smiles at you again. “For a little while, but I’ll be back. Liyue is a beautiful country and there are plenty more sights to see, people to fight, and things I’d like to do. You haven’t seen the last of me just yet. But in the meantime, Krzysiek here is going to make sure you’re well taken care of for all the trouble we’ve caused you.” 

Your brows shoot straight up to your hairline. What in the world was he talking about? “I’m afraid I don’t understand, xiansheng.”

“Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head. Just think of it like … reimbursement for all your hard work. We had a chat about it and agreed you deserve at least that much.” 

“But — but I can’t possibly - -“ 

“Sure you can!” He cuts across you, as boisterous and pushy as ever. Turning to face you now, he pins you with a mischievous if not challenging look that threatens to turn your knees weak. “You won’t have to work at the bank anymore if you don’t want to. You’re free to quit at any time, and I already made sure there won’t be any retaliation against you if that’s what you choose. You’ll still get your compensation for the rest of your life regardless, so, really, you’re free to make whatever decision you want.” He pauses then, seems to think about it and then quietly adds, “Well, I guess that would be for the rest of Krzysiek’s life, wouldn’t it?” 

The man in question chokes, sounding like he was right on the brink of some massive mental breakdown, but you pay him no mind. You just stare at Childe like he’s grown a second head, trying to make sense of it all. Reimbursement? For life? Did he truly think you wanted or were at all concerned about something like that? 

“Is this really your way of saying goodbye?” 

“Aw, don’t look at me with such a sad face, girlie. I already told you I’d come back, didn’t I?” Gently, he places his hand on your shoulder and you let him guide you away from the gathered Fatui who watch on like silent sentries. You were glad for his foresight in moving you away from them because with each passing moment it was becoming increasingly harder to keep your emotions in check. You didn’t know if you wanted to scream at him or cry. Of course you’d known he’d be leaving soon but so suddenly? And like this? 

You couldn’t think of anything worse to cap off this whirlwind experience. 

Softly shushing you, Childe pulls you towards the far wall and then moves to stand in front of you so he’s blocking the others and all you can see is him. You try very hard to keep the tears at bay, uncertain if they were angry or sad, but they still well up in your eyes and it makes your bottom lip warble. It was perhaps the most humiliating experience yet but he only clicks his tongue, reaching up to cup your cheek. 

“Stop that.” You hiss, trying to turn away from him, but he persists. Unable to take the hint and overbearing even now after everything you’d gone through together just to reach a tentative understanding with one another. All of it gone, in the blink of an eye. 

“Now, now,” he murmurs in a placating tone, at complete odds with the way he grabs your chin and pulls you around to look at him again. “It’s nothing to get so upset over. I told you I want you, didn’t I? Or do you still think I’m only teasing you?” 

You hesitate, eyeing him warily. A moment ago, yes, you’d started to doubt him in the face of this sudden upheaval. You’d expected at least another day with him, another chance to find the courage to ask about his intentions with you, and now there was so much that was going to go left unsaid. But looking in his face and the grim expression you find there, you realize that he really is serious. Not only was he going to come back without fail, he would come back for you. Not the scenery or the city, or for the duties he carried out for his homeland. This was just his way of making sure you were taken care of in the meantime … and you couldn’t exactly fault him for that. 

Finally, you relent. “No, I don’t think that anymore. I believe you.” 

“Good.” Breaking out into a wide, eager grin, Childe leans down to kiss you, hard and fast before you can react or swat him away. You flush red hot, stammering something about the others seeing, but he just laughs it off without concern. “Let them see! You are mine, and some day we will stand on top of the world together, mark my words!” 

You gape at him in disbelief, hardly even daring to believe your own ears, but he only takes advantage of your shock and confusion to grab your face again. Gently cradling your cheeks between both hands now, he looks at you like you’re something precious and worth protecting, crystalline irises dancing with an inner light that was all his. No exterior illumination seemed to be able to pierce that murky, tumultuous void, but this was something else entirely. It made his eyes look like brilliant diamonds refracting an infinite number of prisms that existed nowhere else on the spectrum and this … it was all for you?

Feeling your resolve irreparably shatter, you lean into him and go up on the tips of your toes so you can kiss him. “I’d like to see that, Childe. I hope you keep your promises.” 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Crossposted to AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50380030

[impala124]

Bad Buddy Ep 3

My thoughts on Ep 1 | Ep 2

Me, at the end of this episode:

WOW. So, Pat very nonchalantly cut up his student ID card to make the most handsome guitar pick for Pran. Pat is such a charmer.

Pat saying, "I'm your lucky charm," to Pran while Pran believes that he brings bad luck to Pat. Let me sit with this for a second.

When Pat, referring to himself, said that "A jinx can't be this hot," Pran makes a face that reads like, Well, you clearly haven't met yourself. Reiterating that Pat is a charmer. An oblivious one but a charmer nonetheless. The flirting—God, this is what is missing in the current shows. Get these writers into the writing room again ASAP!!!

Now, Pat really didn't need to stand like that (I don't know how to say it other than perpendicularly); he could've stood facing the door like everyone else in the elevator. Not my boy, though. Never change, Pat!!

Pat coming in clutch with the presentation. Okay, I see a pattern of Pran losing all hope in a situation and Pat coming in to save the day and not at all concerned with taking credit.

Pat kept Pran's guitar WITH HIM. He didn't know if they would ever cross paths again, but he still did.

Pran is worried about calling it even with Pat because he believes that he'll be forgotten and Pat will move on with his life.

Not Pran looking at the watch that he reset after Pat leaves him in the hallway after giving him back the guitar.

It's fascinating how Pat can't offer help to others directly. It's always under the pretense of something else.

Pat and Pran are both class presidents in their respective faculties, but that's where the similarities end:

Pat wanted that position and was chosen by his seniors. Pran was worried about juggling this responsibility with his coursework, but since his classmates chose him, he wants to do justice to the role.

Pran is a leader who leads from the front and feels responsible for his friends actions. When the professor asks those who weren't involved in the fight to leave, he stays behind, although he had nothing to do with this fight. He even helps them in procuring the required materials and goes as far as to ask Pa for help. Pat, my beloved, isn't that concerned about his friends actions, although he's the class president. Pat feels little to no sense of duty towards his friends as their leader and is only concerned about getting kicked out of the music competition because of their shenanigans.

Neither of them is wrong for reacting the way they did; it just highlights how different they are from each other (which can be a good thing).

Pat is very passive regarding everything that's happening around him. His inaction when Wai was getting bullied by his friends highlights this. I'm sure his dad has hammered into him that the only person he should please is him, the father, and others are dispensable. His friendships certainly feel that way.

Tagging the usual suspects: @shortpplfedup @incandescentflower, @starryalpacasstuff, @7nessasaryevils, @greenteadumplings, @grapejuicegay, @madworld-bbs, @usodeshou If anyone wishes to be tagged in the future, let me know.

[luneengene2]

Andteam and what would their major be please??

&Team Members and Their College Majors (+Their 'behavior' at college)

I already made the Enhypen version, and now I'm going to make the &Team version (+fulfilling requests)

• A/N : I made this based on my opinion (+their MBTI if I wasn't sure about my opinion).

• Warnings : Contains grammatical errors

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

• KOGA YUDAI

|| Faculty of Arts, Design and Music ||

|| Modern Dance Department ||

- Will become a teaching assistant because his dancing skills are the best.

- Often sought after by juniors when there is a dance event on campus.

- Most likely apart from studying, he will join a J-Pop or K-pop agency to become an idol.

- The student group is well-known and has many followers on social media.

- The most skilled at creating choreography and becoming a trend on campus.

- One of the outstanding students on campus and is often sent to national and international dance competitions.

- Most likely he would have become an idol while he was still a student on campus if he was debuted by his agency.

- (This is random), but his girlfriend could be a beautiful ballerina who is also in the same faculty as him.

• MURATA FUMA

|| Faculty of Health and Sports Sciences ||

|| Department of Sports Education ||

- He became a student that girls wanted because apart from being tall and muscular, he was also very handsome.

- Often seen on sports fields, both outdoor and indoor.

- He is also known to be quite rich because his father is a gym owner.

- His clothes are identical with t-shirts, jogger pants, varsity/baseball jackets and Nike shoes.

- Member of the American football club on campus who has the position of captain.

- Apart from being a member of the American football club, he is also often sent by his campus to several sports competitions. His quick mastery means he always brings winning trophies to his campus.

- Became a teaching assistant because he was superior compared to his friends, both in practice and theory.

- He is also often seen at the campus gym and is often teased by girls who have a crush on him.

- (Random again), His girlfriend could be a beautiful cheerleader.

• Wang Yixiang / Nicholas Wang

|| Faculty of Art, Design and Music ||

|| Photography Department ||

(Addition: My imagination is more vivid about Nicholas who is very suitable to major in Photography compared to Fashion Design / Stylist)

- Has a very high fashion sense and often wears luxury items.

- Before entering university and starting the world of study, he already had his own photo studio which of course led to business.

- Often go around the university to photograph several objects.

- Opening up internship opportunities for friends who are in the same major as him.

- If there is an event on campus, he will often be called for documentation.

- Apart from being the best photography and student in his department, he also often helps his models to choose clothing styles that suit them.

- Has a target to enter the modeling industry by becoming a photographer.

- Often rumored to be dating girls who have the title 'Face of Campus' / 'Beautiful College Girls'.

- Has a part-time job as a model.

• Byun Euijoo

|| Faculty of Mathematics and Science ||

|| Mathematics Department ||

- The student is handsome but tends to be nerd and bookish (not an insult), because he often spends his time in the library and even takes extra classes.

- There are quite a lot of girls who have a crush on him, but most of them are reluctant to approach him.

- Often wears a shirt, carries a medium-sized backpack, carries a thick book, and wears glasses.

- Classified as an outstanding student who was able to enter the university because of his mathematics and science awards.

- Participating in an academy acceleration program so that he can more quickly proceed to master's level.

- He rarely gets together with his friends because he is more active in studying (Introvert).

- Despite being an introvert, he is also good friends with several medical students.

• Nakakita Yuma

|| Faculty of Maritime Affairs and Fisheries ||

|| Marine Engineering ||

(Addition: Do you know why I think Yuma would be a good fit for the Marine Engineering Department? Because one of the emojis represents him😭)

- Rarely seen on campus because he often practices directly, whether at the port, dock, or even directly at sea.

- Always the most updated with news about the sea in his country.

- He is very concerned about marine technology. And will also focus on creating solutions and developing marine technology.

- Will choose an internship in an offshore oil mine.

- Always communicate well with his lecturers regarding maritime issues in his country.

- Even though his major does not study marine biota, he also masters marine biota science.

- Often argue with students in the architectural department if the marine building designs they make do not suit his abilities (difficult).

- Make friends with civil engineering students and sometimes discuss development conditions on land and at sea.

• Asakura Jo

|| Faculty of Art, Design and Music ||

|| Fine Arts Department ||

- If there is an arts event on campus, he always takes the initiative first to participate and always wins.

- More talented in painting, but that doesn't mean he's not good at other subjects.

- His work will often be bought by lecturers on campus who like paintings, and the price is definitely expensive.

- Always gets the best rating in its class if there is a project about design or making complex sketches.

