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blueparadis · 2 years

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▏CAN'T PRETEND ▏M.SANO ▏

+. content warnings — afab-reader, college au, modern au, college boy!Manjiro and college boy! Draken, enemies to lovers, angst, mention of Draken, Baji, Kazutora, Mitsuya, Emma, OCs, explicit smut, oral acts, mature language. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

+. synopsis — Draken, it was all draken; it was his fauilt that Manjiro came to know about your feelings for him but you didn’t regret it, you regretted what happened afterward. ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

+. notes — HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY SUNSHINE BOY ( I LOVE EVERY VERSION OF HIM) & this piece is a part of “begrudging beloved”, hosted by @hishalo .

— you can also read this in ao3. It took hours for me to format this post because tumblr decided to thrash my remnant energy.I'm so very tired that I feel stoned.

⌗ tags —» @fueledbysano @michiphoria @cursedmoonchild word count — 10k REBLOGS ARE GREATLY APPRECIATED | tap here to view my works.

Manjiro Sano, the heart and sunshine of the college. He was good at sports, quite fertile-brained in academics, and always managed to be in good books with the professors even though he was the pioneer of anything that could sprout into a chain of never-ending trouble.

With Ken Ryuguji on his side all the time, he seemed unreachable yet he had a bevy of girls around him. Most girls swooned over him and he did not exactly enjoy the stares but never bothered to shoo them away. Why would he? He didn't have to do much for their attention; better put it to good use rather than throw it all away.

He was the most outspoken among his friends. Something about him stirred an affinity among most hearts. Was it his smile, his kindness, his mischievous acts? you couldn’t tell. He was a boy full of dreams and the heart wrecker of your soul.

He excelled at keeping up roses and sunshines reputation of his but when you first saw him it shattered too much to mend by itself. He was at the infirmary getting his cock sucked by a senior of his. Boxers gathered at the foot, the jersey tossed aside while his hands were rested on the bed.

There were rounds of practice matches on that day that provided him the perfect opportunity to sneak out. His skin glowing in dim light, soaking in sweat. Eyes closed, the head was thrown back and you exhaled a sharp breath when he flipped his head in the front followed by a husky groan.

At that moment, as you watched him struggle with his breath, gasping and panting heavily, his eyes fell over you. And you immediately vanished in the nearest girl's washroom almost under the reflex.

Sick. Horrid. Who does he think he is? It's not like no one's stopping them but why here? why here of all places? Unfortunately, that wasn't the last encounter. Since your art class was on the fifth floor, opposite the playground it gave a great view, a subject to think about, for most students but you, it turned out to be your maddening distraction.

Classes were fine and with a friend like Naomi, you couldn't ask for more. She was the principal’s daughter but she never exposed the flag to show dominance, to have her way with everything. And that's why you liked her.

Who the fuck cares about the talk going behind your back? And knowing Naomi, she couldn't bother to give a flying fuck who spewed nonsense into her ears, saying that you were trying to use her, to be in good books with her to clear semesters and blah blah blah.

“What’re you going to have for breakfast Nao?”, she peered through her eyelashes pouting a little trying to give thought to you.

“Unlike you, I eat my breakfast and don't stay up late either. So. . .”

“Yea! Yea! Yea! Got it. I'll be right back then.”, rolling your eyes heavenwards, you quickly ended her trail of talk otherwise she'd soon start sounding like your mom.

That was your routine and you never go out of it since this was the only time when you could know if he was absent or present, playing a match or not, having a practice study session, or just detention.

Somedays, Mitsuya, Naomi’s boyfriend came with snacks and you could still find yourself searching for him, Manjiro. It's a good thing that you've English in common with Draken otherwise it's like a circle in a spiral just to get a glimpse of him.

And without Draken, Manjiro hit like a cold wave washing over your soul every time you crossed paths with him. As you reached the food court, you beamed and your heart leaped with joy finding Draken at the usual spot. He was friendly, and well-mannered unlike his friend; why couldn't you just like him instead?

“How was the first class?”, Draken said as he grabbed his bag to put it near the foot of the table.

“The usual. I’m glad I pulled the all-nighter otherwise I would have lost this scholarship”, you quipped adjusting yourself beside him.

“ Da faq ”, Draken screamed. His eyes focused on your body, eyebrows growing closer with annoyance as you try to figure out his awful usage of words, that too in the morning. It's way too early for this.

“God! Sometimes I don't know whether you're careless or just thoughtless. ”, he gives his jersey to you gesturing to put it on. And as you did, you realize that the high-neck ivory top didn't do a great job hiding your bra color. The bra lining was perfectly visible if it were to be against the sunlight.

“I was in a hurry so…”, Draken's eyebrows jumped at your feeble try to put up an explanation as if he hasn’t heard thousands of lame excuses of yours, “Yeah, I’m sorry.”, you amended instantly putting those strained focused eyes of worry at ease.

After the first period, both of you had a free class and he has always been the first to hit the canteen since he has grown accustomed to your ways and habits — of being punctual even if it meant skipping your breakfast. Hence, he is always ready to pay for your breakfast. He is nice and kind but he isn’t witless. He knows which button to press to impress you, which to piss you off and which to use to get to his girl, Emma.

“I’ve one more class, that too a self-study one, then all classes are dissolved...Ah Shit”

“Why are you like this y/n?”, Draken tried to imitate your tone. silencing the call that lit up his phone he apologetically asked, “no but seriously y/n. Why are you so irritated?”

“I did not just come for a single class, well, it wasn’t all in vain . . . ”, of course, it wasn’t. Only two classes and the rest are dissolved. What could be more time-captivating than to watch him play while all you do is sit at a lonely corner of a bench to watch his current ‘fling’ being all over him?

She wasn't the one who had given him a blow job. She was different, a brunette and this one was a blonde bitch. Sometimes you just wanted to scream from the bottom of your lungs to tell everyone how much of scum is he but you couldn't just do that. It's not like he has come after you or harmed you but such a foul act of violating the rules made you snap every time you spotted him with a girl.

“Ken-chin.”, a high-pitched voice. “I knew I’d find you here”, created ripples in your pool of thoughts. It was him. The person you managed to avoid throughout the semester and you were successful if he hadn't just showed up in your favorite place. As much as his presence made you restless from afar, his very presence next to you boiled your blood oozing out annoyance, sometimes anger. He was way too full of himself, the only flaw you could pin till now.

Manjiro sat in front of his friend and before he could take a good look at you, you tapped Draken’s shoulders and left immediately. No words were exchanged and you wanted to keep it that way.

Even though you wanted to know him, you never wished to catch his attention simply because first, you wouldn't stand a chance against those popular girls he has been with or might not fit his needs or probably you're not his type.

Second, why would he even bother to look at you when he has a horde of hot chicks just a tap away? Moreover, it wouldn’t end well for you. While he’ll remain unscathed you’ll become more mutilated than before since there’s no coming back if he ever initiates the first step. After all, just like most of the girls you too had a crush on him.

That day at the infirmary when you saw him you knew you’d be treated just like others, a page to turn over. You could never blame him for that even in all your sanity. He dated girls, he fucked them witless, probably some relationships were broken because of him but you still didn't think he was bad.

They did say love is blind but if that was the case you would at least try once to be in his vicinity thinking he might be kind enough to pick a withering flower like you. But, he would never; Manjiro would never be the one to pick you because you are bad for his health, too pure for his bad habits, and, that he’ll know with just a glance.

Even if he accidentally picks you, all your emotions will come crashing down like a castle of sand struck by his wave of crude, cold tactics. There was no other result of such borrowed love.

Everyone was kind of aware of his flirty behavior but none knew he fucked girls witless in the changing room after winning the match except his team, the girls he tossed to Baji and then to Kazutora after a while getting bored with them.He hated losing. Miraculously, his team never lost official matches. He was always very passionate about what he wanted, be it victory or you.

“Na Ken-chin !…who’s that girl wearing your jersey?, Manjiro asked while his eyes watched you fade into the group of students like a hawk. “Tell me who is she.”

Draken has known him since his childhood and knowing Manjiro, he won’t stop chaffing at him throughout the day until he gets what he wants. Ryuguji lets out a sigh as his thoughts come to an end.

“She is y/n y/l/n. Arts major. quite quick on the tongue but doesn't talk much. she's good at sports too … and she likes to wear light-colored tops, mostly one-pieces. ” Draken states everything with a straight face except that you’re close to Emma since it would be troublesome for both of you. His eyes are focused on his plate that is getting emptied by Manjiro as he robotically spills every single detail he knew about you, that he has noticed since you've been friends with him from the beginning of the year.

And then, he pauses noticing his empty plate before finally adding the finishing touch for your introduction. Manjiro gives up searching for that familiar jacket in the crowd as his eyes finally focused on his friend.

“and today she's wearing a red bra.”, Draken utters meekly as his eyes dart onto his friend’s pale face from the empty plate. His cheeks flushed at his comment.

“Da faq Ken-chin”, Manjiro coughed covering his mouth with the length of his arm. “what’s it have to do with who she is?” He starts to cuss at him which does nothing but brighten up Baji's day who was watching all of these from the corner of the food counter.

Baji was sure taken aback when Manjiro showed interest in a girl. From what he has observed, he never had to take the first step, that is, to gather intel because it’s always the girls who lurk in his range like a moth. Manjiro was more than ready to burn their wings. But Alas! You were a butterfly, so very far from his range yet so tempting to his insatiable ways of hunger.

Draken tossed his bag over his shoulder leaving Manjiro in absolute dismal as he exclaims with a grin, “she’s too good for you. Don't get attached.”, before leaving the table.

Manjiro doesn't get to talk back much since he's still trying to recover from his thought about you since he has seen enough naked girls have an idea how you would be, under that white silk dress with red lingerie set.

But why the fuck Draken would notice such detail about you? You are just some random girl whom he has often seen around himself in breaks. Not that he was much bothered

But Manjiro always wanted to believe that it was a lot more than just some lucky coincidences. And, even though he knew you had seen him in the infirmary he never thought it would be wise to make you aware that he recognized you the very next day.

Still, he was hoping too much. After all, he has seen a lot of his friends going haywire in emotions, affections or love, or whatever they prefer to call it. To him, you were another passing cloud but for you, he was the whole sky full of grey hues, devoid of rainbows and sapphire serenity

“Emma you’re here? Don’t you have classes?”, Naomi’s voice was audible through the corridors. You smiled to yourself since it’s rare for her to come and visit your class. Thanks to whatever meeting the teacher’s council was having, the students could finally breathe freely and even fly.

“Well, it’s all dissolved and I know you two have another class which is more of a self-study period. So, I came to visit. I was getting bored.”

“I’m back”, Naomi and Emma were startled by your excitement. You quickly got rid of Draken’s jersey and handed it to Emma. At first, she hesitated but when you both of you smirked wiggling eyebrows towards her at a rhythm, she could not help but take it with a grin plastered on her face.

“Let me take some pictures”, you muttered taking the phone out of your pocket.

“Woah! You’re quick-witted. And good at this”, Naomi praised as Emma put the jacket on. It was double her size. Still, she looked so adorable.

After taking a few pictures Emma warned, “Do not show them to Draken.” “Aye Aye Ma’am”, you and Naomi, both said in unison perfectly making it clear, that Draken is getting those pictures before her. He’ll get a boner if he sees Emma in his jacket.

The clouds started to cluster at the bosom of the sky while the boys were at the peak of playing volleyball. You glanced through the window and it first fell on Manjiro, then on Mitsuya. You didn’t seem to find Draken, not yet.

“It might rain soon. The forecast said there will be a heavy downpour. Emma, why don’t you go home? I’ve car so I’ll drop Y/n home and we’re staying for a bit to work on our projects.”, Naomi suggested.

Although, Emma didn’t seem to like the idea. She agreed but she needed to inform her brother that she was going home early.

She faded into the corridor while you picked up your palette knife. Keeping the cake crumb in your mouth you started to paint the blank canvas. Naomi was talking to her mom. You noticed Emma running through the field to go to his brother.

“What the actual fuck?”, it took a while to connect the dots; Manjiro Sano, shortly Mikey or Mike. You were aware of both of his nicknames but Emma’s Mikey and the heart-throb of this college would be the same person was a tough fact to digest. You could feel your heartbeats against your ear drums while you watched Manjiro nod at his sister’s predicament and smile at her.

Now, that’s new. You’ve been watching him for months now, well you had to. If you could change your college you’d do it in a heartbeat but that’s impossible so as this; to get a glimpse of him smiling so happily. Even when he was with his friends it was close to scoffing or smirking.

You watched Emma run towards the school building with a grin on her face and when your eyes went back towards Manjiro, his eyes were already on you. Nerves stilled, breathing seemed to stop, you counted your heartbeats sitting like a statue eyes settling on him.

You pondered. Perhaps, he was watching someone else but when you looked towards the coach at the sound of the whistle, he immediately averted his gaze. He was looking towards the net, where players were yet to take positions and the coach was standing.

Damn, he was watching you. It was just a mere fraction of the moment like a flickering light yet it recoiled back to the first eye contact you had with him, vile yet exhilarating! You spotted Baji, Kazutora, and Draken as your eyes scanned the field.

The time flew faster than you imagined. Naomi was busy with her project and judging by the splotches on her dress she got stuck with her art project. Your canvas remained empty since every time you tried to give a shape to your thought his face would appear as well as vanish instantly. Your mind was restless, and so was your soul and you cussed him for that.

The rain had just started pouring. All the boys were still playing except Manjiro. It is not that hard to pick a blonde boy with a short stature among all of them or maybe he rubbed off on you. You scoffed as the thought of being bound to him by anything other than hatred crossed your mind.

The corridor was empty and devoid of the normal chatter. The only sound that prevailed was of the splattering raindrops against the window pane. Manjiro was merrily whistling walking through that lonely corridor and texting his friends to come over to Izana’s place.

Izana, Izana Kurokawa; his step-brother. He was still studying with the aid of scholarships. Unlike his brother, he wasn't very athletic. He was all brains and beauty. He graduated three years earlier than Manjiro. The smile in his yearbook photo declared that he could win many hearts in an instant.

Manjiro had no problem arranging for a place to chill and relax since he gets a little shy in front of his eldest brother, Shinichiro. It’s not the place, it’s the person, he would say. Being ten years elder than him, Shinichiro was like his dad. So, he was always confined in Izana especially in the matters of heart and girls because he believes Shinichiro wasn't like them;

While he held the ability to attract butterflies even though they never seem to come back, Izana and Manjiro were always the flames that would burn their wings. Such was their jealousy, their possessiveness.

Albeit, it would be less tedious to bring a girl over to his house rather than Zana's but Shinichiro had an idea how much it would mean to a girl while his gem of a brother would remain oblivious to such blooming emotions. So, Shinichiro declared a straight no to such habits.

“Listen, Zana. Emma went home early. We’re coming over to your place. Did you score?”

“Yep. How many are coming today?”, Izana exhaled as he checked the watch, 7:30 pm.

Manjiro paused. Draken went to drop Emma. Mitsuya would get busy with his girl.

“It’s just Baji, Tora. Two.”, he wiped his body with his jersey.

“No, make it three” He ended the call immediately and quickly hid against the turn of the corridor as he saw you standing absent-mindedly staring at the rain. There she is, the girl in red.

Without much thinking, he strolled towards you.

“Do you know where”, if he didn’t grab your hand you’d have bashed your head against the floor? His fingers remain clamped around your wrist. You exhaled strongly at such a surprise and before you composed yourself properly as he asked again, “Do you know where Draken is?”

“He went along with Emma to drop her home.”, It’s odd that he has to ask since you clearly remember Emma being all giddy while mentioning that Manjiro insisted on taking someone with her, someone as in Draken.

“Leaving you all alone…”, you quickly detached your hand from his hold and tucked it behind your waist. Your eyebrows congested at his remark.

What did he exactly mean by that? Why? Why would he leave me alone? First of all, why the fuck does he think we’ve something that might end up with him leaving me?

“Well, if you’re free you can come with us.”,

“She isn’t”, Naomi slipped in. Perfect.

Being Mitsuya’s girl as well as the daughter of the principal she was desired by many, perhaps Manjiro too but only to fuck her up. There is nothing he hated more than when he didn't get what he wanted and when his ploy gets an unmendable deviation.

“She is coming with us. I’m going to drop her home after Karaoke”

“What? When did that happen?”, Mitsuya’s jaw dropped because in this weather he would rather spend his time with Naomi rather than along with her friends in karaoke. Manjiro noticed how the love birds talked in eye codes and let out a short throaty chuckle. His pitch black pupils shun in thrill.

“So, if you change your mind. Let me know. I’ll be at the changing room”, he crossed by you leaving you in utter anger and disgust.

“I won’t. I won’t change my mind every time you ask.”, you bit your bottom lip inwards to control your anger but it was in vain.

“And as for Draken, he asked me before leaving with Emma.”, you lied and when he looked back at you, his aghast gaze was the greatest victory.

You walked away into your room leaving Naomi and Mitsuya baffled at your behavior. They kinda knew how you hated him but they happen to believe it’s the otherwise.

Manjiro didn’t realize he was grinning at your sharp display of wit until Baji smacked at the back of his head exclaiming that he looked like a stuffy toy, like Mickey mouse. He let out a trail of throaty chuckles this time gaining Baji’s stares.

“One, two”, Izana searched for number three as he held the door open with a cigarette pressed in between his teeth. He was barely dressed. “Where is number three?”

“Not coming.”, baji and Hanemiya followed as Manjiro stomped through his lavish apartment and sat in the middle of the sofa.

“She’s not easy.”, Baji added

“Ah, it’s a She”, Izana said with a dragging tone earning Manjiro’s stare.

“Yeah, she isn’t easy. Any girl would have jumped at an opportunity like that. How close is she with Ken-chin?”

“Quite close!”, Kazutora added as he started to roll a joint. Manjiro’s eyes flared at Baji and then to Kazutora who seemed too focused on his joint than usual.

“How close are they?”, Manjiro’s voice was stern, bold laced with possessiveness. At first, Baji hesitated, but when Izana nodded at the way he gave in.

“Well, word around the campus is y/n has a crush on him.”

“We all know about Draken but no idea about how he feels about y/n”, Kazutora finished Baji’s thought as he sealed the joint with the tip of his tongue.

For the first time, Manjiro felt awful about himself. Not for craving you only for himself even if that would last only for a few months, but because you saw right through him. He never bothered too much to find answers for why. He thinks those bring more trouble than lies. So, he didn’t give a flying fuck why he was so hooked on you. He just wanted you.

“What are you doin’?”, Draken asked from the other side of the phone.

“Ah! Cursing myself to death”, you said as you gazed at the imprint Manjiro Sano left on your right hand of his hold

“Ya’ know y/n Mikey was asking about you… and”

“And you told everything you know about me?”

“Fuck, at least be a little happy. At least you caught his eyes”

“Why? Why would I be? He is … forget it. I don’t wanna talk about it”

“Oh, c’mon do you think I wouldn't notice how you look at him? ALL THE TIME? ”

“I don’t know. You’re not getting those jersey pics of Emma's. Good night”, your cheeks flushed at his remark. Yes, you watched him. You watched him every chance you would get but if only Draken knew that you could never have him the way you wanted, only yours. So, you had to bury the feeling of liking him before it would bloom into love.

The next day, you couldn’t spot him anywhere on the campus. Even Draken didn’t know his whereabouts. Emma was hard to find too but since she was finally making some progress with Ken, you swallowed your curiosity, your bubbles of worried thoughts about him. Baji, Kazutora - those two were your only option since Nao as well as Mitsu would rather leap with joy thinking you’ve finally come to terms with their opinion. Sometimes, they’re so mom and dad to you.

It has been almost two weeks since you stopped going to the canteen; three since you didn’t spot Manjiro. The former had hurt you more since watching Draken and Emma soaked in happiness and with promised roses, it made you aware of how lonely you were. It is not that Emma stole your place; you never had a place, to begin with. You knew that from the very beginning but to see it all play out was such an eyesore.

At last, you decided to drop by the changing room. You could hear different male voices overlapping with each other. It was difficult to recognize. The moment you entered the volleyball court, there was a silent wave that washed over both of you as you spotted Manjiro spiking the ball. He noticed you since you leaned against the railing over the balcony. It is the last set and surely it wouldn’t hurt to wait and watch him play.

One more score and then the practice match would be over. It was Baji’s turn to serve. You inhaled a deep breath as you started to walk toward the exit but a sharp voice made you jolt. Still, it didn’t stop you.

“Hey the girl in red” “Hey y/n”, it was his voice, Manjiro. you searched for him and as your eyes landed on him he smiled brightly. Your heart leaped into the core of your throat.

“Wait for me. Please. Till the finish the game.”, with all the loneliness and sadness piling up inside your body, you barely could bite back like most of the time and hence you had to wait.

As the game finished you stood near the entrance of the changing room. Kazutora left without much fuss but Baji eyed you up and down, then looked at Manjiro before leaving.

“Thanks for waiting!”, he quipped as you offered him your insulated water bottle still trying to figure out your actions. If you still had a place to go after the first period, as you had a few weeks ago; perhaps, you wouldn't have been here. Thanks to Draken.

“Did you tell anyone?”, Manjiro noticed the confusion in your eyes. “About what you saw at the infirmary last semester?”, your eyebrows jumped as the memory flashed at the back of your head.

He emptied the bottle over himself and drank the rest of the cold water as his dark globes scanned you.

Manjiro was at his limit, cautious around you since he never dealt with your kind. The kind that would look breathtakingly beautiful while drowning in vulnerability. He didn’t know that until he noticed you coming day in and day out at the canteen. Watch you stare at Draken and Emma as you grabbed a packed food and then leave without a word.

Manjiro knew you were friends with his sister and secretly he was thankful for the friendship that kept you from being the third wheel in her relationship. But what he couldn’t digest was how you looked at Draken.

It is such a vicious cycle how Manjiro will never know how you looked at him, thought of him, and pushed him out of your soul before you gave in to the illuminating flame of affection.

“No” His eyes were pale. “My turn. Did you seriously make me wait to ask this?”

Even though Manjiro wanted to slam you against his closet, hold your thighs tightly to kiss those soft lips of yours, he couldn’t. Manjiro banged shut his closet making you a jolt.

“Sorry. Did that startle you?”, you felt awful when he thrashed your question just like Draken slowly forgot to buy food for you.

“No. your behavior did”, you tartly spoke and vanished from his sight as soon as possible. He watched you as your faded in your off-white dress. She likes to wear dark-colored inners.

It was almost the end of another semester. All were busy preparing for their exams and at a boiling moment like this, your phone rang in that familiar ringtone. It was Draken.

“Yes, what?”

“I need your help y/n”

“With what? Notes? We’re from different streams Draken. Plus, I’m sure Emma would be happy to help you with that. She knows everyone, bye”

“Wait, wait wait. I need your help” and that tone alone declared that he still hasn’t confessed his feelings. You rolled your eyes since even without the confession they looked like they made it official.

Around four o'clock in the morning, the call ended. He was complaining about how you stopped coming to the canteen and when you came clean, he was so nice to apologize at length, probably overdid it.

The day exams ended, Emma and Naomi insisted you on attending the party at Izana’s penthouse, more like dragged you in it saying it would be fun but here you are standing on the lonely balcony while others were dancing, drinking, and enjoying their youth to the fullest.

After the end of every semester, this was a must. And all thanks to Izana. After his mom died he inherited all the wealth. Even though, he was adopted he inherited all the property as well as the alimony. At first, he didn’t want it. Cursed money he’d say to Ran but the rumor has it a certain girl changed his devilish heart. They’re not together though; It is a wonder how a devil let go of his angel who was ready to soak all his sins.

As soon as you entered the room where DJ was set up, Draken pulled Emma after nodding in your direction. You smiled as you knew what he meant. He is going to confess today. Emma dragged you into the crowd. Emma is not much of a freestyle dancer, she wished to pursue ballet so she stood in a corner watching both of you go wild. You felt a bit remorse thinking she might misunderstand but then again you can’t say explain yourself not when she has not asked for it. It would backfire.

But when Manjiro saw you, you were already swinging your hips along with Ryuguji who seemed too absorbed in the moment. Naomi went to search for Mitsuya. You spotted a guy with a sleeveless vest, headphones around his nape moving his body in rhythm. His tattoo was glowing in the dim light. He looked so hot. You searched for a familiar stature since Rindou was never alone, he always had his brother, Ran by his side even if they were polar in every way.

As you skimmed through the crowd you bumped into Kazutora. He was a bit handsy, and so were you. You still couldn’t spot Manjiro which was a good sign. “Sorry Y/n”, his breath was refreshing non-alcoholic unlike other guys but his eyes declared how stoned he was.

You grabbed his hand and pulled him to a side where it’s less crowded. His ear-spread smile was enough to let you know how thankful he was. A dark-haired boy with emerald green eyes came to his savior. Kazutora immediately wrapped his arms around him and you excused yourself as you noticed the eyes of the other guy. Some would say he’s high but you tend to believe it was little more than just friends.

“Wanna paint your body y/n ?” speak of the devil. You turned your gaze towards Izana who just finished painting Manjiro’s body. A face of a lion on his back. No wonder Izana was selected as a guide for the previous art exhibition. Unfortunately, you missed it since you still hadn’t enrolled in this university.

Manjiro started complaining about how there’s no point in painting his body if he can’t see it. Izana ignored and nudged him to move aside. You hesitated at first, but when you noticed most of the girls were in short tops, you swallowed your inner thoughts before slipping the shirt on the floor.

Now, you were just in a skirt, a pant, and a lacy black bra.Izana grinned. He tapped the cigarette as he kept the brush in the paint bucket. He looked at Manjiro and then towards you before leaving. Great, so everyone knows how you hated him, liked him, or whatever.

Manjiro stood in front of you with that brush in his hand as every sound seem to fade. Can’t you just live for once? Can’t you just have him? Just for once? What could he possibly do in the remaining two semesters?

The moment he was about to say something there was a power cut. A shrill cry of disappointment echoed through the room while you thanked the heavens. You wanted to go away from this place as soon as possible and this seemed like a perfect chance. “Just stay.”, a feeble voice reached your ears while Manjiro pulled you to an adjacent cubicle where the moonlight fell over your face.

The power was back up, and so was the music. He still had the brush in his hand. “Why were you dancing with Ken?”, eyes boring into you as he cornered you more. “Because your sister dragged me”

“Half-sister”, he corrected.

“I don’t care. Move”, you raised your voice as you felt your pulse rising.

“What if I don’t ?”, he blocked the exit with his arm having your naked belly brush the length of his arm. “Look at me”, his lips brushed your ears.

“What if I don’t?”, but your words were responded with action. Manjiro swiftly pulled you against his firm chest. His skin was burning. You froze at his audacity and were ready to scream.

“You’re free to do anything you want”, his limb grazed your boobline. “And so am I”, he murmured before turning you around.

It happened within a blink of an eye. Your hands were above your head pinned by his, one of his legs shoved under your skirt as he sucked your lips. You wanted this, wanted to have him. So what if he forgets after a few months and calls you just for sex? You were not bound to answer him, were you?

“Do you still want me to move?”, he asked. Breathing perfectly normal while you struggled to inhale. You looked at him since his question is so baseless given the fact that he still held your hands above your head. “Right ‘course”, he let go of your hands. As he was about to walk away, you grabbed his toned muscular arm. He is strong. He turned around and nothing need to be said since he noticed your soft parted lips. And just like that, a butterfly was ready to burn its wings in fire, like an ordinary moth.

When you opened your eyes, you were in an oversized shirt, your pants and wrapped in his arms. Manjiro was still sleeping, his blonde strands of hair curled at the bottom. His back was half-clad with the cover. You removed the quilt from him in an instant as the last night’s impulse twinkled like a star. Thank god he is in boxers.

No discarded condom packet was lying as you scanned the floor and the dustbin looked intact. But that still doesn’t mean you didn’t do it. Your chest heaved at the thought of waking him up. You extended your hand and then retreated, then again extended it near his cheeks and instantly curled it in your lap.