- Always wanted to do an internship at a museum or painting exhibition center and had a target of having his work displayed at the museum or painting exhibition center.

- One of the students who had a business before graduating from college opened a painting service.

- He often hangs out with students in the architectural department because he is interested in the building designs of architectural students.

- He always carries a sketchbook wherever he goes, and even while having lunch he always gets inspired to paint.

- (Random again), his girlfriend could be a student majoring in literature.

• Shigeta Harua

|| Faculty of Health and Sports Sciences ||

|| Department of Pediatrics (Master's degree or equivalent) ||

(Addition: After graduating with a medical degree, he will specialize in pediatrics, aka continuing his Masters studies)

- A student who is soft-hearted because he likes children.

- He has a friendly nature which makes him a lecturer's favorite.

- During his internship, he will choose to do an internship at a children's hospital.

- If there is a vaccine event on campus for children, he will be very enthusiastic, even buying gifts with his own money to distribute to the children to make them happy.

- Children will always be happy to meet him because Harua is always friendly and always has kind words.

- He is good friends with psychology students.

- (This is random) in his practice uniform pocket, he often carries a stuffed bunny.

- Dating a female dental student.

• Takayma Riki

|| Faculty of Social, Law and Political Sciences ||

|| Journalism Department ||

(Addition : Taki is an ENFP, so I think this major suits him)

- The most updated about the latest news because the department is also assigned to search for and discuss the latest news.

- Have good public speaking skills (ofc).

- Has his own blog and is often assigned by his university to create the latest news about his campus.

- Relatively rarely seen on campus because he often interviews various sources.

- Have high analytical skills.

- Often wears glasses, a plaid shirt, often carries notes and carries a camera and small microphone.

- Prefer to do an internship at a television station and become a reporter there rather than become a news writer.

- Always a 'group' together with students in the photography department because every time there is a campus event, several photography and journalism students are always part of the documentation makers.

• Maus Riki / Hirota Riki

|| Faculty of Social, Law and Political Sciences ||

|| Department of International Relations ||

- His excellent ability in several languages ​​made him choose this major.

- He often experiences UN meetings because his campus often chooses him to go directly to UN meetings.

- Classified as a very rich student (+his parents are one of the biggest campus donors to his campus).

- The target of girls at his university because he is rich, handsome and authoritative.

- Often the focus is also on voicing women's rights, whether at UN meetings or other international meetings.

- It is relatively rare to see at universities because they are often sent abroad for direct practice.

- Most likely to get a scholarship to study abroad.

- Dating a female student in the law department.

[danieyells]

I apologize if this was already asked or if you mentioned it already, but what are your thoughts on the dynamic between the chancellor and Ed? Ed seems to be able to bulldoze the chancellor and I'm not sure if the chancellor particularly fears Ed for being a powerful vampire or something else.

Gdi something updated and threw out my whole response. OOPS. This hasn't been asked before, no--even if it had, no harm in asking again, anon 💕

I feel like Cornelius is barely maintaining the power he has even over the faculty, let alone the ghouls. It's no surprise to me that he'd get pushed aside by Ed. From the beginning, even Hyde does whatever he wants for the most part, much to Cornelius' complaints. Yes, he can dock their pay and refuse to raise their budgets and maybe even report them to the Institute itself and get them fired or relocated but also. . .he kind of needs all his people. So he's kind of helpless even in his position of power.

It's no surprise that a ghoul, let alone a ghoul who's also the most powerful vampire in the world, would be able to push him aside and run his show for a moment.

I don't know about fear--I think Cornelius knows Ed has no desire to harm humans because if he did he would've done to the entire faculty what he did to that building on his mission and there'd be nothing left of them and he'd go back to fuckin. Serbia or wherever he was before he went on vacation to Japan. But Cornelius is [probably?] just a human. He's a small human at that even though he's like 57. What's he gonna do, call the faculty? Call the Institute? If all the ghouls worked together they'd steamroll them too. Ed could probably do it himself but he cares so little he wouldn't bother.

I love their dynamic lmao. Ed acts like he doesn't care but really I think he does want better for the ghouls and the anomalies and the PC especially. Meanwhile Cornelius sort of acts like he cares and he's not even giving his own staff the budgets they need to do their jobs. Ed does a great job of taking over a situation and saying "you are not doing your job so I will do it for you and make sure everyone sees how incompetent you are--it's up to you if you want to make changes now" which Cornelius really needs someone to do because he is kind of irresponsible or careless or indifferent in some fields he shouldn't be. And I understand that he has a lot on his plate but still, if he wants to stay in charge and not eventually have the ghouls riot against him he's going to have to step the fuck up. Ed is just pointing that out for him. Because he can't punish Ed in any way that matters.

[thebroccolination]

THE LEAKED “EX-MORNING” SYNOPSIS

Recently, it seems GMM submitted a promotional catalogue of their upcoming series to the Busan International Film Festival for their consideration, and then it was leaked to the public. In that catalogue is a detailed synopsis of KristSingto’s comeback series, “The Ex-Morning”.

And I have thoughts.

teaser available on youtube

[spoilers and thoughts under the cut]

- - - reader beware - - -

SYNOPSIS:

Pathaphee or Phee is a famous news anchor of Good Day Thailand. He is a rising star in journalism. With his bright and lively personality, he is beloved by the public. But his life turns upside down when the video of his abusive behaviors towards his co-anchor is leaked to the public. His co-anchor is injured in the incident. From a rising star, he turns into a falling star.

Pathaphee is suspended from work. He has to sell his luxurious car. He tries to get a job at other news agencies but no one wants to work with him. Due to trauma, he has panic attacks and is unable to do live news reporting from the field. Luckily, he still has Young, an exclusive news editor who has adored and been close with him since he was an intern. Young gives Pathaphee a chance to work with a talented producer who holds an overseas degree on a new show. Pathaphee feels blessed for the second chance that he gets. He is relieved that at least a good thing comes out of this turmoil. But as soon as he meets the producer, he is not sure if this chance is really a blessing. The producer is Tamtawan, his ex-boyfriend. Their breakup was so terrible that Pathaphee developed an anxiety disorder after that. He still suffers from it even now. He knows that the person who is supposed to be his savior can end his career for good.

Pathaphee and Tamtawan were dating when they were in college. Tartawan was his senior at the faculty of journalism. They were competing in everything they did. However, they had a promise that Tamtawan would support Pathaphee's dream to be a news reporter. On the day that Pathaphee had an audition for a news reporter position at a major news agency. In the audition, he needed to give a live field report and the judges would watch it. While he was reporting news, Tamtawan's breakup message was among the keywords for the news report that the creative sent him. Moreover, his news reporting was interrupted by a group of local mafia. His news reporting ended in disaster. He was eliminated.

Pathaphee wanted to know the reason why Tamtawan broke up with him. But the truth he found out that she stole his critique of journalism and used it to apply for a scholarship at an overseas university. He was accepted to the university because of his work. Tamtawan decided to dump him.

Pathaphee worked hard and achieved his dream of being a news reporter. He loathes Tamtawan more than anything in this world.

But now he is so desperate that he has no other choice but to work with Tamtawan under one condition. Tamtawan needs to help him regain his followers. He must have ten million followers in the next three months. If he fails, he needs to resign from the news agency. If he refuses Pathaphee’s offer, he will admit that he stole Pathapee’s work which helped him get his scholarship.

Tamtawan dislikes Pathaphee but he thinks his offer is challenging and interesting. He accepts Pathapee’s offer but he also has a condition. If Tamtawan successfully helps Pathapee regain his followers, he needs to apologize and call Tamtawan "Master" for three months.

Pathaphee and Tamtawan work together as a news reporter and a producer. Their past has a major influence on the dynamic of their current relationship. Though they always find a way to tease each other, flirting can also be seen between them. As they are chasing the truth, they become close. Physical touches, that accidentally occur while they are working together, reignite the spark between them. Their relationship is like unpredictable weather. It's confusing but also intriguing.

Tamtawan did not come back for his work. He has a hidden mission to help the man he cares for. He came back to find the mafia who exposed the video that destroyed Pathaphee's reputation and put his life in danger. The ex-lovers need to work together to find the real criminal behind their case and their true feelings for each other. Will the flame in their hearts change them? Will they learn about the change together?

THOUGHTS:

I’m even more excited about this series now. Like, I was already 100% confident it would be fantastic, but seeing this much of the story laid out, that confidence is now at unprecedented heights.

First of all, I’m glad Tamtawan has some gray in him. It’s entirely possible he had altruistic reasons for taking Pathapi’s work, but the result being unceremoniously breaking up with Pathapi, ruining a rare opportunity, and giving him an anxiety disorder is so good for story and character development. No matter his reasons, there’s some genuine harm done there, so his character isn’t an angel.

It’s a great role for Singto, as he’s consistently challenged himself in recent series to portray more and more complex characters. I didn’t enjoy Shadow as a whole, but I thought Singto was easily the strongest part of it. He really, truly went deep into his craft while he was away from the limited scope of roles he was getting under GMMTV, and I’m excited to see what he does with Tamtawan.

Because I was really hoping Tamtawan would have more to him than just being generally cocky. The fact that he’s responsible for some devastating moments in Pathapi’s past is going to add a lot of depth to their interactions and the story as a whole.

Also, like, I’ve touched on this before, but the fact that Pathapi has an explicitly stated anxiety disorder is a personal point of excitement for me. Krist’s two previous BL roles, Arthit and Kawi, both exhibit signs of anxiety, but nothing textual.

If you’ve followed Krist, you’ll probably know he’s suffered from mental health issues going back years, likely including anxiety. He hasn’t shared an official diagnosis, but after seeing Inside Out 2, he’s spoken about experiencing anxiety attacks before live performances, and he’s essentially adopted Anxiety as an emotional support character. He has possibly every piece of merch for her that exists.

So let’s say he’s familiar with anxiety as a concept.

It’s one thing to watch Krist portray a character who has signs of anxiety as opposed to a character whose anxiety disorder is a textual part of who he is. I think this will be his strongest performance yet.

The story itself is complex, the script is completely original, and it has some of GMMTV’s strongest artists at the helm, so I’m delighted with everything I’ve learned.

I’m also glad it’s not as much of a parallel to their real lives as they were making it sound in spring. I think they’ll have more visual hints than direct correlations, like Krist’s car accident in 2021 represented in what seems to be Pathapi escaping from the mafia. I’ll guess KristSingto fans will spot the similarities more easily than casual viewers, but I could be wrong.

In conclusion: 11/10, can’t wait. :D

TEASER AVAILABLE ON YOUTUBE

[sketchfanda]

Kirishima’s Mystique:Well, Hello Nurse!!

The medical ward of UA had been seeing quite an uptake in students checking in for treatment in recent times with some students even getting themselves hurt on purpose and why you might ask? Well look no further than Recovery Girl’s recent new medical assistant Heloise Nurse or more commonly known by the nickname Hello Nurse!! And really when You first lay eyes on her, how can it not be the first test of words to come out of your mouth? She was a real head turner who could make even the most heterosexual girl question if she’s maybe a little bicurious after all but while she may have seemed like a bimbo airhead ditz you’d have found gracing the centrefold of a sensual pinup magazine, she was still quite the professional and knew how to do her job.