“Woah! That was hard to watch”, Izana was so loud or maybe it was the booze that still fazed your senses. He majestically stomped into the room and smiled as he exclaimed, “This is my favorite part”

“Wake up Mikey.”, he grabbed his arms to jerk him a bit. He groaned and curled against your thighs. You never looked so lost before. What exactly you could do when your crush is still asleep beside you while his step-brother wakes him up?

“Shin called me ten times”

“T-E-N times ?!”, Mikey sprung up on the bed.

“He falls for it, every damn time”, Izana quipped looking at you before leaving his brother in absolute horror. Mikey jumped out of the bed and as he turned around he noticed you sitting like a good girl at his display. He swallowed hard noticing the bite marks near your inner thighs and neckline. “Just gimme two minutes, I’ll drop you home”

“No. Thank you”, and that surely woke him up if a lie like that didn’t. He sat near the edge of the bed. “I know girls like you”, he mumbled tapping your nose. He is not even sorry that he tosses girls so easily. You peered through your eyelashes, he continued, “Who thinks it’s a mistake, who thinks it’s bad to do something like this, who thinks they are bad to enjoy their life before marriage.” Your heart flipped inside your ribs as those very lips that spouted such sweet talk dashed on to your lips.

Yes, he knew everything. He knew how easily you would give in, how you were so stubborn to avoid him because this is what scared you the most; to be just another girl to him. If he remembered you as Emma's friend that wouldn’t be a bother but you lost the chance yesterday when you kissed him back.

You pushed him away saying, “I’ve to go” and didn’t pay any heed to his pout. You dressed in the bathroom and before leaving you remarked, “Good luck with that” pointing towards his boner. You smiled as he quickly covered himself.

Manjiro enjoyed this as much as you regretted it, for him, he had won this. He couldn’t care less about you, your silly crush on Ken-chin, or that you’re Emma's dearest friend. He had won the bet.

A new semester began. Naomi and Mitsuya were no doubt in utter shock at such vivid progress. You just had to go through another semester, then you don’t have to see him anymore and he would never know how much your heart ached for him. But things weren’t that easy. While you tried your best to avoid him, he used to pop now and then. He even stopped seeing other girls and the most shocking part is you didn’t even ask for it.

Most of the girls envied you and talked behind your back which made you feel awful since you didn’t ask any of these. You barely kept in touch with him. Sometimes, he would take you for a bike ride and talk about his dreams, and his friends but he neither asked about Ken nor Emma.

He was certainly curious about Naomi but you were lost in him. Those moments however seemed unpromising meant the world to you. Why? Because you had fallen in love with him. You no longer loath him with every beat of your heart. You now desired to let him burn your wings so that you could never leave him, even if your sane voice told you to.

The semester ended way too early or so as it seemed. And like a tradition, most of the familiar faces gathered at Izana’s penthouse. Baji mentioned that he saw Mikey on the balcony with Izana but when you reached there it was empty.

“Looking for Mikey I guess”, a boy with strangely symmetric scars at the edge of his lips asked you as you entered the lift. He followed. You searched his face trying to place if Mikey ever mentioned him in his talks. “Haruchiyo?”, you muttered gaining a wide grin from him. When you looked at him a little too long, he wore his mask. You wanted to apologize but the moment the door of the elevator opened, you stopped as you saw the blonde boy. He was sure with Izana; that was correct but Baji got the wrong floor.

“So, you’re gonna ditch her? Just like that?”, Izana asked.

“ I mean. We’re not together. We are not even official or anything like that. I’ll just walk when I’ll feel like it”, Manjiro puffed out a ring from his drag, as he continued, “I wouldn’t have bothered to do this if Haruchiyo didn’t point it out … that how close she was with Draken. I mean I would ruin everyone who would break my sister’s heart.”

“Still, she needs to know Mikey. It's better that way. She is different ya’know, she is …” Izana absent-mindedly glanced in the direction of the elevator.

There you were standing with blank eyes with Haruchiyo by your side who had no idea that his silly comment would turn into an obsession and eventually end with such an awful heartbreak. Izana was staring at you with parted lips.

“yep. She is different.”, Manjiro added following Izana's trail of vision. You snapped into reality and immediately took the stairs as your eyes met his. That was your last eye contact with him before you walked out of his life.

“Fuck Haruchiyo, move !”

“Mikey? You get most of the girls here and you pull this shit? When you talked about her to me over the phone I thought you changed. You didn't...”

“Fuck, fuck fuck…just move”, Manjiro pushed Haruchiyo aside and ran as fast as he could.

“y/n you're gonna hurt yourself. You're gonna fall off the stairs.”, Manjiro shouted as he ran through the stairs pushing through the crowd. When he reached near the pool area he saw you in a yellow dress running towards the main road.

“y/n STOP. Listen to me. ”, he panted as he saw you pause. “I can explain.”

“Manjiro Sano. I don't want your explanation. You're free now. So, stop following me.”, with that you slowly walked towards the mouth of the main road to catch a bus without looking back. For the first time Manjiro knew how heartbreak sounded. It sounded as if a wounded creature wailed all night till it was dead.

“For the first time in my life, I've seen you interested in a girl.” Manjiro shot his hazy gaze upwards.

“Ken-chin!”

“told you she was too good for you.”

“fuck you.”, Manjiro hissed as he took Draken’s hand to stand up. She indeed is different.

The next day was normal and the day after was too. You didn't speak of him to Naomi. Even, Mitsuya’s visits became less frequent. There were quite a lot of spectators so it's quite normal for people to know about it. Mikey's girls were smiling again but not for long. It was a week.

It was a week everything was like this. Slowly, people started to talk, blame you for Mikey's cold behavior, and hold you responsible if Mikey was absent. Naomi couldn't defend you anymore.

Rumors and lies spread like wildfires. Some even said that he left you because you cheated on him with Haruchiyo. It broke his heart when he saw you in the elevator with Haruchiyo. You pretended not to care while he did the same.

Haruchiyo was easy to find. He was a transfer student at your university. He always wore a mask most probably because he didn't want to catch anyone's eye but you saw him without his mask, that day, more like he let you. Why would he do that?

“Y/n what's wrong with you?”, a shrill high pitched voice gained your attention enough to make you look at the face of the person. You’ve been avoiding people’s faces lately.

Emma. You knew this day would come. You've prepared for this day. You exhaled deeply before she started to cuss at you but all you heard were words of apology.

“Why didn't you tell me? I could have talked to him. I could have talked to Shin— she was on the verge of crying because she held herself responsible when she heard every ounce of truth from Izana. Izana sure is all beauty and brains.

“Emma. Relax. Breath.”, you cupped her hands. “I knew it from the very beginning. I knew it all along. Just pretend that I was one of his easy fucks. that's it”

“is that what you tell yourself?”, Draken quipped. You wondered how long he had been standing near the door but he sure looked concerned, not sure for whom exactly — was it you, Mikey, or Emma?

“No. Because we never fucked each other ”,

“Rrrrr-right!”, he nodded and stared at you.

“We just like had … make-out sessions and bike rides...”, you trailed off when Emma and Draken both were shocked at your words. They couldn't believe it. “Why are you two looking as if I'm lying? Did Mikey already brag about how he fucked me or did he already tell that I was clean so that others could have me...after all I was Mikey's girl ?”

“This is serious.”, Emma remarked.

“Indeed.”, Draken nodded three times. “Mikey doesn't take anyone for a ride, for all the girls he has fucked and he is ...

“what Draken is trying to say is that he is himself with you.”, Emma picked up his cue, and before she could tell you to mend the broken ties you let out a snort.

“Emma. I'll talk to you later. I've classes today”, another lie along with a few thousand others. You checked your watch and quickly walked towards the exit. You headed towards the music class since it was empty at this time.

You were sitting near the window facing it at the music class when you spotted Haruchiyo playing baseball. You watched him through the window as he hit the ball flying across the field. He seemed happy. maybe he still isn't aware of the rumors.

“y/n, do you have class here?”,

“Yes. no. I'm sorry. I'll leave.” when you turned around you noticed a blonde guy and a familiar dragon tattoo peaked through his collar. Manjiro Sano. of course needed a change. He couldn't even look at you.

“We didn't have a proper chance to talk...I’ I’m sorry for all of these. I didn't realize it back then...

his words seem to fade. he seems to become hazy. You felt a burning sensation near your temple before you almost lost balance. you grabbed the handle of the chair but alas! the ball hit you hard enough to make you faint.

When your heavy eyelids opened, you noticed Emma sitting near your feet. Draken's bag was near the bottom of the door. The beeping sound slowly helped you regain your senses. You turned your head only to find Manjiro sleeping as he held your hand. His cheeks were pressed against the back of your hand. You didn't feel his warmth. The sedatives and painkillers were to blame.

You tried to move your hand a little as you tried to remember the last thing before you fainted. You remembered how Manjiro’s voice slurred as he held you in his arms, as you tried your utmost to say I love you too.

You closed your eyes thinking he might just act out of pity. After all, if you hadn't seen him at the infirmary, if he hadn't acted on such an impulse thought, if you didn't know Draken he wouldn't even give a fuck about you, maybe he still doesn't but the way he was grasping onto your palms screamed how desperately he wanted you to stay in with him, only him. You drifted to sleep again.

Damn ! the pills and baseball players. damn Haruchiyo. damn it. fuck everything...

It was night when you woke up in your vivid senses. Your parched throat ached for a drop of wetness. You manage to stand but with that slipper, you were bound to fall and it would surely knock you out forever with such weakness in your body.

The corridors were silent, devoid of bright lights. Your room was engulfed in darkness except for the light perforating through the glass windows. “You never learn do you?”

If it wasn't for the fall, you'd have died out of a heart attack. Who on earth does that?

“I’m thirsty.”

Draken switched on the lights. He texted someone. Probably his dearest friend, Mikey. Before leaving the room he handed you a bottle. You cursed how weak your body was since you were unable to open the cap. Fuck you Draken. You tried a few more rounds and then gave up.

“Here”, a small bottle finely opened with a straw dipped in it. “It’s chilled. Just like you prefer”, you knew that voice, those rough hands, long fingers with a firm grip. You couldn’t seem to get the name properly.

“Izana?”

“Uh…no”, he cleared his throat, “You don’t remember me? It’s Manjiro. Your Manjiro” You tried to gain your composure but finally gave in to his adorable ways, his long eyelashes that reeked of loneliness and surrender; his pink lips that slightly parted and trembled at the possibility of losing you. You had no idea you could wield such power, power to see him vulnerable, to see the Manjiro Sano on his knees. You started to drink the cold mineral water using the straw. Sitting on the bed, having him standing near your knee you left him bobbing like a broken boat with the greatest trail of confusions.

What if the concussion was too much? What if she seriously doesn't remember me? What if she thinks of Izana as me and me as Izana? Oh my god fuck! That’s even worse.

You noticed his grip stiffened and clenched the bed sheets. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m fine Manjiro”, you uttered giving him an apologetic look. His eyebrows knitted close. And so you kissed him clearing all his doubts, soaking all his waves of anger and disappointments, absorbing every bit of loneliness from his frail body.

“You shouldn’t have done that”, he remarked as you pulled away from the kiss. His hands were underneath your thighs while yours curled around his slim nape.

“Mikey. Control”, and both of you flew away from each other. Mikey even bashed the back of his head against the wall. He glared at Izana but a bigger stature appeared. It was Shinichiro.

“A word Mikey”, Shinichiro scanned you with suspicious eyes.

As both the Sanos were talking outside, well Mikey was on the explaining end that included lots of hand movements while Shinichiro listened keeping his hands folded in his chest. There was no doubt that they were discussing you since at every other minute Shinichiro looked at you with surprise in his. At each glance, the surprise kept swelling until Manjiro turned him around to make him face his back to you.

“Remember that rumor, that I changed myself for a girl?”, Izana gave you a lollipop because the way Shinichiro shook his head declared that it’s gonna take a little while.

“Yeah…”, you supplied as you took the lollipop.

“Well, it wasn't. It was him”, he popped out his lollipop and smiled looking at you. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“He is so handsome”, and Izana almost choked on his breath since he knew Mikey’s pout would last weeks long because of this. Both the Sanos left in a hurry after Shinichiro got a call. But Mikey came back to say. “Izana watch her. Just watch her”, no one would suspect Izana of being a tease the way he nodded his head like a good boy.

“Do you know why he got that dragon tattoo similar to Draken and Mitsuya?”, Izana asked but he rolled his eyes noticing your curious globes.

“He felt lonely. He was happy for Emma and Draken, for Mitsuya too. No doubt about that but he missed them. He couldn’t exactly roam around the campus like he used to” he looked at you pulling out the candy into his mouth and discarding the stick into the bin. “And then he met you. You whom he thought had a crush on his friend, Draken. So, trust me when I say that handsome brother of his might do the same what Manjiro has done with you.”

“I know I got lucky but that doesn’t change the fact that he is an asshole”

“A valid fact”, he shook his head. He took a few steps towards the exit. “Try to think”, he slipped before leaving you in all sorts of confusion.

When you were discharged from the hospital, it was Izana who came to take you. He brought his car.

“Your mom drained your father in alimony”, you remarked looking at his black Lamborghini. He simply smiled. It smelt of pride and confidence. The car ride was mostly silent but your mind was not. It was a pool of questions, questions like where is he taking you? Why did he come? Why Manjiro didn’t come? Is he angry? Or is he sick?

“I think you’re taking the wrong route”

“Ha-ha. No no. y/n. Mikey couldn’t come. He was nervous since he kinda blames himself for your accident. Plus, the doctor asked you to remain under watch. So, Mikey thought it would be better to take you to my house” Izana noticed your denial as you frowned. “Mikey told me you wouldn’t like the idea” and that softened your expressions.

“Your house? House as in your penthouse?”

“House as in my house”, he corrected. A staff got all your bags while Izana guided you up to your room.

“Wait here! Mikey will be here shortly” and with that Izana left the room.

You pulled the curtains and gasped at the view. The whole city was drenched in rain and the glass became foggy. You wrote, “I love you Manjiro Sano”, and felt childish about it.

“Can I come in?”, you immediately pulled the curtains back and turned around.

“Mikey. It’s you”

“You never call me Mikey,”, his eyebrows grew closer but this time there was a curve at the edge of those pink lips. “What did you do?”, he was wearing a black suit and his boots clicked against the wooden floor as he approached you.

“Stop right there.”, you exhaled “Tell me something, are you planning to take me somewhere and then marry me and then keep me somewhere away from everyone-

Manjiro walked towards you even with your disapproval. You closed your eyes, the curtains clenched in your fist hold as his body grazed yours while his hands swiftly made you release the hold on the curtains.

“I might!”, he whispered as he drew the curtains. “I think I’ve to if you keep doing things like these”

You grinned at him as his eyes bored into you without blinking. Your smile sublimed and a low gasp evaporated through your lips as he pulled you against him, his hands stilling around your waistline. Your nose crooked as he brought his face closer to yours.

"That day if I would have looked you in the eye and said those things, perhaps you wouldn't be so hurt..."

"That day if you looked me in the eye, I would have fled out of your sight", there was a smile on his face, a smile that wouldn't wither away. He took your hands in his and kissed your palms as he continued, "I'm...I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I was such an asshole. All I cared about was winning, winning at everything and anything until I lost myself. I think I love you"

"You still think...?"

"Hey, At least I'm trying...", he muttered softly while your eyes darted to the view outside.

"I think I love you too", you murmured as he wrapped his arms around your belly pulling you close to his body. You were now facing the view again as his lips started to work its wonder.

“I remember how you told me that you’d win every match if I take you to arcade games”, his hands slipped under your dress. “You were so drunk that you barely let me do anything; I wasn’t drunk drunk but I’m glad it was your pussy that I tasted while going down on someone”

“Oh my god! Please stop talking right now.”, you palmed your face in embarrassment but he wasn’t going to stop, not anytime soon.

“And, when you talked about Draken and Emma, about how happy they were, about how lonely you were, I felt that too. It was so hard to hold myself back”, Manjiro sat at the edge of the bed having you in between his legs, his hands still clamped around your thin torso.

“Don’t tell me we did it while I was drunk”, you uttered in dismal.

“No, we didn’t.”, he chuckled as he swung sideways. “You almost cried saying that you’re strong, that a one-night stand doesn’t define you, and that you’re gonna prove Nao wrong”, that it is just a dried leaf of autumnal fall.

“So, try to trust me when I do this…

“Do wh-at …ah aH”, your hands flew back on his thighs. With a firm grip, you gasped as one of his hands massaged your boob while the other rubbed your feminity. You were squirming in his hold but that didn’t faze him. “Man-Ji-ro”, you moaned and it was responded with a harsh bite against your pulse point. He brought his slick wet fingers near his lips. You watched him lick it clean as his other hand rested over your tummy.

Your palm dived into his soft strands of yours as you kissed him instantly. You could feel his smile through the kiss. His hands gave a squeeze on your waist muscles. Manjiro felt you relax as he pulled the elastic of your panty and then released it. It made you flinch and immediately pull away from the kiss.

That was his chance, the only chance to turn the tables around. Within a blink of an eye, you were underneath him. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous”, he murmured staring at you. You noticed the gleam in his eyes that roamed all over your body and stilled over your excited nipples. You got rid of the red dress that Emma brought you before the day you were discharged.

This is the first time he has seen you naked. You were far more angelic than what he had imagined. Manjiro latched his lips around your pebbled nipple as he interlaced his fingers with yours. You squealed as he sucked too hard before biting your flesh.

“Mikey”, and he rolled along your side. It was Shinichiro's voice. Thank god the door was closed.

He cupped your cheeks and rubbed his thumb over your flushed cheeks.

“MIKEY”,

“Yea! Coming”, he responded. He checked his watch. “Gimme fifteen minutes” and before you could ask him not to stall his brother further he positioned his mouth near your clit. He pushed aside the cloth and gave a broad lick.

A smirk laced his lips because it would take less than fifteen to make you cum. It turned him on as he smelt your arousal.

“Fu-ck! Don’t stop”

“As you wish babe”, his mouth kept altering between broad licks and strong sucks. He paused as he felt you struggle for breath, wraith under his touch till you came.

“May I know where you’re going?”, you asked as he stood motionless staring at your naked body that was glistening in sweat.

“Get dressed !”, he pointed towards your bag. “And stay close to me. Don’t go around jumping all over the place”

You frowned thinking how much of a child he thought you would be. You couldn’t exactly blame him since all he knew about you was from Draken. Mikey had no idea about how a lover acts when they’re around the people they fancy; After all, you are his first love.

networks — @tokyometronetwork

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the-fluffy-folio · 11 months

Photo

Bevy of Boozles – Small swarm of Tiny oozes, unaligned

“Floats like a bubble – check, oozy to the touch – check, kicks like the nastiest brew of Falbheim’s shadiest tavern – check! I shall name you: Boozle!“

At first, Candle-Care’s new assistant blamed the intoxicating substance evaporating from a bursting boozle for the professor’s latest "stroke of genius". Quickly, however, he learned that this is just his way of doing things. After all, vamster, moss walker or gooze weren’t just – so the professor insisted – incredibly unimaginative puns.

🔮 If you like my work, kindly consider to support me on Patreon to gain access to monster pages, tokens & artwork of 200+ of quirky creatures, items and potions.

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elliemarchetti · 5 months

Text

Enchanted to Meet You

Hello @corcracrow, your Secret Santa here! I know I haven't filled you with questions as I would’ve liked, and you probably have the feeling of not knowing me that well, but unfortunately real life has hit hard both on my creative process and my free time. Anyway, I don’t want to spoil the mood for I'm very happy to reveal myself and I hope you likethe first chapter of the fic I have prepared for this year’s @acotargiftexchange

Plot: The Archeron sisters are prominent members of the Upper East Side, as are the Vanserras. Elain is fresh out of a disappointing relationship, while Lucien is the neglected seventh child of a couple who haven’t loved each other for a long time. Will they be able, after a chance meeting at a Christmas party, to build something they could cherish or will gossips and meddling families stifle the budding interest they feel for each other?

Words: 2241

Elain looked around, a glass of champagne held firmly in her right hand. The celebrations were going well, Feyre was having fun, laughing at a joke delivered by her new boyfriend, while Nesta twirled on the dancefloor like a ballerina in a music box, barely noticing her partner. It was the second Christmas party they attended this year, but since their business was booming, she guessed it wouldn’t be the last. At least the host picked some quality wine, a competent catering and classy live music. All the participants belonged only to the best families of the Upper East Side although, and she suspected not by mere coincidence, the Nolans were missing from the guest list. Some had already begun to whisper ill-will about their absence, but since the event was being held on one of Rhysand’s properties, Elain had the privilege to screen out those who were no longer welcome in her vicinity. She was aware she shouldn’t have been so naïve, a marriage proposal so hasty and at such a young age could only come from the heart when net worths like theirs weren’t at stake, but since she still struggled to figure out what to do with her feelings about it, she thought it wiser to let those social climbers stay in the dark place they called home.

Graysen had defined the architecture of his house as designer modern brutalism, but Elain, for the short time she had spent within its walls, had thought it nothing more than a luxurious prison. There were few windows, practically no natural sunlight, it didn’t have a balcony, a veranda, or even a garden, and although the underground swimming pool and spa had done their duty when she needed to relax, everything, including the obsessive order kept in the rooms by a bevy of maids she had never met, appeared fake. Like the love of its heir, after all, like the glittering gifts of his mother. There was no sentiment in everything they did, and since nothing was more distant from the teachings of her father, Elain had decreed that what happened before it was too late was for the best. Not that she would’ve completely ruled out the idea of a divorce if she found out after she married him that Graysen had joined their families only for financial benefit, but it was a nuisance she preferred to avoid, just like the fast-approaching gossips.

Luckily, someone was ready to save her, or so it seemed from the twinkle in the russet eye she met.

She knew Lucien Vanserra only by name, but his story was almost legendary and the reason most rich parents won’t let their kids go to public schools anymore, even if they were renowned and the courses were the best in the US: coveted heartthrob while still in college, a young professor not in her right mind developed a crush on his socially anxious best friend. When he’d rightly rejected her, she had decided to disfigure him with a kitchen knife. Lucien had been quick to push his mate away from the blade, but had been hit in turn, losing his eye and, despite countless surgeries, finding half his face permanently disfigured by a deep white scar, in stark contrast with his amber skin.

“I wanted to wait for some mutual acquaintance to do the honors, but given the situation it seemed like an appropriate time to come and introduce myself,” he said by a way of greeting, extending a manicured hand. The sleeve of his green jacket ran up a little, showing off a probably priceless watch, matched with the eccentric gold prosthetic with which he had replaced the missing eye.

“We’ve really lost our manners these days,” Elain joked, offering him a firm shake. It was her mother who told her, before she died all those years ago, that a weak hand was a sign of a weaker character, and after the misunderstanding with the Nolans, she was determined to convey confidence in every detail of her being. That was why she had chosen the dress she was wearing, with a neckline not too exaggerated but not even as chaste as she would’ve once preferred, the skirt narrower on the hips, where previously would’ve been tulle and wide pleats.

“Who do you think is the rudest?” Lucien asked, scanning the people by the bar. Being caught red handed, those who had distracted themselves from their conversations to glance curiously in their direction suddenly turned back to their interlocutors, making Elain smile bitterly. She could already imagine what they would say about them at the next brunch they were going to attend, she could already hear them referring to Lucien as the Beast to Elain’s Beauty regardless of the fact he was extremely charming, his disability just a means to spout malice.

“After careful consideration, I think Keir wins the prize,” Elain admitted, glaring at a blond-haired man who was displaying his voluptuous daughter like a beast at the farmers market to a group of older guests. The young woman seemed incredibly uncomfortable but didn’t leave her father’s side until a scary guy, all cradled in black, asked her to dance.

“He has been trying for nearly a year to convince my father that she and my brother would be a good match, but I think Eris’s interest lies elsewhere,” Lucien replied, nodding at Nesta’s current dance partner. His hair was a little more orange than Lucien’s, way shorter but still long enough to be tied at his nape, and although his skin was lighter, the resemblance was uncanny despite the age difference.

“She’s a though nut to crack,” Elain warned him, wondering if at least this bachelor would last a few months with her. The previous suitor didn’t get to the end of the third, retreating in his chase because of her cold and detached attitude.

“Who knows, they might have found each other, then,” Lucien muttered, drawing a surprised laugh from Elain. She was happy not to be an only child, but sometimes being three sisters and with such different characters was a real challenge. She couldn’t imagine how Lucien managed to get along with everyone in his large family, although, being the seventh, it probably meant nobody paid him much attention.

“Are you as difficult as him?” she asked, once the silence stretched for a little too long. She was enjoying their conversation, the ease with which Lucien opened up, as if he wasn’t used to be associated with the same high-class circles as the rest of the presents. His quick remarks had the same taste as notes passed under the desk during boring lessons, thrilling and personal, even if they talked about nothing of substance, and his presence was grounding, capable of freeing her mind from unpleasant thoughts and calming her anxiety.

"If I want to, but fortunately it’s not something I have often to retort to,” he replied, before downing the glass of liquor in his right hand in a single sip. “And are you the gentles of the bunch as is rumored?”

Elain thought about it for a second. Regardless of how she wanted to behave, her nature wasn’t as wild and showy as Feyre’s or as relentless and demanding as Nesta’s: her qualities lay in diplomacy and understanding of her surroundings, she liked to observe more than act, and make thoughtful decisions to prevent mistakes. She was reserved, always composed, and knew how to keep her opinions to herself, but that didn’t make her any less dangerous, just easier to underestimate.

“I suppose so, or maybe I’m just really good at my job,” she replied, finishing the champagne herself and depositing the flute on an empty tray.

“Which, if I’m not mistaken, is sadly required,” he murmured in her ear, sending a shiver down her naked back. Elain followed his line of vision, and saw her father suspiciously pale and unsure on his legs.

Her eyes involuntarily rolled back in her skull. It was always the same damn story: he was the CEO of a multi-million-dollar company, not a small-town carpenter unfamiliar with open bars, therefore he should’ve known better than to get wasted before midnight, but punctual like a Swiss clock, he proved to be unable to complete even such a simple task. Elain didn’t expect him to suddenly stop drinking, despite all the help his daughters offered and the professionals they were handsomely paying, but she felt like it wasn’t too much to ask for him to not make a fool of himself at public events.

“I could show you where the backdoor is,” suggested her interlocutor, offering his arm with a wink of his good eye. “That’s where I usually sneak out from anyway.”

Convincing her father to move away from the corner of the room where he had retreated, probably in vain search of the poorly positioned bathroom, wasn’t as simple as it may sound, but once they succeeded, Lucien helped her to keep him upright, to make as few guests as possible notice his state.

“After you,” he told her with a polite smile, when they finally reached their destination, before opening the plastic door and bowing to let her pass like the humble usher of one of the luxurious hotels where he too surely used to stay when he did something his parents wouldn’t have approved of.

As soon as she stepped out, the acrid smell of New York immediately flooded her nostrils, and she was sure that if it hadn’t rained so heavily a couple of fat rats would’ve welcomed them back into the real world too.

“My usual luck,” Elain muttered, trying to keep from shivering in the cold. Her jacket had remained in the wardrobe, as to attract as little attention as possible, but the taxi Lucien had kindly called was at least a couple minutes away, so she could only hope that the thin fabric of her dress didn’t show off her nipples hardened by the winter air.

“My mother told me cream goes great with green,” Lucien whispered, and before Elain could ask him what the hell he was talking about, she felt the weight of his blazer settle on her shoulders.

“Thank you,” she murmured, meeting his gaze perhaps for the first time since they’d taken shelter under the tiny plastic canopy. He wasn’t pitying her, he wasn’t amused nor even annoyed, he simply seemed used to helping strangers in need and vaguely sorry that their time together had come to a premature end.