Of course Mineta though he’d been slick getting himself hurt in the junk but the blonde had shifted responsibility of his care to Recovery Girl who was more than annoyed to say the least at the grapehead’s lame obvious attempt at sexual harassment. Besides incidents of a similar nature like that being few and between however, she was still proving herself good at her job with her mannerisms and overall dedication to her work ensuring positive reactions among the UA student body. For someone who seemed like a brainless bimbo, she knew just the advice to give on their quirks, Izuku hasn’t even broken any bones for months now much to the relief of the faculty!! She was pretty much the Florence nightingale of UA who was even finding herself with a fan club that even had a few female students in it.

It said a lot that Kirishima was among the few students, male or female to yet have had their own encounter and interaction with the enigmatic nurse but he’d certainly been hearing the odd rumour here and there. Can’t be helped when you’re in a threesome relationship with Mina and Maya who loved themselves a good bit of gossip as well as try to put ideas and fantasies in his head about getting an intimate “check-up” from the blonde medical angel of UA. The aforementioned rumours consisted of nonsense like that apparently she was a secret agent or that she used to serve as assistant to a psychiatric counsellor at some big time Hollywood studio back in America which of course was to do with her transfer here to Japan. Apparently she had some issues involving stalkers or sexual harassment and the like so being here at one of Japan’s premiere hero schools was a fresh start for her.

But as with any rumours, it was all she said he said they said with only the a nurse herself being the one who could confirm any truth or deny it. Not that the hard-headed redhead was one for gossip and rumours, granted he couldn’t deny Heloise was more than easy in the eyes but also happened to have brains? That was plenty Manly as Crimson Riot would call it, that was for damn sure. Eventually of course the wheels of fate seemed to conspire and make sure the sturdy himbo got himself a long overdue appointment with the medical angel because damn it they wanted to see some action!!

It was simple enough as one fine late afternoon, the hardheaded redhead had stopped by the nurse’s office for a quick checkup and patch up. He’d made a rare mishap of overexerting himself during one of his workout sessions at the campus gymnasium, leaving himself feeling a little strained and sore so he hoped and figured a quick peck from Recovery Girl might help out. Just his luck to find the medical ward occupied only by Nurse herself, who was quick to give him a firm but playful lecture not to get hurt like that as she looked him over before proceeding to request he go topless and lay flat on the medical bed. That way she could apply a soothing balm by massaging it into his skin to heal his aching muscles, making Kirishima blush as he struggled to keep his libido at bay.

Heloise:”I can tell macho guys like you like to prove yourself, but doesn’t mean you got to put yourselves at risk like thstat, you’re still young after all….”*The nurse playfully lectured as she sought out and found the balm, pouring it a little extra body oil for good measure. Her blue eyes sneaking a glance at Kirishima as she watched him fully expose his muscular torso, biting her lower lip sensually as she supressed the urge to growl and moan. She knew she shouldn’t be thinking of a student in such a way but well let’s just say the odd female student or few she’d dealt with as Assistant nurse at UA who had shared some…quite juicy details about the Red Riot. Very vivid details that kept her very warm and wet at night.*

Kirishima:”Y-yes ma’am, sorry ma’am….”*The sturdy himbo nervously stumbled as he complied with the Nurse’s firm but gentle orders, laying flat on his front which helped to stop his eyes from wandering and ogling her. Oh certainly many male students like Mineta had been direct in how hot they found the blonde blue eyed fantasy come to life but seeing her up close and personal properly like this made him realise they’d been understating it. Shuddering as he felt Heloise straddle his waste and proceed to work on his back, massaging from the centre of the spine to his neck and shoulders. Her magic fingers working away at making his sore body feel that little bit better as the sound of her melodic humming filled his ears.*

As Kirishima found his mind and body being taken to paradise, Heloise couldn’t help but let her own thoughts drift and wander off as she worked. It was impossible to keep her naughtier thoughts at bay when she was being so hands on with a such a prime physical specimen like the sturdy himbo, her fingers and palms gliding with silky grace along his muscles as it became clear to her just how long it'd been since she had last been with a man. To be held in such strong arms and feel the warmth of skin on skin among other such intimate deeds. To forgo any shame or sense of inhibition and make like animals in the ancient dance of man and woman....

The sensation of arousal flowing through every nerve of her body only grew all the more so with every groan or sigh of satisfaction from the angelfaced himno as all his aches and worries went away. Particularly when she had him turn over to lay on her back which afforded him a fine view of her straddling his waist, her mini-skirt clad bubble butt pressing against his groin and her bountiful bust struggling to be contained within her uniform. All the while she herself had found the front of his torso was as good if not more so as well built and sculpted as his backside had been, as she worked on making those firm pecs and those washboard grinding abs glisten. It was like a work of art brought to life and yet here he was not ogling her and undressing her with his eyes, such a gentleman.

If anything really got her pulse racing, it was a man who didn’t immediately lust after her and could see her as more than just a pretty face with a smoking hot body. And here was Kirishima being so polite as to not stare at her, his Lil’ Riot was clearly showing how he was feeling as her miniskirt clad derrière could feel a rising bulge in the groin of his pants which made her shudder. Silently gasping and panting with rising passion as she couldn’t resist her urges, leaning close towards him as her face inched closer and closer to his before finally pressing their lips together. Surprising him with the sudden kiss before she found herself pleasantly experiencing him return it as their tongues began to entwine and dance together, Heloise moaning sensually as her desire took hold of her sense of professionalism and mixed it with the thirst of her libido

Before Heloise herself realised it, she was bending over by the edge of the bed as she had her tits freed from her blouse as they were drenched with a coating of the balm. Sandwiching Kirishima’s flagpole stiff erection between her mounds as he now laid in the bed fully naked, groaning as the bombshell nurse delivered him a very lubricated titfuck while she kissed and licked his pumping, thrusting cock with her luscious Ruby red lips. Her sapphire blue eyes twinkling with lust as she rubbed thighs together, feeling them sticky with the arousal that flowed and soaked her panties as she was soon grasping and stroking Kirishima’s cock in her hands. Plunging her lips onto that shaft with erotic abandon as she commenced with a stunning deepthroating fellatio, idly wondering if she’d been wanting this subconsciously as it would explain why she chose the more edible oil.

Kirishima meanwhile couldn’t believe this was happening right now, to think he’d be living out a cliche porn fantasy made reality in more ways than kne as he watched and felt Heloise suck and blow on his cock. Being reminded of the odd daydream or late night fantasy he’d been having since she started working here, the constant playful stunts and ideas put in his head by Mina and Maya as he took a gentle yet firm grasp of those silk blonde locks of hers and began to buck his hips. Deep moans from her muffled mouth as she was clearly loving the sudden facefucking, her mouth feeling like an oral pussy as inches of that long, thick slab tickled the back of her throat. She was practically feeling herself cum from such assertiveness, to say nothing of his scent and taste dazzling her senses.

And so it went of course as the blonde bombshell nurse and her young stud patient didn't resist going along with flow of momentum guiding them as the medical office was soon filled with a distinct sound. The heavy creak of bedsprings, the heavy rhythm of skin smacking on skin and the passionate moans pouring forth from Heloise’s ruby red lips as she bounced and rode on Kirishima’s shaft cowgirl style. Wearing nothing but her nurse cap and her ivory white high heels as her tits bounced and her ass jiggled while her stud held her hips firmly as he jackhammered away into her snatch’s eager and slick embrace. Gasping with delight whenever he would suddenly reach up to squeeze her boobs or slap her booty for good measure in displays of asserting dominance which of course really turned her on.

After all just because he was a gentleman didn’t mean he had play it gentle with some slow soft making, oh no an absolute physical unit like this could be as rough as he wanted and needed with a girl like herself. What a unit he was as she couldn’t stop her hands from feeling up and massaging those muscles of his before she found him suddenly sitting up to lock lips wit her once more, her brain going numb with ecstasy as their tongues danced together while he deepened his thrusting. Heloise wrapping her arms around him, holding on for dear life as the forces of an intense climax washed over between them as she orgasmed while feeling him cum inside her. Soaking his lap with her spraying nectar as he flooded her womb with his manly seed, gasping and panting as they rode the wave of pleasure yet her mind shd enough awareness to notice and realise his cock wasn’t getting soft or limp which meant he was only just getting really started.

Kirishima of course wasted no time in getting right to the next round and th one after that and so on as The bombshell known to many as HELLOOOO Nurse found herself playing out her most intimate, secret porno fantasies about being a nurse within the office. Deep throated moans pouring forth from her lips, mascara tear stains painting her face as the Red Riot took her any and every which way in ways no man had ever truly taken her. From being bent over her desk as she was being fucked doggy style, her tits swaying as her ass jiggled with every impact of Kirishima’s piston thrusting length and girth to pinning her up against the wall with her arms and legs draped around him as she kissed him with thirsty passion and hunger. Marking much of his body with kiss marks from her lipstick as the floors became stained with growing puddles of their mixed juices before Heloise found her brain having quite a bold idea to spice up their fun.

The idea in questiin consisted of taking the massage oil balm and pouring it all over her curvy bombshell body, enhancing their primal fucking as her glistening lubricated body and his made sweet, hot rut. From hanging head off the edge of the bed as he facefucked her to pinning her in a mating press as he took her like the caveman he was performing as with sexual perfection. The pair so into their lovemaking that they didn’t know they had an audience, in the form of Kirishim’a ever kinky sexy girlfriends as Mina and Maya were watching through the crack of the door to the nurse’s office. Sexy grins in their pretty faces as they relished with voyeuristic delight as they snapped a few pictures and recorded some videos on their smart phones. They knew that letting Nurse know she had an open invite to enjoy their boyfriend would come to pass but lucky thing he had needed to get a check up after his workout, they didn’t even have to set him up and convince him.

So they were very proud and turned on at their alpha male going with the flow, licking their lips sensually and erotically biting their lips at the primal scene before them. Before deciding enough time had passed to add themselves to the mix, surprising the blonde hottie and their stud with their presence as he was in the midst of plowing her in missionary style, suddenly hugging and kissing him as they showed up wearing copies of Heloise’s outfit. Making it clear to their man that he was about to have himself a little Sexy fun playing doctor with them. Heloise’s office once more becoming filled with the sounds of bliss and passion as she began to experience first hand just how wild Kirishima could get when his two alpha girls were enabling snd egging him on and oooh it was….so much fun.

After that intimate encounter of course, Heloise always made sure to find a time to have Kirishima come on by for another “check-up”, especially if he could bring along both Mina and Maya or one of them. Often signalling these appointments by sending him a naughty, sexy or nude selfie for his eyes only of course, to which the chivalrous himbo always showed up on time with punctual dedication. Most in their class or across campus chalked it up to Kirishima being as concerned about his health as he was his fitness except for Mineta of course who had s feeling he was getting blueballed and cuckolded yet again. The trolling expressions from Mina and Maya certainly didn’t help alleviate his suspicions one bit.

for Heloise Nurse of course, let’s just say a little regular round the clock not beef injection did wonders for her motivation and dedication to her work. Especially when talking with Ms.Midnight about the possible benefits if the Rated R heroine’s theory about sexual activity snd it’s emotional and mental benefits for the future heroes to be. If it was played out right oh it’d be controversial as much as her debut outfit but it’d be revolutionary all at once, that was for sure. Why she was proof of it and it made Heloise so glsd she transferred from America to Japan, Hollywood was getting hectic especiallt when a certain trio of siblings were being quite the handful…long story there believe you me….