“No need to thank me Cinderella,” he replied, very tenderly, the corners of his mouth slightly raised. “But now we have to load your father into the carriage.”

The taxi had indeed arrived at the only exit of the dead-end street, as close as possible to its future passengers. The pouring rain didn’t take long to soak her hair, and Lucien’s white shirt stuck to his arms, the muscles tense from the effort. The cold seemed to have brought her father a little back to his senses, but his tremors, mixed with an innate lack of coordination exacerbated by the alcohol, weren’t helping.

“Your jacket…” Elain started, once she was seated, but the owner shut her with a shrug.

“See it as a reason to look for me if you ever want to see me again,” he replied, and with that, he closed the door, gesturing for the driver to start moving.

“Where am I taking you, miss?” asked the man, who was already taking the road furthest from the entrance of the venue to avoid the paparazzi camped nearby despite the adverse weather, when he realized she wasn’t going to give him directions soon, the girl too focused on the encounter she just had. Blushing for the embarrassment, and with her mind focused mainly on the heat emanating from Lucien, whose shadow remained on her in the form of his velvet jacket, she absentmindedly provided him her address.

In a moment of clarity, Elain forced herself not to be delusional. Such a handsome and charming guy was certainly already taken, or at least he had a roster of sexy lovers. But then why be so nice? Why help with her father? She was still up wandering the kitchen and asking herself questions she couldn’t know the answers to when Nesta returned home, fortunately alone.

“Judging by your state no redhead was lucky tonight,” she tried to joke, but Nesta’s expression was deadly grave and she plopped down on one of the chaises longues in the living room dimly lit by the fireplace.

“Do you think we should send him back to rehab?” Elain asked, sitting down on the expensive rug the subject of their conversation had bought on his last trip to the Middle East.

“I say give him a second chance, but only one,” she replied, her gaze following the dancing flames.

“You should’ve stayed at the party,” Elain scolded her, resting her head on her thigh, left bare by the deep slit of her dress. “The situation is under control.”

“I can’t have fun when I know you’re shouldering his addiction alone,” Nesta replied, stroking her still damp hair, destroying definitively the elaborate hairstyle. Elain didn’t say anything else, but for some reason, as Nesta recounted her version of the evening, her eyes kept slipping to the door in hope a certain gentleman would ring the doorbell just to say goodnight.

#acotar gift exchange #elucien #modern au #enchanted by taylor swift is the main inspo behind this #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #nesta archeron #neris if you squint #but they danced in canon too so if it's not your cup of tea you can ignore it #if it is tho let me know and i'll put together a little spin off in the blink of an eye

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nyaagolor · 9 months

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(Ask for SV asks and I who also vibrated alone for months will answer-)

Do you think Nemona or Arven attended school when the bullying was really bad? Do you think either of them were targeted?

I’m personally impartial to Nemona having been picked on but in enough of a backhanded compliment way that she didn’t quite realize they were deliberately trying to be mean to her kind of way

SOLIDARITY

So i'll be honest I am not entirely positive what the timeline is for SV (which I promise is relevant). It's smth I really should try and figure out but I keep getting distracted so forgive me while I guess here. We know Arven barely comes to school after Mabosstiff is hurt, and iirc that happens a year before the protagonist moves to Paldea (someone says smth about Arven having a rough year so I'm taking that literally). Team Star forms + Penny is sent to Galar a year and a half before the protagonist moves in, so I can only assume that both Nemona and Arven were at least somewhat regularly attending classes while the bullies were there. We know Nemona is a straight A student and shows up to class regularly, with nothing to indicate this is new / she didn't attend class before, and Arven not attending class bc of Mabosstiff is mentioned to be a recent change in his behavior. TLDR I think they both attended the school when the bullying was happening and went to class regularly

THAT BEING SAID i think both of them had some school issues. I don't explicitly think Arven got made fun of per say, but I do think the expectations put on him by teachers or peers and the general reality of Being The Professor's Kid gave him a whole bevy of issues. Also I don't think he's very booksmart. Bad combo overall. Generally his prickly personality and complicated relationship with his parents and legacy lead me to believe he's a bit of a loner and mostly kept to himself. Couple that with bad grades and you have a recipe for the kid never picked for the group projects who isn't in any clubs and who eats lunch outside by himself. I think people might whisper things behind his back, but I also don't think he was really targeted because people were afraid of his parents and also he's just a naturally intimidating kinda person (mix of his stature, status, and RBF). Because of this, I also think Arven didn't really know much about the bullying. Imo he was pretty isolated from school culture as a whole, so he never really caught wind of any of the bullying that happened or anything with Team Star. In his lane, (not) thriving and (not) flourishing

Nemona, on the other hand. Hooooo boy. Penny, who was bullied enough to start a gang, calls the current school "sunshine and rainbows" but we see in the postgame that people are still uncomfortable with and isolating Nemona. She's being avoided and talks about being dismissed but we can see people are at least trying to be nice currently-- I don't think the previous school environment would be quite that considerate. Much like what happens in the postgame, I think people's true feelings don't register with her. With someone as enthusiastic, friendly, and socially oblivious as she is I find it hard to believe she wasn't bullied by the same people who harassed Team Star. I hate to say it but she's someone that strikes me as ridiculously easy to mess with and far too nice to ever retaliate, which is basically like bully catnip. People definitely sent her "invitations to battle" they would never show up to just to see how long she would wait there or assuage her with backhanded compliments just to laugh at her not understanding she was being made fun of. And if I'm being completely honest? I still don't think Nemona ever realized what it all was. I genuinely do not think Nemona realizes the extent to which people avoid her currently and I don't think she recognizes she had been bullied. It's not that she's stupid I just think the combination of her being so genuinely friendly and socially oblivious means it all goes over her head. On the bright side it means she's way better adjusted than the rest of them

#headcanons #mod vex #ask #nemona #arven

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0x4468c7a6a728 · 10 days

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Now that you officially Know Stuff About Computers (🎉), what subject in computer science did you have the most fun with while getting your degree?

i really liked the assembly and systems stuff! those classes were super interesting and i had great professors for them who really got me to love the subject, honorable mentions to automata theory, computer graphics, and functional programming (which now that i think about it i had the same professor for all of those)

the one I had the least fun was the game development class I took where for some reason the professor decided to force us to use Bevy instead of like, Godot or Unity or something, I was one of 2 people in the 7 person group who had ever used rust before, that class was miserable (i do not recommend rust for game dev in general, much less with people who've never touched it before)

#ask #my favorites may not be surprising given my blog

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gatheringbones · 2 years

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[“When my daughter received her diagnosis, my unspeakable fear was that this would just connect me to a long, depressing history of female caregivers. Self-effacing, with no identity besides caring for their child, these women were then hated by their other children—and sometimes by the cared-for child themselves.

I had struggled my entire life to redefine gender roles. To live a life free of the heteronormative and sexist expectations that define and limit women. That relegate women to supporting, care-giving roles while the men get to be independent, swashbuckling achievers. To be carefree. I chose to have only one child, late in life, in order to minimize the impact of care on my independent, feminist life. And I chose a gender-nonconforming female partner who would be an equal caregiver, ensuring that despite my being the birth mother, we would share the minimal burdens of our needs-free child. Like Washington, I naively thought that I could individually solve the systemic problems of care by having an egalitarian marriage—queer gender-nonconforming edition. All that was missing in this needs-free fantasy was the diamond poop.

I had no models, no lineages of caregiving that demonstrated the value of giving care to a disabled person in a nonsexist fashion. I had no lineages of caregiving at all.

“Behind every successful disabled kid is a bedraggled mother,” quipped one cishet “autism mom” friend. We met in the parent group I dutifully attended for the parents of kids with disabilities when my daughter was first diagnosed. “Parents,” it turned out, meant moms; my partner and I were the only couple to attend, and there was not a single dad in sight. Nor were there any single-parent families represented. Most of us were middle to upper-middle class, and three-fourths were white, with the rest being mostly Asian and South Asian, despite living in a county where 15 percent of the population are African American and 12 percent are Latinx.

We certainly were a bedraggled lot. Sacrifice seemed to be the theme. Accepting your child’s limitations. Submerging yourself to your child’s “special” needs. A kind of hyperfeminine Christian martyrdom was valorized. Oy veh! My queer, Jewish self wondered how she got here.

I wanted to escape: not from my daughter and her disability but from the system that seemed intent on denying the reality and ubiquity of ableism, instead sequestering disabled lives away in a privatized system of racist, sexist care. I found enormous value in the unique experience of caring for my daughter—and in forcing the system, from my position of extreme privilege as a white, tenured professor of English at an elite university, to adapt to my caretaking needs rather than deprofessionalize me.

My Asian American partner and I balked at entering the racist care system where BIPOC women were delegated the hardest, supposedly low-skilled, lowest-paid care work while a bevy of white female professionals handled the speech, occupational, and other high-skilled therapies. We were able instead to share the care work in an ungendered way, due to the flexibility of our white-collar jobs and our shared socialization as women. But we struggled to find a way to engage paid care-work systems that didn’t feel like a perpetuation of racism intersecting with sexism. We still struggle to find parent groups that don’t perpetuate sexism and heterosexism.

While our peers were baffled by our seeming embrace of lowly care work, and praised our DIY indie spirit and apparent adoption of maternal self-sacrifice, we didn’t recognize ourselves. Our own positionality felt unprecedented and unrecognizable. Where were we in this deeply racist, misogynist, and heterosexist story? Utterly cut off from our lineage as caregivers, which is as inherent a part of the story of disability as disabled people themselves.”]

jennifer natalya fink, from all our families: disability lineage and the future of kinship, 2022

#jennifer natalya fink #currently reading #lesbian literature

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professorathena-pokemonexpert · 10 months

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Paradoxes Caught Wild: Part #1 - Great Tusk

Professor... Sada, is it? I believe you're the one who requested that I send a comprehensive report of these "Paradox" Pokémon, correct? Well, it has taken me a while, so updates may be slow, but I do believe I've found some splendid information on the Pokémon known as Great Tusk if you're still interested.

8,000 years ago, in an unnamed desert

The region of what is now Paldea has recently started to recover its population from the recently-dissipated Ice Age and the prior cataclysm that resulted in the Great Crater of Paldea. During the aforementioned Ice Age, most species of Pokémon had not been able to withstand the crippling low temperatures. However, the previously scarce Ice-type Pokémon thrived in these harsh new climates. Pokémon like Vulpix and Darumaka even started to adjust to the subzero conditions.

Among the Pokémon whose populations started to skyrocket, one of them is most notable for this report: Mamoswine.

#0473 - Mamoswine

Mamoswine is a Pokémon symbolic of the Sinnoh region's chilling terrain. Previously, its hulking stature left it a prime target for hunters. While it could fend them off momentarily, the overwhelming pressure eventually caused the species to see a sudden decline, leaving them on the brink of extinction.

However, as a result of the constant blizzards that coated the region, Mamoswine, and its Swinub and Piloswine offspring, were able to stay concealed, almost as if the raging snow has been their cloak. They then had sudden increases in population, increases that the food chain wasn't remotely prepared for.

It got to a point where Pokémon who intentionally saw no interest in hunting Mamoswine down eventually saw it as the target food source, and started pursuing it for sustenance. Weavile, another Sinnoh-symbolic Ice-type who thrived in the cold, began to swarm around Mamoswine. While the populations seemed like they would decrease, they still ruled the Ice Age and would've definitely continued if the Ice Age has continued...

...but it didn't.

As we know, around 10,000 years ago, the Ice Age saw its end due to rising global temperatures. Alongside this came the immediate rise and fall of pretty much every population that was still roaming the globe. One of these declines was, of course, of Mamoswine.

Mamoswine lost its impeccable defense mechanism, and while the Weavile population started to dwindle down as well, Mamoswine still suffered the attacks of the closely-related Sneasler population.

While most of the Mamoswine, many of which spent millennia getting their numbers up, started to die off, some were able to survive the rapidly-growing heat with their fatty proportions.

As the heat started to increase, still did Mamoswine's tolerance for it. it. Although, as we all know, species cannot make such a drastic change without undergoing natural evolution.

Mamoswine had grown to be more reptilian, using the beating sun to bask in, honing its powers in a phenomenon we coin proto-synthesis. In addition, its tusks grew to fend off the more-voracious predators it would face in these rougher conditions.

Finally, it would have to adorn a slimmer appearance. With raging sandstorms poking out of every corner, slower Mamoswine would have to die off, as they couldn't outrun the top speeds some of these sandstorms would be able to hit.

Thus, after millennia of adjusting to intense heat and sandy, rugged terrain, we eventually got a brand-new Pokémon whose name has still been undetermined for some time now.

With every Paradox Pokémon comes a bevy of colloquialisms.

Donfang or Donphang seems to be the most popular among these.

For simplicity's sake, we decided to refer to it by the codename Great Tusk until we get more information.

#0984 - Great Tusk

Anyway, enough about that! Where was I? Oh, yes. Great Tusk's behavior!

Funnily enough, after Mamoswine had evolved, it was once again the king of its territory. Great Tusk roamed the sand-infested deserts with utter ease. The sands helped to hide it from predators, and due to its slender body, it was able to roll away before the sands could possibly dissipate.

Along with this, there were fewer predators that could stop it once it was caught. Both Sneasler and Weavile couldn't keep up with the blazing temperatures. In fact, this global event was akin to an inverse Ice Age, with few Pokémon that could properly adjust to the scorching temperatures, let alone the barren desert terrain, where few plants could thrive in.

If I had to pinpoint Great Tusk's most formidable threat, I might just have to say that Krookodile was the prime cause of Great Tusk slaughter.

Its steel-sharp fangs could sink into Great Tusk's scales without breaking a sweat. In addition, similar to Weavile, they'd hunt in packs. Usually, it'd be a horde of 5 or 6 Krookodile against a bold Great Tusk.

While not a predator per se, Hippowdon has also put up a tough fight against Great Tusk for control of territory. Both could abuse the desert sand to their advantage, and both were strong and bulky enough to have hour-long fits of combat before one of them (usually Great Tusk) was knocked out.

However, the populations of Great Tusk continued to rise, in which they were immortalized as the kings of the prehistoric sands.

Unfortunately, this is all I could find. Which one did you want next? Oh, yes! Scream Tail, correct? Perfect! I have a friend who can help me decipher this one!

Until next time, Sada. It's Athena. Ta ta!

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ephemeraldprofessor · 6 months

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Meet professor Amelia, Emmie!

Her name is Emmie, a new researcher who is dedicated her life to studying a large variety of pokemon with regional Sapphosian Formes. The older sister of the famous model Elesa, Emmie completely focused on her studies. She was fascinated on pokemon development and changes in biology based on evolution, transformation methods, and even regions! Most known for her pokemon podcast Emmie's Info, she has a a small following of pokenerds who love her insights into pokemon.

The new bevy of Sapphosian Forme research is being funded by the Pokemon Reseach Society(PRS for short.) with all she needs to gather info. Not only that, but her promise to give more info on her podcast centered around these new discoveries has gotten a few news outlets interested. This research obsessed woman is excited regardless of the fame, fulfilling a dream of discovering completely new things no one else has discovered!

Please feel free to send asks, memes, or really anything! Follows back from @linklewinklewoman

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autisticempathydaemon · 1 year

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in a sky full of stars (I think I see you)

Chapter One: Le hors-d'œuvre

tags: Lasko/OC, nb!empathy daemon OC who uses they/them pronouns, background Freelancer/Gavin, mentions of disordered eating and unhealthy relationship dynamics in later chapters

It's the classic story of boy meets girl... except "girl" is more of a genderless being of pure empathy magic and "boy" is the sweet air elemental professor who literally doesn't know they exist.

There is a curated playlist for this fic for your listening pleasure!

Also available to read on AO3 Next chapter ->

For the longest time, Bee’s absolute favorite thing on Elegy was its food.

Sure, as an empathy daemon, Bee loves and depends on the people, the things they feel. Happiness and light and positivity are Bee’s bread and butter, so to speak; they don’t need human food to live.

Joy just doesn’t linger on the tongue like the savory saltiness of aged cheese. Giddiness doesn’t pucker the mouth in sour glee like a Meyer lemon. Even contentment doesn’t warm the body quite like fresh hot chocolate. If Bee is sustained by meals of optimism and pride and kindness, they live for the gorgeous things mortals make as dessert.

Excitement followed by freshly-picked strawberries. Happiness and then lavender tea. Wonder with a chaser of vanilla milkshakes. It’s a pleasant way to spend an immortal life.

One remarkable day in an unremarkable eternity, this day, Bee learns there’s more to life than “pleasant.”

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

‘Iced, Lizzie- that drink is supposed to be iced,’ Bee says in a subliminal whisper. The redheaded barista stops and looks down at her hands. ‘Cold. You grabbed the wrong cup.’ With a blink and a little shake of the head, Lizzie puts down the ceramic mug and reaches for a glass.

‘Right, right, cold. Get your head in the game, she thinks violently, glaring down at the espresso machine as if it was at fault for her mistake. Hovering in the air next to her, Bee can sense that isn’t true, can taste her bitter, acrid headache like coffee beans roasted in a volcano. With faith, trust, pixie dust, and a smidgen of healing magic, Bee takes away her pain and savors the honeyed, mellow relief she radiates instead.

“One double shot Americano for Lasko!” she calls out, stepping aside to the pick up counter. “Sorry, that was supposed to be over ice, right?” Distracted by a service dog and its flavorless delight, Bee is all the more struck breathless when they get a taste of ambrosial, cotton candy contentment.

“Th- that’s right, thank you!” The raven-haired boy- man? Angel? Gift from Min’Ara?- says with a stutter and a smile that spreads across rosy, freckled cheeks. When he takes a sip of his drink, humming happily, his bliss drowns their senses in a flood of delicious, indescribable sensation. Bee thinks they taste cloying honey, fragrant pandan, rich chocolate, and heady liquor whipped together into a singular dish. It’s an overstimulating, overwhelming rush that has the empathy daemon figuratively and literally spinning.

Lasko’s emotions sated them like a god’s banquet, could keep them fed for a fortnight, and he hasn’t even moved. When the man heads back toward his table, that jolt of joy settled into muted comfort, Bee can’t help but follow, drifting towards him like he is the sun and they are the earth, like he’s the moon and they’re the obedient tides.

Sat down behind a laptop and a bevy of papers, dressed in scholarly browns and whites, Lasko Moore is unassuming, nondescript, and somehow wondrously, enchantingly beautiful. He’s a wallflower, and Bee has never felt more like their namesake- bewitched, blushing, bumbling- as they take their place in the seat across from him.

Author's Note: Please enjoy my first foray into a longer form, chaptered fic for RedactedAudio! Bee has been in the works for months (hence the url), and I just really wanted to give Lasko a partner goshdangit

Loving mention for @romirola who was lovely and sweet and darling enough to give Bee a cameo in her masterpiece, Packed with Love, which you should check out if you would like to see more of them or would like to read something magnificent~

#redactedasmr #redacted asmr #redactedaudio #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted #redacted fanfiction #redacted lasko #redacted oc #nb!OC #busybee writes

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septembriseur · 1 year

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I am watching THE most hilariously terrible movie from 2003 for research. James Spader plays What If Daniel Jackson But Cryptography, who is a professor at Berkeley despite never having finished his doctorate and engaging in skeevy relationships with his female students plus the bevy of Meg Ryan Is a Helicopter Pilot-style female scientists who are constantly throwing themselves at him. He gets called in to deal with a mystery alien artifact emitting a signal in Antarctica. One of the guys from The Terror is there and his whole 100% purpose in the film is just to rip Daniel Jackson a new one at every moment. Some terrible early CGI ensues and everyone looks at pink space goo and says, “I’ve never seen technology like it!” Also, there are nuclear Russians.

Technically it’s much worse than the slickly commercial The Tomorrow War, which has otherwise been my nadir, but so much more fun. Alien Hunter: playing now on an illegal streaming service near you!

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the-overanalyzer · 8 months

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Eternally Yours - Batman Eternal #1

Nowhere To Go But Up

I was re-reading my page-an-issue Countdown retrospective and remembering what a good time I had with that, so I started looking around for something else I could do with the format. I thought about doing a Brightest Day/Generation Lost double feature, but really wanted to actually reread JLI before I did that, and to be honest I've always kind of bounced off of the first chunk of Trinity, so instead I looked to one of the brighter spots in our collective nemesis that was The New 52.

Back in 2014, DC was celebrating Batman's 75th anniversary, and one of the events they put on was a weekly series, Batman Eternal. It was written by Scott Snyder, James Tynion IV, Ray Fawkes, Kyle Higgins, Tim Seeley, and John Layman, and illustrated by the standard weekly series' enormous rotating cast of artists. The story is hefty, with one overarching plot line, along with a bevy of side-plots that involved just about everyone in Gotham City who wasn't irretrievably tied up elsewhere (and there are some glaring, high-profile omissions on that list, as we'll see).

The whole thing starts with a bang, pretty literally, as fight with Professor Pyg leads to Commissioner Gordon seemingly causing a head-on collision between two subway trains full of commuters. Obviously, there's mischief afoot, but from who, and for what?

In this way, the story is structured a lot like Hush, with Batman & allies facing a series of trials masterminded by a mysterious, mostly hidden antagonist with enough insight to hit them where it hurts, and the resources to pull in most of the rogues gallery to join the fun.

#batman #batman eternal #eternally yours #batfam

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reasoningdaily · 8 months

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The Guardian: In our blood: how the US allowed toxic chemicals to seep into our lives

For decades, it was the secret behind the magic show of homemaking across the US. Applied to a pan, it could keep a fried egg from sticking to the surface.Soaked into a carpet, it could shrug off spills of red wine. Sprayed onto shoes and coats, it could keep the kids dry on a rainy day.

But the most clandestine maneuver of perfluorooctanoic acid, or PFOA, was much less endearing: seeping into the blood and organs of hundreds of millions of people who used products containing the chemical.

Most people who have heard of the chemical likely know about it because it was found to be toxic and removed from consumer goods in 2015 after decades of use, leading to modern boasts of “PFOA-free” on product packaging. In recent years, PFOA has also become the target of widespread regulatory action, news media attention and even a Hollywood movieas contaminated drinking water was discovered in hundreds of communities across the country.

While most concerns about the chemical’s health risks have centered on communities where research has linked PFOA to cancer and other serious illnesses, public health researchers say it serves as a klaxon of something more insidious.

PFOA is just one of dozens of modern-day chemicals that are found in the bodies of the majority of Americans, regardless of where they live. Research has also shown that more Americans are facing a growing number of ailments and disorders, from autoimmune disease to developmental disorders such as autism and some cancers. Scientists are increasingly concerned these two truths are linked, and some believe that the American public and lawmakers alike are dangerously unaware of the perils lurking in their veins.

“It’s very hard for people to understand exposure and effects when they can’t see a smoking gun,” said Linda Birnbaum, a former director of the National Institute for Environmental Health Sciences.

Sorting out the causes of troubling public health trends is extremely difficult. For example, how much is due to aging demographics, personal behaviors, diagnostic changes or environmental exposures? But in recent years, scientists have accumulated enough data to conclude with confidence that humans face significant health risks from exposure to common commercial chemicals,and that regulations designed to protect them are failing.

“I do think this area has been badly overridden by industry,” said Wendy Wagner, an attorney and professor at the University of Texas at Austin School of Law who has written about chemical contaminants. “People don’t realize that we actually encourage and even subsidize the production of tens of thousands of chemicals, while imposing essentially no requirements on manufacturers to test their safety. Nor do we ask whether we need the chemical, whether it’s useful, whether there are safer substitutes – or what it’s doing to the environment.”

When to declare a chemical safe or unsafe is critical. Experts say that due to flaws in federal regulation, the US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) is perennially playing catch up. The majority of the 86,000 consumer chemicals registered with the agency have never received vigorous toxicity testing.

The EPA doesn’t dispute that untested chemicals have been approved for use, but told the Examination that “far fewer” than 86,000 chemicals are still used today. The agency further stated that it believes it has made “significant progress” in addressing the risks of chemicals over the past four decades and in recent years has worked to draft a bevy of new rules and actions to address remaining high-priority risks.

“Where we identify unreasonable risks from a chemical, we must take action to address [them]”, the agency wrote in an email. “These proposed rules are great examples of protective actions that have prompted strong engagement from industry and environmental [non-profit] stakeholders, but we made them by following the law and the science to protect human health.”

The American Chemistry Council (ACC), a trade group for the chemical industry, also pushed back on the notion that commercial chemicals are under-tested or there was a lack of toxicology data, saying in a statement: “Chemicals in commerce are subject to stringent government oversight.”

But PFOA is an example of how a chemical can slip through the cracks and cause damage even when its dangers are eventually identified.

A phaseout of that chemical in consumer products began in the early 2000s and concluded in 2015, but it remains in the bodies of more than nine in 10 Americans today, its impacts still unfolding.

Tracey Woodruff, director of the University of California San Francisco program on reproductive health and environment, said the dangers of PFOA exposure are real, if difficult to appreciate. A study she helped lead, published in 2014 in the journal Environmental Health Perspectives, calculated a relationship between decreased birth weight and PFOA.

“What we have learned is that even small amounts of these chemicals have an impact on fetal development, including increasing risk of infant death,” said Woodruff, who is on the advisory council of the Examination.

But the dangers of chemical exposure go far beyond PFOA.

Premature babies in intensive care units appear to have higher amounts of plastics chemicals called phthalates in their bodies, likely from exposure to breathing equipment, according to a 2020 paper authored by Chris Gennings, director of the division of biostatistics at the Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai in New York, and colleagues. Phthalate mixtures, the report noted, can impact “neurobehavioral development”, with other studies finding links to aggression, inattention and rule-breaking behavior in boys from prenatal exposure. Gennings adds that even healthy children face similar risks from plastics chemicals still commonly found in baby bottles.

And studies show even the most cautious parents may not be able to escape the sins of the past.

Over the last 10 years, new research in the field of epigenetics, which studies how behavior and environmental exposures can affect how genes work, has found increasing evidence that harm from chemical exposures may become inherited. The chemicals change how the body operates, passing the changes down through two or three generations, and maybe even more. While the effect is well established in animal studies, researchers are now going about the much more difficult task of studying people and sorting correlation from causation, according to Carrie Breton, an environmental epidemiologist at the University of Southern California who published a review of recent research on epigenetics in 2021.

But for Breton, the data linking some chemicals to toxic effects is already strong enough to warrant action, even if the exact mechanism – epigenetic or otherwise – is not yet fully understood.

“Should we understand how it’s happening? Can that help inform interventions? Yes,” Breton said. “But from a policy point of view … If we have evidence of that harm, we should be able to start regulating and doing something about it now.”

Why chemicals in consumer products aren’t better regulated

Sixty-one years ago, the marine biologist Rachel Carson wrote Silent Spring, a book often hailed as revolutionary for its compelling communication of the risks of pesticides and other substances. The book is credited with helping propel a popular movement that led to the creation of the US Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), as well as the federal Clean Water and Clean Air Acts, which have dramatically reduced environmental pollution over the past half-century.

But, experts say, health threats from commercial chemicals remain fundamentally the same. So what went wrong?

Sarah Vogel, senior vice-president for healthy communities at the non-profit Environmental Defense Fund, says US environmental standards have improved in some ways since the publication of Silent Spring, especially in the first few decades after the book was published. Urban waterways like Ohio’s Cuyahoga River aren’t catching on fire anymore. Neighborhoods are no longer being sprayed with dichlorodiphenyltrichloroethane (DDT),which has been linked to breast cancer, hypertension and obesity in the daughters of women exposed to the bug killer. Vogel’s organization and others successfully pushed for a widespread ban of the pesticide in the US in 1972.

Progress on chemicals in consumer products, however, has lagged behind, Vogel said.

“On the chemicals piece – chemicals that are going into everything from paints and carpeting, cars and planes and all the rest of it,” Vogel said. “Think of the complexities of plastics that we use now. There have been a lot of new chemicals we’ve produced.”