[qqueenofhades]

For a winter-themed prompt: our favorite time travelers and something involving piles of blankets?

"Lucy," Flynn says, with just enough bite in the growl of his voice to make it plain that this time, he really means it. "Come over here."

"Just a minute." Lucy doesn't look up from the stack of essays scattered across the kitchen table, which are making her lose the will to live the longer she beholds them, but if she doesn't finish them now, she'll have to worry about them and/or work on them over Christmas, and that sounds even worse. "I'll be right there."

"That's what you said ten minutes ago," Flynn points out, with his usual sardonic unconcern. "And twenty minutes before that. I'm sure the world won't end if Johnny Freshman doesn't officially earn his C- in the next three hours." He considers, then shrugs. "Though if we're going by the excerpts you were reading to me earlier, I think that might be generous."

"These grades were due to be submitted yesterday, and the department only gave us an extension because MyWeb crashed." Lucy's voice, by contrast, is increasingly brittle. "I don't have time to just throw that aside, even if I want to. I have to finish this first."

"Ah." Flynn regards her shrewdly. "It's your mother talking in your head again, isn't it?"

Lucy flinches. It is truly unsettling how well this man knows her -- and yes, the shrill taskmaster in her head does sound suspiciously like Professor Carol Preston, reading Lucy's own essays with red pen and making any number of helpful suggestions. But it's true that she has end-of-term responsibilities that cannot just be errantly flung aside, no matter how tempting it is to just snuggle with Flynn on the couch in front of the tree, and she looks back down at the essay. Which is a mistake, and she groans aloud. "Another AI-generated one, are you kidding me? Aren't these kids supposed to be smart?"

Flynn looks at her with a I-seriously-doubt-it expression.

"Right. Forgot who I was talking to." Lucy sighs, writes PLEASE EMAIL ME TO DISCUSS THIS on top of the page in large capital letters, and sets it aside. She's grimly reaching for the next one, hopefully not "written" by ChatGPT, when Flynn pulls out the chair next to her, sits down, and whisks the pen out of her hand. She goggles at him. "What are you -- "

"If these need to be finished," Flynn says, "I'll finish them. Go sit."

"What? You don't -- it would be against the rules for you to grade my papers, when this is my class and I'm the faculty of record -- "

At that, Lucy stops short, shakes her head, and sighs deeply. She and Flynn stare each other down, which as usual, he wins. She rubs her eyes, gets up, and leans to briefly kiss the top of his head. "Please don't fail everyone, all right?"

Flynn makes a sound as if to suggest he makes no promises, then gets to work, ripping through the papers with his usual terminator efficiency: whether altering history or grading history, there is nothing and no one that can stand before his stubbornness, and it is, if she's being honest, definitely one of the sexiest things a man has ever done for her. She pads to the couch, wraps up in the blankets, and lets her exhausted brain veg out, staring at the glowing tree, until Flynn signs off on the last one, gets to his feet, and crosses over to join her, settling on the couch with a creak. He puts his arms around her, and Lucy burrows into his chest, letting him hold her close. "Thanks," she murmurs, as he tucks the blanket around them both and pulls them into a more comfortable position. "I love you."

Flynn grins into her hair. His voice, this time, is very soft. "I know."

[mci-writing]

My Life is Like a TeamStarkid Play, But Less Terrifying (Rise!Leonardo x Fem!Reader) 1/???

A/n: Hi. Just gonna preface a little with a general note that the reader is part alien. It is an integral part of the story for later and it will be brought up quite a bit. Just based on past tmnt iterations and their relation to aliens and space which Rise lacked up until the movie (and, even then, still lacked). The two songs used here are both from The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals: What Do You Want, Paul? and La Dee Dah Dah-Day respectively. I recommend listening to them so the flow of the scene sets a little better. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: language use, sexual references, musicals, some dark humor but like tastefully in a theater kinda way, this series is very reader-centric Word Count: 5.4k Kofi

Part 2

Fingers anxiously tap, tap, tap at a bedazzled binder, the label, ‘PLAY IDEAS’, is peeling at the corners. Teeth nervously nibble at the dry skin on the bottom of the owner’s lip, stopping when she inevitably draws blood again.  

“If you keep gnawing away at your lip like that, you won’t have one left,” The voice next to her spooks her out of her trance, a soft gasp leaving her lips as she straightens. (Y/n)’s face quickly drops as Leo pokes her cheek, her (e/c) eyes meeting his shit-eating grin. The accompanying red-eared slider happily slides into the metal chair beside her, arms resting on the backs of the chairs beside him, “You’re worrying too much, senora. Your drama teacher would be insane not to use any of the spicy ideas brewing in that mind of yours.”

“I wouldn’t say spicy…” (E/c) eyes slide down to the binder between her fingers only for it to be snatched by three long and slender, green fingers. They follow to a smirking Leo, the mischievous glint in his eyes sparkling a little brighter as he shakes it to and fro, which he stops at the slight sound of a paper plausibly tearing, “Though, I won’t get to share them if you mess them up, Leon.”

He purses his lips, blowing through them and making that weird horse whining noise, as he sets it in his lap and flips through the pages (which all luckily seem intact, thank fuck). He stops occasionally to analyze a few, his exaggerated faces giving her no true hint of what he’s thinking. His humming with each page doesn’t help.

It’s not like the pages are anything special or filled with over-the-top, never done before ideas, but they at least provide an idea of where to take whichever play they decide to pick for the semester. It’s filled with mainstream big plays, with hopes that the big names will draw more of the student body to join, and plausible proposed budgets that the school’s faculty would easily agree with (going off of her mother’s industry metrics-). There were also margins and pages filled with mathematical equations estimating probable costs that only Donnie or a very determined and a little too excited drama student director would notice. Leo is more than positive they teamed up on it in some way.

He lingers on a few pages, which she assumes to be the more eye-catching ones or the few musicals he actually knows (courtesy of the girl next to him). She doesn’t miss him quickly moving past the big number pages and extra gibberish that only those in “the business” would understand. It’s a rare instance of him being completely silent as he analyzes the pages. It only heightens (Y/n)’s worries about the quality, but she distracts herself as she moves her (e/c) irises to linger on other details and aspects presented to her at this moment.

A good bit of his features are obscured by his admiral blue winter hat and matching sweater while his jacket hangs over her chair (she isn’t sure when he managed to put it there). Not even the most perceptive of people would pick up on the exposed parts of his face being reptilian shades of green in his current getup. Then again, she’s more than positive the turtles could very easily pass as people when they cover their shells (something she has bared witness to so often), especially in the melting pot of NYC. She does miss his crescent moons, hidden away by the felt of his hat, but it’s a small price to pay to avoid lingering questions. Without the shit-eating grin, his face is mischievous enough that you would assume he’s always up to something, which isn’t necessarily an off assumption, but (Y/n) just knows when the wheels in his brain are turning from years of experience.

“Alright, done!” (Y/n) doesn’t realize how close she is until his head turns to face her, the two mere inches apart from each other as opposed to the slightly bigger distance they had. It definitely throws her off a little, but Leo remains unphased as he continues, “Looking through this thing only proved my point further. You possess the sauce-”

“The sauce?” (Y/n) asks with a tilt of her head, somehow managing to take the binder back into her arms and holding it close to her chest, “What the hell is the sauce?”

“I have no idea! But Mikey’s used it enough times for me to confidently say that you have got it, whatever it is! Mama Celeste will be so proud, (N/n),” She’s now 100% sure he mistook Mike’s cooking speeches as some new lingo, but she’s not allowed to dwell on that for too long as she hears the voice of her drama teacher calling her to his office, “That’s your cue. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

She stands to her feet, taking a deep breath as she turns her attention to the office. She stares for a moment, feeling the nervousness creep up her spine as the binder in her hands gains thousands of pounds. With a shaky step forward, the deep pit in her stomach reminds her of literally everything hanging on her gaudily designed book. Of course, any other time she’d be reminding herself that any of the musicals they choose is alright and that any of her ideas being turned down isn’t the end of the world, but she can only focus on the fact that this is her senior year and anything going wrong feels like the end of the world to her. 

She feels dizzy in worry, her throat going uncomfortably dry. Her breathing slows and, to any party outside her mind, she looks like a deer in headlights as she stands staring at the door. Her heart rattles in her chest-

“Heey, Mamacita! Chill out,” Green fingers settle themselves on (Y/n)’s shoulder, tugging her into Leo’s chest as a reassuring grin graces his features. Their cheeks touch as he stares straight towards the door, his fingers on his other hand softly gripping her chin and keeping her eyes on the door, “You know all the business insider secrets because of your mom. Don’t let them go to waste. Ya’ve got this, (N/n). Go in there and rock it like you know how.”

His words actually manage to calm her, her breathing evening back out as she slowly regains her confidence. The small feeling of nausea remains but is slightly tolerable now.

“Plus, as much as I love the laser light show idea for The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals, Hadestown will probably be a hands-down legend for this school with the right vocal lessons. But that’s just me.” Annnd now she knows his biases from her creative selections, “Knock ‘em dead, tigresa!”

He gives her a light push through the door, leading to her stumbling and falling on her ass in front of her teacher. He doesn’t pay her much mind, barely looking up from his paperwork. 

“Ms. Brown. Good evening,” He gives her a bit of a hand wave before finally looking up, “Ready to discuss this semester’s play?”

“Yes, Mr. Sherma” She quickly stands to her feet, suddenly very self-conscious of her grotesquely decorated binder as she holds it to her chest, “Yes, I am. And, this time, I brought an idea book to explain my ideas a little better!”

He holds his hand out for it, delicately handling it as he brings it to lay on his desk. His fingers are nimbler than Leo’s as they open the pages, flipping through them with careful precision. His eyes linger longer, the scene playing out similarly to earlier.

He occasionally brushes the parts of his brown hair back, his eyes, tired but curious, scanning each and every detail. She’s reminded of some of her classmates joking about him looking like a Renaissance version of a particular Twitch streamer.

The only time it’s obvious which ones he’s interested in is when he looks over the proposed budget pages a bit longer than others. He hums and mumbles, not shy from making noises of displeasure at certain pages. She’s pretty positive she hears him mumble ‘cringe’ at some point.

(Y/n) awkwardly sits in one of the many chairs in his office, her fingers lightly tapping against her knees while her feet make little kicks. Her brown orbs glance around the room when she feels she’s been looking for too long. Various awards line the walls, some for students whose names she recognizes and others she’s maybe heard in passing. She recognizes a few of her own, not fighting the small smile that comes to her lips at the acknowledgment of her work of the past few years. The walls are also decorated with pictures throughout the years of performances and practices past as well as the occasional goofy memory, some a little hard to make out with the dying light of the assorted lamps.

“This… idea binder is full of interesting ideas, Ms. Brown, but they don’t tell me what you specifically want to do,” Mr. Sherma sighs as he closes it. His blue eyes meet her brown ones, an intensity behind them that she can’t read, “Each page has a lot of detail and potential, but none scream with desperate want, you know?”

She grows nervous, feeling herself start to sweat under his gaze. She tosses his words around in her mind, but it doesn’t make it much clearer, “What do you mean by that, sir?”

“What do you want, Brown? Tell me what you desire to see. Your deepest intent, Brown,” She feels herself flinch when he suddenly stands, her back pressing deep into the chair as he leans forward and sings at her. She never knows what to expect from her drama teacher, but the operatic sounds that leave his mouth aren’t it, “What do you see for this production? I’m looking for someone with strong ambition, someone to sell their specific vision, someone to share with precise precision their thoughts. ‘Cause I want you to want… To want!”

She’s thrown off further once he begins walking around his desk. He stops once he reaches the front, comfortably leaning against the mahogany with little disregard for its old and thin nature. He crosses his arms over his chest as he stops, looking down at her, “So what do you want, Ms. Brown? What’s the one concrete goal that motivates all your actions?”

(Y/n)’s lost at his sudden questions, her head naturally tilting as she stares back at his determined gaze with equal confusion. Her face scrunches up, eyebrow lifting. He doesn’t elaborate, again, so she doesn’t even know how to begin to unpack all of what he’s pushing for.

“I don’t think I have one of those?” She finally manages to wrangle up, giving her teacher another one of her nervous, closed-eye smiles.

He remains quiet for a moment, staring her down for a bit. She opens her eyes once she realizes he hasn’t said anything, awkwardly maintaining eye contact as he doesn’t exchange immediate words. She can feel a grimace starting to form while his face remains stony.

“Well, then, how’s anyone supposed to sympathize with you, Ms. Brown?”

“Huh? I don’t know…” Her mouth gapes open at that, but she quickly closes it to think of literally anything she could plausibly list. Most of her current goals involve catching criminals and living to make another day? Understanding her powers a little better and maybe her family heritage some? But those aren’t necessarily things many of her peers could relate to and sympathize with, at least, not in the way she has to deal with her goals. She thinks hard about some common goals that most high schoolers have, “I want what anyone wants…?” She thinks really, really hard, “Money, a partner? Kids, someday, maybe?”

Mr. Sherma nods his head at that, turning to face his desk. (Y/n) relaxes a bit, thinking that maybe, just maybe, that would be the end of it-

HE JUMPED ON THE DESK?!?!

“What the fuck?!”

“I want you to want, Brown! A girl so vague just can’t be trusted! Something you pine for, maybe someone who keeps you lusted.  I’m just a boss, I’m not an idea guy! I hire you kids to keep our plays ripe. But if you can’t pin the point that’s in the skyyyyy!” 

He starts to dance with ease, ignoring the resistance of his desk’s legs as he does a smooth spin in the middle of the surface. His footwork is delicate, fancy, even. (Y/n) finds it hard to even focus on what’s being sung at her as her eyes glide behind his movements. He stops in the center, sliding to his knees and pointing his right index finger in her direction while his left-hand rests on his chest “Then I want you to want, to want!”

“Sir?!” She can’t fight the laugh in her tone as she calls out, equally amused and heavily confused at this turn of events. She literally can not pinpoint why in the known universe he is singing at her, especially this song of all things, but she can’t lie and say she isn’t severely entertained.

“D’you know what I want for myself? I’ve waited for so lo-ong to tell somebody else,” His tone drops, becoming more somber as he manages to rhythmically set himself down from his desk. He grabs the picture of his wife off his desk, his head tilting as a fond look comes to his eyes, “Carol, my wife, you’re my muse, my source of light. Carol, my love, I want you to choke me out at night…” He plops himself down into his chair, longingly staring at the photograph of his wife, “I want you to choke me… I want you to choke me… I want you to choke me while I jerk off… I want you to choke me while I… jerk off.”

(Y/n) sits up at those words, a discomfort settling in the pits of her stomach and sinking further down. She doesn’t fight down the look of shock in her eyes at the admission, nor is she able to stop the noise of confusion she makes, “Um, sir-,”

Without missing a beat, Mr. Sherma presses the call button on his office phone, the beep loudly sounding through his small office. He leans over, a dazed look in his eyes as he stares forward, “Melissa, get my wife on the phone for me.”

(Y/n) quickly gathers her bags, reaching for her idea binder, “Mr. Sherma, I think I should leave-,”

“No, (Y/n), I want you to hear this,” He tugs the binder closer to him, not sparing her a glance as he adds, “If you leave, you’re fired.” 

It rings a bit before Mrs. Sherma answers, “Carol! Yes, everything’s fine, I promise. I just wanted to tell you something…,” He freezes, his dazed expression growing horrified as he stares forward, past the expansion of the messily decorated walls of his office into the inner turmoil of his request weighing on him, “I, uh, I forgot what it was… Maybe someday I’ll remember. Goodbye…”

It remains quiet after that. (Y/n)’s gaze remains downtrodden as she contemplates and processes how she was thoroughly traumatized by the shame of her drama teacher, but also not surprised by his antics. Mr. Sherma, however, was mentally suffering with his inability to tell his wife his deepest desires…

She looks up in time for her (e/c) pools to meet with despair-ridden shades of blue, the latter widening as Mr. Sherma rises to his feet and dances around his desk.

“Ms. Brown, now you know what it is to want!”

“I want to go home!” 

“It consumes a man with a passion to drive the primary plot,” His verses speed up as he ignores her pleas, “So take up yoga or improv classes. Volunteer at shelters or twitch to the masses.”

(Y/n) takes her gathered bags while he’s distracted.

“There’s gotta be something to keep my hands off you. Off youuu”

She manages to slip around him and grab her binder, holding it close to her chest.

“‘Cause I want you to want!”

“I’m gonna get some… coffee? Do you want anything?” (Y/n) manages to ease to the door, her hand struggling to get a good grip on the door.

“No, I need you to want!”

“How about an iced caramel frappe? Nothing better-,” The door magically opens for her just as her hand gets a good grip on the door. It drags her forward, causing her to lose her balance.

“And if you don’t want…” He freezes, taking a deep breath before releasing the highest note he’s hit that (Y/n) has ever known him to, “We’re throughhh.”

A soft donk sounds as her forehead meets a hard plastron. Scaly, strong arms wrap around her waist, holding her up. She isn’t surprised to find Leo above her with his signature, though more slightly confused than usual, grin. She raises her hand as she shrugs, nudging her head towards their exit and grabbing his hand to drag him through it, “Have a good rest of your evening, Mr. Sherma!”

As the two leave, they hear her teacher call out for her, hitting one last high note as they push through the auditorium doors. It only encourages (Y/n) to pick up her pace, leading the turtle through the halls toward the exit.

Leo is rightfully confused, especially when (Y/n) doesn’t elaborate on it in the slightest.

“Are we going to talk about that orrrrr?” He attempts to nudge, his hands coming up and crossing behind his head. He leans back into the hold, his eyes never leaving her form as they walk the streets of the neighborhood around the school.

He feels his breath hitch when she turns to him, undeterred by the grimace on her face when the light escaping from the sun’s rays meets the color of her eyes. He hears her response, but he finds himself more focused on her mannerisms as she animatedly fumbles through explaining what went down. Her (h/c) hair bounce with every step, just as animated as her, but still relatively deflated from the exhaustion of her instructor and the heavy plush of her pink winter hat.

“This almost was not worth giving up my shift for,” She finishes, bringing her fingers up to her lips to breathe on them. A pout takes place on her plump lips as she digs in her jacket pockets, slipping her gloves on, “He started singing about wanting and wants when all I want now is to make back the tips from Run of The Mill. We didn’t even pick anything because of his weird song!”

Leo finds himself only able to nod as (Y/n) continues to grumble the rest of her rant. He had only really heard the last bit of what was going on, but that was due to him deciding to investigate after hearing some weird screeching and shouting. He didn’t actually expect to find her being held hostage by her singing teacher, but it aligned pretty well with the few things he’d heard about Sherma from (Y/n) and April. Even now, he feels the man is something unreal entirely.

He takes the binder out from between her armpit while she’s distracted, her ramblings turning into muttered gibberish that he can very much still understand. He starts flipping through the pages again, his face softening as he stops on a page of distracted doodles he hadn’t noticed on his first run.

(Y/n) was no artist, by any means, but she was damn good at creating a scene of stick figures. Some showcased plausible blocked scenes and others were silly little things like a chibi version of herself squashed under a rock labeled ‘Drama’ in her fanciest cursive or exaggerated versions of their friend group doing severely ambiguous poses.

As he goes to flip to the next page, the hums of people on the street reach his ears, but his companion has stopped her ramblings. She’s stopped altogether, staring ahead with a bewildered look.

 “Carolers caught your attention, (N/n)?” He asks as he looks up from the book to her, a smirk dancing along his lips as the quip readies itself from his brain cells, “You can’t judge them too harshly for being a tad bit pitchy, y’know. Not everyone can hold a note by ear.”

The teasing was worth it, especially with the deadpanned expression she gave him in response. However, she shakes her head as her thumb and index finger grip his chin, pulling him down to her level. Their faces are mere inches apart and Leo can all but feel all the warmth spread through his face, “They’re all perfectly dancing in sync.”

He doesn’t exactly process her words, his eyes going smaller as his lips form an O shape, “What?” The words do slowly jog back up with his brain processing, laughing at her statement, “I’d expect them to be dancing in sync if they’re all caroling. Would be a little embarrassing if they put a whole dance together and all ended up doing their own thing-,”

“No, Leo,” Her fingers turn his head forward as she speaks. Her hold is firm enough to keep him there, yet soft enough that he doesn’t feel like his skin is gonna tear off as she directs him, “Look at them all in sync. Everyone…”

And just like she said, everyone on the street had been humming and dancing in sync to the same tune. No one seemed to be a pitch-off or a step out of line as they filled the streets of midtown New York.

“Holy shit…,” He mutters out, eyes the size of saucers as he takes it all in, “Was there some block party announced that we don’t know about or something? Flash mob, maybe?”

“For it to be this big, impossible,” (Y/n) mumbles back, releasing her grip on his chin as she also continues to take in the sight of the sea of bodies.

“Yeah-yeah-yeah!”

The crowd separates down the middle, continuing to shimmy and sway in tandem. A lone girl remains, bundled up in a big puffer jacket with a green vest over the top of it. Her right hand rightly grips a clipboard and the recycle sign on the left breast of her vest is just barely visible through the crinkles of the uniform. She’s suddenly belting out words, the widest grin on her face as she bounces for a few beats, fist happily pumping in the air as she perfectly centers herself between the crowd.

“Just a typical day, that’s got me feeling in a beautiful way. No rhyme or reason,” She starts, pointing at some random person in the crowd, “We could sing a duet, dance a style or two. Or I’ll make you a bet, just a smile will doooo.” 

She does flawless chaines before going into a sly, Italian fouetté. The duo flinches at the precision, their eyes trailing her moves. It really does nothing to give them context, but they can’t really complain when they’re already so enthralled.

She ends by raising both hands towards the air, feet spread as she belts to the sky, “Sometimes I just wanna shout on top of roof and mountaintops. All the world is paved in goldddd.” She lowers her hands as she holds the note out, tossing her clipboard off into the crowd somewhere. She places her now free hands on her hips as she walks along the lines of the crowd, hips bumping to the beat of the music, “Yesterday was retroactive, got myself a new perspective. I strut it up and down the road.”