Ostensibly designed to enable the EPA to collect information on chemicals from the companies that created them and ban the ones found to be unacceptably toxic, experts say the law had major flaws from the start. Perhaps none loom larger than the law’s “grandfathering” of tens of thousands of chemicals already in the marketplace, removing most from scrutiny. Vogel says the law was further diminished by rollbacks and budget cuts.

“TSCA effectively became a dead letter law,” Vogel said, meaning its original intentions were gutted.

In one of the most significant moments in the law’s history, in the 1980s the EPA moved to ban asbestos, a well-known carcinogen. But a 1991 US court of appeals decision tossed out most of the ruling, weakening the power of TSCA, and the administration of President George HW Bush declined to appeal. Contrary to popular belief, asbestos remains legal for various uses today.

“That really kneecapped the EPA,” said Melanie Benesh, legislative attorney for the non-profit Environmental Working Group. “It made it much more difficult for them to do much for existing chemicals.”

In 2016, the US Congress passed the Lautenberg Act, which overhauled the 40-year-old Toxic Substances Control Act and gave the EPA new authority, leading to the creation of two separate programs at the agency to review old and new chemicals. The agency announced a plan last year to fully ban asbestos.

But policy specialists like Vogel are withholding judgment on the significance of the reform as the Biden administration makes its mark, introducing new regulations on PFOA and similar chemicals in drinking water and evoking TSCA to potentially regulate 10 more toxic substances, including those used in rubber, plastics and fuels.

Although the EPA told the Examination it agrees that TSCA “largely failed to serve its purpose” over its first four decades, it said the 2016 update allows the agency to “effectively protect human health and the environment” through a slew of new mandates and regulatory authorities.

“Despite facing a massive increase in responsibilities and statutory deadlines from the most significant piece of environmental legislation enacted in a generation, the [Trump] administration never asked for any additional resources to implement TSCA,” the agency said. “Still, we’ve taken the resources we have and managed to make significant progress.”

For its part, the American Chemistry Council says it has “consistently called attention to challenges with TSCA” and supports the law.

But others say the numbers tell the story. Kyla Bennett, a former EPA employee and current director of science policy at the non-profit Public Employees for Environmental Responsibility, told the Examination that at recent rates of review, it would takethousands of years to assess all 86,000 chemicals currently approved for use.

EPA staff interviewed by the Examination say the agency’s chemical programs remain understaffed, overwhelmed and burdened by still-ineffective regulations and a persistent culture that enables the chemical industry instead of counterbalancing it.

Martin Phillips, an EPA chemist, was reassigned from the agency’s new chemicals program in 2020 after filing a whistleblower complaint. In an interview, Phillips noted that the EPA is currently assessing risks associated with asbestos, phthalates and ethylene dibromide – a fuel additive considered highly toxic and likely carcinogenic – nearly 40 years after Bill Drayton, a former EPA assistant administrator, warned in a report that the agency was moving too slowly to regulate them. “The agency felt it had enough information back then to regulate the chemicals, but that regulation hasn’t happened in 39 years,” Phillips said.

Cancer isn’t the only health risk from modern chemicals

Cancer is perhaps the first ailment that comes to mind when most people imagine the risks of chemical exposure. And with good reason: the disease is the number two killer in the US and remains a persistent threat from many modern chemicals, say researchers.

But a focus on cancer can obscure other risks, including heart disease, which kills 90,000 more people annually.

Philip Landrigan, a world-renowned epidemiologist and director of Boston College’s global public health program and Global Observatory on Planetary Health, has been at the forefront of efforts to restrict toxic substances like lead and asbestos for decades. While asbestos is a potent carcinogen, lead impacts many parts of the body, including the brain and bones. Perhaps deadliest is its damage to the kidneys, which Landrigan says likely increases blood pressure and hypertension, raising the risk for heart disease and stroke.

“Cancer is a frightening disease,” Landrigan said. “But actually a larger number of pollution-related deaths are due to heart disease and stroke.”

Vogel says that over the past several decades, advancements in the understanding of the human genome, microbiome and other bodily systems have allowed researchers to begin developing a better picture of these types of non-cancer risks from exposure to even very small amounts of chemicals.

One of the most alarming varieties is “endocrine disruptors”, a moniker given to any substance that interferes with the body’s transmission of hormones – or even mimics them. This causes cascading effects in the body that may be difficult to predict or understand, impacting metabolism, energy levels, reproduction, development and mood. Scientists believe that many “forever chemicals”, including PFOA, operate this way by accumulating in the body and tinkering with its organs and systems.

Birnbaum, the formerdirector of the National Institute for Environmental Health Sciences,compares the effect to medicines such as birth control pills. Like medicines, commercial chemicals also alter the body’s processes.

Endocrine disruptors can compound the risks of exposure to other toxic substances. Landrigan points to bisphenol A, a plastics chemical American parents are perhaps most acquainted with because of the packaging of baby products marked “BPA-free.” Landrigan says research shows BPA, like lead, contributes to heart disease, likely by modifying cholesterol levels and increasing atherosclerosis.

But it is endocrine disruption during pregnancy and early childhood – what Landrigan calls “the first 1,000 days of life”– that most keeps researchers up at night.

“That’s when the organ systems in a child’s body are being formed,” Landrigan said. “The development of the brain, lungs, the immune system, the reproductive organs … It doesn’t take much to derail them.”

Studies show phthalates and polychlorinated biphenyls (PCBs), both endocrine disruptors, can cause brain injuries in children, showing up as reduced IQ later in life, says Landrigan.

The health effects of endocrine disruption can be impossible for an individual to link to chemical exposure because they’re hidden among a sea of other variables, such as parenting, education and chance.

For some, the chemical effect will pale in comparison to other factors. But for an unknown percentage, it will be just enough to harm or kill.

“And multiply that by millions of people,” Landrigan said.

Changing how chemicals are regulated

Chemicals are everywhere in modern society.

The phthalates that Gennings’ research shows enter the bodies of babies in neonatal units likely come from the breathing apparatus they could otherwise die without. A slew of PFAS chemicals are integral in the manufacturing of microchips.

But Gennings says if certain types of breathing apparatus expose babies to fewer phthalates, simple awareness and selection of the better equipment could drive down exposures.

“People need to know about the chemicals they are exposed to. How can you make an informed consumer decision without knowing how to balance risks and benefits?” Gennings said.

Wagner, the University of Texas at Austin School of Law professor, doesn’t trust industry to be forthcoming. In 2008 she co-authored a book titled Bending Science: How Special Interests Corrupt Public Health Research.

Wagner has laid out a series of steps she believes the EPA could take to better regulate chemicals. The proposal includes requiring chemical companies to do more robust toxicity research and provide easy-to-understand analysis of a chemical’s risks and benefits to the EPA and the public. That would allow the agency to focus instead on enforcement.

Many experts say the EPA should ban entire classes of chemicals and create new regulations that consider cumulative risks from chemicals known to target the same organs.

The EPA told the Examination that it’s already thinking along these lines. For example, the agency said that earlier this year it released a “proposed approach” to assess the cumulative risk of phthalate chemicals and is also working to break hundreds of PFAS chemicals into subclasses based on shared characteristics.

“The agency is focused on improving its ability to address multiple chemicals at once, thereby accelerating the effectiveness of regulations, enforcement actions, and the tools and technologies needed to remove PFAS from air, land and water,” the EPA said.

Landrigan, the 81-year-old Boston College epidemiologist, takes the long view. Over his decades-long career, he’s worked with scientists and lawmakers to slowly but surely diminish the seemingly intractable global health threats of lead and asbestos. He’s optimistic it can be done again.

“There’s that old parable: ‘When’s the best time to plant a shade tree?’” Landrigan said. “The answer is 20 years ago. But the second best time is now.”

#pfos #pfas #forever chemicals #PFAS Chemicals #EPA #pollution in our blood #In our blood: how the US allowed toxic chemicals to seep into our lives #toxic chemicals

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papermoonloveslucy · 1 year

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TOUR DE LUCY!

Lucy & Cycling

Pedal Power! When not motorized or on foot power, Lucy biked! Here’s a look at bikes, trikes, and other likes.

Ben Mankiewicz’s podcast relates that Lucille Ball, as a young Hollywood hopeful, biked to work.

Broadway Thru a Keyhole (1933) ~ A bevy of costumed chorines - including an uncredited Lucille Ball, Susan Fleming and Ann Sothern - wheel around a giant nightclub stage to the tune of “When You Were a Girl on a Scooter (And I Was the Boy on the Bike)”. This was Lucille Ball’s second film. It also featured Charles Lane and Walter Winchell.

Palm Springs Weekend (1942) ~ An RKO short in which newlyweds Lucy and Desi rent a tandem bike to tour Palm Canyon, stopping to take snapshots.

“The Lost Pilot” (1951) ~ Pepito the Clown (Pepito Perez) was a good friend of Desi Arnaz. In the long-unaired pilot episode for “I Love Lucy” Pepito rides the world’s smallest bicycle, a routine that was part of his stage act.

“The Audition” (1951) ~ When the unaired pilot’s script was recycled into the regular series, Pepito was replaced by Buffo the Clown (Pat Moran) who injures himself trying to do a handstand on the handlebars of a (full-sized) bicycle. Resting at the Ricardo’s apartment, he tries the stunt again and careens through the kitchen door. His replacement is Lucy as ‘The Professor’, although she doesn’t ride the bike!

“Lucy’s Show-Biz Swan Song” (1952) ~ When the episode was running short, Desi Arnaz invited Pepito to do some of his act from the unaired pilot, including the world’s smallest bicycle routine.

The tiny bike (one of two) is six inches wide by ten inches high, manufactured by Anderson, Melbourne, Australia, in 1928. It was at one time entered into Ripley’s Believe It or Not. Pepito was in Australia in 1928 for an extended vaudeville tour, and he must have ordered this bicycle at that time. It is now one of the artifacts in the Lucy-Desi Museum’s collection. A special case was been constructed to exhibit it.

“Lucy Fakes Illness” (1953) ~ To convince Ricky she is going through her second childhood, Lucy rides a tricycle through the living room!

“The Ricardo’s Change Apartments” (1953) ~ Lucy fills the apartment to the brim with toys and baby items to convince Ricky they need a bigger apartment. Among the explosion of tot props is a tricycle and a bicycle!

“Bon Voyage” (1956) ~ A bicycle is Lucy’s undoing when boarding the S.S. Constitution for Europe. Saying one last farewell to Little Ricky on the dock, her skirt gets caught in the chain of a messenger bike, delaying her timely boarding. She even tries to board with the bicycle!

“Lucy’s Bicycle Trip” (1956) ~ When leaving Italy for France, Lucy has her heart set on biking across the border, but meets some resistance from Ricky and the Mertzes.

LUCY: “You wouldn’t climb to the top of the Eiffel Tower. You wouldn’t ride the ski lift in Switzerland. You won’t swim in the Mediterranean and now you don’t want to bicycle along the Italian Riviera.”

The bicycles used in the episode were provided by Arnold Schwinn and Company in return for a screen credit.

“The I Love Lucy Christmas Show” (1956) ~ Little Ricky gets a new bike for Christmas!

“Lucy is a Kangaroo for a Day” (1962) ~ To buy her son a new bicycle for his birthday, Lucy takes a job at a law office - until things ‘unravel’. Her knit dress becomes entangled in the spokes of the bicycle and unravels, causing her to have to wear a kangaroo costume to complete the job.

A carefree Jerry (Jimmy Garrett) rides his new bicycle through the living room!

A receipt from a Hollywood bicycle shop for the purchase of a bicycle basket and bike rack. Dated December 22, 1962, it was signed by Lucy. It is not known if the items turned up on screen or in what show / episode.

“Together for Christmas” (1962) ~ Combining their family holiday traditions, Lucy holds her favorite ornament, a Santa on a three-wheeled bike. Viv’s expression betrays her feelings about the ornament.

“Bob Hope’s Leading Ladies” (1966) ~ In the special, Lucy makes her grand entrance riding a large tricycle with her chauffeur (Jerry Colonna) on the back.

“Lucy in London” (1966) ~ Lucy and singer / songwriter Anthony Newley tour London town on a tandem bicycle.

Yours, Mine and Ours (1968) ~ In the film, Helen (Lucille Ball) and Frank (Henry Fonda) are the parents of 19 kids! On Christmas morning, more than a couple of them get bicycles.

“Lucy Helps Craig Get a Drivers License” (1969) ~ Lucy tags along on Craig’s road test. Needless to say the back seat driver frustrates and angers the instructor (Jack Gilford). When he learns that her license has expired, he says that after he's through with her she'll be lucky to drive a tricycle in Griffith Park!

“Lucy and Wally Cox” (1970) ~ Wally and Lucy are security guards at a toy warehouse that is robbed at gunpoint. There is a tricycle on the shelf behind the robbers (Gil Perkins and X Brands).

“Lucy and Lawrence Welk” (1970) ~ Lucy sends her visiting friend Viv on the Universal Studios tour, where she is excited to have seen Doris Day’s bicycle! All this is reported by Viv and neither Day nor her bicycle appear on screen. In real life, Doris Day was an avid bike rider. She rode to the studio on many occasions and pedaled around Beverly Hills until the police finally told her they couldn’t guarantee her safety.

Mame (1974) ~ Auntie Mame (Lucy) and her nephew Patrick (Kirby Furlong) bike through central park in the film adaptation of the Broadway musical.

EXERCISE BIKES

“The Charm School” (1954) ~ At Phoebe Emerson’s salon, Lucy and Ethel work out on stationary bikes. If you don’t remember this moment, it is because it was cut before broadcast. The press photos, however, survive.

“Lucy and the Countess Lose Weight” (1965) ~ At a health farm managed by Mr. Mooney, Lucy and Rosie (Ann Sothern) pedal away the pounds!

“Happy Anniversary and Goodbye” (1974) ~ Norma and Fay (Nanette Fabray) keep fit for their husbands in Ball’s first post-series TV special. Arnold Schwarzenegger plays a masseur.