“If the fighting climate change gig doesn’t work, she’d totally rock Broadway,” Leo comments perfectly between verses as they get a little closer to the action on the streets.

The girl stops her strutting right behind them, both arms resting on one of their shoulders, “So I throw out my worries and my old skin away,” She gives them both a little shove forward, nodding her head before doing a pirouette en dehors, “Doing what I want to do on this la dee dah dee daaaaaaay!”

Both teens stumble with (Y/n) catching herself by setting her feet on the pavement and Leo grabbing his arm as she’s steady. The girl stops spinning as she holds out the note, the folks in the surrounding area joining in midway through. The crowd begins to form a circle around the girl, Leo, and (Y/n), joining hands as they skip around them for a bit before changing directions and skipping the other way.

“La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day!”

“La dee dah dah day!” The crowd releases their hands in exchange for clapping on the beat, perfectly moving their hands in tandem with one another. High right, high left, low right, low left which each other word of the chorus and clapping on every word for each straight ‘La dee dah dee day’ 

The girl gives them both a high five before running out of the crowd as the circle disperses. Everyone on the street continues to hum and step on beat.

(Y/n) and Leo turn to each other, equally dumbfounded at the event transpiring around them. They still somehow manage to remain in the middle of the chaos, even as they attempt to weave through the crowd in search of the nearest manhole cover.

“What the fuck was that?” (Y/n) finally asks, turning to the blue-clad turtle as he fixes his ruffled clothes to hide himself a little better. 

Neither are really watching where they’re going when Leo accidentally bumps into a homeless guy on the street. He panics, straightening the guy before he can teeter much, “I’m so sorry, sir,” He quickly begins searching his pockets, “Here, let me see if I have any-,”

“Hey, man that’s cool,” The guy happily replies with a smile, seemingly ignoring the change that jostled out of his tin can, “‘Cause I may not have a home, but that’s way okay. ‘Cause I prefer to roam the streets all day.”

He sings in the same cadence as the girl from before. The crowd of people turns towards them, doing the heel-toe around them on the beat to the song, every other row going the same way while each row in between goes a different way.

“The world is my house, the dogs are my food,” A small dog scampers past, “Oh, look— a new blouse!” He lifts a newspaper from off the street, his face lighting up as he runs past them, “And a new trash can tooooo!”

(Y/n) steps closer to Leo, his arm immediately going for her shoulders and pulling her closer until she’s flush against him. Her hand immediately grips his jacket in an attempt to pull him closer. They’re unable to keep their eyes off of him and both are a little too petrified to move from where they stand. The guy skips around them, raising his hands into the air and lowering them the longer he circles.

“I used to want to kill them all while high on bath salt zombie drugs and snacking on a dead man’s face,” He stops and stares at them for a little too long, his glare shifting around to every person dancing around them as he does a little, slow spin in place. He stops before a bright smile lights his face, “But that just feels like yesterday! This song takes all the pain away. My politics and house views changed.” He does a little dancy dance to emphasize his point, “Dancing on the concrete used to hurt a lot, but now I got new feet and this jam’s just way too hot!”

“La dee dah dah day!” The crowd around them all lift their hands to the sky as they sing the chorus again, waving them to the beat with a small step every other note, “La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day! La dee dah dah day!”

(E/c) orbs spot an opening, her mind counting each beat it opens up. She steps away from Leo a bit, getting a grasp on his arm as her narrowed eyes keep a close watch on her path of escape. Her compadre starts looking through his pockets again, a grin on his face.

“I have literally no idea what’s going on here, but this is so cool!” He manages to pull out a five, happily setting it in the homeless guy’s tin can, “That’s all I’ve got for right now, but I’ll totally keep more cash on me in case I run into you guys again tomorrow.”

“Leo, come on,” She manages to pull him through the crowd just in time. It’s almost comical how easily she tugs him along through the rows of dancing New Yorkians, “This is the second dance number I’ve been forced to sit through today-,”

They continue to weave through the crowd, the clear street beyond the dance mob seemingly beyond their fingertips. (Y/n) keeps a strong grip on Leo as she leads the way, while he remains amazed by the group's movements around them. 

Just as they reach the end, the girl from before lands in front of them. She’s regained her clipboard, which now rests tightly in the palm of her hand. She takes a deep breath before she sings out a call, “Do you wanna save the planet?!”

“Of course, you want to save the planet!” The crowd calls back, freezing in place to stop and look back at her.

“Do you wanna save the planet?!”

“Well, there’s just one way you can do it!”

“By singing a song!” Without warning, the girl begins cartwheeling toward the center of the crowd as they sing back at her. She stops a moment to sing with them, “Singing along!” Before immediately going back to her cartwheels. The crowd goes back to singing the chorus as she does, every other row overlapping with the other

“La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day!” With each row she cartwheels by, the ensemble turns back towards the center. They continue to repeat it a few times, changing the lyrics up just as she hits the last row, “La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day… Away…”

The girl does a flip in the air as she reaches the center, landing on her feet perfectly with her arms raised in the air and her clipboard intact between her fingers. She lowers herself to rest on one knee, belting out one final, “La dee dah dah”

Each row of the crowd falls to their knees one after the other aligned with each word she sings. It’s almost creepy how synchronized their moves are. They finish the song off in unison with a final, “Day!” Everyone holds the position for a few beats before getting up and moving along with their day like nothing just happened.

The two remain standing there after watching all of that happen, equally confused and mesmerized by the events that just transpired before them. Leo is by far more amused than (Y/n). He turns to her with a knowing grin as he takes in her face.

Her mouth is held open, has been since the girl cartwheeled and flipped back to the middle. Her eyes, while not the size of saucers, hold an intrigued gaze in them. Her grip on Leo’s arm loosened in the midst of that, her hand now limply resting on his inner forearm as opposed to tugging it forward.

“You’re gonna catch flies, (N/n),” Leo teases, his index finger hooking under her chin and slowly pushing it upwards. Once her mouth closes, he tilts her chin up towards him and their eyes meet. He doesn’t fight back his grin like he does the warm feeling in his cheeks and she doesn’t miss the way it rises as he catches sight of the soft flush in her cheeks, “You wish your classmates were that in sync.”

She huffs as she walks ahead of him into the alleyway, waiting for the streets to clear before pushing the manhole cover aside. She sits against the entrance, looking at him a little annoyed, “Yeah…” 

She jumps down into the sewer hole and activates her flight ability just in time to float to the bottom. Leo climbs down not too far behind her, touching the pavement a few minutes after.

[bichitosdecolores]

i jus had the funniest interaction

today i participated on my first congress (yei!) and i was standing next to my science-looking poster in a room full of science-looking posters in the middle of the chemistry faculty. so this guy, confidently walking down the hall in a phone call, suddenly stops in front of my poster (the last in a long hall of posters) and ask me what all that is about, to which i answer ”chemistry, biochemistry and stuff like that. He then asks through his phone call “do you want to listen to something on chemistry?” and then after, i suppose a positive answer, he talks to me and asks me to explain my poster. and explain my poster i do. i start talking about aptamers and dna and antibodies like i’ve done a couple times before to all the people (in a chemistry congress) that have asked. i’m like 40 seconds into my explanation when the guy rises his hand and stops me. oh a question, i think, getting ready for it. and then he says “i haven’t understood a thing you say, can you explain it on christian (a way to say “easy terms”)

and then i think, well this is a chemistry congress and a some of people from chemist engineering and pure chemistry have approached before having difficulty understanding the really heavy bio(chemistry) part of my investigation. so this isn’t weird to me. i go back and explain that an antibody is a protein but it sucks for detecting analytes because of denaturalization and blah blah. stuff a biochemist would know by heart but that a pure chemist may not. i’m not even a minute in this new explanation when he stops me again and says he still doesn’t understand, then he says something in what i’m pretty sure was latin and finally reveals he is from the letters and philosophy faculty and got lost and ended up there hshsah.

and he once again asked me to explain it in even simpler terms and i do so (or try) and i end up explaining that antibodies are “lego glue” and influenza is an allergy (??? it’s not!) and enzymes are little boxes that take colors and change them. hshshdba

anyways, best interaction i had all day and now i have his number and i’m friends with a philosopher i think??

[v3nusxsky]

I really like your work ! Could I request Lady Lesso X reader , who is one of the professor's for both schools maybe a warewolf. Often others and wary of her / or are just very mean to her,but reader keeps to herself. The transformation full moon nights are the hardest because they're quite painful and maybe reader seals herself at night when she turns. Idk some angst fluff how Lesso would react ,would she care ?

Thank you lovely anon♥️

What if i hurt you?

*Authors note~ I love this prompt so much feel free to include more super natural things in your prompt I adore them*

Trigger warning~ wearwolves? Loneliness? A/o/b?

Prompt~see ask^^^^

The life of solitude was what you were destined for and through no fault of your own. No you couldn't help the curse you live, but you understood why it scared everyone because it even scared you. Some of the other teachers at the school didn't feel you deserved your position just because of what you were born as. Most view you as dangerous and truly you were far from that. It hurt of course, mean words would always sting especially when you couldn't control this part of you. But you were a good teacher and you knew that.

The students for both schools love you and your lessons that you taught, fortunately they aren't aware of what you are. Pure choice for you to not disclose it however, faculty had to be made aware of it due to you needing a few lessons covered if things got bad. At first you hoped they'd understand and not see you any differently but unfortunately most of them did. You often heard whispers between them about how they pity whoever is destined to mates to a mutt. That one word hurt the most out of the whole sentence. Mutt. Surely they saw you as more than that? After all you were still a person right?

You always kept a close eye on the cycle of the moon, needing to know when you'd transform and get to safety in enough time to ensure not only the safety of everyone at the school but also yourself. You didn't want to hurt anyone and truthfully you didn't trust some members of the staff to not hunt you in your weakest moments. Tonight is the first night of the full moon, you were feeling extra weak this time which is why you took a personal day today and cancelled all your classes for the day. You knew you'd need the time to get all settled and safely hidden away.

When you joined the staff Leonora had offered the room at the top of the school for evil to be a place of safety for you. She had even kitted it out to suit your needs. Only you and the Dean herself knew of this room and it's purpose which is how you'd gotten safely through many nights of transformations. Safely secured with no possibility of anyone being hurt by you. That was until tonight.

You'd managed to tie yourself up to the wall just as you always did after locking the door. So when you saw the door creak open and a silhouette slip into the room, you immediately set into defensive mode. "You need to leave" you growled "it's not safe for you to be here. Leave now" your tone held the harsh bite in the words as your eyes nervously glanced at the moon from the small circled window that allowed the light to seep in. Only then the figure stepped into the light and you saw your visitor.

"Please" you whimpered, "I don't want to hurt you." Your sobs breaking up the words as you felt your bones contort. "But your hurting my love, let me help you please. I've read that having someone close can help. Especially if they are your mate." She whispered aching to hold you in her arms through the pain. "You, you know?" You gasped out threw gritted teeth. "I do love, I felt the pull and did some research into what I can do to ease your pain, you won't hurt me your inner wolf is drawn to me" she stated as a matter of fact and certainty before settling down on the floor near to you. A whine escaped you as you realised there was no use, and truthfully you were craving the women's presence so why waste energy in asking her to leave?

By now you'd fully transformed and let out a simple howl of recognition. Lesso slowly approached your wolf form slumped on the floor and began to talk to you, hoping her voice would guide your wolf into a calm state. It did instantly, your inner wolf recognising her scent and who she is, you came closer to nuzzle the woman's head in greeting before licking her cheek. Normally Lesso would say something witty about it but not wanting to piss your inner wolf off she just settled for cooing about what a pretty wolf you are. The colours of your fur suiting you far better than any she had imagined. You still had those gorgeous eyes though, one of her favourite things to get lost in.

Lesso sat with you all night until you started to whimper in pain once more signalling transformation time. She was expecting you to get up from your resting spot, head in her lap as her hands stroked your fur, but you simply curled in tighter and whimpered. Your whines of pain were truly heartbreaking as the accompanied the sounds of your bones breaking and reattaching into your human form. Yet she simply held you and whispered words of love and support.

The first thing your human brain remembers was her soft tone whispering "you're not a monster my darling, your truly beautiful and I love you so!" With a pained smile you whimpered "I love you Nora" before passing out in exhaustion. Knowing you were safe to be moved she easily scooped up your form in her arms and grabbed her cane before taking you to her waiters and coming to hold you on bed, you stirred slightly allowing you to hear her words. "Rest now my love you're done for the night, I'll be right here love" was the last thing your hazy brain remembered before you gave into the exhaustion once more.

Word count~ 1067

[otherworldseekers]

FFXIVwrite 2023 prompt 13: Check

So here's the second scene of my brand new modern/university/fun with fantasia AU which I'm not sure what to call yet. If you missed the first scene (which was my last FFXIVwrite entry) it is here.

It was the end of the work day and Nero Scaeva, owner of Scaevan Robotics, closed the door to his office behind him. In the break room employees were collecting their belongings and preparing to leave. All except one. Wedge, an intern and student at the local university, was loudly boasting about his significant other and the skills she would be demonstrating that night in a concert of some sort. 

“She’s got the voice of an angel!” Wedge proclaimed, the sappiest of expressions on his face. “You should all come and listen. She’s really going to be something someday. Famous! It’s a chance not to be missed!”

Most of the others simply laughed off the young Lalafell, but Wedge was not discouraged. He turned and saw Nero. “Boss! Boss! You should come too!”

“That’s right, boss. Go get an eyeful of all the pretty college kids while you still can get away with it,” one of the other engineers jeered.

Nero scowled. He had no interest in college kids or anyone a decade younger than him. “I’m afraid I’m busy tonight.”

“Are you really?” A new voice pushed through the end of day chaos. 

“Garlond, what are you doing here?” Nero demanded. Cid Garlond was the owner of Garlond Ironworks, and his rival in all things business and beyond. “I told you to stop acting like this place is yours.”

“Oh, I was waiting out front for you, Nero, but I heard the commotion your young protege was making and thought I might be able to help." He crossed his arms and stared Nero down. “Tell me, what exactly are your plans then?”

Nero’s scowl deepened. Of course he didn’t have any plans but going home, having some dinner and a glass of vodka or two, and sitting by the fireplace with a stack of project reports. Like every evening. He rarely went out. When it did, it was usually with Garlond himself, and the other man knew it perfectly well.

“I’d wager my superior booth placement at the tech expo coming up that you’ve nothing going on,” Cid said smugly. 

Nero’s scowl was turning downright dangerous. “You know perfectly well that you only got that booth placement because your father-”

“Well, Nero? Tell us about your pressing engagement,” Cid pushed. 

Wedge was looking up at Nero with glistening eyes, as if he couldn’t believe his boss would lie to him. 

“Fine,” Nero growled. “It would be an honor to see your lovely girlfriend perform, Wedge. But I’m not exactly welcome at the university, you know.”

The debacle between Nero and the Faculty of the Science department of the college was well known but seldom discussed. Mostly because the subject made Nero fly into a rage. But every new intern heard the story from the long time employees. 

“Oh,” Wedge said, his shoulders slumping. 

“As it happens…” Cid spoke up and pulled a bottle from his pocket. Nero gave him a quelling glare which he ignored. “I have with me an interesting little formula that recently came out of the chemistry department at the U. They wanted my opinion on its viability as a commercial product.”

“Oh!” Wedge perked up. “Is that fantasia?”

“The same,” Cid proclaimed. “And, Nero, it will make you a changed man.”

Nero scoffed. “Fantasia? What kind of rubbish is it?”

“I haven’t seen it used yet, but as I understand it, it allows you to choose an entirely new appearance and metamorphosizes you into that appearance until you drink another dose.”

“That’s right,” said Wedge. “You can choose your race, your gender, all your features. It’s amazing!”

“Garlond, you’re not seriously suggesting I use this snake oil?” Nero sneered. 

“Boss, my best mate, Biggs, helped work on it. It’s not snake oil!” Wedge insisted. “And it would solve our problem. If no one recognizes you, you can come to the recital with no problem!” He positively beamed. 

Nero took a few calming breaths. This was all Garlond’s fault. They both knew that Garlond was trying his hardest to poach Wedge from Scaevan Robotics, and they both knew what Wedge was tempted. After all, Biggs worked for the Ironworks. It was a war between them, just like everything else. Only this time Nero was at a disadvantage. He needed to keep Wedge happy. 

“Very well, Wedge,” Nero reluctantly agreed. “I’ll take the fantasia. I’ll go with you to the recital.”

“Boss!” Wedge said with emotion. “I promise you won’t regret it!”

Nero grabbed the bottle from the smirking Garlond. 

“Have fun, Nero,” said Cid. “I’ll come check on you in the morning and you can tell me all about it.”

[cursedonyx]

Your Sharp/Garlic fics are soooo good! There are so few fics of them and it was very exciting to see more, not to mention ones that are so well-written (and spicy haha). Would love to see more of them in the relationship you’ve set up. I have some ideas for potential writings (though no pressure ofc 💕). I’d love to see something that starts like this…

As time progresses they are found out and Black calls them into his office. The Headmaster’s dislike of faculty relations combined with his blood status obsession makes him particularly disapproving. Aesop shouts at him and without thinking confesses his love for Mirabel (even though ofc it’s the absolute truth).

Thank you again for sharing your fabulous writing!

Thank you! I really appreciate your kind words, and I’m always happy to give back to the fandom!

I managed to knock something together: hope it’s what you were looking for!

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: SWF (hints of NSWF), angst, Professor Black is a bastard

It seemed to Aesop that he was living in something of a dream. Each morning he woke, either in his bed or Mirabel’s, with her hair spread over the pillow, his chest, and the floor, her soft breath in his ear, her bare flesh pressed to his. He made sure to set his alarm a little earlier than normal, to give them both the chance to sneak back to their respective rooms, as if they were once again students.

He started setting it even earlier once he learned Mirabel woke up with a hunger for him as ravenous as his own for her. They would tangle together, trying to keep their voices down, his exhaustion banished at the sight of her beneath him, atop him, bent over before him, and more. And after each morning’s exercise, one or the other would swiftly dress and creep out.

Aesop preferred to visit Mirabel’s rooms, arriving under the cover of darkness once he was sure the prefects and other professors were in bed, no one to see him but the wandering ghosts and house elves, but they’d never question a professor stalking the halls at night. He was used to late-night wanderings, at any rate, and doubted even the other professors would raise much of an eyebrow if they saw him creeping through the corridors in the small hours. He could come up with any number of excuses if he was caught, and besides, his training as an Auror meant he could disguise himself especially well.

Mirabel, not so much. Though she often bemoaned not being able to sneak into his bed while he was asleep and wake him with her tongue whenever she wanted (a fantasy she had shared not too long ago, one he had been only to happy to indulge her in were it not for the fact he was too excited to sleep), Aesop knew it was safer if he went to her. If anyone ever even thought that there was anything happening between them as more than just colleagues, well. There would certainly be some kind of hell to pay.

Phineas Nigellus Black had long stipulated that there was to be no fraternisation amongst the staff, along several other ridiculous rules that simply impeded the running of the school, as opposed to making life easier. He suspected that this particular rule was made out of spite, when the former DADA professor had spurned his advances before Dina took up the position. Where once Aesop had agreed with this rule, knowing that relationships only served to complicate things, adding feelings and hormones and stress into a castle filled with teenagers experiencing exactly the same, now he thought differently.

He couldn’t fathom being without Mirabel. He couldn’t imagine a morning in which he woke and she wasn’t there, her slender hand on his chest, his rougher one settled snugly in the curve of her waist. He couldn’t picture a day without her soft kisses, her gentle smile, her earnest, wide eyes gazing up at him with adoration, her pretty lips stretched wide in ecstasy as they made love. And he couldn’t remember being this happy.

So much, indeed, that his students noticed. In particular, one self-proclaimed prodigy and one-man-fire-hazard, Garreth Weasley.

He’d just added a pinch of powdered moonstone to his Shrinking Solution, and the resulting foul expulsion of farty, green smoke had all but cleared the classroom.

Garreth stared, open mouthed, his weight on his back foot, clearly anticipating a bollocking. When Aesop chuckled, shaking his head and clearing the mess with a wave of his wand, Garreth’s face took on an expression akin to someone who had just noticed a headless Inferi charging at them full pelt.

“Sir?” he said, very, very tentatively. “M-my potion?”

“Start again, Weasley,” Aesop said, returning to his desk as the rest of the class crept back in. “You have time to brew another if you’re quick.” A smile touched the corner of his lips as he reread the note Mirabel had left him which was the reason for his cheerful mood.

My dearest Aesop,

I long for the day we do not have to hide, when we can be as free as a bouncing bulb, as beautiful and happy as a dandelion, bright and yellow in the sun, for my heart is like a Flutterby bush whenever I think of you…

“Sir?”

He jumped, throwing a book on top of Mirabel's note, staring up at Garreth. Alarmed at what he might have seen, his temper flared.

“What?” he demanded.

Garreth seemed almost relieved. “Sir, I need some more minced daisy roots, I was going to get more in Hogsmeade this weekend, but…” he trailed off, a hopeful smile on his face. “Can I have some?”

“Ask your classmates,” Aesop snapped, his heart still jolting painfully in his chest. If Weasley had seen her note… if anyone suspected, if anyone found out… he shook his head, glowering at his desk, though he didn’t miss Weasley sidle past the Gaunt boy and swipe his neat pile of daisy roots, leaving the young Slytherin fumbling around, looking very confused.

Aesop returned his attention to his desk, easing the note out from under the book and into his pocket. Weasley wasn’t a malicious pupil. Overexuberant, perhaps, arrogant when it came to potions, and wild about the edges, but he wasn’t mean. If he’d seen something of the note, surely he wouldn’t say anything. Aesop could just pretend it was something about her promising to restock some of his potions supplies.

But then… Garreth had a mouth on him. He wasn’t the worst gossip Hogwarts had ever seen, but he flapped his gums just enough that the wrong people might hear. If he’d seen the note. Aesop cursed under his breath. Even if he hadn’t, his reaction had clearly given something away. What was the point in being an auror for fifteen years if he got so distracted that he lost sight of his surroundings? Thank Merlin Mirabel hadn’t been around when he was hunting Dark Wizards.

He glanced uneasily around the classroom until he was content there were no more imminent explosions, knowing his focus on the redheaded Gryffindor could easily be passed off as making sure he didn’t fuck up again. That said, one explosion per class was fairly standard for Garreth. They should be in the clear.