SONG CYCLE

“Lucy and the Generation Gap” (1969) ~ Includes the song “Daisy Bell” aka “Bicycle Built for Two” written in 1892 by British songwriter Harry Dacre.

The song is heard again in “Lucy’s Lucky Day” (1971).

You’ll look sweet Upon the seat Of a bicycle built for two!

CALL ME MR. BIKE

“Tennessee Ernie Hangs On” (1954) ~ featured Richard Reeves as Ernie’s old pal Lester Bike, host of “Milliken’s Chicken Mash Hour”. “Lucy Saves Milton Berle” (1964) ~ featured Milton Frome as Jerry Bike, Berle’s agent. The agent’s name is never spoken aloud, but is listed in the end credits.

A Lucille Ball impersonator takes a carefree trike ride at Disney Studios. [photo by Lori Mundy].

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tropes-and-tales-archives · 2 years

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Perfectly Imperfect, Chapter Three

Word Count: 3019

TW: Yearning.

AN: Part of a series. The series masterlist here.

If you had made things weird, Barba definitely would have sought a transfer out of Manhattan, career-plan be damned. He could become a judge through a different route, through a different borough. After you left, he sat for a long time and felt his stomach churn so much that he knew he was on the path to an ulcer.

He felt sick to his stomach as he made his way to his office on Monday morning, and when he saw you sitting in the waiting area in reception, he nearly threw up.

He waited for you to do something – maybe stammer or avoid his eyes or try to broach the subject of the kiss – but you only nodded and told him “good morning.” He greeted you in return, and the two of you chatted a moment before heading to the courthouse together.

Barba felt the tide of acid in his gut recede. Maybe everything would be fine. You acted like it never happened, and while he felt relief that his job would probably be fine, he had to admit that there was some disappointment too. He would have thought that you being repulsed by his kiss would be the worst thing, but he was wrong: the worst thing was you pretending it never happened at all.

*****

You were lucky that your coursework at Columbia was kicking your ass. It helped push the bizarre moment in Barba’s office to the back of your mind, where it could be successfully repressed over time.

You didn’t understand men at all. You grew up with three sisters. Your father traveled for work during the week, only coming home on the weekends long enough to throw the household off of its weekly routines before leaving again. You had a bevy of cousins – mostly girls – and the handful of boys in your life were more like extraterrestrials than fellow humans. You couldn’t figure out their inexplicable inner worlds.

You only went to two parties in high school. At one, a guy pinched your ass so hard that he left a bruise, and at the other, a football player pushed you against a wall and forced his tongue down your throat before you were able to scratch him and get away.

That was the sum total of your experience with men.

You supposed you were a bit ashamed of your virginity, even if you knew, logically, that you shouldn’t be. You knew it was a social construct rooted in gross patriarchal tradition. There were a lot of things you hadn’t done yet in your life: you hadn’t seen the Pacific ocean, you had never done any drug stronger than Tylenol, you’d never been to a foreign country. Having sex was just another thing you hadn’t done and frankly, you were more looking forward to visiting France someday instead of having some sweaty dude rub up against you and probably hurt you.

When Barba kissed you out of the blue, it was just the latest in a long list of bizarre shit men did. Afterwards, he turned ashen and claimed he didn’t mean to, whatever that meant, and then he refused to look you in the eye. It hadn’t been terrible, just unexpected.

You supposed if you were going to be surprised by someone kissing you, you could do worse than Barba. He was handsome, in a smirking, arrogant sort of way. And his hands had been gentle on your shoulders, not grabby. And his lips had been soft, and his sharp intake of breath as he pressed his mouth against yours made you feel…something.

As far as kisses went (with your limited history), it wasn’t half bad.

But if he hadn’t meant it, then what did it matter? You decided to just pretend it didn’t happen.

-----

The case against the Hudson professor came and went. He was found innocent of the more serious charges, guilty of the lesser, and you considered it the best victory you could get. Hudson’s discipline was better – he lost his tenure, his pension, and was banned from all Hudson functions for the rest of his life.

Work was getting better by very slow turns. Barba, probably feeling guilty, was a big part of the sea-change. In squad meetings, he always made sure that you had a chance to speak. When Liv or Cragan spoke over you, Barba spoke over them, asking for you to continue and give your insight. The first time it happened, you were so startled to see everyone turn and listen to you. You tipped a grateful nod to the ADA, and he responded with a slight smirk and his own nod.

*****

Barba tried to keep his distance from you, or as much as he could, considering he was your ADA. Munch retired and the squad was shifted around – Fin was paired with Rollins, Liv was paired with Amaro, and you were the odd one out. It seemed to suit you fine, especially once you started getting more complex cases on your own.

More complex cases, though, meant more time with Barba. He couldn’t punt the cases down to Callier or plead them out.

When he met with you, he sat at his desk with you across from him, the polished mahogany a barrier between you. He kept the texts to a minimum and didn’t bother trying to flirt, since it went so disastrously wrong before. You remained professional, as always, but sometimes you responded to his texts with an emoji. They were always completely random – a lobster, a robot, a bowl of rice. Maybe you were flirting back? Maybe it was your way of addressing the kiss without saying anything?

He thought about you constantly. He got a copy of your jacket and pored through it, saw your impressive credentials. He thought about all the times he was with you: you recapping “Twenty-Five Acts” in the squad room, you sitting beside him as you sifted through witness testimony late at night, you meeting him at the courthouse for arraignment. You in the split-second between kissing him and pushing him away.

He thought about the Sunday you were both called into the precinct – him in his yellow slicker, you in workout gear. He replayed how your eyes widened at glee at his outfit, how you doubled over in laughter and called him “the Gordon’s fisherman.” More than that, he thought about how you looked in compression knee socks and short running shorts, how you smelled like coconutty sunscreen when you walked past him to run the name “William Lewis” through some more databases.

If he thought about you in the privacy of his own home, when it was late at night and dark in his room, when his hand drifted downward on its own accord…well, no one needed to know about that.

*****

You were back at Forlini’s, settled into a booth in the back corner. Your textbook and study guide was spread out in front of you, and a tall glass of beer was sweating its condensation onto its coaster.

It was a Friday night so the place was busier than you’d like, but you knew if you tried to study at home, you’d be asleep on the couch within minutes, and you’d lose precious study time.

You always seemed to be running on fumes, but it was worse than usual. Liv had been kidnapped and traumatized by William Lewis, and she was out on administrative leave. You were paired with Amaro in the interim who was a great detective with a prickly demeanor to people he didn’t quite trust yet. People like you. You almost missed your days of being Liv’s partner and perpetually being left behind.

You read the same sentence in your textbook three times and had no idea what it said. You sighed and reached for your phone to search one of the legal terms when a shadow fell over you, and you looked up.

Barba.

“I didn’t realize that the sequel to “Twenty Five Acts” was out yet,” he joked. “But I don’t see ten different highlighters this time.”

“You’re funny,” you retorted. “If being a lawyer and a fisherman don’t work out, you could try being a comedian.” Barba smirked down at you, and you admitted that he looked good. His tie was loosened just a bit, and his suit coat was over his arm. “Want to sit?”

He waved you off. “I don’t want to interrupt.”

“You aren’t.” You sighed and closed your book, gathering your material in a pile and making room for him. “It’s a lost cause at this point. I don’t understand half of what I’m reading.”

Barba slid into the seat across from you and took the textbook from you, leafing through the pages. He let out a low whistle. “This is advanced legal theory. You planning on sitting for the bar?”

“God, no,” you laughed. You reached out and took a sip of your beer. “Me, a lawyer? I can barely grasp this stuff and it’s only two classes a semester.”

He closed your book and reached for your notes, getting to them a beat faster than you could pull them away. He read through them for a moment, and you squirmed in your seat, embarrassed. Barba was the best ADA you’d ever seen, and you were ashamed to have him reading over your ridiculous outlines for your thesis. You felt your face growing hot. He probably thought you were an idiot.

“You have a good instinct for the law,” he finally murmured as he flipped a page and continued reading. “Law school, the bar…anyone can do it, really. You can’t teach instinct though.” He looked up at you. “Your case files show it. This shows it too.” He rattled your notes at you.

“Really?”

“Really.” He placed your notes on the table and flagged down a waiter to order a scotch. “If you need help though, I’m happy to lend a hand.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” you replied as the waiter sat Barba’s scotch on the table. “Do you even get days off? What an awful way to spend your free time.”

Barba got a strange look on his face, and he took a sip of his drink before answering. “Quid pro quo.” He smirked before adding, “that’s Latin for ‘something for something.’”

“I know what it means, Ahab.” He chuckled at your nickname for him.

“A deal, then. I help you with your coursework, and you teach me how to use emojis.” You smiled at this, and he continued. “This detective at work keeps sending me texts that make absolutely no sense.”

*****

At first, he just looked over your papers for you. The first time he handed one back to you, marked up with a ton of red ink, you looked horrorstruck. Most of his notes, though, were just for other routes for you to pursue: settled case law, legal precedents. But you seemed to want to impress him.

Then you sent him the odd text over the weekend, asking for a quick translation on some of the trickier legal terms you were running across. If he could, he responded via text (and you thanked him by sending him the UFO emoji, for whatever reason). But eventually, he had to call you to explain and talk you through the terms. He always listened to the background noise on those calls. Sometimes there was a low roar of a bar crowd behind you, and sometimes he picked up Spanish dialogue from your TV. He liked to picture you in the comfort of your own home, curled up on your couch and talking to him.

He still saw you at work, obviously, but when his phone chimed at night or on the weekend, he always felt his stomach dip pleasantly when he saw it was you. He liked being a person you turned to when you needed help. You knew other ADAs – you seemed friendly with Callier – but you reached out to him.

It was the last week of November, and you stopped in his office. Barba was pleasantly surprised to see you, since you didn’t have a case in process at the moment, but you looked exhausted and drawn. You were carrying two cups of coffee with you, and you placed one on his desk in front of him.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I have my final next week,” you said.

“So? You know the material cold.” He did a quick calculation in his head of your grades on your midterm and papers. “You could probably get an F on the exam and still pass the class.”

You looked so aghast that he nearly laughed. “I need an A, Barba.”

“Do you, though? It’s a non-degree program…” He trailed off and a thought occurred to him. He’d seen your jacket before. “Have you ever gotten anything lower than an A before?”

“No!”

He did laugh at this – you were so vehement, it was like he asked you if you had murdered anyone before. “That makes a lot of sense, actually.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You don’t strike me as someone who’s ever half-assed anything.”

“That’s right,” you agreed. “I whole-ass everything.”

“The coffee’s a bribe, isn’t it?” he guessed. “You want help studying?”

You looked nervous, and you shifted back and forth on your feet. “I know you’re busy,” you said. “I’d never ask, but you’ve been such a life-saver through this whole class…” You went on for a good while, listing out all the reasons you needed help, but Barba barely heard it. He felt a warm, buzzy feeling. Him, your life-saver. Of course he’d help you. More time spent with you? It was a no-brainer.

The two of you spent a few lunch hours together and some time after work, late into the evening. On the days you were both too busy, Barba would text you questions and you’d respond with the answers. In return, you’d send him emojis with your completely subjective, oddball take on what they meant. The salient emoji that you always sent him – the UFO – apparently meant that he was “out of this world,” which made him grin like an idiot for days.

You ended up passing your class – not that Barba ever thought you wouldn’t. You burst into his office a week after your marathon study sessions and plunked a bottle of Macallan 12-year-old double cask scotch on his desk.

“That’s for all of your help,” you proclaimed, and Barba couldn’t help but smile at how sunny you looked. “I got an A minus.”

He pretended to be disappointed. “Which feeling is stronger?” he asked. “The joy of the A or the sting of the minus?”

“It’s fifty-fifty,” you replied. “But an A plus would have earned you the triple cask 15-year scotch, so everyone has a share in the regret here.”

*****

It was strange. You’d never been friends with a man before, but you’d almost consider Barba a friend at this point. You enjoyed his company, and you appreciated his help. You wanted his approval, and on the surface, you’d blame your pathological desire for everyone’s approval – but you wondered if there was more to it.

You liked being around him. He was easy on the eyes, certainly. He smelled good, certainly better than whatever astringent musk Amaro bathed in every morning before he came into work. And he had a way of tapping you on the back of your hand with his forefinger when he was driving home a particularly vital point in your studies. When he did, sparked an unfamiliar warmth in you, and it made it hard for you to look into his green eyes.

He helped you pass your class. He went to lunch with you sometimes, took you out for drinks after cases and commiserated with you about the difficulties of your respective work. It was almost like your gripe sessions with your girlfriends, only with an extremely good-looking man who made you feel a strange, pleasant anxiousness when he was around you.

You wanted to broach the subject with your girlfriends, and you were all out on a Saturday night. You were at a new club in the meat-packing district, and once you got inside, there was no hope of having a serious conversation with your friends. It was so loud that your teeth vibrated in their sockets; it was dark. The floor, despite it being a new club, was already sticky. The drinks were overpriced but strong, and you felt buzzed after a few cocktails.

Your friends drifted off to dance, and you were left to awkwardly stand by a pillar by the bar, tacitly avoiding eye contact with any of the drunken guys who staggered past you surrounded by fogs of boozy-breath and overpowering cologne. You thought about sending Barba another random emoji; the thought of him furrowing his brow and puzzling over its meaning like some old-timey Egyptologist made you grin.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The thought had no sooner crossed your mind when your phone vibrated in your hand, and when you looked down, you saw it was Barba. He had a few questions about an upcoming case that you were the lead on.

You offered to meet him at his office, but he told you that he was home. You offered to meet him there, and you watched him struggle to respond – the three dots appearing and disappearing on your phone’s screen before he finally replied with a simple “okay,” followed by his address.

It was an unexpected turn to the evening. Your Saturday evenings usually went one of two ways: curled up at home and plowing through research or class work or course work, or out with your girlfriends and griping about life. Here was a diverting third option – spending time with Barba, the man who was rapidly becoming one of your closest friends.

I’ll be right over, you responded, then you ducked out of the club and ordered a car.

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