_.-~*~-._

Over dinner that evening, Aesop avoided eye-contact with Mirabel, focusing on clearing his plate as fast as he could without giving anything away, or himself indigestion. He rose quickly and risked a glance at her. She quirked an eyebrow, the left one, which he had come to understand as a request to meet in her chambers. He gave a single, curt nod, and hurried from the hall. Casting a disillusionment on himself, he stalked to her room and waited outside, frowning as the Sallow Twins and their Gaunt friend dashed past, giggling. No doubt they were up to yet more mischief, and under different circumstances he would have followed and given them the fright of their lives, but he had to wait for Mirabel.

She arrived not long afterwards, gazing around the corridor with eager anticipation. He cleared his throat softly, and her face split into a stunning smile.

“Aesop? It’s early, why are we…?”

“Inside,” he whispered. “Quickly, I don’t know if anyone else is coming this way yet.”

She nodded and unlocked her door, ushered inside by his hand on her back. He’d barely closed the door behind him and removed his disillusionment before she was on him, her eager lips pressed to his, almost driving all but the most lustful thoughts from his mind.

Almost.

“Mirabel, we need to be more careful,” he said, his breath catching slightly as his hands rested on her hips, drinking in her stunning form. She blinked prettily at him.

“But we are,” she murmured. “We’re cordial with each other, we surely haven’t given anything away?”

Aesop drew out her note.

“This was wonderful,” he said, his voice low. “But we can’t risk it falling into the wrong hands.”

She twisted her mouth, and even that shape was beautiful. “Aesop, surely no one would steal from you? You were an Auror, it’s safe with you.”

His own mouth mimicked hers, his lip curling slightly. His pride wouldn’t quite allow him to admit he’d almost been caught mooning over it in class. “That’s as may be, but it’s not worth the risk, all the same. My time as an Auror taught me to never assume one is safe, Mirabel. I can’t risk Phineas finding out about this, he’d put a stop to it. And I…”

I can’t bear the thought of it, of losing you, of you being made to leave, he thought. He left the rest of his sentence unsaid, preferring to pull her to his chest, brushing his lips over her silken hair. He knew as well as anyone Black had a personal vendetta against muggleborns, and the only reason Mirabel had the position she did was because no one else wanted the job. He’d fire her in a heartbeat, if he was given the chance. He couldn’t let that happen.

“The risk is too great,” he murmured. “We must be careful, my rose. No more notes, no more poetry. We should probably limit our nightly visits as well.”

Mirabel leaned back and gave him such a stern look that he almost felt like a schoolboy again, caught sneaking into the kitchens.

“There are many things I will give up in order to preserve our secrecy,” she said, her voice firm. “But not that. Not you. Not ever.” She kissed him again, harshly this time, her lips demanding as she gripped his waistcoat, drawing him into an ever-rising spiral that blanked his mind and left him murmuring non-words against his lips. He couldn’t have resisted her if he tried.

_.-~*~-._

Another day, another third-year potions class, and another exercise in keeping his cool when Garreth tried to add powdered Bicorn Horn to his Babbling Brew. Aesop caught him just before he tipped it in, giving the Weasley such a masterful glare that he was surprised the young Gryffindor didn’t start smoking at the hem.

Shaking his head, Aesop continued to limp around the classroom, offering advice and mild criticism in equal measure, keeping one eye on the time, eager for the end of the day.

It had been a week since the incident with the note, and perhaps it was just his paranoia, but it certainly seemed that he’d been receiving some funny looks from his fellow professors, starting with Matilda. But when nothing else came of it, he tried to put it out of his mind, hoping that if Garreth had let something slip, Matilda at least would have the sense not to say anything to Black.

But then, the students had started giving him funny looks as well. His suspicions were almost confirmed when Anne Sallow wore a very large and bright tulip on her robes during his last class with the third-years, her grin dancing between mischievous and malicious. Surely it didn’t mean anything. Surely it was just a trend. Even if there was a rumour doing the rounds, he’d heard far worse about his colleagues that had petered out after a week or two. This was nothing. It had to be nothing.

But that didn’t stop him worrying, precisely because he didn’t know what was being said. If there was a rumour going around about him and Mirabel, he couldn’t risk it getting back to Black. Black had a singular inability to differentiate between truth and bullshit, seemingly preferring to take the latter as gospel, particularly if it enabled his views in some way…

Swallowing past a dry throat, Aesop determined to find out what, if anything was being said, when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Garreth had a handful of Bicorn Horn, and his fist was flashing towards his cauldron.

“DON’T!” Aesop roared, diving forward and yanking the child out of the way, just as the potion exploded, covering him head-to-toe in scarlet Babbling Brew.

The class erupted in laughter as he spat out a gobbet of foul-tasting liquid, praying none of it had gotten into his system. He turned, very slowly, to glare down at Garreth, whose face was an interesting mix of pride and terror.

“Detention,” Aesop managed, clearing the mess away with his wand. “Three nights. And points from Gryffindor. Again.”

“Aw, but sir…!”

“I TOLD you not to add Bicorn Horn!” Aesop yelled. “You deliberately disobeyed me! Consider yourself fortunate I have not given you a worse punishment!”

Garreth shrank back, his eyes going wide as the class went silent. Clenching his fists, Aesop set his jaw and stalked back to his desk.

“Class is dismissed. Out, all of you.”

He put his head in his hands as the students filed out, their mutters like a storm of billywigs against his ears. If nothing else would convince the Hogwarts Rumour Mill that something was ‘up,’ then that would have done it. He sighed, slowly, and mumbled something under his breath. He continued to mutter, until his eyes widened.

It seemed he’d ingested some of Garreth’s potion after all. And who knew what kind of side effects Bicorn Horn would have caused? He jumped to his feet, heading for his office where he kept a neat stock of antidote for all kinds of mishaps, when the classroom door burst open, revealing the most unwelcome figure in the school aside from Peeves.

Professor Black stood framed in the doorway, tall and slim, his goatee oiled and shining. He lowered his brows, glaring imperiously around the classroom.

“Sharp!” he barked. “I’d like a word.”

“In a moment, sir,” Aesop said, his words coming so fast they almost tripped over each other. “There was a mishap in class, Matilda’s nephew caused a small explosion, I need to take an antidote for-”

“Have you been poisoned?” Black demanded.

“No, it was a Babbling Brew, harmless by all accounts, simply irritating, but he added-”

“Then it can wait,” Black glared at him. “My office. Now. There is something of a serious nature I must discuss with you.”

“Just one moment,” Aesop said, his heart beginning to jackhammer against his ribs. “I only need to-”

“When I say now, I mean now,” Black snapped. “Leave your damn potions and do as I have bid you!”

With little choice but to obey, Aesop followed him out of the classroom, muttering under his breath the whole way about how he’d like to curse the pompous asshat seven ways to Sunday, amongst other threats and the occasional prayer that he wasn’t headed into the very meeting he dreaded. He kept far enough from Black that he was sure his whisperings went unheard, but Merlin only knew what kind of trouble his mouth would get him into if the potion didn’t wear off before they got to Black’s office.

Reaching Black’s office, they strode inside, and Aesop’s heart plummeted. Mirabel was already there, perched on the edge of one of the hard chairs before the desk, her head down, her fingers clasped.

“Mirabel? What are you doing here? What’s going on?” he gabbled, trying vainly to pull back the stream of consciousness before he started blabbing about how perfectly wonderful she looked, the late afternoon sun catching in her hair and making the strands of copper glow like an autumn hearth. She peered up at him.

“Professor Sharp? Is… everything alright?”

It was all he could do not to proclaim his love for her then and there, the use of his title sending warmth coursing through his torso, chilled by the prickling fear scampering over his shoulders as Black strode behind his desk, his face set in a dreadful scowl.

“Babbling Brew,” he explained, in a rush, unable to temper the speed of his speech. “It was that little bugger, Matilda’s nephew, I told him not to add Bicorn Horn but he didn’t listen, it blew up all over me and I managed to ingest some, I can’t stop ruddy talking!”

“You will,” Black demanded. “I must discuss something of a serious nature with you both.” He glowered, his upper lip curling. Mirabel gulped audibly, and Aesop tensed, longing to take her hand and comfort her, shield her from what was to come. He didn't dare, just in case it was something else.

“I have long stipulated that relationships between professors is strictly forbidden,” Black announced, leaning on his desk. Aesop flinched. It was what he dreaded. “I have heard the most unsettling rumours about the pair of you, and the amount of time you spend together simply confirms it!”

“We’re colleagues,” Mirabel said, meekly. “Nothing more, sir. Potions and Herbology is delicately intertwined, and much of what I grow is used in Professor Sharp’s class…”

“Silence!” he barked. “I should have expected nothing less from a witch of your background, Garlick. You believe the rules no longer apply to you because you’re a student? You are sorely mistaken!”

“Sir, I don’t know what you’re implying,” Aesop said, knowing he should keep his mouth shut as a simmering fury began to bubble in his chest at the injustice to Mirabel. “Professor Garlick’s right, there’s nothing between us other than two professionals-”

“Rubbish!” Black snapped. “I won’t have you stand there and lie to me, Sharp! Unfortunately, I cannot afford to lose you, you have been here for too long and you seem to be one of the few members of staff that is capable of keeping those little toerags in line! But you,” he turned to Mirabel, who shrank back in her chair. “You are replaceable.”

“She is not,” Aesop growled. “There is no finer Herbologist in the country, Phineas, and you would do well to remember that.”

Black passed him a softly cruel smirk. “I see. I presume your sudden outburst of chivalry is nothing whatsoever to do with these rumours I have heard?”

He clenched his jaw, but his silence seemed to be all the answer Black needed.

“If there was nothing between you that explicitly broke the rules I have written to ensure the better running of this school, then there will be no objection to my finding a more appropriate teacher,” he stated. His voice was grave, but the wicked gleam in his eye gave away the enjoyment he was getting from this. “After all, what could a muggleborn know more than a true wizard? What on earth makes her so special?”

And before Aesop could stop himself, he’d snatched a handful of Black’s robes, yanking him half over the desk with a snarl so that they were nose to nose.

“You’ll never know,” he spat. “You’ll never know how special she is, nor how much I love her. You’re too addled by pureblood mania to ever understand.”

It all happened in a literal flash. One moment, Black was rearing back, ready to strike, to punish them both, and that would be alright, because he would still be with Mirabel, and then there was a sudden whirlwind of green beside him as she leapt to her feet, her wand out.

“OBLIVIATE!” she screamed, and there was a flash of silver light, and Black crumpled over the desk. Aesop leapt back with an oath, staring at her.

“Mirabel?” he reached out a shaking hand to brush her hair back from her face. “What have you done?”

“What I had to,” she said, glaring at Black’s unconscious form, slumped forward. “He would have fired me. Probably you as well. I can’t lose this job, Aesop,” she curled into him. “And I can’t lose you.”

She peered up at him, her lashes wet. “Did you mean it? What you said? Do you really love me?”

He blinked. Had he really said that? Out loud? In front of Black?

Yes. Yes he had.

“I did mean it,” he murmured, cupping her cheek and drawing her into a gentle kiss. “I love you, Mirabel.”

She smiled, her lower lip quivering. “I love you, too.”